#all of this art and love y'all are sending me has actually lifted my mood from 0 to 100

[hime-bee]

i read that you haven't been feeling the best a few days ago so please accept this tooth-rotting luc + a picture of my stinky cat.... (we all need luc in these trying times </3 /hj)

My mood has gotten so much better, and I can only thank the people around me wishing me well and just all the love I've received 😭💙 Thank you so much for always being here, sending interest asks, and drawing such amazing art for my OC's, Lacie, seriously!! If I could hug you, I would rn omg 💖💘💞

YOUR STINKY LITTLE CAT IS ADORABLE!! GIVE THEM LOADS OF KISSES AND HUGS FOR ME, PLEASEEE 🥺

[tanyawritesstories]

Must Be the Whiskey | Jack Daniels x Reader

I got inspiration to write this from listening to a song of the same name. Though the lyrics had nothing to do with the idea I came up with 😂 a thank you to @scribbledghost for letting me tag them. I hope y'all enjoy! 🤠

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff, dramatics, insinuations of sex, domesticity, light chaos

•••

“I cannot believe you did that!”

Jack was angry again. You had been joking but apparently he had taken it seriously.

“Hun, it’s not that big of a deal,” you said, still finding it funny, “It was just a joke.”

Jack took off his hat and tossed it on the nightstand next to your shared bed. “Well it wasn’t funny to me,” he argued. You made your way into the bathroom and began taking your makeup off. “You don’t flirt with another man while I’m sitting right next to you!”

You laughed, “Babe, I was not flirting you know that. I just wanted to try it.” You knew he wasn’t really mad, just annoyed and most likely he just wanted to fight with you.

“Well ya shouldn’t ‘ave, sugar. Now you got your old man riled up,” he replied. Jack ditched his jacket and his shoes, running his hands through his hair.

You giggled and stepped out of the bathroom, finding your fiance sitting on the end of the bed. “I can think of something to do with all that energy,” you hinted suggestively.

He pouted and looked at his lap. “I ain't in the mood.” You had to resist laughing at this grown man acting like a child over something so simple and innocent.

You kneeled in front of him and tilted his head up so his eyes met yours. "Jack, baby, it was only a drink."

"Yeah but it was the wrong drink, you should've gotten your usual, and you know it," he continued to pout. You smiled sympathetically, "I will from now on, I promise. Jim has got nothin' on you, cowboy."

Yes, Jack was angry because you had decided to get a Jim Beam instead of your usual Jack Daniels whiskey, at the bar. Ever since you met him three years ago, you hadn't drank any other whiskey except his namesake. You didn't know he would promptly flip his lid when you decided to try a different kind tonight. You were sure he was acting or playing up his anger for show. He was a very dramatic man. You realized just how much when he accused your liquid betrayal of being akin to unfaithfulness.

He sighed. "I just want you to know you hurt me, darlin'. Don't break a man's ego like that again, ya hear?" He smiled and booped your nose.

"Yes, sir," you winked. "Now, do I have to satisfy myself or do you still have all that energy?"

A devilish smirk came to his face and he hoisted you up to straddle his lap before falling backwards so you landed on his chest.

"Oof, yep, you still got the energy," you concluded. Jack kissed you like it was the last time he ever would, full of heat and passion. A kiss that was so very Jack.

"I love you, sweet pea. And I plan on showin' you just how much," he drawled. You giggled. It was going to be a long and delightfully tiring night.

~~~~

Jack woke up still feeling worn out. That's the price he paid for a good time with his lady. But it was worth it every time.

He begrudgingly lifted himself out of the comfy bed, sliding some sweatpants onto his bare body. He could hear you humming from the kitchen. Your mumbled melodies accompanied the smell of bacon and coffee, his favorites. He made his way into the kitchen, forgoing a shirt.

He found you exactly how he expected. You were standing at the stove stirring eggs in a pan, bacon was sizzling away on a different burner, and coffee was brewing on the other end of the counter. He watched you for a while, his eyes wandering up and down your body. You were wearing shorts and one of his shirts that was much too big on you. He approached quietly, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Morning, dear,” you greeted. You could barely hear his mumbled reply into your skin. “You hungry?” Jack nuzzled into your neck. “I don’t know, I had quite the feast last night, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a second helping,” he teased, nipping your neck and giving your ass a light squeeze. You giggled and tried to push his hands away from tickling you.

Jack loved hearing you laugh, it was one of his favorite sounds. He loved waking up to find you making him breakfast. There was something so domestic and peaceful about it. Sometimes he would sit and watch you, he found it fascinating how you could throw a few ingredients together and mold it into something completely different and delicious. He never got tired of watching you cook and bake. The only times he missed it was when you were called into work early or he left before you woke up. He smiled fondly at the memory of buying you an apron that said ‘kitchen wizard’ on it in big red letters, you always wore it when baking. Jack compared your baking to a form of art as complex and stunning as the canvas paintings you had strewn around the house.

You both worked at a reasonable time and were able to have breakfast together, chatting about the day's events and generally anything that came to mind. You and Jack parted ways with a kiss, Jack heading off to Statesman and you heading off to your day job.

~~~~

Jack got home before you and had been relaxing when he received a text from you asking him to come out into the driveway. He was confused but complied. He found you getting the groceries out of the trunk of your car.

“You need help there, sugar?” He asked.

“No. But I must prove something to you, Jack,” you said dramatically. Oh no. Jack knew that tone of voice, it was usually used to either tease him or make yourself sound like a dramatic theatre actor. In conclusion, it was never good, but always humorous, when you used that voice. “I have purchased something to prove to you how much I love you in a broad demonstration of questionable intellect,” you preached. Jack smiled and laughed. “What did you get, sweet pea. More lingerie? Because I haven’t gotten tired of the last set, ya know.”

“It’s worse,” you said. You reached into one of the bags and pulled out a bottle of Jim Beam whiskey. Holding it above your head, you took a few steps away from your car, standing not far away from Jack. “What are you doing with that?” He asked, only a little bit irked. “Allow me to demonstrate my love for you,” you announced, putting your other hand over your heart. At that, you released your grip on the bottle, sending it into the concrete with a loud smash, glass and liquor going everywhere.

Jack’s mouth dropped open. He wasn’t expecting you to do that. “Honey, what-”

“My love for you is no joke, Jack Daniels. I will love you till my dying day and will smash as many more bottles of that fowl name as I need to, should you ever doubt me.” You stood watching him, his reaction was funnier than you thought it would be, it had taken every ounce of self control in you to keep a straight face. You could feel your jeans were wet with alcohol and some bits of glass had caught in the bottom.

Jack sauntered over to you. “Darlin’, honey, sweet pea, love of my life,” he cupped your face in his hands, “Do you realize you just smashed a thirty dollar bottle of whiskey in our driveway?” You nodded, sincerity in your eyes. “Yes, I do realize. I wanted to prove to you that you are superior to anyone and everyone else, and I love you,” you beamed up at him. “You are truly somethin’ else,” he said, his smile warm and loving as he kissed your forehead. “Let’s clean this up and then have dinner.”

You helped Jack clean up the mess, sweeping the glass shards into a dustpan and washing away the liquid with a bucket of water. You made sure there was no more glass as you didn’t want any of it to get caught in the car tires. He helped you carry the groceries into the house and unpack them.

“I also got us actual drinks,” you said. Jack turned to see you holding a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and a bottle of Statesman in the other. “How much did you spend on whiskey tonight, angel?” He asked, amused. “Only about eighty bucks,” you answered. Jack once again took his time walking over to you, “Sometimes I think you’re worse than me.” You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You have to think about that? I thought it was obvious,” you sassed. “Well alright, little missy, do I have to teach you not to speak out of turn again tonight or are we going to have dinner,” Jack sassed right back. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m quite hungry,” you giggled. “No time to lose then, sunshine. Let’s get cookin’.”