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lovings4turn · 3 months

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୭ 🗝️ ✧ ˚. 🪩 don't delete the kisses . . . (l.n.)

— you and lando walk a fine line between ‘just friends’ and something more. but sometimes, it seems like love just isn't meant for you (2.6k words)

+ mentions of drinking and clubs, a lot of miscommunication and pining but i promise it's somewhat fluffy. based on don't delete the kisses by wolf alice.

+ part two | divider from cafekitsune

lando: where r u???? 02:43

lando: y/nnnn:(( 02:45

lando: charls told me you left 02:48

lando: get hmome safe 02:49

you didn't mean to pull an irish goodbye, honestly. but the club was far too loud, and you were nowhere near drunk enough to tolerate the remixed house music and overpriced drinks for any longer.

the easiest option was simply to slip out unnoticed, send a quick text to let everyone know you were okay, and head home alone. if you'd mention your wanting to leave early, no doubt at least three of your friends would decide to leave with you in solidarity, no matter how much you insisted they stay and enjoy their night. that way, everyone was happy.

after confirming that the car you were about to climb into was your uber, you sank into the plush seat, offering your driver a tired half-smile through his rear view mirror. you were thankful that he seemed to understand you weren’t quite in the mood for conversation, and the rest of the ride was silent save for the music playing from his radio.

pressing your forehead to the glass of the window, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed as you thought over the events of the night, replaying every last detail in your head.

it had all started with the fucking shirt.

official galas and nice dinners meant that you were no stranger to lando wearing nice shirts, the sleeves cuffed and a tie usually hanging around his neck. but when lando greeted you with a hug, his ironically named black button-down unbuttoned to the point that it could be considered obscene, you almost forgot how to function. warm skin pressed against your own, and you hated yourself for realising just how perfectly you moulded against his chest.

never had you been more thankful for the presence of max verstappen, whose offer of heading to the bar allowed you the perfect chance to slip away and regain your composure. the red bull driver made small talk with you as the bartender took your orders, and you responded politely, nodding when you were supposed to and laughing along to the odd joke.

but like a moth to a flame, you couldn’t keep your eyes from falling back onto lando.

somehow even in a packed, lively club, lando’s presence shone the brightest out of all the partygoers. worst of all, he didn’t even have to do anything special. he was simply standing there, nimble fingers wrapped around a cup that you assumed contained a vodka soda as he laughed with his friends. dark curls had started to slip into his eyes, whatever he’d used to style them clearly wearing off as he began to sweat a little.

even doing nothing, he managed to look like he’d fallen from heaven right into your life.

someone up there clearly had it out for you, as lando scanned the room and caught your eye. to look away would only incriminate you further, make it look like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t be, so you smiled. lando shot you a toothy grin back, eyes scrunched shut with the enthusiasm of it.

a cold glass thrust into your palm stole away your attention, and you turned to meet the knowing smirk of max. he nursed his own drink, and one thick brow was raised in a silent question. though he never spoke, it was clear that he knew something was going on between you and lando.

maybe he didn’t want to embarrass you, or maybe he truly didn’t care, but whatever the reason max didn’t vocalise any of his thoughts to you. he simply nodded back over to where your group was standing and gestured for you to walk ahead of him. as you made your way back to the group, you suppressed the urge to worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

to anyone else, the interaction wouldn’t be much to think about. max had caught you, what, smiling at your friend? it was hardly criminal activity. you were just overthinking, the rational part of your brain insisted. but the other part took max’s expression and ran with it.

if max had noticed you harboured certain feelings for lando, then who else had drawn the same conclusions? the last thing you wanted was to be caught staring longingly over at lando, stars in your eyes and a far away look.

in circles like these, people talked, and where formula one drivers went, gossip’s eye was never far around the corner. you’d seen it happen before to other drivers, countless tweets and headlines about who they were caught talking to or dancing with, and the last thing you needed was the speculation of the public on your relationship with lando.

sobered by this thought, you brought the paper straw to your lips, taking a long sip of your gin and tonic and hoping the alcohol would calm you down a little. much to your relief, almost upon arrival you were dragged into a nonsensical conversation with george, alex and lily. george’s slurred speech and alex’s loud laughter granted you a distraction, though it would be a lie to say that your eyes didn’t constantly wander back to lando.

but the heart wants what it wants, and so you couldn’t ignore him forever.

not even a second after an upbeat, bass-heavy song reverberated through the club’s speakers did lando appear by your side, grinning wildly.

“y/n! i’ve been looking for you, come dance w’me!” he shouted, dipping his head down to position his mouth next to your ear.

hot breath tickled your skin, and you shuddered slightly as lando’s larger hand enveloped your own, allowing him to drag you through the crowds towards the dance floor. every now and then, he’d peer over his shoulder to ensure you were still with him, the smile never leaving his lips. everything around him seemed to fade, the bright lights and crowds eclipsed by his radiance.

the crowd seemed to open up around him, blooming like a flower to grant you both more than enough space to dance comfortably without the threat of being hit by stray limbs. lando didn’t even let you get your bearings before he spun you around, high pitched laughter managing to meet your ears even over the pounding music.

it was impossible not to laugh too. you reached up onto your tiptoes, hand still in lando’s own, and spun him around in return. thanks to his height advantage, lando had to duck a little to make the move work, but his hair still brushed against your bare wrist as he passed under it. the tickle travelled along your skin like lightning, leaving goosebumps.

dancing had never been either of your strong suits. even after years of clubbing together, it seemed that each night out was another chance to try to learn exactly what it was you were supposed to do on the dancefloors of clubs and bars, yet you never cared too much.

around lando, everything felt right.

you two continued to dance, mirroring each other's sloppy movements. lando shot you a faux insulted look as you imitated his default dance move, awkwardly moving one arm around to the beat and pointing to the ceiling.

"i do not look like that!" he protested, struggling to keep up his irritated act.

you only shrugged, smirking slightly as you continued to mock him.

another bass-heavy, sultry song began to play, and you dropped your hands. a re-evaluation of how you were supposed to dance was much needed, but lando was one step ahead of you.

without a second thought, lando's hands came to rest on your hips. he took a step closer to you, moving to the beat and prompting you to move along with him.

how you were still breathing was a miracle.

lando was so lost in the music that he was oblivious to your abrupt change in demeanour. suddenly, everything was heightened. even the slightest brush of lando's thumb burned through the fabric of your dress, and you'd gladly bear the marks of the searing touch if it was proof he'd been there at all.

delight soon turned to nerves, as the butterflies in your stomach quickly evolved into wasps, prickly and angry. you'd gotten carried away, dancing with lando like this, and it was beginning to catch up with you.

"i need some air!" you blurted.

lando's eyes snapped open, roaming over your face in concern. he lifted his hand to your face, but to do what, he was unsure. you cursed inwardly at his reaction, his kicked puppy look making you feel even worse.

before he could question you, you forced a wide smile, waving your hand dismissively. "i'm fine! go have fun," you promised, patting his shoulder firmly.

after lando had turned his back, you’d wasted no time in making your way to the club’s exit. just before you could slip through the doorway, you made eye contact with charles. the man only gave you an understanding nod, deciding it wasn’t worth it to pester you to stay.

cold wind whipped your cheeks, and for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe properly. haphazard texts were sent to a handful of people you’d seen tonight, and you’d ordered an uber straight after.

all that was left to do now was sit with your thoughts.

maybe romance wasn’t meant for you. maybe lando wasn’t meant for you. like some sort of divine intervention, your apartment came into view before you could spiral too far.

the familiar sight broke you from your daydream, as your focus now lay on getting out of the car and into your apartment without falling over or dropping anything. it was a welcome distraction from the thoughts of lando that plagued your mind.

it’s like your own head was conspiring against you: even when he wasn’t physically around, you still found a way to gravitate towards him.

there were few sights better than that of your freshly made bed, the sheets practically begging you to slip beneath them and go to sleep. unfortunately, you still needed to change out of your club outfit. and take off your makeup. and text lando back.

fumbling around in your bag for your phone, you let out a triumphant noise and perched on the end of your bed to type out your reply.

y/n: sorry lan, i just-

[MESSAGE DELETED]

y/n: i'm home! sorry for leaving like that, it was-

[MESSAGE DELETED]

you groaned, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes in an attempt to ground yourself. there was no reason you should be overthinking a text to lando, of all people. after a deep sigh, you let your fingers dance over the keyboard, rewriting yet another poor excuse for leaving unannounced.

y/n: home safe! sorry for disappearing, couldn't find u before i left and the uber was outside xx

your finger hovered over the 'send' button before you made one final, crucial revision to the text.

y/n: home safe! sorry for disappearing, couldn't find u before i left and the uber was outside:( 03:24

checking the time at the top of your screen, you figured that lando probably wouldn’t respond until morning. well, afternoon, more likely.

you’d been on countless nights out with lando before; by now his drunken behaviours were engraved into your brain.

like clockwork, lando would hit a certain level of drunk and abandon his phone altogether, opting to sling an arm around someone’s shoulder - usually yours - and drag them off to dance. he wouldn’t even think about his phone until the next morning, checking his messages after finding the device tangled somewhere within the sheets of his bed.

sleep quickly became your top priority. as tempted as you were to just lay down in your current state, you knew that the future, sober you would regret it. in your eyes, you deserved an award for dragging yourself to the bathroom and removing your makeup carefully, not without performing a shorter rendition of your skincare routine and brushing your teeth.

yes, your clothes were bundled up and thrown into the corner of your room, and you opted for an old t-shirt - frustratingly, one of lando’s - instead of a set of pyjamas, but you were only human.

exhaustion seemed to take over you the moment that your head hit the pillow, and you let out a soft sigh of relief as sleep began to take its hold. messy curls and a bright smile was the last thing on your mind as you finally lost consciousness.

meanwhile, the other drivers were still in the club with no intentions of slowing down.

lando squinted at the bright screen of his phone, vaguely able to decipher the letters that made up your text. a sigh of relief escaped him as he realised you had gotten home safely, but disappointment still sat heavy in his chest.

“she’s home,” he shouted in oscar’s ear, though his teammate hadn’t asked.

oscar didn’t have to ask who lando was talking about to understand. he’d noticed that lando’s head had operated on a swivel from the moment he’d realised that you were nowhere to be found. he was like an owl, spinning around in a way that dizzied him, all in the hopes of catching a glimpse of you.

if ever questioned about the pout that settled on his lips, lando would probably blame the alcohol for causing his dramatics to be heightened. of course he wasn’t actually that upset that you’d opted to leave a little earlier, not at all.

“that’s good! she say why she left?” oscar shouted back, dipping his head down so lando could hear him a little better over the chaos of the club.

his question made lando frown further.

“no.”

though it was in response to oscar’s question, lando’s answer was directed more towards himself, voice barely above a mumble. he’d only just realised that you hadn’t actually mentioned why you’d left the club early, just why you didn’t say goodbye.

deep in thought, lando’s brow furrowed as he tried to piece together some sort of timeline. last he’d seen you, you had been dancing together, having what he thought was a great time. okay, maybe his hands had wandered a little further than he’d expected, but it didn’t mean anything. he just got caught up in the moment, the fabric of your clothes beneath his hands far too tempting for him to be able to think clearly.

fuck, what if he’d made you uncomfortable?

lando knew that he became more touchy when he was drunk, his desire for affection growing exponentially as his propensity for shame decreased. your personal space became his, too. it was common for him to sling his arms around your waist, or rest his head on your shoulder as the night grew longer, but he’d never gripped your hips like that until tonight.

it would explain why you were in such a hurry to leave, not stopping to say goodbye to anyone and give them the chance to persuade you to stay for just one more dance. he’d overstepped an unspoken boundary in your friendship, and panic began to bubble in the pit of his stomach.

lando swallowed thickly before standing up, garnering a confused look from the australian sitting next to him.

“i need another drink. i’ll be back.”

before oscar could even speak, lando had disappeared into the thronging mass of the party without another word.

🏷️ tags : @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @srrcsm

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one fic

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luvrhischier · 9 months

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Hi!! I love your writing!! Could you do something with Trevor where you guys broke up and you see eachother at a party and there is a bunch of angst??

just about over you // trevor zegras

pairing: trevor zegras × reader

word count: 2.9k (i think at this point 1k+ words should be expected. i don’t know when to stop.)

a/n: hi !!thank you for loving my stuff !!! it means a lot

a/n 2: based on the song “just about over you” by priscilla block

a/n 3: i love getting requests but i will always be scared that the person won’t like what i write so once again i’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted

warnings: alcohol/drinking, small mention of cheating, and angst with no comfort, no part two

I stopped looking for your truck

Every time I go somewhere

I don't scroll through the past anymore

It had been months and finally he was almost completely out of your mind. You didn't catch yourself looking for his bronco every time you left the house. You use to spend hours looking around trying to find it. Now you didn't even think about looking.

You didn't spend hours scrolling through your camera roll, remembering how it was. The photos had finally been deleted. Erased from your phone.

I'm finally putting on the shirt I like

Tight jeans, big hoops with my hair up high

It was your birthday. It was your day. The music was blasting through your speakers. Your best friends performing synchronized dance routines when you got back with the drinks for pre-gaming. Laughter filled the air. This is what you wanted for the rest of the night, for the rest of your life. No drama, no crying, no heartbreak.

You started doing your makeup while Sarah did your hair. Jacob was pouring shots and Emma was digging through your closet looking for what you were going to wear. 'Birthday sex is the goal tonight,' she had said earlier and honestly you weren't opposed to the idea. Sure it had been ages since you tried or thought about looking for a random hookup but you had always been good at it in the past. You’d be a little rusty but that wasn’t anything a few shots couldn’t fix.

"And we..." Sarah dragged out as she did some final touches on your hair, "are done!" She clapped. You made some final touches on your makeup before turning to your three best friends. They all broke out in applause. You bowed at their applause playfully.

"And now for the outfit." Emma smiled as she handed it to you.

You took a peek and saw the shirt laying on top of the folded pile. It was your old favorite clubbing and bar hopping top. The one that didn't leave much to the imagination and you loved it. The jeans she had picked showed off every curve. The chunky heeled boots tied everything together. You smirked. Birthday sex was the goal and you were definitely going to be scoring tonight.

"Time for accessories and shots!" Emma held out a pair of hoop earrings in one hand and a shot in the other. You gladly took the shot glass from her hand and threw it back. Your friends cheered before taking their own.

When everyone's shot were gone Emma, Sarah, and Jacob looked at each other with smirks. Jacob raised his eyebrows in question, and Emma nodded her head.

"You know I hate whatever is going on right now," you said as you squinted your eyes. You watched as Jacob and Sarah ran out of your room like they were running a marathon. "And I really hated that," you pointed. "What are y'all up to?"

"Don't worry about it," Emma smiled. "Turn around and close your eyes, I'm gonna lead you to the kitchen."

You huffed before turning around. As she led you backwards you could hear Sarah and Jacob shuffling around and whispering to each other. Finally Emma stopped and stepped away from you then the noises stopped.

"Turn around!" They yelled in unison. When you turned you saw Jacob holding a cake with 22 candles on it, Sarah held a birthday sash, and Emma had a birthday tiara. Tears welled in your eyes. Your heart melted. They began to sing happy birthday to you. You felt so much happiness in this moment, you felt so much love.

"Make a wish," Sarah whispered. You closed your eyes and tried to think of something. When you did you blew out the candles and smiled.

"Fuck you guys, you're gonna make me cry and ruin my makeup," you joked. They all put down what they were holding and ran up to you. "I love you guys so much." The group hug was a little suffocating but you didn't care. You all pulled away and Sarah checked to see if your makeup was still in tact.

"Put these on so we can go get black out drunk!" Emma squealed and grabbed the sash and tiara.

"I'm sorry but she is not wearing the tiara," Sarah said as she grabbed the sash and carefully put it on you.

"Why not?" Emma questioned

"Because I spent forever on her hair and I am not going to let anything ruin it." You and Jacob leaned forward against the counter and watched as Emma and Sarah playfully argued. Jacob bumped your shoulder.

"What'd you wish for?" He asked softly before swiping a finger full of icing from the cake.

"Even if I wanted to tell you, which I don't, Sarah would kill me. You know how she is about these kinds of things," you smiled.

"Fair enough," he bumped you again before standing up straight. "Okay, okay come on you two. She's wearing the sash that's good enough, now let's go," Jacob ushered us all to the door. Emma accepted defeat.

The walk to the bar was filled with laughter and linked arms. You couldn't wait, this bar had been your favorite bar since that night you randomly wondered into it. Sure it could get packed but the atmosphere was amazing. It felt warm and welcoming, but also alive and crazy and you loved it. You loved it so much and came so often that you even became friends with the owner, Will.

When you walked through the doors you flinched when you heard a loud 'Happy Birthday!' being screamed in your ear.

"Jesus Christ I think I just had a heart attack!" You huffed grabbing your chest. You looked up and saw Will. "Are you trying to kill your favorite regular?" You punched his arm.

"I would never! Who would drink all of my bottom shelf liquor?" He joked as he pulled in for a hug. You knew he was right so you didn't argue. He bent down to whisper in your ear. "All your drinks are on the house tonight just don't tell any of the people who offer to buy you a birthday drink." You looked up at him and laughed. "Hey, I gotta make some money before you drink me dry."

"Walk away before I punch you," you joked. You turned to your friends and huddled up. "Drinks on the house but I accept any and all birthday drink offers." You smiled. Emma pulled away immediately and put her fists in the air.

"To the bar!" She marched and dragged you all with her.

It was times like these that you were thankful you had such a high alcohol tolerance because you didn't know how many drinks you had been bought, and honestly you were okay with that. You got free alcohol and Will got money. A win-win.

You didn't even care that your feet were starting to hurt from all the dancing, you just wanted to keep going. You had jumped from dance partner to dance partner, and you didn't feel like stopping. You didn't remember the name of your current partner. You didn't care, it didn't matter. Before things could escalate Sarah ran up and grabbed your arm.

"I'm so sorry, I know y'all are really busy right now but I need to steal her," Sarah apologized. You didn't even get a chance to say anything before she dragged you off

"Sarah you're kinda hurting my arm."

"I'm sorry but we need to leave. Like right now." She pulled us all the way to the booth Jacob was at. You saw him gathering everyone's belongings.

"What why?! I don't want to leave. I wanna stay here. I'm having so much fun and I might end up having that birthday sex we talked about earlier," You smirked and wiggled your eyebrows.

"Guys guess who's here!" Emma screaming while she was running over to the booth. When she saw you her mouth instantly closed, she must've thought you were still dancing.

Now you needed to know who was here.

The least you could've done was give me the bar tonight

There was a group of guys, but only one stood out to you. His back was facing you but you didn't need to see his face to know who it was. Trevor Zegras. You couldn't believe it. He knew what today was. He knew what this place meant to you. He knew you'd be here tonight.

As much as that voice inside your head was telling you to leave, you didn't want to listen. This was supposed to be your day. You saw him turn around in your direction but you quickly looked away before you could make eye contact. You let out a big breath.

"It is my goddamn birthday. This is my goddamn bar. And I am going to stay and celebrate. I'm over him," you were sure of it. You had to be.

Sarah, Jacob, and Emma looked at each other, not believing you one bit.

"Are you sure?" Jacob asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," you responded quickly, maybe too quickly. "I gonna go get another drink!" You tried to sound excited, you weren’t convincing but before any of them could saying anything you ran to the bar.

You could've stayed with the guys, acting like you didn't see me

But you had to walk up, messing me up

"The usual?" Will asked.

"Not this time. I need something strong. Like really, really strong and please make it a double,” you begged then sat on one of the bar stools placing your head in your hands. You heard the glass being placed in front of you.

"Take this one slow please," Will said. You stood up.

"Yes, sir." You saluted, trying to keep things light and your spirit bright. You turned to walk back to your friends but you collided with something, with someone. You prayed to the universe that it wasn't him. You begged for it not to be him. But you could tell from his cologne that it was, the tattoos on his arm only serving as complete confirmation. You refused to look up. You just continued to stare and your now soaked top.

"Here." He tried handing you some napkins. No, no you couldn't be here. You shoved past him and ran to the bathroom.

I thought that I was moving on, but now I'm starting back over again

Why'd you have to come back in right then

Right when I was just getting good and gone

This wasn't supposed to happen. You had gotten over him. You were moving on. But now all of that progress and healing was being destroyed. All he did was walk into a bar and it started all over again. It was hurting like it was the night that everything ended. The night you caught him with another girl in the bed you two shared.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, your heart was racing, and your legs were about to give out.

Your friends, you needed to call your friends. You searched your pockets for your phone but it wasn't there. You had left it on the bar.

"Fuck!" You screamed.

You had to get out of here as quickly as possible. You had to make a run for the door. You could make it back to your apartment and use your laptop to FaceTime Sarah and tell her where you were. That was the plan, it was the only plan you could think of right now.

You took a few quick breaths before putting your head down and left of the bathroom. You didn't care if you accidentally bumped into someone as you made your escape. You only cared about getting out of there.

Stepping outside felt like heaven. You were free and you could breathe again. You leaned back against the brick wall to catch your breath.

That breath was quickly taken away again when he ran out to door, looking for you. He turned to you and you instantly turned to speed away. You made it a few feet before he yelled.

"I have your phone!" You stopped but you didn't turn around.

"I don’t care. Go give it to Will, or Sarah, Jacob, Or Emma." You couldn't look at him.

"Why would I do that when you're right here?" His voice was closer, much closer.

"Trevor…" saying his name out loud for the first time in months felt like you were speaking a foreign language. "Please walk away. Turn around and leave me alone." When you didn't hear retreating footsteps but felt a hand on your shoulder you wanted to scream again.

You must've heard I was moving on

You turned and looked at him for the first time since that night. The pictures in your phone you use to look at didn't count. You couldn't reach out and touch him like you could right now.

"What are you doing here?" Your voice sounded weak and you hated it.

"It's your birthday," he stated like it was obvious. You wanted to punch him.

"Be serious Trevor, why are you really here?"

"A friend of mine was here earlier and he told me you were here. Said you were drinking and dancing with anybody and everybody." He put the hand not holding your phone into his pocket and shrugged slightly.

"You heard that I was having fun, that I was moving on and you decided that you couldn't let that happen?!" You scoffed.

He said nothing he just looked down at your phone and saw that the polaroid of the two of you at one of Jack's bonfires wasn't in the back of your phone case anymore. He turned it over and saw your lockscreen was no longer the picture of you and him hugging after the game he shot his first big league goal.

"If you’re here to give me my phone, then please just hand it over and leave," you tried to sound demanding but you came up short.

He held it out to you. Your fingers touched as you grabbed it making you grab your phone and pull away as fast as you could. Fuck. It was all about to pour out of you.

I'm all about you

When I was just about, just about over you

I was just about, just about over you

"I was so close to being over you," you screamed. "So fucking close! And then you walked into my favorite bar on my fucking birthday. I wasn't looking for you and your stupid bronco every time I left the house anymore. All of the pictures and videos of you were deleted." You had to stop to breathe properly. You walked closer to him. "It's been 9 months. I haven’t partied in 9 months and when I finally do you decide that I can't?! That I can’t go out and have fun. That I don't get to finally be happy again. You decide that I should spend the rest of my life heartbroken over you. Fuck you! You are so fucking selfish!” You hit his chest over and over again.

“Okay that’s enough,” he said as he grabbed your wrists to stop you from hitting him again.

“I deserve to be happy! I didn't say a thing when I heard you were out partying every night for weeks on end, hooking up with a new girl every time. I let you be. I didn't show up and ruin things for you. Though I guess there wasn't anything for me to ruin. You were already over our relationship before it even ended.”

“That’s not true,” he interrupted.

“Yes it is! But I wasn't. I had to work to get over it and I almost completely over you and now I'm gonna be hung up on you again for god knows how long. You have ruined all of the success I made, I have to start over! So if that was your mission coming here tonight then congratulations Trevor! Mission accomplished!" You couldn't see through your tears. Everything was a blur and you were thankful because you couldn't look at him. You pulled your wrists away from his grasp and stumbled backwards.

You heard the bar door swing open and even though you couldn't see you knew who it was. Sarah and Emma came to your side. You couldn't stand anymore. Your legs had given out. You collapsed onto the ground and although Emma and Sarah desperately tried to catch you,they couldn’t.

"Trevor, I really need you to leave right now before I end up going to jail for aggravated assault." You heard Will say through gritted teeth. You saw another figure walk towards you and you knew it was Jacob. He grabbed you and pulled you up.

"Let's get you home and get some sleep." He whispered sweetly.

You were mentally, emotionally, and physically drained. You needed to sleep. You needed all the rest you could get because if you were going to have to relive the past 9 months. The pain, the suffering, the heartache. The crying, the screaming, the constant thoughts that you weren't good enough. If you were going to have to get over Trevor Zegras all over again, you needed all the energy you could get.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras angst #trevor zegras one shot #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras fic #tz11 #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl imagine

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squerlly · 2 months

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Hi could you write for Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty and Alastor reacting to a Gen Z reader who knows how to dance really well to swing music from the 1920s/30s? Maybe Charlie hosts a party at the hotel and swing music is playing and the reader goes up to dance, and the hazbins don’t think too much of it since they think the reader is going to do some modern dance, and they’re all surprised by the reader busting out the Charleston and doing it perfectly.

this took a lot of research and a whole video BUT ask and you shall receive!!! (I deleted this write so many times by accident *cries*) also you didn't specify the readers gender so I just made the reader female.

-SFW- (f!reader)

charlie, vaggie, alastor, angel, husk, niffty

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Charlie had recently told you about a party she was throwing to get more patrons to join the hotel and asked if you were going. happy to attend you bought a burgundy red cocktail dress with an off the shoulder neckline paired with black flats the day before. as the date of the party arrived you were rushing downstairs to catch up with the rest seeing people already swarming the snack table and bar as you head over were Charlie and vaggie were talking, hearing Charlie talk excitedly to vaggie about the amount of guests. "calm down hun" vaggie said putting her hand on charlies shoulder before spotting you "hi y/n-" "y/n!!!" Charlie said squealing as she gave you a bear hug, "Charlie your crushing me" "sorry, you look amazing!!!!" "thank you Charlie", were are the others?" "well husks at the bar, and angels being......well angel" she says pointing at angel who was flirting with another demon near the bar "alastors Satan knows were and nifftys out killing bugs-" "did somebody call my name?" a familiar radio voice called from behind you "hey Al" "hello my dear might I say you look wonderful" "thanks AL I tried not to overdress" "nonsense dear you dressed perfect for such occasion" smiling you walk over to were angel was flirting with the demon "hey babes lookin good" "thanks angel you look good as always" "of course I do, gotta look good for any extra cash if you know what I mean" angel says as he puffs up his chest fluff. rolling your eyes you suddenly hear music playing from the 1920s. you ask angel to dance but he declines "no thanks babes, but you go ahead if ya want" angel said before he walks over to the bar as you walk to the dance floor, as angel askes husk for a drink husk talks "your gonna let her make a fool of herself?" "shell be fineee, loosen up a bit would ya husky and pour me a drink while your at it" angel watches as you run up to the dance floor with the small few demons dancing, swaying to the rhythm of the music you sway your hands to match your feet, twisting a twirling with every beat of the music. as angel grabs another sip of his drink he quickly spits it out as he watched you dance "wha- were did she learn that!" "well ill be dammed" husk chuckles as he cleans another glass watching you dance, your lively energy being almost infectious as you bring more people on the dance floor. seeing all of the commotion vaggie looks seeing you dance "is that-" "y/n!!!!!?" Charlie says as her jaw drops, alastor wondering what's happening turns to see you dancing with the other demon "my I would have never guessed our dear y/n would know how to dance to such music" he says adjusting his monocle "it almost warms my cold heart to see" "ohh what's going on!" alastor looks down to see niffty looking around, "ooo that looks funn" she says before running up to you as you grab her hands to join you, twisting and twirling her making her giggle. back at the bar angel finishes his last glass "ya know husky that actually looks fun, wanna dance~" "I don't dance" "aww c'mon husky dance with me" "no!" "your loss" angel says before joining you. back with Charlie and vaggie, Charlie stands exited "lets join them vaggie!!!" she says dragging vaggie to the dance floor "slow down hun!" she says stumbling as they all join in to dance. alastors sitting and watching from afar with his classic toothy smile, almost genuine as he sees you all enjoying yourselves. alastors talking to husk says "good to know some people can still be lively in the underworld hmm old friend" "yeah whatever" husk growls as he secretly enjoys watching everyone have fun.

I cant thank you guys enough for all of these lovely requests I cant wait to finish them all, this one was so fun to make, I hope you all enjoyed this request!!!

-squerlly

#alastor #hazbin #hazbin alastor x reader

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the-lonelybarricade · 8 months

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Take My Hand, Wreck My Plans - Chapter 1

Summary: Fresh after her third, and final, breakup with Tamlin, Feyre decides a one night stand is exactly what she needs to get him out of her system. Except, her one night stand with a violet-eyed stranger ends up being far more than she bargained for.

Or; the one where Feysand gets knocked up from a one night stand. A contribution to @officialfeysandweek2023 Day 3: Family.

🌶️🌶️🌶️ ahead!

Read on AO3 ・Masterlist

Maybe, in hindsight, the third tequila shot had been a mistake.

The first one, though, had been strategic. Feyre had come to Rita’s that night with a purpose, and that purpose had rattled her to the bone. Her hands were shaking when she sat at the bar, and she frowned at her phone screen, watching the words as she struggled to keep her grip steady.

If she was going to do this, she needed a drink. An ounce of liquid courage that burned down her throat, bloomed in her chest and spread to her fingertips, loosening her body. It didn’t ease the tremble in her hands, but that had more to do with the small green text bubble that she’d been staring at since she got here.

Got stuck in traffic. I should be there in five x

Feyre set the phone on the bar so that she could run her palms over the black bodycon she’d squeezed herself into, hoping to erase the evidence of the sweat gathering in her palms. She was nervous. Of course she was nervous. She hadn’t done anything like this in… years.

It was Alis’s fault, really. Several nights ago, she’d discovered Feyre hunched over on the bathroom floor, sobbing into her hand as she sorted through nearly a thousand couples photos on her phone—again. It was the third time Feyre and Tamlin had broken up, which marked it the third time Feyre was erasing any evidence of him off her phone. The final time, she swore, well aware that the photos still sat in a hidden folder on her phone since she hadn’t summoned the courage to delete them permanently.

“Maybe you should go out,” Alis had suggested. “Meet someone new. Do something fun and impermanent.”

“Impermanent?” She’d blinked past her tears to force Alis’s frown into focus. “Do you mean like… a one night stand?”

Alis had shrugged. “I think it’d be good for you.”

Feyre had sat on that suggestion for a week, torturing herself with all of the usual post break-up rituals. Unfollowing him on instagram, archiving all the couples photos on her profile, stalking everyone in Tamin’s likes. And when Tamlin had posted a series of pictures of a barbeque from the weekend prior and Feyre had swiped to see her ex-boyfriend with his arm slung proudly around Amarantha’s waist—the girl he’d sworn she didn’t have to worry about—Feyre decided that maybe Alis was right. Maybe she did need to do something to help her move on from Tamlin permanently. She needed to find someone who could help her have fun, purge him out of her system for good.

In a surge of courage that Feyre now partially regretted, she had sent a text to her old college roommate.

I want to get drunk and slutty this weekend. You down?

Drunk and slutty? Feyre, did someone steal your phone? Kidding! You know ‘drunk and slutty’ is my legal name, of course I’m down! For real though, is everything okay?

Tamlin and I broke up.

Well, fuck him! Let’s go to Rita’s and have the drunkest, sluttiest time at his expense.

It had been years since Feyre had been to Rita’s. Mor and Feyre used to go to the nightclub semi-regularly when they had been living together in college, but Tamlin wasn’t very interested in nightlife and Feyre had stopped going shortly after they’d started dating. She’d stopped doing a lot of things, actually.

But she wouldn’t think about that now. She was here to forget Tamlin. She was here to get drunk and throw herself into the crowd of writhing bodies, losing herself in the music that he would have undoubtedly complained about.

She had forgotten how loud it was in Rita’s. Music thumped through the overhead speakers, set to such a high volume that Feyre could feel the bassline vibrating in her chest, elevating her already racing pulse.

“Feyre!”

A bright-eyed woman came racing up to Feyre, her long blonde hair swishing behind, falling just above the scoop of her backless red dress.

“It has been too long,” Mor declared, not waiting for Feyre to stand from the bar stool before she barrelled into her side. It helped that Mor was tall, especially in heels.

“It’s good to see you,” Feyre said—surprised by how much she meant it. “You look incredible, by the way.”

Mor’s red lips stretched into a smile as she ran her eyes over Feyre. She gave a low whistle. “Look who’s talking. You weren’t kidding when you said you wanted to get drunk and slutty. What are we having?”

“Tequila,” Feyre answered, fingers pinched around her empty shot glass.

“Really?” Mor scanned the crowd, lips pursed. “I was thinking I’d like a brunette.” She turned back to Feyre with a roguish smile and winked. “Tequila will do for now, though.”

If they were going to be dancing, Feyre was definitely going to be needing another shot. Usually by the time they’d made it out to Rita’s in college, they had already spent the evening nursing their low-budget alcohol that had tasted more like motor oil than whatever label had been slapped over it. Dancing hadn’t been an issue then, but that was a time when Feyre had felt freer.

At least now, she could afford a drink at the bar.

Or two.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Mor said, leaning against the bar after ordering a round of shots from the bartender. “I invited my cousin to join us.”

Feyre had a vague memory of the stories Mor used to tell about her cousin—one of her closest and only family members. It was good that Mor had invited someone else. Feyre had every intention of going home with someone tonight, and it was a relief to think she wouldn’t be abandoning Mor in doing so.

“The more the merrier.”

Mor grinned. There was a mischievous glint in her eye as she accepted the shot glasses from the bartender and passed one to Feyre. “To slutty new beginnings,” she said, raising the shot glass in the air.

With a short laugh, Feyre clinked her small glass against Mor’s, and together they knocked back their heads to down the numbing liquid. It didn’t take long after the heat hit the back of Feyre’s throat for Mor to grab her by the wrist and drag them both into the center of the dance floor.

The transition was difficult for Feyre at first. Her body was too stiff and there were too many people. It was difficult to keep from brushing shoulders with the other dancers while she tried—and failed—to copy Mor’s graceful movements while also keeping time with the upbeat music. Eventually, Mor laughed and grabbed Feyre’s hand.

“You’re thinking too much!” she called over the loud ambiance. Raising Feyre’s hand over her head, Mor twirled her in place, then tugged Feyre’s back to the front of her body. Mor’s hands fell to Feyre’s hips, flush against Mor’s as they swayed back and forth.

“Don’t look at what I’m doing,” she whispered into Feyre’s ear. There was a sensual scrape to her voice that caused Feyre to suppress a shiver. “Close your eyes and listen to the music. Move your hips against mine—does that feel good?”

“Mor!” Feyre whispered with a sharp laugh. Heat was rising to her cheeks, but she obediently shut her eyes and focused on the music. “Are you trying to teach me how to dance, or seduce me?”

Mor hummed impishly. “Can I not do both? I thought we were embracing our sluttiness tonight.”

“I’m going to end up wanting to go home with you,” Feyre said, only half teasing. She leaned back into Mor and raised her hands into the air, allowing her friend to guide their rhythm. “Everyone else is going to pale in comparison.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Mor’s voice was pointed enough that Feyre’s eyes fluttered open. A pair of striking eyes met hers, shining violet against the red lighting of the dance floor.

“Oh my—”

“Good luck,” Mor purred into her ear, before giving Feyre a soft push towards the purple-eyed man cutting towards them.

His lips were twisted into a devious smile, one that was eerily reminiscent of the friend who was rapidly disappearing into the crowd, gone before Feyre could scramble after her. Dancing couples closed into the space she left, pushing Feyre closer to the dark haired stranger.

“Hi,” she whispered, hoping he would blame her breathlessness on the dancing. “I’m Feyre.”

“Hi Feyre,” he said, flashing her a cat-like grin. “Care to dance?”

Feyre hadn’t even realized she had stopped. “Of course,” she said, though the music had become a distant white noise.

Embrace your sluttiness, Feyre chided herself, thinking of the way she and Mor had just been grinding against each other. With a slow, steadying breath, Feyre stepped closer to him. He was so tall that she could just barely wind her arms around his neck, and she was suddenly grateful she’d opted to wear heels despite how her feet were already aching.

His hands fell to her hips, warm and broad and far too respectful, considering she’d just pressed the entire front of her body against his.

“What’s your name?” She tried to mimic the way Mor had spoken to her just a moment ago—low and husky, sensual like the fragrant smoke blowing over the hard-tiled floor.

“Rhysand,” he said. “But my friends call me Rhys.”

“Rhys,” Feyre echoed, letting her tongue linger on the word, the same way she wanted to let it linger over the brown, tattooed skin she saw peeking through his black collared shirt. Why did that name sound familiar? She dropped one hand to his elbow, pushing it forward so that his hand slid around the curve of her hip and landed firmly on her ass.

“And what do your lovers call you, Rhys?”

“That depends,” he murmured. Those decadent eyes darkened, dropping to her mouth. “What would you like to call me?”

Daddy? She thought, feeling her entire body heat at the suggestion. That was clearly the tequila talking. Ordinarily, she would never dream of saying something like that out loud and now the word hung dangerously on her tongue.

She nearly said it. But she wasn’t that drunk yet.

Instead, Feyre took a solid moment to compose herself. Rhysand was staring at her expectantly, hardly dancing despite how their hips were flush and his palm pressed into her ass. She liked that he was patient, waiting to follow her lead, taking only what he was being freely given. More green flags than she was expecting from a stranger she’d picked up at a club.

With a face and body like his, she thought surely he must possess some significant shortcoming. At the very least, she expected he had to be a massive prick. But that didn’t matter. Because she wasn’t looking to marry him, or even have a conversation with him. He could be a self-absorbed asshole for all she cared, because after tonight she was never going to see him again. Which meant she could be bolder, say whatever she whatever—be whoever she wanted.

Feyre leaned up, curling her finger around his biceps to steady herself so that she could press her lips to his ear. “Tonight, Rhysand, I want to call you mine.”

He had to shout over the music to be heard. “Yours?”

“Yes,” she crooned, starting to feel the alcohol loosen her body, urging her to be brave, to be reckless. “Tonight, you’re only allowed to dance with me.”

The scent of his cologne tangled in the air, dark and heady like a raging ocean storm. There was no greater freedom that Feyre could imagine than throwing her arms open to the embrace of whipping wind, feeling the sea-spray in her hair and letting the riptide carry her to the vast horizon. At least for tonight, she wanted to drown in him and emerge someone new. Someone carefree and wild who couldn’t remember Tamlin’s name or why her heart was fractured.

Tonight, Rhys was hers. And she was his.

“Are you the jealous type, Feyre?”

From the way he posed the question, Feyre had the sense he found that appealing.

“I don’t like seeing people touch my belongings,” she said, playing into her new role. A seductress—an entirely different woman from the dull, caged-in Feyre who had walked through the door under an hour ago. “Unless that doesn’t apply to you?”

“Oh, Feyre darling,” Rhysand pulled away so that she could see the full extent of his grin. “I was yours from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

They’d hardly stumbled through the front door when Feyre’s back hit the wall. Her dress was already hiked up her hips. The hem had first slipped up when she’d wrapped her legs around Rhysand’s waist as they were coming up the stairs, and the hand he’d edged along her inner thigh certainly hadn’t done anything to help.

The fabric had been ungodly short already. Or at least, that’s what Rhysand had complained to her throughout the last several hours she’d spent grinding her barely clothed ass against him.

He said it one more time for good measure, gasping it against her lips—”This dress is going to kill me.”

“Then take it off.”

“Believe me, I have every intention of seeing you undressed,” he said. His eyes dipped to the cleavage spilling out to tops of the v-shaped neckline. He groaned, ducking his head to leave a trail of nipping kisses along the edge of the seam. With his face practically buried in her chest, he growled, “But first, I’m going to fuck you with it on.”

“Rhys—”

“Right here,” he interrupted, rolling his hips forward for emphasis. “Against this wall.”

His erection was thick, pressing through his trousers so that she could feel its shape perfectly against the soaked lace of her underwear.

Her response was compulsive and utterly reluctant. “I have a roommate.”

His head snapped up, rising from her chest to search her face for a moment, before he flashed her a shameless smile. “Better hope you can keep quiet, then.”

Oh, holy forgotten gods. Feyre’s muscles clenched at the idea—of the ways that he could help her to ensure she stayed quiet, picturing those large hands wrapping over her mouth. Or better yet, her throat. But they were both drunk, and likely incapable of staying quiet, and she was going to say more to protest, but he cut her off by slipping a hand between her thighs.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, at the same time Feyre whimpered from the feeling of his thumb swiping against her clit. “Have you been this wet all night, Feyre?”

Yes. It was a show of extraordinary self control that she hadn’t asked Rhysand to take her in one of the alleyways behind Rita’s, like she’d contemplated doing several times when he’d been slowly grinding against her ass and whispering absolute filth into her ear.

Filth like describing what he was doing at this very moment, sliding her underwear down her legs.

He asked, almost casually, “Do you think you’ll need something to help you stay quiet?”

Surely he wasn’t suggesting…? Feyre bit her lip, feeling an anticipated thrill spike through her.

Trying her best to summon the seductress from Rita’s, she asked, “I think that depends on how confident you feel about your own… skill set.”

Rhysand clicked his tongue. “So bratty, Feyre.” He’d managed to slide her panties down her legs now, and she watched in disbelief as he balled them in his fist and raised the wet, crumbled fabric to her lips. “Open.”

She stared for a moment, unblinking, realizing that she’d never actually tasted herself before—except for the rare moments she’d been kissed after someone had gone down on her. It had never been unpleasant, but it had always been brief, accidental.

As if sensing her train of thought, or merely observing her hesitation, Rhysand licked her arousal off his fingers and smiled. “Don’t worry, darling. You taste exquisite.”

A bit dumbfounded, Feyre obediently parted her lips, allowing Rhysand to slip the balled up underwear into her mouth. The cotton stuck to her tongue, wet and tangy from her own arousal.

“Good girl, Feyre,” he said, stirring something dangerous and exhilarating inside of her. His thumb and forefinger squeezed against her cheeks, as if feeling the space the underwear took up in her mouth. “Do you taste how wet you are? So eager to be fucked.”

Her cheeks were heating up, embarrassed and aroused and trying to wade between those two conflicting feelings. No one had ever talked to her this way in the bedroom before. They weren’t even in the bedroom, and a strange part of her was getting off on the idea that Alis could walk out and find them like this, with her underwear in her mouth and a stranger praising her for being such an eager slut.

Rhysand’s fingers returned to her pussy, gliding through the wetness to tease at her entrance. She gasped, the sound smothered against her underwear, as he slowly slid a finger inside her, then another, sliding them both to the knuckle.

“Fuck,” he swore again. “I usually like to—I wanted to make you come first. On my fingers. But you’re so wet, Feyre. I think I could fuck you just like this. And I could put you on my tongue afterwards.”

Feyre’s head fell back against the wall. She bucked her hips forward, hoping her meaning was clear—just fuck me already, you asshole.

He laughed, hurriedly dropping a hand to his belt buckle to free himself from his trousers. She watched, saliva collecting in the recesses of her mouth as Rhys pushed his pants down just enough to free himself. He took his cock into his fist, pumping the thick length with two casual strokes before he adjusted himself at her entrance.

Feyre dug her fingers into his shoulder. She didn’t think any partner had ever been as big as he was, and it had been almost three months since she and Tamlin had last had sex.

“Is this what you want?” Rhys asked, pausing with his flushed head right against her cunt. She could feel it throbbing against her—or maybe that was her own ache building, so unbearable at times throughout the night that she’d barely resisted the urge to beg him to just bend her over one of the tables at Rita’s.

She thought of the last tequila shot they’d had before they left, how he’d poured the salt line against her throat, the way his tongue had scorched a path over her skin.

With a small, exasperated huff, Feyre ground against the head of his cock, trying to fuck herself on him if that’s what it would take.

That earned another cruel laugh. “I guess that answers my question,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. “Pretty, needy thing.”

Then, with her head still spinning from his praise, Rhysand thrust his hips forward. Feyre’s hands turned to fists against his shirt.

“Oh, fuck,” Rhys choked out, all of his suave confidence suddenly forgotten.

Feyre was forgetting everything, too. Like how to breathe. There was no room for air in her body anymore. It was being squeezed out of her, escaping in a single, surprised gurgle as she became aware of every nerve, blazing white-hot while her body searched for a way to accommodate the space that Rhysand was demanding.

The wall at her back became a cool, solid extension of his body, caging her against him, leaving no space to squirm away as the head of his cock pushed into a group of nerves that had Feyre clenching around him, desperate to escape because otherwise she would scream and surely wake up Alis. Rhys felt it, because his eyes went wide, and a moment later one of his large hands was covering her mouth.

His eyes were dark, the color of the night sky when the moon was swallowed whole. “Right there?” he asked, stilling his hips, lingering against the spot that was causing splotches to dot her vision.

Feyre’s head lulled back, wondering if she found a version of euphoria that was so pure, it bordered on pain. She started babbling nonsense around the underwear, rendered into wet and smothered sounds against his hand while she began writhing desperately against him, grinding his dull head against that cluster of nerves over and over—until she was drunk on it, on him, on the way he swore softly beneath his breath and whispered, “That’s it Feyre. Use me. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

He allowed her a moment to chase her own pleasure, his full lips splitting open in awe, eyes half-lidded as he watched her grind her hips. Then, he started meeting her with slow, precise motions, keeping himself directly in that spot so that he was fucking her there, forcing her to come undone with every tortuous roll of his hips.

“Gods, Feyre,” he panted. “You should see yourself like this. You’re so beautiful. Letting me fuck you in your little dress. You’re so—” he halted, their hips flush together so that he could grind against that spot in one slow, deliberate movement that had Feyre heaving, spluttering against the underwear and his hand as she felt herself tighten around him. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

Her nails bit into his skin. She knew it must have hurt, but he only groaned, saying nothing in protest as she slid one hand into his hair and tugged. She wasn’t even certain what she was trying to tell him. Fuck me or harder or don’t stop. Or just please.

Please, please please.

It didn’t matter. Rhysand’s breathing was ragged, practically as undone as she was as his hips continued their onslaught. The momentum pushed her into the wall with every thrust, resulting in a dull thumping noise that nearly drowned out the sound of their slapping skin, or her gushing arousal, or the wanton moans he smothered with his palm.

His pace staggered a bit, and she thought he must have been close because he opted to drop his hand from her mouth in favor of rubbing her clit. She could feel her own drool against his fingers, wet as he circled them between her thighs. Some of it was still dribbling over her chin, but the mess that she’d become was the last thing on her mind while she bit down fiercely on her underwear in an effort not to scream.

Feyre didn’t know how to tell him that she was going to come. She tugged on his hair, a low whine building in her throat.

That must have been enough, because he whispered, “Oh, Feyre—baby, I know. Look at me, darling.” It was an effort, but she pulled her head upwards, meeting his burning violet eyes. “Such a good girl. You’re going to come for me, yeah?”

She nodded, knowing her eyes were as wide and wild as his own. Feyre didn’t know why, but in the midst of the surge of pleasure ratcheting up her spine, she felt suddenly tempted to reach up and brush aside some of the hair that was plastered to his forehead. She wanted to see his face, memorize the shape of his mouth as it slackened into an open ‘o’, moments before he leaned forward to kiss her—undeterred by the drool or the underwear or her desperate gasp for air as the mix of sensations threatened to drown her whole.

Rhysand groaned. The vibration lingered on her lips, then rippled, the final push to topple her over the edge. Feyre jerked her hips, uncertain if she was trying to escape or chase the ecstasy violently crashing over her body, causing every muscle to contract. Rhys kept her still, kept the rhythm of his fingers steady even as his own pace faltered. He gasped into her mouth, driving his cock deeper before his body stilled and she could feel the distant, pleasantly warm sensation of his release.

For a moment, the hallway went starkly quiet, disturbed only by their ragged breathing. Their chests rose and fell, brushing idly against each other like the sea over the shore. Eventually, Rhysand was the first to move—pulling his fingers from her clit so that he could push them into her mouth and pry the underwear free.

It made a horrifying squelching sound as the fabric hit the floor. Feyre met his eyes, mortified, but his lips were already stretching into a smile that immediately chased away her concern. He thought it was funny. That tugged a small smile to her lips too, and then they were laughing softly together as Rhysand errantly swiped his thumb over her chin, wiping away the excess saliva.

“Do you think we woke up your roommate?” he asked.

“If not, we can always try again. In my bedroom, this time.”

Rhys grinned. His hands slid down to support her weight so that he could pull them away from the wall. “Which door is yours?”

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit—Shit!”

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

“Feyre?” Alis called. “Everything okay?”

“Just a minute,” Feyre called, in a voice which betrayed that everything was most definitely not okay.

She raised the small, digital stick closer to her face out of some misguided hope that the double lines were just a trick of the light. There was no way she was actually pregnant. She was on the pill, and she’d been taking the doses mostly on time.

Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic—

“Shit.”

#Take My Hand Wreck My Plans #Feysandweek2023 #feysand #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #feysand fic #Feyre x Rhys #Rhys x Feyre #Feyre x Rhysand #Rhysand x Feyre

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avatar-anna · 1 year

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summary: harry is oblivious

reposting because i may have accidentally deleted the original!

part one

"Please? I think you'll really like it if you give it a chance."

Harry shuffled uncomfortably as he stood by his car. He and Y/n were just leaving the pub they normally met at. They had a couple drinks together and talked, a typical date for the pair. They usually went their separate ways afterward, but this time Y/n had asked if he would come back to her place to watch a movie. Her favorite movie apparently.

"I don't know. Romance movies aren't really my thing," he said. The idea of sitting down and watching some sappy romance film for two hours was not at all his idea of a good time. He felt like by telling her no, he was sparing her his negative feelings and commentary about the film while they watched it.

"But it's more than a romance movie. Pride and Prejudice is a masterpiece. The acting and the story are out of this world, and the music is amazing. It—It's my favorite movie."

Harry felt really awkward. He liked spending time with Y/n, but he also really didn't want to see this movie.

Y/n could see on his face that he wasn't at all interested in watching her favorite movie with her. It hurt, seeing as she felt she was constantly going out of her comfort zone to do things he wanted to do—going to loud bars that played even louder music that wasn't exactly her favorite, seeing bands at dark clubs that had lots of smoke in them and sticky bar tops, hanging out with his friends at a different dive bar—but she wasn't going to force him to do something he didn't want to.

"You know what? I'm actually pretty tired. I don't know if I would stay up through a whole film anyway," she said, faking a yawn.

Harry, totally buying the lie, nodded. "Me too. I'll talk to you later?"

He kissed her goodbye, and they both went their separate ways. On the drive back, Y/n thought about the last month. It was good. The more she and Harry spent time together, the more she liked him. And she saw him regularly since he wasn't touring at the moment. They met at bars and pubs, or the park with his goddaughter, Lucy. And it was great, but as she got ready to meet Harry tonight, she thought about how she was always going out of her way to do what Harry wanted. Sure it was just going to the same pub a couple nights a week, but she wanted more. That wasn’t a bad thing, was it? She thought that by inviting him over to watch one of her favorite movies, they could spend their time a little differently, and maybe she could share a piece of herself with Harry.

And maybe even get him to stay the night.

Because of Lucy, Harry couldn't really spend the night. And since Y/n didn't like leaving her animals unattended, nor did she want to make things uncomfortable for Harry's goddaughter, she hadn't spent the night at his place, either. But this time Y/n knew for a fact that Lucy was at a sleepover. So she took more time to get ready for her date with Harry tonight in the hopes that he'd taken her up on her offer.

But he didn't, and now Y/n wasn't really sure how to feel. Perhaps she could've suggested a different movie, but now she just wanted to go home and overthink.

Harry didn't have to have the same taste in movies as her, she knew that, but she just wished he had said yes.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

A week later, Harry was texting Y/n while he was waiting to pick Lucy up from school.

Usually, every time a text came from her, butterflies erupted in his stomach. But for some reason, Y/n was taking longer to respond than usual. The text bubbles kept coming up, then disappearing, coming up, then disappearing. All he'd asked her was if she wanted to see one of his friends play at the pub downtown. Normally she immediately said yes, but now she was taking ages to respond. Harry had never been the type to fret over whether or not a girl would text him back, but the longer Y/n took to respond, the more his palms began to sweat.

Y/n: I'm not feeling well. Raincheck?

That made him nervous. Y/n hardly said no. If she was sick, she was sick, but this was the second time she'd said no to going on a date. Harry knew it had only been a month, but he really, really liked her. She was so kind, and so beautiful, and had such a gentle soul. He'd never felt so drawn to someone before, which was odd considering how different they were on paper. But she made him smile like no one else, and he wanted to make it work. And now she'd rejected him twice in the span of a week.

In a desperate move he didn't really think through, he pulled up Y/n's contact and called her. It took a couple of rings, but she eventually picked up.

"Harry. Hey."

Even hearing her voice brought a smile to his face. "Hi. Is everything okay?"

"Uh...Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. I think I'm just coming down with something," she said.

Harry frowned. Y/n didn't sound sick, she sounded nervous. "Are you sure that's it? If I'm coming on too strong, and you want to slow down, you can tell me."

It was hard to admit, but maybe he was coming on too strong. He and Y/n hadn't been together all that long. Maybe by asking to hang out so much, she was starting to get sick of him. He hoped that wasn't the case.

"No, that's not it. That's not it at all," she said, but didn't elaborate.

"Well then what is it?"

"I—I know that you like me, and I don't doubt that you like me, but...I just feel like we only do things you want to do...If that makes sense."

The butterflies in his stomach died when she said that. That wasn't true, was it? "I—I don't—Is this about me not coming over to watch that movie with you the other day?"

"Kind of? I just feel like we're always going to the pub or out to a bar for drinks, or watching rock bands play in loud clubs, and I'm cool with that because I like spending time with you, but that's not really my thing. Like at all. I was trying to share something I enjoy with you by inviting you over, and you kind of just shut me down immediately," Y/n said. She sounded hesitant, like she didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"I—" Was this really how she felt? "I just thought I was doing you a favor. I don't like those kinds of movies, so I didn't want to ruin it for you. I—I thought I was being nice."

"Okay, well let me do you a favor. I don't like loud, dingy bars, so I'm staying home tonight."

How the hell did they end up here? Harry just wanted to spend time with Y/n, and now she was angry with him. Why did him not wanting to watch a movie matter so much?

"Y/n, I don't—"

"I get it, Harry. We can only hang out if it's something you want to do," she said. "I'll talk to you later."

And then she hung up.

Harry was more confused than upset. He thought things were good, but clearly he was wrong.

"Hey, Wiggles!"

The back door to his car opened, and Lucy slid inside, strapping herself into her seat. It took Harry a second to recover from the phone call and respond to Lucy, but that was all it took for her to notice something was wrong.

"What's up with you?"

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, putting the car in drive and pulling away from the school parking lot.

“It’s Y/n isn’t it?” Lucy replied. “Did she break up with you?”

“No! Just drop it, Lucy,” Harry said, a tad bit too harshly.

Lucy did finally stop talking, crossing her arms and looking out the window angrily. Harry immediately felt bad, but he was too pissed off and upset by his phone call with Y/n to apologize.

The drive to Harry’s house was awkward and quiet, a rare occurrence for the two of them. Lucy usually told Harry all about her classmates and everything they did to annoy her at school that day.

When they finally made it, Harry opened the door for Lucy. She stormed past him without a word, opening the front door to his house and slamming it. Sighing, Harry grabbed his goddaughter's backpack and followed her inside. It seemed he had some making up to do with both of his favorite girls.

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“Lucy. I’m sorry. Please let me in,” Harry said from the other side of the door.

Lucy had her own room in his house, as she often stayed with him. He spoiled her rotten, her bedroom every kid her age’s dream. Well, kind of. Lucy was a neat freak and had a decaf coffee addiction, so her room was spotless and had minimal toys, but it was what she wanted, so Harry of course gave it to her. He was currently on the outside of it, though, waiting for his goddaughter to let him in.

“Go away.”

Leaning his head against the door, Harry took a deep breath before saying, “You were right. My mood was because of Y/n.”

Harry knew that admitting Lucy was right was a sure way to get her to open the door. And it worked, the door clicking open a couple seconds later. Her eyes were red, and Harry’s heart melted at the sight. He hated making Lucy upset.

Sniffling, she asked, “What did you do?”

“Now, why do you assume it was something I did?” he asked with a grin.

Lucy rolled her eyes, recovering quickly. “Because you're a man. Duh.”

“Well, why don't I explain, and you can tell me what I did wrong," he suggested, hoisting her up onto his hip. She was a little old for that, but she enjoyed being carried from place to place every now and again.

Harry set her down in the kitchen so he could start on dinner. Lucy “managed” as she always did, watching as he moved about the kitchen. While he cooked, he loosely explained his phone call with Y/n. Perhaps it was a little odd to be confiding in a ten year old, but Lucy liked being included and Harry didn't really mind sharing.

“I’d be mad at you too,” Lucy finally said.

“I don’t get why, though,” Harry said. “I thought things were fine.”

“Have you ever taken Y/n out on an actual date?”

That stopped Harry in his tracks. “What do you mean? Of course we've been on dates.”

Lucy's face was completely unconvinced. “I think your idea of a date and the rest of the female population’s idea of a date might be very different. Maybe she feels like just another one of your friends.”

Squinting down at his goddaughter, Harry said, “What do you know about dating, hm? Do I need to scare off any boys? Girls?”

Harry teased and played with Lucy the rest of the night. When she went to bed, though, he had much to think about.

Was he not a good boyfriend? Harry thought he and Y/n were getting along really well, but maybe Lucy had a point. Maybe meeting and talking at pubs wasn't enough. What did Y/n call them? Dingy? How did he not realize that she wouldn't like something like that? He'd never been the dating type, so he didn't really know what to do when it came to this kind of thing. He thought just spending time together would be sufficient, but apparently not.

Y/n gardened and sold flowers for a living. She had a pet cow and taught Lucy how to make flower crowns and crochet little hats and bandanas. She wore pastels and pink and champagne-colored shimmer on her eyes. How did he ever think that she would enjoy a dark bar that only served three kinds of beer or a concert with a mosh pit? Harry liked them just fine, but that made him even more aware of the fact that he was so different than Y/n.

Curiously, Harry turned on his TV as he got into bed. He searched for the movie Y/n had wanted to watch with him, hoping to understand her better.

Harry was sure he would fall asleep as the opening song began to play, but he didn't. He stayed up for the whole thing, watching aptly as the story played out.

Much to his surprise, Harry actually liked the movie. He didn't think that historical romance movies would be something he would enjoy, but there was something about it. The longing, the earnestness, and yes, he had to admit that the love story that played throughout was good too, and he could see someone like Y/n loving everything about this movie.

But it also had him thinking. Was that what Y/n wanted? A Mr. Darcy type? Most of Harry’s upper body was covered in tattoos, his hair was long and unruly, he once had an eyebrow piercing. He was in no way anything like the main character. He was clearly in no way a romantic. What did Y/n see in him?

Before he could think, Harry picked up the phone and called Y/n. She picked up after two rings.

“Harry? It's kind of late. What are you—”

“I’m not like him,” he said abruptly.

“Like who?”

“That guy in the movie. I’m not like him at all. And I—I don’t want to be. I like who I am.”

“I like who you are too, Harry,” she said, not acknowledging the fact that he watched her favorite movie. "Do you—Do you think I don't like you?"

"Well, no, I just thought because you love this movie so much was because of what's his name—"

"Mr. Darcy?"

"Yeah him. He's all posh and stuff, and I—"

"While I find your insecurity slightly adorable, I'm gonna have to stop you," Y/n said. "Harry, I didn't ask you to watch the movie with me because I was trying to change you or anything like that. I just wanted to spend time with you outside of a club or dive bar."

"Oh," Harry said. Well that was a lot more sensible than his downward spiral.

"Yeah 'Oh.' Do you really think I'm that shallow?"

Blushing, he said, "No."

"Good. Now, aside from that, did you like it?"

Harry stayed up longer than he normally did to talk to Y/n about the movie, and a bunch of other things. By the end of the second hour, he knew it was getting a little late, but he didn't want to hang up.

"If you're up for it, maybe we could watch a movie together instead of going to that dingy pub on Friday," he said, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry for being so mean earlier. I enjoy spending time with you so much, I just—"

"I know, I get it now. Our dates need a little more variety. And less loud music"

"Well, maybe more than a little variety," Y/n joked. "Maybe I can plan the next date? No romance movies, I promise."

Something in Harry settled at her suggestion. "That sounds nice. If I wasn't obvious, I'm kind of terrible at this dating stuff."

"You're not terrible. You're very sweet, and you watched my favorite movie all by yourself. You wouldn't have done that if you didn't care."

Harry blushed. "Thanks."

"Not to mention all the tattoos and the long hair and the muscles and the eye liner—"

"Okay, okay, I get it. Thank you, and thank you for being honest," Harry said. He really did appreciate her honesty instead of just giving up on him altogether.

"Of course. And next time follow my lead when I invite you over late at night to watch a movie, okay? Odds are, we probably won't be watching much of anything."

Y/n hung up before Harry could respond. His eyes were wide as he stared at his hands in disbelief. He really was an idiot.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles blurb

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ccbb2222 · 1 year

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You Know I Hate it When You Cry: Part 1. Rooster x Reader

Wellll here we are. I wrote an entire piece last week that got deleted and maybe it was for the best...here's take 2.

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader pairing

Summary: Something stirs in Rooster when he sees the new bartender holding back tears.

Warnings: *** This story contains Mentions of Abuse (physical, emotional, sexual)*** Please be advised this could be triggering. Angst, Eventual Smut, Protective and adorable Rooster.

18+ Minors DNI.

"You don't get to just FUCKING walk away!" A voice yelled through your phone speaker as you sat in the parking lot of the Hard Deck. Tears brim your eyes as your hands shake uncontrollably.

"I- I know, I'm, I'm sorry," You try to stutter out before being cut off immediately.

"You think I don't know what you're up to?" A dark laugh echoes after his cutting words, "You escape back to Miramar, fuck some naval men and come crawling back? You fucking slut."

His words cut deep, and you feel a chill run through you at the malice behind them. "I need to go," You force out. "Don't call me again."

Quickly ending the call, you block the number before more texts can force their way through.

Something I see: the steering wheel. Something I feel: the rough denim of my jeans. Something I smell: my perfume on my wrist. Something I hear: the faded music from the Hard Deck.

Taking deep breaths, you slowly ground yourself back to the present. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs and open your car door. You could leave him in San Francisco in a cloud of dust, but he knew where you ran to. It was only a matter of time.

Breathing out a shaky exhale, you open the door to the bar and plaster on the best smile you can muster.

"Hey baby!" Penny greets you with a grin. She's standing behind the bar filling up a glass with the latest draft beer.

"Hi Pen," You greet, walking towards her and ducking under the bar, placing your purse in the bin beneath.

"Doing okay tonight?" She asks with a skeptical look. Penny always knows when something is wrong, but she never pried.

She welcomed you in, tear stained and bruised when you showed up unannounced at her home just over two weeks ago. You cried in her arms that evening: the loss of what was once a magical romance, the life you thought you built in San Francisco. And although Penny, a family friend for as long as you could remember, was there to hold you, you just wished for your mother. Your supportive, goofy, and loving mother whose life was cut short by an untreatable cancer.

So as Penny, the closest thing you had left, gave you that look, you couldn't help the tears that slowly started to line your eyes.

"I can't talk about it now, Penny," You say, wiping at your eyes, "I want to just get through tonight, if that's okay?"

She nods with a sad smile, "Whatever you gotta do, baby. I'm here when you need me."

Unbeknownst to you, a certain brown haired aviator took in this conversation from across the bar. Ever since you started working at the hard deck about a week ago, he couldn't help but keep tabs on you. You were gorgeous. A bit shy, a little timid, but always laughed at his jokes and were always a good sport about Hangman's relentless flirting.

Your very first shift he had introduced himself and the rest of the Dagger Crew, giving you the scoop on the regulars and taking the time to learn more about you. What he knew about you was...admittedly not a lot. While you were kind and offered smiles to him, he knew you were guarded.

"What's got you so upset?" He softly asks to himself, leaning against the pool table and blatantly ignoring Bob who attempted to rehash today's training to him.

"Rooster," Hangman calls from the dartboard not even looking in his direction, "Stop staring and go talk to her."

"I'm not staring at her." Bradley defends.

"Uh, yeah okay." Phoenix snorts into her beer. "Seriously Bradshaw, it's getting pathetic. Go talk to her."

He sends her a glare before pushing off the pool table and heading in your direction.

"Hey there," You hear a soft familiar voice greet you.

Placing down the glass you were drying you notice Rooster standing in front of you, a soft smile on his face. "Hey Bradley, what can I get you?"

"Oh, just another draft please," He says, then runs a nervous hand through his hair.

You nod and start to fill a glass for him, noticing his free hand drumming a pattern on the bar top.

"Are you, uh, doing okay?" He asks before he can stop himself.

The question catches you off guard, so much so that you forget to turn off the tap and Rooster's beer overflows in your hand. "Oh shit!" You say, quickly turning off the tap, dumping the now frothy beer, and starting over. "Sorry," You collect yourself, the embarrassment turning your cheeks pink, "I'm okay."

"It's just that I noticed you looked a little upset earlier," He tries to not sound like a creep, and man, if he could just stuff these words back into his mouth, then he'd do it in a heartbeat. "I'm sorry," Rooster backtracks, "It's none of my business." He puts his hands up and then places them back on the bar top. The drumming starts over as his fingers nervously tap a rhythm against the wood.

"Thank you for asking," You hand him his beer with a small smile, "That's really sweet. Just some boyfriend trouble is all." You explain.

Rooster's face falls. He didn't realize you were taken. He also didn't like the fact that someone out there was making you feel this way. It made his fists clench. "I'm sorry to hear that," he manages.

"Well," You place your hands on the bar and push your body back, reaching for the dishrag. "I guess more like ex boyfriend problems. I don't know anymore. And I won't bore you with the details."

His head snaps up at the muttering of "ex", and all he can think is, tell me all the details, darling.

A few more officers approach and you realize you need to cut your conversation with Bradley short. "I should uh," you motion to the group waiting to place drink orders.

"Oh right, of course." He nods, before quickly adding, "You working tomorrow night?"

You nod, and smile when you see his eyes light up.

"Great, well, I'll see you tomorrow night." He says, turning to walk back to the group of aviators who instantly make fun of him.

"Bradley Bradshaw, huh?" Penny says to you as you fill another beer.

"Shut up, Penny." You say with a laugh and an eye roll.

"All I'm saying is, you were in tears when you walked in, and one conversation with that guy has you smiling ear to ear." She says with a shrug and a wink.

"He's cute, I'll give him that," You let her gloat for a few seconds before you remind her of the painful reality. "He just has no idea what he would be signing up for."

Surely Bradley wouldn't want a girl who wakes up shaking and panicking in the middle of the night, an ex that somehow still contacts her even though she blocked his number time and time again, and ugly, tender bruises littering her abdomen.

He needed someone fun and carefree. He already had a stressful enough life as a fighter pilot.

So as he offered you a smile once again from across the bar, you give him a half smile back before avoiding him completely.

He was too good of a man, and you wouldn't take him down with you.

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Soooooo thoughts? Part 2!

Throughout this, we'll see Reader struggling a lot with self esteem and not feeling good enough or worthy of love.

I'm really excited though for her and Bradley's relationship to grow. Lots of soft Rooster, protective Rooster, and sexy Rooster ahead.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader

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petalruesimblr · 1 month

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Sandy Shores Beach

Download Link: Sim File Share | MTS (for approval)

Description:

Welcome to Sandy Shores Beach, where sun-kissed sands meet the rhythm of crashing waves. Dive into relaxation as you sip on refreshing drinks at our outdoor bar, groove to the beats of Latin music and savor the taste of grilled delights from our outdoor grills. Challenge friends to a game of chess on our beachfront chessboards, or gather around our community picnic tables for some seaside fun!

Details:

Price: 23,915 Lot Size: 40x30 Lot Type: Beach Version: 1.42 Store Content: String of Inspiration (Wall) ⚠️ CC Used: None Packs Needed: The Sims 3, Ambitions (floor and wallpaper), Generations (wallpaper), Late Night (gothic column), Seasons File Type: Package ⚠️-Not included in the download

Hey everyone! It's a great day to share one of my earlier builds, Sandy Shores Beach, which I originally created for a small world that I typically prefer for gameplay. Initially placed on a smaller lot, I decided to move it instead to Sunset Valley and placed it at the Recurve Stand lot.

Click on the ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures on this lot.

This beach lot features an outdoor bar with tables overlooking the beach, perfect for romantic dates, as well as picnic tables with barbecue grills for Sims who enjoy cooking their own food.

Additionally, there are outdoor chess tables for entertainment, picnic blankets to get away from the crowd, lounges and a sandbox for children to play in. There's plenty of space for activities like ball games, tag or just running around.

I have checked the empty or existing beach lots with other worlds I currently have and it can fit in Twinbrook (42x52) and Appaloosa Plains (40x55) though you may need to use the Soften Terrain tool to smooth it out a bit for easier Sim navigation.

📣Please be aware that there are spawners used on this lot thus I would advise to not rotate the Beach Lot to avoid duplicate spawners and remove spawners when the lot is deleted due to them remaining on the empty lot. To check and remove spawners, enable “testingcheatsenabled true” and “buydebug on” after.

I've also included Public Picnic Spots, which will appear when using the same cheat codes mentioned above. Feel free to use the dropper tool to copy and place more picnic spots on the lot.

📣Please also note the required expansions pack listed in the Lot Details above especially those that uses the build items such as floors, columns and wallpaper, the lot would not show up in your game if you don't have those unfortunately. For the rest ,they are mostly décor which will automatically be replaced in your game.

Spawners:

2 Metal Spawner - Iron/Silver/Gold

Outside:

3 Public Picnic Spots

3 Outdoor Chess Tables

Turtee the Turtle

6 Lounge chairs

2 Boardwalk Picnic Table

2 Park 'n Grille

Bar Area:

Professional Bar Dive Edition

2 Paddy’s Irish Pub Stand

6 Bar Stool

4 Tables

8 Chairs

Public Bathroom

#petalruesimblr #the sims 3 #community lot #lots #the sims 3 beach #beach lot #ts3 #ts3 simblr #sims 3 download #sims 3 screenshots #ts3 download #ts3 screenshots #sims 3 lots #ts3 simmer #ts3 beach #sims 3 #ts3 community

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sparkling-ariaria · 9 months

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Steve Harrington fics I read and want to keep...no°1

*Complete fem or non-specific reader insert fics* Updated: 27.08.2023

Kiss the chef by ilovetulips - wife!Reader Reader has a bad week at work, and comes home to her husband making her recreating their first date to help her relax.

Gifting flowers by ilovetulips - gf!Reader

Les fleurs by cyber-bunnies - gf!Reader Drabble about Steve's love for gifting flowers.

Too much by ghostlyfleur - Little thought about Steve and his love.

Helping out stressed Steve at Scoops Ahoy by ilovetulips - gf!Reader

Drabble by lovebugism - modern!Steve x shy!Reader Steve meeting the reader at a bar and noticing she’s overwhelmed so he tries to calm her down.

Drabble by lovebugism - gf!Reader Steeve taking care of you after a bullying incident in school.

It’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. You don’t have to carry this alone. by lovebugism - gf!Reader

A lot of the Steve drabbles by luveline

Strawberries & Cream by taintedcigs - gf!Reader You make Steve a strawberry cake, and he wants to return the favor.

Attention whore drabble by ilovetulips

Lovesick Steve headcanon by forevermoreharrington -> basically all of forevermoreharrington's thoughts

Mine by forevermoreharrington - best friend!Reader Summer break spent with Steve who’s secretly lovesick for his favourite girl.

I get mystified by forevermoreharrington - shy!Reader A summer day with Steve.

First camping trip by lovebugism - ditzy!gf!Reader The one where he patches you up after a fall.

Movie date by lovebugism - shy!Reader He takes you to the movies to make up for a bad date.

Cruel summer by hendersister - Henderson!Reader Steve gives you a ride home after a late night working at the mall.

All the ways Stevie flirts with his shy, soft-spoken, easily flustered girl by forevermoreharrington

King Steve falling for the shy, soft girl by ghostlyfleur

Take me, so breathless (we could be reckless) by huntingingoodwill - gf!Reader "Let's get married." late night, whispered proposals, Steve’s dream of having six daughters and general sappiness.

Honey, honey by huntingingoodwill - music store!Reader After Eddie drags Steve into the music store across from Family Video, steve finds himself with a huge crush on the girl who works there, a crush that turns him into a mumbling, blushing mess. They bond over Steve's love for ABBA (well, he doesn't love abba. but for her, he might!).

Don't delete the kisses by huntingingoodwill Cute valentines themed friends to lovers trope.

I don’t want to think of anything else now that I thought of you by forevermoreharrington Steve starts enjoying working at Scoops Ahoy when a pretty girl starts coming in.

Lovesick blurb by bettysupremacy - gf!Reader

Grumpy blurb by bettysupremacy - gf!Reader Steve just wants to be alone with you.

Jealous blurb by bettysupremacy - gf!Reader Sunshine reader talking to everyone at a party and grumpy lil steve feeing jealous/in need of attention.

I don't care by allsmilesreally7 Meet cute situation at school.

Calling him lovebug by luveline

Secret's out by steddielvr - Henderson!Reader Steve’s crush on the eldest Henderson sibling is outed by a certain Sinclair who’s tired of watching him pine.

Dating a Henderson!Reader headcanons by kaylawritesfics

Making flower crowns for him by kaylawritesfics

Steve and Forehead Kisses by kaylawritesfics

#fic rec #stranger things #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff

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yuffi369 · 7 months

Text

Co-DM

P03 x GN!Reader

In which P03 realizes that, for as much crap as he's talked about for you not appreciating his game design, you may actually know what you're talking about, sometimes.

Since you'd managed to keep a back-up of Inscryption's files after... everything, P03 had managed to worm his way onto your computer system's drive. At first, he acted a lot more maliciously; accessing permissions to just about everything, your webcam, your microphone, any files... he looked through just about everything, and began to make moves to even take over your computer entirely.

You were smart, though. You'd managed to get to where the backup copy of Inscryption and all of its files were, and upon threat of deletion, he cooperated. He agreed to only hang around your computer and not tamper with any of your files, or compromise your computer's integrity, but he still wanted to hang around. You didn't mind this for two reasons; one, it did seem rather cruel to keep him locked up in the files with nothing to do, and two, you didn't mind the company anyhow, seeing as most of your friends were over long distance.

One evening, you'd decided to get some work done on a campaign you were running for your friends. The game was in two weeks, so you had plenty of prep time, but there were some maps you had to make, encounters to plan, and you had to figure out some plot ahead of where they were going. The next session would be taken up in the first half by traveling, so it was mostly technical things like potential encounters, which was probably your least favorite part of game writing. You didn't hate any part, necessarily, but your strong suit lied in the story parts.

You were so lost in your struggling thoughts, staring at the VTT interface with a stumped expression, you almost forgot P03 was there. "Hey, idiot, you going to move the mouse, or are you going to let the computer screen fall asleep?"

You blinked rapidly, sitting up straight. "Huh?" You looked down at the tiny P03, who was staring at you as he stood on top of your task bar. "No, I was just thinking."

"What're you even doing, anyway?" he asked, looking at the grid on the screen.

"Writing encounters for my next game session," you replied, scrolling through another webpage you had open where you had access to stat blocks available to you.

"You write games?" he said, incredulously.

"Oh, right, I haven't had a session since you've come around and started living rent-free on my desktop."

"What do you want me to do for money, use your graphics card for crypto mining?"

"No," you replied, curtly.

"Anyway, given your criticisms about my game design, I didn't think you knew a thing about game design." He crossed his arm over his body, rolling his eyes.

"This isn't exactly a card game," you replied. "It's a tabletop roleplaying game. It's based on war gaming, with roleplaying added in. So it's a mixture of tactical gaming and story-based gaming. Not quite a card game like Inscryption."

"Interesting," he replied.

He continued to watch you work- or, well, the more accurate words would be struggle to work. You tried, several times, to put down tokens on the map, only to take them back off after a few minutes of deliberation. Sick of watching you struggle, P03 hovered up to your cursor, dragging it around to get your attention. "Hurry up. I'm sick of the ambient work music you've had in the background for the last hour."

"Sorry, P," you sighed, genuinely feeling a bit bad that he'd watched you do basically nothing this entire time. "I'm not exactly the best at planning encounters..."

"Lemme help, then. Pull up the webpage with the stat blocks."

"Fine. But aren't you programmed to write for Inscryption, not this?"

"I'm a fast learner." He scrolled through the webpage, looking through the stat blocks. After looking over a few stat blocks, he pulled up a stat block for an undead creature, that had an interesting mechanic. "Here. This should keep your players from falling asleep."

You took one look at the stat block and shook your head. "No. I can't use that."

He looked at you with exasperation. "Well why the f#%& not?" he said, the little beep censoring his cursing through the speakers.

"Those are undead creatures," you explained, using your cursor to point at the stat block's creature type. "They're just traveling through grasslands. I can't justify a random group of these just showing up out of the blue."

"I dunno what to tell you. This stat block's probably your best bet for an interesting mechanic that's low-level enough to not kill your players. Maybe have them, I dunno, take a shortcut through a graveyard, or whatever."

"Shortcut through a graveyard..." you repeated, under your breath. After a brief moment, you bolted upright in your seat, pulling up your document and beginning to write at an accelerated pace. P03 probably clocked you at about 90 WPM at your fastest. Once you were satisfied with the narrative text you'd written out for yourself to read upon arrival to the location, you pulled up the VTT and began placing things all around the map, taking your time to make sure things were placed in logical, good-looking locations, making sure to add terrain in places for your rogue to hide behind and take advantage of. Finally, you put the group of undead creatures on the hidden layer to pull up later, and then typed out what loot was to be found in the graveyard as well as on the bodies of the creatures.

Once you were satisfied with your work, you leaned back in your chair, gazing upon the zoomed-out map with pride. "Wow," P03 let out a whistle-like beep, looking at the map with you. "Once you got started, that only took, what? An hour? I would've been able to make the fight really easy, but all that other stuff probably would've taken me the better part of an afternoon."

"Well, I mean, it does take me a while to write something good. But when inspiration hits, I sort of just... go, and don't stop. But I don't have those moments often, or at least not enough for my liking."

P03 turned and glared at you. "Take the damn compliment."

You laughed. "Alright, alright, geez. Thank you."

"Now, let's celebrate with a movie." He pulled up a window with a video player, ready to play the file.

You raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get that?"

"Downloaded it off yarhar.net while you were writing."

"P!"

"What? I scanned it for viruses, it's clean. What do you want me to do, pay for Netflix? With what money?"

You just laughed, shaking your head. "Let me go make some popcorn."

"And I'll... pull up a jpeg of popcorn, I guess."

#p03 #p03 x reader #inscryption #inscryption p03 #you guys liked the last one a lot so have another!! this time more modern/realism #this can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh but i'd like to think of it as 'roommates to lovers'-esque #inspired by the fact that i could feel p03 shimeji judging me as i wrote for my d&d game today lololol #also tried my best to keep the ttrpg unnamed so that it could be system agnostic #petition for p03 to Get a Damn Job

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mypoisonedvine · 11 months

Text

it's finally happening! another sleepover!

those of you who have followed for a while remember when I hosted sleepovers every saturday night, and they were always so fun. I'm too busy to do that now, but when I saw that I had (somehow, miraculously) reached thirty thousand followers (!?!?!?!), I knew this was the only way to celebrate.

so first of all, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who has supported me and my writing over the years!! you are genuinely what keeps me going and it's so amazing to share my works with you guys!

starting friday evening (exact time tbd but I will start accepting requests and other asks early!) and continuing through most of saturday, I will be taking requests, playing games, and interacting with you guys which I have missed so so much <3

SLEEPOVER GAMES

requests!

of course, requests. send a drabble/headcanon idea for any character/actor/fandom I've written for before (check my masterlist!) - obviously not every request will get written because I just get too many, but I'm gonna try to have a lot of diversity in terms of fandoms, characters, and kinks.

emoji games!

🎵 ~ send a character name + the music note emoji and I will tell you a song that makes me think of the character and why!

😍 ~ send a character name + the heart eyes emoji and I will talk about what I think they're like when they have a crush on someone!

💋 ~ send a character name + the kiss emoji and I will write about what I think they're like during a makeout session

🖋️ ~ send a title of one of my fics + the fountain pen emoji and I will tell you about the 'behind the scenes' of the fic, any alternate titles or endings I considered, etc.

other games!

would you rather ~ this one is a bit self-explanatory, but if you send me a would you rather question (ideally fandom/character related) I'll pick my preference and maybe write about it a bit (e.g. "would you rather hook up with eddie munson in a bar or be steve harrington's friend-with-benefits?")

fuck, marry, kill ~ three character names and I have to decide which ones to fuck, marry, and kill

spouse, one-night stand, best friend ~ same thing but slightly different categories, based on that one shitpost I made that has like a bajillion notes for no reason

reblog, sequel, delete ~ this is my version of 'fuck marry kill' but for fics! send me three of my fic titles and I have to decide which one I'd reblog to promote, which one I'd write a sequel to, and which one I'd delete hypothetically. not doing any random sequels and definitely not deleting an old fic haha it's just about which one has room for a sequel and which one doesn't!

other rules: 18+ only for the entire sleepover and my blog; this is a celebration for my followers so I ask that you follow me before you participate; please no necro/snuff, raceplay, underage, or scat kink requests; do not resend questions or requests, it takes me a while to get through everything; feel free to send multiple different requests/games just keep in mind I'm trying to mix it up so I won't do the same thing over and over!

tagging mutuals and friends who may want to participate, and who have been so helpful and important to me since I started this blog c: @quinnsmunson @starduststevie @mydearzero @earlgreydream @candyflossfairy @iraot @trelaney @wroteclassicaly @navybrat817 @breakoutt @mustyrosewater @syddsatyrn @littledemondani @writteninsaturn @pedgito @rosemaremembrance @ethereal27cereal @spiderrrling @hellfiremunsonn @foxgloveprincess @sagelunatic @always-andromeda @ebiemidnightlibrarian @sweetdreamsbuck @bubblebuckys @prcents @bruhlsbees @aarielsea @chrissquares @gogolucky13 @obsessedprincess @thesoftdumbass @whatevermonkey @inber @badwolfbadwolf @pedrospascalian @hornystan @cyberpunkyunho @serenalyon @emsgoodthinkin @ultraintrovertedgryffindor

#30k sleepover #IT'S HAPPENING!!!!

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thelukesalvez · 1 year

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Luke Alvez x Reader: Haunted

Request: Anonymous wrote: Could you write something about telling luke about your past (sad angsty stuff I guess) thanks love 🥰’

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: rape tw

A/N: Repost since being deleted, tw!!

It took a full month of you and Luke dating before he finally coaxed you into spending the night at his place. With promises from him of Chinese take out, movies, and lots of cuddles (nothing more), you knew that you had nothing to worry about. Luke knew little about your past, only that you preferred taking things slow, which he respected. Ever since the two of you met, he’d been patient, never rushing anything with you.

Only recently had you begun thinking that maybe you were ready for more with Luke. And you knew that Luke was ready, probably had been ready since their first date– but was a gentleman, and had been patiently waiting for you to be comfortable.

The two of you were cuddled up close on Luke’s couch, having a movie marathon, already in sweatpants. All evening you and him had been equal parts watching the movies and ignoring the screen in exchange for kissing. All you could focus on was how Luke tasted like spearmint. Luke slowed down and disconnected your lips, pulling you closer and pecking your head a few times before turning back to the movie. You suspected he stopped because he was just starting to get a little too antsy, judging by the way Luke kept fidgeting his hips. You wondered what would happen if you asked Luke for more right there out of nowhere. You opted to wait for another day. For now you were content with being nuzzled into Luke’s side, your head resting in the crook of his neck. You found yourself dozing off somewhere between your heavy makeout session and the end of the movie, your head falling limp against Luke’s shoulder as you let your heavy eyelids rest shut.

When the end credits rolled half an hour later, Luke nudged you awake. “Time to sleep.”

You nodded tiredly and looked up at Luke, offering him a groggy smile.

Luke flicked off the TV and helped you up off the couch, his steady grip guiding you down the hall and into his bedroom.

You shuffle to the side of the bed closest to the wall, knowing Luke liked sleeping so that he could be closest to the door. You don’t even remember him sliding in next to you, or flicking off his bedside lamp, twisting around to face you. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered.

“Goodnight,” you murmured back to him right before sleep took you away.

You fell asleep with your legs tangled with Luke’s and a warm arm wrapped securely around your waist, your face pressed to Luke’s chest, inhaling his sweet scent. But your dreams weren’t sweet, as memories began reenacting themselves in your subconscious.

“Through here, it’s okay,” he had instructed, pulling you through a dark, dingy hallway, the pounding music still audible. We were in the back room of a club, your friends still downing shots in the main room. No one noticed you being disengaged from the crowd and being led off.

The man pushed you through the doorway of a tiny, grimy bathroom. Phone numbers and messages were scribbled all over the walls and the toilet and sink were rusted over. Condom wrappers and joints littered the floor.

“What are we doing here?” You swallowed. The man had convinced you to go someplace quiet to talk, an offer you welcomed in place of the noisy bar. But by the looks of the dingy room you’d been taken to, the sudden dread filling your stomach told you the man had something else in mind. “I’m going to go back,” you attempted weakly. You start to back towards the door, but fingers wrapping tightly around your wrist prevent you from leaving. You felt the dread twisting like a knife in your stomach; and suddenly you knew how much trouble you were really in.

“We’re just havin’ fun baby,” he said, covering your mouth with his own in a sloppy kiss. His hands traveled to your hips, groping you aggressively. You could feel his boner pressing into your hip.

You protested at first.

“Please, no,” you tried, wincing in pain. “Please don’t.”

You turned your head away then used your hands to push against his chest. But with your drunken state, you knew you weren’t strong enough. The harder you fought, the tighter his grip around you grew, until suddenly, you weren’t fighting anymore.

The man quickly undid your pants, pushing them past your bum before undoing his own. You felt his hands roaming your body and his hot breath everywhere. But the real horror came when he pushed himself roughly inside your tense body.

You were helpless, in pain, and completely unaware of what you should do, so you froze, letting the stranger continue to push into you with harsh thrusts. He grasped your jaw, moving his fingers down to wrap around your throat. You shook with anxiety under his grasp and cried out, hoping someone, anyone, would hear your pleads.

“Shut up,” the man snarled, shaking you violently.

You jolted awake, twisted in Luke’s sheets and your hair falling into your face. You were gasping, desperately trying to figure out where you were and what was happening.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay.” A soft voice soothed.

That’s when you felt someone shifting next to you, and a couple of firm hands grasped your shoulders causing you to seize up and flinch away, the man from the bar still fresh in your mind.

The grip loosened, as you leaned forward, tucking your knees into your chest in order to hide your face. You slowly let yourself relax, your shoulders falling as you remembered your movie night with Luke.

“Baby,” a soft voice said, causing you to flinch. Luke sat up and flicked on the lamp. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

He took in your face, eyes wild and forehead slick. You looked back at him, feeling leftover tears fall down your face. You roughly wiped at them, unaware until then that you were even crying until that moment.

“I–,” you began, your voice raspy. You cleared your throat and began again. “Just, uh, bad dream,” you explained shakily.

Luke stared at you with concern. “It’s okay, you’re safe,” he whispered, grabbing your clammy hand in his own.

You bit your lip and tried not to cry as you nodded, feeling so embarrassed for waking Luke up like this.

“Talk to me,” Luke murmured, his sleepy eyes becoming more and more alert.

Suddenly, Luke’s gaze had you feeling increasingly self conscious. You looked down at the thin fabric t-shirt you were wearing and crossed your arms tightly, attempting to hide from him. You were exposed and vulnerable, you wished he would just shut the light off again.

You continued to stare at the maroon sheets wrapped around your knees, the wrinkles like a sea of waves you wished you could get lost in.

You didn’t want Luke to know you were raped.

Hell you didn’t even know if you were raped.

Did it even count if you had never told anyone?

Did it count if you had never uttered the words out loud?

Did it count if you had never fought back?

You felt your breathing increase the more you thought about it, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggled to calm down.

Luke’s hand traveled to your back, where he was rubbing soothing circles with his thumb between your shoulder blades. He was too good, you thought, as you continued staring ahead. You hoped you deserved him.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, you had to tell him. You wanted to, you needed to. You could trust Luke. So why was this so scary? Would he think of you differently? Would he even want you anymore? You shake the thoughts from your head.

No.

This was different, this was Luke.

You couldn’t look at Luke as you spoke, and at first you didn’t even recognize the croaked voice that escaped your lips.

“I was… um–” You frantically wipe the tears still falling down your cheeks. “I was raped.” The word left your mouth harshly, like they’d been bottled up inside of you for years. You supposed it had been.

You felt Luke’s hand stiffen on your back and a puff of air escape through his lips, but he didn’t speak.

“I don’t know who he was,” you explained. “Or why he chose me–” your voice cracked on the last word as you choked on a sob that had been stuffed deep within your chest. As you leaned over to cry, Luke’s hands moved to grip your hips and suddenly, he was hoisting you back and cradling you against him.

One hand remained planted on your hip, grounding you in place, while the other traveled to cup your face. His thumb ran along your wet cheek as he swiped tears away. You squeezed your eyes shut, burrowing further into Luke’s arms and just let him hold you.

“Shh,” Luke soothed, you feel his lips ghost across the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You’re not sure how long the two of you sat like that, but when you finally pulled back, you found yourself wiping your puffy eyes.

“Let me get you some water, okay?” Luke mumbled, he was already getting out of bed.

He pulled the sheets off of the two of you. “I’ll be right back.”

You immediately felt his absence, your skin grew cold, but your heart grew colder.

Thankfully he returned shortly after with a glass of water.

You were handed a cup, to which you took a long sip of, before placing it on the nightstand.

“Thank you,” you replied, giving Luke a grateful look.

“Of course. Come here,” Luke muttered, pulling you back into his lap. You didn’t hesitate, in fact, you warmly welcomed Luke’s arms. They felt like safety.

All of a sudden, you jerked your head up, looking at Luke earnestly. “Luke? I love you.”

Luke stared back at you, frozen for a moment before snapping out of it and pulling you into his chest.

“I love you, too. So much.” Luke promised. When was the last time you’d been told that so sincerely?

Luke held you close and rubbed your back, whispering sweet things to calm you down. “I got you now.” Luke leaned in close and kissed around your ear before whispering, “Thank you for trusting me.”

You nod just as a wave of exhaustion washed over you. For the first time, you weren’t afraid. You knew Luke’s tight grip would ward off any bad dreams your mind threatened to haunt you with. You knew you were safe.

You let yourself relax against Luke’s frame, suddenly feeling calm enough to give in to your desperate urge to slip back into sleep.

No more nightmares.

#luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x reader fic #luke alvez imagine #luke alvez #luke alvez fic #luke alvez x reader imagine #luke alvez x reader imagines #luke alvez x reader fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n

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jakeysfallingsky · 11 months

Text

Among the Wildflowers - Chapter 4 - Jake Kiszka x Reader

Hiiiiiii, sorry this is a day behind! I've been crazy busy. Short little angsty chapter for y'all. Chapter 5 coming towards the end of next week! Let me know what you think :)

18+ Content - Minors, do not interact.

Summary: You're a hairstylist in Nashville, and the boys in Greta Van Fleet become your clients when they relocate to the city. They quickly all take a liking to you, one sweet guitarist especially. Jake is patient in his pursuit of you, but will your self-created set of rules hold you back from ever being anything more with him?

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: Angst, mentions of alcohol.

•

It was a few weeks after Jake first asked you on a date and you continued to get to know him better in this new and intimate way, spending time with him when you could and texting him every day. Nothing was official, and there had not yet been a discussion about exclusively dating each other, but both of you were falling harder every day. While exclusivity hadn’t been discussed, you had deleted your dating apps shortly after your first date with Jake, and he only has had eyes for you for a long, long time.

There was a small bit of doubt that you’d commit to something serious that sometimes lingered in the back of Jake’s head, your words from your first date about not dating someone like him causing his anxiety to swirl. He didn’t have anything to worry about, but he didn’t know that for sure.

Jake and the rest of the band were called for a last-minute meeting at their office on a Wednesday. It was evening when they arrived, and their manager and a couple label representatives were there to chat with them.

Once everyone was settled in, the news was shared - Metallica was doing a short three week tour run, and their original opener pulled out last minute for health issues. Since the boys had previously opened for them on multiple occasions, Metallica specifically wanted Greta Van Fleet to take the opening spot, and tour would start in two weeks. It was a great opportunity for the brothers, especially with new music and a headlining tour of their own on the horizon.

Everyone quickly agreed to the terms and started signing the contracts, except for Jake. He stared at the packet in front of him.

Josh nudged his twin. “What’s your deal?” He whispered quietly.

Jake sighed. “It’s nothing.” He started to sign each line, his anxiety growing with each signature he left on the papers.

Everyone talked logistics and schedule for a while, and finally, the group was released for the night. The boys walked outside and Jake ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed.

“Let’s go celebrate with a drink?” Sammy asked and the other two nodded in agreement.

“I’m not feeling so good, you guys go ahead without me. I think I’m going to head home.” Jake muttered, not meeting any of their eyes.

Josh eyed his twin, knowing something was up. “You sure, Jake?”

Jake nodded, already turning towards his Jeep. “I’ll see you guys later. Have fun tonight.”

The other three got in their cars and got ready to head towards a bar. Josh watched as Jake drove out of the parking lot, turning in the opposite direction of his house.

It was around 9pm, your sweet spot for getting into bed, and you heard a knock at your door. You weren’t expecting anyone, so you continued changing into your sleep shorts and tank top and threw your hair in a ponytail.

Knocks sounded throughout your house again, this time more urgently. You sigh, realizing whoever is at the door probably isn’t going to go away. You tiptoe over to the front door and look through the peephole to see Jake, looking upset.

“Hi Jake,” you say as you swing the door open, “this is a surprise.”

Jake gives you a small tight smile in acknowledgement, his entire body is tensed. “Can-can we talk for a minute?”

“Yeah, come on in. What’s wrong-“ you backed up to let him in and he immediately attached himself to you, burying his face in your neck, cutting you off. His arms were circled around your waist with a death grip.

“Hey, what’s going on, Jake?” You ask as you try to shut the door while he’s still holding you tightly. He doesn’t answer but you feel him take a deep breath. You wait for a moment, but he doesn’t say anything. You just hold him.

You want to give him time to speak on his own accord, but the circumstances of this unexpected visit are leaving you concerned. “You’re kind of freaking me out. I need you to use your words, Jake,” you say softly.

He pulls back slightly and you can see how anxious he is. Teeth biting his lower lip, hands a little shaky around your waist, and his eyes are full of fear. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly and he means it. The last thing he wants to do is scare you. “It’s okay, let’s sit down baby.” You tell him softly.

You take his hand in yours and pull him to your couch. Sitting in the corner with your legs crossed, you’re facing him as he sits. He wordlessly tries to uncross your legs and you understand what he’s trying to do. You straighten your legs and bend them at the knee over his so you’re sitting close together.

He starts anxiously rubbing circles by your knees and you take his hands in yours and gently rub your thumbs over the back of his hands. You look at him and try to meet his eyes, but he’s looking down at your joined hands.

“Talk to me, Jake. What’s going on?”

He takes a deep, shaky breath. “We’re going on a last minute tour as openers for Metallica for three weeks. We leave in two weeks. Rehearsals start tomorrow.”

You gasp out of excitement. “That’s great news, Jake! Oh, I’m happy for you guys.”

He swallows and nods once. He lets go of your hands to run both of his through his hair, unable to stop his nervous habit. Finally, his eyes meet yours. He looks scared.

“What are we?” He asks you in the tiniest voice possible.

“What?” You ask him immediately with wide eyes, not expecting that to come out of his mouth.

He looks down and runs a hand over his mouth and chin and takes another breath. “I know this is so new but I just need you to know that I really care about you and I’m not saying we need to label anything tonight but for the sake of my brain I just need to know where we stand and I’m not talking to anyone else right now, frankly I haven’t been able to look at anyone else in months and months, and the thought of me leaving soon and you maybe finding someone else when I’m not around feels too real and I’m scared-”

You grab his shoulders and interrupt his anxious rambling. “Jake, honey, take a deep breath. I care about you so much too. I promise you there is no one else in the picture for me right now. You’re right, this is new, and we’re still getting to know each other in a different way, but I promise you that I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.” You start to rub his shoulders in an attempt to soothe him, but his hands find your waist and he pulls you into his lap, your knees straddling him.

Jake holds you close and buries his face in your neck. “I’m sorry.” He says in a small voice, his emotions starting to become overwhelming. He’s anxious, he’s embarrassed, he’s scared, and he’s already mourning the time that he’ll be apart from you, knowing that he’s going to miss you deeply. But out of all of the big emotions that he’s feeling, the strongest one is his affection for you. He needs you in a way that he’s never needed anyone else before.

“Don’t say sorry, we’re just trying to figure this out and we will, together.” You reassure him as your fingers trace lightly up and down his back. Your touch and gentle words start to bring a sense of peace to Jake. You always knew just what to say and do. He could feel his breathing start to regulate.

You feel him nod and he pulls his head back. You gently tuck some of his hair behind his ears and plant a soft kiss on his forehead. You loop your arms around his neck while he continues to hold your waist. Pressing your forehead to his, you look him in the eyes and his beautiful brown orbs are peering back at you.

“I’ll miss you and our sleepovers where I get to wake up next to you and your incredible cooking. But three weeks isn’t forever or even long. I promise you, I’ll be sitting on your front porch like a weirdo waiting for the bus to drop you off back home so I don’t miss a precious minute with you.” You tell him and a small smile spreads across his face. Jake presses a small kiss to your lips before pulling his head back, still holding you close to him.

“I’ll miss you more,” he says, “and I’m giving you a key anyways. So you can wait from inside the house and not look like a weirdo.”

You giggle and stay rooted in his lap. “There’s my Jake. Are you feeling better?”

His heart leaps when you call him yours, even if you said it casually. But he nods and sighs, feeling drawn to open up to you a little more. He knows he is safe with you. He takes a deep breath and moves his hands from around you to playing with your fingers, not able to look you in the eyes.

“Yeah, it’s just really hard sometimes. Things happened for my brothers and I so quickly. It felt like one day, we were just catapulted into popularity and this life that we knew nothing about. I woke up in my shared bedroom with Josh and Sammy one day and all of a sudden, we were touring constantly and recording all the time and then we moved out here to be closer to everything for the label and it all happened before I could process it. And things just continue to snowball and move faster. I’ve lost a lot of people, important people that I care about, in my life because of my job and it’s ruined or strained a lot of my relationships with friends and family and I can’t lose you. Not when we just finally got here. You’re so incredibly special and I don’t know why you want to be around me, but I’m so glad you do. It’s just… you just said that one day on our first date that you didn’t want to get involved with someone that has a job like me and I’m scared. I can’t lose you, baby.” He finishes with a sad mumble.

You take his face in your hands so he looks at you, and you see that his eyes have become glassy with unshed tears. The pain he is feeling hurts you, too. You can feel your heart breaking for Jake. He is the sweetest soul you’ve ever known and you would do anything in your power to make sure he always feels loved and taken care of.

“Oh Jake, I am so sorry if my words scared you. I would never want to hurt you or make you anxious or unsure of how I feel about you. I can’t imagine what it’s been like to have your career take off so suddenly and so fast, but I promise that I’m all in for you. I want to be with you, only you. And I want to spend time with you and get to know you better because you are an incredible person Jacob, don’t sell yourself short. I think the absolute world of you.”

He bites his lip as you speak and a tear falls down his face. You catch it with your thumb and tenderly kiss the spot on his cheek where it fell.

“Thank you.” He whispers and you hug him tight. Jake feels relieved getting that off of his chest and he can feel his heart starting to be put back together after your sweet, reassuring words.

“Can you stay here tonight with me? I don’t want you to be alone,” you tell him truthfully and he nods. You’d have him with you every night if you could, anyways.

You climb off his lap and take his hands to pull him off the couch. “Let me take care of you, let’s take a shower and go to bed.” He silently nods in agreement and follows you to the bathroom.

Both of you take your clothes off and you start the water, knowing he likes it to run pretty hot. You let him in first and you follow, putting your hair in a bun so it doesn’t get wet. Jake stands under the water with his eyes shut, wetting his hair, and then opens one to pump shampoo into his hand. You playfully swat his hand away. “I’m taking care of you, remember? It’s my turn to do this.” He giggles quietly and his cheeks darken, but he doesn’t say a word.

You gently push him into the corner of your shower where a built in seat is, and wash his hair. You stand in between his legs and give him a scalp massage and his tension melts away. His hands find your waist, as chastely as they can being that you’re both naked in the shower. Jake gently rubs his thumbs in circles on your waist and he leans forward to press a kiss to your stomach before standing to rinse his hair. You wash his body and condition his hair for him as well, trying to show how much you care for him through your intentional touches.

Once the water is off, you grab a fluffy towel for him and instruct him to sit at your vanity. You brush his hair and run some product through it, before blow drying it straight. You knew he’d wake up with crazy bedhead if you left his hair wavy and damp before going to sleep.

His hair falls to his shoulders and is soft and silky once dry. You kiss the top of his head and find his shirt and sweatpants left behind from the previous weekend that you had washed and he changes into comfy clothes. He brushes his teeth next to you and you finish first. “This is awfully domestic,” you say as you hand him your moisturizer to borrow and he chuckles. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” He says as he looks down and smiles. This is how every night should be.

You both collapse into bed and you set an alarm for early in the morning. “I’m sorry to have to get up early for work, but you should sleep in. I’ll leave the spare key for you.”

He pulls you into him so you can cuddle and you settle into his chest and throw a leg over his waist. His hand softly rests on the back of your thigh in a protective hold, keeping you as close to him as possible.

“Don’t say sorry, I’m just really thankful for you and for how you took care of me tonight,” he tells you shyly, “you’re too sweet to me, baby.”

“Anything for you, my rockstar.” You reply and he smiles before kissing you deeply. You break the kiss and settle back into his chest.

Jake is worn out from all of the emotions of the day and falls asleep within minutes. You hear your phone buzz next to you and you carefully remove Jake’s hand from your thigh and roll over and check the notification.

Josh: I assume Jake went to see you tonight. How is he doing?

You: He’s okay, we talked for awhile and I told him to stay. I thought it might be best that he’s with someone tonight. He’s good now, actually just fell asleep.

Josh: Thank you for taking care of him. He’s had a rough go with things and I haven’t seen him so happy in a long time. I’m really glad he has you.

Josh: Is it official yet or is he too scared to ask?

You snort before texting back.

You: I really care for him. And we’re definitely exclusive but nothing officially labeled. I’m sure we are heading there soon. I’m not worried about it :)

Josh: He’s so stupid sometimes.

You giggle before putting your phone on your nightstand and snuggling back into Jake’s arms. He involuntarily pulls you closer to him in his sleep and you drift off quickly in his embrace.

Your alarm comes far too soon, and you groan as you untangle yourself from Jake to turn it off. He doesn’t even flinch in his sleep, his soft snores continuing. Having him in your bed, waking up in his arms - it all just feels so right.

You speed through your morning routine and leave Jake a note with your spare key on the nightstand next to him.

Knowing his tendencies, you figure he would be a little upset if you didn’t wake him up to say goodbye. A goodbye kiss would be nice, anyway. You sit on the side of the bed next to him and gently move his hair off his face and tuck what you can behind his ears. Gently rubbing your hand up and down his back, you whisper his name and he sleepily whines before opening one eye to look at you. He’s too cute in the morning and you wish that you could just crawl back into bed with him and hold him close.

“Good morning sleepy, I’m going to work but wanted to say goodbye. Stay here as long as you want.” You say as you continue rubbing his back. A lazy smile stretches across his face. “Hi sweetheart, have a good day at work.” His sweet, raspy, sleepy voice gives you the biggest butterflies and you lean down to give him a kiss.

“One more?” He asks. There’s no way you could deny him. You press your lips to his sweetly and then kiss his forehead.

“Bye Jake, I’ll see you later.”

He hums and nods with his eyes already closed and you know he will be back asleep the second you turn around.

You head to work and Jake sleeps in, his phone alarm going off in the late morning. He rolls over to see you’ve left him a note and key by his phone and wallet.

Good morning Jake,

Sorry I couldn’t sleep in with you, but I hope today is a better day. I’m so glad I woke up next to you this morning. You’re the best space heater. Feel free to help yourself to anything. I’ll see you soon!

P.S. Keep the key, I don’t want it back.

The letter was signed with a heart and Jake couldn’t help but smile. He folded your note up and tucked it into his wallet for safekeeping. Grabbing his phone, he rolled back over onto his side to check his notifications. He noticed that your pillows and blankets smell like you, and he cuddled up into the blankets further as he scrolled.

Eventually, Jake got out of bed and got ready for the day, needing to borrow your skincare items again. Your bottle of perfume sat next to the face wash he used and after thinking for a moment, he retrieved his wallet and took your note back out. He carefully spritzed the blank bottom of the paper that didn’t have any writing on it and folded it back up once it was dry. He grabbed the spare key that was now his house key and grinned to himself as he slid it on his key ring, next to the one for his own house. Maybe one day, we’ll only need keys for one house instead of two.

Jake locked the front door as he left and made a pit stop at your favorite coffee place close to your work. He grabbed an iced lavender latte, knowing it was your favorite, and walked over to your salon. He knew you were busy and probably couldn’t say hi, but he wanted to surprise you and leave a little something.

Jake walked into the salon and Ashley, who was cleaning around the front desk, immediately recognized him. “Hi Jake! Oh, is that for Y/N? Let me see if she’s around!”

Jake thanked her as she ran to the back. You were in the middle of doing a tricky color application on someone’s hair and your gloved hands were covered in dye when your coworker came back.

“Your boyfriend is here! He has something for you!” Ashley says excitedly.

“Oh, um, he’s not my boyfriend, but you can tell him it’s fine to pop back here.” You tell her pleasantly.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake had wandered closer to the stations, looking at some of the art on the wall. His stomach turned a little as he overheard your words. Yeah, I’m not her boyfriend. But I really wish I was.

Jake was waved over and he greeted you with a small smile. “Hey,” he said shyly, “I know you’re busy but I just wanted to drop this off for you.”

“Aw, thank you Jake, what a special treat! That’s my favorite drink from that place. Can you set it on the counter for me?”

He nodded and set the drink down for you before placing a hand gently on your hip and kissing your cheek. “I’ll text you later.”

You meet his eyes and he’s looking at you sweetly. “Have fun at rehearsal, thank you again for the surprise and tell everyone I say hi!”

He nodded and waved before walking out. As soon as he left, your client spoke up. “He might not be your boyfriend, but I think he’s dying to be. I saw the way he looked at you! That man is in love.”

You blushed and giggled. “He certainly is the sweetest.”

“And hot.” Your client chimed in.

“Yes,” you chuckled, “that too.”

•

Jake was the last to arrive at the office and quietly slipped in the door. Josh was writing in a notebook on the couch and Danny and Sam were out of sight, likely getting set up in the practice area.

Josh looked up from his spot on the couch. “Hey Jake, come on over here.” He patted the spot next to him.

Jake took a seat next to his twin and Josh eyed him carefully. “You good?” Josh asked. “You seemed pretty out of it last night.”

Jake looked down and nodded. “Yeah I just… I just needed a minute I think.”

Josh sighed. “You really like her, don’t you?” Jake met his eyes and nodded. “Are you falling in love with her?”

Jake rubbed his hand over his chin and nodded again. “I think I am,” he said softly. I think I already have.

Josh smiled. “You’ll be okay then. You two will figure it all out.”

Jake’s smile mirrored his twin’s. “Yeah, we will.”

Josh then smacked Jake on the side of the head, the tender moment between them clearly over. “When are you going to make it official?”

Jake sighed. “I don’t want to scare her off. I just feel so strongly for her. I would have asked her during our first date if that wasn’t insane behavior. We’ve known her for quite awhile and I’ve cared for her for so long and I know she cares for me too but I get in my own head about things. You know how I am.”

Josh patted his twin on his shoulder. “Don’t be afraid of scaring her away, just talk to her. There’s no way she would say anything other than yes. I promise you, Jake.”

Sam and Danny then entered the room. “We’re all set up. Let’s go!” Sam yelled.

The twins stood and Josh pulled Jake into a hug. “It’s all going to be just fine,” Josh whispered in his ear and Jake nodded, knowing that his brother was right.

•

TAGLIST: @reesetrippingthelight @spark-my-nature @katelynn-gvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x y/n #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fic #greta van fluff #jake gvf #jake kiszka fanfic

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riddledwithrats · 1 year

Text

In The Midnight Hour

Oz Cobblepot x afab!reader

Chapter Two: Everyone Must Stand Alone

-chapter one, chapter three

Summary: Falcone confronts the reader and she pays for it dearly.

Words: 2,203

Warnings: abusive relationship, slight hurt/comfort, swearing, violence, light nsfw scene (18+ pls)

A/n: hopefully this one is as good as the first on lol, i had a lot of fun writing it. oh and of course i jumped at the idea of rewriting the deleted scene with selina to fit the story, that’s pretty much what inspired the story lol. anyways, enjoy!!

Walking into the club before it opened was always a shock, it looked so strange and out of place without the writhing bodies and booming music. The only thing that could be seen or heard was the rushing of the waiters and bartenders, and every once in a while the squeal or giggle of one of the dancers in the dressing room.

You spot Oz making his way down the stairs from his office, he looks like he’s broken a little bit of a sweat and is in a hurry. Despite this, he still opens his arms wide and smiles big when he sees you as his brace clacks gently on the final step. He greets you with an unexpected hug, his big hand engulfing the back of your neck in a friendly embrace.

These past few weeks you’ve been hanging out with Oz before going to see Carmine, even after that it still surprises you with how physically affectionate he is. Oz shuffles back a little and kisses you on the forehead before stepping back to take you in. He nods his head at your outfit choice and gives you a thumbs-up that makes you giggle.

You both know not to make any mention of these meetings to Falcone, you doubt Carmine would see it as innocuously as it is.

“Alright, sweetheart. I wish I could stay longer but I gotta take care of some stuff.” He grins wide, his gold teeth glinting in the already dim light of the club. He pats you on the back gently as you say a hushed goodbye, he walks off towards the bar and you make your way to the elevator.

You press the elevator button and the doors close incredibly slowly. You watch Oz at the bar, he’s speaking with a bartender. He throws his hands up and says something unintelligible right before the elevator doors finally shut.

When the doors finally creak open, you get an unsettling feeling in your stomach. Falcone's office is empty except for him, he’s sitting wide-legged in his leather chair. He’s turned to face out the large window, his hand is underneath his resting chin.

You walk in slowly, worried that ur clacking heels are disturbing him as you can tell he’s deep in thought. He turns his head in acknowledgment and beckons you forward with a come-hither motion of his pointer finger. You speed up and find yourself standing at his towering side.

For such an older man, he could be very imposing at times.

“Why don’t you sit down here, angel?” Carmine pats his lap gently, his soft voice calms you down a little. He looks at you softly. “Am I enough for you, baby?”

The words take you by surprise, behind his sunglasses you can see small tears building up in his eyes. Could this really be a moment of vulnerability? Or is it a trick?

“Of course, Mr. Falcone, you’re all I need.” You answer steadfastly. He turns his head to look you in the eyes, and that long-lost feeling of attraction towards him comes back in full force. His eyes look no longer hollow, but a sort of bittersweet affection settles in their reflection.

You lean forward and catch his lips in a small kiss, you lean your forehead on his when you lean back. “Is everything alright, Mr. Falcone?”

He grunts softly and looks out the window for a few seconds, but his gaze turns back towards you and there’s a low fire stirring in it. “Of course, angel.”

Carmine shifts you slightly on his lap so you’re fully facing him, his large, slender hands wrapping themselves around your hips. His touch sends a heat barreling down to your core, he hasn’t made you feel like this in a very long time. A small part of you is terrified of what urged this sudden change in demeanor. If he’s found out about your chats with Oz, you’re going to have to think of some very convincing lies, very fast.

“Y’know… I’ve been thinking about you, girl.” His voice isn’t suited to talking so softly, the low sound is making it rumble in a way you’ve never heard before. You ask him -in the smallest, most inconspicuous, voice you can muster- what he’s been thinking of.

“Thinking about those lips of yours…” He leans forward, his hand gently sliding up into your hair. He runs his hands through the strands gently for a few seconds, and your heart begins to thump in anticipation, perhaps even desperation.

But any good feeling you have is cut short when he snags your hair in an iron grip, he roughly whips your head back so your neck is exposed and he pushes your face next to his.

“You’ve been lying to me, girl.” His voice cuts through the thick air like a knife, you begin to whimper and thrash in his grasp but he’s stronger than he looks. He pushes you off of him and onto the floor.

He straddles your hips, the hips he had just caressed so gently not seconds ago. Carmine's hands wrap themselves around your neck in a quick motion, his grimacing face is right in front of yours.

“What? Did you think I wouldn’t notice? All you ever FUCKING DO is stare at him with those godawful eyes of yours, you want him to fuck you don’t you, you whore.” He shouts at you but you can barely hear over the thumping of your own heart in your ears. You keep gasping for breath, but your head instinctively shakes your head ‘No.’

He seems to come to his senses at this, your vehement refusal of his insinuation makes him rethink his actions. His hands unfurl from your neck but they don’t move very far, they keep you pinned underneath him at your shoulders. His grip is excruciating.

“You got five fucking seconds to explain yourself, girl.” He growls at you, his spit splattering onto your face with the force of his words. His eyes burn into yours, you can almost feel the pain he so desperately wants to inflict on you as you try to regain your breath.

“M-Mr. Falcone, I’m so sorry…”

You cough.

“I-I never liked him, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want him.”

Carmine looks at you with doubt written all over his face. “I don’t believe you, girl.”

“Please, Mr. Falcone… He’s... He’s…”

You have to think of something, anything that’ll convince him you don’t like Oz. You have to do it fast.

“I don’t like him… He repulses me, I don’t want him, not like how I want… you, Mr. Falcone.” The lie fumbles its way past your lips. You look up at him with tears in your eyes and your spit dribbling down your face.

“I-I… I hate him, Carmine.”

You hadn’t heard the elevator doors open, but you did hear the sigh around ten feet away from where you and Falcone were on the floor. Your eyes flick from Falcone's fury to the deep brown, disappointed eyes behind him.

You’re disoriented but the large man next to the elevator is easy to recognize. His wide shoulders and hefty weight give him a formidable figure, but his crestfallen face makes him appear softer than usual.

“Oz…” You whisper, but Carmine whips his arm back and crushes his fist into your head with a crack. You blackout immediately.

It’s a few hours before you wake up, and it’s to a throbbing beat coming from outside of Oz’s office. You’re laid delicately on his sofa, and his large, purple blazer is strewn across you. Your head is pulsing intensely and the left side of your head feels like it’s been split in half.

Opening your eyes felt like a chore, but it wasn’t nearly as difficult as keeping a thought in your head.

“You awake, sweetheart?” A soft voice mumbles next to you, and it’s at that moment that you notice the large, hefty hand gently running its fingers across your hair. Your head is close to his thigh, his left hand trying so hard not to hurt you in any way.

You make a noise of confirmation. “O-Oz? What happened?” You remember the fight with Carmine but you aren’t sure why you’re here of all places.

“It’s alright, doll, you just relax. Carmine and I had a chat.” His voice is comforting, it never wavers once and it brings a sense of calm over you. Your head is still throbbing but you can almost forget it when you lean back and meet his gaze. He’s been crying. You can tell, his eyes are red and watery and the skin around them is irritated from incessant wiping away tears.

You reach your left hand out towards his face, he lets you run your fingertips over his scarred cheek.

“I know you just got your shit rocked but… I can’t help wonderin’, sweetheart… Did you mean all that back there? ‘Bout how I… repulse you?” He says it like he doesn’t care like it might even be a joke to him, but his eyes give him away when they well up with a fresh set of tears. Oz starts to choke up when you don’t respond but he covers it up by clearing his throat.

“Look, uh, I talked with Carmine. He ain’t gonna bother you no more, I don’t want you to have to go back to him, he’s a brute.” Oz grunts and stands up in one fluid motion, although his bad leg jostles awkwardly once he takes a step toward the massive window overlooking the club.

“What did you do, Oz?” Your blood runs cold, Falcone was furious. There’s no way Oz could’ve made any kind of case for you that would convince Carmine to spare you.

“I didn’t do NOTHING, okay!” Oz shouts.

You jump back at his tone as his hand comes up to rub at the side of his face and down to his neck. He turns back towards you with an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. We just made a deal, alright? He won’t go near you and you won’t his problem anymore, that’s it.” He looks exasperated and tired like he sat awake next to you as the hours passed when you were unconscious. He probably did.

“Look, I know he was paying you, so what do you need to get through the month?” He begins to pull out his wallet. Your eyes widen in surprise and immediately begin to decline.

“No, no, it’s alright!” You wave your hands gently and stand up so you’re directly in front of him.

“No, it’s not. I’m telling you, it’d drive me crazy if I knew you didn’t have an income anymore, just let me do this.” His signature grin is back, and he’s counting out hundred-dollar bills. His ring clicks gently against a money clip he pulls out of the wallet.

“Oz!” You laugh in disbelief.

“C’mon, I don’t mind! Don’t you know how I feel about you by now? I’d do anything for you.” He whispers the end of his sentence as he hands you the stack of money, clipped together with gold and his initials. His outburst of vulnerability takes you back, how long has he felt this way?

“Oh, Oz… I don’t want your money. I can’t take that.” You step back slowly, gently pushing away his outstretched hand holding the money.

He looks offended for a second, his eyes beginning to well up with tears again, his lip quivering gently. But his air of mock humor comes back and he’s trying to smile through the obvious pain on his face.

“What? Not good enough for you?” He chuckles quietly, but he doesn’t put away the money, still insistent you have it. You’re not exactly sure what he means, whether he’s afraid you don’t want it because it’s ‘dirty’, or simply because it’s him giving it to you.

“No, Oz… It’s not like that.” You look away, scared to meet his watery brown eyes. Oz steps forward, his thick fingers softly turning your chin so you’re facing him. He leans down, an insecure but all too ambitious look finds him.

“I know you don’t see it yet, honey -nobody does- but Falcone ain’t gonna be around forever…” He whispers almost threateningly, his hands come up to your sides to grip your hips, but not roughly. “One day this city’s gonna be mine.”

When he steps back it’s like you can finally breathe, he took all the air out of your lungs as he looked you in the eye. His sudden passion has stunned you, you almost don’t hear him when he talks next.

“I’ll send for a car to take you home, sweetheart.” He says gently before shutting the door behind him, leaving you all alone in his plush office.

Your hands come to rest across your body and grip your hips. You feel something square in one of your pockets and pull it out suspiciously… It’s the clip of hundred-dollar bills. A small laugh bubbles out of you.

“Oh, Oz… I see it, of course, I see it. You're the only one who could take this city from him.”

#oz cobblepot x reader #oswald cobblepot x reader #farrell!penguin x reader #my writing #the batman (2022)#alright now i’m going to bed lol

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dnfao3tags · 3 months

Text

a guide to dnfao3tags!

hello there :] i'm kay, the admin of this blog. i've been running this blog from april 29 2022 when i made my dnf starter pack post for all those new to dnf fics. since then, i've made more than 700 posts and have added many features to my blog.

here's a little guide to everything and anything dnfao3tags!

(highly recommend checking my blog out on a pc, a lot more features are easily visible that way)

new to dnf?

as mentioned above, i have a starter pack; along with that i'd like to recommend :

my personal favs

my tag navigation page so you can easily find fics according to your wishes

i also have a masterpost of a significant number of fics i've recommended on this blog, however i don't often update it so its a little useless

every month (or whenever im free), i try to make a monthly fic roundup which i post in the first week of the new month; stay tuned for that

my trope wise reclists

spotlight fic recs from my bookmarks (dnfao3tags bookmarks)

all of my fic rec posts (dnfao3tags recs) - including reclists, spotlight fic recs, fic was founds, etc

posts made by authors themselves for their own fics (author post)

fic recs made by writers themselves (author recs)

there's also a dnf ship wiki surprisingly which might be useful if you want to get familiar with them

if you're confused about any references or something, feel free to send me an ask and hopefully me or my followers can help.

'can i help you?'

absolutely! while i don't accept any more mod/admins on this blog, you can still do the following :

rec/submit a fic (self-promo encouraged)

send me a quote you liked from a fic and view some dnf fic quotes here

here are a bunch of fic not founds that unfortunately were never found. take a look and see if you recognise any!

you can also send me fics to submit in the monthly fic roundup

sometimes i can't find fics for certain tropes so i crowdsource; check if know any fics for that particular trope and send them in

send some fic ideas you have!

deleted fics

i already made a guide to how i deal with deleted fics on this blog.

my Finding Deleted Fics: A Multi-Method Guide post.

if you're an author and would like me to take down your fics then send me a dm and i'll happily do it. if you'd like, i could also only share them in dms too.

fic not found

feel free to ask about any lost fics and i'll see if me or my followers can recognize it. please please Please be as specific as possible and also mention if you think it may be deleted.

i will post your ask asking my followers if i don't recognize it and if someone helps me out, i'll reblog your ask with the found fic so just keep checking the reblogs or the tags fic was found & fic potentially found.

searching my blog

if you open my blog on pc then you'll see one search bar in the header:

and one like this below the updates box:

the google enhanced search box is more accurate so i recommend using that one ! however, it is definitely not foolproof so i also recommend using my tagnav to search for a specific post because i tag pretty much everything. you can also send me an ask.

cool features

i have a music player ! you can send in songs for me to add to it

any tips and tricks i have for ao3 will be in this how to ao3 tag

want some writing inspo? here are some fic ideas

you can also ask me for song based reqs

i also have author archives for anonymous authors (eg. mario anon), deleted authors and orphaned authors

click this for a random post of mine

more stuff

i have a twitter (though i am inactive there)

please read my about/faq page before sending asks

i have a tag for any posts that aren't specifically fic recs and just me talking (kay talks) which you can mute if you aren't interested

occasionally i get asks about dreamnotnap which i sometimes answer; you can also mute that tag along with my not dnf tag

and that's all i can currently think of!

i'm thinking of adhering to a posting schedule so i might post about that later. i'm a bit more free these days so i'll probably be a bit more quick to asks.

hope this helped you guys out; thanks for reading :]

#dnfao3tags #kay talks #guide #blog guide #fic recs blog #dnf #this guide was greatly inspired #by the one that destiel fic recs blog has

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mlmxreader · 2 years

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Don't Let Me Fall | Holland March x gn!reader

@areyouwaiting asked: Hey! So, I’m not sure if you still accept prompt requests, I think you said something about it. If not, you can just delete this! :>

May I request a Holland March x gn!reader fic with the prompts:

“Why did you grab my ass?” “Instinct?”

“Are you drunk? Or just stupid?”

These just screamed Holland March to me,,, so :] kfjfjdkf

summary: Holland brings you along as his date while he's working, but he's not exactly sure who he's looking for and there's a lot to be said when he's around you.

tws: swearing, smoking, drinking

Music was thudding throughout the building, people gathered around in groups and wandering around with little to no care about what they were smoking or drinking, and as you hung onto Holland's arm, you couldn't help it; stealing the cigarette from his mouth and stealing a drag. It wasn't usually like this, you didn't often join him when he was working, but at the same time, he needed a date, and you were all to happy to be there for your boyfriend when you could. Besides, it let you keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't hurt himself too much; you still couldn't believe he had thought that smashing the window of someone's car with his head to help them get their keys back was any sort of a good idea.

Eventually, he brought you to a table, and a wave of relief washed over you as you sat down; he went to the bar to grab a couple of drinks, returning with a slight frown as he shook his head. "They haven't seen her."

You shrugged, gesturing around. "Look at how many people are here, Holland. I'd be surprised if anyone did."

Holland nodded, sitting beside you and putting his arm across your shoulders; he looked good tonight, he wasn't scruffy. A fine pink blazer and trousers, white shirt and a dark blue tie. He didn't look half bad, even if you didn't long drag him back from the hospital after he had decided to use his skull as a hammer; he knocked back his drink, lighting another cigarette to replace the one you had stolen, and he sighed. "Healy better get to the boyfriend."

"Don't worry about it too much," you told him, leaning into his side and putting your hand on his chest, making him stiffen up slightly as he grumbled and let his hand draw stupid and unintelligible patterns on your shoulder, daring to smile. "If you can't get anything done tonight, we can always just say it was date night... you did make sure the babysitter would stay until eleven, though, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I made sure," he told you. Getting a babysitter for Holly was a difficult thing to do these days, mostly because Holland often came home late and drunk and would hurt himself doing the most mundane of things, so they then had to drag his ass to the hospital. Again. Then the hospital would call you, and you would have to deal with everything. He was an idiot, but he was your idiot. "What, do you think I'm stupid? Wait, don't answer that."

You couldn't help but to laugh softly, grabbing your drink and taking a swig from it as you finished the stolen cigarette and chucked it onto the ashtray. "Come on, we should go see if we can find this... I wanna say nurse?"

"Yeah, she's a nurse. I think? I think that's what Healy told me."

Music became louder as you made your way to the main section of the party; a dance floor packed tightly with people who danced and sang along loudly, some of them kissing and keeping one another close. You could feel something drifting down your back, and when you felt pressure on your ass, you turned to Holland.

"Why did you grab my ass?"

"Instinct?" He shrugged, retracting his hand until you shook your head and told him that he could keep it there. He let his hand fall into your back pocket. A smile on his lips as he hummed to himself.

You passed the dance floor, scowling a little at the smell of sweat and alcohol, hardly a desirable mix even if you were used to it; but you soon found yourselves on a balcolny, and when Holland went to sit at the edge of it, you grabbed his tie, and pulled him so close that he could feel your breath on his lips, making him grin as he leaned forward. Begging for a kiss with that dopey smile and look in his eyes.

"Are you drunk? Or just stupid?"

"What?" He chuckled, licking his lips.

"Holland, I mean this in the kindest way possible," you started, "but last time you were on the edge of a balcolny, you fucking fell over and went face-first into a pool by nothing more than dumb luck."

He pushed himself forward so that his feet were planted on the ground, keeping you between his legs as he dared to put his hands on you; holding you by the hips as he tilted his head to the side and dared to look down at your lips for a moment. But then he snapped his gaze back up to meet yours. When you ran your hand through his hair, still holding his tie tightly, he leaned into the touch and hummed softly.

"You won't let me fall?"

"No!" You all but yelped. "Why the fuck would I let you fall?"

Holland shrugged, daring to laugh a little. "I dunno... maybe you wanna go see that weird horror film without me."

"You mean la casa sperduta nel parco?" You asked, and when he nodded, you scoffed. "Why would I wanna see it without you?"

"So you don't have to see me scared," he mused.

But you only rolled your eyes, pulling him a little closer with a soft tug to his tie, hardly able to keep the smile from your face as you laced your fingers in his hair and pulled him in for a soft kiss. "Holland... I have seen you scared of a fuck tonne of things, like that tiny spider that was in the kitchen sink. I'm not gonna ditch you now just because of some Ruggero Deodato flick... besides, even if I did wanna see it without you, I'd just go when you're at work. I'm not gonna let you fall."

"Really?" He asked, daring to stand up. "Because I think I've fallen for you."

You put your hands on his waist, keeping him upright as you rolled your eyes at such a stupid remark; no one could make you laugh like him. No one could be so fucking stupid and yet be so endearing. No one but Holland. Sure, you had your doubts about the relationship to begin with; with his drinking, his grief, his job, things didn't start out easy for either of you. But now... now things were going well. He made sure that those doubts were gone. Sure, he still drank, he still had his moments, but he made it known that he loved you; he even managed to make it legal that you were Holly's step-parent even if marriage wasn't something you and Holland had talked about before.

You were sure that he didn't want to, you were sure that he didn't want to remarry, and you were just fine with that; sure, it would have been nice. It would have been nice in the same way that ice in your drink on a hot day would have been nice; you didn't necessarily need it, or want it particularly badly. You were content to just be his partner, to let him be your boyfriend and nothing more. You were content with that, and as you looked at him now, so fucking proud of himself for that shitty pick up line, you couldn't help but to laugh.

"You're such an idiot."

He sat at the edge of the balcony again, making sure to sit close enough that his feet were on the floor as he grabbed your ass again. "You put up with it."

"Unfortunately," you joked. "C'mon, you're meant to be working. We have to find that nurse or whatever she is... are you sure that Healy said she was a nurse?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "I wasn't really listening."

"You were drunk," you corrected. "Be honest."

"A little bit."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #holland march imagine #holland march x reader #Holland March #the nice guys x reader #the nice guys fanfiction #the nice guys imagine #the nice guys #ryan gosling imagine #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling

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