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damnyn-blog · 5 years

Note

159 from the 200 prompts list for FAHC Ryan? Love your blog!

Aw, thanks!

159- “Didn’t you read the sign?”

AO3

Barbed wire sucks. Its not like its that hard to get over, but its still an inconvenience. You guess that’s kind of the point, a deterrent, makes it so that anyone who wasn’t already set on being on the other side of the barbed wire wouldn’t bother. Unfortunately, you were pretty set on getting to the other side, so now you had a gash in your right calf.

On the other side of the barbed wire was the airport. In that airport was a really fucking sweet helicopter that you really wanted for yourself, and that was the reason that you had risked maiming yourself on that damned barbed wire. Fuck, your leg really hurt. But that didn’t matter now because that beautiful helicopter was right in front of you, about 30 yards away.

“Stop right there.” a voice said from behind you. Shit. You threw your hands up and turned around.

“Is this not Carl’s backyard? I was just trying to surprise him, its his birthday tomorrow.” you said, taking care to slur and stumble a little. Hopefully this dude would just assume you were a drunk idiot and let you go. “You want tell Carl will you?” you added with a giggle.

“This is the Los Santos airport, didn’t you read the sign?” The man stepped out of the shadows. He was wearing a skull mask that covered his entire face. Huh.

“You’re not a guard…” you said. You went to drop you’re hands but quickly put them back up when you saw the creepy skull guy was pointing his gun at you.

“No, i’m not. And you’re not just some drunk girl. Not that I bought that act.” he said.

“I mean, i’m a little drunk. But no. So who are you?” you asked. Maybe you could convince this dude to let you get back to work. It seemed like the other alternative was going to be a fight, and you certainly knew which outcome you would prefer.

“Wow, I would have thought my reputation would have preceded me, especially with the type of person who breaks into airports.” He said with a laugh, “I’m the Vagabond.”

“And i’m new in town so don’t let my ignorance of the local criminal scene hurt your ego. I don’t have an alias and i’m certainly not telling you my name so you can just call me drunk girl.”

“Alright, drunk girl, why are you here?” he said finally lowering his gun, but not putting it away. That was a good sign.

“I’m here for the helicopter, why are you here? I hope its not for the same thing. Id hate for something like that to ruin both our nights.” I really did hope we weren’t here for the same thing. I kind of liked this guy, and he seemed to find me amusing at least. Maybe we could be allies at some point. It’d be useful to have some friends in a city like this.

“I’m here with friends, and i don’t really care about the helicopter seeing as i already have one. Id tell you why we were here but then id have to kill you.” He said. You thought you could here him chuckle. That’s good, he has a sense of humor.

“Well id hate to die on a night like this. Is my stealing the helicopter going to cause a problem for you? I’m fairly certain that once i’m taking off some one will notice there are people here who shouldn’t be.” I said, I wanted that helicopter but it wasn’t worth making enemies over.

“Actually my friends are just wrapping up now, so id suggest you get going before we cause a problem for you.” I raised my eyebrow. “My friends are about to get a bit loud.” He clarified.

“I suppose ill be on my way then, but before I go…” I pulled out a scrap of paper and pen from my bag. “ Here’s my number. Id love to see what you look like under the halloween mask.”

“Bold. I like that, ill call you. But first you should know something.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“This is my real face.” he deadpanned. There was a beat of silence and then we both started laughing.

“See you later, Vagabond!” I shouted as a started back running towards the helicopter.

“See you later, drunk girl!” He shouted back at me. I could hear the smile in his voice.

#fahc #roosterteeth #ryan haywood #fahc ryan #fake ah crew #reader insert #fahc imagine #roosterteeth imagine #fahc ryan imagine #ryan haywood x reader #fahc ryan x reader

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rosegoldachievement · 5 years

Text

Where Good Girls Go To Die (Chapter 4)

pairing: fahc x reader

word count: 2,615

series: Where Good Girls Go To Die

summary: You’re not quite sure what compelled you to move to the infamous city of Los Santos, a ruthless playground for drug dealers, washed-up celebrities, and criminals alike. It was very different from your small hometown in the middle of nowhere, where nothing ever happened and you couldn’t even leave your house without running into someone you knew, but perhaps that was part of the attraction. But, after running into your ex-best friend, Jeremy Dooley, you began to think Los Santos wasn’t so bad as it seemed. Well, until the bank you worked at got robbed and you managed to get kidnapped all in the same week, leading you to become stuck in a penthouse with six very deadly males.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter four

It had been a few days since the robbery, and you had just entered your apartment building. The bank still hadn’t reopened because of the repairs and some security updates were still needed. You actually had begun to feel antsy from staying home. At first, you had debated on actually going out to a nightclub or something, but your introverted side settled on grocery shopping.

When you made it to your door, a confused expression took over your features. Your apartment door was slightly ajar and it appeared as if the lights were on inside. Your brain kicked into overdrive, trying to figure out what exactly had happened in your absence.

Maybe Mrs. Gunkhouse, your landlord, had stopped by to drop off the rest of the paperwork needed to move. But, she surely would have shut the door and turned off the light. Right? Or you just forgot to lock up before you had left. That was another probable reason.

Without having any other explanation of what could have happened, you decided to cautiously approach the cracked door and enter your apartment. Your eyes grew wide as you surveyed the scene.

Cardboard boxes were overturned, the items that they once contained sprawled out onto the floor. Anything that could be broken was shattered to pieces, including the vase you had bought the day prior. Your heart plummeted down into your stomach when you finally realized that you had been robbed. You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. Why now? Why you? As if things hadn’t gone to shit already since you had arrived in this town.

A countless amount of questions fluttered through your brain until you finally had one stabilized thought. I still have the card Miles gave me with his phone number. He had said to call if you had any more information about the bank situation, but you’re pretty sure he would help you with this robbery as well. All of the previous thoughts you had vanished and your only goal was to get that card.

You exited the living room and into the small hallway that housed the bathroom, your bedroom, and a closet. Thankfully, all of the boxes that once called this place home were now unpacked and thrown out, so you didn’t run the risk of dying on the way to your room.

However, when you did step foot into your room, you were too afraid to venture any further. Near your closet, was a man standing with his back turned to you and going through your belongings. It had just occurred to you that you weren’t robbed. No, there was someone currently still robbing you. You were frozen in fear for a second, but eventually, you had built up enough energy to begin stepping out of the room. Slowly and quietly, you backed up towards the door. Well, until you felt something hard collide against your back.

“Found her.” A gruff voice spoke from behind you. You tried to turn around to look at them, but a pair of strong hands clasped down onto your shoulders to keep you in place. The man who was going through your things previously turned around with a smile that made you uneasy.

“Hello, y/n.”

A sudden realization hit you, the feeling similar to a ton of bricks being thrown into your stomach. Your legs wobbled and if it wasn’t for the man holding your shoulders, you would probably be on the ground right about now. They didn’t come here to rob you. They came here for you.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words never came. Before you could, a rag was slipped over both your opened mouth and your nose. You stood like this for awhile, your struggle rendering useless as the man pushed the rag further into your face. Over time, your vision began to grow cloudy and your brain tripped over its own thoughts. After a few minutes, you had fallen unconscious.

When you woke up, you half expected to be greeted with the (favorite color) walls of your bedroom. But, instead, you were greeted white brick walls and a terrifyingly open space. It looked like to be some sort of warehouse, or maybe even a hanger. There was a dull ache that surrounded your wrist and thanks to the experience you had back at the bank, you quickly realized a cable tie had been secured around them. You searched your brain for answers, but the memories only flooded back into your mind once you heard a familiar voice.

“Oh, you’re up.”

You looked to your left to see the man who had kidnapped you, along with several others. They all held the same scowl and rather lean builds but varied in height. Matter of fact, two of the men who stood closer to the very right end of the group looked to be twins.

It took you a minute, but you found your voice. It came out shaky, but at least noise actually left your lips.

“Where am I? What do you want from me?”

He licked his lips before a grin came onto his face.

“You’ll find that out in a little bit, sweetheart.” He then turned towards the others. “Get in your places, we’re starting the next phase of the plan.”

The group began to disperse in different directions, but the man who had called you sweetheart and another man still stood in front of you. You could only assume the other man was the one who had grabbed you in the bedroom.

“Ready?” The second guy looked towards the first man, who only nodded. This prompted him to turn to you. “You keep your mouth shut.” You noticed him push back his shirt slightly and grab hold of something. Your body immediately wretched when your (eye color) eyes landed upon the handgun. “Or things are going to go south real fast.” You wordlessly nodded, fear manifesting in your stomach.

The first man dug a phone out of his pocket and pressed a few buttons, initiating a call. It wasn’t until he had adjusted his grip on the cell and put it on speaker that you noticed that it was your phone. The line rings twice before someone picks up.

“Hello?”

You blink in shock. Was...was that Jeremy?

“Hello, Jeremy. You don’t know me, but I know you.”

“Where’s y/n?” You had never heard Jeremy’s voice this cold before.

“She’s right next to me, but I’m afraid she’s a little bit too...tied up…. to speak with you at the moment. But I’m sure she’d be more than willing to talk once my group and I get what we want. Well, if she lives that long, that is. Give Geoff the phone.”

The fear that you had started to feel moments ago increased and your mind began to race.

“If you hurt her, I swear…”

“Time is ticking, Dooley.”

You heard Jeremy take a deep breath, but that was the last clear sound that came from his end of the phone call. Some noises came through the microphone after, but it was in the form of indistinguishable movements and muffled voices. Eventually someone was handed the phone and took over the conversation .

“You wanted to speak to me?” The man who you assumed was ‘Geoff’ spoke. There was something familiar about the voice, but you couldn’t exactly place where you had heard it before.

“Six months ago, you stole away our territory and gave it to some young bucks with nothing to their name.”

A scoff came from the other end of the line.

“That’s what this is about? Look, kid. We didn’t steal anything. I’ve known Joel Heyman for years. He gave the territory over to the Fakes because of his retirement.”

“It wasn’t his to give!” The man snapped before regaining his composure. “You boss types are all the same, aren’t cha? You all just see Sandy Shores as a territory to control. To us, it’s so much more. Some of us have friends and family there. It’s home. But you guys didn’t think about that when you laid off all these guys, huh? Didn’t think about most of them had criminal records and can’t put food on the table anymore for the people they love?”

“Look, man, I’m sorry. That sucks. But I can’t give you the spa-”

“We don’t care about that anymore, Ramsay.”

“Then why the fuck did you set thi-”

“We want money. Forty thousand, to be exact. And don’t say you don’t have it, because we know you do. Bring it to the old paper warehouse on fifth by midnight or the girl gets a bullet in her skull.” With that, the man ended the call and tosses your phone onto a nearby folding table.

Two hours later, the front door of the warehouse opened to reveal Jeremy and an older looking man wearing a suit and covered in tattoos. You guessed that this was Geoff, the man who was on the phone with your kidnapper. Behind them were a man with red hair wearing a brown leather jacket and a man with a beard in a Hawaiian shirt, both holding briefcases. You felt as if there was something familiar about the man with the red hair, but the sound of your captor’s hands slamming against the folding table made you jump.

“Wow, you all actually showed up!”

As they approached, you locked eyes with Jeremy. This was probably the most pissed you had even seen him, but his brown eyes softened when they glanced at you.

“We have your money, let the girl go.” Geoff spoke, locking his tattooed hands behind his back.

“Not so fast, Ramsey.” Your captor smiled. He held out his hand and did a ‘gimme’ motion. “Let me see the cash so I know you’re not jipping us.” Geoff nodded over to the redhead and the bearded man, who both took a step forward and placed the briefcases on the floor. They kicked over the money and slid it across the floor in order to ensure they wouldn’t case any alarm. Your captor looked towards his companion, who went over and picked up the suitcases. After opening it and looking over the cash, he nodded.

“Everything’s here.”

“We held up our end of the deal.” Geoff commented as he put his hands into his pockets. “Are you going to keep your promise?”

Your captor took a few steps to the side so he was positioned directly behind you and placed a cold hand onto your shoulder. You twitched at the sudden contact, but kept your mouth shut.

“Well, I would love to, but I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans.” You felt something cold and metal press against the side of your head, instantly causing your heart to drop. “It’s only fair that since you guys took away something so special to us, we do the same.” Tears threatened to spill as your observed the faces of the four men in front of you. Jeremy seemed tense, but one look from Geoff seemed to calm his nerves. You questioned this, but the chaos that erupted seconds later overtook your thoughts.

“I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this but fine.” Geoff sighed. “Go ahead, Ryan.”

Before anyone could react, a bullet zoomed through one of windows and hit your captor in the head. You tried not to wretch as something wet splashed onto your face. The sound of gunshots overtook the area as Geoff, the redhead, and the bearded man were now all armed and fought against the remaining people. Within the chaos, Jeremy dashed over towards you and untied your restraints.

“Jeremy, what the fuck is happening?” You asked in a panic tone. He casted you a sympathetic look before shaking his head.

“I’ll explain later. Right now we gotta find cover, okay?” You blinked in confusion , straining to hear him over the gunshots, but nodded as he grabbed your hand. “Jack, cover me!”

Jack, the bearded man, peered over from the crate he was using as cover and called out.

“Got it!”

“On the count of three, we’re going to run over to that crate, okay?” Jeremy gestured to the crate that was in between the ones Jack and the redhead were using.

“O-okay.”

“One! Two! Three!” On cue, you and Jeremy both ran over to the box and hid behind it. “Stay down until it’s all clear.” He commanded as he retrieved the gun that was previously hidden on his body. You watched with a mixture of terror and awe as peeped over the side of the box and begun to fire. This was around the time when you noticed two things. One a man with a black skull mask and another man who you couldn’t exactly see because of his position behind a forklift had entered the fray on your side. Two, you felt like your heart could explode at any moment.

A few minutes went by before Geoff called out to the group.

“How many more are left?”

“Three, maybe four!” Jack answered before the redhead also chimed in.

“Two guys just escaped out the back door!”

“Michael and Gavin, go take care of it.”

“Got it Geoff!” A thick, British accent responded. “Let’s go boi!”

“Just shut up and come on.” The redhead, Michael, ran out of the back door with the other man following him. You squinted in remembrance, there was definitely something familiar about this. Jeremy noticed your reaction, because once the gunshots ceased, questioned your expression.

“You okay? It’s safe to stand up now, by the way.”

“W-what? Y-yeah. As much as I can be in this situation, yeah.” You stated while standing up. Your eyes locked onto one of the dead bodies that laid a few feet away. Your stomach churned at the sight. You quickly averted your gaze to the Michael and the other man re-entering the building with distraught expressions.

“We lost them at an busy intersection.” Michael announced.

“Do you think they left to get back up?” Jeremy asked, causing the group in front of you to exchange looks.

“We can’t keep standing around here, just in case they did.”

“What are we going to do with her?” The Brit jerked a thumb over in your direction.

“Doesn’t she have a house or something we can drop her off at?” Michael commented. You quickly decided to jump in, feigning confidence. You didn’t exactly want to confront the group of men you had just saw kill several people, but it had to be done.

“My apartment is where they found me. I came home from shopping and they were snooping around my room, waiting for me.”

“Then she’s definitely not going back and we’re certainly not leaving her alone since there’s two guys out there at know she can be used as an asset against u-”

“Cool your jets, Lil’ J.” Geoff sighed as he looked around the room. “I agree, it’s not safe for her right now. You care about her, thus we care about her. Let’s take her back to the penthouse.”

“And how are we going to do that? The penthouse location is supposed to be a secret to everyone who isn’t FAHC.” Jack looked towards Geoff for an idea, but before he could answer, the masked man spoke up.

“I have an idea.”

You suddenly felt something thump the back of your head. As you lost consciousness, you felt yourself fall into someone’s arms, presumingly Jeremy’s, and the group letting out a series of groans.

“God damn it, Ryan!”

@bananatron / @killerclownsandredballoons / @littlebabyblue33 / @mochaandalchemy / @skatedp / @crazy-mad-insane / @yallgotkik

please message me if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list!

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aplaceforrtprompts · 5 years

Note

Festive prompts #5 & 6 with the Vagabond?

You saw Ryan’s jaw clench as you could hear the faint sound of carolers down the road. You grabbed his hand and for a brief moment, you could see him relax as he turned to look at you. He didn’t say anything as you turned and crossed the street.

“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” he finally said as you two were halfway down the block.

“Because as fun as it is to break you out of jail and watch the police squirm as we do so, let’s save it for a more fun crime like a bank job,” you said nonchalantly as you squeezed his hand.

He still didn’t look pleased, “Fine but the real crime is them inviting themselves over to random houses and singing off key.”

“Well, lucky for you we live in a penthouse and the only caroling we might get is from Jeremy at three in the morning drunk off his ass,” you pointed out.

That caused him to finally crack a smile and lean over and kiss the top of your head, “The only acceptable form of caroling.”

#ryan haywood x reader #ryan haywood imagine #ryan h x reader #ragehappy #rooster teeth imagine #rooster teeth reader inserts #rooster teeth inserts #rooster teeth reader insert #rooster teeth imagines #achievement hunter reader inserts #achievement hunter imagines #fahc #fahc imagine #fahc insert #fahc inserts #fahc imagines #RyanH #Anonymous

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kincreates · 5 years

Text

Don’t fly in Storms

Angst, comfort, reader insert.

The red box letters on your clock stare back at you. Telling that you’ve been laying there for four hours with no results. 4:30 AM, and there was a heist tomorrow. The thunderstorm certainly wasn’t helping you sleep. Maybe you’d get lucky and Geoff would reschedule the heist due to the storm. Jack couldn’t possibly fly a cargobob in such a storm. The damn windows shook every time the thunder boomed.

Heaving a sigh you fling the covers off yourself, you wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight evidently so you may as well do something productive. But first, coffee. Snagging your favourite hoodie you shuffle out of your room and down the hall, to the kitchen. Flickering light from the living room gives you pause.

Poking your head around the corner, you see Jack sitting up watching TV. Steaming mug clutched between her hands. From behind she appeared fine but, stepping closer, you could see the drying tear tracks on her cheeks.

Deciding to abandon coffee for now you shuffle further into the living room. “Jack?” She jumps and gasps, grip on her mug tightening. You offer a sheepish smile “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

She nods and swallows thickly. “It’s okay. What are you doing up? It’s after 4 you know?”

You nod and move to slide onto the couch next to her. “Just couldn’t sleep. Are you okay?”

Her lips thin and she looks away. If you hadn’t been paying attention you would have missed the way she flinched when lightning lit the room up. Momentarily dispersing the shadows of the night. Worry rushes through your veins and you shift closer, settling a hand on her arm gently.

“I-” She pauses and takes a sip of her drink. This close you can smell the tea. Some lavender stuff that Gavin claimed was relaxing. “It’s the storm…”

You blink quietly “You don’t have to tell me the reasoning Jack. Though, if you’re scared, I think I can help with it.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “I wanna tell you. Its-” She pauses and takes a breath. “I’ve never told anyone and I think bottling it up inside me is making it feel bigger then it is.”

You nod and grab the big blanket to wrap around the two of you. “Okay, I’ll listen then.”

She leans into your side nodding and seems to breathe in the scent of pack and whatever you smell like to her before nodding again. “It was before I’d met Geoff, and I was reckless. Thought since I was immortal I could do whatever I wanted without consequence. Though, back then, I guess I forgot that dying hurts. Long after the respawn it still fucking hurts.”

She pauses and drinks some more of her tea, you nod to show that you’re listening to her.

“I’d just gotten my first mini jet and I wanted to fly it so bad. It was storming though and, obviously, you aren’t meant to fly in storms. Too dangerous between the visibility and lightning and everything.” She pauses and looks at you, as though to make sure you were following.

You nod quietly, “what happened?”

She settles back into your side, hides her face at the barrage of lightning outside. “I flew, got too cocky and went out in a storm that rivaled this one. Lightning hit my right wing and I crashed into the vinewood sign. Say what you want about how cool explosions and the like look, but they hurt like hell. It doesn’t help that I was pinned to my seat by a metal bar. So I respawned just to die over and over again. For days until someone noticed the wreckage and removed my ‘corpse’.”

You blink at her quiet, “Jesus...Jack that’s awful…” You pause for a while before pulling her closer to your chest. “Geoff’ll reschedule the heist for when it isn’t storming. Not safe to fly right now anyway.”

She starts to protest and you shush her. “No. I’m not letting you fly in a storm. I don’t give a fuck what Geoff says.”

She softens a bit and nods smiling softly and cuddling into your chest. “Okay… thank you.”

You nod and watch the rain pour outside as she falls asleep on your chest. Half finished mug forgotten on the table.

#fahc #fahc jack #reader insert #fahc reader #jack patillo #female jack #my writing

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snapmydisk · 6 years

Note

Hi hi hi. Can I request Gavin dating a girl who is secretly a cool mask wearing criminal vigilante team that is widely known and actually the good guys. Like The right side of wrong. But they don’t ever kill good people or anyone if you want. And the girl has to keep both her lives balanced and secret. Love u !!!!!

Love you too!

You stumbled back into your apartment, wiping off thedust from an explosion at the bank. Dried blood, probably your own splatteredacross your arm. You found the source and settled in the bathroom to clean it.

You were about to pour the cleaning alcohol when yourphone rang. It was your boyfriend, Gavin. You had barely heard from himrecently, being holed up in an underground bunker made for hacker didn’t havegreat cell phone service too “Hey babe,” you said cheerfully.

“Hey Y/N, you alright? I tried calling you today,” he replied.

“Yeah sorry, work was killer,” you said, trying not to chuckleat your pun.

As he chatted, you poured the cleaning solution over thecut, trying not to swear too loudly. It wasn’t deep enough for stitches andtaped the wound together instead “Since we haven’t seen each other in a while,do you want to go for dinner again soon?” he asked out of the blue.

You snapped into attention and agreed to a date and arestaurant before pulling out a gold bar from your bag and inspecting it “I’llpay this time.”

#gavinxreader #ah reader insert #FAHC

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sarahinara · 7 years

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I have this weird little headcanon that living as a civilian in achievement city isn’t... that bad? like,

the fahc are borderline insane with the heists they pull, stealing from every bank in the city and getting away in absurdly painted cars. decked out in weird outfits that are always so pristine despite the fact that they seem to wear it all. the time.

it becomes normal to hear laughter on top of the engines of motorcycles, or to see a helicopter swerving madly in the sky as it threads through skyscrapers while getting away from the police.

achievement city’s organizations, the little ngos that try to make it better, receive donations on the regular, any truly innocent person doesn’t stay missing for very long - always returned home with an unbelievable story to tell

(it was the vagabond, I swear - skull and all - he came for me)

you see the golden boy shopping at calvin klein and all he does is hold up two shirts when you stare, asking which looks better? before you hear sirens in the distance. he says I guess both is fine, shoving them in his bag and escapes out the back door, slipping a few hundreds into one of the retail employee’s jean pockets on the way

a mugger pushes you into an alley with a gun to your back and you barely get a word out before you hear a knock that shit off and they’re shoved off you by the jersey devil, more annoyed than anything else. the mugger gawks and runs off and you’re still frozen as the curly haired criminal brushes off your shoulders with a stern stay safe out here

you’re sitting under a tree at the park one afternoon and the kingpin walks up to you, asking mind if I join you? you nod meekly and he plants himself down beside you, pulling out a book of his own, occasionally asking what was happening in yours and leaving you with some recommendations when it was time to go heist

a job is pulled off near your work and roads are crammed with police and traffic, every person within a 100m radius being questioned. the next day you walk in to a fully catered lunch, a small note placed on top reading sorry about the mess - beardo

the self-proclaimed rimmy tim shows up to the bowling alley, cowboy hat and all, and smiles kindly to the teenager working behind the counter while paying for a game. he grabs the lane next to you, saying watch this, and throws the ball in the gutter

and it really was the vagabond breaking down the door that locked you in after what seemed to be like endless gunfire from the main floor, cutting off your restraints and letting you hold onto him on his motorcycle as he drives back to the city, stopping in an abandoned parking lot and offering to walk you home from there

because it’s an unspoken rule of the underground to keep civilians out of it, and you better believe that ramsey enforces it. the little boy who grew up watching the people he knew disappear, swearing on his heart that he’d do whatever he could to change that, even if his methods were a bit unorthodox

then when you post it online later, you get the expected amount of disbelief and yeah right’s, but then you get a comment - fun, but maybe let’s not do that again - v

#achievement hunter #fake ah crew #fahc #reader insert #kinda?#headcanon #yeahhh i dunno where i was going with this #rooster teeth #rtah #my writing

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5lbsofsmarties · 6 years

Note

“This is by far the most stupid plan you’ve ever created. Of course I’m in.” with Gavin?

Word Count: 223

Everyone in the room was silent, no one knew what actually tosay or even where to begin. Finally, you leaned forward in your chair and laidyou arms on the table in front of you, crossing them over one another, as youfocused your gaze on Gavin who was standing at the whiteboard. You took a deepbreath and let it out slowly as you tried to sort through your thoughts and runthrough the proposed plan.

“So, Gavin… you want to roll up to the Lost MC – on yourfaggio – and convince them that you want to join them; and when they eventuallysay fuck you and try to kill you, you want to kill them, take their means ofproduction, and then sell it all to Trevor Phillips?” you asked, raising youreyebrows at him.

Gavin’s smile spread wide over his face, “Yes! Think of thechaos and you know Phillips will pay more than it’s worth just for theknowledge that we got right of the Lost.”

Everyone in the room shook their heads and rolled their eyesat Gavin and his idiotic plan. You, however, couldn’t contain the grin thatslipped over your features. “Y’know, Gav,” you started, pushing back in yourchair, “this is by far the most stupid plan you’ve ever created. Of course I’min.”

#gavin free x reader #gavin f x reader #gavin free imagine #rt reader insert #rt imagine #ah reader insert #ah imagine #fahc reader insert #fahc imagine #ragehappy #snow day drabble #request fill #Anonymous #this is an answer

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splodey-painter · 6 years

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Neutral reader/Jeremy Coffee Shop AU

I tried a nb/neutral reader insert fic because I need more of them in my life.

572 words - Reader-insert, neutral reader, Jeremy Dooley/reader, fluff, god-awful amounts of fluff, no names mentioned but it’s Jeremy I swear.

You’re a barista at a niche little coffee shop just outside the Vinewood area of Los Santos. It thrives on the quirkiness of its brand and its location. And although there are a lot of patrons who could care less about the workers there, preordering their pre-shoot coffee then sweeping by dramatically to collect it, the shop is calm and cheerful. Often also attracting a variety of artists to it, even students.

You know the pattern of regulars. So it’s easy to spot when a new regular works their way onto your schedule. It started patchy, learning customers routines helps with orders and keeping them coming back. Apart from one customer who seems to be working their way into your particular work routine.

He gets it quite quickly. Not a weekly patron, but often enough that you begin to get a little happy when they come through the door. Everything about them is charming to you, in a “not your typical attractive guy” kind of way. At some point, he mentions about working on a new set of sketches which strikes up a quick conversation about drawing and suddenly you’ve agreed to draw each other on one of your work breaks next week.

On that work break, you share a drink, typical “coffee date” style. But it isn’t a date you tell yourself, just two artists with a mutual appreciation for the human form. But there’s a certain kind of intimacy when you’re drawing someone. You pick up on minute details. Like the exact shape of his goatee to the small beauty mark just below his right cheekbone to the way, he laughs with his eyes when you crack a joke.

You can’t draw laughter but god you wish you could capture that sound and replay it whenever you’re having one of those crappy days at home. It’s warm and fills your chest with a soft pressure that you don’t want to admit it drawing you to him even more. Work break is over and you exchange contact details in each other's sketchbooks. He waves goodbye and you could swear he winked at you as the door clinked shut. You couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

Texting wasn’t frequent and you didn’t want to seem bothersome. You two had only ever spent time on that one work break a week ago and he came in regularly enough that it didn’t really warrant texting or so you thought.

After a few more dates “drawing sessions” you felt closer to him, and you got the feeling he felt the same about you. Then one day he came in at the very end of your shift just before you got ready to head home. He asked you a question which ended with a very fast mishmash of words. You both stood looking at each other for a minute. His clothing looked tidier than usual, that t-shirt was definitely designer. Hair a little neater than usual and his beard freshly trimmed. It took a moment but eventually, you both came to an agreement that he wanted to take you out for food.

But you were underdressed you protested, to which he took your hand and said you were perfect as you are with a little eyebrow waggle that you couldn’t disagree with.

That night you shared pizza and an ice-cream sundae over jokes and stupid longing looks that kept making you both giggle.

#jeremy dooley #sunsetboy💜💛#can you tell how much I love this man #this has been my favourite scenario for the better part of maybe a few months #Its so soft to me #aaaaa #los santos setting #fahc??#if anyone has any suggestions pls feel free to add them #non-binary #neutral reader #self insert #soft boi

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omniscientprostitute · 6 years

Text

Young Gun

Relationship: Trevor Collins x fem!Reader

Summary: You meet one of the infamous Fakes

Warnings: cursing, mild violence, random plot directions

Word Count: 2835

A/N: This is set in the FAHC universe. I took some liberties. Also, this work was inspired by a fic I read a few years ago called “down to ride (till the happy end)” by raewastaken (IWriteLove) on Archive of Our Own.http://archiveofourown.org/works/5838430

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It wasn’t a secret that Los Santos wasn’t the best place to live The city was full of gangs and corrupt cops. It was impossible to be sure who was civilian and who was criminal. It didn’t help that your apartment was in a sketchy part of town. It wasn’t your fault you were trying to pay off a college tuition and pay rent on a minimum wage paycheck. You worked at a cute little bookstore a few blocks from your apartment. You long twelve hour shifts caused you to fall into bed exhausted most nights. That meant you could normally sleep through police sirens, but they seemed closer tonight, as if the police were circling the neighborhood. You could have sworn someone was at the window in the living room. You held your breath and laid perfectly still, while you listened to the latch on your window click. There was silence, then soft footsteps creeping towards your room. You grabbed the book off of your nightstand and scurried behind your bedroom door. There was a tense moment before the door cautiously squeaked open. You swung the book, catching the tall man on the arm. He spun, and you looked down the barrel of a handgun. You squeaked, dropping the book and putting your hands up. The man moved you to the living room, where he turned on the lights after closing all of the drapes and blinds. He wore a black bandana over the majority of his face, but his brown eyes were soft and expressive. “Do you have a phone?”

“Right bedside table.” You instructed. “The password is Alexander Pope’s death date.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” The man sassed.

“Are you supposed to be in my apartment?” You automatically snapped back. “It’s May thirtieth seventeen-forty-four.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Stay here.” You did as he instructed. Your fingers playing with the hem of your sleeping shirt. He returned to the room with your phone pressed to his cheek. The person on the other end of the phone didn’t seem happy. The man said his general whereabouts before slipping the phone into his pocket.

“Excuse me.”

“I can’t have you going to the police and tracing back the number I called.”

“Then I need a couple hundred dollars, so I can buy myself a new phone tomorrow.” You took pleasure in his surprised raised eyebrows. “I work a minimum wage job and have to pay off student loans and pay rent; it’s going to take me months to make enough to afford a phone. I’m a petite, twenty-two year old female without a car; my phone is the only protection I have. So, unless you’re going to escort me around the city, I need enough money for a new phone.” The staring contest between you and the man was interrupted by a short honk from outside your apartment. Without addressing you, the man exited the apartment with your phone.

The first thing you did when you got back to your apartment after work was take your bra off and open the fridge. You settled for reheating Mac N’ Cheese, craving some comfort food after the last twenty-four hours of stress. You didn’t notice the little wrapped box sitting on the coffee table, until you plopped down on the couch. The box was rectangular and heavy, wrapped neatly in Happy Birthday wrapping paper. You carefully ripped the paper, exposing the newest smartphone on the market. You almost dropped it to fumble for the little card that was tucked in the box:

I can’t afford to escort you around the

city, but you’re too cute to leave helpless.

The password is Alexander Pope’s death.

~Zed

You smiled at the note despite the fact that it was written by a dangerous criminal who broke into your apartment and stole your phone. Despite everything, you unlocked the phone anyway and found that all of your contacts, photos, and applications had been transferred over. Reopening the card, you considered the name Zed. It was most likely an alias. Using your new phone, you googled “Zed in Los Santos”. The most likely result was a series of police reports linking Zed with various robberies as well as the Fake AH Crew. One of the articles had a picture included. The man had been caught on video robbing a gas station, and the man in the grainy image was definitely the same guy who had broken into your apartment. The new information did make the prior evening even more terrifying, but you figured you would never see Zed again. You didn’t have anything he would want.

Forty-three minutes. You had been sitting at the counter of one of the less seedy bars in Los Santos for forty-three minutes, waiting for a date that most likely wasn’t going to show. You hadn’t been on a date in years, which was supposedly some sort of social sin based on the way your coworker reacted. So, you had let yourself be set up on a blind date. Now you felt stupid, and slightly insulted, sitting alone at a bar in a nice black dress, playing games on your phone and drinking shitty beer. You were also sort of on edge due to the group of rowdy guys huddled around the pool table by the door. There was a woman with them, but she was obviously one of them. You pushed your finished beer away and checked the time. It was eight-ten; you weren’t comfortable being out alone after nine-thirty. You knew there was no point waiting around, but it was sort of nice being out of the apartment. You looked up as the bartender set a drink down in front of you. “Courtesy of Zed.” You startled at the name and fought the urge to jerk around and search for him. Instead, you brought the glass to your lips, pleased that he had sent you something decent to drink.

You left the bar after finishing the drink. It was closing in on ten o’clock which made you nervous, but you began your walk anyway. You were a few buildings down from the bar when you felt a hand gently grab your elbow. Jerking away, you lifted your bag to hit whoever had grabbed you. You thumped the man a few times in the chest with your purse before recognizing the bandana and the brown eyes. “Jesus, Zed.”

He seemed to perk up at the use of his alias. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to walk home alone. It’s not safe. You should take a cab.”

“That’s sweet, thank you.” You began walking, not wanting to be out on the street any longer than you had to.

“So, why were you all alone at a bar?”

“I got stood up.” You admitted. “Then you bought me a drink, but didn’t come to say hello.”

“I don’t really want my friends to know about you.”

“Yet you ditch them to walk me home?”

“I told them I was going to get something to eat.”

You decided to change the conversation. “So, is the bandana a crew thing?”

“No. They prefer masks, but masks mess up my hair.” Zed ran a hand through his hair. You laughed politely, but allowed yourself to appreciate the fluffy brown hair. The tips were a bit lighter, like it had been dyed. “You look very nice by the way.”

You blushed. “Thank you. I’m glad someone appreciated the work I put in.” You obnoxiously flipper your hair making Zed laugh.

“Did you know the guy?”

“No. He’s my coworker’s friend.” You noted that you were closing in on your apartment. You were a little sad that your walk was ending. “It’s not that big of a deal. I mostly agreed to humor her.”

“Really?” Zed inquired; his right eyebrow raising.

You didn’t know why you were being so open with Zed. He was a dangerous criminal, but he also seemed like a real person. “I’ve been single for over six months. I get a little lonely sometimes.” Zed walked you up to your apartment. “Thank you for walking me home. Even though you broke into my apartment, you made me feel safe.” You made it obvious that you were teasing. “Have a good evening Zed.” You suppressed the urge to kiss his cloth covered cheek before retreating into your apartment.

For the next month, you life returned to it’s calm state. Work ruled your life. Despite you coworker’s further pressing, you declined any other dates. You wouldn’t say you fell into a depression, but there was definitely a dullness that took over your life. If your landlord would have allowed it, you would have gotten a pet, probably a dog that would require you to leave the apartment for walks or get off the couch to play.

You were sitting on your couch eating a salad with limp lettuce and watching The Twilight Zone, when your living room window slid open. A short but wide shouldered man slid in before collapsing to the floor. You sprinted over, closing the window, and drawing the curtains The man rolled onto his back: “You’re Treyco’s girlfriend right?”

“Who?” You stepped back as the man got to his feet.

“I thought this was the right apartment.”

“The only criminal I know is Zed, and I haven’t seen him in over a month.”

“So you are her!” The man pumped his fist in the air. “Zed is Treyco.” He explained. “And, I’m Rimmy Tim, but you can call me Lil J. I’m Treyco’s best friend.”

“Umm, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I should be saying that to you.” Lil J followed you into the kitchen, where you began fixing yourself more salad since most of yours had ended up on the floor. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you, since he broke into your apartment to avoid the cops. God, it’s so annoying. ‘Oh Jeremy, she was so adorable. She’s so smart and she wears Batman boxers to bed. Her name is Y/N, and she works at a book store.” Lil J suddenly dropped the high pitched voice he had adopted. “it’s so gross. I just had to check you out.” You knew your face was bright red. You were flattered by the compliments, although it seemed like Zed or Treyco was stalking you. “I gotta’ admit; you are pretty cute.”

“Thank you?”

“Well, I’ve gotta’ run. See you around Y/N.” Lil J then walked out the front door.

The next morning you found a vase of flowers on your counter with a note that said:

Sorry about Lil J.

~Zed

You were in the middle of straightening the children’s books when the bell over the front entrance tinkled softly. “Welcome to Marlee’s Books. Holler if you need anything.” You called before peeking your head around the bookshelf. The most attractive man ever was looking at the display of new releases in the front. He was tall but not lanky. He wore light brown leather boots, fitted dark wash jeans, and a light gray jacket over a pale green shirt. His hair and the tips of his ears were tucked under a black beanie. He looked like a model. You hid back behind the stacks and internally screamed as you moved from the children’s section to non-fiction. A man that gorgeous probably already had a girlfriend.

“Hey.” You jumped at the voice that almost sounded familiar. “I was wondering if you had any Alexander Pope?” You nodded, quickly setting aside the books you were straightening and hurried out of the aisle. You didn’t make eye-contact with the man as he followed you through the store.

“All of our Neoclassical authors are in this area.” You stopped in front of the shelf housing works by Alexander Pope. “My personal favorite is The Complete Collection; it’s a little expensive, but it includes a partial biography and all of his literary criticisms. Most collections only include his poems and essays.”

“Thank you.” You took that as a dismissal and returned to the non-fiction section.

The man perused the store for more than an hour before approaching the counter. He had selected three books, one of which was the collection that you had recommended. “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

“Yes, thank you.” In a lapse of self-awareness, you made eye-contact with the man. He had brown eyes that looked like pools of melted dark chocolate.

“Your total is sixty-five forty-eight.” The man handed you a fancy black card with the name Trevor Collins engraved in gold on it. “Have a nice day Mr. Collins.”

“You too.”

The rest of your shift was uneventful. A few of the regulars came in to buy some of the new releases, but other than that the store was quiet. The lack of patrons allowed you to complete your duties earlier than usual. You vacuumed and dusted before clocking out and handing your keys to the closing manager. Knowing that you had no food in your apartment, you decided to stop by a Mexican place on the way home. Had you been paying attention, you wouldn’t have gone in. Gang territory disputes could happen anywhere at anytime. Sometimes they happened in the middle of the street. Sometimes they happened in a Mexican restaurant. You were immediately knocked over the head with the but of a gun and bound with rubber hosing. The gang member waived a gun in your face as a warning to be quiet, then they shoved you in the back. There were three employees in the back, all of which had been killed by a bullet to the forehead.

They seemed to have forgotten about you until the cops showed up. You were forced over bodies of the losing gang and pressed against the storefront window. A gun was pressed to your head. You could see about three cop cars and a handful of reporters with cameras outside of the restaurant. You wondered if they were live, if somewhere hot guy Trevor Collins, or criminal nice-guy Zed was watching you be used as a hostage. Everyone was yelling, but you weren’t understanding what was being said. You figured they were negotiating with your life.

Suddenly the window in front of you shattered, and the guy who had been holding you dropped with a bullet in his head. You had enough mind to fall onto your stomach as the night’s second shoot out occurred over your head. You curled into a ball and waited for the police to get you. You were put in an ambulance and taken to the hospital, but you were sent home before midnight.

You entered your apartment to find the hot guy Trevor Collins standing in your kitchen with a familiar bandana hanging around his neck. “I should have figured you were gorgeous.” You walked past Trevor to throw yourself onto the couch. “So, were you there or did you see it on the news?”

“I saw it on the news.” You felt the couch dip by your feet.

“Why are you here Zed, or Treyco, or Trevor, whoever you are right now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then leave!” You jerked into a sitting position. “You’re whole--I’m going to be everywhere for a week then disappear for a month--thing is incredibly confusing, especially with you detached but protective attitude. Either take me on a date or leave me alone!” Your stomach dropped as Trevor got up from the couch.

“You should probably take off work tomorrow. Tonight must have been really stressful.”

Despite you being unable to close your eyes without getting vivid flashbacks, you didn’t call into work. Your manager and coworkers who had seen the news sent you home, but you didn’t return to your apartment you hunkered down in a cafe around the corner. Alone was the worst thing for you at the moment. You stared into the black mil of your coffee. You couldn’t tell if Trevor had been hurt or angered by your outburst. He definitely closed himself off, but you hoped that didn’t mean he was leaving you alone. Bot that he owed you anything. Trevor was probably busy with criminal stuff; he didn’t need to be messing around with you. “You are supposed to be at home.” You looked up, a small smile gracing your lips at Trevor’s exasperated tone. “Do you mind if I sit?” You shook your head. “So, coffee shop?”

“Didn’t really want to be alone.” You admitted. “I’m sorry about last night. That was out of line.”

“No, I needed to hear it.” Trevor looked down into his own coffee. “I like you a lot; I was just unsure what with my profession, but I talked to some friends, and I would really like to take you on a date.”

“Does this count?” You asked, nudging Trevor’s cup with your own.

“Only if you let me buy your next one.”

“I think we can make that happen.”

#trevor collins imagine #fahc trevor #reader insert

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damnyn-blog · 5 years

Text

Hey, its me, a new reader insert blog.

My name is Ray and im kind of sort of a writer. Im about half way thru a fic ive been working on to post here, but its quite a long one and i need a break. So in the meantime im going to take requests. I had a writing blog when i was younger but i deleted it out of embarrassment, so im starting fresh. Here are the fandoms ill write for:

-The Flash

-The Avengers

-Rooster Teeth

-Teen Wolf

-Twilight

Thats all i can think of right now that i know well enough to write, but if you want something else you can let me know and ill see if i can do it. Also i do have a full time job and i type like a grandmother so im a bit slow, sorry. But please send in some requests. Im especially feeling Cisco Ramon from The Flash right now, and i know there isnt a ton of content for him, so if you like Cisco send in some requests. Ill go ahead and reblog some of those prompt list as well. I hope you all like what ive got to offer!

#reader insert #the flash #roosterteeth #twilight #cisco ramon #i really love cisco #the avengers #teen wolf #fanfic #writing #fahc

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rosegoldachievement · 6 years

Text

Where Good Girls Go To Die (Chapter 3)

pairing: fahc x reader

word count: 2,316

series: Where Good Girls Go To Die

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter four

Chapter Three: Bittersweet

Later that night, you had found yourself being pulled out of your slumber by a phone going off. With still closed eyes, you mindlessly extended your hand and brushed it along the surface of the end table. As your phone continued to send its cry for attention out into the open air, you found yourself changing your technique to a patting motion. Finally, the texture underneath your fingertips changed as you found your phone. The rather cold phone case made you grown but miraculously, you managed to accept the call and press the phone to your ear before time ran out.

“Y/n?” Jeremy’s voice broke through the speaker. You quickly retracted the phone from your ear and forced open your eyelids to read the caller ID. Once you got confirmation that it was indeed Jeremy on the other end of the line, you allowed your eyes to rest again. You let out a small noise of acknowledgement as a response. “Hey, I’m just checking in. I got kind of worried that you didn’t text me after work like you said you would.”

The afternoon of your re-connection with Jeremy, you had sent him a message so he had your number. This sparked a conversation between the two of you, and it had been carried over into the past couple of days. In a way it was weird, the rekindled friendship of the two of you. Sometimes, the two of you acted like the relationship you had was totally new. Which, it technically was, neither of you were the same people as you were before. But, there was still that sense of familiarity in the way you spoke to each other, the way that either of you would somehow bring up an old joke like it happened yesterday. And for some reason, you hated it.

The night previous you had mentioned you were starting your new job in the morning and Jeremy insisted that you text him when you get home to tell him all about it. You agreed and after telling him your shift hours, you went to sleep. Because of all of the commotion this morning, you completely forgot this promise.

“Sorry Jeremy. Today was just...” You trailed off in an attempt to figure out how to explain the day’s events. Luckily, the amount of brain power needed to do this task woke you up slightly. “A long day.”

“Is that still code for ‘today’s been shit’?” Your lack of reply to this question made Jeremy’s tone of voice change. “That bad, huh?” You wouldn’t consider yourself as a optimist, but you were admittedly more calm about the situation than when it first happened. Your time at the station gave you time to reflect on how lucky you were that you, or anyone else, wasn’t dead from the interaction. But, that goes to say that this day was far from the best in your life.

“Yeah, it was pretty rough.”

“Did your boss chew you out or something? Where did you even get a job at, anyway?” You sat up in your bed and leaned yourself against the headboard, fully aware that this conversation was not going to end anytime soon.

“Pacific Standard Public Deposit Bank.” You expected Jeremy to bring the conversation to how you followed your father’s footsteps. Silence seemed to pass through the speaker for a moment before Jeremy spoke up.

“You were at the robbery.;;”

“How do you know about the robbery?” You heard Jeremy shift his body, the distant sound of sheets being ruffled filled the speaker.

“I saw it on the news. Are you okay?” Concern was evident in his voice. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Y/n-”

“Jeremy, relax. I’m alright, I promise. I’m not going to lie to you, I was apart of a hostage situation but I’m okay. I’m sorry for not calling you, I came home and immediately fell asleep.” You attempted to convince him that you were indeed fine with today’s previous events.

“Alright, I want to take your word for it but I’m still worried about you. When you said you moved here, I suspected that you would run into crime. Hell, it’s impossible not to in this fucking city, but I didn’t think it would be so soon…” A beat of silence came between the two of you before Jeremy spoke up in a more positive tone. “If you’re comfortable enough to go out tonight, maybe I can show you one of the places that makes Los Santos worth it?” You had to admit, ever since you had ran into Jeremy, you wanted to hang out with him again and hopefully this could be what was needed to end your horrible day on a good note. Jeremy was the type of person that had a carefree aura around him, which allowed whoever he was with to feel it too.

“Yeah, I’m feeling okay enough to go out.”

“Nice! Text me your address and I’ll be there in a little bit, okay?” You could envision the smile on his face as he said this.

“Will do. See you in a little bit, bye Jeremy.” With this you hung up and managed to force yourself out of bed. You sent him a text with your address and tossed your phone onto your bed. Your bedroom was still a mess, but luckily your clothes were all unpacked and put away in the closet. After rummaging around for something decent to wear, you finally settled on a hoodie, jeans, and sneakers.

It wasn’t long until you had received a text from Jeremy, saying that he was outside. You patted your pockets, making sure you had everything before heading downstairs to join him. Once you slipped out of the front doors of your apartment complex, you noticed a royal purple Pariah sitting in front of the sidewalk. Before you could text Jeremy for confirmation, the passenger door opened to reveal him leaning over from the driver’s seat.

“Need a ride?” He asked, then shifted back into his seat. You only chuckled at this and walked over to the car. After you had climbed into the car and shut the door, you put on your seatbelt. The familiar feeling of comfort settled into your bones.

“Never thought I’d see you driving a sports car.” You hummed as he began to drive out of the parking lot.

“It’s no Big Blue, but it works.” You smiled at the reference to Jeremy’s rusted powder blue pick up truck, the one he received on his sixteenth birthday that drove you and him across every inch of your hometown. You found yourself looking out of the window next to you, focusing on the way that the buildings basked in neon colors of the city. “That reminds me, how’s everyone at home?”

“Anyone in particular you want to know about?” You could faintly hear Jeremy’s fingers tap against the steering wheel.

“How about the old troop?” Throughout most of your childhood, you and Jeremy were considered the dynamic duo but sometime around the second year of high school, the two of you formed a small friend group.

“Mark is still trying to do that archery thing and Edger managed to get a job as a stablehand a few towns over. Taylor and I haven’t talked since she got married. I heard she gave birth to a baby boy last May. Anyone else?” “My parents?” You tried to hide the shock on your face when he said this. You couldn’t fathom the fact that Jeremy hadn’t had some sort of contact with his family for the last few years.

“They’re okay. I honestly don’t see them all that often, but sometimes your mom will say hi if we cross paths at the market.” You answered truthfully. Upon saying this, questions began to appear in your brain. The overarching theme of Jeremy’s absence seemed to be prominent in each one. As much as you wanted to ask him all of them, you opted to stay quiet, not wanting to come off as the bitter friend who assumed was left behind. Once you opened your mouth to continue the conversation and bring it to a different topic, Jeremy parked the car. The two of you got out of the car and you were instantly met with the smell of salt water filling your nose.

“Welcome to Del Perro Pier.” In front of you sat a boardwalk overlooking the beach. Various amenities and amusement park rides covered a section that protruded out into the water. Just as Jeremy had said, a large red sign with blinking yellow lights read Del Perro Pier. You turned to Jeremy with a teasing smile.

“This is what makes Los Santos worth wild?”

“Give it a chance.” He remarked as he began to go up the ramp to the boardwalk. You followed, eventually falling back into step with him. You had to admit, the concept of the beach was very compelling to you. Growing up, the only large body of water within radiance of your home was the town lake. There was something euphoric about swimming in the lake on a nice hot summer day but since it was the only swimming spot in town, it was hard to enjoy it with the amount of people that often inhabited it. You and Jeremy walked towards the portion of the pier that stretches over the ocean, various shops and carnival games were lined up on either side of you. Jeremy paused, causing you to do the same.

Jeremy’s mouth opened to say something, but your attention was focused on the booth behind him. Nested onto the shelf fixated on the sidewall sat a collection of stuffed bears, all arranged by the color of their fur. Tied around each one of their necks was a crimson colored ribbon. Jeremy must have noticed, because he turned his head to see behind him before looking back at you.

“Let me guess, you want one of the bears?” He chuckled. You shrugged and a shy smile came across your face.

“A little, yeah.” Jeremy turned around and approached the booth in which you had eyed up. You followed, fully prepared to give the game your all. But, to your surprise, Jeremy placed down the cash that was required before casting you a smile.

“I got this.” He insisted. The man in the booth accepted the money and begun to explain the game. Behind him stood a mock shooting gallery that had zombie animatronics. The goal of the game was when the zombie’s eyes glowed bright blue, the person with the cork gun would send a cork into the large target on the zombie’s chest. He handed Jeremy the cork gun and got out of the way by standing on the side of the gallery.

“Ready?” The guy asked, which earned a nod from Jeremy. The man pressed a button on the booth’s wall, which activated the zombies. You watched in awe as Jeremy’s focus snapped to zombie after zombie as their eyes changed, hitting them perfectly in the center of the zombie each time. It was strange to see him so comfortable holding something that resembled a gun, but you chose not to think about it too much.

A loud buzzing sound could be heard after roughly three minutes, signaling the end of the game. Jeremy placed the cork gun on the counter of the booth. The game manager then went around, examining the glowing red areas where Jeremy had hit the zombies.

“Good job, dude. Perfect score.” He congratulated Jeremy, who only smiled broadly. “Pick any prize you want.” Jeremy looked towards you, indicating that the choice was yours. Your eyes locked upon a caramel colored stuffed bear and pointed at it.

“Can we have that one, please?” You asked. The man nodded and retrieve the bear. He handed it to you and thanked you guys for playing. After wishing him a good day, you and Jeremy walked away to find something else to do.

After riding the ferris wheel and practically being blackmailed onto a roller coaster called the Leviathan, you and Jeremy decided to get ice cream to end your night out. The two of you sat at one of the circular tables outside of the ice cream shop, chatting about anything that sparked your interest. With the stuffed bear he had won you sitting on your lap, you put another spoonful of the (favorite flavor) ice cream into your mouth.

“So, how was it. Did Pleasure Pier live up to the hype?” Jeremy asked. You shrugged lightly, making sure the food in your mouth had vanished before you answered.

“It was nice.”

“Just ‘nice’? C’mon, this place is the bomb!” You laughed at his words.

“I’m a big fan of the concept that it’s who you’re with and not the place that make it a good situation.” Jeremy’s eyebrows furrowed as he pointed his spoon towards you.

“Take your sappy bullshit,” He then moved the utensil to point in another direction. “And take it somewhere else.” A warmth resonated inside of you, this was definitely the Jeremy you had come to love. Nethertheless, you rolled your eyes at his reaction and shot back a protest.

“That was only, like, not even five percent sap.”

“So, you admit it had some sap?”

“Anyway,” You chose to ignore his question. “Thanks for taking me out, Jeremy.” The robbery seemed like it happens months prior now, even though it occurred only a few hours ago. The little outing he provided helped cease some of the tightness that still lingered in your chest when you were getting ready for Jeremy to pick you up.

“No problem, y/n.” The fluorescent light that was fixated on the wall behind him flickered once, covering him in a dark shadow before illuminating his features once more. “Anytime.”

#achievement hunter #achievement hunter au #achievement hunter x reader #achievement hunter reader insert #fahc #fahc x reader #rooster teeth x reader #roosterteeth #achievement hunter fanfic #fake ah crew #fake ah crew x reader #ah x reader

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aplaceforrtprompts · 6 years

Text

Holiday Flash Fic Challenge: Day 30

Pairing: FAHC!Ryan Haywood x Reader

Prompt: “This may be the champagne talking but you look really hot all dressed up.”

Word Count: 462

Requester: Anonymous

“You might want to slow down there,” Ryan chuckled as you were downing your third glass of champagne.

“It’s a New Year’s party. We need to live a little. Blend in and that includes drinking,” you reminded him.

“Yes but remember you’re at a nice event, not a frat party,” Geoff buzzed in your ear from the coms. “We need you sharp as a lookout.”

You rolled your eyes and Ryan bit back his laughter at your clear annoyance.

“Guards are still all in position, still rotating every hour, still posted at every entrance to the rest of the museum and still none of them actually going into the museum,” you reported. You could have done your job as lookout blindfolded but that never stopped Geoff from lecturing you. To be fair you were the newest in the crew but you’ve known Geoff much longer than that and had no problem sassing him.

You just heard a heavy sigh on the other side of your earpiece followed by, “We’re going in, in five.”

“It was quiet after that so you busied yourself with another glass of champagne. Though after a few sips Ryan took it out of your hands and set it on the bar counter and took your hand, “Come on.”

“We need to watch the doors,” you reminded.

“They’ll be fine,” Ryan gave your hand a soft squeeze.

You looked back at the doors and there was some talk from the crew communicating with one another but everything sounded okay so you followed Ryan upstairs and out onto a balcony.

“I didn’t even know this was here,” you gasped as you looked out on the city.

Ryan shrugged, “There’s always a balcony or at least rooftop access. People love their views of the city.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence. Ryan turned off his earpiece and you followed suit, “What’s up?”

“This may be the champagne talking but you look really hot all dressed up, I mean, gorgeous. Wow, it really must be the champagne,” Ryan scrambled all over himself. “That sounded so much better in my head.”

You snorted, “I thought I was the one drinking.”

“You were,” Ryan chuckled.

You just smiled and pulled him closer, “This might just be the champagne talking but…” You finished with a soft kiss.

Ryan didn’t even hesitate to kiss you back hungrily.

The two of you could have easily stayed like that for hours but an alarm went off pulling you apart.

“Not even gone two minutes,” you sighed and clicked your earpiece back on just in time to hear Geoff screaming your name.

“What did you fuckers do now?” you asked. Ryan laughed and took your hand once again as the two of you went into action.

#ryan haywood x reader #ryan haywood imagine #ryan h x reader #Ragehappy #rooster teeth imagine #rooster teeth reader inserts #rooster teeth inserts #rooster teeth reader insert #rooster teeth imagines #achievement hunter reader inserts #achievement hunter imagines #gta au #fahc #Fake AH Crew #RyanH #winter ragehappy

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tigerinthestars · 6 years

Text

What Can Go Wrong Part III [Final]

Summary: What was supposed to be a simple heist spirals out of control. Everything seems to be going from bad to worse. What was Murphy's Law again?

Also, the one where Jeremy saves you from certain death.

Pairing: FAHC!Jeremy x FAHC!Reader

Words: 3,052

Warnings: Language and violence.

A/N: Here’s the third and final part! Enjoy!

Read it on AO3!

Part I ~ Part II

You don’t know how long you sat there grieving before you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see Jack had opened your door and was crouched down on her knees. Her red hair was frizzy and there was blood on her floral shirt. Jeremy's blood, you guessed with a hiccup. Her eyes were kind and sad, flickering between you and the hat in your hands, as she forced a smile on her lips, her thumb rubbing your shoulder in soothing circles.

"He's gonna be okay." Her voice wavered as she said those words, a single tear fell from her eyes. She looked like she wanted to say more but either she couldn't find the words or was unable to without breaking down, you weren't sure which.

You couldn't find your voice to respond, just fell heavily into her arms. A fresh set of sobs and tears spilled from you. Jack wrapped her arms around you tightly, her own tears fell onto your filthy shirt. You both were knelt on the floor, crying into each other’s arms. After a moment, there was a shadow that fell upon you both. You didn't move an inch as you sensed the presence of others around you. You looked up when you heard someone sniffle and saw the rest of your chosen family.

Michael had taken his glasses off and was rubbing his eyes. Gavin was hanging his head in defeat. Lindsay had her forehead pressed against Michael's shoulder, her lips pressed in a hard line and eyes screwed shut. Geoff had tears freely falling from his eyes, a hand covered his mouth and his gaze was fixed on the hat in your hand. Ryan had pulled his mask off and was staring at it in his hands with a faraway look in his blue eyes.

Jack looked up as well, her teary gaze falling on the hurting family as well. You both stood together. All of you stepped forward, together, arms curling around each other’s shoulders. You all had moved into a circle, creating a group hug with your heads bowed. Your arms had remained in front of you, Jeremy's hat still in your hands. You were all painfully aware of the absent member of your family. Your hurt shared between each other as you all stood in silence. That was, until someone was brave enough to break it.

"Is he going to be okay?" Gavin asked hesitantly, his voice small and heavy with emotion. His accent thickened in his grief.

"Yeah," Geoff managed to respond, his voice cracking, "They said he should be fine."

You let out a breathed in relief, your eyes closing as you tried to compose yourself. While the news was good, this still hit too close. It still was a shock. One you will not be forgetting anytime soon.

"Fuck." Michael muttered, his eyes red with tears. "What the fuck happened?"

"He saved her," Ryan answered, "He took the bullet for Y/N."

You looked up then, up at the faces of the people you called family. You saw the remnants of their grief and having verbal conformation that you were technically responsible stabbed you like an ice-cold knife. What if…

"Damn that boy," Jack said, "His heart of gold."

"This would have been a different story if Jeremy hadn't pushed you down." Ryan said, looking right at you. "Jeremy saved your life."

You nodded at him, but you couldn't help the guilt you felt. Jeremy almost died because of you. If you weren't there. If you weren't involved. Maybe…

"He cares so much for you, you know?" Jack spoke softly to you, perceptive as always. She may not know exactly where your thoughts were taking you, but she probably had a decent idea. She always did.

You nodded again and tried to quell the guilt you felt. Licking your dry lips, you tried to clear your throat. "When can I see him?" Clearing your throat didn't help much, your voice still sounded wrecked.

"They said they would call when they were done." Geoff answered you, his voice sounding much better than it had moments ago. "Why don't we all get cleaned up? There's no telling how long it will take."

Everyone mumbled their agreements and you moved as a unit to the elevator. In the bright light of the elevator, you were reminded of your sore head. You needed to be checked out by the medical staff. Although, everyone down there is probably busy with Jeremy. May as well get cleaned up and have half their job done for them so you have more time with Jeremy.

The elevator ride to the top floors was filled with a comfortable silence as everyone broke off to their floors to get washed up. You had kept your eyes down cast to the battered hat in your grip. You got off on your floor, biding everyone a nod as a goodbye, not able to force a smile yet. You shared this floor with Jeremy. You felt the lump in your throat reform as the reality of what almost happened dawned on you once again. You don’t know what you would have done if Jeremy didn't make it. If you had to come back here without him.

With a shaky sigh you made your way to your master bedroom with its en suite bathroom. Once there, you laid the hat on your bed, your gaze lingering on the silly thing before you moved to gather up some fresh clothes from your shared closet and enter the bathroom. For the first time since to heist started you got to see what state your appearance was in staring at you from your reflection. You saw red and puff eyes and dried tear tracks; frizzy and matted hair; soot and dirt on your face and dried blood on your temple coming from somewhere above your hairline, probably from when you hit your head in the car; and bruises blossoming all over yourself. You have certainly seen better days. You looked awful.

You began to carefully peel your dirty and ripped clothes off your body. Once done, you turned the shower on and waited for the water to heat up. You inspected your body for any more injuries. You only found shallow cuts and scrapes, thankfully. When the steam began to rise, you stepped into the spacious shower and simply stood there. You watched the blood get washed off your body and swirl down the drain. You wished your pain would wash away just as easily.

You went through the motions of cleaning yourself, trying and failing to keep your mind off what was happening floors below you. You didn't want to, but you cursed him for putting you through this. You were beginning to hate the feelings in your chest. How could he do this to you? What was he thinking? Did he think getting himself killed was going to save you? How damn selfish is that?

You swallowed around the lump in your throat as your scrubbed your scalp. You loved him with all your heart. With every fiber of your being. You were so thankful to have met Jeremy in the first place. But in this moment, at this particular moment, you wished you had never met him. If you didn't know him, then you wouldn't be hurting like this. These thoughts only made you hate yourself. The bitter taste in your mouth grew as you finished your shower and grabbed your towel.

You dried yourself off angrily, though you weren't sure who you were angry with at that moment. Once dry, you peaked at yourself in the mirror and resolved that you looked better. Pulling on the clothes you grabbed, a loose t-shirt and sweat pants and a pair of underwear, and brushing your hair you still saw the emotions flashing through your eyes, you saw the tension in your body.

You were startled from your staring contest with your reflection by a knock on the door. Putting the brush down, you ran a hand through your wet hair as you made your way to the door to your floor. When you opened the door, you saw Geoff and Jack, cleaned up and wearing comfy clothes like you.

"Caleb called. He said they're done. Jeremy is fine, sleeping and pumped full of pain meds." Geoff informed you, a smile on his face.

"I came to walk you down, if you don't mind." Jack added with a smile of her own.

"Okay," you replied, "I just need to grab something really quick." You turned and made your way back to your bedroom when they nodded.

Your gaze immediately fell to the hat on your bed. You grabbed it and one of Jeremy's hoodies and went back out to Jack and Geoff who had stepped inside when you left them at the door. They gave you sad smiles when they saw what was in your arms.

"You ready?" Jack asked.

You took a moment to think, was there anything else? "He almost died." Your voice sounded hallow even to your own ears.

"But he didn't," Geoff said immediately. "It wasn't your fault, Y/N."

"Wasn't it?"

"No, it wasn't. This was his choice." Jack spoke softly. "Don’t do this to yourself, Y/N.”

"Do this to myself? He-" you interrupted yourself and looked at the floor, stealing yourself. "Should I grab him clothes?" You continued in almost a whisper.

"I'll grab them," Geoff offered, "You girls go ahead."

Jack stepped forward and placed an arm around your shoulders and guided you to the elevator. She pressed the button for the basement level and pulled you tightly into her side. "I know it hurts right now, but know that this was not your fault. In fact, you can ask him yourself when he wakes up."

"Oh, I definitely will be." You said, the hint of a smile tugged at your lips.

"I am sure he will love every moment of the verbal lashing you will give him as soon as he wakes."

"He better, the fool."

"Aren't we all?" Jack said with a chuckle as the elevator dinged, signaling that you had arrived at the appropriate floor.

The two of you made your way through the infirmary, one of the nurses pointed out the room to you as you passed. Both of you paused, Jack's hand on the door handle while yours tighten their grip on the cowboy hat and the jacket. After a moment of hesitation, you both pushed your way into the room and you found yourself once more fighting tears at the sight of him.

Jeremy was lying in a hospital bed with a sheet tucked tightly around his body. Both his arms were laid out, IV leads connecting him to the machines that surrounded him, and a blood pressure cuff was secured on his left bicep. The heart rate monitor beeped in an even rhythm and was the only sound in the room. They had cleaned his face of blood and grime, as with the rest of his body, from what you could see. He was dressed in a white shirt which hid, with help from the blanket, the damages from sight. He looked peaceful, completely at rest. That's what got you. All this scare and he is just peacefully lying there, oblivious and ignorant.

Jack guided you to the chair that had been placed by his bedside in anticipation for your arrival. You sat numbly, not once looking away from his sleeping face. Jack pulled the hoodie from your death grip and helped you put it on, breaking your sight with him for a second. You looked to her, then the hat still sitting in your lap, and then you focused back on Jeremy's face.

"Do you want me to leave you?" Jack asked, running her hand comfortingly through your wet hair.

Before you could answer, Geoff entered with a pile of Jeremy's clothes in his arms. His eye flicked over all of you before settling on Jeremy, much like yours. He frowned before moving into the room completely, shutting the door behind him and placing the clothes on a table nearby. Geoff walked to the other side of the bed where he hesitated a moment. His gazed move to you and he seemed to be conflicted with what he wants to say to you.

"They said the operation to remove the bullet went smoothly," so he spoke more with the nurses and doctors, that's what delayed him, "Minor internal damage which will heal with time, so long as he takes it easy. He lost a lot of blood," Geoff's gaze shifted to the IV lines connected to Jeremy's arms, "so they're giving him some of that and morphine and saline. They said he may not wake until tomorrow."

You nodded your acknowledgement, not trusting your voice once again. You wanted to touch him, but he looked like he might shatter if you did. You didn't think he could ever look so pale. Or so fragile.

"They brought in a cot if you feel like sleeping." Geoff gestured to the collapsed bed on wheels behind him. You don't think you'll be sleeping tonight.

"We'll leave you two be," Jack said from behind you with a pointed look at Geoff which you missed, "Unless there's something else you need?"

You shook your head and opened your mouth to thank them, but you couldn't get the words out. Geoff just smiled at you, "It's okay, sweet heart. We know."

"Call us if you need anything." Jack said with one last look at Jeremy before both she and Geoff left you to the quiet room.

You sat and stared at Jeremy. Watching his chest as he breathed. You almost lost him. The sight of him falling on the pavement flashed before your eyes, taking the bullet that was meant for you without a second thought. The tears that you thought were gone began to fall again. You began to sob quietly into his bedside, a hand shakily reaching for his face down hand. It was cold, you noted with a sniffle. Your hand curled tightly around his bigger one, pulling it closer to you so that you could press your forehead against it.

You sat there, hand in his and head laid on his bed, Jeremy's hat squished to your chest by your other hand, for so long you fell asleep. Not even the nurses coming a going to check on Jeremy woke you. What did eventually wake you was pressure on your head. You felt a hand run through your hair. You blinked sleep from your eyes and slowly sat up to hear a gravelly "Good morning" from above you. Your eyes snapped up to meet Jeremy's warm, brown ones.

"Jeremy," you said with a gasp.

"That's me," he said with a smile, "Hi, Y/N."

After a moment of shocked silence, your felt the anger, the sadness, the grief, and the confusion from yesterday come to a front. The anger was the loudest. "What the fuck, Jeremy?"

"What?" Jeremy asked as if he had no idea what you were talking about, the ass.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about! What were you thinking?" You ground your teeth together.

"I was thinking I saved your life."

"And yours? You almost-, I thought you-" You couldn't even bring yourself to finish those sentences. You felt tears prick at your eyes again. You were tired of crying.

"I wasn't thinking-"

You cut him off, "Obviously."

He had the audacity to shoot a glare at you, "Don't look at me like that. You don’t get to be pissed at me. Not after what I went through these past twenty-four hours."

"I just-. Y/N, I wasn't thinking about what happened to me," You crossed your arms and sat back in your chair, "I was thinking about you."

"So? If you," you closed your eyes for a moment and took a breath, "If you died, what was I supposed to do?"

"And if you died? Y/N, I was presented with a choice, you or me. I chose you. That's all." Jeremy tried to sit up a bit, but a groan of pain stopped him in is tracks.

You shot forward and put a hand on his chest, "Careful! You were shot, remember? You need to take it easy!" You gently pushed him down back on the bed.

Jeremy let you push him back and once he was settled, he reached up with a hand pushed your hair back behind your ears and looked you in the eyes, "If my legacy is to throw myself in the path of a bullet to save your life, then so be it."

You reached up to cup his hand to your face and shook your head, tears in your eyes, "No, we go down together. You understand?"

Jeremy laughed at that, "Fair enough." He smiled at you, love in his eyes. "Com'ere."

With the hand on the side of your face, he brought your head to his, your lips met in a chaste kiss. You tried to convey all the pain and relief you were feeling into that kiss while Jeremy responded to you with an apology. When you both broke the kiss, you pressed your foreheads together and just breathed.

You heard gagging sounds come from your right and you both turned to the door to see the rest of the Fake AH Crew stood in the doorway. The gagging sounds had come from Gavin and Michael judging by their matching grins, Lindsay giggling along. Jack had warm smile on her face and Geoff was busy trying to hold in his laugh from the lad’s antics. Ryan even had a soft and amused look in his steel eyes, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"So, how's the moron who got himself shot?" Geoff asked after he rained his laughter, only to burst out laughing along with everyone else and the crowd in the door made their way into the room.

Tears fell from your eyes, this time from happiness as you looked upon your family in fondness. There really isn't a dull moment in the Fake AH Crew.

(Anyone who says otherwise can kiss ALL your asses.)

#achievement hunter fanfiction #jeremy dooley x reader #jeremy dooley imagine #reader insert #fake ah crew #fahc jeremy #part 3 of 3 #complete

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vidderinserts · 6 years

Text

Can’t Fake It | Jon Risinger

Summary: Soulmates, Fake Ah Crew, and an artist

Warnings: I use the word cunt

Notes: Please note this is set in the FAHC world. This is not real, I don’t actually know how any of the people written about would actually be in a scenario like this. This is all a work of fiction and I mean no disrespect to any of the mentioned people

<b>Enjoy!</b>

Jon had been sixteen when his Soul Mark appeared. Pretty par for the course, as anyone who had a soulmate got the tattoo on their sixteenth birthday. Science still hadn’t quite explained it, even after hundreds of years. He had been disappointed when he couldn’t make heads or tails of the saying, probably attached to a crazy person.

Until the day he moved to Los Santos, and he found himself being held up in his new bank. By the Fake AH Crew. Who he later learned had to change the name of their gang every other week because the mud crawlers of the godforsaken city would try and use it.

That day he learned that the nonsense on his arm would fit the ridiculous abbreviations the crew had to switch to. So he decided to take the initiative.

He had always been an avid artist, talented with a brush and lines. So he began to practice, carefully dragging paint on canvas and recreating his favorite art pieces.

Geoff Ramsey always did enjoy hocking a good forgery.

He wasn’t part of the crew really, he had no taste for wild car chases or shoot-em-ups. But if Geoff wanted something appraised - he’d been sold a fake he’d been assured was genuine and it hadn’t settled well - Jon would verify its authenticity. If he wanted something forged, Jon was his guy.

He’d even paid way more than Jon had asked for a few original pieces.

Kdin had actually been the one to introduce the two and Jon would forever be grateful to her. She’d met him at a gallery - about five minutes before FAHC had stormed in - and they’d talked about the pieces he’d been showing. Impressed with his work, she’d made sure to pass his information to Geoff when they’d gone over the pieces they’d stolen.

Now, as the Vagabond helped him carry a few paintings into the latest penthouse, he once again thanked his friend mentally. He’d nearly dropped a replica of Starry Night on his foot (Haywood had snorted, but still silently made sure the artist was okay) but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Not when the most beautiful person he’d ever seen was right there.

Sitting beside Ray, pieces of his beloved rifle in their lap, was a gorgeous (h/c) person wrapped in Ray’s obnoxiously purple hoodie. They were laughing, occasionally stopping to actually help clean the weapon. The sniper looked amused, even as he tried to feign annoyance.

“Just gonna stare at them?” Jon’s gaze snapped back to Haywood (if you asked how he knew the mans name, he’d just smile and say he had his own ways) only to find the psychopath smirking. “They’re pretty cute, right?”

“I mean, that’s a handsome individual.” He flushed, blue eyes darting away.

“They’re Meg’s, part of the Dollz. They came to help Geoff out with floorplans. They’ve been inside the mark.”

“That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at once.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Jon!” The artist turned to find Ray watching with a grin. He apparently finally spotted the outlier while yanking on the purple garment, trying to get it back from the temp. Said Doll was watching with a delighted look in their eye. “Have you finally come to rekindle our love?”

“In your dreams,” he replied with an easy smile.

“Every night, Risinger.”

“So.” Jon ignored the Puerto Rican, setting the heavy canvases down against the wall and coming closer. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets, a crooked grin on his stubbly face and shoulders kinda hunched. “What’s FAHC stand for this week?”

Ryan and Ray shared a look, knowing the man asked every new person around the base the same thing. Ryan had managed to put together the ‘why’, having seen the colorful words branded on his forearm.

“Fuck Assholes Hard Cunts.” The sniper and vagabond heard the gasp both took. With a rough tug, the former was being forced out of the room. “So, uh... Jon, huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I caught your name though.”

“I didn’t throw it.” His smile grew a bit bigger as he perched on the back of the couch. They smiled up at him, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s Porcelain out on the job... but you can call me Y/N.”

“Can I call you my date for Friday?”

“Long as you never use a line like that again.” Y/N giggled.

#jon risinger x reader #fahc x reader #rooster teeth x reader #my writing #reader insert

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