#C! Jimmy x reader

[lunar-writes-things]

Powered By Redstone (And Love)

Pairing: C! Tangotek x reader, C!Solidarity Gaming x Reader, C! Tangotek x C!Solidarity Gaming

Summary: In which you dive into a death game and find love within it (And how to make fire-resistant shirts)

Genre: Fluff, pure heart-melting tooth-rotting fluff 

Words: 3.4k

Extra notes: This was based off of @lunarcrown's comic!!! Go check them out they are amazing and fuel my rancher duo needs <3 Also I looped 'Golden Hour' by JVKE while I wrote most of this so If you want ot listen to that while you read, feel free too!

Content warnings (If any): None

"Y/n!" Grian exclaimed. He was on his knees trying to beg you to join his new server and you sat declining

'Double Life' he called it

It was a death game, everyone knew that and even if your home server was FAR from nice, you at least had more than three lives to live. 

"Grian, if I join, then the number will be uneven. Do you have another person to make it even?"  You asked softly and brought Grian from off the ground 

"Well yes, but they haven't answered yet." Grian said, "They should answer before it starts though!" 

You let out a sigh and said "Fine. I'll Join." 

"Yes!" Grian said under his breath "I promise you won't regret it! You'll love it! There are thrills, guts, and glory!" 

"I'm sure it will be wonderful. Maybe I'll meet a life partner there. Who knows?" You entertained the avian but somewhere deep inside you actually hoped your words come true

=====

When the time came, you quickly walked out of your home server, it was mainly dead anyway but there were rumors that there would be an activity minimum for it, and into the new server. It was there where you were met with everyone else and you began to count

15... 

There were 15 people on the server including you. 

"Y/n!" Grian smiled and walked to you "You're the last one on!" 

"You said there wouldn't be an uneven number!" Y/n said and grabbed the avian by his shoulders and shook him 

"Mum- bo- could- n't- Jo- in-" Grian said as you shook him and soon escaped your grasps with a breath of relief 

"It'll be fine, Y/n." Scott came up to you "All it means is that the code will match one of us to an already existing couple." 

You lean into him with a pout and say "I hope I'm at least paired with you. I know literally no one else except for you and Grian." 

"You need to meet some new people." Scott said, "I mean, I see a pretty canary staring straight at you."

When Scott said that he dragged your eyes from his to another man. One who flushed a bright red once he realized he was caught looking at you and you held back a coo. With beautiful chocolate brown eyes shining in the sun, golden hair and wings fluttering and being ruffled with the wind, and the gorgeous flush across his face, you murmured 

"I wouldn't mind being paired with that cutie." 

"Our resident canary in a coal mine." Scott murmured "Jimmy's got this weird thing where he's the first out every season. Maybe you can change that." 

"I don't know. I think he's fine just the way he is. I mean I'm here for a good time not a long time." You winked at the cyan-haired male 

Soon their attention was directed to grian who explained what was going on and what would be happening and the group split their separate ways. 

Hours later, you were very grateful you came back to spawn to scope out some places to live because one minute you were walking under the spawn trees, and then next there was a sharp pain in your right side, ringing, and then it stopped. 

<Tango> was blown up by a creeper 

<Y/ndoesthings> died

<SolidarityGaming> died

When you opened your eyes, you were in a tree and there was a shrill voice going "WHAT HAPPENED TANGO?!" and a dull pain rushed into your ankle, someone must have jumped down from their tree

"Is Everyone okay?" You asked and saw both tango and Jimmy

"Oh! Hi! Hi- I'm so sorry!" He cried out and placed his face in his hands to hide 

"Take me through it, What- What's happened there?" Jimmy asked 

"There was some caving and then there might have been about seven zombies and a spider and- You're being butted!" Tango said, still atop one of the many trees at spawn. 

Jimmy was the one that jumped down and was currently holding his stomach from being headbutted by a stay goat. Tango jumped down and You followed his lead. Once you were down from your tree you went up to each of the boys and asked 

"Is everyone okay?" 

The two nodded in response and you used both of your hands to cup one of their cheeks, which is a touch they melted into. Once you let go, they continued with their conversation and You went to grab your things, which were thankfully only like 10 feet away. Once you came back, tango was apologizing again and Jimmy is pacing around. 

"All right, let's go meet up in a bit, I need to go grab my stuff before it despawns!" He said 

"I don't even know where I was!" Tango realized "I just lost everything, yeah- I have no idea where I was." 

"You two go and try to get your things back. If anything, come back here and I'll have extra supplies for you guys." Y/n spoke up and placed a gentle hand on both of their shoulders "I snagged a bunch of iron so don't worry for now. just try and grab your things." 

But your words were barely heard as the boys panicked and laughed. After a minute, Jimmy and Tango decided to head up on a tree for a better leverage point to look. You followed the two boys as they talked and made what they needed for a hiding spot in case they die again. 

Once they did that (and tango placed a stick in to claim it), Jimmy went his separate way and left Y/n and Tango together. 

"How are you feeling?" You asked softly 

"Guilty," Tango admitted and his shoulders slumped "this was the worst way to meet me- to meet us." 

"Maybe," You hummed gently and picked a stray Daisy and gave it to the man, the piping hot blaze rods burning brighter as Tango took it and flushed a pink "But we didn't have to find each other by running around like headless chickens and while we might be yellows now, I don't think I'd rather be yellow with anyone else." 

Tango made a flustered noise and You could help but find it so endearing. This man, who was at least a good two feet taller than you, was burning bright red, golden hair flickering as if it were going to burst into flames and smoke coming off his back. 

Actually, now that you looked at him you noticed he wore a tight-fitting black crop top (that did wonders for his lean figure hubba hubba-) that had dipped down into a point to connect and clip onto his black cargo pants with cuffs around his wrists and the top of his bicep but the ones around his wrists were loose and had short chains dangling from them. 

When you finally looked at his face, Ruby red eyes glittered with amusement and an open mouth smirked and showed off sharp canine teeth. 

"Like what you see?" He grinned and you swatted at him 

"Yeah, you look fine as hell," you winked and he laughed 

=====

Hours later, Jimmy came back with nothing and a disappointed face only to find out you had a chest full of items for him ready and to see that you and Tango were suited up in Iron gear. 

"What-" He said and You saw his shoulders sag "How-" 

"Check the chest Jimmy," You said and watched as he opened it 

Sunlight beamed onto his face, blinding him for a second. 

"My bad, probably a bad idea to face the opening of the chest to face where the sun is shining. It was supposed to be for dramatic effect though." Tango said and turned the chest away from the sun and spilled all the goods inside. Iron armor, a diamond pickaxe and sword, food, and small trinkets the two had piled up for Jimmy fell from the chest. 

"is- Is all this for me?" he asked softly and knelt to the ground and grabbed the sword with a shakey touch and his eyes shone with unshed tears "Why- You didn't have-" 

"We wanted to. It's not much but we hope you enjoy it." You smiled and kneeled in front of him "Most of it I already had in my inventory so..."

"Y/n actually put the whole chest together," Tango pointed out with a satisfied smirk, and watched as a bashful flush spread across their cheeks and to their ears "They thought of the idea and organized everything. I just added in two things you might've liked." 

"Would it be too early in our relationship to kiss you two?" Jimmy asked, eyes glittering like topaz with the sun shining its golden rays on his already sunkissed skin

"I wouldn't think so," You smiled and cupped his face with both of your hands to pull him into a gentle kiss, electricity burning through you when your lips brushed against his, Tango coming up beside you to steal Jimmy away for another soft kiss to his lips and to press a chaste one against yours. 

Jimmy tasted like bubblegum and Tango tasted like cinnamon.

You just found your two new favorite flavors. 

=====

A day or so later, the home you and Tango had been constructed and Jimmy had brought in cows and some other essential things needed. 

The three of you deemed yourself, The Ranchers.

A silly nickname but you can't bring yourself to protest as Jimmy and Tango have their hearts set on making a monopoly on getting some farm animals and how can you say no to your Ruby and Topaz? 

Your precious jewels...  Oh how you love them so. 

As the three of you took a break though, Jimmy asked about Tango's choice of shirt wear. 

He wore crop tops like there weren't any left in the world

And there wasn't anything wrong with it, in fact, both Jimmy and You had admitted to the man that you loved the fact that he showed off his lean and slender frame and his tummy in general. 

Although, there were multiple times where Jimmy has been extremely flustered at the sight of Tango.

Once, When tango was doing his redstone while you and Jimmy were watching, the blaze hybrid has asked for a comparator and while You were drooling over him, Jimmy grabbed a bucket and attempted to give it to the man. 

"Jimmy," Tango said as he perched his red goggles on his head "That's a bucket." 

With those words, The avian flushed a bright red and placed the bucket upside down on his head, and bolted having You and Tango run after him laughing and attempting to calm him down. 

He was wearing his favorite shirt then, just like he was now. 

"Powered by Redstone" 

That had to be one of Tango's favorite phrases, especially when he's planning out his next masterpiece for his other dimension. 

At least he thinks. 

He doesn't quite remember, no one does. He says it's blurry and that he knows he was working on some huge build that needs a lot of redstone and attention but he can't quite remember what. He barely remembers friendships and relationships from people except those that are in this game right now. 

The game was fun like that. it gives you an almost entirely blank slate, but it keeps important things and fears near your heart. 

But you never would have thought you'd find love in a death game.

Sure it had only been a few days and it may be the red string of fate connecting you two but it felt so real and You know you would do this a thousand times over if you'd be able to feel like this again in your home server. 

"yeah- Actually this shirt was once full length," Tango broke through your daze and you focus on him, He's gripping the bottom of his 'Powered by Redstone" crop, and a blaze rod is hovering over his shoulder when He says "But sometimes by blaze rods catch stuff and-" 

And The shirt was up in flames before fluttering to the floor, a pile of ashes that was once his favorite shirt. 

"AWWW MAN!" Tango whined as Jimmy looked away, face flushed the same shade as Tango's eyes and You oogled at the bare chest of Tango with a satisfied hum

But as much as you liked the show, You knew you'd have to talk with Jimmy later about this situation. Tango was already making a pout and sad noises escaped his lips. You couldn't bare to see the blaze hybrid like that. 

=====

Hours later, in the dead of night, You whispered to the Avian in his ear "Jimmy? My Darling Topaz? Are you up?" 

"Yes, my Love?" Jimmy groaned quietly and suddenly you were thankful, the both of them insisted you lay in the middle of your shared bed and that Tango sleeps like the dead "Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine Topaz, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to do something for our Ruby. I feel bad that he lost his favorite shirt." You whisper and pull him close enough so that your lips brush the shell of his ear. A shiver ran down his back and he nodded. 

"We could recreate his shirt again," Jimmy said and began to press soft kisses to your face "This time with a more durable fabric?" 

"That works," You hummed and cupped his face to press a soft kiss to his lips "We can talk more about it in the morning. I love you My amazing Topaz."  

"And I love you, My precious diamond." He whispered into your mouth, never stopping his gentle kisses and you couldn't help but melt into his touch 

The next day, You awoke to Jimmy and Tango holding you tightly and you sighed with contentment, how you wish you could stay here all day, but the gods of old had other plans. 

So you squirmed out of their arms, both shifting to hold each other and the pillow between them as if you were still there. You smiled and went to the kitchen to make a simple breakfast. Snagging some eggs from the chickens you guys are hoarding and carving some bacon off the carcass of a pig you slaughtered this morning, you made some bacon and egg and cut up some day-old bread for toast. 

Jimmy was the first one up of the boys and watched as Y/n plated the breakfast as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his bare chest, a soft smile gracing his lips. 

"Good morning Topaz," You hummed and smiled at him before placing his plate on the table "Go eat, I'll wake up our ruby."

"You are the best," he said and pressed a kiss to your cheek "We can talk more about the shirt after breakfast when Tango goes out?" 

"Alright," You smiled and placed a gentle hand on his chest before pressing a kiss to his lips "Enjoy." 

You walked past him after he kissed back and went to wake up Tango. 

"My lovely Ruby," You whisper in his ear as you crawl on top of him to sit on his waist "Time to wake up Tango, I made breakfast." 

Tango groaned softly as his eyes fluttered open. Twin red jewels stared back into your eyes as a smile graced Tango's lips and he pulled you down to smother you in kisses, laughs bubbled from your chest as you playfully fought from his grip. 

After a few seconds when he calmed down to just kisses, you heard his stomach rumble and he laughed. 

"I think that's my cue to eat the breakfast you made," He said and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to get off "Come, Topaz is waiting." 

"He's only waiting because you pulled me in to smother me!" You playfully whine out and allow him to drag you off the bed you share

After breakfast, Tango cleaned up the kitchen and Jimmy lit the fireplace. Y/n pulled Jimmy to dance with her while Tango cleaned and listened to their hushed giggles, They swayed in the warmth of their home, Jimmy humming into your ear as the sun dawned upon their home and the rooster crowed. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Tango watching from the kitchen with a gentle smile as he dried his hands and you beckoned him over. He and Jimmy switched spots and you swayed with Tango who whispered sweet words into your ears and eventually dragged Jimmy into the swaying, The three of you holding each other and talking softly. At least until Tango had to leave the house and You and Jimmy were left to your own devices. 

"Okay," Y/n murmured and caught Jimmy's attention, "I know where to find and how to get fire resistance clothing. Only thing is, I don't know how to sew words." 

"I can do that part," Jimmy said "It should be just like weaving a nest. Plus, my mom taught me how before I left her home." 

"Perfect," You grinned at him "You are so great Jimmy." 

A wobbly smile spread across his face as he flushed and covered his face with his hands. "You're too nice to me." He groaned softly which elicited a laugh from you 

"No such thing as ever too nice. Now, let's get Tango's present together." You smile and hold out your hand to him 

=====

Hours later, Tango came home calling out to the two who sat in the living room that he was going to take a shower and then probably nap. You and Jimmy sat on a rocking chair, you on Jimmy's lap reading and Jimmy rocking the chair, humming and peacefully stretching the words 'Powered by Redstone' into the shirt. 

"Hey, Jimmy!" Tango's voice called out but the two were in their own world "Do you know where-" 

Tango trailed off as he peeked into the living room and almost melted at the sight of his two lovers sitting together, his gems...

His home

A soft gasp snapped Tango out of his stupor and bring his gaze back to his partners. You were clutching something to your chest and using your body to hide it while jimmy tried to cover you and himself with his wings while exclaiming "Wait no! Wait! Don't look! It's not done!" 

"Aww," Tango cooed and stepped closer to you and Jimmy "What is it?" 

With a deep sigh, Jimmy unfurled his wings and showed you. You held out the shirt with a bashful expression while Jimmy explained "You were so sad after your favorite shirt got destroyed. So we thought we'd make you a new one." 

Tango looked taken aback and turned red and you and jimmy immediately panicked. 

"Oh god, you hate it!" You frowned and fiddled with your hands "I'm sorry, this was my idea and it was such a bad-" 

"I don't know why I thought-" Jimmy cut himself off as he pouted and began to cover himself with his wings, an embarrassed blush spreading across his cheeks "I'm not even that good-" 

This time Taango cut off Jimmy by lifting you up and kissing you... hard. Hard enough that you were dazed and had to stumble to another couch. Tango pulled Jimmy up by the collar of his shirt and kissed him with the same passion he kissed you with. Now that you were less dazed, you saw smoke rising from Tango's back in curls that looked like hearts and his red flush was still there and Jimmy's wings were flapping like crazy once he realized what was happening. 

When he pulled away from Jimmy, He kept the avian close, his left arm wrapping around Jimmy's waist. "Come here Y/n," Tango whispered and you obliged 

When you came close enough, he pulled you closer and wrapped his free arm around your waist, and pressed another kiss to your lips. You melted into his touch and leaned your forehead into the crook of his neck while he whispered

"I love it. It means so much to me that you two did this." He pressed a gentle kiss to yours and Jimmy's foreheads before continuing "Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you." 

#C!Tangotek #C!SolidarityGaming #double life tango #double life jimmy #double life smp #traffic smp #life series #tangotek x reader #tango x reader #C!Tango x reader #jimmy solidarity #double life solidarity #Jimmy Solidarity x reader #jimmy x reader #C! Jimmy x reader #Luna Has Written #Solidarity x reader #Solidarity gaming x reader

[writeawaythepain]

That Funny Feeling

Jimmy Solidarity x (gn!reader)

…Hey! I’m not dead! And I finally have the urge to write again! Hope you enjoy my spiral into a new fandom!

tw: self-deprecating thoughts, angst (don’t worry there’s a fluff at the end)

Word count: 1.7k

Prompts:

“You are worthy of love and friends and respect.”

"why do you care!" "because i’m in love with you!"

Summary:

You walk in on Jimmy having beef with a fence post, and though you're not really surprised, you wonder if he’s dealing with more pain than just that of his injured foot. Includes you giving the poor guy a much needed hug, and a slip-up that lets him in on how much you really care about him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You don’t think you’ve ever really seen Jimmy upset…not really. He never minded being the butt of any joke, laughing along at any jab or insult. He didn’t mind if people made fun of him as long as it made someone laugh at the end. He was selfless like that. You were always a little bit jealous of his resilience, and maybe that’s why you always thought of him as almost…invincible.

So, when one day you came to check up on how the Sheriff’s new building was going, you were surprised to see that barely any progress had been done. It actually…seemed like he’d torn parts of it down. You approached slowly, taking in the half done walls and foundation, a door frame without a door, and started to look for him. 

Before you can even call out to him, though, you see the back of a familiar blonde cowboy. A cowboy who was seemingly talking to himself. “No- come on Jim! You know you can do better at this- you just gotta… just gotta…” He stops, clenching his fists and yelling out in frustration. “It’s not that hard!” He emphasizes the last word by kicking a rickety fence post, but it must have been sturdier than he expected because he instantly flinched back, grabbing his foot and crying out in pain.

The whole sight was almost cartoonish, with him wearing his cowboy hat and boots, so you couldn’t help but snicker even as you reached out your hand in concern. “Oh my god Jimmy, are you ok?” You can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face, but it wavers slightly as you approach him and notice…are those tears in his eyes? He quickly wipes his face, replacing his frustrated look with an excited smile. 

“Oh hi! I didn’t even see you there! Me and this fence post are having beef, actually- See, it won’t do what I tell it to, and make my stuff look good so I was reminding ‘em who's in charge round here!” He laughs a little as he says it, his smile so bright you're inclined to believe him…it wasn’t quite reaching his eyes though, and you still wonder if the kick hurt him more than he was letting on.

“Yea, you really showed him!” You try to mirror his energy, shaking off some of your worries as he replies in his usual chipper tone.

“Yea I did!” He laughs but then slightly turns away from you. “Listen uh…you know I always love having you around. You’re welcome anytime! But uh…I really have a- a thing I gotta do and…” Your smile drops as you see him wince a little as he puts his weight on the foot he ‘beat up’ the fence post with.

“Hey Jimmy, is your foot ok?” You walk up to him, concerned. “Maybe you should sit down-“

“Nah I’m fine…probably anyway.” He laughs like it’s a joke, but when you look at him you're not smiling.

“You're limping. You might not have broken anything but- here, sit down.” You gently put your hand on his shoulder.

“It’s really nothing, I’m just being an idiot...” He moves away from your touch, shaking it off and puffing up his chest a little. He tries to shoot you a smile again, but it did little to aid your concerns.

“Just, let me take a look at it? Maybe I can help-“ You start, a little frustrated at his stubbornness.

“But I don’t need help! I can take care of it myself! I just- I just stubbed my toe. I’ll be fine!” You sigh, giving him a weird look, but deciding not to push it.

“…why were you beefing with the fence post anyway…did it kill your grandma?” You joke, hoping to fix the awkward air that had somehow come between the two of you. It’s weird, you’d never felt awkward talking with him before.

Instead of responding, Jimmy just turned towards his half finished building. And stood there. After a while he finally spoke. “Listen I’m, kinda busy right now. Maybe you can come back another time?” …Alright that’s it-

“Ok Jimmy, what is up with you? I came here to see your build, which looks less finished than when I saw it days ago may I add, and instead I see you kicking a fence post, getting defensive when I try to help, and now you don’t even laugh at my Trolls joke? …ok maybe it's an old meme but still-“ You chuckle, still kind of hoping he’d just turn around and start acting normal again. You’ve never seen him act like this before.

All he did was stand there…and as the silence grew longer you couldn’t help but start to get worried. “Gosh…I really am useless.” He finally says.

You almost roll your eyes, “Your not useless Jim-“ 

“Yes- yes I am!” He says it so firmly you freeze. You’ve never heard him raise his voice like that before. 

“I can’t build, I can’t fight, I can’t even be the guy who smiles all the time! I’m- I’m basically worthl-“ He stops himself. “…and I don’t know why I’m telling you this- I’m sorry.“ You're so surprised by his words you don’t even know what to say. “I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just-“ He takes his hat off of his head and grips it in his hands. “It’s so stupid- I’m so stupid. It shouldn’t be this hard for me to just-“ His grip on the hat tightens.

“…Jimmy, you are not worthless. You don’t have to smile all the time to be the brightest ray of sunshine I know. You could probably make me see the silver lining of getting stabbed for god's sake-“ You almost laugh at your own words, hoping it would get through to him. “You are worthy of love and friends and respect. And I’m sorry I don’t tell you that enough.” You walk up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He slowly spins around, but doesn’t meet your eyes.

“I’m just being a baby-”

“No, no you're not. It’s ok to- to feel bad sometimes.” You interrupt gently before he can insult himself again.

“Why- why do you even care?�� His voice wavers, and now you can see the tears streaming out of his eyes. 

“Because I love you…you idiot.” Jimmy freezes, and even you are a little surprised at your own words, but it’s true. “People care about you- I care about you! I don't care that you can’t build giant castles or fight dragons, or that you get mad or sad sometimes-“ Your rambling a bit, trying to recover from the bombshell you just dropped. Jimmy was just staring at you, eyes wide. 

“…you…love me? Like…love, love me?!” He says slowly, not really paying attention to anything else you said after.

“I- this is probably not the best time to just- but, yea. I really do.” You can’t help but look down as you admit it, and when you look back up at him he’s crying all over again. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

He steps forward and wraps you in a hug, sobbing into your shoulder. You hug him back, rubbing his back and giving him some words of encouragement. Slowly his sobs get quieter, and eventually he pulls away from the hug.

“Um…” He sniffs. “I know I probably look like a mess right now-“

“Just a little.” You tease gently, wiping a stray tear off of his face.

“Right- but um…I love you too. Just so you know.” He avoids your eyes as he says it, then looks directly into them, gauging your reaction, as if to ensure this wasn’t all a joke.

“Like…?” You start.

“Yea…like that.” He gently bumps his forehead against yours, his regular confident smile returning to his face. “I cannot believe you fell for my Sheriff rizz.” You laugh, shaking your head.

“Don’t- don’t say rizz-” You try to suppress a giggle, pretending to be upset. “Great, now you ruined the moment.”

His bravado instantly drops, “Wait. No wait I didn’t mean to-” You shut him up by yanking his neckerchief and planting a kiss on his cheek. “To…to…” His face slowly reddens as his brain catches up to his speeding heart.

“Fixed it.” You say simply, chuckling softly as your Sheriff still reboots. “I think I’m the one with the rizz~” You laugh.

“Yea, no I see how that ruins the moment.” You laugh even harder at his reaction, and he can’t help but join in. After a few moments, you end up gazing into his bright hazel eyes.

“You know you can always talk to me when you're feeling upset.” You say seriously, taking one of his hands with both of your own. “Don’t just…no one should be alone when they're feeling like that.”

“...I know…You're right, as always.” He smiles appreciatively, grabbing one of your hands with his free one. You both stand there, swaying your interlocked hands gently back and forth, just enjoying the other's company.

“You know, when you're feeling up to it, why don’t I help you finish this…” You look over the half finished building, realizing you had no idea what it was actually supposed to be.

“Barn. It’s – ” he sighs, as if even bringing it up makes him feel tired all over again, “ – ‘supposed to be a barn.” 

“Barn! Right, and we could even ask Joel to help.” His eyes widen.

“No! You can’t tell him- Oh my god I’d never hear the end of it!” You laugh at the urgency in his voice.

“Ok! Ok. It’ll just be me. I’ll help you…” You let go of his hands and instead interlock your fingers behind his neck. “It’ll be our little secret.” He gazes into your eyes with a look only comparable to a lovesick puppy.

“Gosh I really wanna kiss you right now-” He lets out with a whisper, and then it’s your turn to get a little flustered.

“Well…then kiss me cowboy.” You lean in and he meets you halfway, and the kiss is just as sweet as the blonde Sheriff you share it with.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

#jimmy solidarity x reader #c!jimmy x reader #x reader #solidarity gaming x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #life series x reader #empires x reader #x gn! reader #x gender neutral reader #traffic smp x reader #empires smp x reader #solidarity x reader #empires fanfic #life series fanfic #traffic smp fanfic #jimmysolidarity x reader #mcyt x reader #hermitcraft x reader #slimewrites

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights * mv1

since your breakup, max hadn’t thought of you. until he stumbled home by himself in the middle of the night.

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: honestly just heartbreak all around

notes: i started writing this when i found out my ex-boyfriend was dating someone new, and now here i am 💀 and i fear i am on my phone once more; i will credit the gif in the morning when i get to school

(next)

the lock clicks as max turns his key, the sound echoing in the eerily empty hallway behind him. he turns the knob and was greeted by his empty apartment.

max hasn’t been home in almost 2 weeks. the races and his media commitments, topped by other projects just made it so rare to find the time to come home. but that’s not the only reason he’s avoiding the confinements of these four walls.

he flips the switch in the entryway, slipping his shoes off. immediately, he notices the vast difference in the way his apartment looks — how strangely lifeless it feels.

he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is and it takes him a second to realise.

you’d emptied his apartment of your belongings.

the breakup happened in the 2 weeks he was away from home. it actually took place a night before his race. he’d grown tired of it too, the neverending misunderstandings and the fights.

so he let you walk away; you hopped on a flight back home.

he hasn’t exactly had the time to think about you since then. you’d only texted him once: two days ago to tell him that victoria will be the one with the cats until he comes back. he’d only replied with a simple ‘okay, thank you’.

he didn’t really know what to say either. he stared at your text message for 5 minutes before daniel called him over to start filming a promotional shoot. that was all he could come up with.

max walks further into the apartment you’d once shared. his eyes are darting all over the place, taking mental notes of spots that look different from the way he had left it.

the framed picture of you with the cats is gone, your magazines on the coffee table, the bowl of your collection of scrunchies as a ‘conversation-starter’ centrepiece — it’s all gone.

his apartment didn’t even feel like home. all of the things that made it feel like home just isn’t in here anymore.

max turns his body, taking a glance at the entryway. even your house slippers aren’t where they usually are. it’s as if you were never even here.

he takes a walk further in, glancing at the sofa. it seems so lifeless now without the teddy bear you brought in, and the blanket that you insisted was only for the living room.

he admits he misses the teddy bear. though, he was opposed to the idea at first, claiming that it’s taking up precious space that you could both be maximising together. it proved a lot more useful when he found himself hugging it when he’s on the sofa watching a show with you.

the remotes for all the appliances are no longer scattered over the furniture mysteriously. they are all lined up neatly on the edge of the coffee table, grouped accordingly. you hated arranging the console remotes for the simple fact that you were too lazy to reach forward an inch to start playing.

and it finally hits him, that in the moment of pride, and simply protecting his peace at the moment, he has now lost you.

for good, it seems.

max drops himself on the couch. he’s still looking around, desperately wishing that this was some cruel dream he’s in. he will wake up with you by his side, your hair in his face with his arm draped lazily around your body. he will wake up and you are still his, and he is yours.

he can only sigh. audbily, at the predicament he has found himself in. at the time, it didn’t occur to him to fight for you; to ask you to stay. he didn’t have it in him to ask you to find reason within yourself to change your mind.

then he hears a soft meow, followed by sounds of pitter patter against the floor of the apartment. before he knew it, the couch dips ever so slightly and then there’s jimmy climbing onto his lap to greet him.

then he hears actual footsteps, slippers dragging against the floor. he turns his head slightly, his one hand patting the feline’s head, and meets victoria’s eyes.

“max?”

“victoria.”

a set of lights by the windows are turned on, granting him a look at his younger sister. she’s standing by the door of the guest bedroom with a jacket hanging loosely around her shoulders.

she has a frown on her face, and a look that screamed she didn’t know what to say to him.

and then his heart breaks. instead of walking through those apartment doors hand in hand with you, giggling from the high you’d get from the bar in his private jet, he is sitting her all by himself. met by his younger sister, who would be gone by morning to go back to her family.

max can only smile sadly at her. he shrugs. “we broke up.”

“i know,” she answers softly, nodding understandingly. she approaches him cautiously with her arms slightly held up. “i’m sorry.”

“me too.”

max scrambles from his position and gladly takes in the hug that she’s offered him. he suddenly feels so small, his heart aching in his chest and his throat closing up. he feels the tears in his eyes as he hugs his younger sister slightly tighter.

she rubs her back up and down, hugging him even tighter when she feels his chest stagger slightly. now he’s sniffling and hands are moving up to his face to wipe the tears falling from his eyes.

“give it time,” victoria whispers, swaying slightly in an attempt to comfort the driver. “i promise everything will fall back into place. slowly, but surely.”

max sighs deeply. “i don’t know why i didn’t stop her from walking away.”

she pulls away from the hug, then tugs his hands towards the couch when he chases her embrace. she leans back, pulling max in for a tighter — and slightly more comfortable — hug.

“i know it sucks now,” she rests her cheek on the top of his head, squeezing his shoulder empathetically. “but let things sort itself out. it will be okay.”

there, in his sister’s arms, he cried for the first time since your breakup. he had been so busy that he hadn’t been able to process the whole situation at all.

the way you had shot daggers at him through your eyes that night, how he snapped at you when he noticed and how the fight had erupted from something barely of significance.

it was just over a cup of coffee — how you had made it with 2 sugars instead of 3.

from there, the topics of contention had evolved into something bigger. in the haze of both of your anger, past arguments were brought up and new ones were created just in that night.

then both of you grew tired. you ended up next to him on the couch of his driver’s room in silence. and you said, “i can’t do this anymore, max.”

and he had said to you, “i’m tired.”

but what he should’ve said was: “i’m sure we can find a way through this.”

but that’s not what he said to you. he stayed silent when you brought it up: “i think we need to break up.”

frankly, he didn’t really know what to say. at first, he was dumbfounded at what you said. never did he think, that when you first start dating, that a breakup would ever present itself.

max told himself, about 4 months into the relationship that there’s absolutely no way he’d end up with anybody else except you.

now, it seems he’s going to have to go through all of this by himself. start the whole thing all over again, unless something changes.

#oh #i like it! #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke f1

[daddyhausen]

• acknowledgment — roman reigns •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ masterlist } | { wwe masterlist } | { roman reigns masterlist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ summary } — your job was simple, acknowledge your tribal chief

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, oral sex { male receiving }, power imbalance, power play, asphyxiation, hair pulling, face slapping, tit slapping, pussy slapping, throat fucking, cumshots, facials, throat pie, size difference, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, male + female orgasms, internal cumshots, vaginal creampie, squirting

{ word count } — 2.9k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x roman reigns

{ genre } — smut

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ taglist } — @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @baybay-boom @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

it was a flurry of emotions after roman’s triumphant win over a now heartbroken cody rhodes. paul was spouting praises that fell on your deaf ears as you casually sauntered behind the pack of brothers known as jimmy, jay and solo, the youngest of the three remaining silent all with a brooding stare while his brothers cheered and celebrated their cousin’s big win.

“excellent job out there, my tribal chief! you were absolutely marvellous, cody did not stand a chance-“ paul’s albeit over the top praise of your tribal chief only offered an eye roll on your part. of course roman won, only your wished he had done it on his own instead of relying on the twins and solo to do his bidding. still…you were proud of him nonetheless and he was still champion of course and that’s all that mattered now.

yet roman remained stoic, barely acknowledging their presence for the time being, cody surely did put up a fight, even had you holding your breath in a mix of fear and anticipation, you’d never seen roman so desperate in a match before, and you knew that was eating away at your tribal chief.

“how should we celebrate, my tribal chief? i have a limousine parked out front, wherever you want to go it shall take you-“

“paul.” roman spoke sternly not even offering the wise man a mere glance in his direction, one that made mr. hayman’s blood run cold, his face had an unusual pallor to it, almost going grey in fear, the only word leaving his lips was a meek “yes”

“leave…” roman grumbled, placing his recently defended titles beside him onto the couch with a haphazard throw. “all of you”

you watched them all leave one by one. paul scurried out the door first, followed by the twins, jimmy first than jay. solo held back for a bit offering you a small parting glance as you held the door open for them.

“not you, y/n” roman’s voice shot up from the silence just as you were about to leave. his tone was stern and it left you, admittedly, a bit frightened. you closed the door behind you, quickly turning to face your tribal chief who had already made himself comfortable on the couch. his skin glowing under the warm lights of the locker room, still glazed over with perspiration, his hair slicked back into a haphazard bun, he sat back into the couch legs spread, his chest still heavy with laboured breaths. an inviting sight it surely was. you kept your head down to avoid his gaze, fearful of what your tribal chief’s next words.

“you seemed a bit quiet tonight.” roman simply remarked. eyeing you down curiously. “care to tell me why?”

you managed to gulp down the fear that rose in your throat, still avoiding your tribal chiefs stare.

“t-to be truthful, m-my tribal c-chief…” you began, already stuttering over your words “i was a bit worried that you would not retain tonight…”

“what do you mean by that? did you think that i wasn’t capable of beating some pathetic loser like cody?” roman’s demanded shifted slightly, he leaned forward, a single forearm upon his knee, staring you down, despite the distance in which he sat from you, it felt like his presence was looming over your figure

“no! that not what i meant at all, my tribal chief!-“ your words seemed panicked to roman’s ears which pricked up at your sudden hostility

“then what did you mean by it?” roman sneered, still feeling as if he was standing daggers through you. you stammered over your words, barely able to string a sentence together all in which made roman give up his interrogation with a scoff, resuming his original position on the couch.

“come to think of it, i don’t think i heard you acknowledge your tribal chief yet” he was right, you’d been so caught up today with all the cody drama that you had forgotten completely. you went to open your mouth to speak before roman cut you off again

“not like that, sweetheart” roman reached past the waistband of his ring gear, freeing his cock from the restraint of it. his half hard cock slapped against his stomach, tip glossy with pre-cum. your cheeks grew heated, never had you seen a more magnificent cock. roman was thick, much thicker than any you’ve encountered, his size was also impressive, an imposing nine inches at most, thick veins wrapped around his shaft.

“like this” he slowly began to stroke himself simply at the thought of ruining your throat, you gulped thickly, already feeling a tightness in your oesophagus.

“now…” be began, releasing the grip on his cock “come acknowledge me”

your movements were almost instinctual. just about to practically crawl on your hands and knees towards him if he so please before refraining for a moment. you gathered yourself, allowing yourself to collect your thoughts for a moment despite none of actual substance forming, your gaze merely fixated on roman’s size as he casually stroked the lower half of his shaft. you made slow, cautious strides towards him, his cocky gaze looming over your figure, a sliver of a smirk twitched on the corners of his lips. eventually you’d made your way between his thighs, kneeling before him as he stared down at you demeaningly.

“open your mouth for me” roman instructed, still lazily pumping his cock as you obliged. your tongue parted your lips, the appendage hanging out of your mouth, waiting for his next instruction. he shuffled his hips forward momentarily, hand still wrapped firmly around the base of his shaft, slapping the tip of his cock against the flat of your tongue a couple of times, droplets of his pre-cum mingling with your tastebuds.

his free hand snaked around the back of your head, fingers knotting in your hair, tugging at the roots as he pushed your throat down around his cock. you choked at the foreign feeling, a sound that only warmed his loins further. he gave a small gutteral moan, the vibrations of your throat caused such a delicious reverb around his cock.

“shit, babygirl…” roman muttered through clenched teeth as your lips enclosed around his being shaft “who knew you could suck cock this good…”

roman’s words were breathy and almost dreamlike as he continued to use your throat, not allowing you up for air for what felt like minutes at a time. he kept his hips still, the only movement being that of your head, he’d taken it between two hands effectively using your throat as a makeshift fleshlight, not that you cared you were just happy to please your tribal chief.

“mmm…such a good little whore for me…” roman’s eyes fluttered closed in his blissful state, simply basking in the feeling of your warm, wet mouth. the tips of his fingers, as rough as they held your hair, massaged your scalp with small circles. you peered up at him, the whites of your eyes slightly bloodshot and glazed over, the assault on your throat pricked them with tears, roman payed no mind to it, too wrapped up in his own pleasure to care. his cock stretched your lips, his thickness made it feel as if they were going to tear at the corners at any moment. they way he stuffed your throat, trapping the air in your lungs while you choked and gasped around him was nothing short of exhilarating.

“look at you…your little mouth can’t even take half my cock” roman mocked with a sly grin, an equally matched chuckle fell from his parted lips. he stood up, despite being flushed with exhaustion from his match, he’d obtained a sudden burst of energy, what from he dosen’t know, maybe it was the sight of you gagging around his length that got his adrenaline pumping. his grip still tangled in your hair, knuckles turning bone white at the tightness, without warning, he pushed your head further down, his cock sinking into the back of your throat, until the tip of your nose was nestled against the base of his shaft. he would not move, no matter how much you scratched and clawed at his thighs, so desperate for air.

“you need to acknowledge me, sweetheart” you stared up at him, almost a twinge of malaise in your glare but it was quickly dismissed by him. he knew you’d fall in line soon enough. he kept you there for a moment, simply enjoying your choked gasps and sputters, the sensation reverberating around his thick cock. he noticed your eyes beggining to flatter from your fixed gaze upon him, eyelashes starting to bat softly as unconsciousness was slowly taking over. you were just on the brink of passing out when he ripped his cock from your throat

you gasped and choked, finally able to get air into your lungs after what felt like hours, roman stared down at you with a malicious grin, his cock cascading a shadow over your form, his shaft glossed over and dripping with your spit.

“you gonna acknowledge me now?” his tone was dry yet, still held onto that sly flirtatious wit.

“fuck you-“ you did not mean to curse at him like that, let alone raise your voice at him. you hand reached around your throat to try and soothe the burning sensation within it. as much as you enjoyed the wonderful assault from his cock. roman’s gaze quickly turned cold, the once cocky smirk now replaced with a scowl, he barely gave you enough time to catch your breath before he interlocked both hands him your scalp, forcing his thick cock back down your throat for more lovely abuse to continue

“so you’re taking back to me now, huh? who gave you the fucking right to do that, you little whore?” roman’s cock slipped in and out of your throat with ease, desperate to ruin it, to make you choke on his cum.

“you’re only job is to acknowledge me, to take this cock like a good little slut, do you fucking understand me!?” of course you did, roman took the hint by the lack of claw marks in his thighs, the way you’d stopped resisting, not that you were resisting in the first place. the way you’d become completely absent to yourself, being completely subservient to him

roman came down your throat without warning, his hot seed filling your cheeks with warmth. you swallowed him greedily, an apology of sorts for speaking back to him, you showed him your tongue as he pulled out, an act of compliance of some sorts, he related what he had done previously, slapping the tip of his cock against your tongue some droplets fell atop your cheeks as he beckoned you to stand. you did, and with that he offered you a rough slap to your cheek, one that send shockwaves of arousal to your core. he cupped the skin as it began to redden, his thumb smoothing over the burning flesh

“don’t you ever speak to me like that again, otherwise i won’t be so easy on you” his fingers fell to the buttons of your blouse, unbuttoning the semi-sheer material all while keeping you’re gaze. you skin burned with heart, and no that was not the lingering effects of that previous slap, roman had a way of commanding people, making them feel small and helpless under him and by god it was surely working. he had removed your blouse with such ease that you had not even realised it happened before he reached around to unclasp your bra, not before groping your clothed breasts in his large palms.

he was quick to undo the clasps, letting the lace material fall to the floor, he admired your breasts for a moment, adoring them, he repeated the process, groping them, kneading the supple flesh, your nipples hardened at the contact, his calloused palms grazing against the swollen buds. without warning he slapped them both, the sensation made a small yelp of pain to leave your lips. he only chuckled at your reaction. he made his way behind you, impatient and needy as he unzipped your tight pencil skirt, throwing it across the room into the pile of clothes that slowly started to form near the door. roman stuck a large hand into your panties, his fingertips toying with your sensitive clit, marveling at just how wet he had made you.

“you’re such a little slut, you know that, y/n…” he smirked into the crook of your neck. “listen to how fucking wet this little pussy is for me”

he did not have to do much, simply part your folds with his fingers for you to hear that wet sloshing sound of your cunt, one that you adored so much. roman pried his fingertips from your panties bringing them to your lips for you to taste only for him to bypass your lips completely, bringing them to his own. he relished in your sweetness, a drawn out moan ripped through his throat as he licked his fingers clean.

“i might just have to devour you, babygirl” his words gave you a sliver of hope, a gasp help in your throat for a moment.

“but tonight is not about you. it’s about me” roman ripped your panties clean off, leaving your dripping cunt exposed to the elements roma have a harsh slap to your dripping cunt, one that made you wince in excitement. he grabbed your wrist, dragging you over to the couch once more. he took his seated position again, pulling you atop his lap, lining up his thick cock with you entrance. he gave you no time to adjust to your surroundings before he stuffed you full of him

“roman…” you whined, head thrown back in pleasure simply by being stretched out by him. he cocked an eyebrow accusingly at the use of his name.

“my tribal chief…” you corrected yourself quickly. noticing a satisfied smirk form across his lips. “y-you’re so big”

“i know” roman chuckled, beginning to move with slow, deep thrusts to set the pace. he kept his gaze on your breasts, loving the way they voiced and jiggled every time he fucked up into you, a singe hand place on your hip to guide your movements, the way you swirled and bucked against him, so needy and feverish to get him off.

“you look so fucking tiny on my cock” roman mocked, comparing your radical size difference. he took a mental note of the way his cock outlined in your stomach, each thrust made it bulge against your skin. your cunt was trembling around his size, taking each inch deeper and deeper until you were stuffed to the brim. as much as you did not want to admit, you enjoyed the way roman used you like this, his personal fuck toy. it beats doing his paperwork for sure.

your hips seemed to bounce absentmindedly, your mind too fixated in achieving orgasm that you completely forgot you have not acknowledged him yet. your body hummed with pleasure so close to the edge that you did not care if he didn’t cum, you just needed to.

“i acknowledge you, my tribal chief” you whimpered through small, breathless moans. he’d caught ear of your words, simply smirking to himself. he pulled your hips down with both hands, holding you down on his cock as he practically rearranged your insides. roman’s chest heaved with arousal, the force of his thrusts bucked you into his chest, your breasts pushed up against his solid frame. his large palms fell to your ass, gripping the pillowy flesh as he slammed into you with such delicious force. roman’s dementor shifted quite rapidly from before. at first he was insulting, demeaning, now he was attentive, respectful almost

“you gonna cum for me, babygirl” his words were soft against your skin, lips pressed into the crook of your neck. you meekly hummed in response, feeling the tightness of your stomach increase. he rested back into the couch, adoring the way your ass bounced back against his cock. he pried your face up for him to look at. he admired your beauty, they way you mouth hung open with breathless pants, eyes rolling into the back of your skull, completely fucked out

you came around him, the proverbial flood gates opening. nails clinging to his biceps, digging into the flesh as your slammed your hips down against his. he was quick to follow, pressing your hips against his, holding your waist tight as he emptied rope after rope of his cum deep inside you. his lips inches from yours, teasing you with faux kisses before planting open mouthed ones to the side and column of your throat.

“fuck-“ he groaned against your skin, still holding you still. his pupils were blown with a mix of adoration and lust. he peered down at you for a moment, noticing the redness still evident on your cheek, he cupped it again, your skin feeling so delicate in his palm.

“i’m sorry if i hurt you, babygirl…” he hummed softly against your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the burning skin. you did not expect such a sensitive and compassion side from roman

“why don’t i take you back to the hotel? eat you out for doing such a good job huh?, how does that sound?”

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#{ my fics : 🤍 } #roman reigns #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfic #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfic #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut

[longwuzhere]

Some cool Easter eggs I caught watching My Adventures with Superman that I want to show to people so they can be in on it with comic book readers pt2

Episode 1 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 3 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 5 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 6 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 7 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here and here

Episode 8 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 9 of My Adventure with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 10 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

(SPOILERS obviously):

An obvious one, but a classic, the "up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman!" line reference. This one never gets old.

Jimmy next name drops Flamebird. in the comics Nightwing and Flamebird were Kryptonian superheroes adopting their names from a species of Kryptonian birds. This is where Dick Grayson gets his Nightwing identity from. The page here is from Who's Who: The Definitive Directory of the DC Universe #17 (1986) drawn by Curt Swan and Karl Kesel.

At the climatic battle of part 2 of Adventures of a Normal Man, we see Leslie Willis become blue and look more like her traditional Livewire look. Her first appearance was in Superman the Animated Series, season 2 episode 5 "Livewire" where she was voiced by Lori Petty, a.k.a. Tank Girl. In the show Leslie was a shock jock radio DJ slinging hot takes live on air knocking down Superman a peg or two

Obviously MAwS took Leslie in a whole different direction, design choice, and occupation change, but I am excited to see what happens next for her.

Before we see Clark battle Leslie we see this guy. White hair, wears orange and black, its Slade Wilson a.k.a. Deathstroke. This fool here in like 20 to 25 years will have his life spiral out of control and get his ass kicked by a bunch of colorfully dressed teenagers.

Deathstroke makes his first appearance in New Teen Titans #2 (1980) (W: Marv Wolfman and George Perez, P: George Perez, I: Romeo Tanghal, C: Adrienne Roy, L: Ben Oda) where he is hired by H.I.V.E. to kill the Teen Titans. In the comics he's a major piece of shit, but a damn good assassin.

After the fight we see Supes clean up and he picks up a billboard that reads Amazotech.

This is a good reference to Professor Anthony Ivo, a mad scientist of the DC Universe who built the Amazo robot who could adapt and replicate any power that the Justice League has and weaknesses. Both Ivo and the Amazo robot make their first appearances here in Brave and the Bold #30 (1960) with the cover art done by Mike Sekowsky and Murphy Anderson.

At the end of the episode Slade name drops Task Force X better known as the Suicide Squad. The name "Suicide Squad" is from the Brave and the Bold #25 where it was the name of Rick Flag's unit in the military. The Suicide Squad pop culture knows first debuted in Legends #3 (1987) as seen below (W: John Ostrander and Len Wein, P: John Byrne, I: Karl Kesel, C: Tom Ziuko, L: Steve Haynie).

The team at this time was composed of Rick Flag, Bronze Tiger, Captain Boomerang, Deadshot, Enchantress, and Blockbuster. The team members have changed out with each new Task Force X/Suicide Squad iteration.

Behind Slade, here is Amanda Waller, the most fearsome woman in the DC universe. She's ruthless, politically powerful, and will not hesitate to blow up anyone in the Suicide Squad if they screw up. She makes her first appearance in Legends #1 (1987) same comic series in the previous picture. Very excited to see where My Adventures with Superman goes with this cuz you don't see Superman interact with Deathstroke or Suicide Squad all the often.

Link to Episode 1 of My Adventures of Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 3 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 5 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 6 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 7 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here and here

Link to Episode 8 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 9 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 10 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

#My Adventures with Superman #Superman #Clark Kent #Lois Lane #Jimmy Olson #Nightwing #Flamebird #Livewire #Leslie Willis #Superman the Animated Series #Deathstroke #Deathstroke the Terminator #Slade Wilson #Professor Ivo #Anthony Ivo #Amazo #Amazo Robot #Amazo Bot #Amazo Tech #Task Force X #Suicide Squad #The Suicide Squad #Amanda Waller #Rick Flag #Deadshot #Bronze Tiger #Captain Boomerang #Enchantress #Blockbuster #A little shorter but still long AF

[redroomreflections]

II HANDS II HEAVEN 4

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

W/c:4k

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Hour 15 - Welcome to Jacksonville  

“So live your life (eh-eh-eh)

You steady chasin' that paper

Just live your life (oh, eh-eh-eh)” 

“Ain’t got no time for no haters,” You sang the lyrics to the TI and Rihanna song, as you eased the car into a parking spot with precision. Your voice filled the car's interior as you continued to hum to the music. With one hand casually resting on Natasha's passenger headrest, you backed into the first available spot. 

Natasha seemed none the wiser as she slept peacefully beside you. She had learned to tune you out three hours ago. She stirred beside you, her peaceful slumber interrupted by the cutting of the car's engine. Blinking groggily, she glanced around the unfamiliar surroundings of the parking lot.

"Why are we stopping?" Her voice held a trace of confusion as she sat up, her gaze flitting around. "Where are we? Is this a mall?"

With a casual shrug, you unbuckled your seatbelt, a playful smirk playing on your lips. "Do you always wake up this disoriented?"

Natasha's brow furrowed slightly, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice. "I wouldn't be disoriented if you didn't keep making unnecessary stops."

You shrugged, unfazed by her annoyance. "Relax, it's just a quick pit stop. Thought we could use a little break before we hit the road again."

Natasha sighed, her frustration evident as she glanced out the window. "Fine, but make it quick. We have a schedule to keep."

“You’re coming aren’t you?” You turned to her as you slid out of the driver’s seat. 

Natasha followed suit, stepping out of the car with a grimace. This heat was atrocious. "I suppose I have no choice," she replied. 

You walked ahead of her, straight through the mall, and into the adult equivalent of a candy store; Jared's Jewelry.

Natasha frowned as she observed you eyeing the necklaces on the counter. "Jewelry shopping?" she questioned, a hint of skepticism in her voice.

"Wedding band shopping," you clarified, tapping your left ring finger for emphasis. "Married couples with no rings?"

“Right,” She mumbled. This mission hadn’t been as meticulously planned as others. The dealings mostly relied on you both to be sufficient spies that could handle things like this on your own. 

“We’ve been married two days and you’re already forgetting the important stuff,” You joked with a headshake. “Oh, I like this one.”

“$2,000?” Natasha tilted her head. She squinted her eyes at the price. This was a part of life she never had to pay much attention to. 

“You're right too cheap,” You nodded in agreement. Natasha was just about to protest when a man with an unidentifiable accent approached the both of you. 

The man, dressed in all black like a worker, approached with a friendly smile. "Can I help you ladies find something?" he asked in his accented voice.

You immediately shared a knowing gaze with Natasha. His accent was most certainly fake. Maybe as a way to keep up appearances in such a high-end store. 

“Yes, my wife and I are looking for wedding bands,” You begin to play the part of Alexis. Half ditzy and overexcited. “Can you show me a better selection or is this all you have?”

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“Surprise me,” You gestured to the entirety of the store. 

The worker, Jimmy, nodded and led you to several pieces, showcasing them with pride. However, none of them seemed to be quite right. Natasha's annoyance grew evident, but you seemed to be having too much fun, trying on different pieces and admiring yourself in the mirror.

“What do you think of this one?” You looked at Natasha as you gently tapped against the glass. She inspected the jewelry piece and shrugged. She did not like it. 

“How about this one?” Natasha pointed to a wedding band set near the area she wandered off to. 

“Oh, that one is beautiful,” Jimmy praised as he opened up the glass casing for you to get a closer look. He picked up the ring, passing it over to you while watching the both of you closely. 

You eyed the wedding band set that Natasha pointed out, examining it with interest. It was simple, yet elegant and beautiful, just as she described. You reached out to touch it, feeling the smooth material against your fingertips.

“How many carats?” You asked aloud. “It’s pretty.” 

Jimmy described the wedding cushion band, "It's a 2-carat total weight round diamond set in 14-karat white gold. It's one of our finest pieces, quite exquisite, if I may say so."

Natasha's eyes widened as she realized how expensive it was, almost saying no. But before she could voice her concern, you rushed in, saying, "I'll take it."

“That’s a $4,000 ring,” Natasha pointed out. 

You shrugged casually, "Yeah, so?"

“Don’t you think that’s a little expensive considering the circumstances?”

“Let’s just say my billionaire daddy gave me his credit card,” You smirked cheekily, alluding back to Natasha’s insult a few hours ago. 

Natasha's eyebrows raised, but she didn't press further. Instead, she nodded, acknowledging your response.

“In that case, let’s look for a band that compliments you blondie,” Jimmy encouraged as he led you over to yet another ring display. He missed the death glare Natasha was sending his way as he walked ahead of you. You couldn't help but snicker at her expense. Oh, you would love this week.  “This time, I think the misses can pick one out. Since you did pick hers.” 

You grinned mischievously, your eyes scanning over rings that were far from Natasha's taste. "Sure thing, Jimmy. Let's see if we can find something that screams her." Your tone was playful, knowing full well that the rings you were considering would likely get a less-than-enthusiastic response from Natasha.

“Don’t you dare,” Natasha murmured threateningly. She caught sight of the rose gold wedding ring that looked more like a toy than real jewelry. It was tacky and not as well made as some of the other rings you’d seen. 

You chuckled softly, pretending to consider the ring for a moment before shaking your head. "Nah, too flashy for you, babe," you teased, using the nickname deliberately to provoke a reaction. "We'll keep looking." You shot her a playful wink before turning your attention back to the display. 

As you browsed through the selection, your eyes caught on a ring resting in the display. It was a delicate white gold band, adorned with a single, shimmering diamond that seemed to dance in the light. The stone was elegantly set in a simple, yet intricate design that directly matched yours. They complimented each other in the best way. 

"This one," You murmured, reaching for the ring with a sense of certainty. 

"This is it," You declared with a smile, turning to Natasha to gauge her reaction. “It compliments your eyes. I can’t describe it but it’s nice. What do you think?

“I like it,” Natasha cleared her throat, hoping to ease some of the awkwardness between you. “It’s nice.”

“We’ll take it,” You turned to give the ring to Jimmy. “How soon can we take both home?” 

“Within the next hour,” Jimmy suggested. “You said you’re paying by credit card? For you, I can have everything done within fifteen minutes. It simply takes insurance a while. I’ll give you a call when it’s ready?”

“That sounds lovely, thank you,” You stepped over to the register where he began to ring you up. “Oh, I think I left my credit card in the car. Babe, won’t you be a doll and swipe for me?” You looked at Natasha with a mischievous glint in your eyes.  

Natasha's eyes narrowed at your request, but she begrudgingly reached for her wallet, swiping her card without a word. As the transaction went through, you couldn't help but smirk, knowing you had just added another layer to your playful banter.

"Thanks, babe," You said with a wink, accepting the receipt from Jimmy. "I owe you one."

“Uh huh,” Natasha nodded. “We’ll be back soon.” 

Natasha followed you out of the store and down towards the food court. 

“Oh, Charley’s,” You grinned. “Come, we must feast.” You waved Natasha over to Charley's Philly Steak. 

“Thanks but no thanks,” Natraha shook her head. “This is a lot of grease and…”

“What type of health nut are you ?” You asked in disgust. You gave her body a once over before you sighed. 

Natasha gave a wry smile. "Call me crazy, but I prefer to avoid coronary artery disease."

You chuckled. "Suit yourself. More cheesesteak for me." With that, you headed into the restaurant, leaving Natasha to ponder her choices.

You ordered the best cheesesteak on the planet, practically salivating at the menu as you stood in line. When it was time to get your food, you led Natasha over to a table to sit with you. She sat with a simple lemonade in her hand as she eyed your surroundings subtly. You had to admit the girl was good. 

“You know I kind of like you,” You said to Natasha in between bites. “At first, I simply thought you were bitchy. Now I think of you as kind of hot and bitchy. It works for you. Also, the blonde does look good on you I must say.” 

Natasha raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Thanks, I think."

You grinned, undeterred by her lack of enthusiasm. "Hey, it takes a special kind of person to rock the 'hot and bitchy' vibe. Not everyone can pull it off."

Natasha shook her head, a small smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Absolutely," You replied with a wink, taking another bite of your cheesesteak.

“You certainly have a way with words,” Natasha mumbled, as she watched you ogle a beautiful woman walking past the two of you. “Keep your eyes open.”

You glanced back at Natasha, a smirk playing on your lips. "Always do, especially when the view's this good."

Natasha rolled her eyes, but a hint of amusement danced in her gaze. "Just remember why we're here, okay?"

"Got it," You replied with a wink, turning your attention back to the task at hand.

“People say I’m a bit intense,” Natasha began. “They’ve never met you.”

You chuckled, acknowledging her remark. "Intense? Me? Nah, just passionate about the job."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Sure, let's go with that."

“It gets me through the day to keep my mood lifted,” You said solemnly. “I spent so much time being serious. Stone-faced and unhappy. I like this version of me. It’s neat.”

Natasha regarded you with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "So, you're saying the humor is a coping mechanism?"

You nodded a wistful smile on your face. "Something like that. Keeps me sane, you know?"

“I do,” Natasha agreed. “You’re not going to eat all of these,” Natasha said more so to herself than you as she grabbed a few fries from your plate.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist," You teased, nudging the plate closer to her. 

“It’s halfway decent,” Natasha hummed as she chewed into a fry. “I’m not a stickler when it comes to eating. Just so you know.”

“I know,” You shrugged. Some things went without saying. If there was someone to truly judge her on certain habits she most likely gained from life growing up as a spy it wouldn’t be you. 

“How old were you when you joined?” Natasha asked suddenly. “Your file doesn’t say.”

You chewed slowly, debating on whether you wanted to tell her or not. 

“Fourteen,” You admitted. 

Natasha's expression softened a hint of empathy in her eyes. "That's young," she remarked quietly, her tone more gentle than usual. She tried to imagine what a younger, spy you would look like. How would you have acted then? Were you afraid? Did you make friends? Were you allowed to have friends? She wants to know so much more. Though she figured you weren’t willing to tell her too much. You were only being cordial after all. 

“It is,” You swallowed thickly. “I played basketball in school and I was recruited based on my JROTC background. I guess they saw something in me no one else did.” 

Natasha nodded, absorbing your words. "They usually do," she replied, her voice carrying a weight of understanding. "Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I am,” You nodded. Anything to keep this conversation from going any deeper. 

—------

The rest of the ride to Bay Harbor Island is done in relative silence. You and Natasha would share brief tidbits about the other, both made up and truthful, as you prepared to assume your roles. You could feel the hairs on your arms stand as you pulled into the luxurious resort parking lot. You wouldn’t even attempt to find a parking spot on your own, instead pulling up to the valet. 

As the valet took the keys and you stepped out of the car, the weight of your assumed identities settled upon you. You straightened your posture, adopting the persona of Alexis, the confident and sophisticated woman you were tasked to portray. Natasha, too, seemed to slip effortlessly into her role as Joan, her demeanor shifting subtly to embody the elegance and grace expected of her character.

The resort exuded an air of opulence and sophistication, clear from the moment you stepped through the grand entrance. Freshly waxed marble floors stretched out before you, adorned with intricate patterns that spoke of craftsmanship and luxury. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings casting a warm glow over the lobby.

The atmosphere was alive with energy, as guests and staff moved through the various rooms. Busy chatter filled the air, mingling with the soft sounds of classical music that played softly in the background. 

Natasha and you navigated through the crowd with ease, wheeling your luggage behind you as a busboy trailed dutifully after you. The occasional glance was thrown your way, but everyone was much too busy trying to check into their rooms to do much of anything. 

As you and Natasha stood side by side, it was clear to you that each of you had your own way of assessing the situation. While you scanned the room for potential exits and assessed the number of staff and guests present, Natasha's focus was on the subtle nuances of the environment. She listened intently to the conversations around you, gauging the mood of the crowd and the flow of foot traffic with practiced precision.

Despite the amount of energy in the resort lobby, both of you remained calm and composed.  

“I told you we should have gotten here earlier,” A woman’s gruff and irritated voice floated from behind you. 

“Well, how was I supposed to know there would be people checking in on a Thursday?” The man argued. 

You exchanged a glance with Natasha as the voices behind you caught your attention. It seemed like a typical couple's bickering, but something about their tone piqued your interest. They sounded tense as if there was more beneath the surface than just a disagreement over timing.

Natasha subtly shifted her position, her body language indicating that she was now paying closer attention to the conversation behind you. 

“We're already late for check-in,” the woman continued, her frustration evident in her voice. “Now we're going to have to wait in line like everyone else.”

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” the man retorted defensively. “It's not my fault the traffic was so bad.”

As you moved ahead in line, a couple with a restless golden retriever cut off your path to get across. Hoping to avoid them, you stepped back, slightly losing your balance only to have Natasha press her left hand against your lower back to keep you steady. 

“Sorry!” The husband called behind him as they rushed outside the front doors. 

“Jeez, they almost knocked her over,” The woman behind you whispered to her husband, their bickering long gone. 

"Thanks," You murmured to Natasha, offering her a small smile of appreciation. 

“Is this okay?” Natasha leaned over to speak closer to your ear. She was referring to her hand on your back. You’d mentioned before how physical touch made you uncomfortable. Given that physical touch would be a must to sell as a fake couple, you would have to get over it. It was kind of her to ask. You nodded in response to Natasha's question, grateful for her consideration. 

"Yeah, it's fine," You replied softly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. 

You were finally up. The front desk attendant was a kind young girl with a slight gap in her teeth. She had the sweetest smile that you couldn’t help but match. 

“Hi, my wife and I are checking in,” Natasha spoke. “It should be under the last name White.”

The receptionist nodded, typing on the keyboard in front of her. "Ah, yes, Mrs. White," she confirmed, her fingers moving deftly over the keys. "I have your reservation right here. Welcome to Shady Corners Island Resort." She smiled warmly, handing over the room keys to Natasha. "I hope you don’t mind. Seeing as you’re newlyweds we took the pleasure of upgrading your room to one of our over-the-water bungalows. Free of charge. It’s our last one for the weekend.” 

"That's very generous, thank you," Natasha replied with a gracious smile, accepting the room keys. "We appreciate it."

“If you just wait right over there near the red bell a member of our staff will be able to lead you and one of the other couples over to the bungalow area,” She gestured to the right. 

"Sounds perfect," Natasha nodded, gesturing for you to follow her toward the designated waiting area near the red bell.

As Natasha and you made your way towards the waiting area, you overheard the couple behind you whispering to each other.

"I wish we could get an upgrade like that," the woman muttered.

"Yeah, but didn't you hear? The last room got booked by that couple in front of us," the man replied, disappointment evident in his voice.

You exchanged a glance with Natasha, silently acknowledging the stroke of luck that landed you the upgraded room.

As you and Natasha settled near the red bell, the couple with the restless golden retriever approached and stood next to you. The dog, clearly still restless, tugged on its leash, occasionally letting out a low whine.

You couldn't help but wonder how the dog was allowed in such a busy and upscale hotel, but you kept your thoughts to yourself, not wanting to make any assumptions. Instead, you focused on maintaining your composure and waiting patiently for the staff member to lead you to your bungalow.

“White?” An attendant approached the two of you and you answered with an enthusiastic nod. “And, Corcoran?”

“That would be us,” The woman answered. Her hair was a dark brown, beach curled, and flowing down her back. Her features were pleasant enough, with soft curves to her face and a warm smile. 

“Follow me,” The attendant gestured. 

As the attendant led the way, Natasha eventually dropped her hand from your back. You tried to ignore the sudden absence of her touch, focusing instead on the picturesque view of the overwater bungalows ahead. The path to the accommodations wound through lush gardens and over small bridges spanning the peaceful ocean. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the wooden stilts beneath the bungalows filled the air, creating a serene atmosphere.

“302 Sunset Retreat,” The attendant offered to take hold of your key card to show you how to get in. He demonstrated how to use the key card to unlock the door, sliding it into the slot and giving it a gentle push. With a soft click, the door unlocked, and he pushed it open to reveal the luxurious interior.

Once inside, the bellboy followed behind with your bags, placing them neatly in the living area before excusing himself, leaving you and Natasha alone in the bungalow.

The interior of the bungalow exuded tropical luxury with a modern twist. 

A plush king-sized bed adorned with crisp, white linens served as the focal point of the room.  The large windows offered stunning views of the crystal-clear waters below. 

In one corner of the room, a luxurious jacuzzi tub awaited, surrounded by lush greenery for added privacy. Nearby, a sleek waterfall shower, with glass doors, stood tall. 

A top-notch mini-bar stocked with an array of beverages and snacks stood against one wall, offering indulgent treats for your enjoyment.  Outside, a small patio beckoned with comfortable chairs, providing the perfect spot to sip a refreshing drink and soak in the breathtaking views of the surrounding lagoon.

The best part of the room was the cooler filled with champagne and wine. Along with the rose petals sprinkled over the tiny kitchenette counter. 

“Nice,” Natasha sighed as she stepped into the bedroom area of the bungalow. “Bed-sharing.”

“I know so cliche,” You shook your head as you grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge.

Natasha rolled her eyes playfully at your comment, her lips curling into a small smirk. "Well, we're committed to selling the whole 'newlywed' vibe, aren't we?" she quipped, her tone laced with sarcasm.

You chuckled, nodding in agreement as you twisted the cap off the water bottle. "Exactly. It's all about authenticity," you replied, taking a sip before gesturing towards the inviting bed. "Shall we test it out?"

“Test it out?” Natasha raised a brow. 

“Must I be the beauty and the brains in this relationship?” You mumbled. 

Natasha chuckled softly. "Careful, or you might bruise your delicate ego," she teased. "But sure, why not? It's been a long day." She walked over to the bed and flopped down onto it, letting out a content sigh.

“You’re lying on the bed with your outside clothes?” You asked incredulously.

“What? You said test it out?” Natasha frowned. 

 "Fair enough," You conceded, walking over to the bed and gingerly sitting down beside her. "But you're still breaking all the rules of hotel etiquette."

“I think we’ll survive,” Natasha closed her eyes. She needed a few minutes to process. 

“It’s so boring already,” You groaned as you began to look through the drawers beside the bed.

Natasha sighed, a hint of irritation in her voice. "Can't you sit still for a moment?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, continuing to rummage through the drawers. "I'm just trying to find something to pass the time. Being cooped up in this room isn't exactly thrilling."

Natasha rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "Well, try to contain yourself. We're here for a mission, not a vacation. Also, we’ve been here all of five minutes."

“Five minutes that I could have been in a bikini in the sun,” You said in a ‘duh’ tone. “Sun’s out bun’s out as they say.” 

“Are you sure you don’t have ADHD?” Natasha began to ask as she squinted her eyes. Was she analyzing you?

“What are you a psychiatrist? I thought that was my cover,”  You rolled your eyes. 

 "Who says I can't dabble in multiple professions? Besides, it's not exactly rocket science to see that you're a bit on edge like all the time,” Natasha pointed out. 

You raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Is that your professional diagnosis?"

"Consider it a layman's observation," She replied with a grin.

“Well, how about we observe someone by the pool? Come on Tasha,” You whined. 

“I thought I said no nicknames,” Natasha growled. 

“It’s not a nickname it’s just a shortening of your name,” You shrugged. “Also, you told me not to call you honey or baby. Nowhere did you say I couldn’t call you Tasha.” 

Natasha's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing. "Semantics."

You grinned mischievously. "Exactly."

She shook her head. "Let's just go observe by the pool, alright?"

----> part 5

#black reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader

[ronearoundblindly]

List of Dirty Asks (April 2024)

Dirty Asks from this game:

A - Alone Time with Steve Rogers

B - O - W - Bondage, Outdoor, and Water with Ari x Reader from Bedrock and Blueprints series

U - Underwear with Ransom Drysdale

L - S - Lighting and Sleepy Sex with Ransom x Reader from The Root of All Ransom series

I - N - R - Impact Play, Not Yet, and Routine for Jake Jensen

V - Voyeurism for Johnny Storm and Z - Zones for Lloyd Hansen

K - Kissing for Jake Jensen

K - L - S - Kissing, Lighting, and Sleepy Sex with Steve Rogers from Hideout series

K - Kissing with Ari Levinson

E - Extra Info with Jake Jensen

R - N - Routine and Not Yet with Steve Rogers from Hideout series and Fools Rush In series

B - F - Bondage and Food Play with Steve Rogers

Z - P - Zones and Photography for Steve Rogers x Reader from Fools Rush In series

A - Q - Alone Time and Quiet Please with Steve Rogers from Hideout series

E - Extra Info with Steve Rogers x Reader from Hideout series

S - Sleepy Sex with Jake Jensen

P - Photography with Jake Jensen

A - Q - Y - Alone Time, Quiet Please, and Yes, Master with Ransom Drysdale from before and after The Root of All Ransom series

A - D - E - Alone Time, Dominance, and Extra Info with Jimmy Dobyne from Common Education series

A - B - C - D - Alone Time, Bondage, Crying, and Dominance with Johnny Storm

A - K - Z - Alone Time, Kissing, and Zones with Curtis Everett

A - Q - P - Alone Time, Quiet Please, and Photography with Lloyd Hansen

D - S - Dominance and Sleepy Sex with Steve Rogers from Fools Rush In series

D - Y - Dominance and Yes, Master with Lloyd Hansen

W - Water with Steve Rogers x mermaid!reader from Sun, Salt, and Shield mini-series

C - Crying with CEO!Steve Rogers from It Had To Be You series

N - Not Yet with Ari Levinson

F - Z - Food Play and Zones with Nomad Steve Rogers from Hideout series

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

dividers by @/cafekitsune

#ask masterlist #drabble masterlist #dirty asks #ask game #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #nomad steve #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson imagine #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x female reader #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x y/n #johnny storm fanfiction #johnny storm x reader

[tommydarlings]

Pour it out | a.b

pairing: husband!austin x wife!reader

warnings: none

w/c: 1.1k

summary: At Jimmy fallon's infamous tonight show, a lot of interesting and funny answers get told, but not all the questions.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +20 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3 

“Okay, so this is how it works!” Jimmy suddenly spoke up as soon as the audience stopped clapping for you. After a few seconds of admiring the amount of people that came to see you tonight, you looked at jimmy standing right across your standing figure.

He went on explaining the game, “Each shot sits on a coaster, which has a personal question written on it, okay?” you nodded, raising your eyebrows while you tried to figure what´s in these little shots. 

“You will read the question silently but you will give your answer out loud.” he said. “And then you have to choose whether to share what the question was or you can take the shot and keep it a secret.” he finished off, eyes now on you instead of the camera which is showing all of this on live television. 

You nodded and smiled before jimmy spoke up again, “You must reveal at least one question during the course of the game.” 

“Oh okay, got it.” you told him. 

“So, tonight America is finally gonna get all the answers from me and y/n Butler, just not all the questions.” He laughed before the audience and you joined his tiny fit of laughter. “You ready Mrs. Butler?” he asked you with a grin as he turned his body towards his line of small shots. 

“I am ready Mr. Fallon!” clapping your hands together as you took a good look at your line of shots, furrowing your brows at the colours of them. 

“Alright y/n, you go first.” jimmy told you before you grabbed the round card made out of wood from beneath your shot, telling the audience and jimmy the name of the shot. 

You silently read the question in your head, furrowing your brows as a smile crept up on your face, jimmy and the audience already chuckling at your reaction to the question.

“Alright, So I’ll just answer it.” You asked the host with a smile. Jimmy immediately nodded his head, “exactly.” You bit your lip before answering the question that everybody was desperate to know,

“Vanessa Hudgens.”

Some people in the audience gasped as you tried to make out what jimmy was thinking about right now.

“Like in THE Vanessa hudgens, your husband’s ex girlfriend?” He quietly asked you, probably not a hundred percent sure if you are comfortable talking about this on live television.

After putting the wooden card back down onto the small table, you nodded, “yep.”

He thought about it for a few more seconds before he spoke up, “Are you gonna take the shot?” Pointing his pointer finger at your small, red shot.

“I feel like I can actually reveal the question.” You said right before the audience started cheering, jimmy raised his brows.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You told him as you picked the wooden card back up and told everybody your question.

“Which one of Austin’s exes do you like the most?”

The audience clapped while jimmy smiled and nodded along.

“Alright! My turn.” He claimed loudly as he picked his card up and answered,

“Michael Jordan.”

You furrowed your brows before you started to laugh, “what?” You asked him as the audience laughed along.

“Okay, look! I’m gonna do it just like you and reveal the question.” Jimmy loudly told everybody with a smile, picking his wooden card back up and reading the question, this time, out loud,

“Who was your worst kiss.” And you immediately started to laugh, just like the audience — clapping your hands together while jimmy desperately tried to explain everything.

“So! I met Michael Jordan on this charity event a few years ago and we greeted each other, like shaking our hands and then leaned in to kiss each other on the cheek.” Jimmy started to explain his answer while you tried to hide your laugh, covering your mouth with your hands.

“And I leaned in to kiss his left cheek but he leaned in to kiss my right cheek and then it… happened, yeah.” Jimmy finished with a chuckle, realising that this story is really weird.

After your small laughing fit, you picked your second card up, biting your lip as your eyes ran over the words writing on the small, hard wood.

“You have reveal at least one of these-, Oh wait, no! You’ve already revealed the first one so you don’t have to reveal that one anymore but… I would.” He said, shrugging his shoulders as the audience laughed along.

“I-, oh no, no, no, absolutely not! I cannot reveal this question.” You quickly told him, wiggling your pointer fingers from side to side as you did so.

“You cannot?” Jimmy gasped dramatically. You shook your head,

“No, definitely not but I can tell you the answer tho and the answer to this question is — yes, '68 comeback special suit.” You proudly teased the crowd and Jimmy.

“'68 Comeback special suit… like, the leather suit that Austin wore on the set of Elvis?” He asked you with a grin but you only shrugged with your shoulders before you drowned the blue shot.

“Alright!” Jimmy yelled through the big studio while the audience clapped, “I guess y/n really doesn’t wanna reveal the question.” He exclaimed before he picked his second card up and answered after everybody stopped clapping,

“Howard stern's house.” He muttered. With an open mouth, you tilted your head to the side but weren’t able to ask the host anything before he already picked his tiny shot up and also threw it down his throat.

“What?” You responded as the audience clapped once again. Jimmy sighed and put his shot glass down again before he looked up at you,

“You don’t wanna know, believe me.” Everybody laughed at Jimmy's statement before he spoke up again,

“Okay, last shot, it’s your turn y/n.” He stated before you picked your last wooden card up and read the question silently.

You smiled brightly, chuckling before you answered your question.

“Okay, well… I would say at least five times a week.” you gulped as jimmy smirked in your direction, probably already having a tiny clue about what your question could be.

He chuckled in a loud tone, “And what would Austin say?” The host teased you before the crown started to clap again.

You turned around and tried to hide your smile, biting your lip as you did so before you put the card down and quickly grabbed the last shot. Jimmy quickly reacted,

“Oh no, please tell us y/n!” He laughed but you only shook your head and put the shot glass back down onto the small table.

“Never.” You answered in a quiet tone, smirking as you did so.

You were pretty sure that most people already knew what question you got based on your answer but you still couldn’t say it.

Like Jimmy said, America’s gonna get all the answer's but not all the questions.

#fanfiction #fanfic #austin butler #austinbutler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x reader smut #husband!austin #dad!austin #smutty #jimmy fallon #pour it out #interview #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (2/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 2: Lights out, and away your feelings go!

Australia By mere luck, Toto had one of those sponsors' events in the afternoon, and he was wearing a Tom Ford tan suit with a white shirt, a classic ensemble, instead of his usual Mercedes kit.

And you, well, you looked so chic wearing a romantic Saint Laurent satin mini dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline paired with ribbon bowtie Jimmy Choo stilettos up to the occasion.

You wave Sam goodbye as she enters the car and returns to the hotel. And then Toto and you stay standing there, not knowing what to do next.

—So, at what time is the reservation? —Toto asks you.

—In two hours, it is downtown.

—Good. We are getting there on time, right?

—Oh yeah, we can go on my c... —You look at the empty space where your Lambo was parked - well, where Michael parked it, now empty and immediately take out your phone, shit! You left it on airplane mode. All messages and missed calls start to appear, red dots everywhere. Your assistant asked if you needed the car or if they had moved it to the hotel hours ago. Later, she sent the chauffeur to pick you up, but he couldn't reach you. He waited for you a long time and left.

—My team took my car, so...

—No worries. I can take us there.

"For sure you can!" you thought. Jesus, why were you so horny lately?

Toto then texts his chauffeur, and on your way, you two go; it was a quiet ride for a bit.

—So...

—So...

You both laugh at the back of the car.

—So our minds are connected, huh? —you joke, referring to your tendency to talk at the same time.

—It's becoming a bad habit, yes —Smiles. —I was going to ask you where have you been existing. Everyone close to me seems to know you, but they never mentioned it before; I feel left out; somehow, I have no idea who you are —Toto tells you.

—First of all, I take serious offense that neither Niki nor Sam mentioned me before; how dare they? And to answer your question in Belgium. I met Niki recently and Sam forever ago but she is pretty private so I guess that's why.

—Umh, I thought Sam and I had something special, but I'm calling it quits —Toto says. —She keeps secrets from me —putting on a fake sad face.

—Welcome to da' club. She's all Lewis's now.

-

Then, at the restaurant.

Toto and you were greeted by a blond supermodel-looking hostess who took you to your booked table. You entered the historical building - big old brown bricked walls, high ceilings with restored wooden beams, and dark marble tile floors - barely lit with just a couple of lights strategically placed reflected on the walls. The tables were small and intimate, and all the furniture was statement pieces - wooden carved and expensive textiles - the silverware and china were spectacular. The place was a printery back in the day, and it ended up in the middle of downtown and has now turned into a Michelin-starred restaurant.

The hostess acted extra caring with Toto, taking all the time to tenderly adjust his blindfold and explain every single step and detail of the dining experience. Since he couldn't see her, she went all handsy, relying on touch a bit much, and for obvious reasons, she tied your blindfold too tight. Really, girl?! Sorority like in where?

—So it's crucial for the experience when you give the food to each other, slowly savor the flavors and then start a conversation about each dish, what it made you feel, what reminded you of, what you thought it was, taking turns —she tells you two as she takes each your hand and makes you feel the space where a single plate full of finger food where to be placed - on top of a marble "lazy susan." —Please let me know if you need me —a lot of emphasis on "need me" and more addressed to Toto than you.

Wait, what?! Give each other the food?! What on earth?! You are so glad Toto isn't able to see you because, for sure, you are tomato red. Then you hear the hostess walk away.

—I frequent high-cuisine restaurants all over the world, yet I haven't dared with this one. It has so many mixed reviews —Toto tells you.

—I met the Chef at an auction gala for charity. He sat at our table and sold us the idea, which sounded exciting and intrigued me, so I told him I would stop by when in Melbourn —you add. He never mentioned that we had to feed each other during the experience.

A moment later, the dish arrived, and the experience began. Your hands were shaking a little bit. Your days went from ignoring Toto's bare existence to placing food into his mouth now.

—By all means, you go first —He offers you. Why did he have to be a gentleman?!

—Sure, thanks —You don't know where to start, so you pick a bite and stay there frozen when Toto notices it softly grabs your hand to guide you to his mouth to avoid you pocking him an eye with the food. Many "Oh god, oh god" fill your mind. You could sense him slowly biting the food from your fingers, his warm breaths on your skin, while hearing soft crunch noises.

He munches. And you wait, hand now resting on the table.

—Soft skin —he says.

—That is what it tasted you like?!

—No, of course not —Toto softly chuckles. —You have soft skin. The bite tasted like, amh, some sort of Gnocchi, but it wasn't. I'm not a big fan of this one and its flavor.

—So you like Italian cuisine?

—Everyone likes Italian cuisine, duh.

—Excuse you? That attitude, Sir! —you flirt, I mean, joke with him.

—Yes! I used to spend the summers in Italy with my family. It is a country that reminds me of my father. Cinque Terre has a special place in my heart.

—You miss your dad —You say before thinking, shit! Now he will assume that Sam and you gossip about him or think you Googled him. Shit! You are supposed to not know anything about him. Lol, if he knew. —It must be hard being away from family all the time with this busy schedule —Smart girl... Good save..?

He looks at you, a bit confused. —Ahm, yes. I miss my dad.

—Okay, it's my turn! —you shift topics quickly and naturally.

Toto picks up a small bite, and you wrap your hand around his wrist, guiding him to your mouth. Your thumb finger could feel his pulse, which weirdly relaxes you. You bite the food slowly, and your lips make a bit of contact, brushing the skin of his fingers.

—What does it taste you like? —he asks you. You try your best not to have dirty thoughts.

—Feet? God, this is awful —you answer while trying to chew the fucker.

Toto almost chokes on his water. Who calls feet a signature Michelin-star dish?

—I'm so hating this! I can't with pretentious places, to be honest. Uptight people are the worst!

—You tell me I live surrounded by those, but you will be fine. Why did you mention the uptight people?

—Send tips. Because there is no way an average person could have come up with this idea and this type of food! What are these flavors, honestly?!

—You are hilarious.

—Aw, thanks. What am I to you, a clown? Well, every circus needs one... I'm glad to help! Why do you keep laughing, stop!

—You are so right; F1 can be a circus! —Toto admits.

—So, what's your job at the F1 circus? No, seriously, don't laugh. TOTO STOP. Do you juggle or what? —You two keep reaching closer over and under the small table, knees now touching.

—Highly accurate! Or I could be that one guy on the tightrope! —He waves his arms.

—So meta. Listen, for us girls being the ones stereotypically called "catfight-ty," you guys...

—You have no idea! And it is just starting...

—Does the drama get too good? You are getting me excited! Don't play with my heart, Torger.

—I won't —Somehow, it sounds more profound and meaningful. Silence.

—Can we go back to the food, please? We are getting distracted from its delicious flavors —you say amidst giggles. —What? Don't you believe me? This dish is so good, "Latifi good".

Chuckles. Then you notice Toto left his right hand on top of yours this whole time.

With your free one, you pick up another portion. —Oh, you are going to love this one. Smells, uhm, so good. Wait for my soft hands to come closer —you tease Toto.

He loses it. People around you start judging you two; you are being "noisy."

—Why suddenly I don't want to open my mouth? I'm not helping you get there anymore. Find your way; if you miss it, then I'm so sorry.

—Oh, don't you worry, "Tots". I can always ask for more of these.

—Oh god, no.

The dining experience ended on the sixth small bite, thank Jesus. You two never walked out of a restaurant that fast, and none of you felt like staying to experience the drinks part, judging by the food.

But were in desperate need of refreshers. The night was now fully set, and the air was fresh. You two walk almost hand in hand on the sidewalk under the clear skies, choosing to explore the city, looking in the surroundings for a pub. You were lured by a very busy one - with live music - three drunk girls burst out of the door in a great mood, and it looked packed; then it must be good!

It was. —Do I ask to pour you a pint, too? Or are you on a diet or something? —Toto offers you on his way to get drinks. A great cover of "Your Love by The Outfield" played in the background. The singer had great vocals, and the guitarist was so talented.

—On a diet? God, no. I'm not that fit! Who gives that excuse? Who's that picky?

—There are people —Toto answers, a bit sad. You wonder if Sussie behaved like that. Of course, you don't dig.

While he goes on his mission, you find the last free table for yourselves. The place was what you pictured when someone said "pub". A classic, extensive wooden bar, tap beer, and tons of bottles on display. Small round tables, bar stools, and many empty frames hanging on the wooden panel walls mixed with art deco posters. It's nothing fancy but eclectic and cool.

As time passed, you two got drunk and the beers, too. You talked and talked and talked about everything. At least what you two wanted to share, obvious subjects were avoided. Toto didn't mention Sussie the whole time, and you chose not to reveal much about your "situation." The two of you formed a bond and had such chemistry none could explain. You were feeling so comfy with each other. He looked so happy and having a blast, and you were, too.

Then, the drinking contest started, and you sent your best knight to battle. You ended up sitting cross-legged on top of the bar with your short dress going up with your every move, surrounded by a group of people watching the spectacle - as well as the other couples of contestants - with Toto on his feet right next to you, resting one of his hands on your thighs. At the same time, you poured the beers directly into his mouth. The first one to finish a row of four pints with no pauses and successfully do "the loaded twirl" - four fast spins - then walk to ring the bell at the end of the counter - without falling - could leave not paying a penny, and win a cool metal medal too.

Toto sounded the bell first. And the place went fucking nuts.

By the end of your night out, you two couldn't even walk straight as you were being playful on the sidewalk on your way to meet your driver. At some point, you lost a heel while dancing, you knew how to move and rhythm was natural to you. Toto carried you around until a good soul gifted you his flip-flops; the poor unknown hero was so into you. Fantastic pubs and guys on flip-flops, thank you, Australia.

While rocking the stranger's flip-flops with your Saint Laurent mini dress, you were singing and throwing some moves on the street at the sound of "Notorious by Duran Duran" - it was the last song you heard the band played before leaving and got stuck in your head - it was around 4 a.m. by then.

Toto had his medal wrapped around his head, looking all stupid and hot. There is no sight of his suit jacket. He must have lost it when you took him to the bathroom - of course, you waited for him outside. He was too drunk to get there alone - or when you two started dancing, burning some of the alcohol in your systems.

There is something about him that makes you feel so many things, and you don't want the night to end. And you wanted to spend more time with him, listening to his voice, hearing his laugh, looking at his eyes, having his body near yours. You find him so attractive.

—I don't remember the last time I had this much fun; it must have been ages ago! —he says, way too loud and drunk.

—Me too! We should do this again! Are you sure it's here? —you reply, looking around. No cars in sight.

—Yes! I'm not that drunk. Here is where the pin marks —he says, looking too closely into his phone. His nose almost touched the screen, looking at the map.

—Let me see.

—Nein —He raises his phone, extending his arm, placing it out of your reach. You jump to grab it, failing miserably. You ended up bumping him instead. Balance isn't a thing for any of you at the moment. And you both get closer. At some point in the night, you two started to behave like magnets, unable to keep away from each other, all handsy. Toto places a hand on your lower back to steady you.

You aren't sure if the sensation you are feeling is the alcohol in your system or the butterflies in your stomach.

—You are so carefree. Zero pretentious. So fun. So captivating, so... —Toto says in such a dangerous voice, staring at your lips with his fingers, placing your hair behind your ear.

You two get closer.

—So..? —You beg him to continue, staring at his lips too. You take the lead and start closing the distance between you.

It's been a while since either of you had sex in your lives.

Or love.

He looks at you with desire and affection but without moving an inch. Then Toto decides to take a step back.

That distance feels like miles, and the car arrives. Ending an almost perfect night.

You feel ashamed since you overstepped and carried yourself away. None of you mentioned what just happened on the ride back to the hotel.

-

Spending time with you starts to feel like a necessity to him now.

Toto is standing there, left shoulder leaning against the bar wall near where the band is playing, sipping his beer, watching you dance with some strangers, glowing and smiling, and having fun among those girls while he admires your curves and body movements. You have the magic to make him forget about the rest of the world, its people, and its problems. Going out with you tonight felt like healing, like self-care. 

After days of being heartbroken, Toto called things off with Sussie, which was not an easy choice. She was the love of his life, or so he thought, and after spending a significant portion of your life with someone, saying goodbye to that person is never easy.

Even if tonight was great and felt like a lucid dream, he couldn't escape reality forever. This Cinderella story had an end.

Of course, he notices the way you look at him. The attention you pay to his every word, your excitement every time you make him smile, or how you lean closer to his touch whenever the two of you make accidental - or not - contact.

But he wasn't ready for you. Of course, he would love to make a move and enjoy the whole of you, explore your every corner, trace your hips with his hands, and feel your body beneath his, making you release sounds he would love to hear. He wanted to fuck you badly, but you weren't just for a one-night stand.

You deserved someone who could fully admire you. That worshiped you. And Toto wasn't able to be that guy at the moment. He felt wounded and needed time for himself.

So, when you had the courage he lacked to make the move, knowing that if he accepted that kiss, you would wake up tangled in his sheets, he stepped back.

Seeing your surprised, embarrassed, and hurt reaction spiraled him into coming days of somber mood and turned into a quiet ride back to the hotel.

-

Once you reach your destination, the driver opens the car door for you, and you step out of it, praying your balance has returned. After that fiasco ending of the night, all the alcohol in your system seems to have evaporated thanks to that emotional gut punch Toto gave. You glimpse Toto catching your step, walking now as normal as you.

You two may be walking seemly normal now but your looks scream drunks, loud and clear! - messy hair and clothes, not to mention your flip flops, a thing that made you smile as you remembered the now distant memory - as you passed by a floor-to-ceiling mirror on the way to the elevators.

The bellboy pushes the buttons to open the elevator doors for you.

—On which floor is your room? —he asks.

—Oh, no, we aren't...

—Eleven —you answer a little deadpan, interrupting Toto.

—Fourteen —he mumbles.

As you two go up, you start saying goodbye, also wanting to cut the tension a bit. —It was a fun night, "Tots"! My liver may disagree, but we'll see —you smile.

—Yeah, yeah, it was, except for that horrid food —he replies.

—Let's not, let's bury that part.

He nods with a small smile. The door opens on your floor. You smile at him one last time and head out.

Toto wants to say, "Wait!" or follow you down that corridor, inviting himself to your room and bed, but instead, he remains just standing there, and the elevator goes up.

-

You take your time to walk down the corridor, hoping there is still a chance, till you hear the sound of the elevator's doors closing and following it, total silence, no footsteps, no movement. So you let out a sigh and get inside your room.

You are left facing a feeling of emptiness and solitude as you walk across the empty and dark suite with your surviving heel in hand, and then you toss it across the room on the carpet. You enter the shower and start washing your make-up and body off, letting your mind wander to the idea that the two of you could be there right now.

So, a bit defeated by not having Toto's naked and wet body before you, you send yourself to bed, struggling to fall asleep and shut down your brain; after a while, you feel yourself drifting away in the arms of Morfeo - and sadly not Toto's.

-

—He thinks I'm captivating and have soft hands —you say while giggling like a teenager, adding sugar to your Chai at the end of the counter. Already in a better mood, trying to look at the bright side of things.

—Soft hands??? —Sam replies, making a silly face and grabbing a napkin.

You two meet on your way to get Starbucks, located two buildings away from the hotel. You are still hungover and need fuel before stepping into the paddock.

—You know, never mind. I don't want to know —Sam adds, biting her bagel.

—Oh, wait. No. Nothing like that happened —you wave your hands in concern.

—Calm down; you know he and Sussie are in the middle of a time-off. Nothing wrong if it had happened. He has been in such awful moods lately that I think he needs it to happen. This time, their breakup seems real.

—Really!?

—Can you at least don't sound that excited? Oh god, you are smiling. I hate love —Sam sips her black coffee, rolling her eyes at you.

—Leave me live my fantasy, alright? —praying sign, you joke.

—Now you will be all weird around him, won't you?

—Nooo, well, maybe a little. What? Like you don't ship us.

—Puff —Sam lets out.

—Oh, you fed me way too many details about him for years and set us up last night just because, huh?

—Okay. Fair. I sold you the idea. Am I clever, or what? Listen, I care about you two a lot, and frankly, I think you are great for each other.

—Ooh, so Sam Dobrev has a heart.

—Shut up! Please don't make me regret it —she replies, all done with life.

-

—Hi, big guy —Sam pops her head inside Toto's office, simultaneously knocking on the open door.

—You owe me one —Toto answers deadpan. Concentrated, looking straight at his iPad, not bothering to look at her.

—Why?

—That restaurant you made me go to was horrible.

—Well, I didn't pick the place, so no whines to me, but at least the company was fantastic, right?

—Umhju —Toto mutters, still looking at the screen. Then silence.

Sam interprets that answer as I'm not telling you anything else.

—Since you are here trying to gossip. Aren't you busy? If you have free time, you could help me with several things.

—Jeez, that mood. I'm not here to gossip. Here, sign this. Niki needs it.

Toto reads the paper Sam just gave him and picks up his phone. —I need to make a call. Would you mind closing the door on your way out? Thank you.

—Okay —Sam answers slowly and exaggerates the "O" while doing what was asked. Even she knows messing with a somber Toto wasn't a good idea.

Unfortunately for you, no gossip or insights of your night out were obtained from Toto.

-

It was a Grand Prix victory for Lewis. And a third place for Mick, but since it was his first podium, you guys celebrated as if he had just won the race. Sadly, Millie got pulled out of the track for a technical issue with the car.

You were hoping to chitchat with Toto at the podium ceremony, make him laugh a little, and watch his beautiful smile. Well, you hoped that the entire day, actually. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Until you spotted him in the distance, there was no casual way to start a conversation with him that way, and you didn't want to be perceived as pushy or desperate going straight to him. So you let the idea die. There was no rush.

If something was meant to be, it will happen without forcing things.

Right?

-

Azerbaijan

On the paddock in Baku, Toto chose to behave the opposite of that night in Melbourne. Serious, professional, and borderline unfriendly - but still polite.

That caught you off guard, and it was so confusing. After spending that great time together, you thought you two were on your path to becoming friends or more if luck was on your side. You didn't get the sudden change, and it was a bit hurtful when you went to say hi to him - all warm and smiling - and he gave the cold shoulder with a blunt "Good morning" and kept on walking.

You stood there looking a bit stupid, wondering if you did something to bother him or if he was acting Austrian. Maybe Toto was feeling really uncomfortable by how you approached him at the end of that night. Damn, drunk you!

But then, a couple of hours later:

"Unknown" is typing...

—Darci told me you left your office to have lunch. But I'm here outside your hospitality and don't see you - Toto.

Your assistant gave him your number. —Hi!!! Yes, I'm here having lunch.

—Where? I'm wearing my good glasses, and I'm sure you are not that bald guy eating a salad.

—Sandro is a very nice guy. Look up, grandpa!

—The rooftop? What are you, a pigeon?

No joke in reply, just an honest: —I like the view from here. It's peaceful! Bonus points for being private. No one bothers me here or intrudes. It's my secret special place. Do you want to join?

Toto finishes climbing the ladder and goes to greet you, kissing you on the cheek. As he does so, a crazy thought crosses your mind: What if you turn your head? Is stealing a kiss considered harassment? But you don't.

You two share your homemade Yakimeshi - you love cooking even if you have a private Chef, and you are damn good at it, well, according to everyone that has eaten your food, so you ask the hotel to get you the fresh ingredients you need - while talking about the day, sharing ideas, throwing shade, and enjoying each other's presence.

—What a diva! —you reply, grabbing a portion with your chopsticks.

—I know. I expected better, but engineers... you know —Toto shrugs.

—Ye! —you agree. Sometimes, they acted, well, a little bit challenging.

Toto was acting so relaxed and casual as you expected him to be, and not what was going on in the morning. You wonder so badly why there is a change in ways, but you don't dare to ask.

"What if he has bipolar disorder?" a question that came to your mind at some desperate point during your day. Not that there was something wrong with that.

The sun is setting, and you two enjoy the view, sitting next to each other - no space in between - He places his arm around you, palm resting next to your left hand, but without making physical contact.

This becomes a routine for you two, lunching together on the rooftop of the W hospitality, away from the rest of the world, in your private little bubble. It becomes your favorite moment of the day. And Toto's, too, even if he swore he would never like routine.

-

Miami

—Excuse me, excuse me, how did the tire taste you like? —you tease a very solemn Lewis walking past you on the paddock while you pretend to hold an invisible mic at his face, acting like a reporter. An instant smile forms on his lips.

—Roscoe attack! —Lewis commands.

Roscoe stares at him for a second and then wanders to sniff a palm tree, not caring.

—I think your trick didn't work —you get closer to greet him with a hug.

—He is too lazy for that —he tells you while embracing you.

—You are too cute; don't listen to that man! —you say with a silly voice, addressing Roscoe, letting Lewis go, and flexing to pet the dog, rubbing around his ears, which Roscoe seems to enjoy.

It was a Qualy of hell for Mercedes. Lewis's car's back tire flew out into the air before bouncing on a safety barrier at speed, almost hitting him back. Plus, George's car ended up in the gravel after losing power.

In contrast, Williams did great. Mick was one with the car, achieving the day's fastest lap.

—Feeling better, sweetie? —you ask Lewis with honest concern, after seeing the incident unfold and how he made it out of the car really distraught.

Although you must admit that even though that whole thing wasn't funny, the memes were pure gold, so you texted Toto your pick: the one where the tire hit the space station with a photoshopped explosion, the one with Lewis's face photoshopped on a baseball player hitting a home run, but instead of the ball it was the tire and your favorite, the one with photoshopped Toto, Lewis, and George riding the tire to the sky.

—Yeah. I'm good. A positive mindset always helps, thanks.

—I think I just saw you kicking, crying, and screaming in the bathroom, Mr. Positive Mind Set —Sam joins the conversation, teasing him.

—HA HA

—So, what's the plan for tonight-A? —she asks.

—Noone human says tonight like that. Not even Michael Jackson on drugs —you tell Sam.

—We are in Miami, chica! Aren't we clubbing?! —she replies.

—Are you high?

—I will if we go out...

—You realize we are here for work, right? —Lewis asks her.

—Like we haven't done it before. What's the worst that could happen? Toto finding out? You losing the race? Toto, finding out you lost the race because you went out clubbing with us?

—Yes! —you all answer at the same time. —To all of that —you add.

—Well, not if Toto comes with us...

Lewis starts laughing like a madman. —Sam, are you suggesting convincing Toto to go clubbing with us the night before the race so he doesn't get mad if he finds out we went clubbing?

—I got lost, mate —George arrives, earing that last part, trying to figure out what the hell.

—Well, I'll not be convincing him. Y/N is.

—ME?!

—If you really love me, you will —Sam pushes you toward the Mercedes' motorhome.

Gaslighting a bit much?

-

How am I supposed to do this? I'm going to sound so unprofessional. Although, technically, you two went out pub-ing?? and got drunk the night before the race in Australia. Okay, that made-up word sounds terrible; let's never use it again, so there may be a slight chance to relive that.

At least you needed to practice your words before going in there since "Hi, Toto, wanna go clubbing?" wasn't an option but destiny was a bitch; you two crossed paths before you had the opportunity to rehearse. Toto was on his way back to his office; he left his badge access on his desk. He seemed surprised to see you there; you were far away from the Williams' grounds. So you are forced to improvise.

—Are you looking for Sam?

—No, not really, not this time.

—Oh. Niki?

—Nope.

—Lewis?

—You.

Toto was now standing right before you with his hands in his pockets, all tall and handsome. You liked him even more when he wore his reading glasses.

You start a bit shy; Toto has a powerful presence. —I heard Miami has excellent places, and because last time I made you join me for that awful dining experience, I thought maybe we could go out and have a good time but in a better establishment.

—Tonight?

He sounds slightly judgy. You go on: —I was talking with the guys, and they mentioned "Floyd." It sounds great...

—The guys?

—Sam and Lewis, and George...

—Ooh, they sent you? Sam!

Oh boy.

—The cocktails sound goo...

—I'm not taking my drivers drinking or to a nightclub before the race or allowing it. It's ridiculous —Toto interrupts you again.

You look at him, now slightly nervous and bummed out.

—None of us is going; it's not happening —Toto adds firmly.

Yeah... He was a pro at the top of his game. Of course, he cared about discipline, mindsets, and winning races and titles; what were you thinking?!

You nod apologetically. Your eyes look a bit sad, well, because... You don't need to explain why. Just start turning around to head back and tell them the news.

—Wait! We could go to "Basement", which has a bowling alley and a DJ. But no drinking! Not even a drop for anyone; we must return to the hotel at a reasonable hour. Do you like that? That makes you happy?

—Sounds perfect to me —your smile is big and bright. Did Toto change his mind to please me?

-

To make things even, you end up bringing Millie and Mick. You wanted to make clear you weren't playing unfair tactics with your opponents. You earnestly desired to spend a good time with the people you began to care about.

The place was all for yourselves. It was a club slash bowling alley with colorful neon lights reflecting on the lanes, varying intensities and colors to the DJ's beats. It was a dope place.

Lewis invites Seb. They two took bowling seriously and had a years-long competition. They show you a list of their scores on Lewis's iPhone going back to the dark ages.

Bono also shows up, and Carlos and Lando, too, God knows how.

Lando starts stretching right in front of you, warming up, and making eye contact with you while doing his poses in a bit too sexual and exaggerated way. Samanta and you start laughing at him for acting all idiot. You two sit on the bowling benches while drinking Coke and eating popcorn.

—Every group needs a slut —you tell Lando.

—I don't think you are impressing her, man —Carlos joins, watching the spectacle, on his feet.

—It reminds me of when little children warm up before jumping into the pool —you kill Lando with your words.

—You have never seen legs like this —he tells you, overconfident. All of you laugh. —But, I will fight for your heart, malady. Is there another knight brave enough to face me in a bowling fight to the death?

—But what's the prize?! —Seb screams across all lanes.

—A NIGHT with the princess —Lando claims.

—Keep dreaming, sweetie —you reply.

—A KISS from the princess —he backtracks.

—Fine! Everyone, write your names here! —Sam takes a Post-it and a pen out of her purse - an assistant's habit - and passes them around.

—WHAT?! What are you doing?

Sam starts folding the papers and mixing them up. —The council calls Sir Hamilton to the pit!! Please choose your horse and weapon for the fight (lane and bowling ball) —Sam reads Lewis's name from the paper she picks up, and then she selects another one. —Warrior Dobrev to the fight! —cheers are heard, and Mick and Carlos pat Millie on the arm and back; Vettel massages her shoulders when she stands by her approach area. —Knight Wolff to the pit! And last but not least, Warrior Bonnington, too! —there were only five lanes. —You all brave souls are to fight buffoon Norris for a kiss of the Lady. Lord Vettel and I will oversee the combat.

—Hey! —Lando complains, pouting. Then, George starts motivating him, and they start making stupid grunts and jumps before the bowling round begins.

—The battle commences now! —Sam calls.

—You really need to stop watching House of the Dragon —you tell her.

—It's official: Bono is the worst player I have seen —Vettel interrupts, watching Bono be the first to get disqualified. —Is it okay if I leave you a second? If I don't go and bother Lewis every time to time, I get anxious —Sebastian sweetly tells you.

—Go, honey —You pat his hand and let him go. You two were watching the competition unfold together.

Lando, Lewis, and Toto were really good at it, but Millie was in a league of her own.

—How can someone so tiny have such a steady grip? —Lewis tells her she was in the lane next to his.

—Lew, I gladly would share with you all my secrets if I wasn't determined to win this —Millie replies.

—So you really want to kiss her? —he is curious, and a little smile forms on his lips.

—Look at Y/N, I wouldn't mind, but I don't want to. I think all five of us here hate losing... or love winning. Well, except for Lando, I believe he truly wants to kiss her.

"Not just him," Lewis thinks, looking in Toto's direction. After years of being teammates, he could read him like a book. It isn't just Sussie who has him shifting moods. Since you appeared, Toto began to act all weird. When Lewis noticed the looks you both exchanged, everything made sense to him.

And another fantastic strike from Lando.

Millie was almost right. Lewis loves winning and hates losing, but not when friends or feelings are in the middle. A lesson Sebastian taught him. So Lewis prepares and throws the worst shot he has ever made. His bowling ball bounces, hits the gutters, and invades the next lane, instantly disqualifying him.

Hisses and laughs fill the room. Lewis turns around, shrugs, smiles, and goes to take a seat. A minute later, he feels a thumb rubs his neck, caressing it. —Sir Hamilton, my good Sir, you sure are an honorable and respectable fellow —Sebastian tells him with his best Shakespearean voice.

—Stop talking like that, please.

—It doesn't please you how this low-grade peasant talks, good Sir?

The face Lewis gives him is priceless. Vettel laughs, and Lewis slides closer to him on the bench.

A loud "AAARGGH" comes from Lando as he dramatically throws himself to the floor. Wooff, what an awful shot.

—Luck next time, Lando! —Sam teases him as Carlos and George pass by, carrying him to the benches, one grabbing him by the legs and the other by the arms. Out of the competition, he was.

Now, it was a Dobrev vs. Wolff clash.

—Make our house name proud, niece! —Sam yells at her.

—You are having too much fun, aren't you? —you tell her.

—Sorry —Sam covers her face with her hands, monkey emoji-like. —Your knight made it to the final. Good for you, girl, but Millie is ruthless, so...

—I know! I can't watch any more. I'm too nervous! I feel like I will puke if Toto wins or if he loses.

—...she misses.

—WHAT?!

Okay, okay, this wasn't happening. Oh God. Sam turns to you and gives you a smile The Grinch will envy.

—Knight Wolff wins the battle! And takes the princess! —Sam announces. You shoot her a dead glare. —...'s kiss

Cheers are heard. Then everyone gets on their feet and starts chatting and bowling. Laughs and mocktails fill the room.

You pass Lando, still lying on the bench, on your way to get a drink. Now you need tequila in your system. —Oh, I'm so wounded! Only a kiss on the lips would heal me —he tries, offering his arms to you. The kid has the material to be an actor.

—Carlos!! Lando needs you!! —you joke back in answer, smiling at him. Lando gets on his feet in less than a second. —All good, I feel better! —he tells you, chuckling.

Toto is there when you reach the bar, sipping a whiskey on the rocks. —Not a drop of alcohol, you said? —you mock him.

—And you are here to ask for a Coke, right? —he teases you.

—A Paloma, please —you ask the bartender. —You could be a professional bowling player —Please let that become a meme, you think, and an image of a Toto in a complete bowling outfit surrounded by a group of senior citizens with white hair comes to mind.

—You picture it; that's why you are smiling.

—Nooo...

He arches an eyebrow.

—Fine. I admit it! —you sit on the bar stool next to him and rest an elbow on the bar counter, smiling like an idiot and gazing at Toto until he notices it and gets on his feet. 

—I haven't seen you play, let's go! —he tells you.

—Oh, if this really were the old ages and it was me who had to fight for your hand, consider yourself single for the rest of your life...

-

You all arrive together at the hotel and walk inside the lobby, making a lot of noise.

—Shuusshh!! Zack doesn't know I'm not in my room! —Lando whispers, looking around.

—Sure, he is hiding behind that plant, Lando. That old fart is so fucking asleep in his bed, mate! Calm down! —Vettel adds.

—Hey! You haven't kissed Toto yet —Lewis recalls and addresses you.

—Right! Give him his prize! —Mick adds.

You feel your cheeks turning red. —Are you all going to stare and make it all weird?

—YES! —everyone answers.

—You guys suck! —you complain, pretending to be annoyed at them.

—Not as much as I would like to. WHO SAID THAT?! —Millie dirty jokes, looking around.

—Millie Alexandria Dobrev! —Sam shouts, shocked. —I can't believe you...

Between giggles and two Croatians fighting in the background, you kiss Toto for the first time.

With your left hand, wrap Toto's bicep and rest your right on his chest as you reach his lips on your tiptoes. The kiss is brief, delicate, more like a brush of lips, but it is enough to make the butterflies in your stomach go wild and to still be on cloud nine when you reach your room.

-

Monaco

You were so excited to be officially living in Monaco. It was your first week there, and you had never lived on your own before. And since Sam also resided there, you spent lots of time together. You two were enjoying the break and touring the city around.

Miami went terrific, and that kiss still made rounds on your head.

Sam and you were walking in the area close to your new place when you turned the corner and were greeted by this scene: A furious Monegasque girl screaming at the top of her lungs in French words that did not sound nice at all and throwing objects out the window while a man on the street was trying to picking them up and reason with said girl. Some people were staring, and others were rushing to pass by.

—Is that Charles?! —Samanta asks you, stunned, pointing to the guy crouched and picking up what looked like a pair of Jordan's.

Yeah, that was Charles Leclerc. You two look at each other concerned and rush to help.

—Hi —Sam shouts among the screams in French.

—Oh, hey, Sam —Charles looks pretty embarrassed.

You quickly offer him the almost empty tote bag you were carrying and speed walk to grab an open, worn-out cardboard box from the greengrocery next door. The three of you start getting his things inside while avoiding getting hit by the last objects thrown out.

—Thank you —he says to you. —My girlfriend went mental.

All of you hear a loud bang and look up; she shuts the windows dramatically. "More like ex-girlfriend now" you think.

—Merde —you hear Charles say. —My keys and wallet are inside there, fuck!

You can't avoid feeling bad for the guy. He looks so done with life right now.

—Ahm, Charles, if you want to join us, we are grabbing lunch. We can grab some cocktails, too; I'll treat you guys. You seem in desperate need of alcohol and a chat.

—You're right, I need alcohol, thank you. I would love to.

The three of you walk your way to a restaurant Charles loves. It was pricey, but you agreed to let him pick the place since you were spoiling him and trying to lift his spirits.

—Huff, why are all the streets in Monaco inclined? —you complain after climbing the fourth hundred stairs of the day. —On the bright side, tho, I just need to live here to skip leg day at the gym.

Charles laughs. That's good!

The face the hostess makes when you three arrive and place the second-hand cardboard box with Charles's things on the fancy counter - clothes, some books, sneakers, a Funko Pop of Charles himself for some reason, and what looks like Xbox controllers, a man's most prized possession - makes it worth it almost losing your legs to get there.

—Good evening. Table for three? Right this way. Terrace, as usual, Mr. Leclerc? —she asks.

—Yes, please.

You are led to your table. It was a sea-inspired high-cuisine restaurant. The ceiling of the place had a breathtaking art installation: A whale made from bamboo wind chimes. —The waiter is on his way; here is the food and mixology carte —she offers you. It takes you a long time to read the entire selection.

—Ask for whatever you guys want; the check is on me. Don't hold back —you offer them.

—Great, then! It would be two spritzes instead of one, please! —Sam gestures with her fingers at the waiter, who is already taking your order. Sam seems so happy and excited; for someone who grew up that rich, she loves getting stuff for free.

—I would like a Tequila and Tonic with two tequila shots, please —you finally choose.

—A margarita and two shots of tequila for me. To start —Charles orders.

The drinks arrive quickly. At the same time, you hear everything about Charles' toxic relationship, giving him the space to spit it all out; as more alcohol makes it to the table, the more details you get.

After a good couple of hours of free therapy, high cuisine, drinks, relationship advice, and tragic love stories, it got dark.

—Well, it was a damn good chat! I'm glad we were able to help you, my friend. But we better go —Sam says to Charles. —I'm walking you back to your place —she addresses you. —I have to wake up early tomorrow. Toto wants me to join the Mercedes' Zoom call at 7 a.m., and I don't want to see his annoying, angry face at me.

The thought of an angry Toto makes you bite hard the tiny chocolate cake you are eating as dessert.

—Oh, no worries! It's just all the way down the street; I will get there without problems —you say while savoring the remains of your cake.

—Are you sure? —She inquires. You forgot how protective of you Samanta was, even if she was younger than you.

—Yeah, go, go. It's never a good idea to make an Austrian guy angry —You joke.

Charles choked on his drink, laughing. —Sweet Lord.

Sam giggles, hugs you two goodbye and waits for her Uber.

—It's late, I'll walk you. There are plenty of good hotels near your building and the marina; since I'm not going home, I need to book a room —Charles mentions.

—If you don't mind, you can crash at my place; there's not much furniture yet, but you are welcome to stay —you tell Charles. He seems relieved.

Charles sees what you meant with "not much" - just a small table with no chairs, one kitchen counter stool, a mattress in the bedroom, another on the living room floor, and some boxes, making the place look way bigger - as you two enter your apartment.

—I just got the keys —you excuse yourself.

—Oh wow, this view reminds me of my grandparents' apartment view from growing up —He reaches the balcony fast. —Oh, look, you can see the old side of Monaco from here! Good memories! —He ignores your comment, not caring much about the furniture or decor.

He seems in a better mood than before.

—Well, let me know if you need anything. Sleep well! —you say, on your way to your bedroom.

—Thank you, good night!

You hear noises outside your bedroom's open doors a few minutes later. Charles moves his mattress nearer the plug on the wall and connects the charger you lent him to his phone. With that change in the arrangement, you are both placed facing each other in different rooms and with distance in between.

Since none of you seemed able to fall asleep that night, you better keep chatting, each of you resting your back against the wall, relaxing, and him crossing his arms behind his head.

—So you are besties with Sam?

—Yes, she was one of the first people I met when I arrived in Belgium —you answer and look out of your bedroom's massive floor-to-ceiling window to the beautiful sea and the tiny-looking lights of Monaco. He stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

—So, how was growing up here? —You ask him and were sincerely curious but also want to switch the subject of conversation from you to him.

He tells many anecdotes of his childhood and buzz about some of the high society Monegasque families. He seems to enjoy gossip, and you are here for it.

Until you feel your eyes shutting down and fall asleep with the sound of his voice.

-

Two weeks later, Charles was still staying at your place; there was no furniture yet, however. By the third week, you arrive home, and all of Charles' things are filling the space. He moved "his bed" to one of the guest bedrooms and packed the living room with boxes. His piano starts serving you two at your dining "table." You always ate there, sitting, standing, taking turns: breakfast, Charles, lunch, you, etc.

He is just one box away from officially becoming your roommate. Of course, you don't mind. After many years of feeling alone, you desperately needed a friend and its company.

Charles' wireless speaker is the most significant addition to the apartment; it was never turned off, both of you being obsessive music maniacs, constantly introducing new music and artists to each other.

It is your turn to pick a song, and you want to lift the spirits while unpacking boxes and arranging things, so you turn the volume all up and hit play. Bad Bunny's "Yo perreo sola" started blasting.

You start singing and dancing to the beat, shaking it, and then Charles joins you in the chorus, singing the lyrics perfectly and throwing some great dance moves. You two start twerking.

—You know this song? Wait, you speak Spanish?! —you ask loudly, almost screaming. The music is so loud.

—My mom is Colombian. Didn't I mention that? My dad is the Monegasque one. I know my reggaeton and merengues by heart —he screams back. —I know all the good clubs in the city with this type of music, we should go and dance our asses off.

—Oh, for sure we are!

Another level of friendship is unlocked.

-

The three of you are inseparable. It is the weekend, and Charles took you and Sam on his boat sailing to an excellent spot to take a swim. Coronas, good music, sun, and fresh water fill your day.

You came up with a competition to see who jumped out of the boat the funniest way because you three were dumb. Charles wins by jumping and agitating his arms and legs like an old cartoon falling or very Gaga at the Super Bowl. Your stomach hurts from laughing, and your face from smiling.

After that, you all lay flat on your stomachs like iguanas under the sun, getting tan atop the boat; you don't remember a day nearby when you felt so happy. You felt at home with those two by your side.

-

It was around 4 a.m. and pitch black when Charles was suddenly awakened by sorrowful sounds coming from your bedroom.

He rushes and quickly opens the door, not caring to knock. He finds you crying, curled in your bed; you look like a total mess with red eyes, messy hair, and softly shaking, and Charles reacts like a headless chicken, pacing frantically around the room before getting to his senses and starting supporting a very troubled you.

—I got an idea that could help you feel better! —he tells you.

—Yeah?

—You trust me?

You nod.

—Let's go! —he offers you his hand and leads you out.

You take the lift to the basement parking lot, where Charles' Ferrari is all poorly and crocked parked outside lines of your apartment's parking spaces - that man was a great driver but terrible at parking - next to it is his powerful Ducati Panigale black motorbike is waiting for you.

Soon, you two are on his bike, crossing the streets of Monaco at full speed. Getting further away from the city and into the road. You tightly wrap your arms around him as he tells you you are entering the highway, and he begins to speed, pushing the bike's engine.

You could feel the fresh nightly ocean breeze hitting your body and entering your pores, every time more violently as you moved and Charles kept speeding up. You could see the full moon reflecting on the ocean waters. It was a clear night, with no stars in sight.

You love the rush and adrenaline of this speed ride. Charles speeds even more, and you hear the violent roar of the motor, the bike reaching its maximum. Then, in that brief moment, you get why all drivers are passionate about F1. Now you get it. Your sad tears become happy ones. You have never experienced something like this before, and it makes you feel so alive. The air feels so cold and harsh at the speed you are going that you almost feel it cutting your skin. It is a sensational feeling.

Charles then starts to slow down till he parks the bike and turns the engine off, helping you get on your feet, and you two lay on the grass after arriving at the destination.

—What a view! —you let out. The two of you are far away from the city, and you can see Monaco at the distance from the cliff you are on top of.

—This is my secret spot. I have been coming here since I was young when I felt I needed to clear my mind or wanted to escape everything. This view humbles you and calms you down at the same time —Charles confesses.

—Thanks for sharing it with me —you say to him, extremely grateful.

—It's the least I can do.

You can hear the waves hitting the cliff rock below you, and you admire the infinite ocean in front of you. The two of you sat there for a long time.

—Whenever you feel ready to talk about it. To open up about your past, who you are, or why you cried tonight, I will be here to listen —Charles offers you, breaking the comfortable silence. He is a kind and sweet person, a good person. And you aren't used to that.

He places his hand on top of yours just briefly, and you feel so happy to have a friend, to have him, no love feelings, no desire in between, just genuine friendship and honest support. 

He deserves the truth, and you want to let him know, but you are afraid of the repercussions. You don't want to get judged or, worse, to lose him.

-

Charles has been paying attention to you these past weeks and has noticed how you avoid or change subjects whenever your past or private life gets mentioned.

Every day that passes, he gets to know you more. It is just a matter of time before the truth comes out.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fic #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 fluff #toto wolff x y/n #seasonoflovefic #toto wolff fanfiction #toto wolff #toto wolff x team principal reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #mercedes fanfic #sewiss #charles leclerc x you #lewis hamilton x you #formula 1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #my works

[floisahoe]

P4 - Lewis Hamilton x Singer!Reader

Lewis Hamilton x Singer!Reader - Instagram AU

Y/n_y/l/n

Liked by lewishamilton, y/n_stan, and 1, 577,315 others

y/n_y/l/n Thank you so much Jimmy for having me! Un Fiore was incredible to perform for you all 🖤

View all 718, 414 comments

rosalia.vt what an amazing performance!!

y/n_fan Please please please announce a tour  🥺

lewis_updates liked by Lewis

Y/n_updates

Liked by y/n_y/l/n, f1.gfs_updates, and 147,965 others

y/n_moments Y/n providing us with this weeks C R U M B S

View all 918,784 comments

y/n_fan me totally not searching the internet for everything relating to her and lewis 😬

y/n_updates liked by y/n!!!!

y/n_moments omg she liked

Lewishamilton

Liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, and 1,413,785 others

LewisHamilton Thanks for having me!

View all 432,581 comments

f1_drivers was such a great interview

y/n_stan Lewis providing these crumbs like crazy, does he want to kill me?

liked by landonorris

Lewis.stan Lando!!!

Lewis_updates

Liked by y/n_updates, f1.gfs_updates, and 8,105 others

Lewis_updates best bit from the Graham interview

View all 581 comments

Y/n_stan not him about to drop a major bomb shell but stopping himself, respectful king

f1.gfs_updates this interview had me on the edge of my seat waiting for him to reveal all

Y/n_y/l/n

Liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, and 2,107,587 others

y/n_y/l/n Hello Bahrain ☀️

View all 598,675comments

lewishamilton see you around the paddock 😊

danielricciardo 👀

y/nandlew_4life ahh!!! It's happening!!! EVERYBODY STAY CALM!!!

f1.gfs_updates did he ask her on a date!?

#lh44 #lh44 x reader #f1 lewis #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 au

[jimmy-j-james]

Request..mayhaps where reader gives Gaz a kiss every time for Goodluck on the forehead, so kinda one day before reader gets sent on a mission Gaz is all like “you forgot something!!” And reader just perks up and gives him a smooch before running away to catch up, it takes Gaz a few seconds to realize that reader still hasn’t noticed his missing helmet and so catches up to give it to him

Something along the lines of that, feel free to change to your taste in any way because I’m sleepy as hell as I write this out, love your writtinnggg 🫶🫶🫶

KISS FOR LUCK

- M!reader x Gaz

- Proofread:

- Genre: Fluff

- Synopsis: M!reader and Gaz have a tradition of sharing good luck kisses before missions. Of course, when luck is all you’re focused on, you tend to forget the bigger things.. like your helmet.

════════════════

“(L/n), aren’t you forgettin’ somethin’..?” Gaz calls out, a grin splitting his face as he watches the love of his life eagerly rush back. His mouth opens to remind the man of his belonging, though it’s quickly slammed shut as the other grasps Kyle’s face and places a chaste kiss atop his forehead.

“I’ll miss you, Kyle~” He coos, placing another longing kiss to his lips before rushing off to join his squad.

Kyle stands there baffled, left in a loving daze before snapping awake. It’s only then that he’s reminded of the helmet in hand, the same shitty stickers decorating the piece, alongside a small sharpied in ‘Gaz + (C/n)’.

His smile softens, only to have a laugh escape past his lips as he chases after the other. “You forgot your helmet!” He cries out with a giggle.

(Y/n) quickly turns to face the Brit, patting atop his head before flushing. “Oh-“ He chuckles, jogging back towards Kyle. “Thank you, darling~”

Kyle smiles, a look of fondness in his eyes as he buckles the helmet atop his lover’s head. “Don’t go ruining that pretty head of yours today.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it Kyle,” he hums, placing a couple more quick kisses against the Brit’s face “besides, wouldn’t want to miss out on your cuddles.”

“Get back to your group, sergeant.” Gaz muses, pushing away his boyfriend’s face. “You’ll get yer cuddles when you get home.”

“Yessir!” He teasingly salutes, turning back to the aircraft. As he begins heading towards the others, his laughs grow faint.

“Get back to me in one piece!”

“Anything for you, Love!”

════════════════

© Copyright @jimmy-j-james, 2023

All rights reserved

do not copy/paste, claim as your own, post on different sites, or translate without prior consent from me

#cod x male reader #gaz x male reader #kyle garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #gaz mw2

[n0tangeliccc]

Omg Jimmy smut

Bro I’m so dumb I just realized his name is James

How did I not know that 😭😭🥹😂😂

Opening night

Jimmy x Fem!Reader

(All characters are 18+)

Warning: smut, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (kinda), and humiliation kinks (I’m bad at tagging help)

A/N: Wrote this based on some hcs I wrote here! (Also this is so late omg Im so sorry😭)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.

After weeks of waiting it was finally opening night for Jimmy’s show. This was probably his biggest show to date and he was extremely excited. You had snuck your way backstage to see your lovely boyfriend before his show started to congratulate him, he’d worked so hard for this and you were so proud.

You knocked on the door of his dressing room before walking in, “Hey there Mr. Jokester” you smiled. He quickly turned to you as you walked over “Y/N! W-w-what’s up p-pretty girl” he grinned and pulled you close to him. “Oh nothing just here to see the best comedian ever” you gave his forehead a quick kiss “How are you feeling baby? There’s a big crowd out there” He laughed “Oh I k-k-know, more than 600 p-p-people out t-there doll” you gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze “Honestly I f-f-feel like I need a l-l-little ego b-b-booster” he looked up at you with a smirk “You’re on in like 10 minutes Jimmy! Can’t you wait until after the show? Maybe a little celebration” he chuckled as he saw your face flush “C-c-come on Y/N this is like our l-l-little tradition we do t-t-this every s-show” “Yeah but…you know how loud I can be and I don’t want all those people to hear” you whispered.Anyone who had gone to any of Jimmy’s shows at South Park knew of this “tradition”, it was no secret how loud you got during sex and as hard as you tried you just couldn’t help it! “C-come on baby! T-t-that’s the f-f-fun part!”

You two had gotten caught a handful of times and as embarrassing as it was you two kept doing it. The thrill of it just turned both of you on even more, so of course you gave in to it.

That’s how you ended up on top of Jimmy with him holding onto your hips, guiding you as you rode him. One of your hands on your mouth trying to contain your moans (and failing miserably) as the other held onto his shoulder for balance. “Wow s-s-so loud, a-almost l-l-like you want to be c-c-caught” Jimmy chuckled as he watched you struggling to hold back your moans “M-maybe you should j-j-just let go d-doll” he smirked before dragging one of his hands to your bud of nerves. “Fuck!” You threw your head back in pleasure as his thumb circled your clit “T-t-there good j-j-job pretty g-girl” He had you exactly how he loved, a loud moaning mess on top of him, his ego had definitely been boosted. A knock on the door made you stop and cover your mouth once again “4 minutes Mr. Valmer” called out one of the workers. You shoot him a panicked look but Jimmy just laughed “A-a-alright I’m a-almost done” He yelled back, “We b-b-better wrap t-t-this up baby” he whispered to you before he bucked his hips up roughly into you. You groaned loudly as you moved your hips to match his movements “I’m close” “M-me too d-doll” he grunted as you both speed up your movements desperate for your release. Your nails dug into Jimmy’s shoulders as with one last moan you came, your walls tightening around his cock. “F-f-fuck Y/N” his thrust became sloppy as he held you down on him before he also came inside you.

Another set of knocks hit the door as you changed back into your clothes and helped Jimmy fix himself up “Your on in 1 minute Mr. Valmer” You smiled and placed a kiss on Jimmy’s lips “Good luck hun” “Oh I d-d-don’t need any after t-t-that” he grinned as he walked out.

You left to sit with the crowd and cheered with them as he walked into the stage. “Wow, w-w-what a terrific audience"

“N-now this f-f-for this first j-j-joke you might have h-heard me and my g-girlfriend backstage…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.

@emyasorensen hope you like it bby🧡

#south park x reader #south park fanfiction #south park x y/n #south park x you #south park smut #jimmy valmer x reader #jimmy valmer x you #jimmy valmer x y/n

[her-power]

The End of All Things (Part Two: e.m. x fem reader)

TRIGGER & C/W: 18++++ MDNI, Mama is serious!

Part One

Sweet! Semi-dom! Eddie, hurt/comfort, mostly fluff, death, talk of death, grief, descriptions of a deceased person, swearing, making out, smut, unprotected p in v (be smart, not dumb) oral/fingering outside (f receiving), shower sex, gentle choking, humor, more death talk, alcohol use, heavy drug use. This content has heavy subject material about death, dying and loss, please do not read if you are not comfortable with this. ESPECIALLY if you have recently experienced a loss and you are newly grieving. If you also feel something like this is gonna be therapeutic, do what you think feels right for you. I tried to be as accurate as possible, I put in my own experiences with funeral homes, etc

Summary: This follows the reader as they try to navigate this new love with their best friend Eddie Munson, while also navigating loss and what comes after. This takes place 5 years after S4. Reader & Eddie are in their mid twenties. The year is 1991. The song in this chapter is based off A Day to Remember song, so they get all the credit for it. I've decided to make this into 5 parts. I realized as I was writing this part there's been a theme each chapter that was completely unintentional and I'm really excited on how this is gonna go now. Enjoy!

Word Count: 13.3k

A/N: This is based off of a life changing event that happened to me when I was seventeen. This is for everyone who has suffered a loss of a loved one, a pet, a friend, a parent, a sibling. I see you and I love you. Thank you SO much for reading Part One. I honestly didn't think it was gonna get a lot of feedback like it has been, so I appreciate all of you beautiful people.

The late afternoon sun was bright and hot. The kids in the neighborhood were doing backflips in their pools, laughing and splashing each other as they welcome Summer with open arms. You sat in the living room with your father, and your uncle. All of you sat around the coffee table, and Eddie paces behind you, biting his thumbnail. Robin had come by the house earlier in the day, awkwardly and sweetly offering her condolences and almost having a full-blown happy tear crying fit when she realized you and Eddie were together.  

It had been two days since your mother’s death, and the funeral home needed answers on what to do with your mother’s body. 

“She wanted a viewing and then to be cremated after. Separate some of the ashes between us and bury her with your parents in Boston, at least, that’s what she wrote here.” Your father glances up from your mother’s document of her wishes that you didn’t even know she wrote and looks over at your Uncle Jimmy who only nodded. Jimmy hadn’t been back in Boston since they buried your grandparents, that was when you were still living there. 

Your knee bobs anxiously and sweat pools on your palms. Your rub your palms on your dark floral print spaghetti strap dress and awkwardly adjust your shoelaces on your docs. It was almost a hundred degrees outside; the air conditioner was doing next to nothing to keep the inside of your house cool. 

The thought of your mother laying on a cold table, naked, stiff, getting wiped down by a stranger, getting her make up done, and dressed into horrible clothing suddenly made your skin crawl. 

“I want to do it.” You say out loud, and you feel their eyes on you.

“Do what?” Your father asks you. He was unshaven, dark circles were prominent under his eyes. 

“I want to choose her outfit, dress her, clean her. Do her make up—"

“Absolutely not.” Your father interrupts you. 

“Why?” Your eyes narrow at him, and you feel Eddie stiffen behind you.  “She was my mother.” 

“Y/N, there’s professional people for a reason for that. I’m not going to subject you to seeing your mother’s body in that condition. You need to remember her alive, not like that.” 

“I don’t want some fucking stranger touching her. I’m doing it. They allow family to do it.” You raise your voice, and your father pinches the bridge of his nose. 

Eddie says your name, putting his hand on your shoulder. You flinch away from him, glancing up into his eyes. 

“You agree with him, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. Sweetheart, you’re going to be seeing her body. Before the wake, the funeral. You shouldn’t see her like that.” He tells you sweetly and you roll your eyes, standing up from the couch. 

“If you don’t tell them, I will.” You look at your father. “She was my mother. And I’ll be damned if someone makes her look like a dime store whore. Call them and tell them I’m doing it.” 

Your father looks at you with sad eyes and nods once. Jimmy doesn’t say a word, tears fill his eyes, and he fixes his eyes on your mother's picture. Eddie stares at you, his hands gripping the back of couch and he shakes his head at you. 

“What?” You snap. “You got something to say, say it.” You instantly felt guilty for snapping, but you were exhausted. Every night since her death you were having nightmares, and Eddie was there for you through it all. Only stopping home once to check on Wayne and work a few hours at the record store. 

He stares at you, biting his bottom lip, eyes slightly narrowing, he sucks in air through his teeth. “I think you need to just stop and think for a minute.” 

You scoff, turning on your heel and storming out the back porch. You find your dad’s pack of Marlboro cigarettes. You weren’t a smoker, maybe the occasional social smoker when having a little too much to drink, but at this moment, you needed a little buzz, and if nicotine was the way to go, you didn’t hold back. The smoke billows in your lungs, and you lean back against the deck railing. Eddie comes out soon after, clad in his ripped black jeans, an Iron Maiden t-shirt and dirty converse. 

“This is crazy.” He tells you, his eyes wide with concern but no hint of judgement. 

You push yourself off the railing and walk down the steps to the backyard, you weren’t in the mood to talk anymore. 

“Stop. Just stop for a minute.” He steps in front of you, and you glare up at him. 

He sees the cigarette in your hand, his eyebrows furrow, you could tell his mind was spinning. “Give me this!” He takes the butt of your hand, inhaling on it once and flicks it behind him. 

“Spit it out, Eddie!” You were losing your patience. 

“I want you to stop and think about this, please.” He places his hands on your upper arms, you tense under his touch and gaze. “This is a body. A dead body. Your mother’s body. You are going to be alone with her. The morticians completely disconnect when they dress up a body for a viewing; you’re her daughter. You can’t disconnect.” 

You feel your anger creeping up your throat, the grief pulling at your heart, the hot tears in the corner of your eyes. “She’s mymother. Mine. You of all people should know why I’m doing this, but per usual, you’re fucking clueless!” 

He lets his arms fall. “What are you talking about?” 

“You have been hearing me scream myself awake for two nights. The nightmares are getting so bad, I feel like I’m walking into one even when I’m awake. I need to see her.” You say, gritting your teeth, and you fist the hem of his t-shirt. “This is the only way. Only way I know this isn’t some fucking dream I can wake up from. I’m doing this because I need to see that she’s really dead.” 

He stares you, the brightness from the sun made his eyes look almost gold, you put your hand over your stomach, clenching your hand into the fabric of your dress and quickly wipe a tear away. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, you’re gonna see her at the wake.” He says gently. 

“Eddie, just stop trying to be Mr. Logical and be my best friend for ten fucking seconds. How many times have I’ve tried to talk you out of something stupid? Let’s see, there’s the time you jumped the school fence to rewire the speakers so everytime the principal would get on the intercom PORN would start playing through the speakers. Or the time you stole your neighbor's car so we could catch the last showing of A Nightmare on Elm Street 4 at the drive in, in Indianapolis because the stupid van was broken or the time—"

“You’re comparing the stupid shit I did to bathing your mother's body?!” His voice rises almost comedically. “Jesus H. Christ! What I do is STUPID. What you’re wanting to do is fucking INSANE.” 

“Then I’m insane!” You yell, letting out a laugh, your hands slap against your thighs, and you shrug, a slight pain hits your chest. “Eddie, I need you to support me with this, even if you don’t like it, or if it’s weird or gross.” 

His eyes dart to yours, wide and glassy. “You think I’m freaking out because I think it’s gross? I’m freaking out because it fucking breaks me everytime I hear you cry or scream or say her name and I’m left fucking speechless because I don’t know how to help you. I can see the pain in your eyes and hear it when you speak, and it’s only been two days. You have a lifetime of this, and I don’t want this to be the thing that makes you slip away from me.” 

Your stomach does a back flip, and you feel even more guilty than you did before. You step closer to him, reaching your hand up, curling your hand through his hair. 

“I’m not gonna slip away.” 

“You don’t know that.” He says, tiredly. His right hand grips your waist and gently pulls you towards him. “You’re scaring me.” 

“When have I ever let you down?” You say, giving him a small smile and he tilts his head at you, raising his eyebrows 

You laugh, squeezing your eyes shut. “Don’t say the Iron Maiden show. I got the stomach bug, that wasn’t my fault.” 

He laughs, smoothing down your hair. “Yeah, you were pretty gross that night.” 

“You’re the only who decided to stay.” You poke him in the chest. “Sorry you were fed false information that girls don’t shit.” 

He laughs, holding you closer to him, your back slightly arches as you look up at him. “Do you trust me?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“Then let me be with her. Let me do this for her.” You cup his cheek, poking his dimple. “I promise you that I will be okay.” 

He lets out a low growl and you smirk. “I hate how fucking convincing you always are.” His hands squeeze your waist. “It’s annoying.” 

“But, ya love me!” You give him a goofy grin and he scrunches up his nose. 

“Yeaaaah…kind of regretting opening my mouth now.” He laughs when you slap his chest. “I’m kidding, you loser!” 

You laugh, going up on your toes to kiss dimple. You gently pat his shoulder and nod towards the house. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” You take his hand and walk quietly back into your home.

You had ended up compromising with your father about the whole ordeal. He wanted the funeral home to embalm your mother first and place her undergarments on themselves. You reluctantly agreed and had said for you to be at the funeral home the day before to get her ready for the viewing. Which was on Tuesday, in three days. That gave you plenty of time to decide what outfit to choose for her. You promised yourself you would wait for tomorrow; tonight, Eddie was performing at the Hideout with Corroded Coffin. It had been a long time since the band had performed there. The shitty part of growing up was responsibilities, and you all had a lot of them. Eddie was the assistant manager at the record store. Saturdays were the biggest money-making day for them, but the store owner/manager Sully had promised he could take the day to practice and to perform because it would be another long while before the band got back together. Also, Sully had a soft spot for you, and when he had heard about what happened to your mother, he had sent two bouquets of beautiful flowers to your house, along with a check for $500, which you planned on giving back to him. You worked at the Barnes and Noble in the city, and since you had been there for five years, the owners were nice enough to give you two weeks off.  Unpaid, but you were good with saving.

Gareth was the first one to greet you as soon as you walked into the door of the Hideout, he hugged you so tightly you thought your bones would break. You spot Eddie coming out the back door, he had changed into a torn up black v neck, exposing more of his chest tattoos. He was carrying an amp as you make your way towards the back, he spots you, smiles goofily at you and he struggles a little bit with the weight of it. You giggle, grabbing the other side of the amp and helping him place it gently on the ground. 

“Looks like you’re losing your strength there, buddy.” You say with a wink. “Haven’t seen you struggle with an amp since 10th grade.” 

He rolls his eyes and laughs. “You just caught me off guard, is all.” His eyes dilate, a familiar lust is in his gaze, and you blush. You were in the same outfit as earlier, just with added red lipstick. 

“You knew I was coming early.” You say, tucking your hair behind your ear and he smiles, pulling you towards him by your hips. 

“I know, I just stop breathing whenever you walk into a room.” His lips gently graze yours and you lean back slightly, looking up at him with a grin. 

“You are so lame, you know that?” You laugh.

He scrunches his nose, and he laughs, pulling back from you. “Yeah, you know me too well. I suck at trying to be romantic. Give me a good D&D story line, and I’ll write the next best campaign, but romance…yuck.” 

“Just watch 9 ½ weeks, you’ll learn a thing or two.” You wink at him. 

His face falls and he laughs. “I didn’t know you saw that movie, you dirty, dirty pervert.” 

You giggle, biting your lip, stepping away from the stage to grab a drink. “Have you seen Kim Basinger in that film? I’d let that woman take full advantage of my body and be strapped to the bed for the rest of my life.” 

The familiar lust appears in his eyes again and he lets out a low growl. “You can’t say stuff like that to me before I go on stage.” His neck muscles clench as he swallows hard. 

“Why not?” You blow him a kiss, stick out your tongue and throw up the devil horns. As you turn around, you feel the cool metal of his rings wrap around your wrist and he spins you around, crashing his lips to yours. He hungrily slips his tongue into your mouth; you moan quietly, and he holds your face in his hands.

“Five minutes, all I need is you and five minutes in the bathroom.” He says breathlessly. 

You shake your head, smirking. “Sorry, Casanova. You’re gonna have to wait. Our friends are here.” You both glance at the door, seeing Steve and Robin walk through the doors; Eddie groans, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I literally hate you.” He whispers to you, and you laugh. His hands grip at the fabric of your dress, squeezing your hip, causing your dress to rise up your thigh slightly.

“Whoaaaa, getting a little handsy there, eh Munson?” Steve says with a smirk and Eddie rolls his eyes. Steve hugs you tightly, whispering a sweet condolence in your ear, causing a dull ache in your tummy. “Heard you two finally admitted your feelings for each other. Heard it was all over the house too.” 

Both you and Eddie’s eyes snap to Robin who is just smiling. “Robin! No one needs to know that.” 

“I’m sorry it just slipped out! I was so happy that you were finally together, and I couldn’t control it. We literally had a bet how long it was gonna take and I won.” 

“You guys are great friends.” Eddie says with an eye roll and a chuckle, kissing the side of your head, whispering. “You’re mine after the show.” 

A blush creeps on your cheeks and you bring your lips to his ear. “Kim Basinger.”  

He eyes you hungrily, biting his bottom lip. “Again, I hate you.” 

He walks away from you with a wink, and you giggle. You sit down at the stools with Steve and Robin, you order yourself a beer. There was surprisingly a lot of patrons in the bar tonight you notice as you look around. It was a whole eclectic group of individuals. Metalheads, town drunks who kept to themselves, and high schoolers with fake IDs. You watch as Eddie places Sweetheart over his shoulder and adjust the microphone. He throws Sweetheart over his shoulder, and smiles when Steve whoops. 

“Atmosphere hasn’t changed. It’s been a while since we’ve performed here. Thank you for being here, it is much appreciated.” His voice echoes through the microphone and you feel your stomach do a back flip. “We’re Corroded Coffin, and this is an original song.” 

He flips Sweetheart to his chest, looks at you over his eyelashes and winks at you. He glances back at Gareth who nods and hits the snare and then the double bass pedal, Eddie strums down, the buzz of the electric vibrating, and the bass rumbles through the building. They play like that for a few breaks, and Eddie starts to sing. You feel the music through your veins, remember when they wrote this song in your room during a horrendous snowstorm and your mother had made them all hot chocolate. 

You mouth along the words with Eddie: Violent delights, violent ends, end of heartache in this prison, not coming back, twisting the blade, blade of the dying, a dying wish, a dying wish, watching you fall, fall from grace, who’s gonna carry your casket? Who’s gonna carry your casket? 

Gareth wails on the drums, the double bass thrumming through your ears as Eddie goes into an electric guitar breakdown, head banging and dancing around the stage. You felt more relaxed, every horrible moment and feelings from the last few days disappearing as the music wraps you up like a blanket.  

Robin was cheering and whooping, moving her whole body to beat. Steve was trying his best to look like he wasn’t enjoying it, but his foot tapped along to the beat, and he drummed his hands along his thighs. You were vibing with the beat, your whole body moving, your hair whipping around as Eddie strummed his last cord, whipped around, met your eyes and that lust appeared again, only it was coming from you. He smirks at you and finishes the song, repeating the chorus, screaming the last line of words into the microphone and the song ends with a final drum solo. 

Eddie couldn’t believe the reaction they got from some of the patrons. Most of you ended up getting free drinks, Steve had to peel Robin away from a much older woman who was ready to eat her up if she asked, and seconds later you were holding her hair back in the bathroom as she vomited and cried about the beautiful woman who looked like Phoebe Cates from Fast Times. You had to tie your own hair back, because she was making you laugh so hard your hair kept falling in the toilet, the stalls were so tiny. You felt bad for laughing, but you had a good buzz on, and Robin was one of the funniest people you knew. Eddie made Steve pull his car around back to make it easier to get Robin out safely. She could barely walk; Eddie had stood outside the door, watching the struggle as you tried to pull Robin out of the bathroom by dragging her under the arms. He could’ve helped sooner, but watching you struggle gave him so much joy his stomach hurt from laughing. 

You groan, pulling her towards you, but you end up slipping on a wet spot and you both tumble to the ground. Robin’s face was awkwardly smushed against your chest and you glare up at Eddie from the floor, who was still laughing. 

“Help me, asshole!” You yell at him, trying your best not to laugh. 

“No, this is heaven for me.” Robin mutters, nuzzling her head in your chest. You pat her head and Eddie wipes the tears from his eyes. 

“Okay, okay, come on, you big flirt.” Eddie says to Robin, squatting down and lifting her off you, throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. You lift yourself up off the floor and wipe the dirt and grime off your dress. Your hair was already falling out of the hair tie, and you follow them out the back door where Steve was waiting with the car. You heard Robin gag; Eddie looks at you with panic in his eyes and Steve helps him set her down. You quickly look for something she could vomit in and find a dirty trash bin, kicking the lid off it as you hold back Robin’s hair once again. 

“Oh, my little weirdo.” Steve says, gently rubbing her back as she vomited out pure liquid. Once she was done, and everything looked like it was out of her system, you and Eddie help her in the passenger seat of the car.

“I love you guys.” Robin says with a grin, patting Eddie’s face. “If you hurt her, I will murder you. Wait, did you smoke? Gross!” 

“I love you too, Rob.” Eddie says, kissing the top of her head. “Get her home safe.” He says to Steve and Steve laughs. 

“Wish me luck, I thought I was done being a babysitter.” He scoffs and laughs. 

“Not with your best friend, buddddy!” Robin says, blowing drunk kisses at the two of you as Steve drives away. You wave and shake your head, your stomach hurting from laughing the rest of the night.

“Ten bucks she pukes in his car.” You say, nudging him. 

“Twenty she pukes on his lap.” He holds out his hand to shake yours and you take it, agreeing to the bet.

“Deal.” You say with a chuckle. 

You pull your hair out of the hair tie and let it fall, you scratch at your scalp to soothe the tightness from it. Eddie puts his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. 

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks, pressing his lips to your hair. 

You sigh, leaning into him. “You okay to drive?” 

He nods and laughs, guiding you towards the van that was hidden in the darkness of the back parking lot. “Made myself sober up when I saw how drunk Robin got. You good?”

“Yeah, just a buzz.” A loud, long yawn escapes you and you laugh. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

“Where do you wanna go, sleepyhead?” He chuckles, rustling your hair. 

He unlocks the passenger side door for you, and you stare up at him, leaning against the door panel. You reach up, tucking a strand of curly hair behind his ear, run your thumb along his jaw as you cup his cheek. There was so much you wanted to tell him; how you didn’t believe you’d still be standing if he hadn’t been your best friend during this time; how you were so forever grateful for him and his big, beautiful heart. He smiles sweetly at you. 

“Nowhere yet.” You say softly, pulling his face towards yours. 

Your lips press against his, opening your mouth into a slow, passionate kiss. He places his palm on your lower back, pulling you against him. He tasted like beer, cigarettes, and a hint of mouthwash. He cups the side of your face, his fingers curling into your hair. A warmth settles in your tummy and between your legs, a loving ache that you’ve started to grow used to these last few days. You breathe heavily as you pull yourself away from his mouth, he stumbles into you a little, letting out a throaty chuckle, resting his forehead on your shoulder. 

You kiss his neck, catching him by surprise as you graze your teeth near the tender spot under his ear, causing him to shudder and groan softly; you bring your mouth to his ear. “I thought I was yours after the show?”

A low growl rumbles in his throat and you feel his hold tighten around your waist as he lifts you up onto the passenger seat, you squeal with delight. You try to tuck your legs under the glove box, but he pulls them back towards him, smiling under the moonlight. Your dress had risen on your thighs a little, and you shudder as his hands move up your legs, and onto your inner thighs, tugging at seam of your underwear while he stood outside the door.

You realize just then what he planned on doing, your eyes widen. “No, Eddie, someone will see.” 

“No, they won’t, trust me.” He grins at you, leaning up his chin to kiss your lips. His tongue opens your mouth, and you gasp when you feel him palm you over the fabric of your underwear. He still kisses you, moving your underwear to the side, his fingers lightly dancing against your clit. 

Your head falls back automatically, lightly knocking against the gear shift and you quietly moan. He gazes up at you, giving you that smirk, resting his chin against the hills of your breasts. 

“Louder.” He says, pulling the fabric of the top your dress down with his teeth, exposing one your breasts. You gasp again once you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple. He kisses and sucks, pulling away with a groan. “Louder.” 

He shoves two fingers deep inside you and you moan, loud. He brings his mouth back to your breast and gently bites the skin around your nipple, moaning with you as he pulls away, slinking his way down your tummy, until he’s kneeling on the metal step. He pulls his fingers out of you, smiling and placing your left leg over his shoulder. He pushes your dress up, kneading and tugging at your meaty thighs, his hot breath hits your cunt.

“Get loud for me, baby.” He whispers sexily and you feel your pussy clench at his words. 

A sound escapes you when you feel his tongue lick a long stripe from your hole to your clit, and he gently sucks. You pull his hair and groan, holding onto the head rest as another loud moan escapes you. He moans, burying his face into you, gripping your thighs hard, flicking his tongue out, you feel your toes curl in your boots. He lets out a groan and runs his finger down your clit and places two back inside you. You clench around his fingers, your back arches, and you get loud. You completely forget you were only a few feet away from the back exit of the Hideout, and you smile, realizing you didn’t care anymore. He looks up at you and you meet his eyes, he curls his fingers inside you and warmth crept up your belly. You let out a breath, and make yourself sit up more, wiggling your hips to get him to pull away from your clit. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow and you grab fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him up to your mouth until he’s climbing into the van, kissing you deeply. You crawl backwards in the driver side, pull him to where you were sitting and quickly unbutton his pants, pulling his hardened cock out of his zipper. 

He opens his mouth to say something but you’re already on top of him, kissing him again and lowering yourself onto his cock and he groans in your mouth. He holds onto your hips as you slam your ass up and down, the two of you getting louder and louder with every movement, every roll of your hips. 

“I’m yours now?” You whisper breathlessly to him, holding his face to look into his eyes, your mouth falls open in a moan.

“Yeah…unghh…yeah, fuck.” His eyes roll back in his head, a throaty groan escaping him, and you smile, moving your hips faster. 

“Good.” 

You stood in your bedroom that Monday, looking back and forth between two outfits you had picked out for your mother. The rain pitter-pattered on the roof, and you pull the hood of the sweatshirt you stole from Eddie over your head. The first outfit was a lavender button up maxi dress with sleeves, her favorite pair of Mary Jane shoes, a gold necklace with an emerald pendant. The second outfit was a dress she had worn on her twenty-five-year wedding anniversary, it was a soft blue, fitted at the waist and had floral print sewn on the chiffon skirt. Your father and uncle Jimmy were out looking for suits to wear. You didn’t sleep last night. You toss and turned, the house so eerily silent. You barely dreamt because you barely slept, and you were a little grateful for that. 

Eddie wanted to come with you today, but you knew this was something you had to do alone. He had to work at the store today and knew he would get clumsy when he was distracted so you can only imagine that the store was in shambles, and he was probably letting out high pitched yells and screaming “Fuck!” every sentence. Which made you laugh thinking about, the never-ending chaos of that man was something he should be proud of. 

Any shade of your purple was your mother’s favorite color, and you were happy with your decision when you drove silently to the funeral home and glance at her lavender dress hanging on the hook in the backseat. You decided on her sterling silver ruby pendant because you wanted the emerald one for yourself, selfishly. You tuck the pendant under your shirt and flick the radio on. James Taylor’s voice came through the speakers singing one of your favorites, and you lean back in your seat, reminiscing to yourself about the car rides like this with your mother. The rain let up a little, leaving little sprinkles of raindrops on your windshield. You had the copy of the death certificate you needed to give the funeral home in the back pocket of your jeans, you didn’t look at it yet; you weren’t sure if you were going to. 

Foster & Sons Funeral Home peaks out on the corner of a little side street and you pull down the long driveway into the spacious parking lot. You suddenly felt very small, and your heart began pounding in your chest. 

Eddie was right, this was insane. 

You rest your head against the steering wheel, inhaling through your nose and out your mouth slowly. Your hands tremble and you look up, seeing one of the directors standing by the front door. The man looked like Lurch from the Addams Family and you swallow back a cackle of a laugh because why would anything be normal about this? 

“Okay.” You tell yourself, breathing in deeply. “Okay. This is fine. This is fucking fine. She’s not even in there. It’s just a body. It’s just a body.” 

You awkwardly wave to Lurch who doesn’t even move, take out your makeup bag and your mother’s dress out of the backseat. Walking up the stone steps you can already smell the overwhelming aromas of the flowers through the door, you walk past him to the lobby, looking to your right, seeing a whole line of wreaths, standing sprays and bouquet after bouquet through the double doors to the viewing room. You pause, not bringing yourself to go in there yet and look up at Lurch who waited patiently for you. 

“Where do I go?” You ask him. “Oh.” You pull out the death certificate from your back pocket, and your hands shake as you hand it to him.

He takes it from you, giving you a soft smile. “Come with me.” Okay, Vincent Price, you think to yourself and smirk. You decided his new name was Vincent Lurch Price. What the fuck is wrong with my brain? Why are you making up names during this time? Why is he so tall? Is he wearing lifts? What the fuck am I doing here? I’ve lost it. I’m crazy. I’m fucking crazy. 

You follow him down a long stretch of hallway and were honestly surprised how big the place was. The floor was a checkboard marble, and your converse scuffed as you hurried alongside Lurch. There’s a tiny elevator he takes you to, and you step in, your stomach drops when he hits the button, and you are both lowered to the basement. 

It smelled like a haunted house. 

He leads you down a small corridor, towards a few tiny offices and stops outside a blurred glass door that says Authorized Personnel Only. He stands by the door and glances down at you. 

“She’s through there.” 

“In there?” You point to the door. “I just go in?”

He nods. 

“She is prepared for you; her modesty is protected. She has been embalmed so don’t be alarmed if the skin feels different. I will be down the hall if you need me.” He walks away from you, and you watch as his tall form disappears down the corridor. You glance back at the door and your hand hovers over the doorknob. Sighing, you push open the door. 

The first thing you notice was how bright it was in there, you had to squint your eyes; it was so clean, and cold. It just looked like an empty basement to you, with drains, and metal tables. There was a separate door that was ajar, labeled Mortician. You slowly walk towards that door, your heart pounding in your chest. Opening the door with your foot you spot the table, and there she was, covered with a clean white sheet. You stand there for a few moments, staring at the sheet. 

There’s a wooden table leaning against the wall to the right of her, you finally find your footing and rest the dress and the make-up bag carefully on the table. You rub the sweat off your palms on your jeans and let out a shaky breath. 

You put your hands on either side of the corner of the sheet and pull it down, you squeeze your eyes shut. You open your eyes, and you look down. Your breathing picks up as you stare at her, you walk backwards, your lower back hits the table and you yelp quietly. The sheet only fell a little past her shoulders, they had fastened a type of bra around her chest. Her skin looked almost gray, and you had to swallow back the bile that stuck in your throat. There was a small incision near her left collarbone, and you caught a glimpse of the autopsy stitch peeking out from the top of the sheet. Her hair was already styled neatly in the way she always wore it; you step closer. Tears fall from your eyes as you look at her face. This was your mother, but it wasn’t. You reach your hand out, carefully running your fingers down her cheekbone and you snap your hand back. It felt like a statue, it was hard, cold. You close your eyes, breathing in through your nose and then out. 

Moving closer, you reach out your hand, and smooth out her hair. Tears fall from your eyes on to the table next to where she lay. You imagined she was only sleeping, her beautiful face relaxed, a soft smile on her face. You take out your favorite picture of her and place it next to her head.  The next hour felt like a blur as you quietly put the make up on her face. You had asked Lurch to assist you in dressing her, after your attempt to do it yourself you almost vomited at your feet because you didn’t realize how stiff her entire body would be. Once she was dressed, Lurch gave you a minute with her. 

She looked more like herself, but you realize she didn’t look like she was sleeping. She looked dead. You silently chuckle to yourself, knowing that would be something she would say, and you felt slightly comforted by that. You wipe your tears away with your shirt sleeve, and lean down, leaving a soft kiss on her forehead. You look at her one last time, your legs feeling weighed down by cement blocks. 

You didn’t want to leave her alone. 

You feel a heavy hand on your shoulder, and you become startled, Lurch was giving you a sympathetic smile. “You will see her again tomorrow. She looks lovely.” 

You glance up at him, your eyes filling with tears, and you nod. He leads you out of the room and you silently cry as you both make your way up to the lobby. Before you leave, he hands you the death certificate, informing you that they already had a copy, and you take it with shaky hands. 

The walk to your car felt long, the sun was out, and the temperate had risen. You take off Eddie’s hoodie and tie it around your waist, your black tank top was sticking to you in all the wrong places. You plop in your car, put the keys in the ignition and crank the windows down. You throw the make-up bag in the backseat and feel the crinkle of the death certificate in your back pocket. Lifting yourself, you pull it from your pocket and study it with your hands. It was folded in threes, and you realize you’re holding reasons why your mother was dead. 

You cave.

You open the paper, and your eyes immediately notice the typewriter print.

Time of death: 6:00pm

Cause of death: Natural

Findings: Pulmonary embolism, myocardial infarction, renal failure, congestive heart failure (ongoing)

Congestive heart failure? Since when?

A sound so deep and guttural escapes your lungs and you let out a scream. The paper falls to the floor and you slam your hand on the steering wheel, once, twice, three times. 

You barely say a word to your father when you walked in. You had driven around for hours until it was almost dark. You muttered you were going for a walk when he asked what you were doing, and that Eddie had called a bunch of times looking for you. You grabbed some cash from your drawer and shove it in your back pocket. You head towards the front door and your father stops you.

“Please, honey. Tell me where you’re going.” He looks desperate and you felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world. He was grieving her too.

“I’m just going for a walk.” You sigh. “I’m going to a bar. I’m not gonna be late.” 

“What happened at the funeral home?” 

“Nothing happened.” You tell him, shaking your head. “Nothing happened. It was just a body.”

Stop trying to be brave, dumbass.

He stares at you. “Let Eddie go with you.”

“No.” You snap and then groan. “No, I’ll be okay. I just need to be alone.” 

“Y/N…tomorrow is the funeral…please…please don’t be stupid.” His eyes look sad, and your heart breaks.

“I’m not!” You groan. “Daddy, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell. I’m not gonna be stupid, I promise.” 

You open the door and step out, feeling his eyes on you as you walk down your driveway towards the end of your street. You hated lying to him, you were gonna be stupid, but you felt like you deserved to be stupid.

The walk to the bar only took twenty minutes, it was newer, recently opened within the last year. A lot more of the townies went there, some newly 21-year-olds, a far cry from what you were used to from the Hideout. It was a nice hole in the wall, two pool tables in back, a bar that was shaped like a half rectangle, and some high-top tables. You find a stool and sit on it, throwing a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and ask the bartender for a shot of bourbon and a beer. You wipe the dried tears off your face and knock back the bourbon. You realize you hadn’t eaten, but that never stopped you before. 

Eddie was panicking when he hadn’t heard from you after coming back from the funeral home. He was pretty sure your father wanted to kill him after the third phone call, and he told him you were still not home. The phone rang loud in the trailer when Eddie walked up the steps from returning home from the record store, he tripped over the rug as he ran to pick up the receiver, getting his foot tangled around the guitar cord in the process. “Fucking christ!” He grumbles, placing the phone to his ear and untangling himself. Your father tells him that you took off on a walk and had said you were going to a bar, but didn’t say which one, and that he had a weird feeling. Eddie tells him he’s going to look for you and hangs up, rushing outside to his van. He knew you wouldn’t be at the Hideout; it would be too obvious. He speeds out of the trailer park, trying to remember which bars were in the area. 

                         The cold water feels good against your face as you pat it dry from the napkin in the bathroom. You could feel the bourbon coursing through your blood stream and sigh. You wash your hands thoroughly, glancing in the mirror as the stall door opens behind you and a young beautiful blonde comes out, vigorously wiping at her nose. She had a glass mirror in her hand and places it on sink next to you, wiping at her face and washing her hands. You could see the residue of the white powder on the mirror, and your heart rate picks up a little. Was it anticipation? Fear? Adrenaline? 

The blonde sees you looking at the mirror and smirks. “All you have to do is ask, pretty.”

“Oh…no, I wasn’t. I didn’t…no thank you.” You smile awkwardly and dry off your hands. The blonde shrugs, applying mascara on her lashes. 

You walk towards the door, gripping the handle but you pause. Memories and thoughts scramble in your brain as you remember the last time you did a drug stronger than weed. You were nineteen and Steve was having a house party. You had drunkenly stumbled into the garage, seeing a few people you didn’t recognize, separating the cocaine between each other. You remember you didn’t even hesitate, you didn’t know why, but as soon as that dollar bill hit your nostril you fell in love. You felt like you could fly, you felt happy and excited all at once, you felt like nothing could harm you. That was the one and only time you fell in love with cocaine. You swore to yourself you would never do it again because of how much you loved it, how sometimes it felt like the missing piece within you whenever you felt down. 

You turn to look at the blonde and she glances at you through the mirror, smiling. She nods to the stall behind her, and you follow her. She locks the door, the two of you sit knee to knee as she takes out the mirror, placing it on the lip of the toilet seat. You thought that was kind of gross, but after she sprinkled the powder on the mirror, she took a hardcover book from her purse and placed it in her lap, which made you feel a little bit better about your decision. She separated two lines and rolled up a dollar bill. 

“Oh, here.” You tell her, handing her a ten-dollar bill. 

“Save your money, you look like you need this.” She smiles at you, her face dips towards the mirror and she snorts. You watch as the powder disappears up the straw and her head falls back and she sighs, smiling. 

She hands you the bill, and you take it, your hands shaking. But again, you didn’t hesitate. You cover one of your nostrils with your finger, and breathe in. The back of your throat immediately goes numb when you feel the postnasal drip down your throat, your nose stung a little. You sigh, wiping the excess from your nose and leaning your back against the stall door. Your lips tingle and your head feels a little heavy, but you smile. 

Oh, how you smile.

Eddie ends up finding you in the bar, dancing to Joan Jett by the jukebox with the blonde girl. The two of you had already been to the bathroom three more times, and you were very high. He could see a difference in you, but he doesn’t say anything, he couldn’t yet. You willingly leave with him, telling the blonde girl, whose name you immediately forgot. As soon as you are outside the bar, he scowls at you.

“I’ve been calling you all fucking day.” 

You glare up at him, tightening the sweatshirt around your waist, stumbling awkwardly. “I’ve been a little busy.”

“Getting high, I can see.” He was mad, and there wasn’t an ounce of you that felt bad about it.

“Oh fuck off, Eddie. I had fun. What’s wrong with having a little fun?”

He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Your mother’s funeral is tomorrow. Was it really that bad at the funeral home?”

“No!” You yell. “Fuck, I did cocaine. So what? At least I made sure it was before doing it, unlike someone who snorted a whole fucking line of heroin.” He abruptly stops walking.

“Don’t throw that back in my face! I don’t regret much but that is one of the things I fucking regret in my life and you know that!” Pain flashes in his eyes and you immediately hate yourself for bringing it up. He stops walking and stops at the door of his van. “Get in, you’re not going back home like this. You’re gonna sleep it off at my place.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You say through your teeth.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are the biggest pain in the ass, get in the van.”

“No.” You cross your arms over your chest. 

He stares at you, shaking his head. Before you could protest, he’s picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You scream loud, and he opens the back of the van, dropping you down on the smelly, shag rug you always hated. 

“Eddie!” You scream. “Son of a bitch!”

He shuts the back of the van and you forgot that it would lock from the outside. He gets in the driver side and peels away from the sidewalk. You awkwardly stumble towards his seat. 

“This is kidnapping!” You say to him, awkwardly crawling into the passenger seat, and plopping down. You bump your head on the glove box, and he holds back a laugh.

“I’m not stopping you from jumping out the next light, sweetheart.” He looks over at you, smiling that stupid smile. 

You cross your arms over your chest and lean back, grinding your teeth. You were coming down from the drugs. “Just take me home.”

“No, your dad has already been through enough, he doesn’t need to see his only daughter coming down from a drug binge before his wife’s funeral.” He takes a sharp turn into the trailer park, and you don’t answer him. Knowing he was right, but you weren’t about to admit that to him. 

He parks in front of the trailer, and you feel his eyes on you, you both sit there in silence. “Why?” He finally asks you quietly.

“Because I wanted to feel something different.” You say, not meeting his eyes. 

“Do you have any more on you?” 

“Nope.” You tell him. “Kind of wish I did; it would make the rest of this fucking night tolerable.” 

You see a flash of hurt in his eyes and he scoffs, pushing the door open with his shoulder and slamming it shut. You watch as he goes inside, the screen door shutting with a slam. You run your hands through your hair and bring your knees up to your chest. This is the second time tonight you’ve hurt his feelings, and you knew part of it was the drugs. For almost a week he has been with you, taking care of you, making you laugh, joking with you, making love to you and you return the favor by being an asshole. 

You were so angry. Not just at yourself, but at everything. Angry that your mother was dead, angry that a simple surgery caused your mother’s apparently already weak heart to give out, angry that you had to figure out how to navigate this already crazy life without her. Angry that you hurt your best friend not once, but twice. 

Angry. Fucking angry. 

You step out of the van and step into his trailer. He was in the small kitchen with his shirt off, putting together sandwiches. It was very warm in his trailer. He didn’t look up when you walked in. You untie his hoodie and place it on the back of the chair. You watch as his back muscles clench when he reaches for two plates in the higher cabinets. You study him, the large tattoo on his back that started from his back right shoulder, all the way down to the curve of his hip. His jeans hung low at his waist; you could make out the small pieces of hair sticking out from his happy trail. 

“Where’s Wayne?” You manage to ask quietly. 

“Another overnight.” He mutters. “He won’t be back til late morning.” He puts a plate with the sandwich in front of you, it clanked loudly on the small table and the sound made you jump. He sits down on the couch, his boot clad feet rest against the coffee table and he turns on the television, still not making eye contact. You weren’t hungry, but it felt rude not to eat, you pick away at the crust from the bread. 

“You don’t have to eat it; I was just being nice.” He mumbles. He was really upset with you, and the pain in your chest got bigger as you stare at his form. 

“Eddie, I—”

“You can have my bed. It’s late, you have a big day tomorrow. I already called your dad.” He finally meets your eyes. There was nothing behind them except pure, unfiltered, hurt. Defeated, you nod, silently walking back to his room, closing the door quietly. 

Eddie watches his door close with you disappearing and leans forward on his knees, placing the sandwich he didn’t know why he made on the coffee table, holding his hands to his mouth. Part of him knew it was the drugs making you act the way, and the other part knew it was you trying to manage your own emotions with the grief. It didn’t stop the hurt he felt in his chest though; certain moments from a long time ago were brought up that he wishes never resurfaced. 

He wishes it never resurfaced because now he won’t stop thinking about it. He remembers thinking he was snorting was cocaine, but as soon as it went into his airways, he knew he had fucked up. He had vomited so hard afterwards, and wanted to kill whoever supplied the stuff. Then he started to feel it, really feel it. And everything else was over for him after that. He made the same promise to himself that you did, he would never touch the stuff again. But you broke that promise, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information. 

You wake up the next morning with a groan, the sun was peeking through his broken blinds, and you squint. You had stripped down to your bra and underwear in the middle of the night, you had forgotten to turn on his air conditioner. You can hear the shower running and you sit up. Your head was pounding, not just from the hangover, but from the amount of cocaine you did the night before. 

A pain hits your chest when you realize how awful you were to him last night. You shouldn’t have done the stupid drugs; you should’ve just walked away but you didn’t.  Swinging your legs off his bed, you awkwardly stumble out of his room and head towards the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and you could see the steam on the glass door of the shower, and a blur from where he stood. You push open the door, and you know he hears it because he pauses, but continues to wash his hair. You sit down to pee, not embarrassed by the sound of it. Being best friends with Eddie Munson for ten years, you would lose count the number of times he’s stood in the same bathroom with you as you did your business. 

You step out of your underwear and unclasp your bra. You push the sliding door of the shower open and step in. The inside of the shower itself was spacious. You stare at his back, the dimples above his ass, and the curve of his hips. He doesn’t say a word to you when you step closer to him, you press your lips on the spot between his shoulder blades, his body slightly trembles at your touch, and you slink your arm around to his chest. His hand grips your forearm, holding it there. 

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper to him. The water cascades down you now, your hair soaking. He takes your hand and places his lips to your knuckles, turning around to face you. You look up at him, he cups your face. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“I’ll live.” You say, twirling his wet curl in your fingers. “You are the last person I wanted to hurt, and I did that more than once last night. I’m an idiot, who thought they could handle something they couldn’t. And I took that out on you, I’m sorry.” 

He smiles softly, his fingers running over your lips. “I take it I was right?” 

“As always.” You say with an eye roll and a smirk. 

“Are you okay?” He asks gently and chuckles. “That’s a dumb question.” 

“No, it’s not.” You smirk and shrug. “I guess, right now I am. But I probably won’t be in a few hours. It was a lot, seeing her that way…finding out what caused…” You pause. “Eddie, how can you stand here and ask me if I’m okay and be so goddamn sweet to me with the way I acted last night? With what I brought up?” 

He smiles at you, cupping your face with both his hands. “Because even though you’re the biggest pain in the ass I have ever met in my life, I still love you. Like a whole lot. You’re my best friend, above everything else, and you need to know that nothing you can say or do will make me leave you. I already told you; you’re stuck with me.” 

“But Eddie, what I said about the heroin…”

“Look in my eyes.” He tells you and you listen. “Promise me this, okay?” You nod. “Promise me you will never touch the stuff again, and if you feel the urge to, come to me instead. And I’ll do the same.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling a dull ache in your chest. What you brought up last night not only brought up memories he wished to forget but brought up the way it made him feel. As if you couldn’t hate yourself more. 

“I promise.” You tell him, opening your eyes. “I’m so sorry, Eddie.” 

“Stop.” He tells you gently, rubbing his nose along your jaw. “Just kiss me.” 

You do as you’re told, and your lips meet his in a sweet kiss. His hands caress your back, gently moving down to massage your ass. The water from the shower was steamy, and it felt good against your skin as you kissed him. You press your breasts into his chest to deepen the kiss, and he chuckles when you slip a little and fall into him. 

“Turn around.” He tells you softly, and you do so. You can hear him lather soap into his hands and groan quietly when he starts to massage your shoulders. You moan quietly, your muscles relaxing under his touch. He moves closer to you, and he lathers more of your back. His hands move to your tummy, gently rubbing circles around your belly button, moving his hands up to massage under your breasts. Your nipples harden and your head falls back into his shoulder as he gently massages your breasts, his fingers gently moving over your nipples. The sensation of his lips on your neck, the sound of the shower and the intimacy of him touching you causes a wetness to pool in between your legs. 

You can feel his cock pressing onto your ass and gasp when his hand travels over your mound and fingers your clit. His lips still lick and suck at the skin of your neck and your breathing picks up. He holds one of your breasts in his hands while the other plays with you gently. You reach behind you, taking his cock in your hands and start gently stroking him. His moan rumbles against your ear and he pinches your nipple. He rubs you faster, and you drape your other arm around his neck, moaning loud. His lips find your mouth, and he kisses you deeply and opens his mouth to massage your tongue with his. He pulls away from you, pushing you against the glass door with a thud and you smile in amazement at his forceful gesture. He goes down to his knees and he immediately sucks on your clit. You gasp, your back arches against the glass and he massage your ass, groaning as his buries his face into you, lapping you up. 

He pulls away with a moan and looks up at you with a smile. “Fuck, you taste so good.” 

He stands up again; kisses you hungrily and whips you around so you’re pressed up against the glass. The coolness from the glass makes your nipples harden once again and you bite your lip, feeling him move his fingers up and down on your opening. You feel him press up against you and the hardness of his cock as he brushes the tip of it against your ass and grinds into your folds.

“Oh…” You moan out and you feel him as he angles your ass up a little. His slides his cock into you and the bathroom echoes with both of your moans. He fucks you against the glass, each roll of his hips causing a sensation to flow from your belly all the way down to your toes. Your head leans back and you feel his hand cup around your throat, gently applying pressure and you cry out, pushing your ass against him as he slams into you, harder. 

He applies more pressure to your throat, and you welcomed this new pleasure with open arms. This was a sensation you’ve never felt before, he wasn’t hurting you, or trying to cut off your air supply, but it was new and the way he was manhandling you was making you seconds away from exploding all over his cock. His mouth finds your ear and gently grazes his teeth. 

“Ooh, someone likes it when I do this.” He coos in your ear, groaning with every thrust. Your cunt aches nicely at his words; still getting used to the fact that your best friend, who was now your boyfriend, your lover, who you were madly in love with, was fucking you like this. 

He thrusts into your harder and you cry out when he pulls away. He turns off the shower and you turn to look at him, catching your breath, your cheeks flushed, both of you soaking from head to toe. He kisses you deeply, pulling away to lick your neck, suck and bite at your nipples. 

“Get on my bed.” He tells you breathlessly. You still stare at him as you open the shower door, he helps you step out carefully and you still watch him with a smile, walking backwards towards his room. He shuts his door, spins you around and pushes you on your stomach, lifting your ass up to meet his hips. You grip his sheet as he slams his cock back inside you, the sounds that came from him were almost animalistic and so sexy, you moaned loudly with him. He holds your hips, and you arch your back, your hair was dripping onto his covers. 

Tugging gently at your hair, he lifts you up so your back is against his. His mouth meets yours and you kiss passionately, his hand is at your throat again, pressing down, your cunt clenching as you get close to release. His other hand goes in between your legs and finds your clit, rubbing circles as he continues his rhythm. 

“Fuck, baby.” He groans in your ear, his movements getting a little sloppy as you continue to clench around him. 

“I’m gonna cum, Eddie.” You cry out and he moans in approval, his cock hitting your insides faster and faster until you scream out his name and you cum, hard. The sudden tightness around his cock causes him to groan out, exploding inside of you and he lets out a loud, throaty moan. He breathes loudly, still groaning out as you feel another orgasm rip through you. The sounds from both of you were so pornographic you didn’t know how to form words. You collapse onto the bed, your face burying in his pillow as you gasp and catch your breath. You smile lovingly as you turn to your back and let out a soft laugh. He swallows hard, gently laying on your chest and brings your nipple into his mouth and sucks gently. Your back arches at the sensitivity and another moan escapes you. His wet hair was draped over your chest, and you curl your fingers in it. 

“That was…” you laugh. “That was different.” 

He lifts his face to look at you, gently grazing his fingers over your throat. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“No, nope.” A laugh escapes you. “Never thought in a million years I’d be choked out by my best friend, and it feel good.” 

He blushes, hiding his face in your chest. You rub his back gently, and sigh. You both lay there quietly for a few moments. Realizing what today was, your stomach does a back flip, and you tighten his hold on him. 

“I’m scared.” You whisper. 

He gently rubs your belly. “I know.” 

“You’ll stay with me? The whole time?” 

He lifts his face up to meet your eyes, running his hand over your face. “I won’t leave your side. I promise.” He leans up, kissing your lips sweetly, gently and you sigh, holding him closer as you stare at the ceiling. 

Eddie had driven you back home to get ready, he promised he would be back as soon as he was dressed and meet you back at your house. You had hugged your father so tightly as soon as you walked in, taking him by surprise. You stood like that hugging him for minutes and he embraced you lovingly, you apologized for last night. You left out the part of you finding out that your mother had congestive heart failure, you didn’t feel right bringing up an ailment your mother had for years, unsure if he knew or not.

The funeral itself started at 4:00pm, but they wanted the family to come an hour and half early to take some time with her. Since your mother was being cremated afterwards, the burial would be private, and the plan was for your uncle to go to Boston to place some of her ashes in the soil of your grandparents’ grave. Your father had asked if you wanted to do the eulogy, you reluctantly agreed but had no idea what you wanted to say or could say. You stood in your room in front of your full-length mirror. You stood there in black tights that went all the way up your waist, and a black lacey bra. For someone who had an entire wardrobe full of dark clothes, especially black, you couldn’t decide on a top. 

You end up finding a fitted black dress with short sleeves, the neckline was a little low, but you placed your mother’s emerald necklace over your head to give it a pop of color and something to look at besides the hills of your breasts. Your doc martens were your mother’s favorite shoes on you, you would catch her wearing them from time to time, so you step into those. 

You had accentuated the waves in your hair with a little hairspray, placed a little mascara on your lashes and didn’t bother with lipstick. There’s a knock at your front door and you glance at the clock, it was 2:30pm, it must’ve been Eddie. Your father had let him in, and you could hear them patting each other on the back’s after giving each other a hug. You hear his footfalls come into room and you glance at him in the mirror leaning against your door frame. Your breath hitches at the sight of him. 

He was wearing a black dress shirt, the top three buttons undone, exposing some of his chest, tucked into his jeans. His silver chain necklace with his guitar pick was peeking out. He wore a black blazer which was a little fitted and you were wondering if he had borrowed it from Wayne. His black jeans were surprisingly not ripped, and he wore pointed toe boots. You couldn’t tell if you were staring at Eddie Van Halen or Eddie Munson. Either way, he looked so handsome. You smile at him in the mirror, and he smiles back, he walks towards you, wrapping his arms around your middle and you lean back into him. 

“You ready?” He whispers, kissing your hair. “You look beautiful.” 

“Are we supposed to look beautiful?” You chuckle softly and sigh. “Yeah, I’m ready.” 

You turn to him, and he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his brown eyes kind as he stares into yours. “If you need a minute, you tell me. We will take a break, get some fresh air.” 

You nod, staring up at him, cupping his cheek. “What?” He asks you with a smile.

“You’re just…you’re something else, Eddie Munson.” 

He smiles. “You just bring out my good side, I’m a huge asshole. You know this.” 

You laugh, leaning up on your toes, kissing him softly. “Okay, let’s go.” You take his hand and the two of you walk out of his room, your stomach was in knots, your palms began to sweat, and you couldn’t swallow. This was it. This was the moment you dreaded for 5 days.

Your dad had driven with your Uncle Jimmy to the funeral home, you followed behind in your car with Eddie. When you pull into the parking lot, you notice the orange cones, and the directors standing by the doors. You both step out of the car and he takes his sunglasses off of his eyes.

“Lurch?” Eddie says out loud, looking at the tall man by the doors, you mutter a curse, covering his mouth with your hand, bringing his head to your shoulder and you cackle loudly. He looks up at you very confused and you pull your hand away.

“You have the loudest mouth, shut up. I’ll tell you later.” You whisper to him, holding in your laughter.  

“Yeah but…look at him!”

“Shut up, Eddie!” You laugh and you follow your father and uncle up the stone steps. Lurch nods at the two of you and you still suppress your laughter as you walk into the lobby. 

There’s a guest book to sign with prayer cards, the Irish Blessing was printed on the front with her name, birth and death date. Eddie takes them and puts them in his pocket, signing his name. You both follow your father and uncle’s tall forms into the viewing room, and you immediately stop breathing as you see the beautiful mahogany of her casket. There was a soft melody of piano music playing through the speakers. 

Your father walks towards her, and before you had a second to react, his legs are buckling. Eddie rushes to him with Jimmy on one side, cradling him so he doesn’t fall. Your hand goes to your mouth as you watch the scene unfold, you stood frozen, and the sound of your father’s cries sent daggers into your heart. You feel your feet move before the rest of your body and rush towards him, you rest your palm on his back and kneel in front of him. 

“I’ll go with you, Daddy. Hold on to me, okay?” He looks up at you, tears streaming down his face, and he nods. Eddie and Jimmy help him to his feet, and you link your arm in his. They stood behind, watching as you two walk slowly to her. More sobs escape your father as you stand in front of her, your eyes fill with tears and you turn your head away, resting it against father’s arm, squeezing your eyes shut. You could hear Jimmy sniffling behind you, you couldn’t look at him either.

“Oh, my girl.” He cries softly, kneeling on the prayer bench. As you finally open your eyes to look at your mother, you realize that you may have completely disassociated while doing her make up. She looked stunning, and you thought the whole time you were doing her make up, she looked dead, not asleep. But she really looked asleep. Your father meets your eyes and kisses the top of your hand. 

“She looks like her.” He says, smiling softly. “Thank you.” 

You nod, gently helping him up to move away from the casket. You sit your father down on one of the cushioned chairs and hand him a cup of water from the pitcher on the table. You sit next to him, holding his hand as you watch Jimmy kneels in front of your mother. His shoulders shook with sobs, and he gently smooths out her hair, he stands up from the bench, walking down the hallway to wipe his tears, pacing.

Eddie didn’t kneel, he stood there with his hands resting on his thighs. He stares at her, biting his bottom lip and you could see his eyes fill with tears. He goes to touch her hand but stops himself, a soft groan escapes him, and he shakes his head, turning away, pressing his palms to his eyes, walking away down the aisle of chairs. You feel your father nudge you to go to him and you stand up, walking towards him. His back is to you, his palms are still pressed against his eyes, and you place your hand on his lower back. He turns to you, so many tears fell from his eyes, and you pull him into you for a hug. He holds onto your waist tightly, quietly whimpering into your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was.” He sounded so pained; your heart broke.

“You loved her, that’s what that was.” You tell him softly and he lifts his head from your shoulder. You wipe his tears away from his cheek and he sighs. “If you want to go back, I’ll go with you.” 

He shakes his head and smiles at you. “No, it’s alright. There are a few things I need to say to her.” He kisses your lips gently and you watch him walk back towards your mother. 

He kneels and rests his chin on his hands as he looks at her, more tears fell from his eyes, and he didn’t seem to care. He knelt there for a few moments, and you watch as he snaps his necklace from his neck, placing it gently on her hands, the guitar pick resting against her ring finger. Your bottom lip trembles at the intimate moment, and he gently kisses the top of your mother’s head, lingering there for a moment before pulling away. You feel yourself falling more in love with him at that exact moment.

He walks towards your father, embracing him in a bear hug. Your father squeezes his shoulder, the two of them having a silent conversation and Eddie wipes his eyes, walking back towards you. He slinks his arm around your waist and pulls you to him. You sigh, glancing at the clock. More people would be showing up. 

The funeral home was full of people you either hadn’t seen in so many years or had never met in your life. A lot of them had wonderful things to say to about your mother and some had even brough pictures which you hadn’t seen before. A lot of them had traveled from Boston. You almost broke down when Hopper walked in, he hugged you close to his chest and patted your head. 

“Don’t forget to take a breather, kid, okay?” He says gently and you nod. 

You had stepped outside for a moment, placing your hand on your knees to breathe in deep. It was so overwhelming in there and so stuffy. You felt like you were suffocating; you didn’t even tell Eddie you went outside, but he had found you anyway. Gently rubbing your back as you try to settle your nerves, he whispers that Steve and Robin were there. Robin was already crying when she hugged you, she had a glass dish in her hands. 

“I forgot to give this back to your mom when she made that casserole for me. I’m sorry, I kept wanting to give it back, but I never thought…I didn’t…” She was sputtering and you gently place your hand over hers.

“Keep it.” You smile at her, and she nods, Steve leads her inside and Eddie looks you over. 

“It’s almost over.” He tells you gently.

“I know.” You sigh. “I know.”

Your father peeks his head out the doorway. “Honey? It’s time for the eulogy.” 

You stop breathing, you had forgotten. 

Eddie sees you tense and keeps a watchful eye on you as you walk silently back into the funeral home. There was a small podium in front of her casket, and you look up at Eddie with pleading eyes, he walks with you to the front, keeping a short distance between you two as you stood there, looking at all the solemn faces of your mother’s loved ones.

“Um, thank you all for being here…” Your voice shakes. “I didn’t write anything or have anything prepared.” You inhale deeply, looking behind you at your mother’s form. You stare at her face; your bottom lip quivers and you inhale a shaky breath. You turn back towards them. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this…I’m sorry.” 

Eddie squeezes your hand as you go towards him, you see him stare at your mother and he holds your face in his hands, looking in your eyes, asking you a silent question. You nod and he pulls away from you. Everyone’s eyes fix on him, and you lean your shoulder against your father. 

Eddie lets out a breath and begins to speak. “Hi, some of you know me, some of you don’t. My name is Eddie, Eddie Munson. I have known this family for ten years, and I guess, I guess I have a lot to say about this special woman.” He looks over at you and smiles. “I never knew what it felt like to have a mother, I mean, if I did, I was really little, and those memories have completely faded. That all changed when I met this woman. Without questions, without judgement, she took me in as her own. It took me some time to get used to, I was used to being loved by the ones who cared about me, but when it was that motherly love, I had no idea how to deal with it. There were times I think I tried to push her away, especially when I got in trouble, but she forced her way through my walls and held on tight and I didn’t…” His voice shakes, tears pool in his eyes. “I didn’t let go. I didn’t want to. She was a force to be reckon with, right Hop?” 

“She terrified me.” Hopper says from his seat, and everyone laughs. 

Eddie chuckles, glancing over at you. “She protected her own like a lioness. Her beautiful daughter is living proof of the pure heart and soul of that woman. It would take hours for me to express how grateful I am for this family, for her as mother I always needed. I loved her, and it hurts that I can’t tell her that.” He looks behind him at her face, a tear falls freely from his eye. “But for now, I can tell you all what you already know. You will never find another one like her, a woman that embraces a freak like me into her arms, a woman that cooks a meal for an entire army. A woman who sends some of the toughest dudes running just by being in her line of sight. A woman who loved and loved hard. She wouldn’t want us sad, let’s be real she’s probably up there pointing and laughing at us, calling us babies.” That got another laugh out of them. “That’s what she wants us to do. Love. Love hard, tell your loved ones you love them. Follow her example and honor her everyday if you can.” 

Tears are streaming down everyone’s faces, especially you. You embrace Eddie in a tight embrace, your voice muffled in his chest, and you tell him your thanks over and over. 

Once everyone started to file out, you overhear your father talking to your uncle in the lobby. 

“I can’t do it; I physically cannot bring myself to do it. She was my baby sister, the thought of her…”

“It’s okay, Jim. It’s okay. We can figure something out.” Your father tells him gently. 

You walk closer to them. “What’s going on?”  

“We have a change of plans for her ashes. It’s not fair to put it all on Jimmy. We can brainstorm and figure out a better plan.” 

“Well, I can do it.” 

Your father looks at you. “Really? You’d go to Boston?”

“Yeah, you know how much I loved it there. It would be nice to go back. I have enough money saved to get a hotel room for a few days.” 

“Don’t worry about the money, I’ll take care of the hotel. I’d feel better if someone went with you.” 

Eddie walks into the room, his eyes still a little puffy and he gently grips your waist. 

“Wanna go to Boston?” You ask him. 

“Right now?” He asks you, cocking his eyebrows. 

“No, dumbass. In a few days. With my mom.” You stifle a laugh at his face which held pure confusion. “Her ashes?” 

“Oh! Oh yeah, yeah I’ll go. Road trip?” 

You nod and look up at your dad who smiles tightly, and you chuckle at his expression. “My daughter and Eddie Munson in a hotel room. Alone. Together. For a few days. Pretty sure God has it out for me.” 

He claps Eddie on the shoulder, heading back into the viewing room to say his final goodbyes to his wife. Jimmy hugs you tightly, thanking you for doing something he couldn’t and had left the funeral home, he had already said goodbye to your mother. 

You walk back into the room and your father gives you a minute alone. Eddie stands off to the side watching you. You kneel, gently smoothing out her hair, caressing her cheek gently.

“You know you were right about everything.” You tell her quietly, glancing over your shoulder at Eddie. “About me and Eddie. You always had that sixth sense about you.” You place your hands over hers and smile. 

“I’m gonna marry him one day. I’m gonna have his babies and we’ll have a cute little house with a dog. But you already knew that.” 

You wipe a tear away and lean forward, kissing her cheek softly. “I’ll see you in Boston, mama.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x smut #eddie munson x fluff #Eddie Munson x hurt comfort

[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 25: Wondering If I Just Lost The Love Of My Life

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: After your conversation with Frank, you start spiraling, and you find yourself at Jimmy's house, looking desperately for answers. Michael isn't too happy about that.

Warnings: ANGST, cursing, snooping around, snakes, allusions to child abuse & PTSD, Michael is pissed (and maybe a bit mean), rough grabbing of the arm (Is that a warning?), fighting, crying, semi-break up

Word Count: 8.6k

A/n: WOHOO I'M BACK!! Anyway, this chapter is only the beginning of this angst plot line, so... Don't hate me.

Tick, tick, tick…

One hour turns into two. Two hours turned into three. You’re alone, stuck in a house that isn’t yours, holding pictures of your sister who you haven’t seen in years in your hands because the man you chose to fall in love with has a family set out to destroy you; and for what? Because they aren’t happy with an adult man’s decisions?

Your life feels like it was written by a sadistic author; far more sadistic than yourself. You can’t keep up anymore.

Just a few months ago, you were somewhat happy working your ass off for some money at the Butterfly Effect. You made the process of brewing coffee for customers your life, and you enjoyed it. You fled your home to chase your dream of being a writer. What else are you supposed to do with your degree, anyway? And you were on a good path, saving money and trying to find an agent, but then Michael walked into your life. 

You don’t want to say that he ruined everything. You love him. You love him more than you have ever loved anyone, which is horrifying in itself, but you can’t deny that your life may have been a little easier if he hadn’t come into the shop that morning. If you hadn’t allowed yourself to get attached. Now, you’re involved with a family who is swimming against the flow of legality—and what scares you most about all of this are the thoughts you keep having that perhaps the Kinsellas could help you in a way not even the police ever could. 

You’re pressed against the wall next to the dining table, and your lungs keep forgetting that they are supposed to supply your body with life-sustaining oxygen. Every now and then, your eyes drift to the pictures in your hands. A tear rolls down your cheek, landing on the paper. It magnifies the size of your father’s face, and the memories that hit you at full force leave you clawing at the wood of the nearest chair. 

You were doing so well. You were an awkward barista with a safe future to look forward to. Now, you’re a barista using up all of her sick days because she isn’t allowed to leave the house of her Irish boyfriend—who just so happens to be part of an organized crime family. It sounds like the plot of a bad novel, but to you, it is very much real. 

Time was on your side until it wasn’t, and you have reached a point where desperation seems too kind of a word to explain what you’re feeling. Raw, unbridled anger fills your veins; the need to take the next plane out of Dublin is all-consuming, but you can’t be irrational. Not now. Michael was right about that part. 

You can’t help who you fall in love with, you know as much. Michael is damaged, but he’s yours. He is so human, you wish you could wrap him up and shield him from the world forever. From his family. From the pain. From the uncertainty. You wish you could grab him, your bags, and his daughter and run far away from this city. But those are wishes that seem too far away to even grasp.

If you have to get involved to prevent the worst from happening, you don’t have much of a choice but to do so. You only have one more thing left to lose, and she means the world to you. Breaking the rules—the law—seems like the lesser evil compared to waiting for the hourglass to run out of sand.

With shaky fingers, you dial the number you have dialed a few days ago. It’s still in your caller list. 

The line clicks, and the woman at Scotland Yard’s front desk answers again. It’s the same as last time. “Uh, hi,” you stammer into the speaker. “I called a few days ago, but I haven’t received an answer yet. I need to speak to Inspector Jones. It’s urgent. Would you mind connecting me with his office?”

Silence follows. Either she is taking a very pregnant pause to tell you something completely opposite of what you want to hear, or she is checking something in her system. You do hope it is the latter option. But of course, luck is still not on your side. 

The woman utters your name in the lowest tone possible. “Inspector Jones told me to inform you that he does not want to take your call,” she says. “He put you on his, uh, no-call list. I’m sorry, Miss. I wish I had better news.”

Her apology doesn’t bring back the hope he so mercilessly crushed in his bare hands and left it there, dying on the side of the road. Her apology doesn’t bring back your sister or supply you with the information on the case only Richard Jones has. He used to be so helpful when it happened. He told you that you could always call him. 

The question that nags you is, what changed? You haven’t called him in years, and now he suddenly acts like you’re the plague personified? It doesn’t sit right with you, but as soon as you’re on the no-call list, there is no way you can get through to him. 

You don’t wish her goodbye. You don’t tell her, ‘Oh no, it’s alright,’ because it isn’t alright. You hang up without another word, your phone slipping from your hand onto the floor. 

Swallowing a sob, you decide to pull yourself together. Michael keeps his laptop in the living room—though you suppose not always. You flop down on the couch with a huff. Of course, the device is password-protected. A picture on one of his shelves catches your eye, and you reach for it. Part of you is screaming to stop because looking at a picture of his daughter feels like an invasion of privacy, but you can’t listen to the left side of your brain. You turn it around, in search of the right combination of numbers. 

Anna’s birthday. It sounds so obvious—too obvious for a man as careful as Michael—but as soon as you type the numbers into the bar and hit enter, his laptop unlocks. 

“So predictable,” you mutter.

Instead of finding his desktop though, you stare right at an open folder you are sure is not meant for your eyes. It is also protected by a password, which you can tell by the little lock following the icon, but Michael must have forgotten to close it.

You should close the folder, open a browser, and do what you intended to do—write an email to forego the no-call list and guilt-trip Inspector Jones into finding the balls to contact you back. It is a desperate attempt that might get you a restraining order, but you have to try. For that, Michael would surely not be mad at you. If you start snooping though…

Your eyes have a mind of their own, following an instinct as old as time. You can’t help yourself. You tilt the screen back, and you take a closer look. 

The idea is so maddeningly risky your stomach churns at the thought of the possible consequences of your actions, but who else is going to tell you the truth if you don’t find out yourself? Michael doesn’t want to drag you into his mess as you’re dealing with your own, and while you get that, you are so far beyond common sense that you need to know what the man you love is involved in. You need to know what his family is involved in. If you don’t, you’re sure curiosity might actually kill you. 

You tried to avoid getting caught up in the dangers of the Kinsella family; you should have known that trying and succeeding hardly ever go hand-in-hand when it comes to your mess of a life.

You know Michael. You know how careful he is when it comes to dealing with delicate matters. He told you he didn’t want to get swept up in his family’s bullshit again, but as you look at what’s in front of you, you’re not so sure he told you the truth. 

The file contains mostly recollections of the family business. Drugs, weapons, larceny—not that it would ever change the way you feel about him, even if he did lie to you. This is not the worst you have seen, and it surely won’t be the last piece of dramatic information that will ever pass before your eyes. 

What catches your attention is the mention of Jamie, the record of his death, and a stolen autopsy report. And among all of that, you find a name Michael and Jimmy threw at each other’s heads the other day. Your hand still hurts just thinking about it. 

A loud thud echoes through the house when you forcefully shut the laptop. Every nerve in your body is burning itself alive. Your soul can’t withstand the storm of your emotions. The truth hits you. Around you, the world is falling apart, and you are unable to move anywhere but further into the chaos. 

Michael came into the café months ago because he was in desperate need of a reprieve—he was the butterfly that flapped its wings over in Asia—and now you are on the verge of getting caught up in something that you will never be able to get out of again; it is a catastrophe waiting to happen. 

Destiny and karma are very real phenomena, but so is the Butterfly Effect. Instead of innocent coffee though, you are staring into the face of disaster, and you have no idea what to do. 

An idea pops into your head. You shouldn’t seek out trouble. You really, really should not, but not even five minutes later, the door to Michael’s home falls shut behind you as you take determined steps next door. Not across the street, not to your car but next door.

The realization that Michael might never forgive you for putting yourself in this position moves to the back of your mind. You promised him not to do anything stupid while he was gone, but you knew from the start that you would never be able to keep that promise. 

Your feet are rooted to the ground as you ring the doorbell. At first, you receive no response. Just when you figured that you must have misinterpreted the movements in the neighboring home that you caught through the bedroom window earlier this morning, the gate opens, and you snap out of the endless spiral of your thoughts.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Jimmy asks, his eyes trailing over your disheveled frame on his doorstep. 

Your eyes are red and swollen, and your outfit consists of a pair of Michael’s sweatpants and a shirt, but you weren’t planning on winning a fashion contest anyway. Jimmy deserves to see how miserable you are. Maybe then he will let you in.

He raises his eyebrows. “What? Came to hit my wife again? Last time wasn’t enough for ya?”

You let out an exasperated sigh, trying to hold contact with his dark eyes. “I need to talk to you,” you state matter-of-factly.

He eyes you again. “You look like shit.”

“Then I look better than I feel.”

“Hm. Does Michael know yer here?”

You expected him to snap at you—to lecture you—but that moment never comes.

You swallow thickly, then shake your head. “I’m here for answers,” you say. “And I feel like out of everyone in this family, you’re the only one who’ll be honest with me.”

“Why d’ya think I’d do that?” Jimmy asks.

“‘Cause you don’t like that I’m fucking your brother. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you couldn’t care less about what happens to me, which means that you also don’t feel the need to protect me or my delicate feelings.”

His lips curl into a smirk. As different as they are when it comes to their behavior, it is obvious that Jimmy and Michael are related. 

“I’m so sick and tired of not knowing. Not understanding. Not…not being in control.” Your lip quivers, and you bite down on it for a moment. “You didn’t act on Frank’s offer to threaten someone you don’t even know, so a twisted part of me feels like I can trust you. I won’t apologize for falling in love with your brother because despite what you all believe, he is an incredible man and he deserves the world. But loving him put my sister’s life at stake, and I need to know what I’m getting myself into before I lose her too. I–I just...I need five minutes. Please. And then I’ll be out of your hair, I promise.”

Against all odds, Jimmy steps aside, motioning for you to enter. The house is as luxurious as you expected. High walls, big windows, and cool tones. The nature of your visit, however, only fills you with a sense of uneasiness. 

You close the door behind you and follow Jimmy down the hallway. You wouldn’t dare push your luck by saying something uncalled for.

Now that Jamie’s dead, you understand why Michael always seems so stuck in thought. The stakes are higher. You try to find a sliver of understanding for why Birdy was so cautious with you and asked you all the questions that you saw as a personal attack. She wanted to protect you, and maybe that is true, but she let Frank’s actions slide for a little too long and you don’t know if you can forgive her for that.

She ended up attacking you personally even if that was never her intention, and she let her brother attack everything you hold dear by trying to protect her own family, and that is not something you can let slide.

Jimmy walks up to a set of stairs that lead into the basement. You’re hesitant at first, standing at the top of the steps and staring down at him with narrow eyes. “Are you going to kill me?” you bluntly ask. 

He rolls his eyes. “Unarmed,” he says. “You can check me. I’m not carryin’.”

“What if there are guns down there?”

“There are, but I’m not gonna use ‘em to hurt ya. Michael would cut off my head and feed it to the dogs.”

You huff, but you eventually cave and follow him down the stairs. You hear him mumble something about you being complicated, and maybe you are, but can anyone blame you? You feel like you just walked into the lion’s den. Perhaps you are insane. 

You function on a very determined autopilot that wants you to do things you would never have done a few weeks ago, and you have no choice but to follow or else you will bang your head against the wall; Michael really shouldn’t have left you alone. 

The basement resembles a second living room. A leather couch stands against the wall to the right, and Jimmy has a collection of free weights to choose from to work out. There is even a pool table and a fridge you suppose holds liquor only. It must be the family’s layer for when they get together and discuss whatever a family like them has to discuss. 

Looking further, you notice the terrarium in the middle of the room. It’s gigantic. You step a little closer. The yellow anaconda is easy to spot. You don’t doubt it could strangle you if you put it around your neck. It is surely thick enough to crush your windpipe in an instant.

“Drink?” Jimmy asks from somewhere behind you.

You shake your head. “I’m good.”

He hums. You can hear the sound of ice cubes hitting a glass, and he pours whiskey over it. 

“You like snakes?”

You look at him, and then back at the snake. “I find them fascinating,” you state. 

“They’re fascinatin’ creatures, alright,” he says. “You wanna hold her?”

You don’t miss a beat, “Absolutely not.”

“Okay.”

You stand there in silence for a while, just watching the anaconda move her large body around her transparent living quarters. She sticks out her tongue. If you could talk to animals, you wonder what she would tell you. What has she witnessed in this room? The snake knows all the answers to the questions you are asking yourself.

“Why Michael?” Jimmy breaks the silence.

“He’s a good man,” you answer. It doesn’t require much thought. “I told you. He’s a much better man than you give him credit for.”

“A good man has no place here.”

“Who are you to judge that?”

He scoffs. “You have any idea what yer gettin’ yourself into?” 

“I knew from the moment I found out who he was. That doesn’t change how I feel about him.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

“If you’re going to tell me that it’s my fault that I got caught up in all of this, save it. I’m well aware of that.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“Because I love him!” your voice echoes in the spacious basement. “I love Michael with all my heart. So much it hurts. I would do anything for him because you failed him over and over again, and he deserves so much better than you useless lot.”

Taken aback by the force of your words without actively yelling at him, Jimmy lowers his glass. He stares at you with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment in his eyes, and you’ve seen that look in Michael’s eyes one too many times. You want to smash something, but that would only make matters worse, and you really didn’t come to cause a scene.

Jimmy infuriates you in a way not many men have managed. You want to hit him, give him a shiner that will rival the one his wife is probably carrying, but realistically, you don’t stand much of a chance against this man. He is strong. He could feed you to his anaconda if he wanted to. Even if Michael would behead him, he would do anything to save himself. He is the epitome of selfishness, and you refuse to stoop low enough to be on his level.

You take a deep breath, lowering your voice again. “But I’m not just here because I love Michael. I’m here because your uncle decided that he had to let out his disdain for me on an innocent child,” you say.

“I’m not okay with that either,” Jimmy cuts in. “I don’t have control over Frank’s actions. I lost my son–”

“I’m aware, and I am so sorry for your loss, I am. I know how it feels to lose a child because my father killed my little sister and while she wasn’t my biological daughter, I was the one who raised her. And I raised Maya too. So, even if I left, even if I broke Michael’s heart and gave you what you so desperately want, my sister would still be in danger. My father would still be running free. And I’d still have no choice but to stay here because thanks to you, I am in danger too and Michael refuses to let me leave.”

A sigh leaves his parted lips, and he empties his glass. 

“This isn’t about me, Jimmy. It never has been. Not for me, at least. This is about Maya as much as your insecurities are about Michael. Except that Maya is a human being who has nothing to do with any of this. Not with Michael, not with you, and not with your godforsaken family. You don’t have to remind me how awful of a human being I am—I’m well aware of that myself, trust me, but I won’t stop trying to get answers until I have found a way to make sure she’s okay. That she’s safe. That I can get her back and end this once and for all because Frank didn’t leave me a fucking choice.”

You pull the pictures out of your coat. “He came to the house earlier. Gave me those. He said he told his men to leave her alone, but who’s to say that he didn’t already do irreversible damage?” you say. “I don’t know why Michael being happy is such a huge inconvenience to you, but I don’t care. I care about my family. Now, you can either help me or not, but don’t act like you have any right whatsoever to lecture me. You don’t even fucking know me.”

Jimmy takes the photographs. His eyebrows furrow slightly as he stares down at them. A drop of condensation from his glass drops on the paper, the same spot your tears dried into.

Your chest still heaves with every breath you take. “Jimmy,” you growl. The silence drills into your skull. 

When he finally opens his mouth, his voice resembles a steady tune. “I don’t stand behind Frank,” he says. “Not on this. He shouldn’t have done it.”

“I am well aware of that, thank you.”

“None of us knew yer story. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For Frank, for Birdy—hell, I’m even sorry fer how Amanda treated you. If I’d known…”

“Would you’ve stopped her?” you counter. 

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter now.”

“It matters to me.”

“There are ways to get rid of someone without puttin’ anyone in unnecessary danger. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

His expression is set in stone. You can’t determine whether or not he’s lying to you.

“Did Michael offer ya his help?” Jimmy asks then. “Regarding your, uh, father.”

You blink a few times, wondering if he really just asked you that. But you swallow your doubts, straighten your shoulders, and you nod. “Yeah, he did,” you say.

“Offered t’put a protective detail on her? Kill the bastard?”

“Something along those lines.”

“Then why hasn’t he?”

“Because death would be too kind for that man.”

The faintest smirk starts playing on his lips. “Can’t blame ya,” he states. 

“Of course not,” you retort. “I won’t stoop to my father’s level. He deserves to be put in prison for the rest of his life. A bullet to his head would end his suffering, and I refuse to let him down that easily.”

“Is that why you came here?”

You shake your head again. “I need answers.”

“Why wouldn’t Michael give them to ya?” Jimmy cocks an eyebrow. “He’s fuckin’ obsessed.”

“He may love me, but he has a protective instinct that makes it almost impossible for me to get the whole truth out of him,” you explain. “Michael wasn’t there when Frank came over. Perhaps because he knew Michael wouldn’t be there. He caught me off guard. I was vulnerable, and he used that against me.”

He tilts his head. “What did he say?”

“Just that he put an end to what he started. But I can’t believe that, now can I? He’d already started it.”

“You’re a lot smarter than I thought.”

Your lips part in a bitter scoff. “I found some things on Michael’s laptop,” you tell him. “I need to understand what I got myself into here. Maybe find some common ground. In my mind, after everything that went down at Birdy’s house, you’re the least untrustworthy, and while we may not be the best of friends, I can’t limit myself to what Michael thinks is right. Take it as a compliment or don’t, but I’m desperate here.”

He murmurs your name as he makes his way over to the open bottle of whiskey to pour himself another glass. His steps are careful.

You are well aware that you should tread carefully, and Jimmy seems to be on the same page as you that this is a bad idea, but you were desperate and you saw no other choice. You would have crawled up the walls of Michael’s empty house if you had waited, staring at the bullet holes in the walls and wondering if you would end up dead at the end of this the same way his wife did; or if you’d merely lose everything you’ve ever loved and be left with nothing else left to give.

“Who’s Eamon?” you blurt out. 

Jimmy stops dead in his tracks. You hit a nerve. Seemingly with a sledgehammer, too.

“Because from what I heard and what Michael has on him, he’s a perilous man.”

“Fuck!” Jimmy curses under his breath.

“Please, I just want to know. What is Michael caught up in?”

“We’re all caught up in it.” The tone of his voice has changed and switched to a more dangerous octave, and it sends shivers down your spine. “Eamon—Eamon fuckin’ Cunningham had my son killed, and Michael thinks he’s too good to help us get back at him because of Anna. That’s what.”

Your eyes soften. “I’m sorry, I—”

“He’s our supplier. Drugs. If ya really wanna know. Changed his business model. Wants us t’be his bitches. He’s a power-hungry bastard, that one. I didn’t wanna cave, but then Jamie—and Frank—”

With an animalistic growl that resembles a string of curses, he wipes the small table before him clean. The contents shatter on the ground, scattering millions of pieces of glass around the basement floor. You flinch.

The echo of his shout remains stuck to the walls. One of the shards scratches your forearm—not nearly enough to draw blood—before hitting the ground. The force causes the bottle to implode, and the crystal glasses break beyond repair the second they hit the ground.

You want to tell him that Michael doesn’t owe him anything. You want to tell Jimmy that none of this is Michael’s fault, but you have enough empathy to know when to speak and when to just be silent.

Grief is an unpredictable monster.

Jimmy takes a deep breath, then turns back around to face you. “I dunno what I can tell ya, but this family isn’t safe for someone like you,” he says. It sounds as though he actually cares, but you see right through him this time. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you answer, trying to pick your words with an incredible amount of care; don’t raise your voice, don’t shout at him, just tell him what’s on your mind in a way that is respectful and he might not lash out at you. “But Michael is fresh out of prison, trying to find himself a place in this world. I understand why he said that he can’t help you execute whatever revenge you have planned for whoever did this to your son. And I understand that this business you’re in is dangerous for every party involved, but that doesn’t deter me.”

Across the room, he meets your eyes. 

“I knew what I was getting myself into from the start,” you emphasize. “Michael promised me I’d be safe, and I trust him with my life, but now your family put my sister in danger, and we have to find a way to put an end to this mess because I refuse to let your little family dispute ruin my life. Michael can’t help me as he promised when he can’t manage to separate himself from you. Finding that file proved to me that he may have said that he’s done, but he isn’t, so I might as well accept that I’m not getting out of this either.”

He exhales, wiping his sticky hands on his trousers. “I underestimated ya,” he says. “But I suppose that’s what happens when your father’s a bastard.”

You shrug. “I just can’t run when you’re my only hope.”

Jimmy chuckles. “If we’re your only hope, I feel bad for ya.”

“Believe me, I feel plenty bad for myself already, but if I’d waited and told Michael about my plans, he wouldn’t have let me come here, and I still wouldn’t be much smarter than I was this morning.”

“Would you do somethin’ for us then? If we helped ya?” he asks. 

One hand washes the other, right?

The words for an answer get taken out of your mouth by the sound of the front door slamming shut. 

“Where is she?” Michael’s voice breaks through the ceiling. 

Your eyes widen. You have heard him feral before—when he was holding the gun to Frank’s head and threatened him, his voice lowering, barely above a whisper but every word as forceful as the next. His silent anger is the most dangerous form. It did something to you to see the man you love so livid because he saw your life at stake. 

You weren’t scared of him, you couldn’t possibly be, but the thought alone spikes the adrenaline in your veins, and your mind screams for you to run. It is the kind of effect he wants to have on people when he is angry; it is the type of effect he has on everyone because one looks at his fuming self and anyone would want to cower in the corner and cry. And maybe it makes your thighs clench just a little because no amount of fury could take away from how attractive this man is. But that is not the first thought that crosses your mind now.

The stairs creak with every heavy step Michael takes into the basement, and you hold your breath. Fuck. 

Jimmy stares at the mess on the floor, then back at you. You wonder if he’s scared that he might be the next in front of Michael’s gun. He surely didn’t hesitate when it came to Frank. Who knows if he would draw the line at his brother, but from what you have gathered from their relationship, there is a chance he won’t. 

“Jimmy,” is the first word on his lips when he makes it downstairs. His eyes are wide, pupils blown, and his fists clench at his sides. The cuddly teddy bear you said goodbye to this morning has disappeared completely under an iron veil. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Michael sneers. 

Your first instinct is to step between him and his brother. Only then does he seem to take a look at you. You meet his brown eyes, your palms extended to press against his chest. 

“Easy,” you murmur. You don’t see the need to snap at him. 

He takes you in, his clothes hugging your curves just right, and in an instant, his large hands are cupping your face. “You alright?” he asks, and the fury is gone for a moment as he checks you for injuries. As though he truly believes that his brother would hurt you. 

You nod. “I’m fine, I promise. I—”

Michael cuts you off. He pulls you to his side, almost behind himself, glaring at Jimmy. “Why’s she here with ya, huh?” Again, his demeanor changes. “She didn’t do anythin’! Frank put her life in danger, and you still treat her like a fuckin’ intruder?”

“Hold up, Michael. No,” Jimmy says. His shoulders broaden as he takes a step forward. “I didn’t–”

“Yes, ya fuckin’ did,” Michael interrupts him. “If you hurt or threatened her in any way, I swear to God—”

“No!” you raise your voice slightly, only enough to catch his attention. His head whips toward you. “He didn’t ask me here,” you confess. “I came here to talk to him, not the other way around. Jimmy…he didn’t do anything. I’m okay, baby. Please.”

His eyebrows furrow, trying to make sense of your words, and he slumps. He turns to you, his hand on your bicep, and he asks, breathlessly, “You what?”

The emotions in his eyes are a whirlwind that burns through the guilt in your stomach. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I had to.”

“Had to what?”

“Come here. Frank came over, and he gave me the pictures he was planning to use to blackmail me, telling me about how he told his men to back off, but—”

Michael snatches them from Jimmy’s hands, his knuckles white with how hard he is gripping them. 

“I was going crazy,” you say. “I called Scotland Yard, but Inspector Jones put me on his no-call list, so I thought I would write him an email. I was going to use your laptop, but you…you must’ve forgot to close one of the folders, and I accidentally started scrolling, and—”

“Jesus!” He shakes his head. “And you went t’ Jimmy about that?”

“I didn’t have a choice, okay? You said you didn’t want to get involved in anything illegal again, for Anna’s sake, but you lied to me. I don’t blame you. I know I’m not getting out of this, and I don’t want to because you mean the world to me, so I thought I could talk to Jimmy and we could find a compromise. After Frank…I didn’t think there was time to be rational about this. I’m sorry, Michael. I know you told me to sit tight, but I had to.”

“Five hours,” he growls. “You couldn’t wait five hours?”

Jimmy pipes up. “She was curious about Eamon,” he says. “I gave her the answers she was lookin’ for because you wouldn’t.”

Michael’s grip on your arm tightens, and it stings. You try to free yourself, but he won’t let you. 

“Whatever you two discussed,” he snarls, “It’s off the table.”

You glare at him. “What?” 

His fingers dig into your sensitive flesh. “Off the table, pet. You’re not gettin’ involved with this family.”

“What do you mean, I’m not getting involved with this family? I already am!”

“The fuck you are.” He drags you toward the door. 

“Michael,” you choke out, “you’re hurting me.”

You have never seen him like this, and you never would have thought he would grab you like this. 

He loosens his grip, but it’s still not enough to free you from his grasp. “I’m sorry,” his voice is barely above a whisper. 

You scoff. He may be sorry for hurting you, which you know was unintentional because he often underestimates his power, but he isn’t sorry for treating you like a child because he is still pulling you toward the stairs. 

“Michael,” Jimmy stops him. “Maybe we could talk ‘bout this?”

“No. You can get fucked!”

“Jesus,” you snap at him. 

“Home,” Michael tells you. “Now.”

His house isn’t even home to you, but you don’t have a choice. And as you make your way next door again, a feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. A feeling that makes you sick. 

Are you actually scared of him? Meeting his eyes once the door is closed behind you though, you can’t stop imagining your father in front of you, and it makes your heart race up to your throat.

Michael raises his hand to his forehead, the other resting on his hip. “Fuck!” He doesn’t say it to you. He would never. 

He is trying to get rid of his anger to have a normal conversation—to talk this through because he doesn’t understand why you would put yourself at risk like that—but your brain doesn’t function the way it did this morning. To you, he is cursing at nothing but you.  

You see his hand out of the corner of your eye, and you flinch. Your entire body recoils, and the air changes. He seems to realize what he did almost instantly. You hug your arms around yourself, avoiding his eyes, hoping you won’t cry, but the tears are treacherous as they start to pave their way forward. It burns.

“I—I’m sorry,” he says, and his voice is soft again. His hand is gone, but oh, you can’t open yourself up to him again. “My love, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think.” He takes a step forward. 

He didn’t, and he still isn’t thinking, it seems. You take a step back. He is suffocating you. 

“I’m not angry,” he tries again. “I just wanna understand…”

You swallow thickly. “I explained it to you,” the words flow out in a monotone line. 

“Why Jimmy? Why?”

“If I’d asked you, would you have told me the truth?” You meet his eyes, and it hits him like a strike of lightning. “If I’d asked you about the folder, about what the fuck is going on, would you have answered or would you have tried to keep me out of it?” you ask again. 

Michael gnaws at his bottom lip. “I told ya we’d find a way. We’d make a plan,” he says.

He is diverting. He can’t give you the answer you asked of him, and somehow that breaks your heart. It drills a sharp knife through your ribs, causing you to bleed out in front of him. 

“There is no other way,” you argue.

“There is always another way.”

“Not in this case, there isn't.”

“I cannot have you doing dirty work for my family. Fuckin’ Christ!” The whisper turns into a desperate plea, “Why can’t you see that?”

You wipe your cheeks with a furious index finger. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you fucked me.”

“Sorry?” He is taken aback by your tone of voice.

“You made me fall in love with you, knowing that being with you would put me in danger,” you cry. “I’ve always been okay with it, but you have to stop coddling me like I’m a child. I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions.”

“This isn’t fair,” he says. “I’m just tryin’ to keep ya safe.“

“But I’m not the only one who matters.”

“You’re the only one who matters to me!”

The silence that washes over you is charged to the maximum. Michael’s words echo in your mind. 

“I know you love your sister,” he murmurs, “but you promised not to make any rash decisions.”

“I know,” you reply coolly.

“You should’ve waited. You should’ve talked t’me.” Michael shakes his head.

You sniffle. You can’t look at him. “So you own me now, huh?” 

“No, that’s not—”

“You say you want to protect me, to keep me safe, but has it ever crossed your mind, even for a second, that I don’t want to be saved?”

His chest heaves with the breath he inhales. His hands remain on his hips. He fiddles with the fabric of his sweater—he always does it when he’s nervous, or when he’s fuming. You watch his body language and read it like an open book, but there is a distance between you. You thought maybe he would be a little pissed, but this behavior is worse. It tears your soul apart, piece by piece.

Again, he inhales, and he exhales again. “You’re reckless,” he states. Somehow though, he makes it sound like an accusation. 

“So what?” you retort.

“So what? Are you even listening to yerself?”

“Don’t snap at me.”

“I’m not—” he clenches his jaw. “Trust me, if I snapped at ya, it would sound a lot different. I’m just tryin’ to figure you out ‘cause I can’t fuckin’ read ya right now.”

You offer a sarcastic hum. You don’t have to think far to find the words. They are right there on the tip of your tongue. “Maya’s living with a monster who would raise hell if he found out the truth. The same monster who tortured me. The same monster who murdered my sister. Now, I feel like I’m being followed everywhere I go,” you say. “The family of the man I love would rather see me fall than accept me. I can’t go back to London. I can’t go home. I can’t…I can’t even go back to work.”

You sniffle again. “Brewing coffee used to be my life. I was working toward being something more. Someone more. I was writing, I was being creative, and I was somewhat happy. I had a plan, you understand?” With every word out of your mouth, your voice rises to new volumes. “I had a plan to get my revenge eventually and move on, but now...now my life is whatever this shit is, and I hate it. Okay? I hate it.”

You’re not angry; you’re broken, but saying it out loud won’t move mountains, and when the last word passes your lips, still nothing has changed. It won’t change. You can pray, you can beg, and you can scream at the sky in hopes that someone—anyone—will hear you, but it is a losing game. Life is a losing game.

Michael whimpers in the back of his throat. “Don’t,” he begs.

“I hate—” You stare up at the ceiling. The tears taste salty on your tongue. 

“Stop it.”

“I hate it here, Mikey.”

God, he knows that you only call him that when you feel like you have reached a dead end, but this time, he can’t save you; he, himself, has reached a dead end that he can’t escape from, and the ocean between you is far too broad to cross. You sob, and he wants to sob with you. 

“I hate what my life has become,” you cry softly. Your soft cries are the most painful to listen to. “And I hate that loving you hurts so fucking much I can’t breathe.”

This conversation feels oddly familiar. As if you have had it before. As if it is a daily occurrence as your demons fight against each other for dominance.

“I wish I could change that,” Michael whispers back to you. He is so far away, yet you still hear him perfectly.

You shudder. “Make me hate you, you mean?”

“No, not that. Although yes, sometimes.”

“I wish I could hate you sometimes, too,” the admission rolls off your tongue like a bullet from a gun. 

He nods. His eyes never leave your fragile frame, barely holding on by a thread. “I wish I could take it all away from ya,” he says. “The fear, the pain... And I wish it were easier to protect those you love. But I dunno how. And I dunno how t’be…better.”

A better man, he wanted to say. Better for you, better for Anna, and better for anyone else. Michael feels unworthy of your love. He had hope; for a few days, he had hope, but hope never lasts long with him. It always dies because everything he touches eventually withers like a fragile flower. He doesn’t say it though. He doesn’t know how.

You sniffle, shaking your head. “You don’t have to be better. I just need you to understand,” you say.

“I do,” Michael insists. “I do understand.”

“I’m glad you do, but I don’t. I need a chance at ruining the life of the man who caused so much damage I don’t even know what has become of me. I want to ruin his life the same way he ruined mine. I want to put him away for the rest of his miserable life so maybe my mother can get the help she refused to get when I last gave her the chance, and provide my sister with a normal life. That’s what I need.”

But what you need and can have are two different pairs of shoes. 

After a deep breath that lasts several seconds and allows the silence to stretch into a pregnant pause, you find your words again to continue. “The file I have on Ellie’s death is circumstantial, we both know that,” you say. “It won’t be enough. We won’t be enough—” Your voice cracks. “A security detail or killing my father won’t fix this. You telling me you love me won’t fix this. And saying ‘we will figure this out’ while you keep a folder on your family’s dealings that might as well also impact me now that Frank has painted a target on my back from me won’t fix this.”

He says your name in a way that sends an unwelcome shiver down your spine. 

“I just couldn’t wait!” It is unlike you to yell, but you have reached your limit. 

Again, Michael curses, running a hand over his face and through his beard.

You lean back against the wall, defeated beyond relief. “What do you want from me, Michael?” you plead. “Because I feel like no matter what I do, it’s never enough.” 

“C’mon,” he breathes, “I never said that.”

“No, but it certainly feels that way.”

“I don’t want to lose ya, alright? That’s all I’ve got.” He sounds like a broken record. “I…I just found out that I probably have no chance at gettin’ Anna back, even after all I did, and I can’t…I just can’t…” 

The urge to reach out and take him into your arms is overwhelming. Tears glisten in his eyes now, and his body is quivering with agony. He’s holding back. He’s trying not to show you just how scared and in pain he truly is, but he can’t hide the truth from you.

On any other day, you would have crossed the room and hugged him with the promise of never letting him go, but can’t bring yourself up to get any closer because he is not the only one close to falling apart.

“I’m so sorry,” you gasp out.

“I can’t lose you too,” Michael whispers. “If I get involved again with my family—if I choose to fight—that’s another story. I am who I am, and I can’t change that, but yer not; you’re everything to me. And I won’t put the goodness of yer heart at risk. I can’t—”

You silence him with your hand. “I am not Anna.”

“I know, but—”

“I am not Anna,” you repeat. “I can’t replace her. I won’t replace her. I am not a consolation prize, and I am not yours to command.”

Your steps are heavy as you reach for your bag. “No,” he grunts. He reaches for your arm again, but you elude him.

“Don’t touch me.”

You’re not even sure if this can be called fighting. You were arguing until you weren’t. It’s a quiet storm, but it causes the most damage.

The door is calling for you. You can’t stay here. You feel like you’re drowning—like he is taking all the air out of your lungs. You can’t stand here and argue and fight, and you definitely can’t stay and be quiet with him. That hurts a lot more than being yelled at. Silent anger kills, and you’re not sure if you can come back from this. 

How did you get here? When he left this morning, he kissed you. Now, there seem to be a million worlds standing between you, and you can’t find common ground. You’re floating in space, and Michael can’t haul you back, but perhaps that is not the problem. The problem is that you don’t want to be hauled back. 

His hand finds your waist, and he pulls you against him. “You’re not leaving,” he says. The gruff sound of his voice used to be your favorite.

“Let me go,” you murmur.

Michael shakes his head. You suck in a sharp breath when he presses his forehead to yours. He smells of whiskey and rum. Did he have a drink on his way here? Did he drown his sorrows in liquor and God knows what else? You don’t want to think about how miserable he is. You don’t want to think about what could happen. You just don’t want to think at all. 

“Please,” he begs. “Talk t’me.”

For a moment, you bask in the feeling of his skin against yours, but when it starts to hurt, you have to pull back. “I have nothing left to say.”

The arrow hits him straight through the heart. 

“I’m sleeping in my bed tonight.” You throw your bag over your shoulder, and you turn away so he won’t see you cry. “We’re no good for each other right now.”

He scoffs. It is a bitter sound that laces the air like a toxin. “We’ve never been good for each other.” 

You ignore the sting his words leave behind. “Then maybe it’s a good thing I’m leaving,” you say.

The sound of the wall breaking under the weight of his fist is the last thing you hear before you step out into the cold evening air.

Your cheeks are wet with tears, but you don’t look back. You get into your car; you don’t even take another look at the house. You turn on the engine, and you pull out of the parking lot.

Michael’s house and the rest of the Kinsellas disappear behind you, your sobs echoing in the small space of your car. You might have to do this on your own, after all, and with that comes the realization that you might have just lost the love of your life, too. 

The question is just, was it worth it?

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be tagged, too!) @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattkinsella @schneeflocky @harperdoodle @ravenclaw617 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocksstarlight

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella #michael kinsella x f!reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella angst #kin rte #kin amc #kin bbc #reader insert #charlie cox #chaos theory

[delilahcalicocat]

♡~Always Here~♡

{Rating: Is there a circus in town? Cause Holy f*cking sh!t that's alot of fluff!}

{Warnings: Fem!Reader, Falling Asleep on FaceTime, Reader wearing Cody's nightmare factory Hoodie, Crying, Panic}

{Trigger warning: Animal Death}

{Pairing: Cody Rhodes x Fem!reader}

~Summary: Cody was busy on the road, and Y/N was on leave to take care of her sick cat, and she finds herself wanting Cody to be there with her..~

——————————🥑——————————–

[Y/N's POV:]

Cody was out on the road, I was back home because C/N (Cat Name) had fallen ill a few weeks ago, and he wasn't doing so good...

C/N was in his pet bed, napping as he would usually be doing at 11:00pm. I went to wake him up for his medicine, I tapped C/N gently to find him not awakening...

No.. this couldn't be happening- C/N....didn't... die... did he?

I kept tapping the cat, he didn't wake up at all. I panicked heavily..

I FaceTimed Cody, a sobby mess..

"What's Wrong Starlight? What happened back home?" He asked me

"C-C/N is... D-Dead... Cody!" I sobbed out

"Oh... Starlight, I'm sorry.." He spoke

"Can.. I borrow your hoodie for the night?" I asked Cody

"Of course starlight" He Said

I had already put the poor kitten in a temporary coffin until y'know we could have him... cremated ⚱.

So I grabbed his hoodie and put it on, I laid down and kept speaking with Cody.

"So what happened with Finn and JD?" I asked

"So, Finn was cracking jokes to everyone backstage. And JD was drinking a water because he just fought in a match, so Finn made the joke, and JD spat water all over himself" He said

"Haha, that's so funny Codes. So like anything else happen while you were backstage?" I spoke

"Roman Cracked a Smile after Jimmy made a funny picture in his head, and Seth was a cackly mess at the end of the night too" he said

Wow, Cody made me so happy.. I had a contagious smile as right after i smiled he smiled, we kept on talking, we talked for over 2 hours, I found myself on almost the third hour.. Falling asleep, I eventually fell asleep.. and Cody Noticed it.

"Haha, talk to you later Starlight.. hope you have a good night of sleep" He smiled and then hung up

I dropped my phone straight on my chest. I think that's how he realized I was out cold, that or it was my light light snoring

[Dream]

I ran around a sugary, Candy like world.. it was pastel colors and candy everywhere, I wandered into a Licorice forest. It was raspberry flavored licorice, I ran through the forest until I ran into a giant lollipop. The beaches were ice cream and caramel syrup, which seemed weird to me, but okay- I walked onto the Sprinkle Covered Ice Cream Sand. It was softer than I thought..

[Y/N's POV:]

I woke up at like 8:30am, a little later than usual, but it was a Friday so It couldn't hurt to get a little extra sleep, but I woke up to Cody coming in the house...

I'm so happy he's back home now...

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Tag list: {comment if you'd like to be added}

#wwe fanfiction #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #cody rhodes fic #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes #cody rhodes x reader

[longwuzhere]

My Adventures with Superman Season 2 Easter Eggs

Welcome back everyone! Here we are season 2 of My Adventures with Superman! What a fantastic first two episodes and as usual they're full of fun Easter eggs which I will point out and explain to those who aren't familiar so you can be in the know with the comics book readers! My Easter eggs lists for season 1 is here if you haven't seen it!

My season 2 episode 1 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

Spoilers if you haven't seen it

I might be reading too much into it but maybe this is a subtle reference to the Adventures with Superman comic title or it could just be a complimentary episode title to My Adventures with Superman. Who knows.

The episode starts with Waller waking up getting ready for her day (shout out to Waller's daily affirmations btw) and she goes down to meet Sam Lane, Lois's father who I talked about here.

Nice call back to Season 1 Episode 3 when Lois and Clark break into Stryker's Island again and entering into Siobhan McDougal's cell again but this time going under the island's jail to Task Force X secret operations. I talked about Siobhan McDougal aka Silver Banshee and Stryker's Island here.

Later on we see Clark and Lois infiltrating the Task Force X hideout and Clark uses his X-Ray vision but can't seem to see through the walls here. If you know your Superman lore, these walls are made of lead.

Jerry Seigel and Joe Shuster, Superman's creators, first introduced X-Ray vision to Superman in Action Comics #11 (1939) where Clark is investigating some shady dealing involving oil and the death of someone involved in this deal. It wasn't until later in Action Comics #69 nice (1944) [W: Jerry Seigel, P&I: Ed Dobrotka] that we see there is a limit to Clark's X-Ray vision.

Superman rescues Lois from the Prankster and his henchmen after surveying the area with his X-Ray vision and seeing that one of the buildings is made of lead and can't see inside it and he goes in to save her.

Later as Sam, Lois and Superman escape the compound Waller sics one of her soldiers after them, a green skull-faced, radioactive soldier aka Atomic Skull.

MAwS Waller calls Atomic Skull as Agent Martin, so we can assume this is a reference to Joseph Martin, the second Atomic Skull who first appeared in Adventures of Superman #383 (1991) [W: Jerry Ordway, P: Jim Fern, I: Doug Hazelwood, C: Glenn Whitmore, L: Albert DeGuzman]. In the comics Joseph Martin was a student. Later in Action Comics #670 (1991) Joseph, at a S.T.A.R. Labs for a check up, gets struck by a grounding cable and that triggers his Metagenes as the building collapsed. He was able to escape but stumbles back to his apartment and begins to lose his hair. Trying to figure out what is wrong Joseph gets jumped by some muggers and Joseph murders them and walks into the theater that is playing an Atomic Skull movie (yes in the post-Crisis on Infinite Earths continuity Atomic Skull is a movie character). Superman investigating the muggers murder discovers Joseph Martin at the movies and sees that he has changed and takes up the name the Atomic Skull as seen below in Action Comics #670 (1991) [W: Roger Stern, P: Bob McLeod, I: Denis Rodier, C: Glenn Whitmore, L: Bill Oakley].

The original Atomic Skull, Albert Michaels, first appeared in Superman #303 (1976) as a piece-of-shit but smart AF scientist for S.T.A.R. Labs. Twenty issues later in Superman #323 (1978) [Cover art by Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez] , Albert Michaels dons the Atomic Skull costume after siding with SKULL and is given a radium implant in his brain that would grant him the ability to harness bioelectricity from his cranium and convert it to energy to shoot out from his visor.

Back at the Daily Planet, Jimmy is called out by Perry for not giving him a video and we see that the Flamebird team is composed of the Newkid Legion and Steve Lombard. I talked more about them here and here.

We get one Wilhelm scream as as Task Force X soldier gets carried back into the dark hallway by Parasite/Ivo who I talked more about here.

And finally after stopping Parasite from attack Waller, Lex Luthor shows up finally giving his name to Waller striking up a new partnership.

Lex Luthor first appeared in Action Comics #23 (1940) [W: Jerry Seigel, P: Joe Shuster, I: Paul Cassidy] where he was exploiting European countries in WWII. This iteration of Lex goes by Alexei Luthor. Still smart like his other Lex Luthor counterparts with a knack for machinery technology. He apparently dies in his debut issue.

In Action Comics #125 (1948) [P&I: Al Plastino] we see the debut of silver age Lex Luthor . In the comic Alexis Luthor here, uses his scientific genius to manipulate a hermit who's making prediction come true. This Lex Luthor has beef with Superboy back when he and Clark were kids. He swore revenge on Superboy for ruining his research after a fire broke out at his laboratory causing his hair to fall out thanks to the chemical fumes. This iteration of Lex is the one who creates the famous warsuit that Lex Luthor is usually depicted in.

Post-Crisis on Infinite Earths Lex Luthor makes his first appearance in Swamp Thing #52 (1986) [W: Alan Moore, P: Rick Veitch, I: Alfredo Alcala, C: Tatjana Wood, L: John Costanza]. This version of Lex is the scientist and business man that pop culture knows and he goes by Alexander Luthor. His origins is rewritten so that instead of Lex being from Smallville and having met Superboy back then, he meets Superman in Metropolis where he created Lexcorp and almost everyone is under his employ whether they know it or not (see the Man of Steel miniseries from 1986). In that miniseries, he also has the red hair and eventually he goes bald. This version of Lex was also a former President of the United States.

Post-New52/DC Rebirth, because of some comic book shenanigans and retcons, some of Lex's origins pre-New 52 blends in this this current continuity now where Lex Luthor joined the Justice League as shown on the cover of Justice League #30 (2014) [Cover art by Ivan Reis, Joe Prado, and Rod Reis], was Superman when New 52 Superman died as shown in the variant cover of Action Comics #967 (2017) [Cover art by Gary Frank and Brad Simpsons], and started the Legion of Doom seen on the cover of Justice League #5 (2018) [Cover art by Doug Mahnke, Jaime Mendoza, and Wil Quintana].

And with that episode 2 is done! Come back next week for episode 3's references and Easter eggs! My Easter eggs lists for season 1 is here if you haven't seen it!

My season 2 episode 1 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

#my adventures with superman #maws #my adventures with superman season 2 #maws season 2 #Superman #Clark Kent #Lois Lane #Jimmy Olsen #Atomic Skull #Joseph Martin #Lex Luthor #Alexander Luthor #Alex Luthor #Alexis Luthor #Alexei Luthor #x ray vision #Action Comics #Adventures of Superman #Justice League #Swamp Thing #DC #DC Comics #DC Universe #MAwS references #MAwS Easter Eggs #My Adventures with Superman References #My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs