Imagine Doing The WIRED Autocomplete Interview With Your Husband, Robert, And Getting Asked Very Often

Imagine doing the WIRED autocomplete interview with your husband, Robert, and getting asked very often about your relationship with co-star and friend, Bradley Cooper. Only for your husband to get jealous.

“And the last one, I feel like no matter how prepared I say I am for some of these, I always end up surprised, so-” you cleared your throat and looked down at the board “Is Robert Downey Jr-” you read on the image that was the google search for your husband before pealing the sticker “The little spoon or the big spoon? This, wow!”

You both immediately burst into laughter, your husband clapping his hands and muttering “Amazing. It’s amazing!”

“This contains the most popular searches right?” you spoke, looking at the crew around you and behind the cameras “I wonder who ever googled this. Who, like, woke up and said ‘Hey, you know what I wanna find out today? If Robert Downey Jr is the little spoon, man! I bet that would be interesting!’ why would you ever-” you shook your head with a laugh.

“Alright, first of all-” Robert spoke, a good few seconds of trying to recover from his laughing fit “Let’s make something clear, shall we? We are not making fun of little spoons. Absolutely no fun. There is no shame in it, and I as a proud cuddler, cannot and will not judge big or little spoons in any way. Cuddling is fun and it makes you warm and happy, you should be proud of yourself if you are a good cuddler. However, that being said-” he put on a serious face and looked at the camera “I’m a knife.”

You looked at your husband then at the camera with a blank expression before shaking your head with a small roll of your eyes and added only three seconds after him “He’s the little spoon.”

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This way people can see they’re not alone. I have them and this would help me see that.

Drunken Night

Summary: you come home drunk and both your brothers are home watching a movie.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Sister!Reader

You slip into the house thinking that your parents are asleep upstairs and nobody else is home. You had just been dropped off by a friend’s boyfriend after going to a wild party at Kayla Michael’s house to celebrate the end of finals which means the end of senior year. Her parents weren’t home and some college kids showed up as well since they also finished up their finals. The party obviously had alcohol (thankfully no drugs) and you of course decided to indulge a bit since you weren’t the designated driver.

“Y/n?” Chris said seeing you trying not to fall heading to the stairs.

“I’m not drunk,” you slurred pushing your back against the front door.

He can’t help but grin. His little baby sister is drunk off her ass. He did a lot worse shit than just getting drunk at a party and come home at 1am. It is amusing to see you this way since you’re a pretty good and mellow teenager.

“I didn’t ask you that,” Chris said.

“Jus’ wanted to let ya know,” you said.

He comes over to you and grabs your hand.

“Let’s get your shoes off,” Chris said.

You nod. He has you sit on the stairs. He places his beer down on the step and he unknowingly put it in your reach. He starts unlacing your converse. You start taking a swig from the bottle. It tastes awful but you don’t care.

“Chris,” Scott said.

Chris looks up and snatches the bottle from your hands. You gasped in shock and Chris hands the bottle to Scott.

“What a dick,” you slurred looking at your other brother.

“You’re so fucking drunk,” Scott chuckled quietly.

“No, I’m not,” you denied.

“You smell like tequila, Y/n,” Chris said.

You grabbed him by his ears and pull his head forward. You take a big whiff of his hair. You pull back and look him in the eyes.

“You smell like... lies,” you whispered cupping his bearded face into your hands. “And Tea Tree shampoo.”

They both just lose it and you lean back amused with yourself. Chris cups your face and looks at you all serious.

“You’re drunk, Y/n,” he whispered.

You gasped in disbelief and shook your head no. He slips off your shoes and then stands up. He pulls you up onto your feet. You wobble a bit but Chris keeps you steady.

“C’mon, bubs, lets get you to bed,” Chris said.

“As long as you read me a bedtime story,” you said.

“Okay,” he said.

He follows you up the stairs and to your room. He turns on the light and opens up one of draws. He grabs you a pair of athletic shorts that you always wear around the house. You plopped down on your bed and Chris hands you the shorts. He spins around as you switch out your ripped skinny jeans for the shorts. It’s a difficult task even when sober but you did it.

“Good, lets get you under the covers,” Chris said moving under the blankets.

You lay back and Scott comes in with your makeup wipes. He closes the door and comes over. He hands Chris a wipe.

“Bitch!” You slurred. “You gotta be gentle and- and go in circle motions. I thought you knew this shit —you wear more makeup than I do.”

“Okay, Princess,” Chris said and he does what you say.

“I’m a fucking queen— nah, a king,” you announced closing your eyes.

“Why’s that?” Chris asked with hand holding the top of your head and the other wiping away the makeup.

“I infiltrated the patriarchy and BAAAA! I’m a motherfuckin’ kiiiiiiiiing,” you said.

“Shhhhhhh,” both brother said.

You whined and pouted.

“You gotta be quiet, Bubba,” Chris whispered. “Mom and Dad are sleeping.”

“They’re probably fuckin’,” you whispered. “I’ve heard them before with the bed squeakin’.”

“Ewwwww,” Scott cringed.

“It’s okay, I’m already scarred,” you slurred.

“Hush,” Chris whispered softly as he finishes up wiping all the makeup off your face.

“It’s really traumatizing,” you said looking at him.

“I know,” Chris said.

He puts the wipe into the trash and climbs into the bed beside you. You move his arm and tuck yourself under it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever have sex,” you slurred. “It sounds painful.”

“Jesus,” Scott cringed plopping down at the foot of the bed.

Chris puts a hand over your mouth and said, “we aren’t talking about sex with you.”

“Then where’s my bedtime story?” You asked with your voice muffled a bit. “Nobody does it for me anymore. I have to do it myself..... It’s kinda sad.”

“Scott, grab a book,” Chris said seeing you get teary eyed.

Scott sighs and heads off to the bunk room where all the nieces and nephews stay along with where you have sleepovers in. There should be a couple books in the room for Chris to read to you.

“Don’t go crying on me, Y/n. I don’t want you to be sad,” Chris said smoothing out your hair a bit.

“I’m too drunk to be sad,” you said.

“Okay,” he said not believing your words.

Your face tells a completely different story. Scott comes in with Don’t Let The Pigeon Drive The Bus. Chris easily reads it aloud to you and it doesn’t take long for you to be out completely. Both your brothers smile at each other.

“Grab the markers,” Chris whispered.

Everybody shut up and look at him

Florence and the Machine – No Choir