#fandom imagines

[lostgirlfandom]

Roman Fingers

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x Female!Reader

Warnings: Harassment, maybe a little bit of threatening, afab reader

Words: 775

You were not one to hold back when someone was harassing you. Especially if someone touched you inappropriately.  

Which you were a little pissed because some asshole had decided to touch your ass while you getting something to drink at the table at this small mixer that was for some sorority you didn’t care to know the name of.  

One minute you were pouring some punched mixed alcohol into a solo cup, the next a hand smoothed itself over your ass as a guy you didn’t know pushed against your side.  

Pausing and narrowing your eyes into space in front of you, you processed the situation.

“Hey, baby... Aren’t you in my Physics class?” The sleaze asked you with a smirk. The smell of beer falling heavily from his breath and clothes. He stood at maybe 5’10 with a dark buzzcut. He wore a fraternity shirt that had some wet spots from sweat or beer, you couldn’t figure out.  

Pinching your lips together, you turned your head to him and stared into his glassy eyes with anger. “I’m gonna need you to take your hands off of me, bud.... before we have a problem.” You told him with a fake grin.  

He gave a scoffing laugh and have a drink grin as he swayed on the spot. “Oh, come on... Your body is ssso soft... I just want to run my hands over your body again, again.” He licked his lips.  

You opened your mouth to retort back but a voice chimed in. “The lady said to let go of her... I’m sure your simple mind could process at least that much.”  

The scum and you both turned your heads to the voice and you saw a guy standing there with a simple button up and jeans. A solo cup in one hand and the other shoved into his pocket. But what you took noticed of was his bright blue eyes that was lit with intelligence and smugness as he stared at the scum bucket.  

Blinking out of your thoughts, you grinned at him. “I got it handled.” You turned back to the sleaze and then proceeded to reach down with a hand and then gripped his junk tightly and then twisting slightly. He jumped and his face twisted into discomfort as his eyes cleared for a second of clarity. “Here’s what you’re gonna do... You’re gonna let me go, then you’re going to sit your ass in a corner... or leave all together! And never touch another woman inappropriately ever again... Clear?” The man’s breath had picked up but didn’t say anything as he was focused on the uncomfortable feeling of you twisting his junk.  

Sneering, you twisted harder, causing him to yelp and nod his head rapidly. “Clear... Clear!”  

Smiling, you let go of him causing him to sigh in relief and slouch down. He then hurriedly took off past the other guy that had tried to come to your rescue. Both of you watching him as he basically ran out the door.  

The blue-eyed knight watched him in amusement as he took a sip of his drink before turning back to you. You sighed and then looked back at the guy and took more of his features in. His blonde hair was ruffled like he just woke up, but you kept focusing on his eyes that you noticed was looking you up and down slowly. Taking in your outfit and your shape and then your hair and eyes.  

He gave you smirk as you tilted your head. “Looks like you didn’t need me after all.”  

You chuckled and looked down at the ground, pushing your chin to your chest. Shrugging, “I know how to take care of myself when needed.”  

You looked up from underneath your eyelashes and looked at him as he kept looking you up and down with a small smug smirk on his lips.  

Blinking, you know he looked familiar and then thinking about it, you know why. “You’re in a couple of Physics classes... and Linear Algebra class.” You lifted your head back up and smiled at him.  

His eyes lit up at your smile and words. “Yeah... Yeah you are. I knew you were familiar.” He blinked, licking his lips and shaking his head before putting his hand out for a hand shake. “Lip... Lip Gallagher.” He told you with a grin.  

“Y/N Y/L/N” You shook his hand.  

There was a small comfortable silence after you let his hand go. But you both were too busy observing the other.  

He let a smirk fall on his lips as he asked you, “So, wanna get out of here?”  

[reina-writes]

Simon "Ghost" Riley being your bodyguard would include [part 1]

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!reader

Warnings: mention of kidnapping, mention of arms dealing.

A/N: This is headcanon "Simon Riley being your bodyguard would include", part 1/3: How Simon Riley got recruited to be your bodyguard.

What do you think, should I turn this into full fic?

Captain Price standing by the large map of the world, studying various markers and intel reports. Simon entering the room, his posture disciplined as he salutes the captain.

"Simon, good that you're here. I've got a new assignment for you."

Price telling about the mission briefly: the L/N family is under threat as their only child has become the target of some dangerous individuals. They're already attempted to kidnap you once and it's no doubt they will try again.

It turns out that during one of Task Force 141's previous missions, they had encountered a high-ranking member of the illegal arms trade network that now threatens the L/N family. This mission involved disrupting a major arms deal orchestrated by the network.

In the aftermath of that mission, Task Force 141 obtained valuable intel that revealed the existence of a larger, more dangerous network. However, the intel wasn't complete and they needed more information to fully dismantle the operation.

It's during their ongoing investigation that they discover the connection between the L/N family and the arms trade network.

During that ongoing investigation happened the first attempt of kidnapping.

The first kidnapping attempt further solidified the need for your protection and Task Force 141 realized just how grave the situation had become. The perpetrators were not just ordinary criminals; they were part of a well-connected and dangerous network with access to advanced weaponry and resources.

This is why Price invited Simon into his office.

Simon's eyes narrowing slighty, registering the seriousness of the situation. "What my job would be, sir?"

Captain Price looks at Simon, his expression unwavering. He knows the man and he also knows that Simon Riley is the best man for this mission.

"Your job, Simon, is to be Y/N's shadow. You're their bodyguard. You'll be with them at all times, ensuring their safety and acting as their first line of defense."

Simon's jaw clenching as he takes in the responsibility. He can't shake the image of you being a typical party person, who is born into wealth and privilege, seemingly clueless about the dangers of lurking in the shadows.

"Sir, I understand the importance of this mission. But I'm not a bodyguard, I'm a soldier. I'm trained to fight, not to hold someone's hand. If you want someone to babysit them, you're looking at the wrong guy."

Price raising an eyebrow and being seemingly amused by Simon's resistance.

"You might be a soldier, but you're also one of the best, Simon. I handpicked you for this mission because I trust your instincts, your combat skills, and your ability to adapt to any situation."

Simon sighing as he feels the weight of captain's trust on his shoulders.

"With all due respect, sir, this feels like a waste of my skills. Protecting a pampered heir doesn't exactly scream 'special forces.'"

Captain Price's expression softens slightly, understanding Simon's frustration. "I know it's not your usual mission, but I need you to put aside your preconceptions about Y/N L/N. They are not what they appear to be on the surface."

Simon's curiosity was piqued, but he remains skeptical. "What do you mean, sir?"

Captain Price leaning in, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"You'll see."

The smirk on Price's face as Simon blinks in surprise.

Simon knows he doesn't have any options but to give in. It's a sense of duty and responsibility.

"I won't let you down, sir. I'll protect them with everything I've got."

After this Simon joined the rest of the team in the briefing room, where Captain Price goes over the details of the mission, laying out their plan to protect you and gather more intel on the arms trade network.

Simon couldn't help but feel a mix of determination and unease. He knew that this mission was not going to be a walk in the park. Your life depended on their success and he had to set aside his reservations and focus on the task at hand.

The team would work in shifts to ensure round-the-clock surveillance on you, setting up secure communication channels and keeping you safe.

It was clear that this job would require Simon's attention 24/7 and he would be the one responsible of your safety. Where you would go, he'ld go. And for what Simon understood, your social calendar was full of events and parties.

After the briefing Soap gave Simon a knowing look.

"Looks like you've got yourself a little spark to protect, Ghost."

[muschiettistrashmouth]

I don't wanna be your friend I wanna kiss your lips - Hercule Poirot

Warnings: maybe possible spoilers for A Haunting in Venice. Also, my mother tongue isn't English so there'll be some errors probably.

Words: 539

Requested: no

Reader is frustrated for how long she wants to kiss Poirot.

Here's part two.

When Ariadne Oliver asked Hercule Poirot for help, he asked you to come along. He didn't believe in ghosts, but you seemed amazed by the idea and just seeing you smile made the man's heart warm.

The night that was supposed to be fun soon took the opposite direction. The medium, Mrs Reynolds, was dead. Poirot locked all the exits and the rain outside beat hard against the windows.

Your arms had goose bumps, even with your long-sleeved dress, the wind was still chilling.

"How are you my dear?" Poirot asked, gently touching your shoulder.

"Im great..." your face heated up, cheeks were pink. It was always like this when you were together. Just one touch or look from him and your face would heat up. For years you had dreamed of feeling his lips on yours, that intimate touch that only his ex had the pleasure of feeling. The sensation was not new, but once again it was ignored due to your shyness and lack of courage and obviously, because of the crime that had occurred.

The legend was that the ghosts of the children at the orphanage killed them in revenge for what had happened to them, but of course Poirot did not believe this. Not that you believed in ghosts, but everything seemed to fit the legend so well.

*

The detective was doing his individual interviews with everyone present. You wanted to know how he was after they tried to drown him in the bowl of apples. You were really worried about him.

"Y/N" Ariadne caught your attention.

You were in the room where they tried to drown Poirot, you were distracted, staring at the apples floating in the water.

"Yes?" Your gaze returned to the writer's face.

"Have you guys ever...?" She moved her hands in front of her body, not really knowing if she was crossing some barrier she shouldn't have, but she didn't really care about it at the moment.

"Evrr... what?" Your expression was confused.

"Well, you two are very close, I was wondering if you've ever, you know, kissed." Ariadne felt like a little girl at school talking about these things.

"..." your face became even redder. "N-no, it's so hard with the whole Katherine thing. And sometimes I just want to…" a little cry of frustration left your throat before you could stop it.

Apparently your scream was louder than expected, because in a matter of seconds Poirot and everyone else in the house burst through the door, scaring you and Ariadne.

"Are you okay?" The detective's hands cupped your face, his face was steeped in worry.

"I am, it was just..." you swallowed, asking Ariadne for help with a look.

"We swore we saw a ghost!" This was the worst excuse for that moment, you didn't want to look foolish in his presence.

He giggled. GIGGLED! and held your shoulders affectionately.

"It's okay. Come on, maybe if you help me you won't be so scared."

Little did he know that he was torturing you more than helping. Well, maybe one day your courage would arise and you would finally kiss him and tell him how much you loved him. Until then, helping him would be enough for you.

[rewritethisstxry]

May I request just some fluff, just Karl Heisenberg and female reader hanging out and maybe talking about their futures…brownie points if they mention kids? Some tooth rotting fluff were two love bugs just laugh and joke around and talk?

Thank you for this request! Sorry about the delay. I had it written up and felt that it just wasn't fluffy enough at first, ya know? I'm still not sure it is, but I hope you enjoy!

How it Feels to Feel at All

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x female character

Word count: 1054

The sky was clear for once. Not a cloud in sight, which made for perfect viewing. The temperature was cool but not cold. The sort of evening where it was easy, to forget the outside world and everything that they had going on. Nights like this, it was easy to get caught up in talking, in the potential plans for the future. It was in these moments that Karl allowed himself that sliver of hope that there was actually a future for him, for them. There was a chance of something beyond all of this, outside the control of Miranda. It was almost easy to fall into the discussion when he could see it all. The way she spoke, the hope in her voice, the happiness that flashed across her face at the prospects of what could come, What was to come. She hadn't lost that hope yet. Then again. She hadn't been here nearly as long as Karl had or seen half of the shit that Miranda was capable of. Thoughts for another time.

There was no stopping the genuine smile that crossed his lips as he listened to the random ramblings coming from his companion.

"You sound very sure of that Cupcake," he murmured, the words tinged with a deep fondness. The only good thing in his miserable life was the woman sitting beside him.

"Because I know it's true," she laughed softly. "Because it's what you deserve after all of this." She leaned back further against the section of roof they were currently resting on. There was a brief pause where her eyes moved along the sky overhead, taking in the stars. 

 "I guess," he offered in return, unable to tear his eyes from her. She was gorgeous no matter what situation she was in. Concentrated, she scrunched up her nose. Worried, there was a slight furrow to her brow that just accented her eyes. Hell, even angry Karl was able to see her beauty. Maybe even a little more so in those moments as She was a force to contend with. But It was these moments where she was relaxed, genuinely enjoyed a moment without the weight of their shared task hanging so heavily on their shoulders that Karl found his twisted heart wanting to beat out of his chest. The gentle curl of her lips that hinted at a smile, the way that there seemed to be just the softest hint of promise that shore in her eyes, even when her attention was focused on the sky above. She was a masterpiece. No matter what she thought.

"Well, I'll just have to have enough confidence for the both of us then," she teased as she nudged his shoulder lightly with her own. "Besides, maybe it's a secret dream of mine to see you in something besides the trench coat and suspenders." At that, he laughed outright. 

"And what would you have me in?" Her head cocked to the side as she turned her attention to him. Kal had a moment where his breath caught, though he hid it well.

"I wouldn't mind seeing you in some jeans and a flannel. Think it would look good on you." For a second time, she paused, though this time, her eyes squinted as she took him in. Her imagination clearly was working overtime as She pictured what she had said she wanted to see him in. It was enough to bring another laugh out of him as he threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "A proper garage. I'm sure that we can find plenty for you to do. There's a lot to catch upon. And I'm sure that with your little metalworking gift, you would have a blast in a proper garage. Hell, with your talent, custom work would be simple. And a huge money maker. If you wanted that. Once we are out of here, the choices are all yours. Anything you wanna do or not do." 

"You know, that shit is hard to imagine. Actual freedom. Wanted it for so long." Now it was so close that he could taste it. It had been hard work, and a lot of it had been driven by him, but he wouldn't be as far along as he was without her. She had helped kick everything into high gear. "Wouldn't be here without you, though." She reached across his body to grab ahold of his other hard, fingers gently intertwining. The barest of squeezes given, an unspoken promise for a moment that didn't need words.

"You know, you haven't told me what you want once we are out of here. You always stay quiet as I imagine what we will do. I know you are focused on the here and now." Sometimes it was easier that way. Not to focus on what may never come. Distractions were far too dangerous. But, he couldn't deny that the further they got, the more those sorts of thoughts leaked into his consciousness. What harm was there in sharing?

"Well, shit. Probably because I haven't given it a lot of thought. Really, none before you, sweetheart. The only thought I could focus on was finishing the bitch. Everything else after didn't matter much. Especially since I wasn't even sure I would survive the final push. I was okay with that if it meant that she was dead." Karl paused, thinking carefully on how he wanted to word himself next. He wasn't so sure that he was one who could have some sort of life in the world outside of this, Notafter so many years. She made him second guess all of that though, made him more than willing to give it a go. "A quiet place just for us, not too big but not too small that it feels confining. Maybe a bit out of a city, a space that is just ours. Enough room to have that library I know you dream about. I don't really know what I want for myself outside of this. Just know that I want you there with me to figure it out." He felt the warmth of her lips against his scruffy cheek before realizing she had moved.

"I'm not going anywhere, ever. I'm with you now and forever, Karl. I love you."

"I love you too, Cupcake."

[iveseenstrangerthings]

mixed signals - a Steve Harrington imagine

summary: (pre season 4) Steve x fem!reader. She/her pronouns, no major physical descriptions and there is a mixture of angst and fluff.

Steve and the reader are at a party together, they have been friends for a while and they obviously have feelings, but the reader feels Steve has been giving her some mixed messages... 

warnings: drinking, drunkenness, swearing and some slight creepiness from a male character.

word count: 3.1k

note: this imagine is based from the prompt, “How much have you had to drink?” and I LOVE reading imagines like this. It’s kind of your typical cheesy, angsty, fluffy imagine but I loved writing it so, I hope it is okay!! Feel free to request something if you would like :) **not my gif**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every once in a while, Steve liked to throw one of his parties, where he invited a bunch of people and managed to get enough alcohol to last a long while. You would roll your eyes when he mentioned he was planning one, it seemed very ‘old’ Steve. Throwing parties, drinking, doing things that he would probably regret... but you loved them all the same.

You arrive earlier than the rest of the party with Robin, Nancy and Jonathan. Everyone was carrying something, whether that be duvets/pillows, as you would all usually stay the night following one of his infamous get togethers, or alcohol.

The sun was just starting to slope lazily through the sky, casting a warm glow onto everything in sight. Your favourite time of the day. You stopped a minute, leaning the crate of beers onto your thigh as you looked at the way the light was falling in through the trees that surrounded the Harrington house.

“I got those.” You hear the all familiar sound of Steve’s voice bounding towards you, snapping you out of your daze, as Steve was coming to take the crate from you. “All for me?” He grins, looking at the crate and then to you, “You shouldn’t have.” You give him a nudge in the arm, smiling back at him, shaking your head slightly at his attempt at humour. You both wander back up to the house, the others meandering ahead. The summer night was still, and it made the crunch of the gravel beneath your shoes seem louder.

“You expecting everybody?” You ask as you approach the doorway, Steve stopping to let you in first.

“Pretty much.” He stoops to gently place the crate on the floor then stands back upright, dusting his hands off, “Should be good!” he smiles wide. You laugh slightly, enjoying his excitement.

 Robin came ready so she spends her time having a few drinks with Steve and Jonathan downstairs whilst you and Nancy go upstairs to finish off getting ready. Steve brought you both a drink up for whilst you were getting ready, making a sarcastic comment about the length of time it would take. You both said nothing but replied with an exasperated eye roll. “I’m gonna take my damn time, thank you very much.” You say to Nancy once he’s left, having a long swig of your drink. You both get ready in silence for a few minutes, hearing the familiar tones of music start to drift upstairs.

“Are you going to talk to him tonight?” Nancy asks, quite out of the blue it makes you pause and look at her. You cock your head to the side and narrow your eyes slightly, trying not to smile. “Talk to…?” Inside, you cringe. You know that everyone else knows, what you hope to God is that he doesn’t know. She puts her hands down onto the counter, almost in disbelief that you were even asking such a question. “Come on, (y/n).” She laughs, shaking her head and going back to putting her necklace on, concentrating to make sure it’s the right way round. “I know you, and I know what you’re thinking. Have a little faith in it.” She smiles warmly at you, and you feel grateful for her encouragement. Your relationship with Steve has been a real mystery in your friendship group. Everyone can see that you both get along well, and you obviously have feelings for each other, deep feelings. You sometimes feel like he feels the same, he spends a lot of time with you, he offers you rides everywhere, he is physically affectionate at times, but yet has never broached the subject of a relationship with you. When you sit and deep the situation at times, it brings you such an annoyance that you feel like cursing him out.

You shrug your shoulders, a knot forming in your stomach, one that usually appears when you think of the prospect of Steve knowing how you feel. “I dunno. I might. See what the Dutch courage does to me.”

 A few hours into the party and the house is warm with everyone’s bustling bodies and loud chatter. You spent what felt like an agonizingly long time chatting to Jeremy, who is in your Chemistry class, he seemed interested in you but you couldn’t entertain it, so you sloped off for another drink whilst the conversation was, thankfully, interrupted. You pop the top off another beer with a satisfying fizz and take a big mouthful. Wincing slightly at the warmth of the liquid. You know for a fact your eyes have become dazed and your cheeks flushed, a tell-tale sign you are enjoying the time with your beers. Your head almost feels light, as if it wasn’t fully attached to your neck and you feel good. A hand on the small of your back brings you back into the room and you turn your head hoping it wasn’t Jeremy. Thank God..

“Hey, you.” Steve is standing awfully close, and you can smell the alcohol that radiates from him. You’re both standing in the busy kitchen and his hand stays on your back, he has to lean in to talk in your ear over all the noise. “I saw you chatting with Jeremy.” He leans back and wiggles his eyebrows, grinning at you widely. You laugh and shake your head, swigging your beer.

“That guy is so far up his own ass, it is unbelievable.” You say, probably a tad too loud to combat the noise.

Steve copies and takes a long drink from his own, swallowing quickly then wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb before leaning back in to talk to you, “You should go for it, you looked good together.” Immediately, your brows furrowed together, and your lips puckered out, in severe disagreement. Why was he encouraging it? He laughs, “No really, you should. I can totally see it. It would do you good, you know. Being with someone like that.”

“I don’t think so.” You let out a small breath and look at him right in the face. “Why do you say that?” You ask with genuine curiosity, your eyebrows staying knitted together. He shrugs, drinking, his eyes too bear the same look. “I might not want to be with someone like that.” You retort back, finishing off the rest of your beer and going for another. You snap it open with more force than anticipated and you clumsily spill the drink onto the counter. The alcohol you’ve consumed in the night all seems to come at once and that lightheaded feeling only intensifies and you reach across for some paper to mop up your drink, but Steve’s beaten you to it and is already wiping it up. Once he tosses the paper into the bin, he replaces his hand on the small of your back, “Hey, how much have you had to drink?” He asks with a sense of concern. But the condescending tone in his voice pisses you off so you just place a hand on his chest to create some distance and mumble, “Fuck off, Steve.” as you turn around to head out the back, leaving him slightly dumbfounded as to what on Earth had just happened.

 Before he can leave the kitchen, Robin is beside him with a grimaced look on her face. “Nice one.” She puffs air from her mouth. Steve’s hands shoot up in the air, “What did I do?!” He says defensively. Robin just laughs.

“I actually don’t know what happened I just came in.” She grabs a handful of pretzels and settles against the counter. “What did you guys talk about?” She pops a couple in her mouth and chews on them whilst Steve contemplates the conversation.

He shrugs quickly and then stutters, “I actually, I, I genuinely don’t know what I could’ve said to get that reaction.” He replays the conversation in his head, “I just went over to her, commented that I had seen her chatting with Jeremy and I dunno I guess tried to say she would be good with him.”

Robin stops chewing and extends her neck out, almost in disbelief as her eyes go wide, “Good as in, “Hey you guys should be friends?” or good as in, “Hey you guys should get married and have babies?””

Steve looks back at Robin, dumfounded. Annoyingly realising he just tried to convince you, the person he ultimately has a lot of deep, unannounced feelings for, to be with someone else. Robin shoves the remaining pretzels in her mouth and works on chewing them for a minute whilst she lets Steve mull over his mistake. Once she’s finished, she leans into him, “Look,” she places a reassuring hand on his back whilst Steve leans onto the counter, staring into space, “We all know, buddy.” She lets that idea air for a short time. “But if you want to get anywhere with her, trying to ger her off with dickass over there isn’t going to set you off to a great start.” She pats his back and then wanders back into the thick of the living room, leaving Steve to grab another drink.

 Outside, the sun has long settled low for the night and the air is still warm. The sky is deep and dark with the odd star peeking through the few clouds that scatter across the vast space above you. You huff a deep sigh, realising you most likely just majorly overreacted. You tip back the last bit of beer in your bottle then place it down gently next to you. You sit on one of the loungers, near the back of the garden as the patio gets busy with people milling around, enjoying the warm summer night and you kick yourself for allowing your feelings to create an overreaction that led you to being out here alone. Even though you’re sat still, you feel as though you’re on a boat. Riding over small, gentle waves but enough to rock you back and forth. “Went in too hard, too fast.” You mumble to yourself, referring to the volume of alcohol you consumed in a short space of time. As you rest your head between your hands with your arms propped up on your knees you hear approaching footsteps behind you, moving oddly slowly. You sit up and turn around, put off at how slowly they really are going. “Who you talking to?” It’s Jeremy, your stomach flips as he comes closer and sits down beside you.

“Just getting some air.” You realise he has sat annoying close to you. “Do you mind?” You snap, “I just came out to get some air, so I’d appreciate some space.”

He stays sat next to you and your blood boils, you wait a few more seconds to see if he’s just too drunk to register what you said, or he’s just damn well ignored you as he starts to move his hand around your shoulders. “Woah, no no.” You say, pushing his arm away. You don’t want to stand up for fear the wavy feeling that is inhabiting your body will cause you to topple over. “Kindly, piss off.” You raise your voice slightly, to which a few people turn their heads in your direction. Including Steve, who came out to chat to a few guys from the year below. At the sight of this, he makes his way over, realising that the situation could get messy, he realises you will probably be pissed off at him if he intervenes, but right now he doesn’t see any other option.

“Okay dude, she’s asked you nicely. Let’s go.” He stands tall over Jeremy who lets out a defeated huff of air, standing up to go.

He walks past Steve but purposefully knocks their shoulders together, hard. He’s glad that’s all he got; he was half expecting a punch.

“I had it, Steve.” You say, annoyed that he came to you. Mentally, he laughs as he realised that’s exactly what your reaction would be.

“Really? Looked like you had it all under control there, (y/n).” He looks down at your glazed look, the light of the pool reflecting off your face. You look sad, and that hurts him. He sits down next to you, and you don’t now have the energy to tell him to fuck off, again. “I’m sorry.” He says, keeping a bit of distance between the pair of you.

 You blink slowly, the energetic buzz from the alcohol now worn off, a feeling of tiredness mixed with a deep sad feeling in your tummy makes you feel like you could cry. “I just don’t get it.” You say quietly for fear you will cry. Steve waits, he doesn’t want to ask anything as he knows you’ll explain eventually. You rub your forehead with the tips of your fingers, knowing that tomorrow you are most likely going to regret having this conversation, but it needs to be said. “I don’t get us to be honest.” You look up at him and he’s looking right back at you. “I love spending time with you, I enjoy when we do things together and I really feel these past few months I’ve been hoping you’ve felt the same.” Steve looks like he’s about to say something, so you quickly start talking again, “But, then like tonight… you try and get me off with fucking Jeremy? I mean seriously?” Your voice has raised ever so slightly with your pent-up feelings of anger, but Steve almost doesn’t want to tell you to quieten down. You slump back down and place your head in your hands, “It’s the mixed signals I hate, and I don’t like it when you give me them. You stand in the kitchen with your arm around me whilst also telling me I should go for someone else?” The way your tone of voice went up at the end made it seem like you’d phrased it as a question. You realised you had been speaking down towards the ground, so you move your head up to speak to him. Your head comes up and you turn to face him. “If you cared about me, you wouldn’t do that.”

You study his face, now waiting for him to answer. He runs a hand through his hair, you can tell he feels bad. “I honestly don’t know why I said that.” He sighs and you just want to lean over onto him and wish this night never happened. But, then you most likely wouldn’t be having this conversation so, every cloud…

And, you know he genuinely means everything he says, so you will him silently to keep talking. “I care about you, so much. I really do.” You bite the inside of your cheek, anxious that there is a huge ‘but’ coming soon. “And of course, I love spending time with you. I just, how I feel about you, it scares me because I really, really like you. And there’s so much pressure from everyone because they can so obviously tell.” You nod along in agreement, “I always worried you didn’t feel the same.” He ends with a shrug.

“I think we have just been seriously miscommunicating with each other.” You half laugh, the situation seeming ridiculous as everyone else seemed to have a better idea of yours and Steve’s relationship than you and Steve.

“Seriously though, I am sorry for before. I obviously don’t want you to be with anyone else. I want you to be with me, I want us to be together, (y/n).”

You wonder what his heart feels like at this moment because yours is beating extremely fast you can almost hear it thumping in your ears. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face and you hang your head down and giggle a little, suddenly feeling giddy that those words just came from his mouth. He nudges you softly and laughs, “Don’t leave me hanging.”

You look back up and smile at him, his eyes looking back at you, studying your face and the way your cheeks flush red, “I have wanted to hear you say that for so long.”

“Really? I never would have guessed, honestly.” He jokes with you and scoots closer putting both arms around you and rocking you gently, you bring your hands up to hold his arm that is resting just beneath your chin and your body gently fits into place with his, albeit the plastic sun-loungers aren’t the most comfortable of places.

“I um-“ you start, clearing your throat, “I want us to be together, too.” Your words hang heavy in the air, but not in an unpleasant way. And both of you feel there has been a weight lifted from your shoulders. Your feelings had most likely always been clear, but now it felt right that you were both on the same page.

You move your head from Steve’s shoulder and realise how close your faces are, neither of you feel the need to ask for permission or a go ahead, you had said enough. His hand moves from your shoulder and onto the side of your head, his thumb resting gently on your cheek, stroking it gently before pulling you closer to him. Your grip on his arm tightens as your lips brush across each other, slowly starting to move in sync with one another. He holds you so close as you share your first kiss, both of you had been longing for this moment for too long. Before you get too carried away, you pull away and place your head on his shoulder. Blushing immensely, it was a good kiss.

You feel Steve laugh, like he does when he thinks of something funny. “Jeremy is gonna be so pissed.” And with that you burst out laughing. So thankful that the night has ended like this.

“I am so glad we talked that through, though. In all seriousness, I was beginning to think you just weren’t interested in me.” You become aware of a chill in the air and try to wrap Steve’s arms closer around you.

“Pfft,” he blows air through his lips, “you kidding me? I don’t think I’ve ever not been interested in you.” He contemplates his next question, worrying it would be too soon, but then he realises he has just kissed you and confessed how he feels so, what’s to lose? “I want us to be in a relationship.” He says outright. “Just us two, me and you.”

You laugh, “I think that’s what a relationship is, Steve.”

He is quick to reply, with a grin, “Actually I hear some people have those open relationships now, you know?” He squeezes your shoulder slightly.

Keeping the running joke of the evening going, you’re quick to reply with, “Oh really?” You smirk, “Hm, shall we ask Jeremy?”

His chest vibrates with laughter, and you wish you could stay in this moment. “No seriously, will you be my girlfriend?”

You lean up to kiss him gently, pulling away and holding the back of his head with your hand, “Obviously.”

[ratedaskew]

yall stay safe out there xoxo. - mod NOTHING can kill the grimace

[nightingale2004]

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DO AN ASSASINS CREED PERCY JACKSON AU OR CROSSOVER?!?!?!?

[berzahoes]

I DON’T WRITE SMUT!!

hi, i’m jules and welcome to my blog! 🇲🇽i love horror movies, ghost adventures and so many bands that i can’t even remember all of them (i am not joking) i’m 21 and a may taurus. english is not my first language so if there’s any mistakes, please don’t be mean about it <3

hate will be blocked!!

masterlist

who i write for

tiktok: midnightm4ss

[losers-clvb]

regrets // sirius black

pairing: post-azkaban!sirius black x female!reader

content: frustration, arguing, wounds, death, grief, pregnancy

summary: you’re pregnant with sirius’ child and the two of you are cooking dinner when buckbeak is mysteriously injured. against sirius’ wishes you attempt to help tend to the creature’s wound. whilst arguing with you to let him deal with it, buckbeak accidentally bucks up and you receive a gash in your arm. you run off in tears after sirius yells at you. that’s when sirius is called to the ministry to save harry, and though he tries to apologize when he leaves, you’re too stubborn to reply.

note: i originally posted this on a different account, but i'm switching it over to make this my main account.

---------------------------------------------

"You shouldn't be in here." You heard the voice of your husband scold you slightly.

Just minutes ago, you had both been trying making dinner for two, which wasn't going too well. It was a new thing for both of you. Sirius had always had food made for him, whether it was by a house-elf or a fellow magic-maker. Your father was a Muggle and had been brought up by a single mother, so he taught you the essential cooking skills, but over the summer Molly had been so intent on keeping you off your feet when the announcement of your pregnancy came about that you had become a bit rusty.

But then you both had heard Buckbeard let out a sharp cry of pain. Sirius rushed up the stairs with you waddling closely behind him to find an angry hippogriff with a deep gash. Sirius tried pushing you out of the room to keep you from getting injured, but you had refused due to the pure fact that you had become too fond of the creature to leave. Now, you were attempting the clean out the wound while Sirius tried to hold him still.

"I can do this myself." He grumbled.

"Just let me help. I've almost got it." You replied with, dabbing at the cut.

A shriek and a yell later and you were leaning against a wall holding your upper arm. Blood coated your fingers and was dripping onto the ground along with your teardrops. Sirius rushed to you, shaking his head as he gently grabbed your arm.

"You should have listened to me." He sighed out. "Now get out and fix that. I can't remember any healing spells." He continued and moved back to Buckbeak, who was waiting

"I'm fine." You said, moving toward Buckbeak, only wincing a bit when you moved your arm.

You grabbed a roll of bandages and started to try to dress Buckbeak's wound. You had dropped it at least three times before Sirius pushed you away from the beast.

"Go." He said firmly, pointing to the door.

"I'm fine." You said through gritted teeth as you were attempting to move past him.

Sirius had finally snapped. He loved you too much to let you do this. He shook his head angrily and took a few steps back when he saw no movement from you.

"Just get out, goddammit!" He yelled, turning away from you.

You stumbled back, the hand of your uninjured arm immediately going to your swollen stomach. You let out a shaky breath as you turned and waddled out of the room, slowly padding down the stairs. You grabbed a kitchen towel from the counter and wrapped it around your arm. You couldn't heal it magically at the moment because you had injured your wand arm. You wiped away the single tear that had rolled down your face and wobbled over to a chair. You sat there for at least an hour, simultaneously hating yourself and cursing Sirius out in your head. You occasionally checked on your injury, lifting the blood-stained towel up to see an ugly gash. You only faintly heard Kreacher's voice from another room but thought nothing of it. The house-elf always talked to himself, and you didn't feel the desire to hear more slurs about your blood status.

The front door of the house banged open to reveal an out of breath Remus. You frowned at him.

"Where's Sirius?" He breathed out frantically.

You pointed to the stairs meekly just as Sirius came rushing down.

"What's going on?" He asked Remus, the glanced at you to see if you were okay.

You didn't even look at him. Instead, you stared at the tablecloth in front of you. You were too scared to look at Sirius, but not of him. You were scared of what you would do if you did look at him.

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named lured Harry to the Ministry," Remus said quickly, grabbing out his wand from inside his jacket.

You looked up at this. Harry was like your nephew. You had immediately gotten along with the boy when you two first met, back when Sirius was in Azkaban. The Potter had only been eleven, and at that time, Dumbledore had introduced you as merely one of James' friends rather than Sirius' lover. You had been close to James before he was killed by the Dark Lord. He had treated you as his sister, and you had treated him as your brother because your own was too busy 'ruling the school' with Lucius Malfoy. You were treated as one of the boys, though you had never learned of the Marauder's Map until it was in Harry's possession. He had let you hang with the four Gryffindors most of the time, and they had all joked with you.

Then you had taken a special liking for one of the boys when fourth year rolled around. Sirius had always seemed to make sure you were happy, and sometimes even made you promise to cheer for him at Quidditch games. Your hands had grazed the other's frequently, and that was about the only time you ever saw Sirius blush. He had finally decided to ask you out on a date around Christmas time. It was just a simple butterbeer together at Three Broomsticks, but it was enough. You two had had butterbeer together before, but only in the presence of Remus, Peter, and James. This time it would be alone.

After the drinks, Sirius walked you back to the Gryffindor common room and just before you had headed off to the girls' dormitory, he had swiftly grabbed your face and placed a kiss upon your lips. You kissed back, of course, and that had led to you two cuddling and being as romantic as can be on the sofa. The only problem you two had not thought of was James. He had walked in on the two after a great day in Hogsmeade. He didn't seem to like his best friend being an item with his 'sister'. This led to an early bedtime for you both. By morning, Sirius had convinced James that he would keep you safe, and you had promised that you would still cheer for him at his Quidditch games. You were made one of Lily's bridesmaids and Sirius was made James' best man. At your own wedding, you had asked Lily to be your maid of honor, and Sirius had practically begged James to help him with his vows and be his best man.

So to say that you had felt a special bond with Harry was an understatement. You waited for Remus to continue with something, anything that would make you feel better. But he didn't. Instead, Sirius sprang into action. He told Remus to beat him there so he could make sure Harry was safe enough, swiped his wand from off the counter, and slipped on his shoes. He rushed over to you and placed a kiss on your lips just as he had done the first time.

"I love you, (Y/N/N)." He told you.

When you didn't answer him, he sighed.

"I'll be back." He declared before Apparating out of the home.

You instantly regretted not answering him. You moved from the chair you were sitting on to the bedroom you two shared, which was just Sirius' old bedroom with some of your things inside. You let your hand graze over the pictures of the two of you, of James and him, of the Marauders all together, and of just you. You gently laid yourself onto the bed and closed your eyes, cherishing the silence. You could smell Sirius on the blankets and pillows. It helped you fall asleep, but it didn't keep you asleep.

Only a half an hour later, you woke up with tears streaming down your face. You had the worst nightmare ever, one where Sirius died hating you. You couldn't stand it. You placed your feet onto the ground and walked out to the living area. You sat on the sofa and waited. You felt like you had been waiting forever before you finally heard the familiar sound of the door opening. You rushed as fast as you could to the door, greeting who you thought was Sirius with a hug.

"(Y/N)." You heard Remus' voice.

You threw yourself off of him and looked at him with concern. You noticed that Sirius was nowhere to be seen.

"Remus, where is he? Where's Sirius? I need to say something to him." You told the werewolf.

Remus looked as if he had swallowed a giant pill. He looked pained and weak. You frowned softly at the man, looking up into his eyes as you waited for his answer. He looked down at you and wrapped you in a hug. You immediately pulled away, sensing something was wrong.

"What happened? Is he hurt? Did he get caught by the Ministry?" You asked him, a million and one scenarios going through your head.

Remus shook his head. He gulped down a breath and stumbled into the house further. He practically fell down onto a chair, staring into space and running a hand through his hair briefly.

"(Y/N), he-he's dead. Bellatrix Lestrange killed him and -" Remus said softly, his voice breaking.

He looked up at you, tears streaming down his face. You couldn't comprehend his words at first. When it finally clicked, your face fell, along with your body. Remus had barely made it to your falling form before you hit the ground. He held you on the floor as you sobbed, clutching onto his shirt and gulping for air. All you could feel was pain and heartbreak.

You blamed Bellatrix, you blamed Voldemort, you even blamed yourself. Why hadn't you kissed him back? Why hadn't you told him that you loved him? Why did you get upset over something that was truly your fault?

You must have been sitting there for an hour before a knock on the door came about. Remus slowly helped you stand and supported you as he led you over to a chair. He then walked to the door, wand at the ready. He swung the door open with his wand pointed at the person behind it.

Molly Weasley had a forlorn look on her face. She shoved past Remus and practically ran over to you before wrapping you in her arms. She always treated you like her own child, ever since you met, which was sometimes a bit annoying because of the smothering, but most times it was endearing. Molly pulled away after a few moments. She looked you over and caught a glimpse of your arm. She gasped at the bloody mess, drew her wand from inside her bag, placed the tip of her wand near the injury, and muttered something. Instantly your arm healed, leaving you with no trace of an encounter with Buckbeak. You sniffled softly, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

"Now, you will come with me back to the Burrow. Go pack whatever you will need to bring, and I will find means of traveling. Apparating will hurt the baby, and I don't seem to have any Floo powder." Molly said, looking through her gigantic bag.

You did as she said, and packed everything you could. Your clothes, your toiletries, your favorite objects, and of course, every picture you could find that wasn't magically stuck to the wall. You carried the bag back to where Molly was. She immediately grabbed your bag from you and shoved it into Remus' arms. She then gently wrapped your traveling cloak around you and grabbed your hand. She led you outside the house, locking the door behind her with a flick of her wrist. You were carefully placed inside a taxi, with Molly next to you, Remus next to Molly. Molly gave the driver the address, stroking your hair gently as you leaned into her.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" The driver asked, attempting small talk.

Remus didn't say anything back. You held back a sob and snuggled into Molly even more, your tears streaming down your face faster now. Molly just nodded sadly and continued to stroke your hair. The driver didn't say anything else after that.

When you finally reached the Burrow, it was daylight. You hadn't gotten any sleep since your little nap, but you couldn't sleep alone. You had barely been left alone since Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. You slept with him, you ate with him, you cleaned with him, you cooked with him, you had even taken showers with the man. Before your pregnancy, it had been a sexy time with him. But when you had started growing a baby bump, he didn't want you to somehow pull a muscle by washing your hair. It sometimes was a bit bothersome, but it was also sweet. He was so excited to be a father. He never let you get too cold or too warm. He kept you stuffed with all your favorite foods.

But now he was gone. You were alone in this world until your child was born, a child you would have to raise alone. Your child wouldn't have a father. No one to check under the bed for monsters. No one to tease you with. You choked back a sob, knowing that Molly and Remus were trying to sleep. You softly rubbed your stomach and looked out into the garden.

After hours of Molly smothering you with every form of love she had, you were finally left alone again. The moonlight streamed in through the window of the room you were staying in. The stars shone brightly on the country hills. You quietly made your way down to the garden, then sat on a bench out there. You snuggled into your sweater and looked up at the night sky. You saw a particular star shining the brightest. Sirius. You wiped away the tear that had fallen and smile sadly at the diamond-like thing.

"I love you too." You whispered to it, remembering Sirius' last words to you.

why did i feel the need to write a sad sirius imagine as my first one? i have no idea, but there are more coming don't you worry.

if you have a request, please feel free to tell me! i would be happy to write anything [to an extent] that you would want to read!

[ficmesideways]

October Updates!

My inbox is almost empty. I will be taking more requests until probably the end of the week and then will have to closer her down for 2 weeks while I am on vacay. I will repost closer to the cut off dates but wanted to put it out there just in case.

Also, after my vacay I will be taking Halloween themed requests, and they will be made the priority from Oct 22nd through the 31st. Let's get spooky!!

[lostgirlfandom]

Miscellaneous Masterlist

I'll add more as I go along.

Riverdale

FP Jones

Mother Dearest

Mother Dearest Part II

Mother Dearest Part III

Mother Dearest Part IV

Hellboy

Hellboy (Both Versions)

Abe Sapien

10th Kingdom

Wolf

Real Elvis

Austin! Elvis

The Labyrinth

Jareth

American Horror Story

Michael Langdon

Reunited

Shameless

Lip

It's a Tuesday

Roman Fingers

Polar

Duncan Vizla

Fun and Games

Breakfast Club

John Bender

[imagine-all-the-things]

[muschiettistrashmouth]

I wanna hold your hand- Nikki Sixx

Day one - holding hands

NOTE: Hello there, I wanted to try something new this year so I started a writing challenge for September. So here's day one!

Warnings: none

Requested: no - part of a challenge.

Words: 300

Enjoy!

Dating someone like Nikki Sixx was challenging, not only did you have to stay alone for days when they were on tour, but the fans were really cruel sometimes. The other girlfriends warned you about it in your first conversation with them. And that really made you stay away from the media and public stuff. Sometimes it was unbearable to not be able to touch him outside your house or backstage.

Sharise was one of your best friends and was always with you on every occasion. It was rare to see one without the other. And it was during one of your talks that Nikki finally understood why you never touched him in public.

"You know, I'm too scared to even hold hands with him and end up with a crazy fan around my throat." You pull your legs against your chest, resting your chin on your knees.

"Oh honey, I understand, really." She sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder. "They really have very aggressive fans, but you will stop living your relationship because of them? It doesn't even make sense!"

Now it was his turn to sigh, it really didn't make sense.

Tommy is behind the door with Nikki when Mick and Vince arrive.

"What are they doing her-" Mick didn't even finish his sentence, Tommy told him to be quiet so they could hear better.

The three stared at Nikki as if to say 'why didn't you ever do something about this?' to every sentence of your conversation with Sharise.

Mick, in all his delicacy, enters the room.

“Hi, Mick!" The blonde smiled at him.

——

After the boys finished getting ready for their post-show party, you all walked out the door. Nikki held your hand affectionately.

"I won't let anyone stop you from touching me again."

[alloftheimagines]

billy hargrove | drunk again

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 2.6k

warnings: 18+. triggering topics. read with care.

billy struggles with alcoholism, reader's dad was also an alcoholic, mentions of abuse, blood, violence, strong language, hurt/comfort

prompts: Hey, could u write something about billy hargrove? It can be anything u want but maybe it can mention about how he struggles with alcoholism and tries to be better for the reader? It's okay if u don't want to!!

"Just because you're angry, it doesn't give you the right to be cruel." Billy x Reader angst but maybe happy ending? You don’t have to do a happy ending though, whatever feels right to you 💞

tags: @whiskeypowder @lil-stark @m0rning-st4r @findleynovadachs111

You’re beginning to despise parties. You and Billy used to love blowing off steam, dancing, getting a little tipsy, having fun. But these days, Billy doesn’t drink for fun. He drinks to forget. Almost every night. Not just at parties, but whenever he can. He’ll use his lunch break to fill his hip flask with whiskey. Open a beer, two, three, as soon as you get home from work. 

You’re losing him. You feel it. You’re just too afraid to tell him. The few times you’ve tried to gently broach the subject, he’s gotten angry and shut down, and that only leads to more drinking. More fighting. More him sleeping on the couch while you lie awake in the next room, wondering how the hell you can help him if he won’t let you in. 

You try to forget when you get to Steve’s that night. The two of you go your separate ways, Billy catching up with his old classmates and you with yours. But anxiety pulses through you, relentless, constant, and you can’t keep your gaze from wandering every few minutes just to see if you spot him. Just to see if he’s already wasted. 

He is. Not two hours later, Steve pulls you aside to tell you that Billy’s all over the place, and he’s trying to start a fight — not for any particular reason. He’ll prod the first guy he’ll find. You know this about him. Hate it about him. Steve’s often on the receiving end, but apparently he knows something’s wrong too, because he looks at you with more concern than you know how to handle before guiding you to the kitchen. 

Billy is mouthing off, drinking whiskey straight out of the bottle as he jabs an accusing finger at Tommy H. “You’re a real sleazy prick, man. What is it? Mommy doesn’t love you enough?”

“Hey,” you interrupt, standing between them and nudging Billy backwards. He doesn’t look at you, eyes sparkling with hatred even through the haze of his drunkenness as he glares at Tommy. “Please don’t start a fight tonight, Billy. It’s not worth it.”

He doesn’t even seem to hear you, swaying against the kitchen counter. You cup his jaw, tilting his face down to look at you, but he’s reluctant. He fights you. The stench of drink rolls off him, and you dread to think how much he’s had tonight. It looks a lot. More than most nights. 

“Don’t,” you plead again, locking your gaze onto his. “Let’s go home, okay?”

“That’s right,” Tommy pipes up from behind. “Do what your bitch says, Hargrove. You wanna talk about my mommy? Where the hell’s yours?”

It’s all it takes. In a nanosecond, you’re shoved out of the way. Billy yanks the collar of Tommy’s shirt, fists so tight his knuckles turn white as he bares his teeth. The crowd parts as he presses him up against the wall opposite. You’ve seen Billy fight before, but you’ve never seen him like this. Trembling. So full of rage that you can’t find the man you love there. He’s a stranger. And you know it’s the drink — and whatever it is that eats him up inside. His mom. His dad. His grief and his fear and his anger. 

“What the fuck did you say to me?” he demands, but his words are slurred. 

“Billy,” you beg again, attempting to go to him, but Steve holds you back. Maybe he’s right to. Billy just pushed you away like you were a piece of paper cluttering his desk. Like you weren’t there at all. He doesn’t see you, and that… 

Well, maybe that makes him dangerous. 

“Don’t even get me started on your dad.” Tommy’s grin is oily as he looks down at Billy. “We all know he knocks you around. Still not man enough to stop him, are you?”

You turn cold. If there’s one thing that will trigger Billy, it’s his dad. 

And it does. Billy’s fist pounds into Tommy’s jaw without warning, and then again, again, again. Tommy fights back, aiming for Billy’s nose, his stomach, anywhere he can get. You’re certain you’re screaming, or maybe it’s everyone else. You don’t know anymore. There is something so harrowing, so world-ending, about seeing what Billy is capable of under the influence. 

And for the first time, you can’t be certain that you trust him with your safety. 

But you can’t just sit and watch with the rest of them. You wriggle out of Steve’s grip desperately, fingers clawing at Billy’s jacket as you try to pull him away. “Enough! Stop it!” 

He whips around, swiping, expression wild and untethered and not his. You dodge his fist by a metre, ducking at the last second. He falters at the sight of you, the sight of tears rolling down your face, and it’s the distraction Steve needs to come between him and Tommy. You’re vaguely aware of him telling Tommy to fuck off, get out, go, but Billy is still staring at you through low, heavy lids, sweat glistening on his forehead, and you both know something has been broken tonight. 

Finally, Billy breaks away, yelling over Steve’s shoulder, “I better not see you anywhere near me again, you hear me? Piece of fucking shit.” He spits, arms waving wildly — until they’re not. Until he slumps against the kitchen counter, instantly picking up his bottle of whiskey. As the crowd scatters under Steve’s command, Billy takes a swig and then shouts, curses. “Fuck!” The bottle turns to shards as it hits the wall, the remaining liquid staining the white tiles brown. You both flinch. 

“You need to calm down, man,” Steve says softly. 

“Fuck you, Harrington.” The words are empty, if not a little bitter. 

You close your eyes for a moment, gulping down your tears as the kitchen becomes quiet. Empty. “That’s enough,” you say. “It’s enough, Billy. Please… enough.”

Billy sucks in a few shallow breaths, chest rising and falling, before his upper lip curls into a sneer and he begins ransacking the fridge for more beer. “Whatever.”

“No.” You manoeuvre around Steve, catching Billy’s hand before he can raise a fresh can to his mouth. Your own shake and he must notice because he looks down as though he’s never felt your touch before. “Enough.”

“You gonna start telling me what I can and can’t do now, sweetheart?” Billy sways against you.

You shake your head, exhaustion setting in. “Steve, can you give us a minute?”

“I don’t think—”

You cut Steve’s protest off quickly. “Please. We’re fine. He won’t hurt me.”

Hesitantly, Steve nods. “Feel free to crash in the guest bedroom tonight if you can’t get him home.”

It’s a possibility. Billy is tall, broad, heavy, and he can barely stand. As Steve leaves, you turn your back to your boyfriend, grabbing a solo cup from the stack and filling it with water at the sink. 

“Fuckin’ hurt you,” Billy is muttering nonsensically, slamming the beer down on the counter. “Who the fuck’s he think he is? ‘Course I won’t fuckin’ hurt you. You’re my girlfriend. Jesus.”

You turn around and, feeling numb, eye his injuries. A bloody nose. Bruised knuckles. A swollen mouth. Jesus. You don’t know how much longer you can watch the man you love tear himself apart. 

But you do love him, even now. You always have. Always will. And you know that you can’t give up on him, because that’s what he’s waiting for. He’s never known love before. Only pain and abuse. You plan on changing that, no matter how long it takes. 

“Sit down,” you order, hoping your voice sounds stronger than it feels. "Drink this."

Billy rolls his eyes but does as told, not without huffs and puffs and a few stumbles. You grab a cloth from under the sink and then fill it with ice from the bucket where the beer is chilled. You get another for the blood, and then round the counter to meet Billy. He sits on a stool, legs spread wide, shoulders sagging, eyes unfocused, and it breaks your heart.

Still, when you eye him carefully, he pulls you in by the waist, hands warm and rough. It would usually make you grin, but tonight, it makes you want to cry. You clean up his bloody nose while standing between his legs, letting his knees keep you clamped to your own composure. 

“You’re mad at me,” he points out.

“No, I’m not,” you reply honestly. 

A smirk. “Liar.”

“I’m not mad, Billy. I just wish it wasn’t like this.”

His jaw sets, anger returning to his features. “You’re welcome to fuck anyone else here, babe.”

The words are bitter, sharp, and you flinch from them, dropping the cloth and leaving his prison. “I know you’re drunk and you’re angry, but it doesn’t give you the right to be cruel. Not to me. I put up with your shit, Billy. Don’t throw it back in my face.”

“My shit?” he repeats with a snort. “What shit would that be, huh?”

“The drinking. The mood swings. The fights. I don’t…” Your voice breaks, and you can’t look at him anymore. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you sober. I don’t remember the last time we felt like us. And you won’t talk to me. You shut me out because you only know how to use your fucking fists.”

“We’re not talking about this bullshit again,” he dismisses.

“Exactly. So what will we do? Should we keep pretending like everything is fine, even though it’s not? Even though…” God, you can’t even express how broken you are because you know it isn’t fair. Something is wrong with Billy, and you can’t make it about you. Even if it’s ruining you, too. 

“Everything is fine,” Billy snaps. 

“I’m trying to be understanding because I know something’s eating at you, baby, but…” Your bottom lip trembles as you remember the feeling of his fist flying at you, the blank, empty look in his eye. “You almost hurt me tonight. You’re not yourself. And I’m scared.” You whisper the last part, a sob rising in you. 

His eyes narrow, thumb digging into the counter. “I’d never hurt you.”

“You almost did.”

“Fuck this.” He stands up, but the movement is unsteady and he almost collapses again. You don’t dare go to him this time, and he falls back onto the stool, eyes closing. “Jesus.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Jesus. This needs to stop.”

“What needs to stop? Stop talking down to me!” His fingers curl into his palms again. You do your best not to wonder why.

“I’m not talking down to you, Billy. I’m trying to tell you that this can’t go on!”

“So what?” His head whips up, and he looks surprisingly sharp now. “You gonna break up with me 'cos I got a little drunk at a fucking party? Don’t be ridiculous.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, tears rolling down your face. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. I really can’t.”

“Then don’t! Fuck off! I don’t need you anyway.”

The words sting more than any punch could, and you turn your back to him as your shoulders shake with suppressed sobs. What do you do? If you leave him, he has no reason to change. To get better. You’re telling him that you won’t stand by him when things get tough. But if you stay… 

If you stay, he won’t change anyway. You’ll sit by and watch more of him disappear each day, just like you did your dad. Your mom stayed with him too long, and it got you both beaten and empty. You don’t know if you can do it again. 

But he’s Billy. You love him. You can’t abandon him. 

His sigh wafts through the room. “Baby,” Billy whispers. “Y’know I don’t mean that. Don’t get upset.”

You can say nothing. Do nothing but keep crying, keep wiping away the tears, keep trying to hold it together while he falls apart. It isn’t working anymore. You’re not strong enough. 

The legs of the chair scrape against the tiles, and then he’s there, falling into you, eyes bloodshot and intense as he swipes the curtain of hair off your shoulder so he can see you. “Baby,” he repeats, guiltily now. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I’m an ass. I’d never fucking hurt you, okay? I never would.”

“Tell me how to help you,” you beg. You’d get down on your hands and knees if you thought it would make a difference. 

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!” you erupt. “I’ve lived with an alcoholic my whole life. You think I don’t know by now what���s happening? You need help before…”

“Before what?” Lines wrinkle his forehead. 

“Before you ruin more than just a party. Before you stop being able to separate people you love and people you hate. Before you lose yourself.”

“You’re being so fucking dramatic—”

“Don’t. Just don’t,” you whisper.

“I’m not your fucking dad!” His shout bellows through the kitchen, stripping you raw. 

It takes everything in you not to yell back until your voice turns hoarse. Instead, you mutter, “And you’re not yours. Not yet. But you’re making all the same mistakes. Is that what you want?”

Finally, you see something change. His throat bobs, lips parting in surprise as he staggers back an inch. As though realising how close he is, how intimidating he can be. As though finally seeing things from the outside in. “Don’t ever say shit like that to me.”

“Then what do you want me to say? That it’s okay? It’s not. It’s not okay. None of this is okay.” You take a deep, shuddering breath. “We’re going round in circles. Go sleep it off, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“You’re gonna leave me, aren’t you?” Devastation writes itself across his face agonisingly slowly. “I knew you would.”

Carefully, you inch closer, letting your hands fall on his swollen jaw again. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not giving up on you. But I don’t know how much longer this will work if you don’t get the help you need. I don’t know how much longer either of us can survive like this. God, Billy, I love you… but…” You choke on your tears. “You won’t let me in. Baby, please. Let me in.”

A tear rolls down his cheek, dark eyelashes dampening, and you finally see a glimpse of something real. Something him. “Shit,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.” He bows his head, face scrunching as though in pain. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You pull him close, and he rests his head against your shoulder. You draw soothing circles into his back, inhaling the scent of him: cigarettes and whiskey and spearmint. Aftershave he once kept fresh but that now smells days old. “I know you are. It’s going to be okay.”

He whimpers into the crook of your neck. “Don’t give up on me yet. I’ll be better. I swear to god. I can’t… I can’t do it without you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” It’s all you can offer, but he relaxes in your arms, and you prop each other up that way. 

“I love you,” he murmurs over and over again, half-drunk and half-asleep until you eventually sink to the floor together. “I’ll be better, baby. I love you. Love you so fuckin’ much.” 

“I know,” you reassure him as the minutes tick by, body growing cold against the kitchen tiles. But you have to believe him. You have to hope history won’t repeat itself. You have to stay. 

So you do.

[rewritethisstxry]

Hello and welcome to my mixed mosh little corner of tumblr. Here I write for a variety of fandoms and characters. Primarily will be featuring drabbles with the occasional longer piece. Headcanons will feature from time to time.

At the time I do NOT consent for my work to be translated or posted anywhere else.

Below you will find some more information on who and what I write.

MINORS DNI. Due to the nature of potential content, only 18 and older are allowed.

Characters || Rules || Masterlist || Slasher/horror writing blog : @slxsherwriter

What I will write:

Angst

Fluff

Smut

Platonic relationships

Alpha/Omega dynamics

What I won’t write:

Snuff

Rape, rape play, non con

Underage

Inc*st

Real person fic

Marvel: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Alexei Shostakov, Peter Parker, Victor Creed, Deacon Frost, Peter Quinn, Frank Castle, Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson, Bruce Banner, Brock Rumlow, Nathan Summers, Eddie Brock, Cletus Kasady, Otto Octavius

DC Universe: Bruce Wayne, Harvey Bullock, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Jonathan Crane, Clark Kent, Arthur Curry

Stranger Things: James Hopper, Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers

Stargate Atlantis: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, Ronan Dex, Carson Beckett

Sons of Anarchy: Jackson “Jax” Teller, Harry “Opie” Winston, Filip “Chibs” Telford, Juan Carlos “Juice” Ortiz, Lincoln Potter, Galen O'Shay

The Walking Dead: Rick Grimes, Shane Walsh, Negan Smith

What We Do in the Shadows: Nandor the Relentless, Guillermo de la Cruz, Laszlo Cravensworth

Resident Evil: Karl Heisenberg, Albert Wesker, Chris Redfield

Ted Lasso: Ted Lasso, Coach Beard, Jamie Tartt, Roy Kent

Good Omens: Gabriel, Aziraphale, Crowley

Video Games: Connor RK800, CaptainJonathan Price, Simon Ghost Riley, Sniper

Movies: Finn Brody (Godzilla), Raleigh Becket (Pacific Rim), Terry Malone (Black and Blue), Abe Guevara (Point Blank), Bobby O’Neill (The Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard), Guy Clifton (The Crash), Roy Pulver (Boss Level), Sloan (Into the Ashes) Braxton Wolff (The Accountant), Ethan Sawyer (Those Who Wish Me Dead), Bradley James (Grudge Match), Sam Rossi (Sweet Virginia), Mr. McCarthy (Me, Earl, and the Dying Girl), Grady Travis (Fury), Griff (Baby Driver), Adam Frawley (The Town), Buddy (Baby Driver), Clyde Brenek (The Posession), Patrick Sullivan (The Accidental Husband), Harvey Russell (Rampage), Jude Fisher (Peace, Love, and Misunderstanding), Luke Vaughn (Heist), Franklin Clay (The Losers), Max (The Resident), Nicomund the Red/Santa Claus (Violent Night), Doug Dennison (Sleepless), Frank Masters (The Equalizer), Hellboy (2019), Alex Baldr (Max Payne), Matt Graver (Sicario), Douglas Hunsiker (The Rise of the Planet of the Apes), Steve Emmett (Boa vs Python), Joe Braven (Braven), Lee Christmas (The Expendables), Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious)

Musicals: Jack Kelly (Newsies), Dewey Finn (School of Rock), Hades (Hadestown)

Tv shows: Ike Evans (Magic City), Jason Crouse (The Good Wife), John Winchester (Supernatural), Mason Baldwin (Elementary), Colton Fisk (The Equalizer), Kevin Tidwell (Life), Declan Murphy (Law & Order: SVU), Eugene McGillicutty (Royal Pains), Chuck Martin (ER), Dickie Flood (Th Practice), Malcolm Bright (Prodigal Son)

Tolkien: Boromir, Faramir, Eomer

[iveseenstrangerthings]

stranger in a time of need (part 1)- a Steve Harrington imagine

SEASON 4 PLOT SPOILERS AHEAD!

summary: Reader has been devastated by the destruction to Hawkins from Vecna. She ends up in the refuge center set up in Hawkins were Steve tries to step in to help. She/her pronouns. angst/potential for slight fluff

warnings: some swearing and mention of parental loss. 

word count: 2.3k

note: This is my first imagine for Stranger Things! I’m no stranger to writing imagines/fanfic though!! thought I would have another go. I hope it’s okay and I will most likely follow this up with a part 2! Let me know if you’d like :)  **i do not own the gif!**

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Reader

For the last two days your mind has been on autopilot. Just keep walking, not much farther. Empty thoughts come and go, but they all pass by in meaningless flutters. Nothing seems real, everywhere is surrounded by destruction and pure devastation. Hawkins, as you had once known it, is now simply no more. What is left will forever be tarnished with the unexplainable ‘earthquake’ that terrorised your town only days ago. In the blink of an eye, your life had become a total cliché. What started as a normal day soon turned unforgettable, for all the wrong reasons.

 Following the earthquake, you were able to latch onto a small group of people who were headed for a refuge center, in the center of Hawkins. Days ago, you barely knew them, only as your neighbours or kids you saw riding their bikes in the street, unaware of their personalities, quirks, or relationships. Now, you were all bound together, in an unspoken bond which nobody had acknowledged, but you all know is there. The small group gathered whatever water and food supplies they could and set off walking. You queried the idea of walking when you first joined, however you were quick to learn that many roads which were so familiar were now inaccessible.  

As the group travelled further into Hawkins and the damage was more prominent, some members decided to leave Hawkins completely, try and get a car out of town and leave it all behind. Only, you had no car and weren’t aware of any distant relatives who lived outside of Hawkins, so you felt your options were limited. You stuck with the remaining few members of the group and kept walking.

 Your mind was relatively empty, the only thing on it was reaching the centre and taking it from there, simple really. But the more you saw, the more you questioned the so-called earthquake the media was portraying everywhere. The damage was immense, with the further you travelled and the more you saw, your suspicions only grew stronger. You were able to get frequent updates on the situation from a guy’s portable radio, but when that died the space was just filled with the silence and low hum of people’s deep breathing. With the odd nod of direction from the person at the front, who became the ‘leader’ if you will. Nobody voted, nobody asked, they just sort of fell into the role, but nobody complained, and everyone seemed grateful for the small act. During one rest stop, you looked to the ‘leader’ and made a mental note to stick with them once you left the refuge centre. They seemed calm, confident, and collected, someone you needed in a time like that. All throughout the journey, nobody tried to make conversation or reassure one another; nobody knew what to do.

 It took two days to reach the centre. Two, agonising days. If you were alone, you could’ve done it in half the time. However, with some children in the group you had to be mindful of the time in which you rested. When you walked through the open doors, no sense of relief came to you, as you had hoped. Your nose filled with the smell of burnt rubble and gas which surrounded, but also a hint of coffee and slow-cooked food that was being served at the far side of the hall. You knew the damage was bad, but when you saw just how many people were here, homeless, injured, and hopeless, the overwhelming feeling only grew. Only then, you became aware of your legs and how tired, heavy, and weak they felt. Your posture grew slouched as you made your way to an empty bench, and only then when you sat down everything came to. Like floodgates opening in your mind, the events of the last two days came to you with a rush of nausea. You had not cried, yet. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you were unsure of the purpose crying would have. It wouldn’t change anything. Though, now sitting here, you felt the warm rush of tears fill your eyes, flushing your cheeks and causing a deep heaviness to sit in your throat. Bowing your head, you let them fall. Tears fell from your eyes, spotting your light jeans like steady rainfall on a pavement. A depressing feeling of weakness filled you from head to toe, crying felt like failure. The murmur of the environment around you seemed to fade out as your ears rang from the suppressed sobs.

 Steve

A new, small, group entered the hall. He counted them as they all filtered through. Only 5… he thought. The groups were getting smaller in number as the hours went on. That either meant that survivors were making their way out of here, or the number of casualties were far higher than anticipated. He shook the thought away like you would a fly, it was a nuisance and brought no good. There was nothing drastically different to this group to any of the other ones, everyone looked tired and downcast.

For a moment, he scanned the room to see if anyone needed any urgent help when his eyes landed on her. Her frame hunched over the bench with her eyes locked onto nothing particular. He knew what was happening, he had seen it multiple times. When people arrived here, their adrenaline would settle, and they would come to the painful realisation of the previous events. There had been tears, screams and arguments of denial, but nearly everyone wore the same empty stare of disbelief. His eyes moved to the space around her, the group she came with all seemed to go in different directions and she was left alone. He battled with himself for a few moments, what use would I be if I went over? She might just tell me to piss off. His facial expressions changed with each outcome that entered his stream of consciousness, just go. So, with that, he made his way carefully over to her.  

 “Hey, can I get you anything at all?” He spoke softly, knowing his usual tone of voice may have been too overbearing. He realised she was crying, her jeans spotted with tears. He suddenly felt very awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say. His heart quickened and he felt himself starting to flush. Her head remained hung for a few seconds until she lifted it, wiping her cheeks as she did so. Her face was painted with tears, she shook her head no.

In usual circumstances, he would have wanted to make a comment on her appearance. She was a beautiful girl, no doubt, but he felt wrong for having such thoughts in a time like this.

“Can I sit?” Gesturing with his hand to the empty space along from her, not too close.

A miniscule smile appeared on her lips, one he might have missed if he blinked, “Sure.” She quickly cleared her throat as if to say something, then the vacant expression dawned her features again.

His fingers folded between themselves in his lap as he followed her stare, “You sure I can’t get you anything? Water or coffee?” He realised she did not know he volunteered here, and he may be coming across as rather odd. “I do work here by the way, not just some random guy.” He stifled a smile, “Although, you may think that and that’s totally fine. I am just some random dude I guess.” What the fuck Steve…  

“It’s okay.” Her responses were simple. No more than a few syllables or a nod of the head, which was understandable. The empty gaze returned, Steve sat back slightly and waited, but nothing came. The awkwardness in the air returned for him, it didn’t even register for her though. He was about to get up but a shift in her posture changed so he returned himself back to his original position.

Her eyes found his, but only for a second or so before looking away, almost searching for something. “Can I ask you something?” Steve looked back at her, a small nod giving her the reassurance to continue. “This wasn’t an earthquake, was it?” Her question took him aback. He wasn’t aware of her story yet, what happened, who she was and all of that. Steve knew everything. But he couldn’t risk sharing things with someone he has known for less than five minutes. A few seconds passed and he was trying to think of the right answer, the cogs in his head almost visible to the girl sat before him, which gave her all the answers she needed. “Ah, okay. I understand.” The disappointment was evident in her voice, or it may just be tiredness, Steve didn’t know but it didn’t matter right now.

“I’m sorry.” He gave a small shrug of his shoulders and when they returned to their position, they felt heavy, uncomfortable. Like he too now was bearing the weight of this girl’s sadness. ‘This girl’… she will have a name. “What’s your name?”

“(y/n).” And to Steve’s surprise, she held out her hand. It was dirty and cold, but he didn’t mind. He was glad of the gesture. He took it softly, trying not to make the grip too firm.

“Steve.” He said. The name sharing felt like a good point in conversation, almost like she was letting him in ever so slightly.

 “Listen, I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to pry. But it’s just been crazy, it’s not safe. Where are you headed?” If he didn’t sound creepy before, he certainly did now and he swore at himself for asking such a direct and intrusive question. But her facial expression warmed, the fact someone had shown some care towards her reassured her of something but she wasn’t quite sure what.

“I’m going to go with my group.” Wow, the longest response he’d gotten. Her head started to swivel, she bobbed up and down as if to see over the ever-growing crowd of people here. Her eyes narrowed as she did a full sweep of the place, then returned, her eyes starting to fill, and her lip turned upwards. “I came with a group,” she started, “I was going to go with them, but I can’t see them. They will have left, they didn’t know me.” What seemed like two days’ worth of sobs surfaced.

“We will find them, I promise. Where’s your family?” As soon as the question left his lips, he realised this might have been an awful mistake. What a stupid question.

Her body shook, a loud sniffle came from her bowed head, “It’s just me.” She said, a quiver in her voice letting out all the vulnerabilities she had tried so hard to conceal.

A strange knot formed in Steve’s stomach. He wasn’t sure if it had always been her, or whether it was now just her… but the question was too premature it could have waited. He moved his hand to where hers was rested on the bench and gave a gentle, reassuring trace of his thumb over her knuckles, to Steve’s surprise, she allowed the small touch to remain for a few seconds before pulling her hand away.

 Reader

What a mess. As you pulled your hand away, you suddenly felt as if you had been stripped bare, the world becoming accustomed to your most vulnerable parts. Your heart felt heavy. It was a harmless question, he didn’t know. But it almost verified the one thought you hadn’t wanted to face. It was just you now. Whatever it was had ripped through your family home, tearing into your parents, and causing the foundations of your warm home to collapse. Just like that. Running your tongue above your top lip, collecting the salty taste of your own tears, you placed your hands on your lap. Like you would do if you were at someone’s house just about to announce your departure. Clearing your throat you stood, “Thank you for your help, Steve.” Your voice was dry, even though you’d hardly said a word for the past few days. You went to turn but a hand on your arm stopped you.

“Wait wait,” you turned around to see Steve standing close to you, his hand still resting gently on your arm. “Let me take you to the Motel.” Was this guy serious? The Motel… You went to shrug your arm away in disgust with a hurl of insults making their way up to your throat, but all you could muster was a look of hurt, which Steve recognised and realised his mistake. “Oh my god no no. No. Shit, no not like that no.” He shook his head furiously, obviously reeling in disbelief that he had made it seem that way. “We take a group of people to the Motel a couple times a day, check them in and get them some food and a place to stay for a couple days. If you’ve got no plans, it’s the best option, it’s not safe for you here.” You let the thought hang in the air for a few seconds, you had no other options. It was the best idea. Before you could respond, Steve quickly said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

 Steve

After his attempt at redemption, she was able to look him in the eyes. She was almost studying his face for the first time. Oddly, he felt intimidated by her, and he had a feeling she knew this. Her eyes softened, realising his honest mistake. She felt relieved, and Steve felt happy that he was able to show her some kindness following some of the darkest days of her life.

“I would be really grateful for that.” And finally, a warm, genuine smile filled her face.