#Jack Quaid imagine

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Six: Lover's Games

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: You feel a need to follow up with Ernest Lawrence, much to Robert's dismay, and also uncover buried information that makes you turn rather rebellious.

Word Count: ~7,592

Warnings: Martial angst, infidelity, age gap, unwanted advances, slight physical violence, period stereotypical gender roles, clothed sex, some orgasm denial and sexual humiliation

Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy. It is essentially very much a dramatization and AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer, Josh Hartnett as Ernest Lawrence, Jack Quaid as Richard Feynman, etc. from the film only while other characters are my own entirely made up ones!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman, @uniquetacofun, @noirrose21-blog, @gridmouse86, @lacontroller1991, @kishie8, @anime-lover-forever-1127

If you'd like to be added to the list, let me know please.

June 1943

You waited a couple of weeks after the party to move past the point of just taking actual action only in consideration in the sense of springing a scheme by meeting up with Lawrence, keeping Robert under the radar all the while and he himself was certainly distant, (distracted by work of course) but also deliberately choosing to give you space. It was fine, but it made you uneasy of how much he was extracting his emotions and you were starting to feel as if you were on a carpet of thin eggshells every moment you and him were alone together, which was usually only at night sleeping in the same bed.

Weekday dinners were a polite affair as well and you mostly ate for yourself, him eating a portion of his plate before he went to shut himself in his designated office room and came to bed hours into the wee morning. He was gone longer now during the day and one early evening, you found yourself cleaning the house alone with no company or pressing responsibilities to attend to, and you went into his office, rearranging his paperwork and dusting the bookshelves when you decided to take a peek into his desk, knowing he kept many personal writings there. Perhaps a poem or musing that could give an indication of what was happening inside his brain and why you were hitting a cold patch in the marriage.

After sifting through many documents, discarded calculations, and correspondence letters, you finally found his dearest belongings buried in the bottom drawer. You knew several of these, for they were cards - birthday, anniversary, well-wishers from the wedding - and some of your own (love poems, really) that you had exchanged with him and even simple notes of wanting to meet for dinner, a party, vacation at his Perro Caliente ranch, anything that merited invitation. You grew teary at a few, oddly nostalgic even though it was only a couple of years ago. But this project had somehow changed everything out of alignment.

A thin stack of folded papers wedged in-between a Valentine's Day card from you last year and inside an envelope that had a wax heart the color of dried blood stamped on it caught your attention and you carefully peeled the corners back to extract the papers, which looked to be three separate pieces creased into halves. You took the one on top and unfolded it to reveal a letter. It had no formal or informal greeting and you blinked, reading the words in your husband's scrawling cursive handwriting. The first few lines seemed more like a diary entry than anything else until you read further...

Well, I am wearier lately than anyone could possibly guess because I have grown adept at adopting a mask of confidence and optimism. But it is a foolish man's desire to remain unchanged and hopeful in his situations that require more than words to express... I know you understand the moody tides well, my love, and I often wonder if you are feeling the bluing void edging on again as you often do, verging on the whole of complete consumption. Though it would be more appropriate to call it black as death itself; blue has been wrongly shamed in this case, although you could drown in my eyes.

Safe to say, I very much miss your presence and touch, the way you find comfort in me as if we are beyond mortal man and woman. Naturally, there are other parts of me that yearn for you as well, but I'm sure you could pinpoint exactly what. It wouldn't be proper to state it here, although I will never be sending this to you Jean. I sincerely hope you never read this because if you do, that means the war is ongoing and I have not evolved past this spout of melancholy. It is hard to determine the future when oneself is so pegged on the past and present... I feel as though I am stuck between the slides. How do I let myself be with you and yet here all at once? You feel light years away from me, though it is only a mere thousand miles, isn't it? I feel closer to the dying stars than compared to my active obligations here on Earth.

"Don't be an idiot, Robert, and alienate the few people who most understand you because one day you might need them." I can hear you say it now and I'm afraid I did exactly that to you but for reasons more monumental than myself. I thank you for being understanding over the phone, but I must remain in this slide while you are busy in your own microcosm of the world and it is easier to miss you, but I should place a bet against myself to see exactly how long this separation lasts. If you'll have me, I look forward to loving you in two or three year's time. I hope by then I do not fall out of the concept of love entirely and with an expiration date instead because that would be a tremendous dissatisfaction if you found another bull who could never match my (nor your) intellect. He would never deserve such a naughty angel as yourself and I myself won't let you linger past my mind too much longer, I promise.

Forever yours (or not, though I hope the prior),

Robert

He had added a postscript, written in original Sanskrit from The Bhagavad Gita and you squinted, seeing familiarity. You jumped up and went to the bookshelves, seeking out his copy and thumbing through the pages, finding the scripture that matched his handwriting and you recognized the passage as he had shown and translated it to you once.

And now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.

Why the fuck would he add that in as a PS in a pining love letter to his ex-girlfriend?

You put the book back and went to sit down on the floor beside his desk with the letter and other ones, which you dreaded opening in case they were more in the tone of lovesickness about Jean. You felt stunned and yet at the same time, unsurprised as if this was to be expected and maybe it was. It further proved that Robert hadn't completely emotionally filed Jean away as you'd thought and was planning on loving her again someday... Or he had just been really, really drunk when he composed this, but you highly doubted it.

Hands shaking, you set that letter aside gingerly as if it contained a deadly chemical and picked up a second folded piece of paper. When you opened it, you audibly gasped.

My Kitty,

I do hope you are well and pursuing a better life for yourself in the useful field of biology. Forgive me, I must be ridden with a fever, but wouldn't it be fortuitous if we perchance crossed paths in San Francisco one summer day? My flamboyant impossible imagination has flooded me again, so I'll indulge here: I'd see you out shopping and hopefully you would be with only female company (I take it your husband would be working, unless you have divorced) and we could strike up a conversation that led us to my Cadillac parked in the shadows of the shade, and I'd let you take refuge from the heat as my passenger and then I'd take your beautiful hand...

He had deeply scratched out the rest, but you could definitely make out a few lines of erotic poetry. In reaction, you bit your bottom lip so hard you nearly drew blood, and then reached for the last one, which was not a letter in the traditional sense, but more of a hastily scribbled note on an index card.

I need to see you soon. From one 'R' to another, you always have me at my truest regards.

You angrily swore aloud and started crumple this note, but paused. If you confronted him about it, this could blow up for both of you and you couldn't have that right now in the midst of life here for the project. No one was or could get divorced, that was not an option. No, you had to keep this secret and try to get back at him more stealthily. Robert clearly loved other women too much, that was it, and this was tangible of that. Enough was enough and it spurred on you to see the fellow you'd been avoiding since the party.

The next day, you went to Technical Area 1 and walked towards one of lab buildings, immediately noticed by the soldiers on guard and they came over, shaking their heads at you and your security clearance button, lower than permitted in such a site. You'd had to sweet talk your way just past the fencing to get to this point, but these particular hardened men didn't look swayable.

"I need to speak with my husband, it's urgent. Please," you begged dramatically, wringing your hands, and the men glanced at one another.

"He's preoccupied with his colleagues now, but we'll be sure to let him know about whatever it is, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

You pursed your lips, realizing they weren't going to let you just waltz into the building without an extremely good excuse, which you couldn't say.

"Fine. Good day, sirs." You walked far away from them and they went back to their business as you glanced around inconspicuously for an alternative entrance, going to another side. You found an unoccupied back door and hurried towards it, heart picking up pace.

"What are you doing?" a male voice called shrewdly from nearby behind.

"Shit," you muttered, whipping around to see a very suspicious Officer Nichols standing several feet away. Thankfully though, he was solitary.

"I'll have to report this, you know," he warned as you backed towards the shut door, forcing a big smile.

"Or what? You'll shoot me for finding my own husband?"

"Depends on the context. Dr. Oppenheimer is a very busy man and I'm sure he has much better to do with his limited time than to entertain his diligent token housewife."

You flushed angrily, feeling for the doorknob and of course it was locked.

"I swear to God I'm not doing anything else but speaking to him. I hardly know squat about quantum mechanics and the nature of his work," you lied, trying to appear absolutely innocent.

"Then what is so important you need to interrupt proceedings?" Officer Nichols asked sharply, coming closer.

"It's a highly urgent personal matter."

"I see." He paused, darting his eyes up and down the length of your body for a second before he spoke curiously.

"You haven't physically left The Hill since your arrival, is that correct?"

"Yes...?" you replied, unsure of where he was going with this.

Nichols stared at you for a moment through his glasses glinting in the midday sun and you looked back, locked in a strange thirty second unnerving silence of equilibrium. Finally he moved, stepping forward and nodding.

"I'll personally make sure that you never do."

"But no, I... I was planning on going shopping for supplies with some of the ladies this weekend in Santa Fe?"

He was silent and you were surprised when he took out a ringlet of keys, going to unlock the door.

"We all must make sacrifices, Mrs. Oppenheimer, and I'm sure your husband would agree. This is your reward for the loss of such a privilege, so go now before I change my mind and report you to General Groves."

You quickly darted inside without a backward glance, heart thudding in aftermath of the interaction. Did he really mean that? Would he get in trouble if someone found out? Or more importantly, would you get in a tight spot for sneaking around?

You strode through the maze of hallways past lab rooms, offices, and the like until you heard dull voices up ahead and saw Robert's back, face to the chalkboard, through a half-cracked door. The scientists turned to stare when they heard your heels come to a halt in the doorway, looking away from their paperwork and the blackboard. The awkward silence was deafening; a pin could drop at any moment and a man coughed, just to relieve the stagnant air. The lone female physicist of the group, Dr. Lilli Hornig, gave you a curious look with a quick polite smile as she scribbled something on a piece of paper. Robert froze with a cigarette in one hand and a piece of whittled chalk in the other, his blues boring into your face out of sheer shock.

"Y/N, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"No. I merely need to borrow that man right there for a moment of time. It's a personal matter," you announced crisply, pointing straight at Ernest Lawrence, whose expression morphed from surprise and to utter bemusement.

"Excuse me, then," he muttered and stood up, shuffling papers self consciously before making his way to you, moving down the hallway. You randomly led him to an empty storage room and opened the door, lightly pushing him inside.

"What are you doing?" he asked empathically as you faced him in the middle of the room, steadying yourself as you looked up at him, unaccustomed to being so close to a man considerably taller and bulkier than Robert's physicalie.

"Remember a couple weeks ago in May at last month's party?" you asked briskly and his brow furrowed in realization.

"Admittedly, not as much as I should. Oppie jokingly mentioned the next day afterwards about needing to restrict the amount liquor we're consuming at the house when you're hosting because we're not frat boys," he replied with an honest shrug.

"Do you recall that kiss you gave me out of the blue?"

His face flexed, eyebrows shooting up as his mouth twitched in guilty humor and you narrowed your eyes.

"Yes, perhaps a bit of it. In my defense though, I wasn't quite all there and there was talk going around, silly talk. I was dared into doing it, actually."

Now your own eyebrows mimicked his at this confession and you stepped closer, toe-to-toe with his shoes.

"Who dared you?"

"Promise to keep it to yourself?"

"Sure."

"Richard was the instigator and then the rest of the guys coaxed him on. Absolute ridiculousness we never would have done otherwise, I swear to you it's the high altitude of this place having an effect on our immature raucous behavior combined with alcohol."

"Feynman? The rascal, I could've guessed," you rolled your eyes disapprovingly and he sighed, shifting slightly on his feet.

"I really do apologize for the regrettable behavior, I sincerely promise it won't happen again," he told you seriously and you cocked your head slightly, giving him a once-over.

"Do you find me attractive?"

Lawrence immediately grew reserved and reluctant, making a grimace.

"Oh, I... I, oh no, I don't think it would be permissible to answer that."

"Go ahead. I dare you."

He swallowed nervously and came close with intimidation, making you stagger back all the way to the wall behind you, where he placed a hand up on it by your head, leaning in intimately and his warm breath tickled your cheeks.

"Yes, I suppose. But I'm happily married and certainly not looking for trouble or to wreck your own marriage. You must think I'm a very lousy friend," he admitted quietly.

"I think you underestimate me, Doctor," you whispered, nearly a purr, as you moved close and brushed his cheek with your fingers. He tried to speak, but you shushed him and gently removed his glasses, letting them dangle in your grip as you tilted into him, pressing your other hand firmly to his broad chest, squeezing the fabric of his vest.

Footsteps suddenly sounded from the hall outside, so you made it fast, giving Ernest a fast peck on the lips, just in time as then the door briskly yanked open and Robert poked his head in dubiously. You leaned back, still holding the glasses and Lawrence fumbled for them, accidentally interlocking fingers as your husband stared in confused disbelief.

"Y/N? What is the meaning of all this? We have work to do, why are you taking up his time?"

"Oppie, it's fine, we were just..." Ernest paused, readjusting rims of the glasses back on his face and he turned to you, a bit breathless.

"What were we talking about exactly?"

"All your great achievements, including the Nobel Prize, in contributing to the advancement of science, most notably your famous cyclotron and I was inquiring about the exact mechanics of how such a thing works. Something along the lines of high energy particles and acceleration...?"

"Right, because you were going to write to your father, who is curious about it," he caught on, proliferating this cock-and-bull conversation.

"And why do you need to interrupt our work about that? Aren't you supposed to elsewhere?" Robert asked, not hiding annoyance in plain sight. You could feel Ernest staring, gaze locked on you and your stomach butterflied, but you gave a brave face.

"You mean my womanly duties at home?" you snapped back.

"Yes, or however you may call it. Now, we need our physicist back if you'll pardon me." He beckoned Lawrence urgently and the man reluctantly pulled himself away from you, clearly ashamed and flustered. Once he was out of the room, Robert stepped inside and shut the door closed with snap. His face was taunt and irritated, fingers habitually fiddling for the ghost of a cigarette.

"What are you playing at here?" he demanded, already hurt without any explanation.

"Just a follow up to our last meeting," you said causally enough to anger him. He crossed to meet you in two strides, catching your wrist and lifting up your arm, interlacing his fingers very tightly with yours as he spoke lowly, intensively.

"What is the matter, am I not giving you enough? Do I not provide enough for you? You feel an urge to court my best man and colleague all of a sudden because you are bored of your humdrum domesticity? Is that what you love about Los Alamos, the fine selection of like-minded substitutes once you tire of me? Am I not enough?" His voice raised before he caught himself, releasing a shaky breath. He was genuinely upset and you felt rotten, but only for a second. It's not like he was clean in this either.

"Don't be ridiculous. I swear, you always assume the worst of me," you scoffed in response.

"Well, I certainly know a cheat when I see one," he said bitterly, twisting his fingers out of yours and dropping his arm.

"Yes, you would know indeed. But Jesus, Robert, he's only a friend, your friend I might add, and it was only a bit of fun, nothing serious. You said it yourself, it's good for him to loosen up. What else are parties for?"

"Right. Oh, yes, I'm sure that's exactly it," he replied sarcastically.

"He started it, you know, after Richard dared him to kiss me apparently at the party."

"Then I'll be speaking to both of them. But you need to stop it, quit acting so childish and inappropriate over this. You're smarter than this shtick and there is too much at stake to be partaking in silly juvenile romantic games."

"You do realize I'm at least fifteen years younger than you, right? You can't expect me to be, well, whatever it is called to be at your age. Old, is it?" you mocked and normally that would've sounded very rude in any other situation, but he knew your sharp side all too well to take it too seriously, especially when delivered with a teasing smile.

"You couldn't think of a worse slander than 'old'?" he scoffed, unimpressed, and you snorted, tapping the knot of his tie affectionately.

"The point is, I am indeed younger than you."

"So? I have no issue with that and you have proved yourself very capable of co-existence so far, I think you are quite mature for your age actually, at least until now... But I don't think biological age matters in love."

"I was just over eighteen when you began courting me and you used to flirt with your few female physics students that were no older," you reminded him and he diverted his gaze, tapping his foot anxiously and he distractedly flicked out a cigarette from his pocket pack, lighting it in a second and puffing in response. You stepped back from the plume of smoke, glancing towards the window and crossing your arms. He exhaled loudly and jerked his hand to point the cigarette at you and then spoke with ultimatum.

"I don't want to see you enter this laboratory with the intention of unnecessary interruption ever again. I will tell the officers outside to stop and restrain you if you do. Hell, I'll take these matters to the General if I have to, you hear me on that?"

"I certainly do as a matter of fact and I also know for a fact that you'd be wasting his time. Petty marriage squabbles isn't a high priority or forte for a high-ranking military man like him. But as for you, well, now you know what it feels like to be jeopardized over another human being," you countered.

"My ties are very different and I would never think to do it so publicly! I am discreet about such internal, highly private business," he exclaimed, getting frustrated with this discussion and this made you laugh humorlessly.

"Bullshit and you know that. I saw you a week before our wedding walking hand in hand with Jean down Shasta Road and what about that time afterwards when our friends saw you dancing with-"

He quickly talked louder, running over your words heatedly.

"No, no, no. You are just feeding into this ridiculousness and fabricating a relationship that isn't there!"

"Maybe so, but I thought it would be a good lesson, or test, for you and if this is any indicator, you've been bothered. I take heart in that you must love me so that it has unnerved you to see me with another man."

"There was never any doubt that I love you. Christ, if that's what this is all about..." He sighed, rubbing his creased forehead briefly before walking backwards to the door, opening it up and you could hear the dull chatter of voices from the other room.

"Well?" you asked when he didn't do anything, just standing with hands on his hips.

"I want you to do whatever it is that pleasures you, just as long as it doesn't happen to be luring my top physicist and close friend in a back room during the middle of a workday. Have some standard decency for God's sake," he spat, the words stinging, and you crystalized, uncrossing your arms and shaking your head at the hypocrisy.

"I never noticed it until we came here, but Ruth sure has your attention, doesn't she?"

"Pardon?" He blinked.

"You heard me."

"Ruthie has nothing to do with this and how dare you drag her name through your muddled mood today."

"Ruthie?" You rolled your eyes at clear affection underlying his tone.

"Listen to yourself Robert, you have feelings for her, you've always been close."

"She's a very dear friend, one of the few people I can truly confide in and share my emotions with, nothing more," he insisted.

"Am I part of that select number of confidants?"

"Of, of course. Has our entire marriage been for naught? I cannot believe your attitude over this, it's deplorable."

"It must be very nice to be you, Robert. No one here in Los Alamos casts open judgement upon you," you commented bitterly and he cringed, closing his eyes for a brief moment before staring back at you.

"Not yet, anyway," he answered with a tone of cryptic ominousness and you only frowned, shoving past him to exit the building.

A full twenty four hours passed without further incident until you haphazardly ran into Feynman on the street, just the man you were looking for.

"Richard?"

"Yeah?" He stopped and gave you a familiar cocky smile which dropped at the narrowed eyes and serious expression you were giving him.

"Oh, is this about the party? I didn't think he'd even do it, I apologize for our frivolousness that night. Clearly very unacceptable." He cleared his throat awkwardly and you leaned close, speaking in a low murmur.

"Do me a favor?"

"Uh, sure...?"

"I have an assignment for you: Find me a single man - preferably scientist - in this town, anyone remotely attractive will do, but no close friends or direct colleagues of Robert's, it has to be at least second or third tier from his inner circle and single - I'm not crossing into some other woman's territory - and arrange me a date with him in secret. Think of it as an experimental equation: One attempted devoted wife plus one all-but-labeled womanizer husband plus unsuspecting stag. It's time to give someone a taste of his own sweet and sour medicine."

"Oh, you feel like causing a scandal, do you? It won't take a mathematician to see what it'll will add up to." He chuckled in disbelief but then dropped his voice, casting wary glances around at passing residents, or civilians, as everyone who was non-military were officially called.

"Are you quite sure about this?"

"If I let my conscience speak, then no. But if I let every other fiber of my being, then yes. Will you do it?"

"I... I can't, no, this is beneath us," he protested, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort.

"It's one event at a casual party, it's quite another outside... Well, you know. Real tampering with people's lives has consequences and I'm not sure I'm the man for this job, I think if maybe, it-"

"I'll pay you," you interrupted quickly and he quirked an eyebrow and leaned closer.

"How much?" he whispered curiously.

"Twenty?"

"Make it 100 and you've got yourself a deal. I'll do it and you can pay me later at your convenience. Now excuse me, but I have some business elsewhere."

He hurried off and there was no further word until one early morning you came into the kitchen as Robert was dressing his toast and brewing coffee, and you were surprised to see a bouquet of long stemmed red roses on the table. Naturally, you looked to him as his habit of flower gifting was infamous, but he was staring just as confounded as you were. He seemed positively rattled, in fact.

"Did you...?" he asked and you echoed that same question.

"Did you?"

"No, I haven't been flower picking as of late," he replied dryly with a taut closed smile and then it dawned on you. Could it be from the mystery date you'd sent Feynman to set up?

"I'll put them in the living room, shall I? They'll get the strong afternoon light that will illuminate their velvety rouge petals," you expressed and he nodded emotionlessly, turning back to the toast and grabbing the pot of coffee.

Once you were alone in the lounge, you carefully inspected the flowers; they were beautiful and fairly fresh, only one or two were curling at the tips from the heat and as you held it up to admire, there was a small square piece of paper taped on the bottom of the skinny glass vase: It was a thin note, reading of a scrambled code of some sorts. You smirked, knowing it had to be Feynman who did this; he was always writing letters in code to his ailing sweetheart stuck in Albuquerque.

"Y/N, have you seen my badge? It's gone missing!" Robert called anxiously from the kitchen and you quickly tore the note off the bottom and tucked it into your pajamas.

"You probably left it on the dresser," you called back to him absentmindedly.

Once he left for the day, you sat down and worked to crack the code, which wasn't terribly hard considering it was predictable; boiling down to an address, date and time. You'd hoped for a name of the mystery gentleman, but didn't seem to get one.

That evening, you dressed in one of your finest silk dresses, red in color as the roses, and made your way to the bachelor's dormitory on the other side of town. You technically weren't allowed to be transversing around here, especially at this hour, and you cringed at a couple of catcalling whistles from young drunken men loitering outside. You ignored them, hurrying up the stairs to the mystery man's dorm and knocked once. The door opened, almost cautiously, and a decent looking young man stood there, his short brunette hair combed back and he wore a well pressed suit but with a blue tie slightly out of alignment.

"Good evening, Ma'am," he greeted in a pleasant voice and you automatically blushed, staring into his eyes which were a very watered-down literation of Robert's own blues; if his were the ocean, this man's were a lake on a grey skied afternoon and it made you feel a tad sad about doing this. Of course no man's eyes could ever quite compare.

"Hello...?" you trailed off, needing a name to this blind date of yours.

"My name is Anthony, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

"Pleasure to meet you and please, that makes me sound old and tethered. Just call me Y/N."

He nodded, stepping aside and you went inside, closing the door behind you as you surveyed the somewhat neat living quarters consisting of basic furniture and scattered paperwork and magazines.

"I apologize if this is rather awkward, but I take it Richard gave you the details?"

"More or less," Anthony answered and the way he was ogling at you wasn't so much like piece of meat, but out of respect and disbelief that he had actually had a date with the wife of the top dog scientific director of Los Alamos.

"Would you care for a drink? I just have, uh, scotch if that's alright. Probably different from what you're used to," he murmured the last part and you assured him quickly it was alright.

"Yes I would, thank you."

He handed a half filled glass to you gently and you noticed his hands were trembling slightly.

"You don't have to be nervous, I'm really not all that remarkable. I may have my husband's name, but I'm certainly not him, you know. We all bask in the long reaching shade of Oppie, don't we?"

"Right, of course," he chuckled, offering you a seat on the sofa and taking a sip of his own, regarding you impressively.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?" you asked tenderly and he shrugged, still rather timid.

"I was dating a girl back in college but we broke off right before I signed onto the project."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty four," he answered.

"Good, not younger than me; I suppose we are perhaps compatible then in that respect. You don't need to hear my life story, but I was a year in studying medicine at Stanford until this and now I suppose I'm just another housewife at the moment." You sighed, taking a small sip and nodding at him pleasantly.

"So what do you do here, generally? I take it you aren't one of the boys in Oppie's so-called cult?"

"No, I'm an engineer actually. I work in one of the labs, hands on, none of that theoretical bunch."

You nodded approvingly and there was a lapse of silence until he gestured with his glass, sloshing the liquid slightly.

"So I take it you're quite unhappy with... with Dr. Oppenheimer if you wanted to meet with another man?" he asked cautiously, disguising excitement.

"No questions, if you don't mind. I'm not here to talk about him," you replied seriously and he nodded fervently, setting the drink down on the side table.

"Yes, right. I apologize. I guess that doesn't leave much formalities then." He paused, swiping his tongue across his lips.

"I'd like to kiss you if that's not rushing too much," he proposed politely, but with a tone of urgency.

"Go right ahead." You braced as he leaned in, inches from your lips and you shared air for a second before he plunged forward, groping your mouth fast and lightly. But it felt all so wrong. You lightly pulled back, his hands not even holding your face like Robert always did so there wasn't much real intimacy, and glanced to the floor self consciously.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this," you murmured guiltily. Maybe it wasn't even your conscience; maybe he just wasn't the right guy.

"But I thought you wanted it...?" Anthony's brows furrowed in hurt confusion and offense, so you quickly backpedaled.

"Not here, we can't do anything here. How about... Do you want to come over to my home?" you blurted out abruptly and he swallowed.

"But is-isn't your husband home?"

"That's the point."

Gathering courage for the both of you, Anthony then stood and took your hand to walk you to the door, leading you out down to the street level and the two of you walked all the way to Bathtub Row together. You could tell he was in awe of these homes that were larger and much better constructed.

"So this is how the other side lives." Anthony gave a low whistle and you laughed, bumping his side gently.

"Don't worry. We use the same water, electricity, and plumbing as you do, it's just a little more glamorous and I promise you anyone living in Los Alamos to work on the project is not substandard or lower class, even if the military may be rather degrading at times. It's all just a socially constructed hierarchy."

He squeezed your waist affectionately and you led him to the house, telling him to wait by the shrubs as you walked around to peer into the windows to see if Robert was still up, which you'd be surprised if he wasn't, and indeed he was: reclining in an armchair by the fireplace, reading and puffing on his pipe.

You signaled to Anthony to come closer and he crossed the yard to stand by the side of the house, appearing wary. He mouthed 'do you see him?' and you nodded, turning your back to the window and beckoned to him to move close. He carefully did so until he was a few inches from your face and you swallowed at the intimacy, the daring nerve to kiss a man right in front of the windowpanes where your husband sat in the living room.

"Kiss me, but passionately this time, no holding back. Just pretend it's only the two of us, okay?" you whispered and he breathed in, parting lips.

"Is this a dream?" he whispered and you giggled lightly, straddling his body and cupping the back of his neck, hairs bristling your fingers.

"Only if you want it to be, but no telling anyone when you wake up, understand?"

"No one would believe me... I feel as though I'm about to commit a great sin against the Oppenheimer unity, I can't believe I'm going to do this," he admitted with a dark chuckle.

"I can," you breathed and before you knew it, his lips connected to yours and the kiss was actually amazingly passionate indeed for two people who just personally met tonight. You breathed in his musky scent and intertwined tongues, smooshing noses and you felt him push you up against the window, arms embracing you whole and you secretly hoped it would eventually catch Robert's attention. Your intention was just one full kiss, but now this man had you, he seemed reluctant to let go as you began to lean back from his mouth, head lightly conking against the window. Anthony groped your breasts hungrily and you felt his hard-on pressing against your thigh as your bodies rubbed, the kissing becoming sloppier and for a moment, you completely forgot what you'd done this for. A faint yell came from somewhere and Anthony grew more attached, tightening his grasp on your frame, kissing harder and you started to feel a slight wetness in your panties.

"Stop! Get off of her! Please, that's my wife!" Robert's voice called in audible distress and you realized this must look a lot worse than it was, and you had to admit this man was getting a bit rougher as his more primal desire came to fruition and you grunted, turning your head and trying to wriggle out from underneath his locking embrace.

"That's enough, enough," you murmured anxiously, but he wasn't stopping.

"You said this could be my dream, can't ya let me finish first?" Anthony growled in your ear, but you were done, having successfully alarmed your husband. This wasn't meant to go further and quite frankly, you were unnerved how quickly it had escalated. He wasn't quite the shy gentleman scientist anymore once he was aroused, but you supposed these types of adventures did bring out the animalistic behavior in most after all.

Simple souls, Robert had said once of human beings.

Unfortunately, he was now witness to such a 'simple man' about to take you right on the windows of his stone and log cabin style house.

"STOP THAT NOW!" Robert yelled off to the right and you felt Anthony being forcefully tugged away, his arm flailing out and trying to grasp, catching your hair and you winced as he accidentally yanked painfully.

You were suddenly released and you gasped, sidestepping and watching in shock as Robert tried to jump on the man, his belt removed from his waist and gripped tightly in his hands as he wrestled it aggressively around Anthony's neck, constricting with enough force to make him gag and choke.

"Robert, no!" you shouted, rushing forward and attempting to pull him away, but it was as if he were deaf to the wind.

"I demand you to LEAVE my property at once and to NEVER see my wife, or this won't end on civilized terms," he threatened loudly and you'd never seen such a fire in his piercing eyes before. It intrigued and frightened you, considering he was not a brute in any sense. Anthony pleaded through his choking, whimpering pathetically, until Robert finally backed off, snapping the belt and huffing.

The other man stumbled up to his feet and held up his hands in surrender as Robert squinted in the dark, trying to fully identify him.

"I'm terribly apologetic Dr. Oppenheimer, sir, I won't bother you or the Mrs. anymore, I'll be right on my way!"

Anthony ran like a bat out of hell from the property and once it was silent, Robert turned to you with heavy breaths, the belt hanging limply at his side. You took one look and then rushed inside in the house, kicking off your heels in the hallway and dashing into the bedroom, slamming the door, heart pounding a sprint.

Moments later, you heard his clodding footsteps and anxious voice calling out desperately, the door bursting open.

"Jesus Christ, are you alright?" he gasped as you shrunk away from him, still feeling Anthony's hands all over you and the whole guilt imploded, resulting in a sudden overflow of tears.

"Fuck, Robert! It's all my fault, I told Richard Feynman to set us up and I told Anthony to come here as a show to make you jealous and it advanced, I promise he meant no harm, we just wanted-"

"You did this on purpose?" he interrupted, betrayal lighting his features and you wiped messily at the tears streaming down your own.

"Yes! I kissed him on purpose! I wanted to spite you, I'm sorry but I cannot handle this anymore! I wanted to hurt and infuriate you like you do to me with your blatant love of other women! I bribed Richard $100 for a date with a single scientist, I didn't know what I'd get, but I'm glad you saw us together, it is only fair when I have to read love letters to past girlfriends... or are they just current 'friends'?!"

His mouth gaped and the frown lines appeared, creasing his forehead in prudent anger.

"The audacity... I suppose I indeed underestimated you, my sweet Aphrodite," he said lowly, voice a low rumble and despite everything you actually felt a shiver of arousal in your core.

In two strides, he met you at the foot of the bed, grabbing your head in a vice and in a bizarrely dominant twist, pinned you down to the bed, trapping you underneath him and yet you saw the uncertainty flicker. He was pretending to be so dominant, but couldn't take the reins fully.

Oh, Oppie.

"Roll over," you ordered sharply and he did, collapsing onto his back as you unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down hastily, staring at his cock straining against his boxers. You placed your palm on it, teasing him and he moaned softly, shaking his head at the deviousness on your face.

"No, please. Please, let me out, please don't do this, please..."

Begging. He was actually begging. After he just had attacked a man outside and was reeling from your confession, he was here at an embarrassingly burgeoning erection.

"I'm so close that I don't need you inside me, but I think you need a bit more help, is that right?" you whispered condescendingly and he gulped, eyes wide dilated marbles.

"I'm sorry about all of it, I never meant t-to-" he sputtered off as you clapped a hand to his mouth and you straddled his body, legs quivering with anticipation.

His penis grew harder and a clear wet stain bled through the fabric, causing him to squirm underneath you and you smiled, bumping up and grinding against clothed erection. You yelped at the sudden rush of internal pleasure and his hands gripped your dress at the hips, gasping along with your heaves and whines, but he himself was yet to peak. He seemed mortified as you then sat back and placed firm hands down on his crotch, holding his bulge tightly. He groaned, mortified as you wouldn't let him go, and after stretching him out to his limits for too long, a single squeeze brought him to a full climax, absolutely soaking his boxers and he threw his head back on the pillow, reveling in the orgasm.

Panting, you climbed off him and he weakly sat up, holding out a hand with the other on his wet crotch in sheer humiliation. You left the bed, gathering your appearance and catching breath.

"No, don't... Don't leave," he requested desperately from his spot on the bed and you shook your head, tousling hair as you glanced over at him.

"Clean up your own mess, darling," you told him firmly, a metaphor as much as a literal one.

He sighed, swinging legs off the bed and hobbling off to the bathroom as you began to undress, slipping out of the dress and into a bedtime robe.

He came back in, clean but utterly naked, and his dick was still dripping a smidge at the tip.

"You very much ruined a good pair of my underwear," he complained and you merely shrugged, patting the bed as you crawled in and he joined, scooting under the sheets and pulling you close, resting his forehead at yours, speaking in a mutter.

"You just had to stoop low with that male 'catch' of yours, didn't you?"

"That's not very nice, darling. Anthony seemed like a nice man and he's an engineer, I'll have you know."

"He isn't a third of the man I am."

"No one is you, Robert. That's why I went to another man in the first place."

"I truly wanted to suffocate the life out of him, I would have maimed him quite seriously had I lacked control. I haven't thought of doing such a terrible action since my Cambridge episodes, my terrible fits of jealousy... I suppose I expressed protection over you," he mused grimly.

"It's the thought that counts," you commented darkly.

"I can be so impulsive and erratic... You and everyone knows quite well how I was going to poison my tutor; I had injected potassium cyanide in the body of that innocent apple and left it on his desk..."

You remembered it had been Jean who had offhandedly first mentioned this story to you and she had assured you it was only because he was going through a very difficult phase in his life and actually all he needed to feel fulfilled was to just "get laid" as she aptly put it. Funnily enough, 'getting laid' was the least of Robert's problems now.

He took your hand at the moment and grasped too hard, squeezing your fingers, leaning towards you anxiously and speaking urgently.

"Listen, and I mean this very much: Don't ever see another man, I don't think I can do this again without gravely spraining my heart."

"And your enormous ego," you added the obvious with a small smile and he returned it, also giving you a light kiss on the cheek and cuddling in close.

"I love you," he offered gently and you shot him a glance, unable to hide the blushing smirk.

"Touché."

#oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #j robert oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer au #ernest lawrence #ernest lawrence x reader #josh hartnett x reader #richard feynman jack quaid #j robert oppenheimer x you #oppie #oppenheimer smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy smut #robert oppenheimer x y/n #oppenheimer film #oppenheimer x y/n #don't like don't read #don't like don't interact #part of a series #part 6 #my writing #winnie's writing

[krtsvig]

CAN PEOPLE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE MORE HUGHIE CAMPBELL FICS AND SMUT PLEASE I’M BEGGING THERE ISN’T ENOUGH

#hughie campbell #hughie campbell x reader #the boys #jack quaid #the boys imagine #the boys hughie #the boys season 3 #hughie campbell imagine

[gothicknightz]

temporary masterlist

this masterlist is ONLY TEMPORARY for all current works.

SCREAM FRANCHISE

ETHAN LANDRY: 

• family ties | part two - reader, chad, sam, and tara are attempting to escape from ghostface, who subsequently reveals themself (fem!)

• 3 am | part two - reader is on their way back from a party and gets attacked (fem!)

• for her - reader and ethan are by themselves in his dorm room (fem!)

RICHIE KIRSCH:

• various unfinished drafts!

GOTHAM

JEROME VALESKA:

• pass the nirvana

• king of chaos 

• firsts for everything

• sucker punch

• knuckle sandwich 

#gothicknightz #scream #scream 6 #scream 5 #scream vi #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #richie kirsch #richie kirsch x reader #jack champion #jack quaid #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #Gotham #gotham imagines #jerome valeska #jerome valeska imagine #cameron monghan #joker imagine

[yourmomxx]

m.m.: please tell me you didn't drag hughie into this

butcher: i did not drag hughie into this

*banging on the door*

m.m., eyes wide: who's that?

butcher, trying to keep the door shut: i think you know

#source: boy meets world #incorrect quotes #mother’s milk #laz alonso #the boys #the boys prime #the boys shitpost #incorrect the boys quotes #billy butcher #karl urban #hughie campbell #jack quaid #jensen ackles #soldier boy #the boys imagine #the boys spoilers #the boys season 3

[bowieandqueen11]

Dating Hughie Campbell Would Include...

Request: Hello Cee! Would it be okay to please request some headcanons about dating Hughie Campbell, please? Thank you so much for your beautiful writing <3

Hello my darling, of course you can! Hughie’s nervous energy is literally me lmaooo he’s so chaotic

Warning slightly NSFW, and some swearing!

(I do not own the Boys or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @therealhughiecampbell.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Hughie... my wet towel poor meow bundle of chaotic and nervous energy, dear lord you just need someone to give you a big warm hug my man but also just shake you around a bit I love you so much.

Dates out on park benches around the city (I mean, mainly to get away from Butcher and his complaining at least for a couple of hours.) He’s so cute, he always brings a little lunchbox in his satchel bag, with immaculately cut down the middle peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in them. He always sits thigh to thigh with you, and you can feel the embarrassed heat radiate off him every time your hand brushes against his and he twitches. Looking out over the rolling hills and mellow city top in the hazy afternoon, the two of you share the food - but he always ends up hand feeding you his half, giggling as you turn and try to bite his fingers as they rest against your lips.

The two of you ignore the concerned looks you get from passer-by's when, on the way back, you jump on him and the two of you roll onto the grass. He cradles your head, making sure you’re not hurt as he lands on his back, and you on top of his chest. He just giggles, spreading his fingers over your cheeks and cradling your face as you lie on top of him, pressing a thousand kisses over your cheeks and nose. He only stops for a minute when he stops Butcher watching the two of you from behind a nearby bush, and he yells at him to get lost. 

The two of you go out bowling a lot, mainly because he uses it as an excuse to lay some heavy PDA on you without anyone in the safe house coming between you. Every time you’re up at the alley, focusing only on your bowling ball and the pins, he always gives himself away by the sound of his squeaky shoes running up behind you. He tries to win by distracting you, wrapping his arms around your waist and heaving you up into the air, spinning you around tightly against his chest. At the same time, he can’t help but want you to do well, so he agrees a sort of challenge with you. Every time you manage to get a strike, or a spare, he’ll happily jump up from the row of sticky seats and rush up to arch his back towards you and eclipse you with a sentimental kiss to your lips.

He’s really, really into absolutely awful corny jokes. ‘Are you related to Frenchie? Because, Y/n... Eiffel for you so quickly. I know, I know I regret it already... nah, actually, that was great I have no regrets.’

Although he’ll get flustered as heck, and honestly really annoyed if Frenchie keeps making kissy noises at him for weeks afterwards, he loves having soft little make out sessions at the safe house. Sometimes he just needs to get out of the mess of his head, and to ground himself in something he knows is real, is true, is the best thing he knows he’ll ever has. As soon as the two of you get back in from a hairy Supe fight, he’s so desperate to just feel you that your feet are moving back to the hallway wall before you can even blink. Although his hands are currently resting against the back of your neck, curled against your skin like a vice to keep you against his plush and needy lips, he flips the two of you so he hits the wall instead of you. His hands eventually dance their way down your shoulders, gracing down your sides until they fist into the meat of your hips, and a guttural, breathless groan looses itself into your mouth. 

Eventually the two of you end up tripping down the few stairs and collapsing down against the cracked cushion of the sofa. He’s pulling against the back of your thighs, gently, until you’re sitting with your knees pressed tightly into his abdomen, and your feet resting on his knees. Every time you try to pull away to breathe, he shuts his eyes in bliss and whimpers, arching his back up and chasing your lips until he can feel your teeth stretch his bottom lip. It’s so cute, the little squeaky moans every time he can feel your stomach press against the buttons of his shirt, or your legs slip down between his waist - a strangled cry somewhere between ruination and euphoria.

When the tension finally becomes too much, and he eventually has to try and unlatch his lips from where they’re currently slid between your top lip before he bursts, he’ll pull back and just keep whispering ‘I love you. I love you so much’, over and over again. He brushes the hair back from your eyes with his left thumb, his cold fingers splaying over your cheek as he pulls your head down to rest against his forehead.

‘aHEM. Daddy’s home, you dirty dogs.’

‘Jeez, Butcher, a little warning next time.’

‘There’s only one room in this place you daft cunt, the ‘eck else am I supposed to go?’

He drives Billy absolutely around the bend, because he’ll be trying to force Hughie to go scope out some Supe riddled festival, and the man will be too busy twirling his hair and kicking his feet on the sofa because he’s talking to you on the phone lmao. You’ve only been out for about forty five minutes, and eventually Butcher just rolls his eyes and drags Hughie up and out the door by the collar. Even while he’s driving in the van, Hughie seems suspiciously quiet while he’s trying to talk to him, so he’s less than surprised when he peers through the rear-view mirror and sees him hunched up, texting fervently.

One time you fell asleep on Hughie’s shoulder while Butcher was driving the five of you back home in Frenchie’s new van. You woke up a couple of hours later, still in the back of the vehicle. Hughie hasn’t slept a wink; he’s just sitting there, trying not to breath too heavily and stay stock still, but he has managed to shuffle his jacket down his shoulders and clumsily laid it over your torso. He’s just humming a bit of ‘Uptown Girl’ to himself, glancing down at you from time to time to check he hasn’t woken you up, with all the love in the world beaming out of his swirling eyes, and his heart-breaking grin (as well as a sweaty ass forehead from how blooming hot it is). When he begins to see you blink awake, the first thing he wants you to do is laugh, so he bends down and flutters his nose against the pulse point on your neck like a lovestruck puppy.

During intense group meetings with the other Boys, the poor man gets so nervous about some of Butcher’s plans that the only way you can get him to calm down and stop a panic attack coming on is to give him your hands. Although he’s staring straight ahead at the wall; his eyebrows are furrowed, breath uneven and ragged, and eyes wide and terrified, he grips onto your fingers like a lifeline. After a sharp gasp, he manages to entangle your fingers within his slender ones and press them just above his heart, throwing you a dorky smile to let you both know that he’s alright, and how thankful he is for you.

Speaking of, as soon as you come back home from being out literally anywhere dangerous, he immediately seeks you out. He can’t calm down and settle himself until he knows you’re safe, so expect him to to run and crash into you in a bug hug until you’re completely squeezed out.

He’s SUPER protective though, when needs come to must. If any of the Seven comes in a hundred mile radius of you, he’s grabbed your arm and thrown you behind his back so he can take any and all of the incoming damage. My man would give his life up over and over for you if it came to that, because without you, he would die. You have saved his life every day, and without you, he knows Hughie Campbell would no longer exist. He would be lost to the darkness and the hatred, and so he’s prepared to give himself up to and for you whenever the chance arises.

#the boys #hughie campbell #the boys imagine #hughie campbell imagine #hughie campbell x reader #hughie campbell headcanons #jack quaid #the boys x reader #the boys fanfic #the boys fanfiction #hughie the boys #hughie campbell the boys #hughie campbell fluff #hughie campbell angst

[the-imaginative-hobbyist]

Congratulations to Oppenheimer winning big at this year's Academy Awards. Well deserved.

#art #the imaginative hobbyist #artist #digital art #artwork #photoshop #fan art #film #oppenheimer #cillian murphy #robert downey jr #emily blunt #florence pugh #charles roven #gary oldman #sir kenneth branagh #matt damon #jack quaid #josh peck #david krumholtz #alden ehrenreich #jason clarke #scott grimes #tony goldwyn #casey affleck #emma thomas #ludwig goransson #james woods #oscars #academy award winner

[fandomnerd9602]

Tara x male reader, where Y/N can't stop laughing about how stupid Amber and Richie's motive is

Richie: yeah we’re gonna get the reboot sequel that the fans deserve-

Tara and Y/N burst out laughing…

Amber: what?!

Tara: that’s your plan?! That’s so stupid!!

Y/N: yeah I’m a screenwriter! And I literally have the Stab producer on speed dial!

Tara: you could’ve aired your problems and Y/N would’ve solved them!

Richie:

Amber: well fu-

Blam! Y/N shoots them both in the head

#scream 5 #scream imagine #scream #scream tara #scream ghostface #scream amber #amber freeman #tara carpenter #mikey madison #jenna ortega #jack quaid #Richie scream

[god-u]

rewatched the hunger games on my flight after watching it 11 years ago and yea.. a limoreau hunger games au would eat BAD

#i know other ppl said it but now that my memory’s been refreshed i truly see the vision #jordan is katniss and marie is peeta yuppp!! #limoreau #mariejordan #x #💌 #also imagine my surprise seeing jack quaid as marvel like 😭😭 #i did not remember him at all i was like hughie??!! #also found out he’s a nepo baby i’m skdhdjsk #hollywood doesn’t want talent without connections anymore we are DOOMED #update: someone just told me the director is a fucking zionist omg we cant have shit.. i wont be watching the new movie in that case #not this director but the one who directors all the sequels after smh

[voxmortuus]

Hey baby! ♥ Since you said your requests for The Boys are open, may I make a request for a Hughie fic, please? Something fluffy about him learning about what a Daddy kink is. Smut is optional, I'll leave that up to you.

Thank you. ~

PAIRING: Hughie Campbell x Little Female!Reader

UNIVERSE: The Boys

WORDS: 898

SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above

Trigger Warning(s): DD/lg Theme | Daddy Kink | Nothing but Fluff | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, I'm hoping this finds you well love! I did get in contact with the requester to make sure they felt accurately represented in this fic.

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is, please INBOX me and let me know.

My Master Masterlist | Taglist

Today was the day. You were going to sit down with Hughie and explain it all. You get to tell him what it was to be a Daddy. You begin to prep yourself on how to explain it. As you sit on the train with your teddy bear backpack in your lap and your light pink cat ear headphones on, drowning out the outside sounds with a Little Time playlist you created. Nodding now and then as you made points you wanted to explain. Hughie always thought your little actions were cute and adorable, but now, you get to explain why you had these little actions.

The train comes to a stop and standing up, you put your backpack on and head out the door. Looking up, you see Hughie standing there. He's never done that before. You smile. Sliding your headphones to sit on your neck, you giggle.

"What are you doing here? You never meet me here." You smile.

"Well, I wanted to make sure no one kidnapped you on the way to my apartment."

"Well, that has yet to happen. I'm pretty sure I would be returned anyway. I talk too much." You chuckle.

"Well, still, little girls shouldn't walk alone." Hughie nodded and held his hand out for you to take.

His words caught you off guard a bit. Taking his hand, you look over his face and nod, letting his words sink in. The walk was short and quiet, but you didn't mind; the weather was lovely.

Walking into the apartment, you slip your shoes off, and he wanders further into the apartment. 

"Y/N! Come here! I have something to show you!" he calls out to you. 

Taking in a deep breath, you walk to his voice and see him sitting on the couch with books and notebooks on the back of the couch and floor, a laptop on the coffee table, and a gift bag on the floor. Tilting your head, you slide your head phones into your backpack and bite at your lower lip. 

"Yes? What is all this?" You ask with a soft voice. 

"Okay, so I've been doing some research, some thinking, some serious digging. I picked up some of your habits, and Billy kind of smacked me upside the head, Frenchie laughted at me, and MM told me I needed to look into some things. So... sit...sit..." He pats the empty cushion next to him. "Okay, so you know how you do this little happy wiggle thing? How you like girly things but don't really wanna be girly? How you're always putting things in your mouth, the change in your voice...." He just kept going. You take a deep breath and chuckle.

"Hughie, are you trying to tell me you researched me?"

"Yes... that." He turns the screen and noticed you had posted something on Fetlife a long while ago about DD/lg, good and bad, do's and don'ts. "What exactly is this....?" 

Letting out a heavy breath, you chuckle. Hughie looks over at you and chuckles, then shakes his head. "What? Did I do something bad like posted in there? I need to understand this."

"No, Hughie, you didn't do anything wong. Honestly, it's fuckin' adorable. You actually researched me... and then found me where I never expected you to... Umm. How do I even begin to explain this." You take a moment and pull your legs up on the couch to sit cross-legged. Thinking as to how you're going to explain it, you close the laptop and place the books and notebooks on the table, you turn to face him. "Okay, so every little is different, and every daddy, is also different. No one is the same. Let me ask you this... What do you think being a Daddy or a Care Giver means?" You ask him. 

Taking a brief moment to think, he looks at you and gives you this perplexed look. "Well, taking care of you, holding your hand when crossing the street, bath times. Brushing your hair, sometimes helping you brush your teeth, helping you get dressed, cuddles and cartoons, reminding you to drink your water, but to use both hands. Cutting crusts off your sandwiches, and making sure they're in triangle cuts, treats, and visits to the toy store. Making sure you're safe, and healthy, and umm... well there's more but am I close?" He asks you.

Looking over his face, you give him a smile and a nod biting your lip, tilting your head, looking over his face, and you point. "What's in the bag?"

"Oh... umm... Can I learn to be your Daddy? It'll be a learning curve, but I mean..." He picks up the bag and hands it to you.

Opening the bag you see a stuffed lamb and inside is a card, tilting your head again you open the card. Clearly a Valentine's Day card that says "Can You Be Mine?" But instead he crossed it out and says. "Can I Be Your Daddy?" He chuckles. "There's no market for those kinda cards... so ya know? Improvization." He gave a nervous chuckle. 

"You're so fuckin cute." You chuckle and throw your arms around his neck after grabbing the stuffy and kiss his cheek. After pulling back a bit you nod. "Okay Daddy... Feed me, I'm hungry... and Powerpuff Girls please." You nod handing him the remote with a grin.

#Hughie Campbell imagine #Hughie Campbell x you #Hughie Campbell x reader #Hughie Campbell headcanon #The Boys Fanfiction #Hughie Campbell #Hughie Campbell is daddy #Hughie Campbell fanfiction #Hughie Campbell fluff #Hughie Campbell angst #Hughie Campbell smut #Hughie Campbell x female reader #Hughie Campbell drabble #Jack Quaid #The Boys #Smutty Smut Smut #Smut Under The Cut #tellingyouastory

[tawneybel]

Note: Still gotta watch season three. 

Imagine Translucent going over to the electronics store to interrogate Hughie, then noticing you casually giving your coworker “a hand” behind the counter. 

Most people wouldn’t be able to tell by your totally relaxed, nonchalant expression. Or Hughie’s preoccupied one, staring straight at a screen. But to a professional voyeur...

Okay, Translucent could wait a while to kick Hughie’s ass. You’re pretty cute.

#Translucent #Hughie Campbell #The Boys #imagine #smut #minors do not interact #invisibility #scopophilia #invisibility kink #voyeur. #voyeurism. #handjob. #Amazon The Boys #The Boys Amazon #Alex Hassell #Jack Quaid #villain #supervillain #dark comedy #The Boys franchise #minors don’t interact #minors DNI #MDNI #The Boys imagine #Translucent imagine #Hughie Campbell imagine #Alex Hassell imagine #Jack Quaid imagine #villain imagine #supervillain imagine

[jsmuts]

I hope nobody hears me gagging between the chanting

#Jack Quaid #imagine #gay

[blortch]

As far as the nepotism thing goes, I kinda agree with Mike. It might get your foot in the door, but if you're not good, no one is going to keep you around, in any industry. Like his example of Jack Quaid, I had no idea who his parents were when I first saw The Boys, and I can't imagine anyone else as Hughie.

He was arguing about genetics, and as far as genetics go I'd say that well. You're going to look a little bit like your parents and if your parents have that Conventional Look Hollywood Wants then it's likely you'll have it too and it'd be easier for you to get in. But that's the furthest I'd go from that angle, I don't know much about passing down actual skill, I'm not an expert.

As far as I understand, from my psych classes, in terms of instincts/skills you inherit very little which kinda makes humans stand out when compared to other animals, who are very instinct-based. Human Brains are designed, for better or worse, to learn the vast majority of the things they need to survive as they go along, as they are taught, which leaves room for a high variety in skills possible to be learnt. Mike mentioned himself too like just bringing the skill or that life close to that child could be impactful which, yeah, parents Teach Things and Talk about their jobs etc. to their kids. Usually.

For sure there's access/connection to Hollywood through them that I heavily, heavily doubt you can access otherwise no matter how good you are in lots of cases. A couple stars need to align for nepotism babies, as you say, but a lot less than for the average person.

I don't think it's right to imply that nepo babies are more deserving of the places they fill for the reason that they "have it in their blood", because 1. you're doing a disservice to them if you happen to care about them in saying that they didn't put much effort into it, it just Came to them because Talent Running in Family 2. I believe with my whole heart in that one quote that says, in essence (i forgot the exact wording), that scientists as good, or better, as Einstein have lived and died in poverty working in fields. This quote's point isn't to say that scientists are the epitome of intelligence there is, but rather that there's been brilliant people all over that have been denied opportunities, connections and support. An unbelievable amount of people have been barred from developing their abilities as they wish, and utilizing their skills as they wish.

I've been trying to word what I want to say concerning this topic ever since I saw on tumblr that Mike had said something 'controversial' on nepotism. For sure what he said has pissed me off far less than other things they've done (see: their treatment of the Amber Heard trial) just because the points were presented kind of confusing and all over the place.

I'm not big into the whole celebrity thing, but as Mike and Jay said nepotism is present in just about any industry so I had. Some Thoughts on it.

#mike #jay #blortchmod #you cant imagine anyone else as hughie. really #ah yes that bland paper mache character that nobody else can do #dont start scanning through actor names to see who can replace him #think about the fact that there's somebody that you don't know that would also work for the role #dont take this the wrong way that line in your ask was just odd to me #this isn't to argue either that jack quaid shouldn't have had that role

[gothicknightz]

family ties pt. 3 | ethan landry

notes: ahhhhhhhh im gonna miss writing for this series, so here’s a little post family ties service for you guys! scream spoilers utc.

finale tags: @callsignwidow​

After the current events that had shadowed her past life, (y/n) dropped out of Blackmore, not knowing if she would be able to handle the school’s atmosphere after she and her friends literally had gotten attacked there.

What was worse than her not going back, was the fact that her life would never be normal again. Nothing would ever be the same, and it would have to go on like that from there.

No more normal.

As she sat in her hospital room, she watched as the news reported on the Ghostface killings that just had occurred in and around Blackmore University, pulling her legs to her chest as she felt the feelings beginning to overwhelm her.

“Among the bodies found were the New York Police Department’s own Detective Wayne Bailey, alongside nineteen-year-old Blackmore University students Quinn Bailey and Ethan Landry.” 

The tears started to fall rapidly down (y/n)’s face at the mention of her dead fiance, knowing that she had lost the one person that truly ever loved her, besides her sister. 

There was nobody to console her anymore, as both of her parents cut contact with her after finding out that her boyfriend was related to the other killer of the Woodsboro attacks in 2022. 

After the death of her sister Amber, all (y/n) had left was Ethan.

Now that he was dead as well, she had nothing to turn to anymore.

“It is reported that the Detective and the two students were related, being the family of Richie Kirsch, one of the killers in the Woodsboro Massacre of 2022.”

(y/n) wished that this was all a dream, that Sam and Tara had finally gotten what they deserved for the deaths of Richie and Amber, and that her father and sister-in-law were successful in killing the Carpenter sisters and survived. 

She wished that Ethan was still alive.

“Also being rumoured tonight, is that the sole survivor of this ‘Ghostface Family’ is none other than (y/n) Freeman, who is the sister of Amber Freeman, the other known killer of the Woodsboro Massacre in 2022. Online, there was a circulation that Ethan and (y/n) were engaged and that-”

(y/n) quickly shook her head; this wasn’t real, they weren’t reporting on her private life, they didn’t know that yet, how could they have possibly known that? Only Sam and Tara knew, and that was at the big reveal, nobody else knows.

(y/n) ran her hands through her hair as the reporting didn’t stop, the world was getting too close to knowing who she really was and what her involvement was with the killings; she needed to get out of here, she needed to run, she needed to-

“(y/n)?”

(y/n) quickly whipped her head around to see a very much alive Ethan, which she didn’t believe in the slightest; regardless, she jumped out of her bed and ran to him instantly and hugged him.

He felt real, but why didn’t it seem right?

“Ethan?” She stuttered out of shock, “H-how are you alive? T-They... You’re supposed to be dead!”

As Ethan chuckled, a small smile appeared on his face as he cupped (y/n)’s face in his hand, “Dead?” He questioned, stepping closer to her, “Do you know what’s easier than getting away with murder?”

Closing the gap between them, Ethan leaned in to kiss (y/n) passionately, the second kiss coming off as softer than the first.

“Cheating death.”

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

“Come on! She’s been having these dreams for months now, sis. I should be the expert in ghosts, here!”

“I know. But still. It’s normal for someone like her. Doesn’t that Carpenter girl still see visions of her dad?”

“I wish I had visions of her dad.”

“Can’t you be serious for once? She’s part of the same messed up family we are in!”

(y/n) groaned as she sat up, glancing at the photo she printed out of when Richie captured the perfect shot of Ethan proposing to her, the engagement ring beside it on her nightstand.

Sighing, she slowly got up and walked out into the kitchen, meeting the two pairs of eyes that saved her.

“There’s the final girl!”

The person who spoke earned an elbow to the stomach after their comment, then clutching over onto the counter dramatically, moaning.

“That hurt!”

“Yeah, well so did losing her boyfriend.” She turned back over to (y/n), “How you doing sweetie? Still having dreams of him?”

(y/n) nodded solemnly as she tucked various strands of hair behind her ears, “I refuse to give him up. Tara and Sam should be the ones dead. Not him.”

The woman sighed as she understood the girl’s pain, “I know. When my son got murdered by your sister, I was mad at first, but after what happened to you, I lightened up. Just a bit.”

“Do you know where they are now?”

“The holidays are coming up soon. You might catch them back in New York for Christmas.”

“They’re not traumatized?” (y/n) said in disbelief, smiling a bit, “I think by now they would be traumatized. Two Ghostface killings, dead lovers, killing my entire family and my baby Ethan.”

She watched a grin form on the other’s face, glancing at the fridge, swearing she had seen Ethan just standing there.

“Is Sidney going to be there this time?” She had asked, out of sheer curiosity.

“I think so. Gale too.”

“Ooh!” The other had exclaimed, “It’s gonna be a real fiesta, sis!”

The woman tutted before shaking her head, “Not this time. We have to let the girl practice, Stu.”

“But can’t he give me a briefing on Ghostface 101? It wouldn’t be the perfect revenge plan without at least some schooling, Leslie.”

Leslie eventually gave in and sighed, “Alright,” walking to the fridge, she grabbed a beer, “You can give her a couple of tips on killing people. But do not let it get too far.”

“Okay! You’re gonna love it, (y/n), I gotta thank you for getting my mask back.” Stu paused, getting all giddy and nostalgic again, “I’ll be right back!” He had said dramatically, before running off to his room.

Looking into the black hallway, she watched as Ethan attempted to say an ‘I love you’ with his hands, to which (y/n) had responded out loud.

“I love you more.”

(so what did you guys think??? this wasn’t my actual original plan lol. also what is your stance on the stu still being alive theory? + also (y/n) has visions of ethan now; thoughts?)

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #jack champion #jack quaid #amber freeman #detective wayne bailey #quinn bailey #richie kirsch #liana liberato #mikey madison #dermot mulroney #tara carpenter #sam carpenter #jenna ortega #melissa barrera #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #mason gooding #jasmin savoy brown #stu macher #leslie macher #matthew lillard #sidney prescott #neve campbell #gale weathers #courtney cox #vince macher #kyle gallner #scream

[yourmomxx]

SPOILERS for THE BOYS SEASON 3 part1 without context:

#the boys #the boys season 3 #the boys season 3 spoilers #the boys prime #amazon prime original #billy butcher #soldier boy #the boys imagine #karl urban #jensen ackles #Karl urban imagine #jensen ackles imagine #hughie campbell #hughie campbell imagine #the deep #homelander #black noir #jack quaid #anthony starr #kimiko #frenchie #mothers milk #starlight #annie january #erin moriarty #chace crawford

[faeymouse]

slightly obvious unhinged character bingo: Brad Boimler :D

{@system-operator}

Eee, thank you!

Out of the entire Lower Decks crew I feel like Boimler is the most... hinged?... but this show also loves to torture my boy and much like Mariner I'm ready to fight anyone for him in a heartbeat. I want him to achieve everything he sets out to do. He's awkward but capable, funny but lame, genuine to the upteenth degree, and he rocks purple hair. Biggest same.

#ask game answers #system-operator #unhinged character bingo #star trek lower decks #brad boimler #the decision to have jack quaid play him was perfect #even if im constantly fighting the urge to just imagine it's huey from the boys #(although brad and huey are basically the same dude. Jack Quaid typecast i guess?)

[the-imaginative-hobbyist]

Oppenheimer(2023) by The Imaginative Hobbyist.

#oppenheimer #art #the imaginative hobbyist #artist #digital art #fan art #artwork #film #ramimalek #cillian murphy #robert downey jr #emily blunt #matt damon #sir kenneth branagh #kenneth branagh #gary oldman #matthew modine #david krumholtz #jack quaid #florence pugh #christopher nolan