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blake-belladonna-defence-force · 4 years ago

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It's the ✨annoying little shit✨ again

The Gremlin anon😺

Here is the ✨update✨ with what happend ✨yesterday night✨ and also ✨today morning✨

So, after I wrote my roommates conversation with Miss oh honey, I started reading it and

MY GOD!!! GIVE ME A BREAK FROM THE GAY!!!

I'M NOT USED TO THIS KIND OF CONSERN FROM SOMEONE!!! IT'S SO FUCKING ADORABLE!!!

I'M GONNA PASS OUT OF GAY OVERDOSE!!!

I wanna kiss my roommate so bad ;-;

BUT I'M TOO SHY FOR THAT!!!

But before I could panic even more, Miss oh honey gets in (I was in my roommates room because it's bigger than mine since we agreed to sleep together) and asks with big grin on her face "How ya doin?"

"Gay- Gay panic"

"Oh honey you need to make a move soon or roommates name won't handel it"

"What do you mean?"

"Honey you know that they are conserned about you and already doing that ugly sad kitten face"

"I don't think it's ugly"

"Of course you don't, you love roommates name! But now, take my advice and make a bloody move! I WANT PROGRESS IN MY SHIP"

Before I could say anything she got away and shortly after my roommate got back and didn't notice I was there

I was coverd in their blankets like a cotton ball with only my head slightly out, and for the face my roommate was doing they were in auto pilot mode

They literally started changing in front of me

And did I say anything? No cause PANIC

I COULDN'T STOP LOOKING!!!!

I TRIED TO OPEN MY MOUTH TO SPEAK BUT THERE WAS NO SOUND!!!! I COULDN'T AND I FELT LIKE A PERVERT FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO LOOK AWAY!!! I FELT SO BAD ABOUT MYSELF!!!

BUT THANKS TO JESUS AND HOLY MOTHER I GOT CONTROL OVER MY HANDS AND COVERD THE REST OF MY HEAD WITH BLANKETS BEFORE MY ROOMMATE TOOK OUT THEIR PANTS!!!

(I could only see their back since they were turned around BUT if they took their pants off... I don't want more panic and gay thoughts so I wont think about it)

As I evolved into a full white ball of blankets I felt a tap on the blankets. I got my head out and I saw my roommate only with a fucking top on, but with a really sofh expression that made me melt

IT WAS SO CUTE!!! I CAN'T HANDLE THIS!!!

But while I panicked they started laughing and saying that I looked like a cute tiny fluff ball

I never blushed so must for a laugh and a compliment, that laugh was music, I want more ;-;/

FUCKING KISS ME ALREADY!!!

But as I keep staring without being able to say anything they grafmdualy stoped laughing and started looking conserned/sad (sad kitty face here we go again) and then they look down and finally notice they are only with a top on and then they say "oh- sorry" and put a shirt on

BUT I'M NOT GONNA BE QUIET THIS TIME AND I WILL SAY SOMETHING

And what I said was "Nice"

Just that... WHY ON HELL DIDN'T I SAY SOMETHING ELSE!?!? WHY GOD??? WHYYYYY!!!!??

But before I died of embaressment they asked "Nice what?"

"You are nice- I mean- I just- You are nice to me! You always have been since the beggining and uuhh... I just- I don't want you to be sad or- or think you are a jerk just because I got embaressed in the kitchen and uuhh-"

"Wait, how do you know about me thinking that?"

"I- I could hear you two talking"

"shit"

And this when I finally notice how hard blushing!!! Were they that embaressed? But before I could jump into conclusions I rembered Miss oh honeys advice abd asked "Uh- glup Why are you so worried about me?"

Looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read and said "It's cause- sigh You've already been through so much... You deserve to at least be confortable in your own house, to have a safe place to yourself... Don't you think?"

I just- Give me second I need to CRY MY EYES OUT!!! WHY ARE TOU SO CUTE!?!? WHY!!!?? WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME!!!!???

*incoherent gay gremlin noises*

I didn't notice I was crying until my roommate, with a very conserned voice, asks "Are you ok!? Why are you crying!?"

I kept sobbing until the picked me up, with blankets and all, and hugged me tight

I NEVER FELT SO GAY WITH JUST A HUG!!! IT WAS SO SAFE AND WARM!!!

I MELTED!!! I'M NOW A GAY GREMLIN JELLY!!!

At a certant point they layed down with me and cuddled me. I felt so tiny but yet so loved, it was so good and safe ;w;

Is this what real actually good relationships feel like? Cause I love it ;w;

I'M GAYING SO MUCH OVER THIS!!!

And before we went to sleep, my roommate wiped my tears and said "Well, if it makes you feel better, I think you're hella strong"

"snif What do you mean?"

"I mean- I still about that time I saw you knocking out a guy, that was built like a greek god, twice your sise, in front of our door step!"

"Oh that- that was just-"

"Was just hella impressive!!! I ALMOST DROPED MY FOOD!!!"

THIS IDIOT MAKES ME CRY AND THEN LAUGH AND FEEL HELLA GAY ALL THE FUCKING TIME!!! don't GIVE ME A BREAK!!! I NEED TO REST!!! And that's actually what I said to them, but more like this

"Jesus Crist- Look, let's sleep already before I pass out" AND MANAGE TO SOUND FUCKING CASUAL ABOUT IT!!!

It was because I was really tired

BUT STILL COUNTS AS A VICTORY!!!

So, after I said that, my roommate nods in aproval and fucking kisses me in the forehead

WHAT'S WITH YOU AND MY FOREHEAD!!!??

Anyway, we fell asleep and this morning when I woke up, first thing I do is check tumbler, and when I get there I see shitlords ask about gremlin-fever and the gremlin in back of my head is like pspspsps do iittt

After I send that ask about giving permition for you to use my story as a fanfic I put my phone back in the table, roll over, and PROCEED TO HAVE A FUCKING HEAR ATTACK!!!

THAT DORK ON HAS SHORT AND A TOP COVERING THEM!!! IT'S FUCKING FREEZING OUTSIDE THE BED BUT THEY ARE BOILING!!! LITERAL VOLCANO TEMPERATURE!!!

I'm starting to think that shitlord anon was right about the fevor in a literal way...

BUT THIS IS NOT WHAT BOTHERS ME THE MOST!!!! THE FACT THAT I CAN FEEL EVERY INCH OF SKIN IN THEIR BODY!!!

But them I look down and see their arms around me AND FUCKING HELL HOW STRONG IS THIS BITCH!?!?!

I probably panicked for and hour or so before I realize... I CAN TOUCH IT

I now I'm the volcano!!! But when I start touching their belly OUT OF GAY CURIOSITY

THEY OPENED THEIR EYES AND ASK "What are you doing?"

WHAT DO I ANWSER TO THAT!!!??? I CANNOT JUST SAY I WAS TOUTCHING YOU OUT OF GAY PANIC

BUT IT'S NOT LIKE I HAVE A BETTER EXCUSE THAN THAT!!!

So, as an intellectual, I said "I- I was j-just c-curious to know how it f-feels to touch it"

"You were curious to know how it feels to touch other persons abs?"

"Well... Yeah b-but not- Not, like- I'm inocent I swear!!!"

They started laughing at me and got closer, and with their fucking casualty say "You can it I don't mind, you're inocent after all"

I WANNA DIG A HOLE AND HIDE!!! YE GODS ABOVE HELP ME!!!

But I remberem shitlords anon little tip, and actually got the courage to kiss their forehead. The moment I kiss tgeir forehead they stop laughing and blankly stare at me for a solid minute, BUT THIS TIME I'M GONNA BE THE ONE TEASING BITCH, so I said what shitlord anon said "I was just checking your temperature, you look like you might have a fever"

I MANAGED TO HAVE COURAGE TO SAY THAT WITHOUT SOUNDING LIKE A DYING SQUIRREL!!!!

IT'S REVENGE FOR MY ENDLESS PANICS!!!

They didn't even say anything anymore, they just nooded, IT WAS PRICELESS!!!

But then, Miss oh honey opens the door saying "GOOD MORNING LOVE BIR- Oh- Am I interupting something?"

We both just stare and since she cant se if we have clothes or not due to the blankets she does a shit-eating-grin and says "Oh- Sorry to interrupt your bonding time~ I will let you continue~ giggles"

I DIED RIGHT THERE!!!

But my roommate was FUCKING PISSED

They got out of bed and started chasing her, screaming her name in pure rage!!

And I stayed in the room... Looking at the ceiling... Thinking about my life choices...

BUT PLEASE CAN SOMEONE SEND HELP

I need it ;-;

IT'S TOO MUCH GAY PANICS!!!! HELP!!!

And also, Miss oh honey is gonna sleep here today, cause aparently one of her neighbors has covid, and his wife texted everyone that he is coming back from the hospital so he can rest home (cause the hospitals are all full and he is not having trouble with the desease), like, he got positive a month ago, and Miss oh honey went for test and got negative, she stayed at home for a while to make sure she was okay, and since her covid neighbor wasn't at home with is family cause ge stayed in the hospital (and none of is family has covid, fortunatly)

So, baisically shes gonna stay for while...

Hope ya'll have a nice day/afternoon/evening/night

- gay panic Gremlin anon

Holy shit— you go, Gremlin anon! I don’t think I’ve ever been this proud of a stranger before in my life 😂

Y’all are too cute and I’m dying. Good luck with your roommate and your wingwoman Miss “oh honey”, Gremlin anon xD

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himbo-beel · 5 years ago

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so there’s this thing my botany professor used to do when i was in college which was if you spotted you in the halls he’d do a quick breathing exercise with you before going on with the day. he’d leave his office door open and had both a coffee machine/water heater and his wife always made sure he came in with snacks on exams days and it’s honestly the reason i made it through those days and idk it’s been a long time since college but those moments have always stuck with me and it’s been real hard lately and i’m thinking about them again so

have simeon with a stressed out mc

_______

Your shoes scuffed down the hall, feet heavy and eyes heavier with the fog that floated above them, filling up the space between your ears with thoughts of sleep and darkness and quiet. You'd woken up early, your skin sweaty but cold from the dream that broke the stillness of the Devildom night and brought you back to your room. It was the same everywhere, you were realizing. No matter if it was the Human World, the Devildom, or, and you could only guess with the Celestial Realm that there was always more to do. Another test to take, another paper to write, another day to get through and then another and another and another.

The unending cycle was weighting on you, turning your legs to jelly and crushing your lungs and you were sure, eventually, even your heart couldn't continue to push against the pressure sitting atop your shoulders.

It was an effort to lift your head at the call of your name, a whisper barely heard through the many already spinning through your head. A flash of white robe over brown shoulders caught your eye and you forced your eyes to focus.

"Good morning, Simeon."

"Your's looks like it's a bit on rough on you." His smile was soft, reassuring, a kindness that light up his eyes in a way you weren't sure you were allowed to see. You ducked your head.

"Something like that." You expected him to move on - you both had classes to get to, but his shoes stayed right where they were, firmly planted in front of you. You risked another glance up and furrowed your brows. He hadn't moved, but he'd adjusted his arms, folding them loosely in front of him. The same smile was still on his face, and you looked everywhere but there, finally resting your gaze on his shoulders. They rose and fell in slow, exaggerated movement as he breathed, and you wondered what his wings would look like. Would they bob with his movements? You felt yourself inhale, deep, with him, matching the rise and fall of them, and gasped when his hand fell on your shoulder, fingers squeezing lightly.

"I'll see you around, yes? Don't work too hard." The parting wink he sent you had you pressing your lips together, and you ran a hand through your hair. What had been? Whatever it was, if left you more than confused than before but…

You breathed in deep again and didn't feel the weight pressing down on you as much.

___

You passed Simeon again in the halls the next day and a similar conversation followed suit. He greeted you warmly, you responded blankly but appropriately, and he waited, silent, smiling, until you matched your breaths with his. His hand went to your shoulder, lightly squeezing, before leaving with another reassuring word. For a week it became almost a routine for him to stop you, and though the weight never left, not completely, you looked forward to the brief respite he brought.

But today he brought something else.

His hands were too fully to cross in front of him as they usually did while he spoke with you, and he pressed one of the cups in his grasp into your hands. Warmth seeped into your fingers from the hot drink and with no prompting from him you breathed in deep of the scent of spiced tea. The fog cleared, just a bit further, just a bit longer, and you took a sip, closing your eyes as the taste of it rolled down your tongue and settled pleasantly in your chest.

"There's more if you'd like some." He laughed at your expression but you didn't feel all that embarrassed. You flushed under the warmth of his gaze, still, but there was no judgement to be had as he placed the hand you knew had been coming onto your shoulder again. "I just got an order of Celestial teas in. We can try them together."

A quiet night sounded nice. Putting the papers and books aside for a night sounded even nicer. You ended up at Simeon's door earlier than he'd invinted you, and you fidgted in the hall, heels rocking against the carpet until you heard the call of your name from inside.

"It's open," you heard him say, and sheepishly you entered his room. A small table was set in the middle of the room already adorned with tea cups and saucers and a plte of what had to be Luke's newest baking endeavors. A tray of assorted teas sat in the middle of it all and yours eyes widened at the selections.

"It's enough to rival even Satan's collection."

You watched Simeon purse his lips around a chuckle as he picked up the teapot and poured, adding the first of the samples to his cup. "Half of his teas come from the Celestial Realm, you know. Part of this order was for him."

Your eyes widened. "So you had even more than just these ones?"

He lifted a shoulder, defeated. "An angel can indulge too, you know."

You felt your face heat up and you accepted the cup from him. "It'll take all night to try these."

"Take as long as you need."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfiction #obey me shall we date fanfiction #obey me simeon #obey me mc #my writing

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 4 years ago

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Flowers

My lone submission for the Rayllum Valentine’s event. Warning: this fic contains mentions of post-partum depression. Canon-verse, but does involve Rayla still being ghosted

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Rayla growled in frustration as she threw the letter in the fire. “Ray-” Callum murmured from the side, holding their week-old daughter. Aisling was the most beautiful thing Rayla had ever seen, with her father’s green eyes and brown hair with ten fingers and ten toes. The most elven thing about her was the little horn stubs on the top of her head.

“Don’t, Callum. Please.”

“We’ll make them understand.”

“How?! You freed Runaan, Lain, Tiadrin, and many others from those coins. We saved Zym and reunited him with Zubeia. We defeated Aaravos and it’s STILL NOT ENOUGH. They will never unghost me and let me go back home.” Rayla felt the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and tried to hold them back, but they poured out. “And now I’m getting hormonal and just…UGH.”

She didn’t resist when she felt Callum come up behind her and wrap his arm around her waist. “I’m sorry, Ray. I don’t know why they are being so stubborn. You don’t deserve this, but no matter what, you have me and Aisling, and Ezran and Soren. You ARE home.”

“You don’t get it.”

Sighing, he moved away from her. “What don’t I get? Didn’t we agree that this is your home now? Didn’t we say that, no matter what, we are each other’s home?”

“And I stand by that. But you cannot possibly understand what I am going through. You still have your home. You haven’t been banished and you can come and go as you please. I need weeks of planning to not only go see my parents, but if I want to see my childhood homes, nobody can see me. My culture, my language, everything, is basically lost to me. You don’t get it.”

Callum was quiet for a while, perhaps minding their daughter. Rayla winced as she continued looking at the fire. Wrapping her arms around herself, she felt even more terrible. She didn’t feel like she had taken to being a parent nearly as well as Callum had. Maybe she wasn’t meant to be a parent. She loved Aisling with everything she had, had carried the halfling in her belly for nine and a half months and delivered the child for hours, but she was also crying more, angered quicker, and didn’t stop Callum from getting out of bed at night to tend to the baby. If anything, she hoped he would so she didn’t have to.

Callum finally came back to her and wrapped both his arms around her. “You’re right, Ray, I don’t get it. I cannot understand your pain and frustration. And now that we have a child, I’m sure your feelings have only grown stronger because you want to share all of those things with her. But I have to believe that we can make them welcome you back because I’ll hate them if I don’t. We’re trying to forge peace and hate doesn’t belong anywhere near that.”

“I haven’t even thought about how it would affect Aisling. Gods, I’m a terrible mother.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Yes, I am. I gave her a Xadian name and she can’t spend time in Moonshadow territory? She’s cut off from half of herself and I’m sitting here thinking about how it affects me.” Rayla felt the panic rising in her chest. “Callum, what if she hates me? All I do is fuck up with her. I’m not bonding with her like I should. She already adores you more and I’m just there.”

“Look at me. Please.” Slowly turning, Rayla raised her eyes to meet his, shocked at the tears in them. “You aren’t fucking up. You’re having a hard time, but that’s not that weird. You heard Sabah and Amaya. Most new mothers feel like this, and if it lasts longer, we’ll get you help. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad mother or something is wrong with you. What did the mid-wife say?”

“That birth is traumatic for some and it takes longer to heal the mind than the body.”

“What else?”

“That, because I don’t have a support system from my home and my culture, I’m more at risk.”

“I’m so sorry that this is happening and I wish I could fix it for you. I would fly into Silvergrove now and make them take you back if I thought it would work. But you are not screwing up with Aisling. She’s not cut off from half of herself because she has you. If you want to only speak to her in High Elven, I will support that. If you want to teach her to read it, I will find books every time we go to Xadia and ask Janai for some. I’ll order ingredients from Xadia so she can have Xadian food. I promise, I will do what I can to give you both a connection to your home because, even though we are each other’s home, you do still need a connection your culture. Aisling does, too.” Wrapping her arms around him tight, Rayla’s shoulders shook as she silently sobbed in his arms. Callum kissed the top of her head and held her close, rocking her side to side as he so easily did their baby.

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Rayla rolled her eyes as she stared at the curtains Callum had pulled over part of their bedroom. He said there were changes coming to the garden and it was a surprise so she wasn’t allowed to look. It had been several months since the Council’s latest rejection of her return to Silvergrove and she was slowly starting accept that she would always be rejected. All four of her parents had visited Aisling and had adored their grandchild, promising to visit as often as possible and give her a connection to her culture. Lain and Tiadrin were even considering permanently moving to Katolis so they could be more active in Rayla’s life and make up for lost time.

Stroking Aisling’s cheek with the back of her fingers, Rayla held her bairn close. Sabah had been a big help in the journey into motherhood, visiting often and letting Rayla freely voice her concerns and fears. Months ago, Rayla had feared the judgmental eyes of others for not being close enough to her child, but she was slowly learning that it really was different for everyone. Tiadrin had shyly admitted she had had a hard time post-partum with Rayla as well; lying in bed for days on end and Runaan and Ethari and Lain having to check in on her. She still felt like a failure some days, but her child was healthy and growing with a flush on her cheeks. “I love you, even if you do wake me and your father up. We need to get you sleeping through the night, wee one.”

A knock of the door interrupted her gentle scolding, causing her to look up. “Princess Rayla?”

“Aye?”

“Prince Callum requests you and Princess Aisling join him in the garden.”

“We’ll be there.” Standing up, she held Aisling close and left her bed chambers. The trip to the gardens was a short one, but Callum had covered all the windows so Rayla couldn’t accidently get a peak at what he was doing. “We’re finally going to see what your father has been up to. I’ll bet you five whole jelly tarts he built a pond just to practice ocean magic.”

“I would take that bet.” She turned to the side to see Callum waiting for her. “Ready to see the surprise?”

“I’ve been ready.” She turned to the glass doors leading to the garden and waited for Callum to open them. He smiled at her and turned the handles. As the doors opened, Rayla was hit with the smell of moonlilies. She hadn’t smelled that scent outside of soap in years and her eyes watered in nostalgia and happiness. Callum had planted a whole field of them as well as having built a gazebo. “How did you do this?”

“Well,” running a hand through his hair, he gave her a sheepish smile, “it certainly wasn’t easy. The Council is being so stubborn with unghosting you, but I managed to convince them with a letter a day to let me have enough moonlilies to do this. I told them that it was the least they could do for the mage who had decoined several of their citizens. I know it’s not the same thing, but, at least, you can now have a piece of home right here in Katolis. Let me show you the gazebo.”

He led them over, hand on the small of her back, and Rayla marveled at all the flowers before her. Moonlilies only bloomed at night, but their scent was still unmistakable. The gazebo was wrought iron and featured multiple Moonshadow knots and symbols. There were cushions and benches for sitting on. “I could spend all day here.”

“I’m glad.”

“Thank you. This is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I love you, Ray. This is our home, and, I hope, I made it feel a bit more like home for you.”

“You did. I love you, too.”

The three of them spent all day in the gardens, having lunch and dinner in the gazebo and later joined by Ezran and Soren. Sabah, Marcos, and their child joined them as well, Sabah’s heavily pregnant belly leading the way. Rayla and Sabah chatted in their mixed High Elvens while Callum made his attempts and the little one in their group hung on every word. It still hurt Rayla that she couldn’t go home freely, but she did feel a bit more at home now. Maybe one day, she would get to show Aisling and any other children she and Callum had Silvergrove and other Moonshadow territories. Until then, the gardens would do quite nicely.

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This fic is something of an ode to my mother who had post-partum depression and had no real support system (family more than a 1000 miles away) besides my father and an ode to my grandmother who had her last child in a country and a culture that were not her own and who regrets not teaching her children more about her language and culture or about my grandfather's (English was the common language between them, so that's what they spoke in the house). I tried to convey their thoughts and feelings to the best of my abilities and to bring in the realties of raising a child in a multicultural, international relationship.

#rayllumvalentines #rayllum #rayllum fanfic #moonbase fanfics

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honeylikewords · 4 years ago

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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!

#jack daniels #agent whiskey #kingsman #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #long post #original #BEHOLD. content.#and i named all the kids after relatives of the Original Jack Daniels (whiskey guy) and after Johnnie Walker (another whiskey company) >;3c

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cloveroctobers · 4 years ago

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Any Graham/MC friendship headcanons?

Carl/MC relationship headcanons if the other one is too difficult?x

Graham/MC friendship

Probably has him under “fishman ham 🎣” in their contacts — or at least I would lol

idk there wasn’t much interaction in the house since they weren’t each other’s type therefore there was little social to no scenes (which I think is kinda dumb because you can still be friends with someone if you don’t choose to go the romantic route yet he’s not that much of a fan fav so maybe that’s why? They also had a lot of characters so maybe that’s it too? Anyways) unless mc was going after marisol or considered a friend of hers? I’m not too sure on the still carrying feelings towards marisol if she’s with graham route so that’s based off pure assumption

If mc did start a friendship while he was with marisol and they still had feelings towards marisol then it wouldn’t happen until some months after the show or when/if marisol broke up with him (I made it canon that ultimately they do split but yeah)

so let’s say mc began a friendship while he’s dating marisol and mc has no romantic feelings towards marisol then?

They’d probably bond over some shit-talking cause I view graham as someone who can and WILL talk his shit

Mc and graham are on different time lengths majority of the time since graham is always up at the crack of ass out on his boat to snatch the catch of the day

He sends selfies on his boat—again at the crack of ass

“lemme know if you find aquaman! B safe uglie”

“i AM YOUR own personal gorgeous aquaman 😏 x”

“Don’t ever disrespect Jason momoa again in ur life !!!”

“U disrespect my wife Wunmi Mosaku”

“No I disrespect YOU. She doesn’t want u.”

“She wnted Jordan Patrick smith on tht show.”

“🥱🤫🖐🏽...I don’t blame her but only if he has the beard.”

“yew n ur got damn beards 😒”

Loves his seafood...I think that’s a given

“Can we eat something else, please!”

“...My Omama (grandmother) made her famous dressed crab.”

I decided against making hcs of graham before along with some others but ultimately thought he be of German background?

Not the greatest at speaking but understands the spoken language and ofc the curse words and insults are his favs + teaches mc some

I feel like he’s rough handed and has no issue bumping hips, elbowing, and putting mc into headlocks—basically treating his bestie like anyone of his bros really but he does that with anyone (including his omama, who laughs sending a punch with her knuckles against his forearm. It’s more of a gentle firm grip but they do this in greeting?)

Has no issue lugging mc around like some fish in a net?

like if there’s a severe rainstorm in his hometown of Devon and mc is the type to hate rain and they have a long way to get back to the car after hanging on the sandy beach all day, he’ll throw them over his shoulder like it’s nothing and stalk his way back up the cliffs to get back muttering “I’m getting real sick of Der mist!”

“Blah blah blah, you love me. Kiss my arse.”

“I could drop you on ya head, I’m sure that’s happened before.”

Then comes the hits, pinches, and jabs

Convinces mc to get random tattoos that he may or may not have doodled when they’re drunk off their asses

The next morning, “graham...what the f—

“Ah, now you look like me!” He ruffles mc’s hair from behind as they’re staring at their reflection in horror, “except I’d never get face tatts.” He whistles in slight disapproval

Mc might have to choke him and ask Gary to help dispose of the body in the ocean

Mc helps trim his beard instead since they almost cut off the entire patch left on top of his head “you look a bit like a beet or a mandrake from Harry Potter. Just cut the shit off or grow it all out, you’re embarrassing me.”

“Whatever happened to my body, my choice?”

“...that doesn’t apply to you. I’m your friend, I love you, and I’m trying to help you.”

“Oh, Piss off!”

Lots of middle fingers are used and hugs

Messy car, messy office, the only thing that’s neat is his hair/beard and his work ethic when it comes to the fish

He’s comes to mc when marisol dumps him and he’s hammered so that either = mad af or sad as hell sometimes it’s a little bit of both depending on how much he’s had

“Who do I have to fight? Or do you want to hug it out?”

“I kinda wanna slow dance to snow patrol.”

And you know it’s bad when graham openly wants to listen to snow patrol in the early afternoon instead of jelly roll or some shit

Hey, whatever the heartbroken fisherman wants he gets. That’s mc’s bud so they do what they can to make graham feel best...even if that means stepped on toes—He’s not the best dancer

I do get single dad vibes from him or at least uncle graham, he’s got a 3 year old son/nephew named Roy and he speaks so highly of the mother of his child/nephew who struggles with addiction but he’s on extremely good terms with her family

You adore Roy, who much like his daddy/uncle loves the water and sailboats

Mc will post captions about how thankful they are to have met graham due to some mess of a reality tv show whereas graham will post embarrassing pics that he secretly took of them and say things like “mc suxx a lot of the time 💘

“Text me when you get home bitch!” Type of friend too, cause if he can send you selfies so early in the day that he’s on the water at work then mc can txt him to let him know that they’re home after a night out, coming from work, etc...if they both are aware that the other was out

#litg #litg2 #litg s2 #litg headcanons #I barely wrote notes on him so my apologies to the fishman lol #he has potential to be great #litg graham #litg mc #litg marisol #litg Gary

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 5 years ago

Text

You Belong With Me

Sebastian’s stylist has been in love with him for two years, ever since she started working for him. When Mackie accidentally lets it slip to Sebastian, does he feel the same way or is she about to get her heart broken?

“Well, if it isn’t Madam President!” Anthony said as you entered the trailer. You rolled your eyes. He was full of nicknames, but this was a new one.

“Of what?” You asked, genuinely confused. You put your bag down, grabbing the new hairspray you were going to try on Sebastian that morning. You’d been his stylist for two years, and Sebastian had just now told you that he didn’t like how crunchy his hair was in certain scenes. It was just about the only thing he hadn’t shared with you. You were unusually close, and you knew that it was weird. But you weren’t going to do anything about it because you were literally just out of college and you had a feeling that Sebastian preferred women who could legally rent cars and not have to pay spring break fees at hotels.

“The Sebastian Stan fan club!” Anthony responded, like it was absolutely obvious. His stylist, Hannah, who was also one of your best friends, laughed as she started to put on a prosthetic gash on Anthony’s arm. He was working on a scene where he’d been absolutely clobbered, so he was expected to be there an hour before Sebastian. The most you had to do for Sebastian aside from the normal makeup was the same consistent bruising you’d been using most of the season. Special effects weren’t your specialty.

“They still have those? I guess you wouldn’t have one, though,” you shot back. Hannah giggled.

“Hey, hey, you’re on my side!” Anthony said to Hannah. “At least I’m not in love with him.” You sighed as you started setting up the station, finding the jelly Sebastian used to put his fake arm on. The last thing you needed was for Mackie to make any more jokes about lube. A text from Sebastian lit your phone up – On the way! With your coffee!!! They had oat milk this morning! YAY!

“I’m not in love with him,” you sighed. You were lying and everyone knew it, you included. “There’s this thing that you might not be familiar with called a friendship.”

“Yeah, I got lots of those and I don’t cry over ‘em.” You shrugged. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t cried over it. But you cried over everything. You were a crybaby. Even Sebastian knew that. You’d cried the first time he’d gone out of his way to bring you coffee.

“You cried over your wife’s text yesterday,” Hannah reminded him.

“Woman, work on my arm!” Anthony demanded. She shrugged and started opening a gallon of fake blood. He dropped the conversation, at least for a few minutes, to tell a story about one of his kids. You knew that he was just joking about even telling Sebastian. He had your back. But you were determined not to let anything slip, even accidentally. Because you needed this job, and you didn’t want to have to suffer through it before quitting the best paying and most fulfilling job you ever thought you could have. And, besides, you were going to Japan on the press tour with Sebastian and you really didn’t want to give that up.

“I brought coffee!” Sebastian said a few minutes later as the trailer door opened up. Indeed, he was holding your iced coffee with oat milk and vanilla syrup in one hand and his own in the other.

“You’re a life-saver,” you said as you took it from him.

“It’s the least I can do for someone who lubes up my arm every day,” he winked. Your heart skipped a beat. A jolt of electricity went through you and forced a smile onto your face. Then you realized.

“That’s not the only thing she lubes up, I’m sure,” Mackie joked. You shot a look to him and Sebastian saw it. Sebastian just giggled like the idiot he was, and plopped down in the makeup chair.

“You’re just jealous,” Sebastian said, “if you asked me for an iced coffee with oat milk and four pumps of vanilla syrup, dude, I would’ve brought you one.”

“Alright, I got the new hairspray,” you interrupted, just wanting the subject to be dropped.

“Can we wash my hair first?” Sebastian asked. You rolled your eyes. He said your small hands were the best at washing his hair, and you saw that he had indeed skipped washing it that morning. It was dry and greasy, and you needed it to be slightly wet.

“Get over there and turn the water on,” you sighed. “And open the email I sent you, I need you to let me know which of those jackets you like for the press tour.” In addition to his makeup artist, he’d hired you on as his stylist. It was a lot of extra work, but he paid you just as much as Disney did. Another reason why you didn’t want things to be weird – you didn’t want to wrestle with his tie and avoid looking up at him at the same time. You’d much rather just have him laugh at you and watch his cheeks crinkle up.

“Thanks!” Sebastian called as he walked over to the hair washing station at the end of the small trailer.

“You know, he’s been asking if I want to set him up with someone…” Anthony started quietly as you reached for a comb.

“If you even mention my name and ruin my entire life, Mackie, I swear to God I will…”

“Hey, now. He likes you too. Trust me.” You groaned and turned around, rolling up the sleeves of your sweater to start on Sebastian’s hair.

“You know, Mackie, you look like the kind of guy people can trust. But it’s been two years and I can only count a handful of times when you haven’t been lying to me.” He shrugged.

“Fine to me if you want to keep being a bachelorette your whole life.”

“I’m 21.”

“And he’s not getting any younger.” You scoffed and turned back to help Sebastian. If he heard anything, he didn’t say anything. He just let out a sigh when you started washing his hair.

“I’m not talking about this, Anthony!” You said loudly. “Sit down so I can fix it!” You were referring to a bruise he’d gotten on set when someone had playfully punched him with a set of fake brass knuckles only to realize they were real. Hannah was taking a long break to go to the doctor, so you were it. Sebastian was supposed to be on set, but he was outside the trailer. He stopped when he heard your voice. He’d never really heard you snap at anyone before.

“Fine, fine, fine. I’m just trying to help you, kid. I think you could be endgame, I really do. If you would both just stop being your stubborn selves…”

“Anthony!” You warned. Sebastian’s eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but if it wasn’t about him he didn’t know what else. Endgame?

“I am just saying.”

“I’m 21. I barely even have a job, I pick out clothes for him…”

“You’re a glorified babysitter and you’re fantastic at your job. Anyone who can’t see that is, well, not here.”

“Still. It’s so cliché, dating an assistant, and…” Hannah emerged from the car she’d just parked beside the trailer, seeing Sebastian.

“Are you eavesdropping?” She asked with narrow eyes.

“No,” Sebastian answered. It was surely a lie. Hannah passed him and swung the door open, revealing you.

“Oh, thank God,” you said as you saw her. But when you looked past her, your heart dropped in your chest. Sebastian was there. And you were sure he’d heard the entire thing. You sighed, though. You wanted to go home and cry, but you sucked it up and got Sebastian ready for his next scene. You and Hannah were in the trailer for another two hours, patiently waiting in case you got called to fix hair or makeup. You didn’t, though, and finally they were back. Anthony gave you a mischievous smile, one that was completely unapologetic. Did he ever not play around?

“Hannah, can you come back with me for a minute? Costumes asked for your input on some of the replacement suits.”

“Coming!” Hannah walked out as Sebastian walked in. Over the time that you helped him get un-ready, you noticed the things that Anthony had been pointing out. You were more careful with his skin than you were your own, making sure he didn’t break out from the makeup. You were way more careful to hide his eyes with your hand when you used product on his hair. You were too gentle with the brush. And this time he seemed to notice it, too, and the air in the room shifted as you watched him grab his backpack and start changing back into the sweats he’d been in that morning. Even without real clothes on, he was still gorgeous. He still looked like a million dollars. He looked soft. You wanted to run forward and grab him, but you didn’t. You just started to put your own sweatshirt on.

“You know, Anthony was telling me earlier,” Sebastian started. He shut off the air conditioning unit you kept in the window for your asthma. You looked over at him and took in the sudden silence in the room, eyeing your lanyard of car keys beside his. Usually, he’d walk you back to your car because it was dark out. No matter the security of the studio – he always wanted you to feel safe.

“What?” You asked, trying not to make anything obvious.

“He was making it sound, I don’t know, like… Like you, uh, like me or something.” Sebastian was causal about it, but you could see his hands were shaking and you could see something in his eyes. Your own started to look like a deer in the headlights.

“Um,” you started to respond.

“I mean, if you do, it’s…”

“I have to go,” you interrupted abruptly. Sebastian looked defeated. “I can make it back to my car, I just remembered I have to, uh…” You took your car keys, and Sebastian sighed. He was losing you, just like he feared he would. Great.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/n,” he said with a sad smile. He watched you walk to your old car, wrestle the key in, and sit down. And just as you did, the night’s first drop of rain fell from the sky. Of course it was supposed to rain as your entire life was crashing down on you. It was too ironic for it not to.

“Where’d Y/n go?” Anthony asked as he appeared at the trailer again.

“She looked like she was about to start crying,” Sebastian answered. “You said she liked me so I asked her, and all she said was she had to go.”

“Oh, my God, man, you did not lead with that question.” Sebastian sighed.

“It’s been five years, dude, I don’t know what I’m doing.” Anthony rolled his eyes and started to grab a makeup wipe. “I like her, and I’m pretty sure she all but said it, but I really think I screwed something up.”

“Yeah, you did. Just… Give it an hour. Bring her dinner, tell her you screwed up, and that you like her and you just didn’t know how to lead the question.” Sebastian looked down.

“But what if she doesn’t want to be with me? I’m old.”

“She does. And right now she’s probably thinking you don’t want to be with her, so you’d better go fix it before she cries into an entire quart of chocolate chip cookie dough and starts watching Gilmore Girls again.” Sebastian took his car keys and picked his jacket up from the back of the chair.

“Maybe I should just bring her the ice cream, too,” he grumbled to himself.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. She only likes the Ben & Jerry’s because it’s the only one that has enough cookie dough, so go ahead. But you should shower first, you smell like fire.” Sebastian nodded, slowly, and headed out into the cold rain.

“I just feel like such shit,” you told your mom. You had taken a break from crying when you got back to the little guest house you rented from an old rich couple in Tuxedo Park since it was close to the studio. You had called your mom, wishing she could give you some words of wisdom.

“Why else would he ask you if he doesn’t like you?”

“Mackie.” Your mom seemed to understand. You loved Anthony like a brother or an uncle, but he really didn’t seem to understand that you were a scared… Idiot. You were being an idiot.

“Oh.”

“I know I’m being an idiot, I just… I don’t want to ruin anything. And what if we do get together somehow and he just breaks up with me and I still need this job, and…”

“I think it’s a chance you should take,” your mom said. “You are being an idiot. What’s the worst that can happen if you don’t say anything? It’s going to come out sometime, and I think it already did.” You sniffled.

“I just really like him and I feel like I really screwed up.” You watched a set of car lights come down the house’s long driveway toward your little apartment, but it was just the owner, Moira, coming back from the country club.

“I think you can fix this, honey. And I think you know what you should do.” You nodded, slowly, but took a second look out your window and stood up from where you were laying on the couch. The lights weren’t Moira or her husband, Alexander. Or their daughter. It was Sebastian’s car. Your heart started beating faster.

“Sebastian’s here,” you said in pure shock.

“Well, go see what he wants,” your mom responded. “And call me later.” You hung up the phone absentmindedly, looking around you. You had the TV playing Gilmore Girls, you were wearing your oldest, ugliest pair of sweats, and you had cried all of your makeup off. You looked like an absolute wreck. If this didn’t make him hate you, you didn’t know what would. You tried to fix your hair a little, but you didn’t make it too far. Sebastian got out of his car in the pouring rain holding a brown paper bag you recognized well. It was from your favorite Italian restaurant. In another bag was a pint of cookie dough ice cream like the one you’d just finished. You sighed. He was definitely buying you dinner just to reject you. But you put your best face on and opened the door, taking in the smell of the pouring rain.

“Why are you here?” You asked him.

“Dinner!” He answered. You smiled at the innocence of his response and stood in the doorway, arms crossed, holding the door open with your back. “About earlier, in the trailer, I…”

“I do like you,” you responded when you could hear him over the rain. He was under the portico of the guest house, protected from the rain.

“You do?” His face lit up with a smile as he walked in, putting the bags down on the counter behind you. “Because I thought for a second…”

“No, I just… I was being an idiot.”

“No, I was being an idiot, I was such an asshole just calling you out like that, but I talked to…”

“… Mackie,” you finished for him. He nodded.

“Yeah. I just… He told me you only like Ben & Jerry’s, but they had two kinds with cookie dough so I got both of them, and then I got food, and I was hoping we could talk a little, just because….”

“Did you get two sets of silverware?”

“I was hoping I could eat with you. Like, I don’t know. Some kind of weird, impromptu, fucked-up, accidental date?” He asked timidly. You couldn’t help but smile, and that was when he actually looked down at you. “Have you been crying?”

“And eating Ben & Jerry’s,” you answered. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.

“And watching Gilmore Girls,” he said as he saw the TV. “That’s exactly what Mackie said.” You scoffed.

“How does he know me so well?”

“I can’t believe I don’t.” Sebastian looked down at you, brushing your hair behind your head. The door was still open and the rain was still beating down and you were melting from his touch as he held onto your cheek.

“Are you about to kiss me in the rain?” You asked him.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Just make it fast so my ice cream doesn’t melt and my food doesn’t get cold.” He smiled at you and leaned down, just enough to where he could kiss you. Your hands went to his chest to pull him closer. He had just showered and he smelled like the aftershave he always left in the trailer and you never wanted him to stop. He was just as soft and warm as he looked.

“Fast enough?”

A/N: I loved writing this so much omg. My power is back, my WiFi is back, and I am in my FEELS. I think you can probably tell I was listening to some old T Swift when I was writing this????

#Sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader

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romanianseba · 5 years ago

Text

Salty Pasta

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Summary: Dinner with Sebastian.

Warnings: none, but fluff!!!

World Count: 1.4k

A/N: i believe I wrote this when seb was in greece last year filming monday, so tanned sebastian was in my mind just so you know. this is one of my favorite things i've written and i don't know why i didn't post it sooner (also, hope this doesn't make sense only for me) i hope you enjoy this in this weird times we're living.

—

"You don't like the pasta." Sebastian commented suddenly from across the table.

It was a nice, chill, summer night you were spending on a small table situated outside a quaint Italian-themed restaurant. You looked up at him with a slight frown, taken aback when he said just what you were thinking.

"Do you?" He quirked an eyebrow when you didn't respond, his eyes on you.

You shrugged unbothered, not wanting to let a small thing ruin the beautiful moment you were having together because, knowing Sebastian, he wouldn't let it down if you said the truth.

"Babe, I know you. You always eat what you don't like first; completely. If you happened to like everything in your plate right now, you'll be eating it all together."

"It's too salty." You mumbled, giving up. Known to be a terrible liar, you didn't really stand a chance.

"Is it?" His brows frowned together as you nodded. "And why are you still eating it?" He chuckled.

"It's okay." Shaking your head you smiled softly as he leaned to take a taste of your pasta.

"Babe, it's too salty!"

"I know." You winced.

"Why didn't you say anything? Let me call the waitress."

"No! Sebastian, it's fine, really." You grabbed his wrist when he reached to take your plate.

"Babe, we're paying for this. As customers we have the right to give opinions."

"Look, I know that. But what if this person gets fired? I couldn't carry with the guilt."

His expression softened. "Your heart is pure gold, doll. But we need to tell them. In a nice way obviously, as a suggestion only. Maybe they made a mistake. They'll thank us you'll see."

"Seb..." You begged when he turned around his chair to call the waitress.

"I'm not gonna enjoy the rest of this dinner knowing that you're not enjoying yours, I'm not letting you finish this pasta. So we tell them or I'll eat it myself because I know you don't want to feel like we're wasting food." He said firmly.

You sighed. "Okay, but just don't tell them to bring a better pasta. Just give them the suggestion and I'll order something else."

"Of course, sweetheart." He leaned across the table to kiss your forehead and turned around to call the waitress. The young woman approached the table as soon as she realized she was being called.

"Is everything okay?" She asked with a lovely Italian accent, wearing a kind smile on her face.

You smiled at her and looked at Sebastian who was looking at you. He smiled and looked up at the waitress.

"Yeah, thank you very much. It's just that the pasta my wife ordered is very salty." He explained politely.

Your smile grew bigger. You loved to hear Sebastian letting people know you were his wife. Your heart would always jump happily inside your chest. You just loved the reminder of it coming from his voice, because one; you were his wife and two; he would always say it with a joyful little smile on his face. Your smile reached your eyes because you loved the condition he was in. Slightly sunburned, a simple white t-shirt, shorts, messy hair, and a relaxed expression on his beautiful, beard covered face. He was finally not looking tired after the past exhausted months he went through, between traveling, filming, press tours and premieres.

Your hand supporting your chin, all sounds and all actions happening around him being blocked out; you were in the middle of admiring your husband when you felt your plate being retired and Sebastian returned his attention to you. You came out of your trance to realize that the waitress was also looking at you now, a polite smile still on her face. You looked back at Sebastian, completely lost at where their conversation had gone and now, apparently, they were both expecting you to say something.

"She asked if you want to try a different kind of pasta. She says that's how people usually eat it here, saltier than pasta usually should be. Most costumers are regulars here and that's how they like it." Sebastian informed you when he saw the confusion in your eyes, urging him to explain to you what was going on.

"Uhm, yes, of course." You said nervously to the waitress, embarrassment taking over your features after being caught not paying attention, flush creeping up your face.

"I'll bring it back to you, Mrs." She said politely and walked away.

When you turned back to Sebastian, he was looking at you, his lip between his teeth in an attempt to hide his amusement. You laughed, playfully throwing your napkin at him.

"What happened, babe? Got a little distracted?" He made fun of you.

"I was just thinking how relaxed you look right now. Makes me happy to see you in such state of peace."

"C'mon, just confess you're utterly in love with me."

"Oh, that I am for sure. You're out here looking beautifully sun-kissed, it's just unfair for the rest of us. My pregnancy hormones are not helping either."

He grinned. Leaning across the small table -so small, your knees were touching his- he cupped your cheeks in his hands and pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

"You look wonderful." Sebastian murmured against your lips. "The most stunning momma out there."

He kissed you again as you wrapped one hand around his wrist. This kiss lasted longer and you were almost positive you had eyes on you already but you didn't care. It was a soft kiss and you rarely kissed in public. Not wanting to be that clingy couple to the world, you two enjoyed those moments to yourselves really most of the time.

But you melted with his touch immediately against his soft lips. You felt like jelly, only being held together by this man.

"I do feel relaxed." He said when he pulled away, leaving you floating in the air.

"That's what you deserve, honey." You managed to say after composing from the feeling of his lips against yours, and reached to steal some veggies from his plate. "The amount of times I saw you in the verge of collapsing during the past months. I would cry my eyes out, specially after you got me pregnant. I got very sensitive."

You saw the quick change of emotion on his eyes, a glint of sorrow when you mentioned crying for him and a joyful sparkle when you pointed out he got you pregnant. And his response was the exact reflection of those emotions; he said; "Oh God!" In the most adorable way, something he always said when he felt joyful and excited about something, and then; "I'm really sorry." Something he always says because that's how Sebastian is, it's his nature.

"Are you sorry for leaving me pregnant or for making me distressed?" You teased, already knowing the answer.

"I could never regret leaving a baby in you, is the most amazing thing in the world. You look gorgeous with a pregnant belly and I cannot wait to meet that little human being you're so courageously carrying with." His voice broke a little, his gaze full of love and emotion causing happy tears to come rushing to your eyes. "I do feel sorry for making you worry about me. I promise it won't happen again."

"I'll always worry about you not matter what, Sebastian." You giggled.

"Okay, yeah I know, but I won't give you reasons to get over worried. Not anymore."

"Thank you very much, sir." You beamed at him and he grinned back, playfully rolling his eyes.

"Here it is, Mrs. We're sorry for the misunderstanding, I hope you enjoy." The waitress came back and she placed your plate back in front of you.

"Thank you very much." You smiled at her.

Flushing once again for being caught when you and Sebastian were in your own bubble, looking at each other with goofy smiles on your faces. She kindly asked if you wanted something else and then just walked away.

"How is it now?" Sebastian asked as you both continued talking, pointing at your pasta.

"It's real good." You said, chewing some bread.

"Is it?"

You nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. I'm fine. Wanna try?"

"Oh, I know you are. But I'm asking how's your food."

You rolled your eyes. "Dear God."

"What?" He smiled innocently. "Hey, I thought you were talking about yourself."

"Stop it, silly."

You laughed, he laughed. And the night continued like that. Just you and Sebastian talking about everything and anything. From silly little things to how life would be as parents to more silly comments to what you were both most afraid about being new parents, baby names, encouraging comments to each other, loving glances, getting lost admiring each other's features and just a magical perfect night.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan imagine #one shot #fluff

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lovelyrhink · 5 years ago

Text

continuation of this for @half-of-something

link’s stomach drops at the sight of his friend standing in the doorway.

shameful heat curdles his blood and he panics, quickly turning away from the mirage of rhett watching him. he scrambles, roving his hands over the desk as if to clear the evidence as sweat rolls down the valley in his back. he’s too shocked to curse, silently wishing the floor to open up and swallow him down.

behind him, the office door clicks shut. rhett’s on him fast, pulling him to his feet by his biceps. he looks, meeting rhett’s eyes as his fever breaks him out in sweats, coiling stomach and sizzling nerves, fuzzy, fuzzy. link’s breath catches in the back of his throat in the moment before rhett’s lips are on him. rhett’s kiss smothers link’s fear, fearless. the man’s big hands squeeze link where they grip.

“oh, link,” rhett moans on link’s mouth, a faint, joyful cry as his soft lips press firmly against link’s. it feels- feels just like link thought it would, and his fear loosens the harder rhett kisses. he slips his tongue in link’s mouth, and link goes boneless, giving over to the big man holding him as he jellies.

link can’t comprehend, even as his tongue knows what to do. his wide eyes have gone blurry but it’s rhett, he’s sure of it, the real rhett, kissing him with a hot wet mouth, sloppily frenching him like a desperate college boy long overdue for a smooch. rhett keeps kissing him wordlessly, puffing hot air in the space between kisses as link’s hot-blooded fear boils into anxious lust.

rhett doesn’t let up as he stumbles into link, crowding him with his tall frame, taking, taking. link relaxes into the taste, and his eyes slide closed as rhett begins to move, releasing his arms to paw at his chest, belly, waist, hips. nervous, link squeaks out rhett’s name, which only spurs the man, growling out a possessive noise as he presses his body against link. and there-

link feels it. he’s hard, tight-bodied and swollen in his muscles, so deliciously masculine that link pushes through his haze to grab back. link grabs for him, touching all he can, as rhett keeps kissing. endless kisses, slick on his lips and hot to the touch. bulging, rippled muscles and soft mewls of pleasure. it’s a dream and link’s paralyzed by desire, reaching weakly to touch rhett’s beard to ground him, earthbound. rhett’s really here, in the office, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. distantly, link feels himself harden again. rhett senses it.

beautiful beardy mouth goes to link’s neck as one big hand works down his front, groping him where he’s sensitive. link pants, pulling on rhett’s hips to get him closer but squirming at the touch. it’s too much too fast, but link wants more than he can take, wants rhett to purr forever at his ear, squeezing the damp shape of his cock, urging it to swell again, premature and tender.

link nudges rhett with his head to get his mouth again, and rhett obliges. kisses like he’s never been kissed, touches like he’s never been touched. fever. link nips rhett’s lip and opens his mouth to receive, tongued as if lust can melt the memory of plexiglass. rhett’s soft lips on the other side of the sheet had link aching for weeks, months afterwards, but now, there is little shame, and rhett puts one hand on his hip as the other plunges into his sweats.

he tugs, squeezes, works quick. link’s legs give out but rhett grips his hips as he falters, pinning him awkwardly to the office chair, hunched over link like a hungry lover, eager to finish him again. link takes every wet kiss in time with rhett’s strokes, and it’s fast, quick to swell like he’s nineteen again and jerking off a second time as rhett lazily works himself in the bunk below. rhett teases something about catching him red-handed and the last shred of link’s dignity eeks out his cock, drooling where rhett has him by the mouth. big hand tugging, beardy mouth on him, and link will come again, just like this. he wants rhett’s tongue in his mouth as he comes in his hand, but rhett must sense that he wants it because he pulls back. whining at the loss of rhett’s tongue in his mouth, link blinks slowly as the big man pushes him back into the office chair and sinks to his knees. rhett grips his thighs and starts.

rhett’s mouth takes him and it’s different, different than his college girlfriend and his wife on a good night, because it’s rhett. rhett’s mouth has dropped from his lips to his cock, and the beardy wet heat feels even better down here. dazed, link watches as the small mouth takes his length, gaunt cheeks hollowing as he sucks, big hands pawing clumsily up his body, groping, claiming, needy.

too much, it’s too much, and link’s crying, crying out for rhett to slow down as his cock aches, overstimulated and pained with heat, but his hands push at rhett’s head, fingers in his curls as if magnetized to the gorgeous tangle. rhett sucks in earnest, holding link as he bucks up off the chair, desktop screensaver watching with a knowing blue glow, silent save the wet, imperfect sounds.

“rh-rhett,” link clicks, teeth gritting as he holds rhett’s handsome face between his legs. his body screams for release, screams like it knows it can never come alone after this, never again, not without the perfection of the man on him now.

the man looks up, curls over his eyes as he bobs his head, pinning link with a truth sharper than the refracted light of the video from years ago. hands gripping, pinning link to the moment, link tightens his fingers in his curls and hisses, aching to kiss him but unable, as he tenses and spills into rhett’s mouth.

#rhink #lemon #headcanons

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nitannichionne · 5 years ago

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His Own, Chapter 3: Someone’s Been Sleeping in My Bed & There He Is (Chris Evans James Dornan Werewolf Fanfic)

CHAPTER 3: Someone’s Sleeping In My Bed...& There He Is

“No!” You say, but you know this is happening.

The wolf you rescued last night became a man. You look in his blue eyes which sparkle and he smiles, “Uh, yes.”

You push him from you, and he comes right back and holds you close. You look down and see chest hair on muscular pecs, a washboard stomach and—“oh, you’re naked.” You suck a breath and look away.

He chuckles deeply, the vibration of his chest against yours making you tremble as he sniffs your neck.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You just sniffed me.”

“Yes, I did, and you know what I smelled?” he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear before he locks eyes with you again. “Pheremones.”

“Pheremones?” you repeat, swallowing hard.

“Pheremones are—” He rubs noses with you. “a chemical substance—” He kisses your nose. “produced—” He kisses your lips and tilts his head the other way. “and released by an animal—” He kisses your lips again and positions himself over you. “that affects the behavior of others in that species, usually of the opposite sex.” He kisses your chin. “Guess what I smell?”

“What?” you moan softly as he starts kissing your neck. The pit of your stomach stirs as his tongue flicks out on your skin and then he brings his lips into play to seal each tender assault of the trail he is making.

“Attraction.” He says softly. “It’s coming off your skin, out of your pores, and I have to respond to it.” You moan softly as his kisses trail lower and his hands travel up your nightshirt.

“Ah!” you exhale and arch as he comes up on his elbows over you, supporting your upper body. You feel him…that hard length nestling between your thighs grinding in request for entry, and your mind is going blank while the rest of you is turning to jelly and opening up to him. You feel a slight chill as your nightshirt slides up your body and he extends your arms over your head to pull it off completely.

“See?” He chuckles softly, holding your wrists together with one hand. He goes lower on your body and you shiver as his mouth closes over one of your breasts and his tongue flicks and circles the tip. He goes to the other and you squirm as once again you feel your body arching as it starts to open in invitation to him, sex quivering, breath quickening. Your fingers dig into his sides, trying to steady yourself. His hips grind into yours. “I’d prefer it if you’d rake my back.”

You gasp, opening your eyes to see him deliver kisses down the center of your body. You are held captive by him in the most primal way as he inhales your most intimate scent, resulting in his eyes rolling closed for a second.

“You are mine now.”

You try to talk but then his mouth seizes you. You suck a breath loudly, and you try to pull away, if only to clear your head, but his arms are locked around your legs. For a fleeting moment you admire the sheer strength of his biceps, and then his tongue flicks and delves in such a way you cry out, your mind completely blank. You pant hard, arching to him lost in sensation. Your breath hitches and your moans become high pitched and louder, writhing in his sensual embrace.

Your first release comes, and he moans, tasting you for the first time. And you, you feel like you didn’t know what real desire tastes like till this moment: the hunger to taste, the need to be touched, the ache to be filled. In your own way, you feel like you will lose it if you don’t have him. You stop breathing as you look into his glowing eyes and he pounces forward, aligning his body with yours as he growls over you like an animal over prey. You start to tremble as you feel him nestle between your legs, his member moving back and forth and dividing your lovelips. He kisses you and you respond, lost.

You cry out as his hips thrust hard into yours, and you feel his thick length surge inside you, stretching you. You grip is biceps, and your scream becomes more of high pitched exhale, ending in a whimpering moan. He growls as if to steady and comfort you, his lips brushing and caressing your neck as he starts to rock in and out of you gently. You begin panting again, your hands resting on his back and fingers digging into his spine. He hisses at the sensation and kisses you passionately, his body moving faster and harder inside and over you. You moan into each other’s mouths as you kiss, passions building higher. He scoops one leg over his forearm, trying to get closer, deeper. Your grunts and groans are in unison, his deep, yours high.

“I am yours,” he pants. “Are you mine?”

You can barely think. Your blood is thudding in your ears, your sex is throbbing around his. “Uh…”

He growls as if for control. “Are you mine?”

“YES!” You arch hard, making you both cry out as he bites your neck and you scratch his back, your hearts racing your bodies higher, to the edge, and finally over it.

You hold each other tightly, riding out the climax, your body throbbing around him and feeling a hot flood coating and heating your walls while a little voice inside you mentions birth control. It fades, you don’t care, and neither does he. He seems to want every drop spilled inside you and your body can’t stop coaxing it out of him, feeling more at peace with every bit of himself he gives.

He rests his forehead against yours and moans a heavy exhale. He kisses you again and you’re speechless. That was too intense for words. He comes up on his elbows, supporting your upper body, cradling you in his embrace, his hands tangled in your hair. “You’re with me, now.” He watches you frown a little. “Yes, you are. Should I prove it again?” He kisses your nose and your heart melts.

Suddenly there is a knock on your door. “Oh, my God!”

He turns and sniffs the air. “A man and woman.”

You hear your aunt and uncle calling your name.

“Who’s that?” he asks, holding you as if he is shielding you with his body.

You smile and touch his cheek. “My aunt and uncle. They’re probably checking on me.” They knock and call again, louder. “I-I’d better get rid of them.” You struggle. “Let me up!”

He chuckles deeply making you gasp as he pulls out of and rolls off you. You whimper a little, wishing you didn’t have the interruption. You grab your nightgown, pulling it over your head, and then go to see what is happening.

“Hey, we just came down to check on you—” He stops talking and looks at you. “Uh, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I was sleeping in,” you say with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

“There’s marks on your porch, honey,” Aunt Joyce frowns. “Like blood or something?”

“Really?” You ask nervously. “Blood?”

“Oh, that would be my fault!”

You look on with dread as your wolf-man comes down the steps in nothing but a robe. You are thanking the heavens you have one of those heavy hooded boxer looking ones that wrap you like a blanket instead of something frilly. “Uh—”

“Chris-“ He smiles broadly. “Chris Evans?”

“Uh…”

“Sheriff at Canis Creek,” Chris nods. “We had some wild dog trouble last night.”

“Wild dog?” Aunt Joyce becomes alarmed. “Wolves?”

“No, coyote,” Chris nods. “They’ve been growing in number scavenging.” He pulls you into his embrace. “I got worried and came to see her.”

“Worried?” Aunt Joyce asks.

“Yeah,” Chris smiles broadly. “I’m just happy she took me back.”

Your aunt’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“We’ve been seeing each other on and off, and I’ve been trying to talk her into making things more permanent,” he frowns and looks at you, looking wounded. “You didn’t tell them about me?”

You open your mouth to speak, and then your uncle clears his throat.

“Looks like you two got some things to, uh, work out,” Uncle John says and pats his wife’s back. “Let’s go, honey.”

“How about you two come up for lunch?” Aunt Joyce asks as my uncle leads her away.

“We’ll try,” Chris smiles. “got work today.”

Your eyes fly to his. He just answered for you both! He smiles widely, pleasantly. How did he do that? He just took over…like that!

“Well, if you can’t, let’s try dinner.” Aunt Joyce offers. “Steaks?”

“Oh, we gotta try to get to that, babe,” Chris shakes his head. “That also sounds better, since I may be off work in time for that.”

They take their leave, no more questions. How did he end the inquiry?

@nuggsmum @messyinsomnimaniac @jencanbeyouryengeralt @sweetdreamsofgelato @@mary-ann84 @omgkatinka @the-soot-sprite @viking-raider @keanureevesisbae @henryobsessed @summersong69 @sunshine96love @michelehansel @thelastsock @tumblnewby @tenaciousneckpartypainter @rn7rocks @daydreamin83 @musicartmayheminmyheart @kaatelyynn-blog-blog@forallthebrokenheartedthings @alphacancrii @liquorlaughslove @designerwriterchic @tamychm @nikkilynn303 @circesgirl1 @xoxohannahlee @pixie88@fckdeusername @maan24 @kaatelyyynn @october505 @absentmindr @introvertedmouse @sassy-pelican @griscka75 @kebabgirl67 @its-carlerr

Thanks for the support! I hope to hear from you.

@mistress-of-ward

#chris evans #chrisevans #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fandom #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #captainamerica #Captain america

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #350

“let’s play a love game, play a love game / do you want love, or you want fame? / are you in the game?”

Who was your first good kiss with? Jason. Would you kiss this person again? I know I fucking would and I hate it more than I could possibly express. Name something that is on your bedroom wall? Lots of artwork, mostly of meerkats. What accessory do you want in your bedroom? I need another desk to put stuff on. If you could paint your walls any color what would it be? Something pastel. Maybe like, peach. Soft and warm and would really bring light to the room. What does your phone case look like? It's just this boring purple one that came with the phone. What do you take the most pictures of? My camera roll says my pets, hahaha. What is the point of Twitter for you? Liking Mark's shit lmao. What does your planner look like? I don’t have one. If you get into an argument what is it usually about? My anxiety, I think. What are you always in the mood for? Ummm probably a car ride where I can control the music in the passenger seat. It is very, very rare I'll turn that opportunity down. What’s the last emergency you dealt with? I don't really know; I'm thankfully not in these situations very much, especially when you're cooped up at home. I probably haven't been actually engaged in an emergency since I had to call 911 for my mom before she found out about her cancer. She was basically immobile from agony in her abdomen. Do you have a son? I'm perfectly happy without a son, or kids period. Are you married? No. Have you ever worn a suit? I haven't. Have you ever had to call 911? Twice for Mom. How many keys are on your key-ring? Just one for the house. What’s the last thing you created? An RP post would count as art creation, I'd say. Who are your closest friends? Sara, Girt, and uh... Well, they might be it as far as friends I consider truly close to me. I have a few other people I consider good friends, but we're just not like... on that "close" level, you know? Lisa is maybe another, and Lyndsey perhaps, both WoW friends. Are you ready to have a family? I hate that "have a family" tends to mean get married and have kids, which I'm guessing is what you're implying. If that's the case, no, given I don't want kids and am not fit to get married right now. I'm not even with anyone. I'm content right now with just living with my mom and my two pets, who are children well enough to me. Have you ever taken a DNA test? No. Do you have a family cemetery? No. Would you say you have a high sex drive or not so much? *shrugs* I think it's pretty normal. How do you feel about swallowing pills? What do you mean how do I "feel" about it? I just do it if I need to. What animal is the scariest in your opinion? Some kind of bug, probably. Giant centipedes creep me the fuck out, for one, and I've heard their bite is incredibly painful. I've also always been very afraid of Australia's funnel web spiders since watching some show on Animal Planet when I was younger; I think it scarred me for life, aha. And let's not forget the murder hornets. No thnx, rather die. :') Have you ever questioned your sanity? Way more than once, my friend. How do you feel about people wearing fur coats? Are you for or against it? I am VIOLENTLY against it unless it is for survival in extreme climates and you don't have access to other material. That aside, there is NO way you could possibly convince me that it's okay to wear the fur of something once living on yourself for ~fashion~. What’s the worst thing a friend has either done or said to you? Let's not go here. What’s fake about you? Like extensions, fake nails, botox etc. Nothing. If you got the chance, would you audition for a reality show? No. Have you ever gotten into a Facebook fight? Haha, yeah. Favorite flavor of jelly bean? Probably watermelon or strawberry. I'm not a massive jellybean fan. Do you use Tinder? If yes, have you ever met up with someone you matched? I've never tried it, no. What book/movie has made you cry the hardest? Either The Notebook or Titanic. Something you feared as a kid but don’t anymore? Thunderstorms. What’s your skincare routine? I don't really have one. Just wash it with water in the shower and then use a washcloth when I feel the need. Would you rather have a snake or a tarantula as a pet? I want both, but I prefer snakes. What is something you are NOT looking forward to? I both am and am not looking forward to my second Covid vaccine because it's notoriously worse than the first; the only bright side to it is that after the potential side effects blow over, I'm job hunting. What do you usually do right when you wake up? Check the time on my phone. Would you rather eat your pizza cold or hot? Hot, but I like both. Who taught you how to swim? Dad, I think? Can you do push-ups? No. Do you like Doritos? Yesssss. Who is the closest friend that you live by? I don't know. Have you ever banged your head against something? I've had two concussions before, so, y'know. Have you ever jumped on a trampoline? Yeah, I loved that as a kid. Do you like watching scary movies? Yeah. Has anyone ever told you that you have a big butt? No, considering I have like no ass, rip. Has one of your friends ever tried to "hook you up?" Ugh, yes. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? Landmarks, by a mile. Although, I'm super bad with directions, so it probably wouldn't really matter much. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Yeah, you got to. Does your house have more than one fireplace? No. What was your favourite gym class moment? The one and only thing I liked about gym as a kid was when you took one of those rainbow tarps and made like, an air bubble underneath to make this awesome dome everyone sat in. Ya missed out if you didn't do that. Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? Yeah. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? Not at all; I was always flattered, knowing they cared enough to want mine. Apple Jacks: yay or nay? I looove those. Do you have a favorite Scooby-Doo movie? Haha yeah, I think it's the second one? Such iconic scenes. It's the one with the Mary Jane girl that Shaggy liked... oh, jokes that went over your head as a kid. Who were your last 3 Facebook messages from and what do they say? I'm too lazy to list the convos themselves, but the people involved are my friends Chelsea and Ian, as well as a friend's mother. Do you turn your phone off at night when you go to sleep? No. It's always on vibrate, and I just turn the brightness way down. What is the sexual orientation of the last person you talked to? She's straight. What’s your favourite hairstyle on the opposite sex? Don't you fucking dare laugh, emo hair is A++. Has anyone ever played a prank on you? What happened? Not a big one, no. Do you like the Silent Hill movies? Do I?! I love the first one (though for a while I wasn't very happy they swapped the lead role from Harry to his wife), and while the second is literal trash story-wise and it's ALL over the damn place, I still enjoy it with just how much I adore SH as a whole. What movie scared you the most out of any other movies? The Rite, because the concept of being raped and impregnated by a demon is fucking horrifying to me. Have you ever wanted to be on American Idol? When was this? Nah. Name 5 things you don’t believe in. 1.) "Everything happens for a reason;" 2.) karma; 3.) destiny/fate; 4.) psychics, fortune tellers, all that; and 5.) luck, at least in the sense of someone having set "good" or "bad" luck. If you could have any friend that you’ve lost back, who would you pick? Probably Megan. If you have pets, who normally puts food and water in their dish? Me for both of them. Do you organize the pictures on your computer into different folders or are they all just under “My Pictures”? I have folders. Do you think if someone is in a relationship, that it is acceptable to have sleepovers with other people of their preferred sex? Eh, nah, that feels a bit far to me. I am very firmly for friends still being able to hang out even if they're each other's preferred gender, but a sleepover sounds a bit too intimate, even without sharing a bed. Would you shoot a gun if given the chance? If you’ve shot a gun before, how many different types of guns have you shot? No. I'm very intimidated by guns and nearly shook when I merely handed a friend his (not for anything bad, he just carried it with him when he goes out), and I've got noooo plans of holding one again unless my life depends on it. Do you feel uncomfortable sharing things like artwork or poetry you’ve written? Is it because you don’t think it’s good enough to show off or because it’s too personal? You. Have. Zero. Idea. It's for both reasons, and it's far more severe in person. Online, I actually don't mind much, oddly enough... I can't quite pin down why. Do you have any siblings you absolutely despise? Why do you despise them? No. Do knives scare you? Is it from watching scary movies? Knives scare me like five times more than guns. Scary movies have nothing to do with it, though. They're just so sharp and the idea of being stabbed by one is terrifying. As someone with a history of self-mutilation too (not with knives, but I've thought about it and once planned to slit my throat with one, but Mom stopped me), they just make me incredibly uncomfortable to the point I can barely hold a "real" knife to just slice food. Have you ever climbed a chain-link fence? Many times. What is your LEAST favorite Disney animated movie? That I've seen, uhhhhh... I don't know man, there are way too many Disney movies lmao. Who was the last person’s house you went to besides your own? My sister's. On YouTube, who are two people you find hilarious? I'm just counting GameGrumps as one, and then you can't forget Shane Dawson, regardless of the controversy. He probably made me laugh more than any other YouTuber. Do you shave your pits? Yeah. Do you know anyone who has been on life support, and survived? I don't think so. Besides the USA, what is your favorite country? I'm not nearly informed enough about foreign countries' politics and laws and mannerisms to have a favorite. Would you rather go to Europe or Asia? Europe. Would you rather go to Africa or Australia? Africa. Would you rather go to Mexico or Canada? Canada. Do you think emo/scene hair is attractive? I love emo and scene hair, don't @ me, it's cute as fuck. Have you ever seen a ghost orb picture? Lots, actually, at one of my old houses that I totally know was haunted. Do you think abortion should be illegal? NO. You would NOT end abortions. You would end SAFE abortions. Do any of your pets have strange habits? Explain? Venus, my ball python, is extremely odd with food to the point I sometimes worry about her, but she's always been this way and is healthy, so I guess it's nothing really worth fretting over. Anyway, when I place her rat in her terrarium, she gets excited first and will pretty much frantically examine her surroundings, like slithering around everywhere, and even when she has clearly found the rat (she'll even prod it with her snout), she usually won't immediately eat. She just like... sits there and has to continue to verify for ten minutes that it's food. I know it's thawed perfectly, btw. So anyway, THAT'S weird... As for Roman, dear god, that cat's just weird, lmao. Especially in the morning, he's very hyper and will bolt around the house sometimes, he "plays" with nothing all the time, he "meerkat"s at nothing that I can nothing, etc. etc. etc. He's a weirdo lol. Have you ever told an extremely inappropriate joke? Oh god, I said something really inapprops once when my friend Chelsea startled me. I won't be repeating it lmao. Who in life have you felt the strongest need to protect? Sara, I think. Who have you most feared in your life? My dad. He doesn't scare me anymore, but he did. What was the quickest friendship you ever made? Oh idk. What is the worst word anyone ever used to describe you? "Martyr." And not the kind that dies for their beliefs. It hurt me so badly to know someone thought of me that way, and I'll probably never let it go. If you have any pets, were they adopted from the humane society? No. Roman is one of the billion kittens born to the cats my sister's in-laws have, and Venus is from a ball python breeding business in Florida called The Gourmet Rodent (they sell f/t rodents too, obvs) Do you like home design, like picking out paint colors and furniture? Not really. My grandmother though, whew, that was her calling for sure. Have you seen any of the old James Bond movies? Nope. List all of your features that you have ever gotten compliments on: My hair, my eyes, my tattoos, my hands, I think my nose, my dimples, my smile, and my boobs lmao. Have you ever been in a hot air balloon? And if not, would you ever want to go in one? I haven't. I think it'd be kinda cool, but they seem too easy to fall out of, and I'm afraid of heights. I'd probably go in one if given the opportunity. Do you have any stains on your shirt currently? No, but there are two small rips. It's just an old tank top. Do you listen to local bands? No. Not that I'm opposed, I just don't know of any I really enjoy. Do you watch YouTube videos often? Many, many daily. Do your parents fight? Do they even talk at all? They're divorced; they used to fight a lot when they were together. Now they only talk if they have reason to. Have you ever watched a movie that's in a complete different language, so you had to read sub-titles? No. Do people with yellow teeth disgust you? Dude, fuck off, no. My teeth are kinda yellow, and I'm extremely self-conscious about it, so seriously fuck this question. You never know for sure why someone's teeth may seem yellowish. Do you drink alcohol on New Year’s Eve? Usually a drink or two. Do you wear rings? I always have two on, yeah. Are you hungry right now? No, I literally just ate a breakfast bowl. Have you ever tried smoking a cigarette? No; I haven't the slightest interest in doing so.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''lovegame'' by lady gaga

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lindalevanimamm · 5 years ago

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Reality- Chapter 7

I woke up feeling a lot better. I got up and found my way to a bathroom to get ready. More new things today. I only want to worry about two things. Number one, moving in. Number two, chat with the RFA. After I was showered and dressed, I made my way to the kitchen. It didn’t look like anyone was up yet, so I decided to start making breakfast for everyone. Well, I was, that is, until I opened up Saeyoung’s fridge. He and Saeran apparently don’t cook. It was full of Phd Pepper, and random things like cheese, milk, jelly, and just stuff you couldn’t make a meal with. I frowned. How are these two even alive? After digging through the fridge I found some eggs, and settled on just cooking them. I began to stand back up, after crouching to find the eggs, to shut the fridge. My eyes met with two others and I jumped back and fell, hitting my head on the fridge’s handle on the way back down. “Ow” I sighed. I looked up to see a worried looking Saeran. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” he stated then held out his hand to help me up. I took it. “You’re fine!” I replied.

“So, uh, what are you doing?” he asked.

“Well I was going to make breakfast, but you all don’t seem to have much. I did find some eggs though and I was going to cook them,” I answered. Saeran smiled at me, looking relieved.

“Oh, sorry about that. I was going to make Saeyoung take me today to pick up ingredients since I ran out. I do the cooking for the most part. Saeyoung is a mess in the kitchen.”

“Oh thank God. I was worried for a minute. I figured Saeyoung couldn’t cook due to the half cooked pancakes he made me, but I’m glad someone here is.” Saeran reached and grabbed the few eggs I was going to cook.

“If it’s okay with you we can just order some food. I’ll be stopping off at the grocery store at some point when we’re moving you.” I smiled and nodded. I hope I’m not being too awkward. Ugh. Wait...what if instead of ordering we… I began to grin at the idea I just had. Saeran seemed to notice. “(Y/N) is everything okay?” he asked.

“More than okay. What if instead of ordering food we, well, you know, go pick some up?” I trailed off.

“Pick them up? How would we do that?”

“Well, I know Saeyoung has cars, he always showed them off. It’s not like I’ve never driven before and the driving laws here can’t be that different…”

“That sounds like something Saeyoung would flip out over,” he paused and smiled. “Let’s do it. I’m totally in!” I smiled back. Hehe I can finally drive a cool car! The two of us quickly and quietly made our way to the garage. We decided on which car we were going to take and grabbed the keys. I made my way into the driver's seat and smiled. It was so cool. I looked over at Saeran and beamed.

“You ready to go?” I asked. He laughed and shook his head.

“You’re crazier than him, but yes.” With that, I started the car. It sounds so cool. I was so excited. I started off driving slower than what I wanted, but I wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t crash and kill both of us. Once I was more comfortable, I was zooming. It felt amazing, it was exciting. The drive was mostly silent, but still comfortable. Saeran led me first to a grocery store. We got out and shopped together, making some small talk. After that we went to a cafe and picked up some breakfast to bring home. Saeran had the brilliant idea of bringing Saeyoung his favorite doughnut, as an apology for stealing his car. We were gone for around an hour and made it back safely…..or so I wish. I guess I had gotten a little too carried away and sped a bit too much as we were pulled over. As soon as I saw the lights I looked over at Saeran in horror. I’m not from this universe so it’s not like my licence is going to be valid, not to mention if he recognizes Saeran for any reason that could be really bad. I’m sure police are some the two tend to avoid. Both Saeyoung and Saeran had a complicated background and literally hacked into things for money. Saeran looked at me, slight worry in his eye.

“Well, this sucks. When you pull over, switch me spots quickly and as discreetly as you can, then follow my lead,” he told me. I nodded and pulled over. As soon as I pulled over, we both unbuckled and switched spots, thankfully the policeman didn’t notice. I buckled back up, barely, I noticed my hands had begun to shake so it was difficult to buckle. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. This is what happens when you try to have fun (Y/N). Now you’ve made a big scene, not to mention having to tell Saeyoung when we get back. Ugh he’s going to be so mad at me!! Saeran rolled down the window and smiled.

“License and registration,” the policeman stated. I don’t know how he got it, but Saeran pulled out a license, and reached over for the registration stuff and gave it to them. Once the policeman was out of eyesight and earshot, Saeran whispered to me. “In the glove compartment there is a heavy laptop, could you grab it for me?” Confused, I grabbed it and handed it to him. “Keep watch,” he stated. I watched as he opened it up and pulled up a database. Of course. He’s hacking our way out of this. Smart. But also could go wrong very fast. “S-Saeran,” I paused. “Are you sure that’s a good idea.” He nodded. I decided to trust him and keep an eye out to make sure the policeman wasn’t coming back. After only a few minutes, Saeran shut the laptop and handed it back to me to put back in the glove compartment. He smiled. “There. We should be good now.” We sat in silence waiting for the policeman to return. I was super anxious at this point, thinking of all the things that could go wrong and how Saeyoung would react. Eventually the policeman came back.

“Mr. Choi?” they asked.

“Yes?” Saeran answered. Did he really use his real name? Is that okay?

“Looks like everything is up to date, but do you know how fast you were going?”

“Ah, I’m so sorry. My wife and I here were just trying to get home for our child's first birthday, we left him with the sitter to pick up some things for it. I honestly don’t know how fast I was going. I’m a bit excited I guess.” Saeran laughed hesitantly.

“Well, you were getting close to 100mph,” the policeman paused. “I understand the excitement, but please watch you speed from here on. I’m sure your child would like for you to make it home.”

“Yes. I am so sorry. Thank you.” The policeman nodded and drove away. Saeran turn to look at me. I shrunk down in my seat.

“O-one hundred miles per hour (Y/N)? What the hell?!”

“Sorry, I guess I got a little carried away,” I mumbled.

“Well, please slow down from now on.” I nodded. We switched spots again. I started driving, feeling the pit in my stomach growing. I felt really bad. We made it back to the bunker and found Saeyoung waiting inside the garage. Saeran got out of the car first. I took a deep breath and tried to act like nothing happened. It didn’t work.

“Saeran, what did I tell you about taking my cars without me! You’re such a bad driver my baby could have gotten hurt!” I heard Saeyoung whine to Saeran. Saeran tried not to smile.

“I didn’t drive, but you should be worried about (Y/N)’s driving abilities,” he laughed. I looked down.

“What are you talking about? (Y/N) are you okay? What happened?” I sighed, and continued to look at the floor.

“Well, I, uh, kinda got a little excited to be driving such a cool car that I guess I was speeding a bit too much, and we, uh, we got pulled over…” I looked up and saw Saeyoung’s eyes grow wide, before softening. Then he started laughing. Not just a small laugh either, like full blown doubled over laughing. Saeran joined in making me even more confused. Why isn’t he mad? Once he finally calmed down he spoke. “Wow (Y/N), I would not have expected that!”

“What?” I asked.

“Oh wow, phew. I can’t tell you how many times Saeran and myself have been pulled over for speeding. How fast were you going? How did you get out of it? Or did my little bro fail you and you didn’t get away with a warning?” I was stunned. Saeran spoke for me.

“Police said they were going over one hundred miles. And for your information, I got out of it very easily pulling a few hacking strings and lying a bit.”

“Oh ho ho, nice!” Saeyoung held out his hand and fist bumped Saeran. What is happening? He’s seriously okay with all of this? “Tell me (Y/N), how fast were you going? Pleasssseee tell me I have to know!” I relaxed a bit. He really doesn’t care. Might as well be honest.

“125,” I mumbled. His jaw dropped.

“Did you just say 125 miles per hour (Y/N)?” he asked. I nodded. He clapped his hands. “Ladies and gentlemen a new record!” I watched as he walked over to a whiteboard and changed the 98 into a 125, and then wrote my name next to it.

“What is happening?” I asked.

“Oh well, Saeran and I have an ongoing competition to see who can get away with speeding. I held the record. I was going 98 miles per hour and was pulled over, but got out of a ticket,” Saeyoung explained.

“Shouldn’t my name be going up there with (Y/N)’s? It was a team effort,” Saeran challenged.

“Is this true (Y/N)?” I nodded. Saeyoung sighed and wrote Saeran’s name next to mine. Saeran smiled. I was still confused and shocked. Then it hit me.

“Hold on, you two go around speeding and getting caught, just for fun? Then why did Saeran act so surprised and tell me to not speed? ” I asked. They both turned and smiled.

“Yep! We speed for fun and hope to get pulled over.” Saeyoung answered me.

“Sorry, I was surprised at first. Then I realized you completely demolished Saeyoung’s record, but I was pretty sure if you kept going that fast we’d get pulled over again and it would be much harder to get out of that a second time,” Saeran answered the other question. I stood in awe and shook my head. Here I was thinking Saeyoung would be upset. I began to laugh.

“You two are insane.”

The three of us made our way inside to eat. We ate and then decided to get on with our day. We spent the majority of the day going from store to store buying furniture, after looking at the apartment and deciding on what I would need. It took the majority of the day, but there were many periods of laughter and we had fun. Around 7pm, I finally had a fully-furnished and comfortable apartment, thanks to the help of both Saeyoung and Saeran. I was nervous about staying alone, but I let the two leave for the night. Saeyoung was quick to remind me that he was just a phone call away, so if I needed him to just call and he’d be here. I don’t think anyone has ever told me that before. I smiled and waved goodbye, as their car pulled away from my new apartment.

#saeyoung choi #saeyoung choi x reader #707 x reader #707 #mystic messenger #fanfic

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staycatcher · 5 years ago

Text

Cursed 001

Member: Kim Seungmin x Femme Reader (she/her) (Jisung is also in this, we love wingpeople)

Au: (Dorky/Pure) Frat Boy! Seungmin x Baddie! Reader + Unexpected Soulmate AU [in the same universe as Anguish, no need to read it though!]

Genre: Crack, Angst, Fluff? (she’s all over the place, partner🤠)

Rated 14? for too much swearing, kind-of-stranger danger, getting into mentioned kind-of-stranger’s car (don’t do what y/n did!!), suggestive themes & jokes, hangover & leftover tipsiness, cringe, promiscuous bisexual reader, nothing explicit though!! Also, Jisung is too much I’m sorry

Word Count: 4.1k

Notes: special thanks to @staytion-nine for being a bro and reading & critiquing my full shitty drafts and @strayneoculturekids & @hyunjinssmile for thinking my crack parts were good & somewhat funny way back when I wrote them ilyssssm🤗💞💛

ps, I hope you readers liked/found my easter eggs!!🥴

“Your heart began to sing, sing triumphantly as if you broke some sort of curse- Curse? Wait, hold up. Hold the fuck up. I think he’s my soulmate?! But I can’t possibly have one-”

Cursed series 1/?- ~001~ 😈🤓😳~

Growing up, not a single day passed without your single mother reminding you that meeting your soulmate wasn't going to happen for you. The odds were not at all in your favor, not her’s, not your grandmother’s and not even your great grandmother’s mom; being the youngest girl of the youngest in the family made you carry such a burden. The streak that your family had going on for generations was too strong to break at this point. It’d be a miracle and a half if you ever heard of your soulmate for a fraction of a second. You started to accept by the time you learned how to read, that a life with a soulmate was frankly not in the cards for you.

To say you were completely and utterly blind-sighted when you met your soulmate, would be the understatement of the century. You lived your whole life with no fear or any expectations of long lasting relationships whether it’s with a soulmate or not. You lived the life you knew many people with soulmates or obsessions with commitment couldn’t live. You lived a life of freedom, focused on yourself.

Now, it's been three months at this university; three months, and you already have a reputation that precedes you. Contrary to popular belief, you don't like the attention. Yet somehow the spotlight seems to follow you. Though, you would argue you weren’t as charismatic as you were careless. Your carelessness seemed to be your charm and charming you seemed to be.

A groan tore out from your throat when as stretched over to snatch your boots. Jelly legs hobbling all over the place as you scrambled to tug them on, stubbornly not zipping down the zipper which only made it harder for you in the long run. Once on, you trudge on forward, not giving a shit if things were inside out or not, all that mattered to you was going back to sleep in your own bed. You have to remain careful though. You don’t want to go too fast and have stomach acid erupt out of you in aggravation, ruining the Sorority’s carpet and your morning. So, you watched each and every wobbly step as you did your best to navigate your way out of the crowded, trashed halls of the post-party filth. Fortunately, it seemed you’ve risen before anyone else, no conscious creatures for you to deal with.

The clock struck six o’clock as you strut down Greek row, your steps more firm now, waking you up more with each step. However, waking up meant more hangover symptoms, though you weren’t exactly sober. You made it about four more clumsy steps down the sidewalk before a car slows down next to you. This has happened to you more times than you can count, but never when the birds were fucking chirping. You huff out in irritation, walking faster, thus, less firm as you tried to remain calm.

Who the hell pulls up to you when it’s fucking sunrise?! Unbelievable.

You only make it two more steps before the right next to you. Even though you tell yourself not to, your head swivels to look at the driver on instinct. He looks vaguely familiar, you’ve seen those cheeks somewhere but his name is lost on you. You acknowledge him with a questioning look as he rolls down the window.

“Want a ride?” He offers like you’ve known him for ten years and your pets were best friends. You were expecting a catcall but his voice was full of awkward sincerity and a bit of reluctance that couldn’t be faked.

“I thought chivalry was de-ad.” You choked, giving a nudge with your words to test his sincerity.

“I thought you liked girls more and don’t believe in it anyway.” He dished back. Okay, fair. This guy’s a real one.

“Touché... Ohhh what the helll-” You huffed, “I’ll take it.” You vaguely recognize him and he seems to know you too so what can hurt; that’s at least how you look at it in the buzzed moment.

His unimpressive car comes to a smooth stop, you hear the doors unlock and you sluggishly yanked the door open and groan as you slide in, kindly ignoring the mess because you’re not much better.

“Did you not party last ni’?” You blurted, looking over at him with a dry smile. As you do, you can really take him in. His dark, messy hair and his cute over-expressive face, topped with a pair of doughy cheeks. Despite the cuteness, there’s not a doubt in your mind this is some frat boy on the college team, though you’re not even sure what team is in season right now. One thing was for sure though, his guns were proudly out of a cut out muscle-t like a living, breathing fuckboy starter pack. Infuriatingly, he pulled it off, he looked too attractive for this time, on the weekend especially. With all that being said, he seriously looks like the kind of guy that should be as fucked up as you are right now. And yet, here he is, behind the wheel looking as sober as a slice of bread.

“Nah,” He starts, getting his foot off the brake and turning back into the road, “me and my soulmate stayed in ‘cuz coach is making practice earlier than usual.”

Well, that train left the station. “Ahh, that-that's too bad.” You heard yourself pettily trail off.

“Nah, ‘zall good. I think coach is taking it out on us ‘cuz his wife found out he’s doin’ drugs and gambling again-“

“Do ya have any friends like you?” You blurted out again.

“Huh??”

“Do ya got any friends that do things like this?” You grumbled, resisting the urge to facepalm at yourself. Fucking hell, Y/n.

“That go to practice this early? Yehh. The whole fucking basketball te-“

“No!” You hiss, head pulsing, his voice is too goddamn loud. “Gentlemen!” clarifying and sulkily leaned your head against the cool window.

“Ohhh!!~” Then he belts out laughing like a blaring fire alarm, making your entire brain rattle.

“Shhhh!” As you turn to glare at him, you realize your turn was coming up. “Wait!! Turn here!!”

He hissed and stepped harshly on the breaks. “This one?”

“Yeah!!-“ it was already too late when you unnecessarily clarified, so he had to turn around and go turn in again. Thank god the streets were dead at this date and time. You’re sure he broke at least four traffic laws.

“Shit, man!! You can’t say that and then expect me to make the turn, I got too excited!!” He was beaming, far too excited for your dumb question and not at all concerned about his chaotic driving.

“What the fuuck?!?! You’ got a soulmate-“

“No, dumbass!!” He whines like you just missed the best play in the whole game, too bad there aren’t instant replies for day to day conversations. “I have a bro who we’ve been trying to get laid.~” And now he makes the turn, good job buddy.

“Okay, two stops from now you’re gonna turn left.” It is then that you realize the last part of what he just said. “Huh? Li-like frat bro?”

“Yeah, dude. He’s so pissy I don’t think his hand is doin’ it for him anymore.” The dude laughed at his own joke, elbowing you in the side. Normally you would have joined in and punched him but for some reason, your little fucked up heart started to warm up hearing about this cute frat boy.

“Ahhhh.” And then you laughed a little too late, his wingmanning ass didn’t notice.

“Yeah! And he says books are better than pussy so that’s how we know he’s becoming a lost cause. We’re placing our bets that he won’t get it on until he finds his soulmate.”

“What a swee-eetheart.~” You hiccupped with dazed eyes and chapped smile. You had to admit, you were endeared. You never heard about a dorky, innocent fraternity boy before, and you never would have thought that it would appeal to you.

“Is it this one or the next one?”

“This one. So whoo’z this friend of yours-“ Unfortunately you were caught off by a ringtone blasting at the fullest volume making your brain wail in pain, for the second fucking time this morning.

He just snickers. “Sorry, gotta answer this… Yuh~?” You just huffed and closed your eyes, deflating a little bit.

“Seungmin?!?”

For some unknown reason, that name made you jolt back up into your seat. ‘Seungmin’, why does that sound so familiar?!

“Well, speak of the devil!!~” He got too excited and looked at you, and gives you an over-enthused wink. You’re assuming this is the frat bro. “Your car won’t start??~~” This dude, you still don’t quite remember the name of, was really playing this up. For possibly the same unknown reason, him talking to this dude has your full attention. Normally you’d eavesdrop half-heartedly but this time your whole heart started to beat a way it never has before, begging you to soak up as much of this half conversation as possible.

“Of course I’ll drive my wittle brother!!~... -fuck off a few days totally does count!!- Whatever!! Anyway, fair warning, I became a fucking uber this morning, I’m driving this girl too so prepare yourself!!... Shhh, it’s not a joke! And she’s really hot; make sure your heart and dick are ready.”

You were about to beat this dude before you vaguely heard the muffled voice on the other line chew him out for you. You couldn’t hold in your smile before you realized; even though you were abnormally giddy, now is not the goddamn time to meet this kid. You looked like you were run over by three different military-grade vehicles and you’re more than sure you had lipstick marks from last night smeared in various places all over you. But most importantly, you were in a limbo of drunk and hungover. You needed way more rest and sustenance before you should interact with anyone of importance. You opened your mouth to scream at him but you were cut off yet again.

“...Yeah, yeah. Anyways, I’ll turn around now, just for you.~ I’m pretty sure we’re close to her dorm but who cares how late I’m gonna be for practice! I’m making shit happen! See ya in a sec, muah!” If you weren’t high key starting to panic, you would’ve laughed at this dude’s unending ridiculousness. There is no way in hell you’re gonna meet this familiar stranger‘s friend that he’s setting you up with at six fucking a.m. in a frankly disgusting state.

“Do not turn around or I swear to fucking Rupaul-“

“No can do, bro. Besides, you seemed interested in him so why not!?! Be grateful! I’m gonna have to run double the fuckin laps cuz a’ this.”

‘“Why not’?!! I just got outta’ a stranger’s bed and I’m still drunk and somehow hungover too and my dorm is just around the corner-“

“Listen; bros before hoes. Frat legacy.” And with that, he chuckled as he turned the car around for the second time today. You take back the gentleman comment you gave him earlier, he’s a pile shit.

“I’m gonna fucking jump out of the car-“ you groaned with a bluff, tugging at your smeared face and he smugly locked the doors before you could finish. “Cmonnn!~ It’s too fucking early for this shit, man! Why didn’t I just keep walking or just stayed-“

“I'm doing you a favor!~”

“Dropping me off when and where I asked you to is doing me a favor! That’s literally why I’m in your messy ass car that smells like rancid fuckin’ cheesecake in the first place!!”

“Hey, now you’re just being mean!”

You groaned and glared out the window, opting to ignore him now. This argument had you sobering up. This just really wasn’t it. You resisted the urge to pull down the mirror and see how bad you really looked but, you would rather not know how bad it is. Knowing your past morning afters, you’ve looked a hell of a lot cuter every other time.

It seems like you’re just gonna have to grin and bear it and let this one go. There’s plenty of bitches in the sea. Bitches that never made you heart skipped like this before- and without you even meeting them-

All you could think about how embarrassing and fucked up this whole thing he’s pulling is as you glare at the passing sidewalks and cars parked at the side of the roads. You wish the passing textured and crumbly neighborhood sidewalks could swallow you up. It’s not often that you felt so burdened at an awaiting social encounter these days. You hated this.

“And we’re here!!” He stops and proudly puts the car into park. “Okay, Siri, call ‘Noodle Bitchass’.”

The fuck-

-“I’m sorry. I didn’t get that. Would you like me to search the web for ‘Nude space app’?”-

“Ughhhhh. Fuck you!! I said, ‘Call~ Nooo-DiLL BiiiiTCh AAAssss’~~!!!”

-“Okay. Calling Noodle Bitchass nerd emoji, middle finger emoji in medium tan’.”- You were about to cry in shocked laughter but the guy answered too soon so you had to snort into your hand and curl in on yourself.

“Yah!! Han Jisung!!” Holy mother almighty, his voice is pure sunshine and honey. Your body slowly uncurled back up on its own. Fuck, okay it’s on speaker. Shit, I can’t even breathe, can’t make a sound.

“We’re here, man.”

“Hhhhh… she’s not still with you is she?” Is it possible to be attracted to a voice? I think I’m attracted to a voice.

“Hell yeah, she is! Suck it up, bro. You’re already making me late and she’s fine~!!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Jisung-“ Oh, good lord. Him swearing really just--

“Get in or I’ll leave you here and set her up with Innie instead.” You just heard the guy sigh and the sound of a facepalm, you’re guessing, before the line went dead. And finally. You could finally howl with laughter, or perhaps it was more like manic screaming in infatuation.

You have never, in all your years of living felt like this because of a person. Is this what it feels like to be whipped? Fuck, fuck, fuck- It’s like I’m at a concert- but not really and-

You were still in the thick of it when a door ripped open. When you reflexively looked over, all the air that was left in your lungs pathetically wheezed out of you like a sad balloon.

Then the sensations all hit you.

Wow, okay the drunkenness and hangover is gone? I feel good? I feel alive, I feel the cool late autumn air? I feel feelings; feelings I’ve never felt before? You were light as a mother fuckin’ feather and astounded as all burning hell. You were openly experiencing so many intense emotions, something that hasn’t happened in so many years.

At that moment your mouth and his gawk right open at the exact same time, not that the two of you noticed. Without any volition, your eyes immediately drown in the other. Okay, he’s actual artwork? He was dressed so cute like he was ready to take some cute aesthetic photos for a dumb little blog. Oh god, he smells like a cup of tea in the forest after it rained?! That’s so specific- but. He smells so lovely.

His hair was pure angelic fluff and his skin was a light, silky caramel. You watched before your tired, dry eyes, the caramel in his cheeks rise into the purest shade of pink and his eyes widening into adorable little saucers. When they met yours, they were sparklier than any ring on any finger; you swear to god herself, you felt electricity crackle in your veins like wood to the fire. Your eyes couldn’t pull away, you felt like a giddy little kid again. Whirling with excitement and curiosity as you looked at him all bundled up for the late fall weather. Your heart began to sing, sing triumphantly as if you broke some sort of curse-

Curse?

Wait, hold up.

Hold the fuck up.

I think he’s my soulmate?! But I can’t possibly have one-

That’s when your entire body began to heat up in question. None of this made sense to you.

How is this possible? How is this fucking possible?! The only thing your brain seems to produce in reaction is unending, spiraling questions. For each and every one of them, whether rhetorical or not, you didn’t have a sensical explanation or possible answer. This didn’t make any sense, it went against everything you ever knew to be true.

You couldn’t have a soulmate, your maternal lineage fucked that up for you, it was what you were born into without a choice. A perpetual heartbreak, something that started out as merely coincidental to grow into a family burden that carried on precariously. How can it be that for generations, the youngest daughter in the family never got to meet their soulmate until now, until you? You were on the brink of a fucking existential crisis.

Seungmin seemed shocked as well, though leagues and leagues below the ballgame you’re dealing with right now. He looked shocked; appearing delightfully surprised. Shocked as if he wasn’t expecting to be surprised with a present on a random and unimportant Wednesday, not shocked as if he just broke a generations-long family streak.

Before you can continue these heavy ass thoughts, Jisung blasts out an interruption yet again.

“I CAN’T FUCKIN’ BELIEVE THIS!! I THOUGHT I WAS JUST HOOKING UP MY BOY AT ASS CRACK IN THE MORNING!! BUT NO!! I FUCKIN’ FOUND HIM HIS SOULMATE!! AND IT’S Y/N OUTTA ALL PEOPLE!! Y/N?!? SEUNGMIN?!? THE UNIVERSE REALLY PAIRED THESE PEOPLE TOGETHER?!? OUT OF-”

“Jisung, shut the fuck up.” To your surprise, it was Seungmin who interrupts ‘Jisung’ and not you, as he gets the rest of the way into the messy car. His put-together ass looks completely out of place in this shitty car, it made you try to hold in a smile as closes the door with barely restrained enthusiasm.

Before he turns back, you force yourself to face forward and try to calm the hell down and calmly reassess the situation.

Alright... You met your not plausible-soulmate, out of all places in time and space, in the car of a kinda-stranger who offered you a ride home in the early-ass morning after getting laid at a sorority party.

Okay. Great. This is great.

You cleared your throat and tried to remain cool. “O-okay, awesome. Where ar-are we heading to first?” Okay, that wasn’t entirely cool but maybe you can blame it on literally everything else wrong with you in this situation.

“I don’t know, man. I deadass wanna just skip practice altogether and-” Jisung was interrupted by the sound of a camera’s shutter. You instinctively whip your head around towards the sound, only to be met with Seungmin camera-handed. He has the fucking nerve to take two more in the time it took for you to whip around.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!?” Your voice ripped out of you, croaking out like an enraged toad. He then takes the final picture as you’re screeching at him. This just kept getting richer and richer. First, Jisung’s bullshit, then life-altering realizations that you broke some sort of generations long streak of not having a soulmate, and now your seemingly miraculous soulmate taking unexpected, embarrassing photographs of you in the worst state you’ve ever been in?

“Taking your picture.” He grinned with a shrug, no guilt or shame to be seen nor heard. You could not hold in squawks of disbelief. His pride and excitement seemed to only grow at your bewilderment, he had the nerve to do a precious ‘hehehe’, the kind that little kids do after they steal a cookie from the jar.

“Give me that!” You sneer as you go to savagely rip it right out of his perfect hands. However, the two of you seemed to be matched in more ways than one; neither of you would budge, equally as strong as the other.

“No way! You’ll delete them!!”

“Yeah, exactly!! ‘No way in hell will I let you keep pictures of me like this!”

“‘No fuckin’ way will I let you delete them!”

You gritted your teeth. “Then let me take pictures of you!!!” And then you can sneakily delete-

“Yeah and then you’ll delete yours.” How the fuck did he know-

“Seungmin, just give her the goddamn camera so I can drive and drop your hormonal asses off before coach murders me.”

There was a raging fire in Seungmin’s eyes as he slowly and painfully let go of his forsaken camera so you could tentatively take it. Upon retrieving the camera your fingers accidentally grab unto Seungmin’s. Resulting in a little static shock zap, startling you and heating up your cheeks immediately with a jerk and a hiss. Seungmin reacted similarly, blinking like pink dust blew into his eyes to land on his cheeks. Your hand yanks it back towards you before you even realize it. Jisung was far too excited to watch this drama unfold right before his wide eyes.

If this was a normal day for you you’d jump to delete those humiliating pictures of yourself immediately, looking nothing short of the cheshire cat. But this was evidently not a normal day in any sense of the word, so, what you did was unlike you. You huffed out a breath to encourage yourself before slowly raising the camera to your dominant eye and focused the lense as best you could.

At least I can photograph how irritatingly handsome he looks at this hour.

You took the first picture, zooming in on his now grouchy, but still stupidly handsome face. Then you zoom out as far as possible, hoping to take in this entire scene in front of you, his angry posture in an adorably preppy outfit, this messy, disgusting car and how out of place he looks in it.

“Only two more.” Seungmin huffs with an eyeroll and by some divine power (perhaps the same divine power that made this odd miracle happen in the first place), you clicked fast enough to get some of that petty behavior visually documented. You pressed down twice, sadly that was your limit you agreed upon.

You didn’t even look at the pictures you took nor the ones Seungmin took so that you wouldn’t be tempted to delete them. It felt like you were committing a saintly act; as if simply taking his picture like you said you would, without deleting anything made you pure and free of sin. Perhaps this twisted reality of somehow defeating the ancestral odds had you feeling undeservingly self-righteous.

“You better not delete yours either.” You sneered once more, before jabbing the camera back into his sweatered chest. This time you were determined not to turn around again, you couldn’t risk him taking any more pictures. You also aren’t entirely sure you could handle seeing his stupid perfect face once more. This was an outrage and this was your way of protest. Also, an unspoken miracle, but enough of that.

You swiveled your head away from Jisung and Seungmin, fully leaning into the cool window and began to count the street lights and stop signs. As the grueling seconds ticked by the more concentrated you tried to be. Soon enough the concentration turned sleepy and before you knew it, you were knocked out. All your adrenaline fueled energy depleted.

All through your protest-turned-snooze, Seungmin couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of you. He couldn’t help but find it endearing how you could be an absolute riot only to pass out three minutes later. It hurt how cute he found you, no matter how scandalous you seem to be. You seemed so genuinely shocked, it made him want to cry. And he’s also fairly certain that this isn’t new to you, you not only partied all night and regularly. And judging from the markings on your skin, you might’ve done a little bit more than party last night. In fact, it might’ve even enticed him, might’ve gotten him a little hot under the collar. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that he already whipped and he hasn’t even caught your name.

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 6 years ago

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Jim Hopper / Jealous

Summary: You make Hopper jealous at the annual Hawkins’ Police Station Christmas Party

Word Count: 1,315

You felt his eyes on you.

You didn’t care.

Well, truth be told, you did, but you were doing your damnedest to make it seem like you didn’t. Instead of being glued to his side, talking to him about this, that, or the other, you were chatting up one of the deputies, who was only all too glad to hang off every last word that came of your ruby-red painted lips. All eyes were on you when you entered the police station’s annual non-denominational Christmas party in that little black number of yours, and you wondered why you had waited this long to do that. Oh yeah, something about having people like you for you, rather than what you wear.

Something like that.

Right now, you couldn’t care less about your morals, but only about how his eyes follow you around the room, speaking to every other person, except him.

You knew he was angry.

You could see it, despite his not-so-best efforts to hide it. The drinking didn’t help. You spied him, out of the corner of your eye, knocking back another glass. It certainly didn’t. His brow was dark, brooding as usual, but there was something else there - something that sent shivers up your spine you glanced past him. His arms were crossed, sleeves conveniently rolled up to showcase his hairy, large forearms which told you he was a real man - unlike the boys you were talking to right now.

“You’re really playin’ with fire, Y/N,” Florence told you by the buffet table they had put out. Stale chips and donuts, flat soda, and cold, potluck dinner dishes you didn’t care to eat, “Why don’t you just come out and ask him out?”

“Not that it’s your business, Florence, but I have, and he’s insisted that we’re just friends,” you shrugged, taking a plate and placing a single frosted donut on it, “I don’t wanna spend all my time waiting on him, so I decided I wouldn’t.”

“And the dress?” your lips pulled into a wicked smile, peering at him from over your shoulder without a hint of acknowledgement, as you licked some frosting from your fingers.

“Just a small bit of revenge,” you frowned when your arm came away with frosting, scanning for napkins, “Ugh, no napkins.” you placed the donut down, “I’ll get some from the back.”

Of course that would require you to pass the chief himself and you did without even a “hello.” You weren’t there to say hello, or to be at his side, you were there to enjoy the party, and you didn’t need him to do that - though right now, you needed napkins.

You moved a few boxes, around, “Got so many damn bullets back here, and yet, no napkins,” you grumbled, until finally you opened the box, “finally!” You were about to grab a few when the door opened behind you, “Florence, I found them, I-”

You blinked, and found that it wasn’t Florence, “Deputy,” you gave a small smile, you couldn’t remember his name, “Looking for something?” You grabbed a fistful of napkins, trying to sidestep him, but he only grinned.

“Looking for you,” his voice was scratchy, sending a chill down your spine.

“Well, I was looking for napkins, so how about you let me out?” he advanced forward, until your back hit the cool metal racks behind you.

“But the fun’s just beginning,” you tried to push past him, but he only pinned you to the rack, arm against your throat, his breath disgustingly warm against your cheek, “Isn’t it?”

You felt horror wash over you, gasping, wanting to cry out, but no words left your throat. You tried to kick him, but he only pressed his own weight into yours. You squeezed your eyes shut.

Then he crumpled, arms falling slack, as he fell into a pile on the ground. You blinked back tears, as Hopper stared back at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the closet, behind him. The deputy groaned at his feet, as Hopper grabbed him by his collar, dragging him up and pinning him against the rack just as he did to you. And he punched him. Again. And again. And again. Until the side of the man’s face begins to take on a distinct purplish-red hue.

You finally grabbed his arm, shaking your head, “Stop, please,” he pulled back again, a deep growl in his throat, “Jim, come on.”

“Your ass is fired. I’m throwing you in jail tomorrow. Tonight, I’ll be sure to phone your wife. See what she has to say about this.” He threw him on the ground, shutting the door behind him, twisting a lock in place.

Without another word, he turned to you, and god, the look he gives you turns your legs to jelly. You don’t remember how you follow him out of the party, only the tight, heavy tug of his large hand around your wrist. You glance back to see none of the patrons of the party didn’t dare to pay either of you mind, only Florence lifting a knowing cup up to you, before Hopper pulled you through the front doors.

The cool, crisp air hits your face, and the trance is broken - you realize where you are and what had happened, “Hopper.” He doesn’t respond, only opening the door to his truck for you, and entering the driver’s seat, “Hopper, where are we going?”

“Just,” he gives a heavy sigh, “just get in.’

The drive is silent, as heavy as his sigh that was the last sound either of you dared. You kept your eyes out of the window, knowing that looking at him would be nothing but trouble. And that’s what Jim Hopper was for you, wasn’t he? You leaned against your elbow, adjusting the silt of your dress, and you felt him look over for the first time. You felt his eyes linger on your bare skin, before shifting back to the road, and you wanted to ask him - ask him if he liked the dress, or would he like it better on the floor of his truck.

But you didn’t.

You kept quiet, and he pulled up in front of your driveway. The soft click of the seatbelt, as it releases, and you move to leave, when he locks the door. You turn to him, aghast, and in a moment, his lips claim yours.

There is nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s territorial. It’s desperate. It’s hungry.

“You just had to wear that goddamn dress, didn’t you?” he growls against your lips, teeth grazing your bottom lip not-so-gently at all, and you gasp, “Had to get everyone’s fucking attention.”

“I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I-” the last word is high-pitched, as he moves his seat back to draw you into his lap, large hand on either side of your waist. His stubble scratched your neck as he laid waste to your collarbone, tugging on the straps of the dress.

“You already had my fuckin’ attention,” he hums darkly, “just didn’t want to do it this way.”

“What way? On the seat of your car?” you tease, whining when he chooses that moment to throw open the door of the car, “Hopper!” you squeal, clinging to him, as he shuts his door and carries you up the driveway. You fumble with your keys, as he wrenches it from your hands, and unlocks it, even as you fingers are busy unbuttoning the tops of his uniform. And he carries you in, pinning you to the shut door, and his next kiss steals your breath, all tongue and teeth, as he grins against you, your chest heaving.

“Didn’t want to do it when I was jealous,” he shrugged off his shirt, then deftly slipping the straps from your shoulders, “but it’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?”

#jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #james hopper #jim hopper imagines #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #jim hopper x you #hopper imagines #hopper fanfiction #jim hopper imagine #st fanfiction #no spoilers

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galahadwilder · 6 years ago

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Officiated, Ch. 8

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Officiated Archive

AO3

As many of you noticed, when I started writing this they weren't originally going to be 18. And then I looked up France's marriage laws.

I know the ages/timelines in this don't work so please just... ignore that, because the story is way less funny if I try to go back and make those logistics make sense.

Thanks!

She can't help reveling a bit in the way he looks at her. He's absolutely stunned, and for the first time she can see him without his guard up, without the carefully-crafted walls Adrien and Chat Noir erect to hide how fragile, how vulnerable, they really are, and her heart aches for him, for her silly, flirty, dorky partner who was kind to her on the days she needed it most. There's no tension in his muscles whatsoever; if she poked him, she's certain he'd collapse into a puddle of boneless jelly. And he's doing that fish-face thing she's sometimes seen Kim do when he's taken by surprise, his mouth open just a little, like he can't really open it all the way but he can't quite muster the brainpower to close it either.

"That..." he says, finally. He blinks, rapid-fire, and she can see the effort it takes him to tear his eyes from her, to twist his neck to look at the cake. "That's your flower," he says. "Your... that's your signature rose."

"Yep!" Marinette chirps, much louder than she anticipated, and immediately flushes bright red as it echoes through the cavernous room, slapping her hand over her mouth and sinking into the chair with the "farting" sound of leather against skin.

"I—don't understand," Adrien says, staring at the box. At the cake. "This is—that's Chat Noir's colors, that's his—" He points. "But... those are my initials?"

Marinette removes the hand from her mouth, slowly, blinks. "Wait, I—?" Oh, seriously? "Chaton. I know."

He spins around to stare at her with wide eyes, overbalances a bit, and staggers into the chair. She barely catches him, her hand sliding on ladybug-print flannel.

"It's—it's you," he sobs, gripping the straps of her camisole and burying his face in her sternum. (It's mildly uncomfortable because his nasal bridge is right on the bone, and she wishes he would move his head a little lower to where there's some more cushioning, but she's not going to suggest that lest they both spontaneously combust.) "It's—it's—" He jerks back, his eyes zipping upward. "Did you just," he says, measuring his words carefully in the way she knows Chat does when he's struggling to remain verbal, "just propose to me... with a meme?"

"Um... no?" she squeaks.

His face falls. She can see tears gathering at the edges of his eyes, and she realizes how what she said must sound, and immediately her brain jumps tracks trying to backtrack.

"Because—!" Her arms start shaking, as she tries not to flail them at the boy currently in her arms, tries to not accidentally slap him in the face. "We're—we're already married, right?" She squeezes his shoulders, trying to keep in the nervous energy. "Can't exactly be a proposal!" Her voice feels shrill and awkward, and she wants to collapse as soon as she hears herself, but, well—she's caught between the chair and her oh my gods I have a husband.

Adrien goes limp, sliding downward out of her arms. She scrabbles after him, trying to hold him up, but... well, Adrien may be underfed, but he's still got about a fifth of a meter on her, and while she can sling Chat Noir across the Seine from a standing start she's working with normal human muscles at the moment. She's yanked out of the chair and onto the ground, flopping on top of him.

She shouldn't have put on her pajamas before she came. She thought it would help her with her nerves, make her more comfortable, but instead she's only too aware of how little clothing is between her and her husband right now. And she's right on top of him. If he weren't shaking like a computer with a busted fan she'd be positively exploding at how intimate this position is.

"Wow. You two are morons."

Marinette gasps as she realizes that someone else is in the room, and looks up to see a familiar tiny black shape, though she’s only seen it around seven times before. “Plagg?”

”You expected Xuppu?” Plagg cackles.

"Plagg! Don't mock them!" Tikki hisses from her place inside Marinette’s pigtail. “This is very stressful for them both!”

”And if we don’t give them a kick in the rear neither of them will move past the ‘uh? Buh? Guh?’ stage,” Plagg responds, settling in top of Marinette’s head. “I’ve seen how bad your girl is at talking to him.”

”I’m getting better!” Marinette protests.

Plagg’s weight shifts on her scalp in a way that suggests he’s rolling his disproportionate eyes. “You’ve been ‘getting better’ for years now.”

”Shut up, Plagg,” Adrien says, and Marinette suddenly realizes that he’s stopped shaking—and that she’s now once more very aware of how she’s lying on top of him.

”H-hi!” she squeaks, trying to roll off him. “Feeling—feeling better?”

”A bit,” he says, with a smile that’s—well, it’s too “Adrien” and not enough “Chat Noir.” Or maybe it’s too Chat Noir and not enough Adrien. Either way it doesn’t seem genuine. “Sorry about—” He glances down, as if finally realizing that he’s holding her on top of him. “Oh!”

He releases her wrists and she launches herself sideways, flopping onto the tile carpet next to him. “Sorry,” she gasps. “That’s—easier in the suits.” She looks at him, holds a hand out to touch his shoulder, thinks better of it. “You know. Touching—touching you.”

“...Ah.” Adrien sits up, and she can’t miss the way the disappointment is written across on his face.

She steels herself, reaches out, places her hand on his foot. It’s the most intimate thing she can do right now without exploding.

He flinches anyway.

”What’s wrong, Kitten?” she says.

”Do you—” His voice breaks, and he looks away. “How’d you find out it was me?”

She blinks, sitting up. He’s very clearly dodging the question. “Alya saw the license,” she says. “And since she didn’t realize it was for Chat and Ladybug, not Marinette and Adrien...”

”She could read both our names,” he finishes. He’s trembling. Again.

”Chaton,” she says. “Either tell me what’s wrong or I will chuck you out the window.”

He freezes, then turns to her with wide, sad eyes. “It’s—nothing,” he says. “I can deal.”

”It’s not nothing,” she shoots back. “I know you’re not disappointed in me because you’ve suspected...” She pushes back her hair, showing the earrings. “You’ve suspected my identity multiple times,” she continues, “and you always looked like you’d... you know, got the cream when you thought it was me...” She clenches her hands, twiddling her thumbs. “I just—I can’t think of what else it could be.”

”It’s not your problem,” he says, gruffly.

”Of course it’s my problem,” she says, reaching out to take his wrist. “I’m your...” She swallows. “I’m your wife.”

He jerks like a gunshot at the word and yanks his hand out of hers. “Not for much longer,” he gasps, and then he’s collapsing into himself, his head falling into his hands falling into his lap, and oh. Oh.

”You thought the cake was sarcasm,” she says, softly, as all the pieces slot into place in her brain like a Lucky Charm. "You think—you think I still want the annulment."

"Don't you?" he whispers.

She swallows, walks her hand up his leg. “Why would I?” she says, feigning more comfort than she’s feeling.

Adrien stiffens, looking at her with shock in his eyes. ”Because... you never wanted me,” he says. “There’s always been someone else.”

Marinette giggles nervously. ”Do you know,” she begins, only to choke on her dry mouth. “Do you know how hard it was to avoid falling in love with Chat Noir?”

He gapes at her.

She entwines her fingers in his. “Yeah, there was someone else at first,” she says, not meeting his eyes. “But... but he didn’t know me like you do. I never trusted him the way I trust you. He could never... make me feel proud, the way you do.” She smiles, tears gathering in her eyes. “I think over time, I just... I kept chasing him so that it wouldn’t hurt so much when I kept losing you.”

”You've never lost me,” Adrien whispers, his thumb gently tracing her palm.

She swallows. “You died just last week, Chaton,” she says. “I lose you all the time and I can’t—” She hiccups. “I can’t stand it.”

He lets go of her hand, and she can’t stop herself from whining at his sudden absence, but then his hands are pressed to her cheeks and he’s holding her gaze to his own. “My Lady,” he says. “I will always come back to you.”

The utter conviction in his voice rocks her to her core. He’s not saying that she’ll bring him back—he’s saying that, even if she can’t, he will tear down heaven to make it back to her side.

”The—the other boy,” she gasps. “His name was Adrien Agreste.”

Emerald eyes stare into hers, uncomprehending—and then his breath is in her mouth, mixed with the fire of her life, of his life, and it’s exactly like Dark Cupid, hot and desperate and painful and real.

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Officiated Archive

#miraculous ladybug #officiated #original content #my fic #marinette dupain cheng #Adrien agreste #identity reveal confirmation #identity reveal #tikki #plagg #post reveal pre relationship #crack #fluff #angst #accidental marriage #adrienette #adrinette

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spn-ficfanatic · 6 years ago

Text

F*ck Cancer- Ch 7: The Good With The Bad

SERIES MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER THREE - CHAPTER FOUR - CHAPTER FIVE - CHAPTER SIX - CHAPTER EIGHT (coming soon)

Summary: Life has a funny way of balancing things out. Massive highs one minute, massive lows the next...

Genre: Angst, fluff

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean x Platonic!Reader*, Bobby x Platonic!Reader *For the Dean ladies/lads: it may not be romantic between him and the reader, but it’s a very close brotherly/sisterly relationship and I still think y’all will really enjoy it :)

Words: 2756

Warnings: At least one f-bomb. Nothing else I can think of though.

A/N: This is the second to last chapter guys, we’re nearing the end game. If you love the story but haven’t shared this with me, now’s the time ;) Part 8 is ready to go, I will post it in the next day or two.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The smell of freshly ground coffee grinds woke you from your slumber, and you stretched your body across the king mattress once you realised Sam had vacated his spot next to you. The sunshine was only just peeking through the thick blinds in the hotel room, and a glance at the clock showed it was just after 7am. You tested your legs, rolling your ankles around first and then trying to lift them. Weak, but usable you hoped. The real test would be putting weight on them of course, though you were certain Sam would come in any moment with your coffee.

And sure enough he joined you moments later, the paper under his arm and a couple of biscuits in his mouth while he carried the coffees to the bed. You grinned broadly when you saw him, and he too smiled in response.

��Hey my princess,” he greeted you, setting the coffee and biscuits down before leaning over to kiss you.

“Lame,” you told him with a wink. “I loved it.”

He laughed and sat down next to you, pulling you into his chest and embracing you as he laid you both back onto the pillows.

“How’s the legs this morning?” he asked, trying not to sound too disheartened.

“OK I think,” you shrugged. “I have a bit more movement than yesterday so that’s good. Maybe sex is the cure?”

“Ha,” Sam huffed. “Maybe we should call your doctor, suggest they do some studies.”

“Dean would volunteer for the trials, no question.”

You both laughed, and Sam handed your coffee and biscuit over while he opened the paper.

“So Dean and Bobby are going to join us for breakfast if that’s ok.” Sam said. “The buffet downstairs is supposed to be amazing.”

“Sounds awesome,” you told him with a grin, already excited to have all your boys together again even if it had only been 12hrs since you’d been apart. You knew that soon you’d be saying goodbye to Bobby, and you knew in your heart that it would be for the last time. So anytime you could spend with him was not worth wasting.

Soon enough you were both dressed and ready to head down. While you had been capable of showering yourself, Sam of course insisted it would be safer to do so together. Walking was significantly easier than the day before, but you still needed to let Sam take some of your weight. Which felt ridiculous given how much weight you’d lost in the last few months. You found yourself wondering more than once how skin and bone could be so damn heavy.

You stepped into the elevator with Sam, arm in arm, and as the doors closed a woman called out from the hallway. You quickly hit the ‘open’ button just in time and she darted in, letting the doors close on their own.

“Thank you so much,” she told you, and gave you a smile.

Sam’s grip on you tightened, and you felt your heart rate increase ten-fold. Your legs started to feel like jelly again but for an entirely different reason than the rock in your brain.

“N-no problem Ms. Lawrence,” you stammered, staring wide eyed at Sam as you both shared your shock at the fact you were sharing an elevator with Jennifer Lawrence.

“Oh you’re so sweet,” she told you. “You can call me Jennifer. What’s your name?”

You tried to muster up the confidence to speak again but your mouth suddenly felt dry, and Sam jumped in.

“I’m Sam, and this is my new wife Y/N,” he told her. “Sorry, she’s a little overwhelmed to meet you I think, she’s a big fan.”

“Oh sweety,” she giggled, giving you a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around her and laughed in disbelief. “Congratulations, you two are an adorable couple.”

“You’ll have to forgive us, it’s just that we’ve been working through my wife’s bucket list and you’re-”

You pulled away from her blushing, and kicked him on the ankle. “Sam don’t…”

“No wait, you’re- are you ill?” Jennifer asked you with a frown.

You nodded with a sigh. “Shit, yer, I’m sorry, he shouldn’t have told you. I er- I have a few weeks left, and meeting you happens to be on my list of things to do. It’s kinda wild that this is happening right now to be honest.”

“No no, it’s fine. Can I- well, would you like a picture perhaps? Do you have a camera with you? It’s the least I could do,” she asked you with wide eyes, obviously keen to do something for you.

“We would be so grateful, thank you,” Sam answered, linking his arm back through yours and squeezing your hand. “My brother and uncle will be waiting downstairs, maybe they could take it for us.”

“Sounds perfect,” she replied with a wide smile.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, and stepping off you immediately spotted Dean and Bobby waiting the entrance. You called out, and as Dean turned his eyes fell onto Jennifer and practically burst out of his head. Sam guided you over to them with her in tow, and you smiled broadly at Dean as his eyes quietly begged you for an explanation.

“Hi, h-hello,” he stammered as you approached, holding out his hand to shake Jennifer’s which she did without hesitation. “Wow this is, wow. You’re here, in this hotel. With my brother and Y/N. Well, not with them obviously but-”

“DEAN! Sweety,” you interrupted quickly. “Would you like to be in a photo with us? Bobby could take the picture I’m sure.”

You knew how much Dean liked her, so his expression when you asked him to be in it was more than you could have ever hoped for. This photo wasn’t for you, you’d get to see it for all of a few weeks. You wanted Dean and Sam to share this memory though, and you fully intended to have it blown up and framed before you died.

Everyone shuffled in together, Dean on one side of Jennifer and you on the other, Sam standing behind you with his arms wrapped around you protectively. Jennifer took your hand and gave it a squeeze and you gave her a warm smile back.

“Thank you so much for this,” you whispered to her while Bobby got himself ready. “I’m sure you have a million other things to be doing.”

“Nothing is more important than this moment,” she told you reassuringly. “I don’t know how much time you have left, but I hope you and Sam have the best time of your lives. I’m so grateful we could meet today.”

You felt your eyes mist over and you nodded, both of you breaking the gaze to look at Bobby who took a few dozen shots just to be safe. You were sure one of them at least would be usable. He continued to photograph you all as you bid her farewell and exchanged hugs, and as she was guided out of the hotel by her handler she gave you one final wave before stepping into a waiting car.

Once you were sure she was out of sight and earshot you let out a loud ‘whoop’, with Sam and Dean closely following.

“What the hell just happened?” you asked them, and Sam lifted you in the air and spun you around.

“That was incredible!” he replied, giving you a kiss before planting your feet back on the ground and wrapping his arm around you.

“Tell me you got some good shots Bobby,” Dean begged and he went over to him and took the phone to inspect them.

“I know how to work a camera ya idjit.” Bobby grumbled, but gave you a smirk and a wink.

You laughed at the absurdity of what just transpired, and as you cuddled into Sam you hoped this would be a moment that would bring him comfort in the coming weeks.

--------------------

Things did progress quite quickly after the wedding. You’d apparently just had a massive stroke of luck on Day 1 of wedded bliss, but from Day 2 things started to go downhill.

You came to rely on a second person to take some of your weight when you walked, mostly that was Sam but Dean stepped in plenty as well. When he realised what was happening Bobby wanted to stay too, but you insisted he get back to work. You told him you couldn’t live with yourself (pun intended) if a hunter fell into trouble because you had been hogging him. Saying goodbye to him was the hardest thing you’d ever had to do, even he shed a few tears.

Day 5 was when you gave in and suggested a wheelchair. Sam and Dean were reluctant to do it, to them it was an admission of the end, but you managed to convince them. You didn’t tell them but your headaches were becoming much too painful to continue to try and walk anyway. The constant up and down when being picked up and put down was the worst, and the time Dean accidentally bumped your head into the door frame didn’t help either.

Sam wanted to die too the day you woke up screaming.

“What the fuck?” you cried, pulling the sheets over your bare chest as you scrambled to get away from him, pushing your body against the wall as far as you could go.

In his startled state he yelped and rolled off the bed, hitting the floor with a loud thud, before sitting up and staring at you in horror.

“Y/N, it’s o-”

“Sam? What the hell man? WHY are you in my bed?! Did we get drunk? Oh my god, my Dad will KILL me! John will kill YOU! We’re DEAD!”

“You-You’re dad? John?” Sam asked weakly, looking at you dejectedly before sighing and running his hand through his hair.

You were about to answer when you heard footsteps in the hallway, and you looked up in time to see a disheveled Dean burst through the door. You yelled out, scrambling to make sure you were appropriately covered by the bed sheet.

“Dean, get out,” Sam told him firmly and loudly, scrambling to stand up to close the door in the older brother’s face.

“What’s going on Sammy?” he called gruffly through the door, banging his fist.

“It’s fine, I’ll deal with it, sorry,” he called back, and you watched his shadow disappeared from under the door before bringing your teary eyes up to Sam’s.

“What’s going on? WHY are we in bed together naked?” you whispered, tears starting to run down your cheeks as a small sob escaped your lips.

Sam sighed again, and came forward to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re not well Y/N, and having some trouble with your memory. Here.”

He reached over to the bedside table and unlocked his phone, opening up some photos before passing it to you. You watched him carefully as you took the phone from his hands, but before you could see what was on the screen your eyes widened.

“Jesus, what sort of phone is this?” you asked in wonder, turning it over in your hands. “It’s like a mini TV!”

“Just… look at the screen.”

You gasped when you finally did, seeing yourself in a white dress next to Sam in his fed suit. You had a ring on your finger you noticed, and as you looked down to your finger you dropped the phone in shock.

“No no no no no,” you chanted in disbelief. “Sam?”

“It’s OK, I promise,” he leaned forward to rest his hand on yours, and was grateful when you didn’t pull away.

“How are we married? And you look, I mean your hair is… you look older.”

You looked around the room slowly, suddenly realising you weren’t in a skeezy motel as per usual. “Where are we?”

“Our home, we live here with Dean,” Sam told you patiently, hoping that something would soon jog your memory like the time you forgot the beach trip.

“Dean lives with us?” you asked with a disbelieving eyebrow raise. “You want me to believe this is real life and you tell me that Dean lives with us?”

“How old do you think you are?” he queried.

“20, I just turned 20,” you replied with a shrug, unsure why it mattered.

“Wow, ok,” Sam puffed out a breath, figuring out his next move. He didn’t want to scare you, but at the same time this was going on longer than he would have expected and he was desperate to get you back.

“What? Sam, you better start talking or so help me GOD-”

“You’re in your 30’s Y/N,” he cut you off. He studied your face, your expression hard, and when you didn’t interrupt he continued. “About a year ago you started to get headaches, really bad ones, and you went to the doctor. They found a tumour, right about here,” he placed his pointer finger on your scalp, just above your left ear. “Among other things, it’s affecting your memory. Dean lives here with us to help with paying the bills and look out for you.”

You continued to stare at him, then looked at your hand. Your golden band stared back at you, and you shut your eyes tight before pinching the bridge of your nose.

“And this?” you asked, not opening your eyes nor moving anything other than lifting your left hand to gesture your ring.

“We’ve, well... we’ve been through a lot over the last 2 decades.”

You nodded with a hum, squinting your eyes harder as your head started to hurt.

“You OK?”

“Not really,” you replied honestly. “Christ, does my head always hurt like this?”

He frowned, you’d not complained before but then again he noticed that you had a tendency to downplay your symptoms. “Sometimes. What would you rate it?”

“An 8, maybe.”

Sam nodded, and leaned over to grab his pants. You looked at him alarmed and before you could ask he explained. “It’s ok, I’m just going to get you your pain killers. I’ll be right back, promise.”

You nodded meekly, and lay back on the mattress slowly as Sam opened the door and closed it quietly behind him.

“She alright?” Dean asked, causing Sam to jump back and hit the wall with a gasp. He glared at his brother with his hand held over his racing heart.

“Jesus man, next time cough or something,” he scolded.

“Sammy,” Dean replied in a warning tone, and followed Sam as he went to the kitchen.

“She can’t remember anything, she thinks she’s 20,” Sam explained as he reached up for a glass and filled it with water at the tap.

“Right so, what, her dad is still alive, you two aren’t bumping uglies yet and I’m-”

“A horn-dog, yes.”

“Hey!”

“What?” he replied with a smirk. “That’s what she thinks! Didn’t believe me when I told her you lived with us. Besides, you’ve mellowed out a lot since our 20s.”

Dean narrowed his eyes and glared at his brother, but relented when he realised he was too tired to fight. He watched in silence as Sam made you a tea, and gave a small wave when he bid him goodnight before returning to you. This time he decided not to listen at your door, and headed to bed instead.

As Sam walked back into your room you stirred, and he sat your water on the bedside table.

“Wake up bab- Y/N,” he corrected himself. “I have your pain pills.”

You opened your eyes and gave him a warm smile, rolling over to expose your chest. You didn’t race to cover up like you did last time. “Hey sweety, pain pills?”

He looked at you carefully, fear no longer in your eyes and an obvious confidence to show yourself naked around him.

��How old are you Y/N?” he asked, not wanting to get his hopes up.

“Huh? You know this, I’m 32.”

Sam rushed forward and enveloped you in a tight hug, when he finally let his tears fall. He let out a sob and you held him tighter, alarmed.

“Wow, hey, it’s ok Sam. Did you have a nightmare?”

He didn’t answer, and only pulled back to kiss you desperately on the lips. You returned it, and instead of waiting for an explanation you simply let him lay you back onto the mattress in his arms.

CONT.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

SERIES MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER THREE - CHAPTER FOUR - CHAPTER FIVE - CHAPTER SIX - CHAPTER EIGHT

MY MASTERLIST

Tag Lists (Open)

Series Taglist: @deghostyboi , @dreaminemz , @spence-rreid, @almostelegantfire , @ericaprice2008 @mirandaaustin93, @sandlee44

“Dean/Jensen” taglist: @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk, @perpetualabsurdity, @mlovesstories

“Everything” taglist: @angelsandwinchesters, @grace-for-sale, @growningupgeek, @iamnotsaneatall, @nanie5, @waywardasfudge, @im-dead-inside05, @julzdec, @adoptdontshoppets, @meghanbeinghappy, @sleepylunarwolf , @sammysgirl1997, @imaginationisgrowth, @screechingartisancashbailiff , @flamencodiva

People who requested tags, that I cannot tag (but will still mention because I feel bad :( ): @ronja-uebrick, @lilydarcy, @cabbagewithissues

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