#listen.. a week ago i was like ‘i just don’t have the drive to play the game’ welp

[sonicblooms]

i’m actually wholeheartedly enjoying playing ts4 atm?? 😵🫢

#listen.. a week ago i was like ‘i just don’t have the drive to play the game’ welp #i think it’s bc i’m trying new things #like joanna is a vet and i’ve never tried owning a clinic before so it’s v new and fun to me #kinda scared it’ll get v repetitive but alas #magnus is a freelance crafter and want him to be a jack of all trades alongside that #jude is mean which is a trait i don’t usually pick #and i wanna dl more mods for kids bc idk what to do w lil fleur 😭 #anyway! having fun :))) #delete later #WAIT.. i forgot to mention how i left joanna’s clinic open for 27 HOURS #i swear i clicked close!!!

[prettyfastcars]

triggered | Mob!Lando

Summary: The two of you had broken up just weeks ago, and it was mainly his fault. But no matter how hard he tried to win you back, you never gave him the opportunity to. Lando hadn’t heard from you or seen you at all in those weeks. And when he did finally catch a glimpse of you, it almost made his heart stop. He hoped he’d find you at a club, or walking down the city streets. He didn’t expect to find a suggestive photograph of you on another man’s phone. And that triggered his anger and jealousy in a way that nothing ever had before. 

Themes: exes-to-lovers, jealous!lando, smut, cam girl!reader, lowkey toxic ex!lando, degrading kink, brief aftercare, mild gun play, mild daddy kink

All he saw was pure red. 

Earlier this evening, Lando walked into one of the clubs he owned in this city to hopefully drink enough to forget all about the torturous day he’d had. It seemed like ever since the two of you broke up, he had only been having bad days. Mainly because half the time he was busy thinking about you and his brain wasn’t functioning well. 

So tonight, after a long day and the longest week ever, he just wanted some drinks and some peace. But of course, life had to torture him some more. 

Lando was lounging in one of the couches in the VIP area, constantly having to turn down all the girls who wanted his attention. He barely even saw their faces, they all seemed blurry and since they weren’t you, he didn’t care. So there he was, chilling when he heard a group of men nearby, over on the next couch, laughing and ‘ooh’ ing while looking down at one of their friends’ phone. 

As much as he wanted to have them kicked out for their loud, annoying voices, he couldn’t because they were some of the regulars. The group was here almost every weekend. And part of him was also curious to know what had their attention like that. So he listened intently as the guys proceeded to make vulgar comments on pictures that a woman sent one of them apparently. The club was loud, but he was close enough to be able to hear part of their conversation. 

“So did you like, ask for this?” One of them asked.

Then the one on whose phone the video was sent, he assumed, answered, “She’s like a cam girl who also does like a private chat thing if you send her enough money. So I requested pictures and she sent these.” 

The men laughed, slapping the guy who received the video on the back like he was a hero. 

Another asked, “So what’s her name?” 

“I don’t know. She always wears hot bunny costumes and she...” 

The rest of what he said did even register in Lando’s brain. He totally froze on the couch for a second there. 

Bunny costumes? Surely not… 

Lando knew of your past as a cam girl. You used to be quite a successful one too. But you stopped when you and Lando started dating about a year ago. Not because he wanted you to, but because you didn’t need the extra money anymore since Lando spoiled you rotten. 

His heart raced faster than the cars he liked to drive when he realised how many bunny costumes you owned. It was your go to Halloween costume each year. Plus during your cam girl days, you were known for them. 

It can’t be you, right? You wouldn’t… right? Not when he couldn’t even breathe right whenever he thought about how you had ‘broken up’ with him. 

He felt hot and cold at the same time, and something, like a twisted gut feeling told him something wasn’t right. So Lando quietly signalled one of his guards over and asked him to bring him that phone that was currently being passed around within that group of men, and also asked him to kick that whole group out. 

Within a minute or two, the group was gone and that damn phone was in his hand. And Lando lost it for a moment. All he saw was red, his heartbeats echoed in his ears, his hands shook. He had never felt this level of rage before. 

On the screen was a picture of a woman, scantily dressed. Black fishnets, black bodysuit, black bunny ears, black high knee socks. He tightened his grip around the phone so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if the screen cracked. The woman’s face was turned away, but Lando would recognise that body anywhere. A body he had touched, tasted, fucked too many times to count. 

It was you. And the red neon sign behind you only served as more proof that this picture was taken in your bedroom. A bedroom he was in just weeks ago, arguing with you before you two broke up. 

He was breathing heavily as if he’d run a marathon. He checked the date and time of the picture and turned out you had sent it that evening itself, and that only fueled whatever murderous rage had taken over him. 

Lando pocketed the stranger’s phone, and pulled out his own and called you. Of course you didn’t pick up and that only pissed him off even more. 

Within the next minute, Lando was out of the club, in his car and speeding towards your penthouse. He could barely think straight. He could barely function, it was a miracle he was still able to drive properly. 

His heart raced as he surpassed the speed limit like the law meant nothing to him. It rarely ever did but right now, all he cared about was finding you and fuck, he didn’t even know what the fuck to say to you. But he would remind you that you still belonged to him. 

He knew it would only piss him off even more but he pulled out that guy’s phone again, and with a few taps he found that damn picture again. He kept an eye on the mostly empty road as he swiped left and right to see if there were more pictures. 

There were a couple more. Same outfit, different angles. Always with your face hidden. Lando nearly threw the phone out the window but he knew he’d need it when he would confront you. So he tossed the phone aside, and punched his steering wheel instead. He hoped the pain would maybe take his focus away from the rage he felt, but he barely even felt the punch. 

He was shaking by the time he reached your penthouse. His entire being focused on only getting to your floor and knocking on your door. He barely even remembered if he had parked his car in the right spot. 

He took deep breaths in the elevator, trying to talk himself out of breaking down your front door the moment he got to it. It was late at night, so even if he did break down the door your neighbours would surely hear it and come investigate. 

And for what he had planned for you, he didn’t want an audience. Fuck, he was barely able to think straight after finding a picture of you in another man’s phone. He was certain he would commit heinous crimes if ever someone saw you half naked like that in real life. 

He banged loudly on your door. He could hear nothing but silence on the other end. But he knew you’d be home. Since less than an hour ago you sent pictures to a random man. 

He called out. “Open up, babygirl.” Lando growled, banging both of his fists onto the wooden door. The sound was loud enough that he could hear it echoing inside the spacious penthouse. He waited to hear something, and he did. Some kind of movement from the other side of the door, but the door remained locked. He yelled louder, “I will break down this door if I have to, baby. Is that what you want? Want me to cause a scene?” 

Apparently you didn’t because the moment those words left his mouth, he heard a familiar click. The door unlocked, but remained shut. He would’ve smirked and felt triumphant if it wasn’t for the fiery anger inside him which tried to claw its way out. 

Lando opened the door, rushed inside and slammed it shut behind him. At that point, he didn’t care who heard the commotion he caused. The moment his eyes met yours, he stopped giving a fuck about anything else. 

You stood near the entrance. Back against the wall like it would protect you from him. And what pissed him off even more was that you were still wearing that damn costume, minus the bunny ears, from the picture. Something in him snapped as he nearly pounced on you like an actual predator in the wild.  

Grabbing you by the neck, he pinned you to the wall. Ignoring your pleas, he pulled out that guy’s phone, found that damn picture and shoved it in your face. 

“Care to explain what the fuck this is?!” He snarled, squeezing your throat just a little. 

You didn’t have to look at the screen to know what he had found. You didn’t know what kind of twisted invisible string this was, that even after breaking up brought Lando back into your life. Like this no less. You’d been ignoring him for weeks, but somehow he found his way to you now. 

“That is none of your business.” You said, causing him to tighten his grip around your neck. Still, you whispered, “What I do is none of your problems anymore. We’re–” 

Lando cut you off by throwing the phone to the ground with enough force that it broke and bounced off the floor and hit the front door. Then he leaned closer to you, his eyes quickly scanning your barely dressed body. 

Your body reacted the same way it did back when you were together. All Lando ever had to do was give you those bedroom eyes and you’d be dragging him to bed no matter the time of day. 

His other hand reached into his pocket and he pulled out the shiny gun he always carried. It had his name engraved on it and everything. He used to let you play with back when–

Your thoughts came to an immediate halt when he carefully pressed the cold barrel of the gun to your parted lips, his eyes staring into yours. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared of him at that moment. After all, he hadn’t earned the reputation he had for nothing. 

“Keep talking, come on.” He whispered, dangerously calm now. “Tell me more about how you’re not my problem anymore.” 

He scoffed when you shivered, trailing the barrel of the gun down your body. Leaving your lips, down your chin, down in between your breasts. The almost see-through bodysuit didn’t leave much to the imagination and it both pissed him off and turned him on. He dragged the gun across your stomach, and further down until he pressed the barrel in between your legs, making you whimper like an actual bunny. 

He rubbed it in between your legs briefly before dragging it back up your body. “You wanted to be a slutty, little bunny so bad, didn’t you?” He cooed in that voice that sent shivers all over your body. “Go on then, run and hide. Hide as best you can.” He tapped the barrel of the gun on your lower lip a couple of times before saying, “And when I find you, I will remind you exactly who you belong to.” 

With that he pulled away, took a few steps back and gave you room to run. It was cruel, whatever game he was playing. But it was messing with your head, turning you on. 

Seeing you weren’t moving, he added, “I’ll count till ten. Better get moving, little bunny.” 

You ran, hearing him count in the background as your heart raced. The penthouse was spacious, with many nooks and corners to hide in. Like the wine cellar for instance. But Lando knew each and everyone of those hiding spots. He was the one who gifted you the penthouse after all. Besides, no matter how well you hid he would end up finding you anyway. 

Still, you ran deep into your walk-in closet and hid behind your thich coats. Crouched down in a corner, you waited to hear if he was coming. His voice reached you before he did. 

“I’m coming to find you.” Followed by a deep, scary chuckle. “And when I do, I show you exactly what happens to bad little bunnies who misbehave.” 

Time felt like it went by in slow motion as you listened intently for his footsteps. You heard it approaching. Then you heard your bedroom door opening and shutting. 

“You’re so predictable,” He sounded disappointed. Yet his voice made you clench your thighs together all the same. 

And you were too busy trying to process how your body was reacting to the fear, the sound of his voice, the anticipation of what was to come, that you didn’t hear him enter the closet. 

“I know you’re in here,” He called out in a voice that was so calm it made your heart pound even harder. “I can hear you trembling behind those coats, babygirl.” 

Shit. 

You barely processed it all when his hand reached in and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you out of your pathetic hiding spot. 

“Lando, please–,” 

He cut you off by glaring at you and said, “On your knees.” 

You quickly sank down to your knees in front of him, looking up to find a wild hunger in those pretty eyes of his. 

He spoke up again. “Now come on, we both know what that pretty mouth is good at. Show me.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck. “You wanted so desperately to be a little slut, right? Sending pictures to random men, huh? Come on then, make it good for me like a slut would.” 

His words put you under a spell. Your hands reached up to undo his belt, unzip his trousers and lower his underwear to free his erected cock. 

“Come on, little bunny.” He hissed, watching you as you wrapped your hands around his cock and placed your mouth on him, your tongue slowly circling his tip. 

Lando pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “Take all of me. This is all you’re good for, isn’t it bunny?” He threw his head back and let out a strained moan. “All you’re good for is sucking daddy’s cock…” 

You kept your eyes on his handsome face as you sucked on his cock. Lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked every bit the powerful man he was. He groaned as he took over, pushing deeper into your mouth, fucking it like he owned it. 

“This is all you needed, isn’t it you little brat?” He taunted, as you gagged a little, taking him perfectly. “You wanted attention that bad, huh?” He hissed, fucking your mouth harder until your jaws hurt. “Isn’t that why you broke up with me? Because according to you I didn’t give you enough attention?” He thought back to that night you two ‘broke up’. 

That menacing tone of his made you squirm and it only added to the dampness which was forming in between your legs. 

He quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of your mouth. “All the trips, the cars, the penthouse, that beach house you threw a bratty fit for, all the shit I bought you. None of it was enough for your attention-seeking, bratty self, was it? Hmm?” When you didn’t respond, you earned yourself a smack on your cheek. “You still had to go look for more from another man, is that it?” 

You glared at him upon hearing the insinuation in his words. 

“Did you think anyone else could treat you like I do? Did you think another man would spoil you like I do?” His stare intensified when you dragged your tongue lazily over the slit on his tip, tasting some of his come and moaning as you did. Smirking, and just to push your buttons he asked, “Did you suck him off like this too?” 

That did it. You pulled away, snarling at him, “Fuck you!” 

You stood up fast, shoving at his chest. But he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, his eyes focusing on your swollen lips. “So you cheat, and then you have the audacity to–,” 

You cut him off by raising your voice and saying firmly, “I didn’t cheat! We broke up, remember?” 

“And you are mine!” He hissed. “Remember that?” 

Before you answered, his mouth was on yours. His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Lando pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldn’t close your mouth. Glaring at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again. 

It was hot. And messy. And you were too lost in him to think straight, so much that you didn’t realise he was dragging you towards your bed until he pushed you down on it. 

Then he pointed at the red neon sign above your bed with a lethal look in his eyes. “This is where you took the picture, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “Like a needy little slut.” 

You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function. 

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. “Was it for money?” He taunted, knowing full well he’d put enough money in your account for it to last a lifetime. 

All you did was whimper as he crawled on top of you, looking down at you like he couldn’t decide what to do with you. He knelt in between your legs, his hands toyed with the thin material of your body suit, his fingers tracing the outline of it along your inner thighs, then he abruptly tore it, the fabric giving in to his strong hands. 

His fingers tore at the fishnets as well, now exposing your wet folds to his dangerous stare. He touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. 

“You’re not gonna show off this body from now on, you hear me?” 

“Now you have a problem with it?” You couldn’t help but scoff. “Isn’t that how we met?” 

That earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him. 

“Yeah we did. And now you’re mine so no one gets to see you like–,” 

“But we broke up.” 

Lando hated being cut off. But what he hated more than that was when you argued over stupid shit like this. “Say that bullshit again. I dare you.” 

You gulped at the sound of his voice. Cold, bitter, threatening. He was getting on your nerves, and perhaps that’s why you whispered sassily, “We broke up.” 

And that did it. His hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare. 

You could cry that’s how badly you needed him inside you. Lando wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you crying out loud. 

He held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right. He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “We broke up, huh? You think we’re done, babygirl? Is that why your pussy is strangling my cock?”

You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. 

“Is this what you wanted, little bunny?” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “Is this enough attention, baby?” 

You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. He couldn’t even bother to get you properly undressed, but something about being so dishevelled as he fucked you, fishnets torn, bodysuit in tatters, it only made it hotter. 

His slight stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body was familiar, tight and hot.

Lando looked at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “See?” He whispered, “You’re all mine again. Only mine.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. 

His hand squeezed your throat, making you moan even louder. “My dirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.” He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. “Are you gonna be good from now on? When you want something, you open that slutty little mouth and ask me for it, you understand? Be it attention, money, or some cock to fill you up.” He growled. “You come to me!” 

You whimpered, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. Fuck, you had missed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Are you gonna be good from now on?” He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “You’re mine, and you’re damn lucky that guy didn’t touch you otherwise I would’ve fucking killed him.” He spoke in a fit of rage again, fueled by his lust. 

“Please…” You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad, you could feel your eyes tearing up. Your thoughts were a mess. 

Lando leaned in to kiss your exposed shoulder while he fucked you. “Answer me first.” He whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Are you going to fucking behave or not?” 

“I will!” You squealed when he bit down on your shoulder. 

“Good girl.” 

And you couldn’t hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier. 

Lando kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. “That’s it, babygirl. Come for me.” 

You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your thighs. 

—

You didn’t remember when he cleaned you up and changed you into your favourite onesie before getting in bed with you. All you remember is waking up at some point during the night, cuddled up with him, safe and warm in his arms. 

Lando was awake still, his fingers lazily tracing shapes over your back. You cleared your throat awkwardly and waited for him to say something. 

“Why'd you do it?” He asked. 

You were silent for a moment. Then answered, “I thought it was time I move on and earn my own money.” 

“Your own money.” Lando scoffed. “You have money.” 

“It's yours. I'm not gonna use your money when I'm not with you.” A pause. “I've started looking for an apartment, I'll move–,”

He cut you off by twisting his body, and yours, so you laid on your sides facing each other. Even in the dark you could feel the intensity of his stare. He grabbed your chin roughly and spoke in that low, menacing voice. “You are gonna stop with this nonsense.” 

“But–” 

“Shut the fuck up, baby. Don't piss me off.” 

You frowned but kept quiet for a few moments. Having him be this close to you reminded you of how addicting he could be. His handsome face. His pretty eyes. His touch. The way he couldn’t help but order you around. He was infuriating. But he made your heart flutter. 

“So,” You mumbled, “Now what?” 

Lando let go of your chin and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. He ignored your question, and instead asked, “Are you in pain?” 

You quickly assessed your body and replied, “Just a little sore. That bite on my shoulder hurts though. It's gonna leave behind a mark.” You wrapped an arm around his lean waist too. 

“Good.” He said arrogantly. “It'll remind you that you belong to me.”

#lando norris x reader #mob!lando #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando norris smut #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

[greynatomy]

fringe

leah williamson x reader

thought of this while driving and finished in like two minutes

———

Last week, Leah came home with a different look than when she left in the morning. No heads up, she walks through the front door, a fringe on her head.

Your daughter was fascinated from the moment she saw her mom. When Leah sat on the couch, Bella sat on her lap, hands playing with the fringe. It was a daily thing for your daughter to want to play with her hair.

Today, you have so many errands to run, so Leah was with your daughter by herself. The four-year-old almost threw a tantrum, but with the promise of ice cream, she hesitantly gave you a kiss goodbye.

“Alright. What do you feel like doing?”

Bella strokes her chin in thought. “Watch Tangled.”

“Tangled it is.”

Halfway through the movie, Leah had to go to her office for a meeting with some people leaving Bella all alone. Leah told her to not go anywhere, but the cheeky little thing she is, didn’t listen.

An hour later, Leah finishes what she needed to do for the day and decides to start preparing for lunch. By prepare, she means heating up what you had already made for them.

“Bella, darling? It’s time for lunch.”

She was met with silence, which is worrying because silence is something you don’t want to be greeted with when at home with a toddler.

“Bella! Where’d you go?”

“Bathroom, Mama!”

Walking into the bathroom, Leah was greeted by a haunting sight. Bella stood up on her step stool, a pair of scissors in her hand she found god knows where and a head with less hair than what she had just an hour ago.

“Darling! What’d you do?”

“Want to be like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yeah! Mama your hair. Be like you!”

She had a proud look on her face and Leah didn’t have the heart to tell her off. As adorable as it was, Leah was just scared of how you’d react once you’d gotten home.

“Okay. Why don’t we put those scissors down and wait for Mama in the living room.”

Leah quickly cleans up all the hair, making sure there’s no trace of what happened. She doesn’t mention it while they eat lunch. Bella frequently brushes the hair out of her face. Leah couldn’t stop looking at her daughter’s hair, seeing all the uneven hair, making her cringe internally.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that you get back home. You find your wife and daughter on the couch, matching Arsenal hoodies on with the hood over their heads.

“Hello, family.”

“Mummy! You’re home!”

“I am, baby. What did you do today?”

“Uh, I watch Tangled with Mama, I eat pasgetti, and I be like Mama!”

You nod along, but look at your wife confusedly at the last part.

“What do you mean by be like Mama?”

Before Leah could stop her, Bella takes the hood off her head. You let out a loud gasp, covering your mouth with your hand, eyes wide.

“Baby.”

“Did all by myself.” She pats her chest.

“So pretty.” You run your fingers through her hair, biting your lip to hold back a laugh. “Go back to your movie. Mummy needs to have a word with Mama in the kitchen.”

You walk into the kitchen with Leah trailing behind.

“How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know! I was in my office for an hour and I go to the bathroom and her hair’s gone!”

You let out some giggles, unable to hold it in anymore, especially with the distressed look on your wife’s face.

“You’re gonna grow some grey hairs and get wrinkles.”

You run your hands through her hair, placing kisses on her forehead, smoothening the crinkles on her forehead.

“It’s just hair. It’ll grow back.”

“I just can’t believe she did that.”

“Daughter like mother. You come home with a fringe without telling me. Bella does the same without telling you.”

She starts laughing, looking at where your daughter sat on the couch, arms wrapped around your waist.

“She really is my mini me.”

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader

[mellifiedprincess]

GOT MY FIRST MATT REQUEST😝 this is angsty to fluff, so be warned. i got kind of carried away and don’t have anyone to proofread my writing so sorry if this actually sucks ass.

“I’m gonna be working 16 hours again today, so I won’t be home until late.” You can feel the annoyance from your boyfriend before you even turn around. Matt absolutely hated when you worked long shifts like that, but he also knew you loved your job as a peds nurse. Still. He hated the hours. He hated how tired you were after work, all because you would pick up everyone else’s slack.

“Again? Baby-“ He stops himself, watching you pull the baby pink scrub top over your head. You can only laugh softly at his expression. “That’s the 3rd one this week.”

“I know, but I Lisa asked me to cover part of her shift. She’s always been super nice to me.”

That was one of the things Matt loved and hated about you, you were too nice. Always doing for others, never for yourself. And he worried you were gonna burn out.

He places his hands on your cheeks, placing a kiss to your slightly squished lips. “You’ve barely slept baby. You haven’t had anything to eat. You’re barely a person right now.”

“Matt, please don’t do this right now. I’m gonna be late.” You watch as he rolls his eyes, stepping away from you as you gather the rest of your things. “I know you’re just worried about me, but don’t be. I’m fine!”

“Just please text me and let me know you made it to the hospital okay, and let me know when you’re on the way home. Just so I know you didn’t fall asleep at the wheel.” He reaches out for you, and you greedily fall into his embrace. “I will. I love you, okay.” You place a soft kiss to his lips and smile sweetly. “I love you more baby.”

And with that you leave.

You kept your word of texting Matt and letting him know you made it to the hospital safely. Even sending him a cute little selfie of you blowing him a kiss.

But when he saw it was almost 45 minutes past the time you should have been home, he felt a pit of anxiety form in his stomach.

He immediately ended the game of fortnite he was playing, and grabbed his phone wasting no time in calling you.

No answer.

So he tried again. And again. And again.

No answer. So he calls the floor of the hospital you work on. Only for the nurse on the phone tell him, you left almost an hour ago.

Kid was shitting bricks he was so scared.

“Nick!” At the sound of Matt’s terrified voice, the older brother of the triplets rushes into his room. “What?” Nick asks as he watches a frantic Matt put his shoes on. “I need you and Chris to take the other car and help me look for Y/N.” This only confuses Nick more.

“Isn’t she at work? And we can’t drive without our-“ “She’s not answering her phone. She left work almost an hour ago. She should have been back by now!” Matt cuts Nick off, trying his best not to break down.

Next to his brothers, you were the most important person in Matt’s life. The thought of anything happening to you made his want to throw up.

“You need to breathe before you pass out. Y/N is fine Matt, she’s gonna be okay.” Nick rubs comforting circles on his back, trying his best to calm his younger brother down.

“Maybe she fell asleep in the parking lot.”

You were not in the hospital parking lot when Matt arrived, only making his anxiety worse. “She’s not here!” He tells his brothers who are on the phone with him as they drive around the city in search of you.

“Chris is gonna take me back home, in case she shows up, but he’s gonna keep looking.”

Matt was barely listening anymore, because as he turned to get back on the highway he sees your car. And when he looks closer, he sees you in it. Asleep.

“I just found her and I’m going to kill her, right after I tell her how much I love her.” “Is she okay?” Chris asks.

“She fell asleep in her car. She’s fine.” Matt hangs up after that. He was relieved to say the least, but so furious with your stupidity.

As he gets out of his car and walks up to your window, he allows himself to take a minute to actually breathe.

You’re startled out of your sleep to a tap on your window, looking up you meet the eyes of your very angry looking boyfriend.

As soon as you unlock the door, he’s pulling it open and unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’m so sorry-“ He cuts you off by pulling you into his chest, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart against yours.

“Do you have any idea how fucking worried we were?” You begin to gnaw at the inside of your cheek, the feeling of guilt all consuming your body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize I was falling asleep.”

“I need you to realize how stupid and dangerous that was. We’re not in Maine or Utah, baby. We’re in LA. You know from working in a hospital how dangerous it is here.” He knows he should be a little more cautious with his words, but fuck he was scared.

“I’m sorry. I closed my eyes for two seconds! I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Matt stops himself from berating you anymore, knowing you probably feel guilty enough. “Just- go get in the car. I’ll grab your things.” “I can’t leave my car here-“ You don’t even finish your sentence at the look Matt gives you.

You get in the passenger seat of his car and watch as he grabs your things, and double checks that your car is locked, before settling in the drivers seat.

“I need you to really listen to me when I say this.” You turn in your seat to face him, his hand reaching for yours. To comfort you or himself, he’s not too sure at this point.

“The next time you even think there’s a possibility of you falling asleep like that, I’m talking you yawn for 2 seconds longer than usual, you better call me. I don’t care what time it is. I love you and you scared the hell out of me tonight.”

“I’m sorry, Matty. I love you and promise I’ll never do anything like that again.” He smiles softly, and places a delicate kiss to your palm.

Now that you’ve faced the repercussions of Matt, you spent the drive home preparing yourself for the inevitable lecture to come from the one and only Nicolas Sturniolo.

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader

[sugawarassoulmate]

we've been doin' all this late night talkin'

you flounder in the living room for a second, taking a glance at how the storm doesn’t seem to be letting up at all. akaashi notices this, and the time. it’s past midnight and he’s certain the trains aren’t running anymore. he can’t let a young girl like you venture out into the night all by herself, but a drive back to your place in this weather isn’t ideal and he can’t leave his daughter alone.

“i should probably—”

“just spend the night,” akaashi interrupts. he knows you at this point, you’re much too nice to ask for a cab ride home and you’d probably rather trek through the rain than ever be a bother to anyone. “don’t argue with me on this one, i’m not letting you go out in this storm.” that’s all it takes to shut you up, nodding without another word. you’re such a good girl for always listening to him.

paring: dilf!akaashi x babysitter!reader

words: 2.9k

cw: fem!reader, age gap (reader is in their 20s/Akaashi in his 40s), alcohol, dubious consent, slight manipulation, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, minors dni

disclaimer: on this blog, we discuss and explore toxic relationships/situations/just because i write about these themes does not mean i condone/support these types of relationships nor do i do them in my own personal life.

these are fictional characters in fictional scenarios and nobody should be taking real-life advice or mirror the actions of the characters in these stories!

He laughed after hearing the small noise you made when he opened the door, entering the dimmed living room. You were curled up on the couch, a movie playing quietly on the TV. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, shaking the rain from his umbrella as he removes his shoes.

As always, you were quick to apologize, a trait Akaashi always found charming. “Oh, not it’s fine. I probably shouldn’t have been watching scary movies so late at night,” you mumbled, sitting up to put the film on pause. “Kisa knocked out hours ago, by the way. I managed to convince her to remove the facepaint but she insisted on sleeping in her costume so you’ll have a witch in her bed tomorrow morning.”

Akaashi wasn’t surprised. Even at five years old, Kisa was incredibly stubborn, getting into debates (Akaashi didn’t like to call them arguments) with her father over every little thing—not wanting to eat her broccoli or refusing to wear the new sweater Akaashi bought. You, on the other hand, were the Kisa Whisperer, able to get her to compromise and not act so hot-headed.

It was a blessing when you answered his ad for a babysitter. With his job taking so much of his time, and the messy divorce with his soon-to-be-ex, having the extra help means the world to him.

It also doesn’t hurt that you were so pretty. A sweet, obedient college student with such good manners. It took Akaashi weeks to get you to stop calling him “sir,” despite how much he loved how the word came out of your soft lips. “Just call me Keiji, you don’t have to be so formal with me, sweetie.”

Akaashi places his briefcase on the dining table and sighs. “I apologize for coming home so late, I just couldn’t get out of the office, and then the storm caused traffic on the way back. I hope you girls didn’t get caught in it while trick-or-treating?”

“Oh, not at all. I was keeping a close eye on the clouds the entire time. We made it home just fine.” your voice soothes Akaashi’s nerves as he hears you getting up from the couch. “And I don’t mind. Kisa’s such a great kid, I love spending time with her. I took a bunch of photos too, I’ll send them tomorrow.”

You flounder in the living room for a second, taking a glance at how the storm doesn’t seem to be letting up at all. Akaashi notices this, and the time. It’s past midnight and he’s certain the trains aren’t running anymore. He can’t let a young girl like you venture out into the night all by herself, but a drive back to your place in this weather isn’t ideal and he can’t leave Kisa alone.

“I should probably—”

“Just spend the night,” Akaashi interrupts. He knows you at this point, you’re much too nice to ask for a cab ride home and you’d probably rather trek through the rain than ever be a bother to anyone. “Don’t argue with me on this one, I’m not letting you go out in this storm.”

That’s all it takes to shut you up, nodding without another word. You’re such a good girl for always listening to him. He reminds you that extra sheets and pillows are in the hall closet and he has some of his ex’s pajamas upstairs that you could borrow. He has no issue taking you home after he drops Kisa off at daycare. 

After he assured you that it wasn’t a problem, Akaashi could see that you were finally starting to calm down. He suggested finishing the movie you were watching before going to bed, he needed to unwind a little bit himself. Before settling on the couch, he grabs a bottle of wine from the kitchen and two glasses and places them on the coffee table. 

“I know you’re gonna want to fight me, but you’re off the clock, sweetie,” Akaashi says, putting an end to any protest you’re about to give him. “I’m not your boss right now.” He pours a glass for each of you and hands one over.

He may be old but he can tell when he’s got a woman flustered and it’s written all over your face. So cute. You hold out your glass. “Cheers?” Behave, Keiji, he thinks as both of you clink your glasses.

It turns out horror movies haven’t gotten much better in the past couple of years. Still relying on overdramatic acting and cheesy jump scares, but he figures it can’t be all that bad if it scares pretty girls like you into scooting a bit closer to him. “Did you finish your drink already, sweetheart?” You look over at your empty glass, slightly embarrassed for drinking it so quickly. “It’s okay. Here, have some more.”

You’re more receptive this time, eagerly holding your glass so he can pour more wine. He always took you for a lightweight but seeing it in person was a sight to behold. “Sorry about making you work on Halloween. I’m sure you would’ve rather gone to a party or something,” Akaashi says, taking a sip of his own drink.

“Ahhh, it’s okay,” you giggled, curling up underneath the blanket Akaashi had on the couch. “There’s always gonna be another party.”

“Oh, do you go often?” he asks, chuckling at your quirked eyebrows. “Hey, I was your age too.”

“I find that hard to believe,” you tease, taking another swig—Akaashi’s certain he’s gonna have to refill your cup once again. “I go sometimes…if class gets a bit crazy, it’s nice not to think about work.”

Akaashi’s eyes flick over to the television screen, the dumb sorority girl in the movie starts flirting with the nerd boy character. There’s another thing he remembers about these stupid movies, a cheesy sex scene. A cardinal sin, their days are definitely numbered. But he wonders if their inevitable death will scare you enough that you’ll move even closer. At this point, you’re practically in his lap although it doesn’t seem like you’re aware of it. Are you this oblivious around other people? 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks without thinking, grabbing the wine bottle to refill your glass. He’s shocked and relieved when you shake your head no. “Come on, a pretty girl like you? I would think you’d have to fight these college boys off with a stick.”

Akaashi’s hand touches your thigh, gripping the soft skin. He feels the muscle twitch and a cute hum leave your lips but you don’t make a comment on it. “I don’t have time for boys,” you mumbled, eyes focused on the screen. You must be so tipsy at this point, poor thing, brain too foggy to notice the obvious jump scare that’s about to happen. It’s alright, though, the loud noise sends you leaning against him now.

“Aww, did you get scared, honey?” he coos, hand rubbing your back. Akaashi’s hand travels back to your thigh, running his fingers along the fabric of your jeans. “Are you really comfortable sleeping like that? Remember I have some extra clothes.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine…” But Akaashi isn’t having it, pulling you closer until you’re fully seated in his lap. You gasp in surprise, but don’t make an effort to push him away. On the contrary, you settle in his hold, sighing in relief.

Akaashi plays with the button at the front of your pants, easily spreading your legs so they dangle on the outside of his. “What did I say about fighting me, sweetie? I only want to help,” with deft hands, he undoes the clasp and pulls the zipper down. He’s so elated when you silently allow him to shimmy your bottoms off, leaving your panties exposed. “Doesn’t that feel so much better?”

He truly can’t help himself, thumb brushing against the front of your underwear. He slaps your thigh to placate you when you start squirming in his grasp. “I’m just helping, baby, it’s okay.”

“Noooo, sir, you can’t look at me down there,” the smell of wine is heavy on your breath as you slur your words. “It’s so embarrassing…” But Akaashi stopped listening when you called him “sir.” He thought he trained you not to call him that, but you can’t help it. So stupid with all that alcohol running through your veins. He’s feeling the effects of his few drinks—he would never be so forward like this but fortune favors the bold.

“Is that why there’s a wet spot right here?” Akaashi asks, touching between your legs once more, purposely reaching for the damp spot that’s slowly growing. He hears you whine again but quells it with a simple shush. “We have to be quiet remember? You’re gonna wake Kisa up.”

That makes you bite your lip, stifling any cries that would fall out. But it doesn’t do much to hinder Akaashi from touching you. His fingers playing at the hem of your panties. He could feel you trying to bring your legs together, but he keeps them spread. “Will you let me touch you, baby? I’ll make you feel so good,” he breathes.

Even in your embarrassment, you’re still a good girl and nod, boosting his ego. With the green light, Akaashi wastes no time plunging two of his fingers inside you. He’s quick to cover your mouth with his free hand, suppressing the cry before you can wake up the whole house. He even has to catch himself for a second, head lolling back at how wet you are. Fuck. 

The vice grip you have around his hand tells Akaashi that you’re going to feel so much sweeter when he has his cock in you. Perfect, he thinks. The thought of some inexperienced college boy on top of you, failing to make you cum, made him uneasy. A good girl like you needs a man. You’re still young and inexperienced—you need someone to show you real pleasure.

He’s more than happy to take up the mantle.

Akaashi’s other hand travels up your shirt, tugging at your bra until one of your breasts spills out. The flesh is so soft in his grasp, he has to let out another groan. He fucks you harder with his fingers, turning your head to swallow your cries with rough kisses. There’s a fire inside Akaashi that he didn’t know existed. It certainly wasn’t there during those last few months of his marriage or with those one-night stands he had to fill the void.

He needs you to cum, needs to feel your juices running down his arm. Akaashi pays attention to your clit, circling it with his thumb just enough to see your legs start shaking. “Does it feel good, angel?”

You cutely whine against his lips, “Yes…it feels so good, sir.” Akaashi has to compose himself when your hips start moving When you’re fucking yourself on his fingers, chasing your high any way you can. God, he’s really gonna fuck you up. “Ahh, sir—sir, I’m gonna!” You whine into your hand to cover up the sounds, creaming around Akaashi’s hand as your eyes rolled back in bliss. He lets your body rock through it, free hand playing with your buds. Rolling and tugging them between his fingers.

“Honey, you’re making a mess all over me,” but Akaashi’s the opposite of upset. He wants to lick all of it up until he’s drowning in your sweet nectar. He wants to bury his face in between your legs and make you cum over and over until your brain is mush. But he’s hard and leaking in his pants and while he knows he can hold out as long as he needs to, Akaashi needs to experience the feeling of your cunt around him.

While you’re still feeling the effects, Akaashi wraps his arms around you and hoists you up, carrying you bridal style. “You’re gonna feel so much more comfortable on my bed, baby,” he whispers, trekking up the steps, down the hallway, and far from Kisa’s room where she’s fast asleep. He sets you down on the plush king-sized mattress and smiles at how quickly you settle into the silk sheets. “Feels good, yeah? Wanted to have more room while I fuck you.” Akaashi breathes, unbuttoning his shirt before climbing into the bed and hovering over you.

You’re staring up at him with wide, doe eyes. So naive to what’s to come. “Oh, I’m gonna fuck you. Wanna see you cum from my cock, okay?”

Akaashi kisses you again, smothering your noises of affirmation. He pulls the rest of your clothes off, savoring the sight of your naked body, the swell of your breasts, and your glistening cunt between your legs. Next time, he thinks. Next time Akaashi will reward himself with fucking you with his tongue. His cock hits his abdomen when he finally frees it, kicking his pants and boxers down and stroking himself with anticipation. “It’s gonna go so deep in you, but I know you can take it. You’re such a good girl…”

The words only make you squirm more underneath him. Akaashi stops stalling and rubs his cock against your folds, cursing under his breath from how wet you are. It’s so easy for him to slip in, easily stretching you out until he’s buried at the hilt. He has you folded in a half, pushing at the back of your thighs to reach even deeper. 

Such a dumb, pretty girl you are, letting a man twice your age fuck you unprotected. You’re so lucky that it’s Akaashi doing this and not some other man who’d take advantage of you. He can take such good care of you—make you feel good, get your eyes to roll to the back of your head, you’ll never want to look at another man again.

“You’re so big,” you gasp, fingernails digging into Akaashi’s skin when he sets a slow pace. Akaashi pulls nearly all the way out before meeting his hips once again with yours. He can tell you’re getting addicted from the way your cunt spasms around him, clenching down to the point you’re practically choking him.

A pretty girl like you will definitely let him cum inside, fill up that young, fertile womb of yours. Oh, how adorable would you look with his seed spilling out of you? Or even better, plump and round with his baby? He’s always wanted a sibling for Kisa but his bitch wife wouldn’t allow it. But you wouldn’t fight him. Akaashi could be able to provide for you if you’d just let him.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. Never felt a pussy this good in my life,” he mumbles, leaning down to kiss you, slightly changing the angle of his thrusts. The sounds of you crying out are intoxicating, he could drown in it. 

"You ever felt someone's cum inside you, baby?" Akaashi asks in between kisses, groaning at the sight of your breasts bouncing as he fucks you. 

"No, never..." you sigh, mouthing a small fuck as Akaashi keeps going. 

He kisses you harder and the pride that's been bubbling inside him burns white hot in the pit of his stomach. He might not be the first to claim your body, but he'll definitely be the first the breed you—and that feels so much better.

Akaashi brings a hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were fucked out, mouth wet with spit. So beautiful. "It'll make you feel all warm," he says against your lips. "You'll feel so full and when it runs out of you—fuck. You'll love it so much, baby."

Wrapping your legs around Akaashi's waist, you pull him closer. "I want it! I want your cum, sir," you whined and Akaashi has you right where he wants. A dumb, cock drunk girl crying underneath him.

It's perfect. You're fucking perfect.

"God, I'm gonna fucking ruin you," he grunts, moving faster. Akaashi's thrusts get sloppy, losing his rhythm as he fucks you with purpose. "Gonna make you so full of me."

You're crying, fat tears running down your cheeks as you're overcome with pleasure and the feeling of your nails dragging down Akaashi's back tells him that you're cumming once again. 

It's so messy, your walls form a vice grip around his cock, and Akaashi, the experienced man that he is, can't help it. He cums with your name on his tongue, flooding your sinful cunt.

Both of you stay like that for a while. Akaashi's cock twitched inside you, making sure there isn't a single drop wasted. After a while, he wipes any stray tears that fall, kissing your warm cheeks with praises in between.

"You did so well, sweetie. You took all of me," he says, holding your shaking frame. He gives you a few seconds before peeling away and pulling his cock out, eyes locked on his seed flowing out of your cunt and making the mess he knew it would. "Look at that..." he whispers, completely mesmerized.

He knows he has to clean you up, but Akaashi lets himself enjoy the sight for right now. He'll keep the end of his bargain and drop you off at your place in the morning. But a part of him hopes you'll want to stay a little longer. You can be his cute live-in nanny, who takes care of his angel in the morning and gets fucked dumb at night. 

You’ll do it for him. You’re a good girl after all.

©sugawarassoulmate 2022 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi #akaashi scenarios #keiji akaashi smut #akaashi smut #akaashi keiji smut #keiji akaashi x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #dilf haikyuu #✨ #✨akaashi #peach's spoopy season 🎃

[babydin]

Love in the Middle of a Firefight

The pregnancy is easy, despite the circumstances. The pregnancy was the easy part, Joel was supportive, he helped out, he ran around like a Retriever whenever you asked him to and Ellie asked a million questions every single day. But when the baby arrives Joel doesn't know if he remembers how to love something so fragile. - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - (1/?) - Joel is dad, Joel is Daddy, paternal postnatal depression, pregnancy sex, oral. Not necessarily in this chapter, but for sure in this series!! Trauma references. Domesticated af. Angsty in places! - 1868 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - A/N: I didn't think too hard about the timeline, just vaguely after the events of S1, they go to Jackson to Tommy's place and live there and nothing bad happens. This will be in multiple parts but I haven't planned for how many! There will be time-jumps in each of the parts because I'm impatient™️

You haven’t heard him say the word ‘resources’ since the three of you were backpacking across the country trying to get to Jackson and your heart breaks at how quickly he has slipped back into survival mode.

“Joel I–” The words catch in your throat as he looks up at you after hearing his name. He always has an expectant look on his face whenever you say his name; he’d been so attentive since the two of you had settled town in Jackson with Ellie. You didn’t dare say it out loud, or to his face, but the man was domesticated. He was tamed and you hadn’t done a thing, he’d just set his battles aside. Both of them were, Ellie had agreed to go to school, and Joel helped around the town in the mornings then returned home for a late lunch. Just to prove your point, he was doing dishes when you found him.   “Joel, I’m late.”

He set down the bowl from breakfast he was drying with a dish towel and then wiped his hands on his jeans, “Well, where d’ya need t’ be? I’ll drive you.” Your face scrunches and you shake your head, you’d smile if you weren’t so scared. You don’t want to say it out loud, saying it out loud would make it real. Maybe if the world hadn’t fallen apart and supplies weren’t limited, risks weren’t significantly higher because of all of that you’d be a little more excited, you’d have ran to the nearest drugstore to buy a home pregnancy test and taken it immediately. “Joel.” you say his name again, firmer this time, hoping he hears you. He’s halfway between grabbing the keys to his truck and the kitchen sink, those attentive eyes trying so desperately to figure out what you’re trying to say. Your fingers grip the counter and your heels push back into the ground so your head can bow down to the ground;  if you’re going to say it, you don’t want to look at him, “I haven’t missed a period since I was 14. You could set a clock on it. I should’ve had it three fuckin’ weeks ago, Joel.” His silence is deafening. There’s no elation, there isn’t any regret though either, and if you know Joel like you think you do he’s probably going through the same thought process as you are. Thinking about where the supplies are going to come from, how the baby is going to be born, babies had been born since the outbreak it wasn’t unheard of but he wasn’t exactly carrying a four leafed clover. Except you knew Joel’s history, you knew he had lost a child, you knew he had struggled to bond with Ellie when they first met, you knew how reluctant he had been to open his heart up to being a father again when he felt himself getting closer to her. But he was a dad now, her dad; they had a strange relationship and they cursed at each other and played at roughhousing in the living room, they’d zing each other and then laugh about it afterwards, but Joel tucked her in every night and he listened to her problems and helped her with homework, and hugged her so tightly when her emotions got too big for her to voice. You take a breath and it shakes in desperation, fighting to keep your shit together as you felt his gaze burning into you, “Say something Joel, for fucks sa–” “It’s going to be fine.” There was that asshole voice you thought he had given up when you had settled down in Tommy’s town, you had to pull yourself upwards to look at him because you did not believe a single syllable that came out of his mouth. Not in that flat, robotic tone. That wasn’t a reassurance that was a reaction. That was just something he was saying to make you feel better, it wasn’t something he believed. Suddenly, his jagged expression softened and he pushed his jaw out slightly, his eyes got bigger and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He repeats himself, “It’s going to be fine.” this time he sounds so sure. He sounds like he has a plan, he sounds like he’d walk through gunfire for you. “Let me – Let me talk to Tommy; See what kinda resources they have, maybe they got one’a those ultrasound machines,” he starts rushing, grabbing his boots and trying to put them on without sitting down which does nothing for his back, “then we’ll know for sure.” You blink hard, you haven’t heard him say the word ‘resources’ since the three of you were backpacking across the country trying to get to Jackson and your heart breaks at how quickly he has slipped back into survival mode. “I’m sorry.” you whisper the words but he doesn’t hear you.  “I’ll be back.” he kisses your cheek and then he’s gone. You picture a world before the outbreak, where Joel never endured all that trauma and you tell him you think you’re pregnant and his face lights up and he picks you up and spins you around and offers to book your first scan. You’d spend hours on the couch talking about nursery ideas and baby names, and tell him not to get his hopes up in case you’re not actually pregnant but he just scoffs. Before the outbreak, you would’ve told Joel you thought you were pregnant and he would’ve been an excitable dad of two. In the outbreak, you told Joel you thought you were pregnant and his first instinct was how to survive it.  You sit on the couch with your arms wrapped around you and wait for him to come back. A million thoughts swirling around in your mind about every possible outcome of this, you tried your hardest to focus on the ones that ended happily, but without Joel there it was hard. “Come on.” You jump at the sound of Joel’s voice, your eyes finding a clock to see how long you had been sitting in your thoughts as he pulls you up off the couch. He’d come back at least. “Put your shoes on, darlin’. The hospital has an ultrasound, they’re callin’ for a nurse to meet us there.” It wasn’t much of a hospital, it was a bakery they had used for medical supplies. There was a refrigerator and storage large enough for medicines but it was a glorified med-bay at best. Nothing bad enough happened in Jackson for them to need a full hospital, if it did they’d have to drive out of town, and if they were lucky they'd make it in time to return for them to recover at home. In the 8 months you’d lived there, the worst thing that had happened was Mr Jellinsky getting chased out of the chicken coop by a pissed off rooster. He tripped and got his ass bit right between the cheeks and Joel laughed and said, “There’s a dick joke to be said, but I ain’t gon’ be the one to say it.” and you had never heard him sound more Southern. “Joel, what–” You didn’t know how that sentence ended. What if you are pregnant? What if you died in childbirth leaving him a single father of two? What if you weren’t pregnant? What are you going to do with a baby? “Put your shoes on.” He moved to grab your shoes from the door and brought them to your feet. “Joel—” He bent down and picked your feet up off the ground one by one to slip them into your sneakers, “You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout a thing right now, okay? Let’s just let the nurses look at’cha and then we’ll talk.” “Are you scared?” Joel stood up and scoffed a little, he looked at you with those heavy brown eyes once again searching for your soul,reading you like a book. There was a time when he would’ve lied and tightened his jaw and said no, but not these days. “Sweet thing, I’m terrified. Let’s go.” It wasn’t at all far for you to walk from your little cabin-like home to the place you needed to be, Joel slipped his hand into yours half way there and you found such comfort in the way his large hands enveloped yours. You had never noticed how many babies were in Jackson until now, and the parents all seemed content with their lives here. As you laid back on the gurney and answered the nurse’s questions, you occasionally glanced over at Joel. He’s been here before and he’s trying to figure out how to be there again, his teeth are chewing on the inside of his cheek, you’re desperate to know if he’s more anxious to hear a yes or a no. “Have you had any other symptoms besides your period being late?” You shrug and shake your head, you’ve never been pregnant before so you don’t know what ‘symptoms’ means in this case. “Have you been peeing more than usual? Any nausea in the morning?” You try to remember, and shake your head but you really don’t recall. “Any cramping?” You hum and put your hand on your stomach but she bats it away softly so she can pull up your shirt and prepare it for the ultrasound, “I mean, a little but I was just expecting my period so I didn’t really think anything of it…” “Any tenderness or soreness in your breasts?” You shake your head again but Joel clicks his tongue in protest and pipes up in a voice that’s so gravely and sounds like he hasn’t spoken in a week, “You wouldn’t let me touch you last week because you said your nipples were sore.” You take a moment to consider his words and he almost has you convinced that maybe you are pregnant. A cold jelly like substance is dispensed onto your stomach and you gasp and your muscles twitch, the nurse smiles and apologizes. You turn to the screen and Joel moves closer to you. It fills with static that ebbs and flows as the nurse moves the probe around your lower stomach. Even as she explains it to you, you can’t make out what exactly you are looking at but you trust she knows. Then she stops, and Joel sinks to his knees, “This is your uterus–” she gestures on the screen, He wraps both of his hands around yours and brings your knuckles to his lips and you can feel his smile and his heavy breaths as he becomes overcome with emotions. “--- and this little thing here that looks like a peanut…” She didn’t need to finish that sentence for you to know how it ended. The way Joel had reacted, the way it looked on the screen, barely there but very much obvious. Your cargo. You look at Joel as the nurse tells you that you’re pregnant and his eyes are full of tears that he doesn’t allow himself to cry, he’s hiding his mouth behind your hand but his cheeks are dimpled and you know he’s smiling. Relief washes over you and you feel like a fool for doubting him for a second, a fraction of your anxieties lift and you realize he’s with you. When he said it was going to be fine, he meant it.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou smut #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #( love in the middle of a firefight: babydin ) #( joel miller: babydin )

[ijustreallylovethem]

break up with him

i had this idea on my drive home earlier and i’m not entirely sure i like it but… it’s postable. let me know what you guys think!

luke hughes x reader

words: 2,401

masterlist

“hello?”

“hey, sorry it’s late but-“

“you know i’ll always answer your calls.” luke smiled at your reminder. very rarely had you ever missed one of his calls, because he knew your schedule almost better than his own. if he was calling during class or work, you knew it was serious. and any other time, well you would never pass up the opportunity to talk to your best friend.

“i know.”

“so what’s up? jack annoying you again and you need me to yell at him?” you honestly weren’t sure how the two had been able to live together for the past year with as much as they squabbled. in the two weeks since they had been back in michigan, you had already broken up more arguments than you could count.

“noooooo. why did i call you?” he asked the question more to himself, causing you to giggle.

“lukey, you been drinking?” you heard him scoff into the phone, as if that was a ludacris idea.

“me? drinking? absolutely not!” however, you only had to stay silent for a moment before he was telling the truth. “okay, maybe i’ve had a couple beers.”

“you know it’s a tuesday, right?” you teased.

“well, jacks the one that pulled them out of the fridge so you can take that up with him.” you rolled your eyes, picturing what luke was telling you exactly.

“anyway, you just miss me so much you had to call me? you just saw me a couple of hours ago.”

“i always miss you when you’re gone,” he said, maybe a bit to sincerely. your lips formed a pout, and you were about to open your mouth to speak but luke continued. “but no, i had a reason for calling you… what was it?”

“i don’t know, moose. i’m not in your mind.” you could hear jack yelling something faintly and luke gasped.

“oh! we were listening to music and it started playing that brad paisley song that you always refuse to listen to because it makes you cry.” jack spoke in the background again and then luke clicked his tongue. “right, two people fell in love.”

“and you called to tell me because… you want me to think about it and cry?”

“nooooooo. i called because it made me think about you and then i wanted to talk to you.”

“so you do miss me. that’s what i’m hearing.” you smile, loving how attached your best friend could be sometimes. you understood where he was coming from though. you had been attached at the hip since he moved to michigan and now you lived in two different states. now that he was back for the summer, you had been spending almost all of your time together catching up. the only reason you hadn’t stayed over there tonight was because of your boyfriend, peyton.

you and peyton had met in class at the beginning of the semester, but you had only been together for about four months. luckily, he understood how important luke was to you and had no problem with him. you had been worried at the beginning of your relationship that your friendship with luke would be seen as a problem, as you had heard many horror stories about boyfriends and guy best friends before. but the two had formally met the second day luke was back in michigan and seemed to have no problems with each other. since you had been spending so much time with luke, peyton had asked if you could both spend a night in together, and you were happy to grant his request.

“you know i’d be over there right now if i was allowed to be,” luke responded, as if it were obvious. you both knew it was though. you were always inseparable during the summer, and everyone only expected it to be worse this year since you had spent so long apart.

“don’t worry, i know.”

“speaking of which, where is he?”

“peyton? he went to go pickup food so we didn’t have to pay for delivery.” luke gasped dramatically, and you could practically picture the sarcastic hand he had brought up to his chest.

“you’re telling me he requested you all to himself and then left you?” you couldn’t help but giggle.

“he did, unfortunately. but he’ll be back soon.” luke hummed, but other than that, the line was silent for a few moments.

“hey y/n, can i ask you something?” his tone had turned serious, but you knew that didn’t automatically mean that his question would follow suit.

“always, lukey.” he didn’t ask right away, which had you believing whatever he was about to say was more serious than you originally thought. he took a deep breath and then rushed the words out.

“do you love him?” the question took you by surprise, and you weren’t sure how to answer.

“what?”

“because, you talk about him, you tell me things he does for you and such, but i feel like you don’t always sound… i don’t know, excited, i guess. like he’s there but you don’t truly care that he is.”

you’re stunned by his words. so stunned that you can only look down at your lap and pick at the little pills on your shorts. luke knows you well, and even though he can’t see you, he realizes you’re not going to answer.

“sorry, maybe i shouldn’t have asked. but i think the fact that you can’t tell me yes means that the answer is no.”

deep down, you know he’s right. you know that your relationship with peyton isn’t bad, but it isn’t amazing either. he’s a great guy, a good boyfriend, but something just wasn’t clicking for you. you had hoped that something would change as time went on, but you had heard of the three month rule and that time had come and gone. nothing.

“y/n?”

“he’s a good guy, luke.” you felt a tear run down your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. “i hate that i don’t feel more toward him. he’s so amazing to me but-“

“but you don’t love him.” you shake your head, even though he can’t see you.

“no.” you reach up to wipe away another tear, taking a breath to steady yourself. “i don’t know why, but i don’t. no matter how much i probably should. which really sucks, because i don’t want to hurt him.”

“you’ll just hurt him worse by staying with him,”luke reasoned, and you knew he was right. you couldn’t lie to peyton about loving him and you couldn’t keep giving him false hope by hoping you somehow fell in love with him in the future.

“i know,” you whispered. you heard the door to your apartment open and close and you sighed silently. “i gotta go.”

“he’s back?”

“yeah, bye lukey.”

peyton looked at you concerned as he set the bag of take out on the coffee table in front of you. he slipped off his shoes and sat down, opening his arms to you.

“everything okay?” you just pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around yourself. peyton was quick to readjust when he realized you wouldn’t be moving closer to him. “what’s wrong?”

“um, i just… i finally am admitting some things that i didn’t want to admit for the past few weeks.” you closed your eyes and took a breath, trying to figure out how to break the news in the easiest way possible.

“you’re breaking up with me.” your eyes flew open, your jaw dropped slightly as well as you looked at him bewildered.

“how-“

“i really like you, y/n. which means i did my best to learn you. and it didn’t take me long to figure out that you like me too, but not as much. and not in the same way. but i don’t think i wanted to admit it to myself either.”

“peyton, i am so sorry-“

“don’t be sorry.” you had no clue how he was able to offer you a kind smile right now, but he was. he even reached out and gently rubbed your arm, trying to give you as much comfort as you would let him. “it’s not your fault you don’t love me. it’s okay.” the pout returned to your face as more tears welled up in your eyes.

“how are you being so sweet right now?” he pulled you into a hug now, rubbing his hand gently up and down your spine as he laughed slightly.

“to be honest with you, i’ve had about two weeks to let the information sink in.” you pulled away just enough to look up at him with glassy eyes.

“two weeks? why two weeks?” you began to wrack your brain. what had happened between the two of you two weeks ago?

“the day i met luke, and i saw the two of you together, i knew you’d never belong to me. i don’t think you’ve realized it yet, and i’m not sure if he has or not, but y/n, you can’t love me because you love him.”

his words hit you like a train. it was like you had been trying to put together a whole lego set without the base piece, and now that you had it, it was finally standing up straight and looking like it was supposed to. you were suddenly hearing what luke wasn’t saying on your phone call earlier, what he hadn’t been saying in all of your conversations for god knows how long. you were realizing why peyton felt like he was missing something even though he had been nothing but perfect to you.

“and now i think you’ve realized it,” peyton said quietly, a smile on his face.

“peyton… i am so sorry.”

“hey, don’t be sorry, remember? i want you to be happy, okay? and it sucks that that isn’t going to be with me. but i would never be selfish and keep you for myself when that’s clearly not what you want.”

you couldn’t help but surge forward, squeezing him tightly to thank him for the amount of clarity he had shown you. but just as quickly as you grabbed him, you let go and stood up.

“i need… i need to go. um, you can eat all the food and just, lock the door on your way out and-“

peyton stood and slipped on his shoes, shaking his head slightly as he laughed at you.

“need a ride?” your shoulders deflated as some of the stress left your body.

“yes please.”

“come on.” you grabbed your phone and slipped on the shoes by your door, following peyton out of the building to his car. from the moment that you buckled you were zoned out, biting at your nails as you tried to plan what to say.

how do you tell your best friend that you’re in love with him? what if he hadn’t realized he was in love with you too. what if he wasn’t in love with you? oh god what if peyton had gotten into your head and made you believe all of this as revenge for breaking up with him? no, he wouldn’t do that. would he?

it took you a moment to realize the car was parked in front of jack and quinn’s lake house. however, even after you realized, you stayed still.

“you gonna make me sit here all night?” peyton teased. you finally looked up at him, forcing a small smile through your worried state.

“thank you, peyton. for everything.” he gave a smile and a slight nod, then looked to the front door.

“go be happy.”

you were quick to unbuckle and climb out of the car, not sparing a glance behind you as you made your way up the sidewalk. you vaguely registered the sound of the car leaving and the way the night grew darker as the light from his headlights left, but your eyes stayed trained on the front door. usually you just walked right in, but that didn’t seem right for the moment. so instead you rang the doorbell.

you waited a moment, then realized the two boys probably wouldn’t be phased by someone ringing the bell. it wasn’t a common occurrence unless the person ringing it was a sales person or such. so you stepped forward and rang it again. it took a moment of waiting but finally the door opened to reveal your confused best friend.

“y/n? why did you… get in here.” but you stood in your spots taking a deep breath to steel yourself for what you were about to say.

“i don’t love peyton.” now luke looked even more confused.

“we had this conversation like half an hour ago. are you okay? come inside.”

“luke! i… i don’t love peyton because i love you.”

it was slow, the way his demeanor changed. but sure enough, his frown turned up into a smile and his eyes lit up as your words fully registered inside of his brain. his grip on the door handle fell and he ran his hand through his curls.

“god, i thought you’d never figure it out.” he was reaching for you then, cupping your cheeks in his palms and pressing his lips to yours. he kissed you like he’d never get enough, like he never wanted to let you go.

“god guys, get a room.” luke pulled away then, and you glanced around him to see jack standing there. his tone was disgusted but his expression was giddy. but before you could question it, he spoke again. “great timing though, i’m winning five grand on this. i gotta call trev.”

he walked away, and you looked up at luke, who was already smiling down at you. his eyes were bright and his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were just a little swollen. you were nearly sure you didn’t look much different.

“how about we go to my room and talk about this, yeah?” you nodded, considering the only thing you’d want more was for him to kiss you again. but seeing as you were still standing in the front doorway, maybe that could wait just a moment. well…

“kiss me one more time?” you asked, batting your lashes at him. his smile turned into a soft smirk for a moment before his lips were back on yours.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #Spotify

[epione-xx]

LOVER <3

Just a cute little fluff about a boy, a girl and a Mercedes in the night listening to Taylor swift and day dreaming

——————————————————————————

His hand laid on your plush and warm thigh, the city’s street lights casting shadows over various items but when Damian drove past them, you could see his tiny smile, how his eyes glistened and how they shined like emeralds.

Taylor swifts ‘lover’ was playing in the foreground as he drove, no words were spoken as a comfortable smile silence fell over you both. He squeezed your thigh again and turned the corner.

Drives like this had no purpose, you guys had no where to go- in fact you should have been tucked into bed long ago, but when your boyfriend calls and offers to take you out in his cool car, you accept.

The car in question was a Mercedes AMG E63, in a midnight black colour and with the street lights shining on it, it almost looking like a galaxy had enveloped the car. The interior was all leather- “easier to clean” Damian would claim but you knew he never really bothered to clean his seats unless well, unless something…else, had happened.

Your side was prettied up too, well kind of. He had put in a better mirror and you had all your little sweets in the glove box along with spare womanly panties- yknow, just in case…things…happened.

You were in a trance, your head pulled to the side a little as day dreams flooded into your mind of him, suddenly you felt another though squeeze and a soft “beloved?”

You snapped out of your trance again and blinked awake “shit, sorry…was I in a trance again?” Your eyes squint as you looked at him in the dark and notice the lines of his crinkled nose as he smiles

“Yeah, you were” he smiles and you could only smile back as she slowly laced your fingers together, still on top of your thigh.

“I love you Damian” you say finally after a nice moment of silence.

“And I you, beloved.”

Your stomach was warm and tingly, your heart full as you pulled Damian’s hands to your lips and then let it lay back down on your thigh, the back of his hand touched your thigh and you traced over his palm.

Each line and scar told a story, you could remember going to the palm reader with him once, remember how she said that “he would live a long and happy life with the love of his life” and you could remember that being a key moment in your relationship, the moment where Damian let his walls come down around you. The moment he trusted you with his heart.

You remember when his couldn’t hold anything for weeks because of when his hand got slashed by a villains knife, how you had to do everything for him and walk on his left side- which he hates because you were closer to the road, and how he panicked about any little car that passed you both because what if it was some maniac who could have hit you?!

The song changed, the one upbeat and happy song now turned into a low strum of a bass as arctic monkeys played- a Damian pick surprisingly.

He chuckles a little as he looked over at you “remember the last time this song played?” He asks with a raised brow as his hand crawled up your thigh.

You flushed thinking about it and coughed a little “yeah, that was a good time” you said as he nods and stroked the inside of your thigh.

You pinched his hand lightly and he gave you the biggest hurt puppy eyes, because even if he was a superhero, his dear beloved hurting him? It was his greatest weakness!

You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out just as Damian reached a red light.

“Don’t do that beloved” his husky voice said. The light still red and reflecting in his iris, he leaned forward and kissed you, biting your tongue lightly as you let out a soft moan, feeling his hands go high and high and then-

Green.

You cursed traffic control, the light itself for even working! How dare they do this to you! He smirked at your reaction but pulled away as he pressed on the gas again and drove off.

You pout, brushing his warm hand against your own heat so that he would begin again, but he didn’t, only smirked knowing that you would get him back when you got home and send him some pictures in that pretty little white set you owned that made you looked like an angel.

After all, if it was 40 minutes or 7 hours, Damian would always be at your door ready for you, using his rich boy privilege to give you the best life he ever could.

The ring box in his pocket was only another promise of that vowel he made to himself.

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damily #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne smut #damian wayne headcanon #damian al ghul #damian wayne fanfiction #batboys #batbros #batfam headcanons #batboys x reader #batman #batfam x reader #batfam #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 1

Here we go! I have it planned that I will be updating this story on Fridays, so yay! I have 10 parts set out as of now, but we'll see where this story takes me.

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Friends with Benefits, ANGST, unrequited feelings, lots more to come!

Word Count: 1,200

Prologue

You were right to doubt Natasha's words.

Waking up next to Bucky just gets harder and harder as time goes on. Listening to his soft murmurs and heavy sighs, the feel of his bare skin against yours. Every time you find yourself between his sheets, you resent him a little. But it’s not his fault, it’s yours. Every time.

Because you know that if you ever take that one crucial step towards him, you’ll lose him. Lose this closeness, this connection.

So you don’t take that step. You haven’t opened up and told him how you feel for months now. And it drives a knife into your heart with every second that passes where you don’t confess.

Every time you sneak away from parties to some hidden room for a quick fuck, or when he’s pounding into you under a street light on some deserted road with your leg hiked over his motorcycle at 3 am, you can’t help but imagine that all this passion has to mean something to him. Like it means something to you.

So you test it.

You invite him on adventures between missions, visiting museums and parks and 24/7 diners that you know are perfect date spots. He always readily agrees to hang out and stays with you the whole time, his arm slung over your shoulders while he laughs in your ear.

Spending time with Bucky like this leaves you effervescent. You always leave his arms smiling like a fool – because that’s what you are.

Because these movie tickets are just an excuse, really. 

Bucky’s been so busy these last couple of weeks that you’ve hardly seen him, let alone spent any "quality" time with him. You’re currently on your longest dry spell you’ve ever had with him, and the lack of contact leaves you delusional.

Delusional enough to do something stupid. 

Delusional enough to tell Bucky how you feel.

The air is cold as you and Bucky stroll from the movie theater, your heart buzzing in your chest as you contemplate how best to approach the topic. Bucky gives you the perfect opportunity with his next sentence.

“Damn, dollface, forgot how much fun it was to hang out with you. Feels like it’s been ages.”

“We could always hang out more,” you respond coyly, taking his hand and curling yourself against his side. You don’t think you can look him in the eyes while you confess to him.

“Yeah, we should,” Bucky says, and you can’t hold back your next words.

“We could go on a real date sometime.”

You feel a nearly imperceptible jolt in Bucky’s muscles, and his voice is slightly bemused when he replies. “What?” 

There’s confusion behind the words, but you hope against hope that it’s because he’s thinking your suggestion through.

“Well, I mean, we’ve already kind of been going on dates and doing other things that couples do? It wouldn’t be so hard to just make it more concrete, you know?” Your words squeeze around the lump in your throat, your insides shivering in desperation.

Bucky stops in his tracks and pulls you off to the side of the street out of other people’s way. He turns you to face him, his palms resting on your shoulders, his blue eyes searching your face for any sign of the joke you must surely be playing. Because you’ve talked about this. He was very clear. And you had agreed all those months ago – agreed that it was just sex. Agreed that neither of you had any romantic feelings for the other.

“Uh, doll? What are you…?”

Your cheeks burn and your fingers tingle. Your heart can’t handle being scrutinized so intensely at this moment. You avert your eyes to where you’re scuffing your shoe back and forth, back and forth, across the pavement.

“I’m saying… I–I like you, Bucky.” Heart in youth throat, you finally look back into his eyes when you say his name. 

But his expression as he looks back at you isn’t the one you were wanting to see. Bucky looks panicked. Like you’ve just told him that you’re holding a bomb that’s set to detonate in seconds. 

“Jesus,” Bucky says your name in exasperation as he removes his hands from your arms and runs them through his long hair, “why would you–”

Fuck. 

You quickly back-pedal, trying to keep the panic out of your voice while scrambling to pick your bleeding heart off the dirty sidewalk.

“No, no, no. Wait, Bucky. Listen. I know we’ve talked about this before and you said you weren’t looking for anything serious.” Your hands are flying all over the place as you try and explain away your feelings. “But we’ve been hanging out a lot and maybe I just got the wrong idea–”

“Yeah. You did,” Bucky interjects, sending a dagger into the mess of an organ clutched desperately between your hands. “It’s flattering and all, but… you know I’m not interested in you like that.”

You’re successfully holding back tears against the burning in your eyes, but the need to release all the pain you’re feeling is overwhelming. You wrap one arm protectively around yourself and grab on to your other bicep, squeezing hard to feel the physical hurt instead of the emotional.

“No, yeah, you’re right. I’m – I just thought I should be honest? But, seriously, don’t even worry about it.” You hold your hands up in a placating gesture and give as convincing a smile as possible. “This won’t change anything, I promise. And besides, I’ll get over it soon enough!”

Bucky gives you a skeptical look, but nods his head slowly. “So… we’re taking sex off the table, obviously.”

You give a breathy laugh and try to roll your eyes playfully. “Probably not the best idea at the moment,” you respond.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs, “probably not.”

You both stand in awkward silence, not really looking at each other. You can only stand it for so long until you casually throw a thumb over your shoulder and suggest heading back home.

It’s a long, long ride back on his motorcycle. But at least the wind lashing your face gives you an excuse for the tears that fall.

***

You make it to your floor without seeing another person, but your luck runs out when you find Nat and Wanda watching a movie together in your bed. The sight of your two best friends smiling warmly at your entrance shatters the last of your strength.

You can’t stop the hiccuping sob that leaves your throat – it refuses to be held back any longer. Both women’s eyes widen and they immediately start to sit up, but you’ve collapsed on top of the covers between them before they could move. You can feel Wanda’s fingers in your hair and Nat’s hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulders.

Your sobs eventually turn into sniffles, and that’s when Wanda speaks.

“What happened?” she asks softly.

You take a shuddering breath in before saying, “I was stupid.”

“What–” Wanda begins, but Natasha immediately knows what you mean.

“Fuck.” She sighs heavily and leans down to place a kiss on the crown of your head.

Part 2

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #captain america #Sorry

[hendersister]

dancing in the dark

summary: you run into steve while he's picking up dustin to drive to the snow ball.

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

title 🎵: dancing in the dark by bruce springsteen

a/n: this is my first ever steve fic! i hope it doesn't suck 🫣

“Mom! Where did you leave the car keys?” 

You walk into the living room to find your mother watching TV. Her new kitten, Tews, sits comfortably on her lap. Christmas music is playing loudly in the background.

It’s a busy night in the Henderson household. Your little brother, Dustin, is getting ready to go to the Snow Ball at Hawkins Middle. He’s a little anxious but you can tell he’s excited. 

While Dustin is at the dance, you plan on going to the movies with a couple of your friends. Your mom is even letting you borrow her car under one condition - you have to pick up Dustin from the Snow Ball. Luckily, you don’t need to worry about giving Dustin a ride to the dance. He’s already got that covered… 

“In my purse,” she answers, nodding to her bag on the coffee table.

“Thanks!” you smile.

You reach for your mom’s purse and pull out her car keys.

“Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!”

Dustin frantically enters the living room in search of something.

“Where did you see it last?” your mom questions Dustin.

“Right here, where I put it,” he tells her.

“What’s in there that’s so important anyway? You look fabulous, baby,” your mom tries.

“Yeah listen to mom, dork! You look great,” you tease your little brother, ruffling his hair.

“Stop!” Dustin shrieks.

Dustin backs away from you and makes a b-line for the kitchen. You head towards the front door. Before walking out, you grab your coat hanging nearby.

“Don’t forget to pick Dusty up on your way home from the movies,” your mom reminds you.

You shrug, nodding your head. As if you needed the reminder. You’ve been looking after your little brother since the day he was born. After your father left, you took on a lot more responsibilities at home. You practically helped raise Dustin. You two are latch key kids. You used to babysit for Dustin everyday while your mom was working late. You and your brother became really close during that time. Sure, you and Dustin bicker occasionally, like all siblings do, but there’s a special bond between you two. 

“When have I ever forgotten to pick him?”

You put on your jacket, then call out to your brother.

“Hey Dustin! I’ll pick you up around ten.”

“Mhmm,” Dustin mumbles.

He’s so focused on looking for whatever he’s looking for, you don’t think he actually comprehend what you just said.

You roll your eyes and open the door.

“Got it!” you hear your little brother announce.

He grabs a paper bag off the kitchen counter. The last thing you see as you walk out the door is Dustin rushing off to his bedroom.

“Later mom! Have fun tonight, Dusty!” 

You close the door behind you on your way out. Just as you step outside, a red BMW pulls up in the driveway. You recognize the car and the driver immediately. It’s Steve Harrington.

You and Steve didn’t really know each other until a few weeks ago. Of course you knew of him, everybody did. He’s one of the most popular guys at Hawkins High. But Steve had no idea who you were. You never had a real conversation with Steve until the world almost came to an end….

It all started when Dustin had inadvertently adopted a creature from another dimension. Your little brother recruited you and Steve to help him handle the situation after the Demodog ate your mom’s cat, Mews. And, much to your surprise, Steve “The Hair'' Harrington actually stepped up to help. Until then, you had thought of him as douchebag King Steve. The experience made you see him in an entirely different light. Outside of school and away from all the petty teen drama, Steve Harrington is a good guy.

Steve bonded with both you and your little brother. What made you really grow to respect Steve was how he became close friends with Dustin. Your brother had been lacking a male role model since your dad left. Now Steve was starting to fill that role in Dustin’s life. You really appreciate Steve for everything he’s done for Dustin.

Steve parks his car right next to your mom’s. You’re walking towards your mom’s car when Steve gets out of his.

“Hey Steve,” you wave politely.

“Hey! Is he almost ready?” Steve asks.

You nod.

“Thanks for giving Dustin a ride. You saved me a trip…”

If Steve wasn’t driving Dustin then your mom probably would’ve made you take him.

“Yeah no problem. I think I’m basically one of his chauffeurs now anyways,” Steve nods.

“Welcome to the club, Harrington! We meet every Thursday to go over the driving schedule,” you joke.

Steve laughs, “Oh really? Well, I’ll make sure to bring the snacks for the next meeting.”

You quietly chuckle. You give Steve a small smile before you continue walking to your mom’s car. When you reach the car, you stop yourself from getting in. You turn back to Steve.

“I, uh, I think it’s really cool that you're driving Dustin to the dance,” you tell him sincerely. 

Steve nods, unsure what to say. You two lock eyes. There’s a spark there. You feel some sort of electricity between you and Steve. You’re having a quiet little moment. Well, at least you think so. You have no idea if Steve feels the same and you’re way too shy to make the first move. 

You take a deep breath and then break the silence.

“You’re a good guy, Steve Harrington.”

Before Steve has a chance to respond, you get in your mom’s car and drive off into the night. Steve watches you go, mentally kicking himself. He wishes he said something. When he was with you, he felt the spark too. But he's still getting over Nancy. Steve is just not ready for you yet. He'll get there... someday.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x henderson!sister reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic

[lovebugism]

Having a unserious argument with band AU!Eddie and there’s a moment where you both stare at each other and then his eyes flick down to ur lips. Which leads to you making out and forgetting about what the argument was about in the first place

bug's blurb sleepover (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)!

You knew the argument was stupid, but you also knew you were too mad to care. 

Like, otherworldly levels of mad. Levels that feel nearly unprecedented, even though you’re well aware it’s over something so damn mundane. 

Night of the Living Dead was playing at a drive-in in the same city the Corroded Coffin tour bus had parked in for the next few days. And Eddie wanted to take you. He said he’s wanted to take you out for weeks now, but your schedules just hadn’t allowed him the time to do so. 

His van hasn’t gotten much use in quite some time either. It’s just been dragging behind the tour bus and rusting more every time it rains. You, Gareth, and Jeff all told him that he wouldn’t have much time to drive it anywhere, but Eddie only said that “it broke his heart too bad to leave her behind.” 

Now, he’s glad that he didn’t. It’ll be good to take you for a drive in it, to roll the windows down and turn the radio all the way up, to watch you in between watching the road and pretend like you’re teenagers again.

And it was really cute, how excited he’d been to take you to see a film you’d both seen a thousand times over. “Taking you to a drive-in actually sounds super fun, babe, and I don’t even mean that in a pervy way. I just wanna spend time alone with you,” he’d told you before smirking. “Even though I won’t be opposed to a little heavy petting.”

It was real adorable. Until you started to get all philosophical about zombies, that is.

Eddie tried to tell you that zombies were still human after they turned. You scoffed when you disagreed, telling him that if that were the case, you wouldn’t have to use the word turned to describe them — that you wouldn’t even need the word zombies at all. 

He refused to listen to you, though, and kept on saying that they were “basically still humans but insane.”

And if you’d told yourself an hour or more ago that the two of you would be in a screaming match over this exact thing, you would’ve laughed. But now that it’s your reality, you’re absolutely fuming about it.

“They aren’t human anymore, Eds!” you argue in the confines of the bunk room, shielded only by the sliding door that does little to stifle your argument. You flail your hands around like crazy, eyes wide and glinting with annoyance. “It’s like a parasitic relationship! The zombie is just inhabiting the body of the dead human. Like a— I don’t know— like a fucking hermit crab or something.”

“They turn to zombies because they’re infected, right? Do you stop being a human because you get a little virus?” he retorts with a teasing lilt that only angers you more. “No! You don’t! It’s the same thing!”

“It’s not the same thing!” 

“Well, you obviously don’t know what you’re talking about it!”

“I know what I’m talking about, asshole! I’m just not gonna listen to a guy who failed senior year three times!” you shout back, obviously angry and irrational with it. 

You would’ve apologized for trying to hit him where it hurts if you saw that it had upset him in some way. But it doesn’t. Instead, he just keeps on teasing you.

“Ooh, you wanna kiss me so fucking bad,” he sing-songs to you, at you, with furrowed brows and lips set in a slight pout like a child.

That does little to quell your rage. Quite the opposite, really. He keeps dousing the fire in your chest with gasoline. You can feel the flames starting to prickle at your burning skin. But you make the mistake of flitting your gaze down to his mouth, only for half of a moment, but long enough for him to catch it. He grins, feeling like he’s won in some way.

“That’s okay, baby. You didn’t have to get all angry about it. If you wanted to kiss me, you coulda just said—”

“I hate you so fucking much,” you grumble to yourself, crossing your arms as you start to storm out of the room.

Eddie doesn’t let you get very far, though. His long legs rush the short distance over to you. He wraps two lanky arms around your frame and cages your own within his too tight embrace. You feel his chest rumble with the loud laugh that spills from his mouth, the breath of it on your skin when he noses at the junction between neck and shoulder.

“This is really fucking dumb,” he says with a hearty chuckle.

“Yeah, you are dumb, you’re right,” you monotone in return, not conceding to this imagined argument but not trying to squirm in his hold either.

“Hey! I’m trying to extend the olive branch here, alright?” 

“Whatever…”

He smacks a loud kiss on your shoulder and loosens his grip on you when he’s sure you’re not still angry enough to storm out. You are, though — still angry — but rather than leave, you turn around to face him. Your scowl is met with a beam from the boy ahead of you.

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree, alright, doll?” Eddie tells you with a shrug, trying his best to stop the argument without either of you having to admit you were wrong.

“I don’t know,” you lilt. “I think this might be a deal breaker for me, Eds.”

“Well, we certainly can’t have that…. What’ll happen to the band?” he teases.

You feign a sad sigh. “Guess you’ll have to find another bassist, Eds.”

“What can I do to make it up to you, doll? The fans’ll be real upset if the world’s best bassist is suddenly MIA.”

You purse your lips to the side and flit your eyes to the ceiling, pretending to think about his offer. Your attempt to ignore all the butterflies fluttering in your stomach is futile when he starts to rub his palms up and down your arm, in a soft and soothing rhythm. His touch quells your anger, puts out your fire without really even trying. No one can strike a flame within you, make it burn all big and bright, then douse it with cool, sparkling water quite like Eddie can.

It feels good not to be angry anymore. You’ll be able to laugh about it soon. 

Not now, though.

“Well, you’re going to take me to the drive-in tomorrow night and you’re gonna buy me all the snacks that I want—”

“I can do that,” he nods firmly.

“And halfway through the movie, I want to stop watching it and watch you while you eat me out in the back of your van—”

He sputters out a laugh. “I can definitely do that.”

“And until then, you’re gonna kiss me silly, Eddie Munson.”

The grin he flashes you then is no less teasing than it had been before, but it doesn’t make you nearly as angry. Instead, it makes you smile, too.

“I knew this was just a ploy to get me to makeout with you,” he lilts and presses the first of many kisses to the tip of your nose. “You don’t have to get all angry next time, alright? I’ll kiss you anytime you want.”

“Promise?” you wonder playfully, already knowing the answer. You just want to hear him say it.

“I can show you better than I can tell you,” he quips.

It takes no more than twenty seconds for him to get you into your bunk and squeeze in over top of you. In record time, he’s kissing you absolutely breathless — like he won’t be satisfied until he’s swallowed you whole. You want so desperately for him to. 

And if your mouth wasn’t kiss-bitten and half-numb, if your lungs weren’t screaming for air every time he kissed you, and your brain wasn’t aching for him to keep kissing you every time he stopped — you might’ve made some stupid joke. You would’ve teased him, told him how obedient he was to listen to you without question, just to drive him crazy.

But you can’t. Because he’s kissed you so insanely stupid, he’s the only thought in your head.

And if Eddie’s this perfect now — just moments after a stupid argument that had you both seeing red — you can’t imagine what he’ll be like tomorrow. As the rough pad of his tongue ruts against your own, you imagine how he’ll feel in between your legs when he’s got them bent over his shoulders in the back of his van.

#bug's blurb sleepover #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #published by bug #rockstar!eddie #eddie spaghetti drabble #st drabbles

[nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius]

TBB Incorrect Quotes, Part 19

Wrecker: *lifting weights* Omega: Wow… He's so intense!  Omega: I wonder what drives him.  Wrecker, internally: Oh I am going to be SO good at giving hugs.

Crosshair: What have I done wrong?!  Echo: Everything. For your entire life.

Omega: Guys! I found a 100 dollar bill! Omega: *looks around* ….Should I keep it? Echo: Omega, just do the right thing. Crosshair: And put in your bag. Echo: No—

Crosshair: I prevented a murder today. Omega: Really? That’s amazing! How did you do that? Crosshair: Self-control.

Mayday: When I first met you, I thought you were weird and annoying. Crosshair: And? Mayday: And you are.

Hunter: When I die I want Crosshair to lower me into my grave so he can let me down one last time.

Wrecker: I was just diagnosed with deez. Echo: Good, I hope it’s lethal.

Echo: Compliment me. Crosshair: You have eyes. Echo: Yeah, that works.

Echo: Don’t say a word.  Wrecker: Fergalicious.  Echo: Wrecker, I said no words.  Wrecker: Oh, I see how it works. Two weeks ago, we’re playing Scrabble, it’s not a word, now suddenly it is a word because it’s convenient for you.

Hunter: What do we say when life disappoints us?  Crosshair: Called it!  Hunter: No.

Crosshair: What is wrong with you? Hunter: Many, many things...  Hunter: And most of them are your fucking fault.

Tech: Hunter? I mixed redbull with coffee and now I can see sounds, should I worry?  Hunter: Tech, I swear to god—

Omega: I don’t want to talk about it.  Crosshair: Good, I don’t wanna hear about it.

Tech: I have a plan. Hunter: Good! As long as we aren’t breaking the law again, I’m open to hearing it. Tech: … Hunter: … Tech: I no longer have a plan.

Omega: What’s your biggest fear? Mayday: I am incredibly arachnophobic. Omega, under her breath: You don’t want spiders to get married?

Mayday: Is… Is that meant to be on fire?  Tech: No… not really.  Mayday: Are you going to do something about it?  Tech: Hm… nah.

Echo: What kinds of sounds annoy you?  Hunter: Are we talking real sounds or imaginary ones?  Echo, now interested: Lets say imaginary.  Hunter: Spiders wearing flip flops.

Mayday, looking at the squad: Okay, so I need to become a therapist faster.

Tech: Might I make a suggestion you possibly won’t like? Hunter: Do you make any other kind?

Crosshair: In alcohol’s defense, I’ve done some pretty dumb shit while completely sober too.

Jesse: I hate you! Crosshair: Wow! So much in common already!

Crosshair: Am I a good person? No. But do I try to be better every single day? Also no.

Tech, talking to Tarkin: With all due respect, which is none…

Tech: I have an idea. Echo: I have the hospital and Rex on speed dial.

Tech: Tech, I think we have a problem. Wrecker: What, the fire? Tech: No, the- wait, what fire? Wrecker: Oh forget about it, this sounds more interesting.

Crosshair: I was arrested for being too cool. Mayday: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

Wrecker: Do you even, cuddle, bro? Do you even lift, bro… each other up with kindness? Do you tell your loved ones that you care about them regardless of who is listening? DO YOU EVER RESOLVE CONFLICTS, EMOTIONAL ISSUES THROUGH COMPROMISE AND COMPASSION RATHER THAN ANGER AND DENIAL?!

Tech: Did you just refer to a knife as a “people-opener”? Crosshair: Crosshair: …Should I not have?

Tech: I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are. Hunter: Okay? Tech: … Tech: … Tech: Actually it’s gonna bug me if I don’t, so—

Mayday: You know what your problem is? Crosshair: I only have one?

Wrecker: If this plan goes down the drain, where should we regroup? Tech: The afterlife, I guess.

Wrecker: You look really stressed. Hunter: Haha, it’s the stress.

Crosshair: “Ladies and gentlemen” is unnecessarily gendered, overly formal, lengthy, and honestly, I’m falling asleep already. “Cowards” on the other hand, is inclusive to all genders, to the point, and dramatic.

Wrecker: I spy with my little eye something that begins with the letter “s”. Crosshair: *looks over at Tech and Phee* Crosshair: Is it “sexual tension”?

Hunter: I have a question. Wrecker: Shoot. Hunter: Is the S or C in scent silent? Echo: Fuck you, I’m going to be thinking about this all day. Wrecker: Okay well, cent is pronounced the same way as scent so I’m gonna say the S is silent. Hunter: Okay, but sent is also spelled the same way. Echo: The holonet says that the C was added in the late seventeenth century, so I guess the S is silent. Crosshair: Plot twist, both the S and the C are silent and the E actually makes the sss sound. Echo: Crosshair is not allowed to talk anymore.

Hunter: Let’s not Crosshair this into a worse situation than it already is. Crosshair: Did you just use my name as a verb?

Omega: Hey, do you know anyone who can teach me to play the trumpet? Tech: Why? Omega: I want to wander around playing it to annoy Crosshair. Tech: Technically, you don’t actually need to know how to play the trumpet well for that. Omega: Tech you have opened my eyes.

Hunter: Ok so, apparently the "bad vibes" I've been feeling are actually severe psychological distress.

Crosshair: I’m never donating blood ever again. Crosshair: The second you walk through the door, it’s just one invasive question after another! Crosshair: ‘Where did you get it?’ 'Why is it in a bucket?’ I mean, do you want it or not?

Wrecker: Are you alright? Crosshair: Short answer or long answer? Wrecker: Short? Crosshair: No. Wrecker: Long? Crosshair: Nooooooo.

#star wars #incorrect quotes #incorrect bad batch quotes #tbb incorrect quotes #the bad batch #tbb #featuring mayday because why not #and jesse because nobody else quite fit as well

[magnoliahwrites]

Lean On Me (Don’t Knock Me Over)

or: harry is a touring musician and you're here to interview him

feat: childhood friendship, flashbacks, friends to enemies to lovers,mention of panic attack/anxiety/puking

note: this is part one of a three-shot. Side note: I made up names for harry’s band, it’s an up and coming pop punk band so there’s that

Much like most things in life, when the paper slid through your desk, you immediately shoved it under the outgoing mail box.

anything that causes you stress immediately went there, a future problem for yourself.

It wasn't until the night before the show, when your manager turned best friend, Cindy sat in front of you tapping her new manicure on the desk in front of you that you even remembered it.

"I just don't see the big deal," she huffs, stopping the tapping of her nails long enough to push her blonde hair out of her eyes, "like, you two were kids. He probably doesn't even remember you. And besides, I have three people lined up who would literally kill you for this chance."

You groan, resisting the urge to fling your body on the floor and ahve a full body temper tantrum.

Instead, you act like an adult and throw a mini fit, throwing your head back and shoving the papers away from you.

"he'll remember me." you groan, rubbing your temples, "It was a small town."

"Good," Cindy shrugs, "Make him regret it, or whatever."

she pauses, and her voice drops, some of the hard that radiates off of her melts away for a second.

"I don't see what the big deal is still," she says quietly, "What happened?"

You remember the first time you heard him on the radio.

Driving down a crowded street in Cindy's car (the kind you could never even think of affording) the sun roof down, your hand out the window as the radio blasts, the sun beating down on your hand.

"This is 93.9 playing the hottest hits of the summer! To begin, we have a new single from Kennedy Curse, sure to get stuck in your head. They're new to the scene, but singer-"

Cindy all but squeals, leans forward to turn the dial on the radio up louder, "I love this band. l've been trying to get an interview with them for weeks.”

You snort as you drum your thumbs on the steering wheel, "Can't imagine it would be hard to get an interview with them-"

"Shh!" She hushes you, leans forward and turns the volume up until the car shakes under you.

"Chipped paint, Carol's gonna turn into dust-"

it was a reflex, a knee jerk reaction, something you couldn't stop. before you even knew what you were doing, you were leaning forward in your seat, slamming your hand against the volume button, immediately a silence falls over the two of you.

Cindy knows you've mentioned in passing an ex boyfriend, a singer, but haven't really elaborated on it. Now, it seems like you don't need to.

"So you'll do it?"

Cindy is all but squirming in her seat as she brings you back to the current.

The sigh is all the confirmation Cindy knows, letting out an ear piercing squeal again, "You won't regret it, i promise!"

She gets up to make her an escape, mentions something about transportation-

"I'll do it, but there has to be rules in place-" You're rubbing your temples, a headache already on the horizon, but Cindy isn't listening, long gone as she stops everyone in the hallway to mention the interview with the Kennedy Curse.

Backstage, harry fixes his hair in a broken mirror.

Something about ten years of bad luck, but he rations that's the problem for the person who broke it, not him-

A stage hand, over worked and underpaid, sticks his head backstage: "harry, Ten minutes.

Someone's here to see you-"

And the show is on.

The smirk finds his way to the corner of his lips, and it's game on. the harry who had a panic attack in the back room five minutes ago is long gone, definitely didn't puke into the garbage can earlier because of the nerves. Instead, it's now replaced by the harry he wants everyone to see; confident, cocky, bold-

"Fans already-"

And he rounds the corner and almost hits you with the door.

he speaks first. A reflex, like he's been searching for the name for months or years, waiitng for it to fall onto his lips again-

he speaks before he can stop himself, before he can hate himself for it he speaks before he can stop himself, before he can hate himself for it.

"Birdie."

The low whistle follows, some bird card be always associated with the nickname, for you always singing with him-even if you insisted you were bad.

it falls flat, feels wrong.

Not the cute nickname it was before, when you two would lie in the shared two sized mattress, harry’s feet falling off the edge of the bed, the sheets thrown over both of your heads for security;

“Birdie," he'd say, his voice low, eyelids heavy. even half asleep, the whistle followed, "I promise, to keep your side of the bed warm, always."

Under the sheets was vows between the two of you, the sillier the better, most of the time, but the hushed voices always told the truth.

Instead, you spoke back, his fingers over your lips, calloused from the non stop practicing, the yanking the garage door open at all hours of the night to practice: "I could find you in a crowd."

He laughs; it's lazy and low, like you both have all the time in the world, and he opens his mouth to say something about his height, but it lays heavy in the air as he kisses the crown of your head:

"And i'll always find you, Birdie."

Seeing him is jarring, to say the least.

The last visit was less than good, yelling and tears (from both of you) things said in the heat of the moment that keeps you both up and tossing and turning-

"It's just my normal name now, thanks." You say quickly, hoping it's dark enough backstage that he can't see the red spread across your face.

"Right," he nods, smirks as he leans against the wall, crosses his arms over his chest, "Well, birdie, I gotta say, you got a lot of nerve to wanna hear me sing after you tossed us into the gutter."

You snort, "Still the victim. i see nothings changed."

"Hilarious," he laughs without humor, takes a step toward you, eyes narrowed, that stupid fucking smirk still pulls at the side of his lips, "I see you're still following me around, hm?"

"God, I can't say I missed this. You're still an insufferable asshole-"

"An asshole you paid to see. So tell me, birdie, which of my songs do you like, hm? Still-"

You want to smack the smirk off his face. You dig your fingernails into your palm into you're sure they're going to bleed, leaving little half crescent moons in the middle of your palms, the same ones he use to study, trace over and commit to memory, kiss them better.

In some sick way, you were hoping you'd see each other and he'd apologize, come home-

"I'm just here for the interview," You shake the VIP lanyard around your neck in his face, "And then you never have to see me again."

His eyes dart to the lanyard and back to you, and for a second, he looks almost lost, like something hangs in the air that he wants to say-

"You have five minutes."

You snort, take the pencil from behind your ear,

"I'll make it two. We won't act like these are some deep songs of yours or anything-"

A local nobody band is opening, the drums are heavy and loud backstage, and the ponding begins the second you open your mouth, like it's planned.

harry leans in closer, grabs you by your elbow,

"Let's make a deal, birdie."

You act like you don't hear the low whistle fall out after the nickname.

"Listen-"

he cuts you off, "You listen to us and i'll do the interview, no bitching, after the show. we can go to the bus-"

the look you throw him is irritated and he huffs, holds his hands in the air, "Fine. I'll take you to a fuckin' restraaunt. I'll be on my best behavior, i'll have your manager eating out of your hand after this interview. Scouts honor."

He makes a show of crossing over his heart, holds his hand open in the air.

The smirk never leaves his face, even when your eyes narrow as he sets his hand between you two.

"Deal, birdie?"

You don't speak, eyes narrowed, but your hand slides into his like it never left.

It feels like you're making a deal with the devil.

#magnolia writes #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles one direction #one direction #one direction fic

[greynatomy]

Out of Love

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

another angsty fic. idk why but i’m always emotional on my bday and it’s my bday so you guys should be emotional with me.

idk where this came from but happy reading and lmk what y’all think

-grey

———

Lizzie and Yn have been together for three years. Best three and a half years of Yn’s life. She’s with the girl of her dreams, what more could she ask for?

For the past six months, she’s been planning something for Lizzie. Talking to many jewelers to get opinions on what ring designs. Even talked about it to your closest friend, basically a sister to you, Scarlett Johansson. In those six months, Lizzie noticed how secretive her girlfriend has been. She didn’t think anything of it at first, but every time she asks, she gets no explanation.

One day, walking to her usual coffee shop. Grabbing her coffee, she turns around, only to be hit by a force, spilling her hot coffee on them.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry.”

“You’re fine. I wasn’t paying atten— Lizzie?”

Elizabeth looks up.

“Robbie! Hey. How are you?”

“Soaked as of this moment.”

“I am so sorry about that.”

“It’s totally fine. It’s my fault anyway. How ‘bout I buy you another cup while we catch up?”

“I would love that.”

After that moment, they started to hang out more often. They didn’t end their relationship on bad terms years ago, so she thought, why not befriend him?

She would go over to his place, have movie nights, cook dinner and he would come over to her place whenever you were out doing whatever that Lizzie stopped questioning.

It was surprising that the paparazzi hadn’t caught them hanging out together out of the comfort and privacy of their homes.

You were out running some errands one afternoon, when you decided to get something to eat. Walking to yours and Lizzie’s favorite coffee shop, you see her sitting at a table through the window. You pull out your phone and decide to give her a call.

Lizzie hears her phone ring, seeing your name on the screen, she silences it and out it away just in time for Robbie to come back from the restroom, not knowing you were outside watching the scene play out.

“Who was that?” He asked her.

“No one important.” She replied.

You don’t think much of it, just thought that she was catching up with someone, not being able to clearly see who she was with, you went home instead.

Some time has passed. You have three weeks until your four year anniversary, meaning three weeks until you propose. You’ve picked up the ring from the jewelers and it looked even better as you hold the finished product in your hand. You’re excited and can’t wait to spend the rest of you life with Lizzie.

Going home earlier than you told Lizzie, you picked up both of your favorite takeout to surprise her with. Not seeing her as you walk in, you set up all the food at the bar, going up the stairs to cal her down. Nearing your shared bedroom, you hear an unfamiliar voice.

“Give me another chance, please.” It was a man’s voice.

“Robbie.” Isn’t that Lizzie’s ex? You ask yourself.

“I like you, hell I still love you and these past couple of months prove that you have feelings for me too. Meet me at our favorite restaurant tomorrow at six pm if you feel the same way I feel towards you.”

There’s a small pause.

“Okay.”

You couldn’t listen to anymore of the conversation. You quietly hurry down the stairs write a note and grab your keys and wallet and drive off, not having a destination in mind, just wanting to be as far away as possible.

Lizzie walks downstairs shortly after, hearing a car outside thinking it might be you. Once she gets down, she sees the table set up with food. Getting closer to the table, she sees a note.

Will be gone for a while. Don’t know how long. Don’t call.

-Yn

She throws the note away and reheat the food to eat for dinner.

Three Weeks Later

In those three weeks, Lizzie did meet up with Robbie at their favorite restaurant. They’ve been seeing each other regularly without Yn being in the way, even forgetting about her existence.

They decided to go for a long scenic drive, turning the radio on high at a popular station.

“We have some new stuff that we’re gonna be playing in a bit. One song is from an artist that has not released a song in a long time. So, without further ado this is Out of Love by Yn Yln.” Lizzie’s breath hitches and her body tenses. She hasn’t heard about her for a while.

I won't tell you I'm lonely

'Cause it may be selfish

I won't ask you to hold me

'Cause that won't mend what's helpless

There's not a thing I could say

Not a song I could sing

For your mind to change

Nothing can fill up the space

Won't ask you to stay

But let me ask you one thing

Oh, when did you fall out of love, out of love?

Oh, when did you fall out of love with me?

Did you find out about her and Robbie? How did you find out? When did you find out? When did she fall out of love with you? Did she actually fall out of love with you or just filling a missing void while you were gone?

I can't float in an ocean

That's already been drained

I won't cry at your feet now

I know my tears will fall in vain

There's not a thing I could say

Not a song I could sing

For your mind to change

Nothing can fill up the space

Won't ask you to stay

But let me ask you one thing

Robbie hasn’t said a word. He knew what they were doing was wrong, but he was too caught up in finally having the girl back that he didn’t care for the consequences.

Oh, when did you fall out of love, out of love?

Oh, when did you fall out of love with me?

No use wondering

Why your change in heart has wandered

So I'll ask you this question

'Cause it might help me sleep longer

Oh, when did you fall out of love, out of love?

Oh, when did you run out of love for me?

Out of love (out of love)

Out of love (out of love)

Out of love with me

Lizzie was now full on sobbing. It made her remember all of the times she was with you, all the times she listened to your music and made being away from you hurt a little less. How did cheating on you suddenly become something she resorted to?

“That was Out of Love by Yn Yln. Wait, what?” The radio host mutes himself for a bit. “We’ve just received some very horrible news. Music sensation Yn Yln just passed away a couple hours ago.” Elizabeth’s world just came crashing down. She just froze, not knowing how to react to this news. “Her representatives have spoken and released a statement. Stress Cardiomyopathy or Broken Heart Syndrome, is what they said. Wow, she was so young too. That’s just crazy. Rest in peace to such a young and talented musician. She’s touched our hearts with her music. Thank you for blessing us with one last song.”

One. Last. Song.

Those words struck something in her. The song that just played was the very last one you released before you died. And it was you questioning her love for you, or lack there of. She felt guilty. You died from a broken heart. A heart that Elizabeth broke.

She never got a call about you when you passed. It seemed as though you removed her as your emergency contact. She stopped spending time with Robbie. He tried comforting her, but she didn’t want to be anywhere near her living and breathing guilt. She told him to stop contacting him and to lose all contact with her.

Leading up to the day of your funeral, dressed in all black and made her way to where you friends and family were gathered. Scarlett, seeing her come closer, stepped away from her husband.

“You have some nerve showing your fucking face here!”

Lizzie froze in her spot. All the attention was on her now.

“You don’t deserve to be here. I don’t give a fuck if you’ve been together for years because YOU are the REASON she’s GONE! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HERE! FUCK YOU!” Scarlett was getting pulled away by Colin. “LET GO OF ME!”

Lizzie breaks down, crying of guilt. Scarlett breaks down, crying of anger.

Lizzie eventually decides to leave, not wanting to upset Scarlett more. She knew how close the two of you were, how you passing is harder for her.

“Wait!” She turns back around seeing Scarlett walk to her with a box. “These are go you. You don’t deserve any of it, but she wanted me to give this to you. I don’t know if she knew of her dying, but she knew she wasn’t gonna see you anymore.”

With that, she drives back to you shared home with all the horrible memories with Robbie and the fainted ones with you.

Opening the box she notices three things. A letter, a flash drive and a small velvet box. Opening the velvet box, she sees a beautiful emerald ring. Knowing instantly the meaning of this ring, tears flood out of her eyes. Unfolding the paper it reads…

Lizzie,

If you’re reading this, then Scarlett thought that it was a good time to give it to you. I don’t even know where to start.

Well, I found out. I came home early to surprise you with our favorite takeout and went upstairs to call you down for dinner and overheard your conversation with Robbie. I wanted to know if you went through with his deal and you did so I am writing this as a goodbye to our relationship or not a relationship anymore I guess and to you.

In the flash drive, there’s a song I wrote—

Putting the letter down, Lizzie quickly grabs her laptop and plugs in the dive. She sees one file. She clicks on it and a song plays.

(it’s Emerald Eyes by Anson Seabra you don’t have to play it, just the song I had in mind)

—and it was supposed to be played right before I got on one knee and asked you to spend the rest of our lives together.

(You know how much I love your eyes, so I decided to write a whole song about how they make me feel.)

But, that won’t be happening anymore. After four years of us being together, you still weren’t over Robbie. I just wish that you broke it off with me before getting back together with him. Make it hurt a little bit less.

The ring is something I’ve been working on or working with people on. Took six months. It’s why I was always gone and secretive, which ultimately made you go to another so this whole thing is actually my fault. I drove you away and I’m sorry for me, but glad that you found your way back to the person you love even if that’s not me.

Im just rambling on paper now. I won’t be coming back for any of my clothes or anything. Only took the essentials so you can throw everything out. This is goodbye, I guess. I love you. I always will even if you don’t love me back.

Forever yours,

Yn

How can you blame yourself for her infidelity, she asks herself. You loved her so much that you couldn’t even point the blame at her.

She wishes there was a way to apologize to you. To tell her everything she did was a mistake. Most importantly, she never fell out of love with you. You understood and loved her like no other. She’ll never find anyone to love her like how you loved her, not even Robbie could love her like you did.

She was too late. She can never gain back the time to be with you again, not even for a minute. You were gone, believing she fell out of love.

Lizzie took the ring out of the box and slid it on her finger.

“I do.”

But it’s too late.

#elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen imagines #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen #scarlett johansson imagine #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen oneshot #scarlet witch

[z0mbiefrank]

Transcript for Marina Toybina on the Designing Hollywood podcast

I've seen a couple people searching for a transcript of her discussing Gerard Way's stage costumes, so I have made one! Feel free to share/link as a resource. Popular quotes are bolded.

Link to source video. MCR's section starts around 22 minutes in.

The transcript is beneath the cut.

Interviewer: Well now you’ve just finished working with My Chemical Romance, which is a band that I dig. Gerard Way is also a comic book writer and artist, created the Umbrella Academy. So, first of all, how did you get that job? Because there’s a design, I mean the look of that band and what they like to do, what they’re influenced by, they’re not just your typical rock band. So what was it like? How did you get that job? You designed the whole tour right?

Marina: I Collaborated with the lead singer, yes, with Gerard. Uhm, okay everything kinda has it’s place in time. About 15 years ago, 15 to 20 years ago, I was a huge fan. I’m a rock girl at heart, and back then a lot of their music was like music to my soul. It got me through some of the harder times. A lot of my friends were musicians. I never saw them live, never could afford to get to their shows, but knew one day in my heart there probably will be an opportunity, they were in like my top 5 favorite bands. He was an artist I’ve always wanted to work with. This past summer, while I was designing So You Think You Can Dance, I just happened to turn on their music - nope- let me rewind I'm so sorry. So a year ago I was reading a release that they're coming back together on tour and they're playing LA on my birthday. I looked at my team and I was like "I'm gonna be at that show. We're gonna go to the show, we're all gonna go together." And I just jokingly said “I'll probably dress them!” A lot of things in my career have happened to manifestation, I'm a huge believer in that. I think my intentions were so clear into the universe. I believed in it so much. That happened a year ago. Then this past summer, I was driving to work, I was listening to their music and I just happened to text my agent. I'm like “You know I really want to get back into music. It's what I used to do. I used to do a lot of live performances. I used to do a lot of music videos. I need to feel that again, even though I'm surrounded with music all the time and I'm doing all these shows. But there was a disconnect in my career, to where it's like I love live entertainment.” And she’s like “Who do you want? Like are we going after pop stars?” And I'm like “No I've done all that. I want to go back to my roots. I want like Incubus or My Chemical Romance or Red Hot Chili Peppers. Get me back to rock and roll.” And she was like “Well, you know, they're touring, but it's probably… I don’t know, let's put it out there.” Then within two weeks I get an email from her like “Hey their managers want to meet with you, he wants to meet with you.” One of the biggest things about their aesthetic is one of my probably top three costume designers, Colleen Atwood, did their black parade album and it was so incredible. Back then, I was always a step behind. It's like they did The Black Parade and then I met the photographer later. Then I worked on a project with him. So it was always like some better-late-than-never I guess. And I'm like “I'm gonna work with her someday, I love her work. I've been told by many people we're a lot alike.” You know? And I'm like “Why not?” And so we get this email “He would like to take a meeting, see what we can do.” I never expected to do a tour, I just wanted to open this door of opportunity, to just collaborate, maybe do one thing together. And he just showed up in my studio and it was just an amazing artistic energy.

Interviewer: Were you starstruck?

Marina: I was trying to hold it together. I mean before they came in, I can't tell you how much I paced. Usually, there's like 15 - 20 people at my studio. This was the time and day that I was alone. I didn't know what to do. Of course, my expectations were just to present myself and see if I would be a good asset to them because I love their music and I love what he's about. Also, it’s not just the frontman for me, I think he's a brilliant artist. So there's a lot of things. I just wanted our worlds to merge somehow. Within the first five minutes of our conversation, I'm like “Oh I get his brain.” I told them my story. I told him that this is like 20 years in the making. You know, I probably sound like a crazy-fan costume designer. But we share ideas, he walked me through the concepts of things he wants to do on this particular tour and they haven't started doing the US leg of the tour. I didn't know if they had a designer. Then he did mention Colleen was doing something for him and I was like “Okay, how - can this be a triangle? You know? Can I come in in the picture?” It was just a beautiful collaboration. It was a genuine artist to artist conversation. Like “Let's do something interesting.” He walked me through his concepts, his ideas and I'm like “Alright well, let me come up with some creatives, see if we're on the same page.” Again, as much as I wanted to be like “Hey we're doing this tomorrow!” I also felt like it's important now in my career and possibly in his, to make sure the relationship is good, that this is the right artistic match to one another and… it worked! From there it was just amazing fittings, amazing collaboration and some iconic things that went viral!

Interviewer: I love hearing this from you because this is like the joyous experience of 'oh my god I dreamt of working with somebody and you finally get to do it'. But I want to take you back to that because I'm curious. How would that process even begin? You're working with somebody that you already know their music, you already know his vibe. And Colleen Atwood, who I've interviewed by the way, on the show, she's incredible. Our interview had to - she was in the middle of a work day, so it was only it was a short interview. But how does a collaboration like that work with somebody like Gerard Way? How do you guys start working together? How is that process?

Marina: For us, it was just like an initial conversation. I introduced myself, my work. They already did some background checking up to see where I stand, what my aesthetic was like. And I felt I was in a place in my life, in my career, where I was able to bring something new. That's where my confidence I think came from. At the same time I didn't want to change the artist that's in front of me. I think that's always so important for me when working with music. You're dealing with a fan base, and a reputation, an aesthetic approach that's far beyond any artistic reach of anybody new coming in. So for me it was having a conversation, understanding what characters he wanted to bring forward. This was a very playful tour. This wasn't about dressing up the whole band. This was about him being in this world of iconic characters. And how can we bring this to life? What can we do that's still very recognizable to his fans but at the same time a little bit of a shock value? But at the same time, I wanted him to be him, you know? He was in this beautiful place in his life and career where he felt great and felt confident and I just wanted to uplift that. We did our creative decks, went through the conversations of which characters we wanted to go with, these are the shows that he had. I knew which city, we kind of wanted to play off where was the right time. Halloween was right around the corner, what do we do? So it was like very strategic conversations but at the same time so much room to play and be creative. So I just gathered the top 10 characters that we had discussed and kind of started doing my own thing, and keeping him and the music in mind. Had an amazing fitting. I've never worked with an artist that's so clear. It was not just directional and very precise and very distinct on his own style, but it was clear for me when we were doing fittings, this is somebody that knows his body. This is somebody who knows his aesthetic on stage. This is somebody that knows how they're going to perform. So it just made it so much easier for me to be able to fall into his world and do the fittings like “Is this going to come off? Is this piece staying on? Are we going to do options? Is the character going to evolve on stage? Is the character going to come down on stage?” So all those conversations happen in our fittings and then I just packed it all up, with distinct notes, send them off, and then kept checking in, making sure everything was okay.

Interviewer: So when you had a direction for the characters, were you doing sketches first?

Marina: No, not at all. This was something that I felt like needed to have the research. It wasn't just about designing something on paper. When he mentioned to me “I wanted to be a vintage cheerleader” I'm like “Okay, what era are we in? 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, 40’s?” and then he was like “Find me something that's within possibly this color scheme.” The image that went viral when he did wear the cheer uniform, it was probably like 10 different vintage stores that we went to. And I'm like “Okay everything's size zero.” or like “What am I gonna do? This stuff doesn't exist anymore. If I get it from Etsy it's not going to come in time.” There's like so much and it happened to be as we were leaving one of the stores I looked on a sale rack and I saw this damaged, weird, vintage cheer dress that had no zipper, that had no hem. And I was like “I love this! I love this because I can reconstruct it. I can go and get the fabrics that we need to still keep it original and authentic. And that's how we start working. I build out a mannequin his size at my studio, put it on, we reshaped it, took the whole thing apart, reconstructed it to be his measurements, and still kept it authentic. After he wore it, the pattern for the actual thing was sold out. Fans loved it so much that we were getting notifications that people actually found the original pattern of this 1940s uniform and were buying it out.

Interviewer: That's crazy, okay!

Marina: Oh it's amazing! I think, to me, that's when things are just meant to be. When not only did my work translate into something beautiful on stage, but then he becomes this incredible persona on stage that then delivers the character and plays it off. We did that throughout every single look. Every single look when it became a fan favorite or craze.

Interviewer: In terms of time, what was the process when you first got the gig and then to the first show that was performing using your work? What was the time frame?

Marina: I think I had about a month to get it all together.

Interviewer: Wow! That’s not much!

Marina: Yeh and at the same time, I had another huge project in the works so it was going back and forth. But I could not tell you, I've had difficult projects in the past, I've had difficult times with artists, or finding our own language, or how to execute some things. This was so easy that time didn't matter to me. It was such a great collaboration, it flowed, like Bruce Lee would say, like water. It just made sense and no matter how difficult my other project was or what was going on at the same time, it was like oh this is the universe showing me this is how it's supposed to be. This is what's inspiring me. And at the end of the day, the one thing I told Gerard was “You made me fall in love with music again. You came into my life as an artist that I've admired and wanted to work with for almost 20 years. There was a big part of my beginning that made me look back at this now and be like “Oh that's what. That was that feeling that I had when I was 16 or 20.”

#my chemical romance #gerard way #marina toybina #mcr #my chem #designing hollywood podcast #let me know if i should change anything #ive never done a transcript before but i hope it helps!! #resource #transcript #op #interviews #costume design #cheerleader

[rottenaero]

Nancy’s been having…

A week.

She hadn’t expected for her classmates to be murdered, or for Max to be the next victim, hadn’t known she was going to be the given a terrible vision,

Didn’t expect to like Robin.

And not just in the friend way, which the taller had been absolutely giddy when Nancy first referred to her as.

She liked her.

Nancy Wheeler liked her in the way that Lucas likes Max, how Hopper liked Joyce before he died.

This girl- Who she’d only really talked to more than once this week, she liked her.

And of course, they talked a little during the whole star-court situation, but Nancy was…

Snappish, a bit rude.

She’d also been a bit rude when she first saw Steve and Robin.

Nancy had thought it was because it was Steve, he’d changed and maybe she missed him a bit, wished it was her instead of Robin.

It was the other way around though, no matter how much Eddie and Robin insisted about the tension between her and Steve.

And she really wishes they would lay off this whole thing. She’s not interested, and Steve clearly isn’t either!

No, Steves interested in keeping everyone safe, making sure Max has her headphones playing, and making sure Eddie is out of view.

And Nancy,

She should be interested in Jonathan, how he’s doing since they couldn’t get ahold of the Byers before they stole the Winnebago.

But she’s not.

She’s interested in Robin, and the way every-time she moves her head slightly all her hair shimmies. The way she rambles when she’s nervous or stressed. The way she’s been listening to Nancy this entire time, not questioning her, and backing her up while still having her own ideas.

Her freckles, the black polish chipping off her nails.

She doesn’t interrupt her when Nancy’s speaking. When Nancy sat down on the couch in the back of the winnebago she was quick to snag the seat next to her.

And it was so-

Well,

Nancy would be lying if she said her heart didn’t flutter a little every-time Robin leaned into her side, or made sure that she was feeling okay.

Even back when they barely knew each-other, in their sophomore year when Robin ran to check up on her when she started crying in the theater.

Threatening to kick Steve out when she thought he’d done something.

They barely knew each-other, and Robin still went out of her way.

Nancy smiles, glances at the taller girl out of the corner of her eye. She’s humming something that sounds alot like Total Eclipse of The Heart.

And Nancy has the most vivid memory of the marching band playing it at one of Steve’s football games a couple years ago.

The way the group moved in tandem, the sound.

Her eyes were drawn to the brass sections, the way they were loud, but not droning out the other instruments.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Nancy blinks, and Robins staring at her. “You know, if this is Vecna, I really think you should tell us.” She says.

And she worries, always a tad bit concerned about what’s happening, always a little in-tuned into everything.

“It’s not, just thinking.” Nancy defends, and Robin leans forward, brow quirked. “About what?”

“Uhm, things.”

Smooth Wheeler.

Her light brown hair sways as she leans forward even more, halfway off the couch at this point. “End of the world things, or, like-“ She glances at the front of the car, where Steve is trying the smack Eddie from where he sits behind him whilst also driving.

She looks back. “-Things things.”

“Robin, it’s not like that. Steve and I are just friends.”

Robin tilts back a bit so she’s sitting like a normal person. She holds up her hands. “And I totally get that! What about Jonathan?”

Nancy sighs, “I already told you about Jonathan and I, what about you?”

“Huh?”

“Do you have anyone?”

Robins eyes are wide, and she shuffles away slightly. “I’m, uh, really not comfortable with talking about my non-existent relationships with anyone but Steve.”

“Non-existent?” Nancy brows furrowed. “You’re super pretty though, guys don’t ask you out?” Her eyes widen. “Or, wait, maybe you just don’t wanna get with a guy, or anyone. Gosh, I’m so sorry, you don’t wanna talk about this and I’m pushing-“

“No!”

The vehicle quiets, and heads turn to them. “…Way is Breakfast Club better than Carrie! It’s a work of art.”

They all turn they heads back to what their doing, before Robin hunches her shoulders, and leans her head in a little. “You think that’s okay?” She whispers.

“Not wanting a relationship? Yeah, not everyone needs one.”

“No, no, I mean…” She takes a deep breath. “Not wanting to get with a guy.”

Please don’t go the wrong way please don’t go the wrong way.

“I mean, yeah.”

Robin smiles, nods, and backs up. “Great, excellent, superb even.”

And it’s not sarcastic. Nancy smiles, bumps her shoulder. “Got any cute girls?”

Robin flushes and her freckles disappear for a split second. She stammers and looks around.

Maybe she can enjoy this. Just for a little bit.

#this is the first ronance thing I’ve written so I’m so sorry for any mid characterizations!! theyre just so sweet I had to do something #stranger things #ronance #ronance ficlet #stranger things ficlet #nancy wheeler x robin buckley #robin buckley x nancy wheeler #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #crisisinverted17