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rosegoldachievement · 7 years ago

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Where Good Girls Go To Die (chapter 1)

pairing: fahc x reader

word count: 1,987

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 one / chapter two

Chapter One: Lil’ Cups of Coffee

The sun rose above the skyline, painting it various shades of pink and orange. Beams of light shone directly through the blinds and onto your face, causing you to throw the blankets over yourself.

“Fuck off.” You mumbled, trying to block out the luminescence from the other end of the room.

When you had first entered your new apartment the night previous, you immediately could tell the city’s nightlife four floors below would be hard to adapt to. Whizzing cars and alarms lasted past nightfall, making you toss and turn in your bed. It didn’t help that you were ninety percent sure gunshots had gone off only a few streets down from yours at around three in the morning.

It had taken you five minutes to retreat from the darkness of your sheets and get up from the bed, going through the obstacle course of unpacked boxes that cluttered your room.

You had finally managed to make it to your kitchen without dying and began to rummage through the boxes on the island for the one labeled ‘kitchen appliances’. After a few minutes of searching, you found it and pulled out the coffee machine. This was only one of many graduation presents from your family, and just like most of the others, it was unused and still in its original packaging.

After finally setting up the machine and making a pot of coffee, you began to unpack the boxes that were scattered across the dining area. It was quite a chore, but you knew it had to get done sometime..

The clock showed ten o’clock in the morning when you finished unpacking. You had managed to create a home for every object, developing a comfy atmosphere. Yet, when you were cleaning, you couldn't help but notice the lack of food in your fridge. Your parents didn't enjoy the concept of you taking the food they had on your move, so you settled for knowing you would have to go shopping once you arrived at your new town.

“I guess it's time for a shopping trip.” If you remembered correctly, there was a small plaza with convenience store a few blocks away from your apartment building. After changing into a pair of comfy sweatpants and a thin tee-shirt and exiting your apartment. you walked down the four flights of stairs to the ground floor. From there, you walked out of the double glass doors and watched as the city bloomed to life upon walking onto the sidewalk.

Your attempt to dodge the clusters of people while walking was fruitless, clipping some shoulders as you went down the street. The differences between Los Santos and your hometown were like black and white. At home, you could go blocks without seeing anyone but here, you couldn't even step without stepping on someone's foot.

By the time you pulled yourself out of your thoughts, you had arrived at the plaza the store was in. From the looks of it, the other places that inhabited the lot were a laundromat, tattoo parlor, and pizza place. You were about to enter your set destination when someone suddenly bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance and fall.

“Fuck,” a somewhat familiar voice grumbled. You looked up to see brown eyes that you had glimpsed at many times throughout the years but rather foreign green hair.

“Jeremy?” You managed to ask, mouth agape. The male seemed to be taken back from hearing his name, studying your features before realizing who you were.

“Y/n?” He offered a hand to help you up, which you gladly accepted. After he pulled you to your feet, you couldn't believe that your ex best friend, Jeremy Dooley, was stood in front of you. The same Jeremy Dooley who packed up his old beat up truck the morning of his eighteenth birthday and left the town without saying goodbye to anyone, including you. In that moment, you wanted to question his choices. Yet, you felt like you had already known the answer.

“Uh, yeah. It’s been awhile, huh?” You allowed your thoughts to quickly dissolve into the back of your brain. An eternity of silence seemed to slip over the two of you before a bright smile overtook his features. He seemed to gaze down at the watch on his wrist before putting his attention back on you.

“You in a rush? If not, I’d love to take you out to get some coffee and talk for a little. My treat.” You opened your mouth to admit you were actually on your way to shop and politely excuse yourself, but the words that escaped your mouth were anything but.

“Coffee sounds great,Jer.”

“Alright, cool. I know a place we can walk to from here. C’mon.” Jeremy began to walk the way in which he came, only leaving you to follow. As you caught up him and your footsteps fell in line with his, you couldn’t help but question your own feelings in the moment. Half of you was eager to learn how Jeremy has been all of these years, but the other half hated how casual this seemed. You even used his old nickname, for fuck’s sake.

Jeremy ended up leading you to an ally. You were about to question him when you noticed a blinking neon sign saying ‘Rimmy Tim’s’ hung up above a descending staircase. The sign casted tinted the ally with its custom colors, which happened to be an very distasteful purple and orange.

“Y/n?” Your vision drifted from the sign to see Jeremy lingering below it, his right hand lightly grasping the handrail. “You coming?” A sudden sound of embarrassment came from your lips as you quickly nodded your head, going back to his side once more.

At the bottom of the staircase stood frosted glass double doors, serving as an entrance way to the shop. With one hand, Jeremy opened the large door, revealing the coffee shop behind it. As Jeremy expertly guided you to a specific table, you began to observe your surroundings. The strong scent of coffee beans hung in the air as you passed by the front counter. The color scheme of Rimmy Tim’s matched the outside, the interior design seemingly as mix of industrial and nautical. This created a peaceful aura, which was something you needed after moving. You wouldn’t expect a gem like this to be tucked underground the city of Los Santos.

“Do you come here often?” You asked, slipping into the booth that Jeremy had picked out. You expected him to do the same, but he just stood next to the table.

“You could say that. I’m going to get us something to drink.” You began to stand up, but Jeremy immediately shook his head.

“Nope, you stay here.” Your eyebrows knitted together as you shot him a confused look.

“Jeremy, you don’t even know my order.” Jeremy was quick to dismiss your concerns, waving his hand as if swatting them away.

“Trust me, I’ll figure it out. Now sit.” Reluctantly, you sat down and Jeremy took his victory in stride as he turned on his heel and headed towards the front counter. While you awaited Jeremy’s return, you found yourself playing with different apps on your phone. You had just completed a very difficult level in a puzzle game when he returned, placing a white ceramic coffee cup down in front of you. As he sat down across from you, you looked down in the hopes to identify what he had gotten you. The top was covered with whipped cream, so you couldn’t exactly figure out the exact contents of your drink. Jeremy took a sip of what seemed to be some kind of iced drink before speaking.

“Go ahead, try it.” He gestured to the cup in front of you. You casted him a look of uncertainty, causing him to chuckle. “Y/n, just taste it.” With a sigh, you raised the cup up to your lips and took a small sip. As the liquid touched your tongue, a sense of familiarity rushed over you. Your (eye color) eyes flashed upwards, making contact with Jeremy’s.

“Is this a cafe mocha?” You smiled, taking another sip, this one bigger than the last. Jeremy’s smile grew as he nodded. Memories of junior year of high school flooded your brain, Jeremy and you sitting at one of the only coffee shops in town and talking for hours on end. A sad smile crossed over your lips, thinking about all of the days you had spent there, nursing a drink identical to the one you had now.

“Just like the one at home, right? I wasn’t sure if you still liked them, but I wanted to give it a shot.” He watched as you enjoyed your drink, taking a sip of his own before continuing to speak. “Speaking of home, why aren't you there?” You rested your coffee on the table, your hands still wrapped around the cup, enjoying the warmth it was giving off.

“I moved here yesterday.” Jeremy’s face contorted into a shocked expression, a silence lingering in the air between you. It took him awhile to formulate the words, but after a minute, Jeremy spoke up.

“Why did you move here? A city, nonetheless? Weren’t you always the one saying you wanted to settle down and make a family back home?” Well, he wasn’t wrong. Jeremy moved to your small, quaint town the summer before fourth grade from Boston. His rebunkous self refused to conform to the country background of your town. Ever since you had known Jeremy, he had been claiming he was going to move back to the city one day. You idolized his ambition and need for change, but your small town was all you had ever known. But, once Jeremy left, you realized that his spontaneous behavior was what made your town bearable.

“Yeah. I know what you mean. It’s just things started to get….” You trailed off, trying to figure out where you were going with that sentence before shrugging. “I don’t know, boring, I guess?” Jeremy’s mouth swung open to answer, but the sound of his phone going off averted his attention.

“Shit, I gotta take this. I’m sorry.” A frown formed on his face once he read the caller ID.

“It’s fine, take your time.” You told him, raising your coffee to your lips. With that, Jeremy answered the call and walked away.

After a few minutes, Jeremy returned, still bearing a frown.

“Hey, I’m really sorry to do this but, that was work. I gotta go.” You sighed, but understood.

“It’s alright, I understand. It was really nice catching up with you, Jeremy. Thanks for the coffee.” Jeremy’s frown quickly turned into a smile at your words.

“No problem. I’ll cya around, I guess.” Jeremy jammed his hand into his pocket and turned around. A second seem to pass before he sighed, quickly turning back around to face you. “Sorry, I was just wondering, uh, can I put my number in your phone?” He suddenly asked. You smiled and nodded, picking your phone up from the table and handing it over to him.

“Yeah, of course!” Jeremy quickly put his information in and handed you back his phone. The moment he did this, his phone buzzed, indicating he received a message. After checking it, you heard him mumble something under his breath.

“Alright, I’m coming. Calm the fuck down, Geoff.” You brought yourself not to question this, since it seemed like Jeremy was only talking to himself. “Alright, y/n. Text me whenever you get the time.” And with that, you watched your former best friend walk away and disappear out of the frosted double doors at the front of Rimmy Tim’s. Staring at the half-empty cup he left across from you, you found yourself chuckling.

“Maybe moving here won’t be so bad after all.”

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chezzkaa · 7 years ago

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Von, Pardon?

Pairing: Ryan Haywood x Reader & Jeremy Dooley x Reader Universe: Fake AH Crew (Cinders)

Summary: Jeremy’s attempts to secure a gallery setting for an art show sees you roped into being his wife, a wealthy and influential art investor - much to Ryan and your family’s amusement.

WC: 4788 [Master List]

Jeremy shuffles nervously in the doorway, eyes darting uncomfortably between you and Ryan’s lounging figure splayed across the faded grey couch, hair tumbling over the cream and maroon pillows to spill off the edge. Ray perches in the centre of the muted lilac rug covering the rich wooden floors, completely engulfed in Tilly as she pounces back and forth over his chest, swiping at his nose before bouncing away playfully.

Around you the world bustles without a care, large windows opening up like panels into a narrative; each seat offering you a new outlook. The ocean gently lapping at the crisp sand, the ice cream parlour with the jovial owner who’s love of sunshine yellow cardigans knew no bounds. But in your pent house you could stop and watch others tumbling through their stresses, safe and far away.

Jeremy struggles, a trembling hand running clumsily through his freshly dyed hair, finger tips still stained purple. Your lips pull away into a glittering beam, his tensions visibly easing at the sight.

“Of course I'll come to the show, is that even a real question? You’ve worked your ass off, there's no way I'd miss it.”

Ryan hauls himself into sitting, an equally warm and supportive smile curving across his strong features, “we'll all come.”

Ray's attention darts to the conversation, apprehension shifting in the scorching depths of his eyes, hand busy scratching Tilly's ear; “what’re you volunteering me for? Every time you do that I nearly die.”

“That was once time!” he defends, body rocking back while he shoots out a hand offence.

“Three times, actually,” you pat his knee in correction before tapping Ray with your foot; having to sink down in the matching bucket chair to reach.

“Jeremy's got art show tomorrow.” The man’s face relaxes, eyes drifting back to your cat as she tries to curl on his chest.

“Look at pictures and shit? I can do that, I'm a pro.”

“For the amount of time you spend glued to video games,” Ryan muses affectionately, eyes resting on Ray’s pursed lips and raised eyebrows, “I have no doubt.”

The sound of Jeremy clearing his throat anxiously catches your attention, cheeks growing pink as he rocks on the balls of his feet; incredibly out of place and caught between the kitchen and living space. “It’s a, err, it’s a black tie event; and I sorta kinda need a date.”

"Oh c’mon, lil J,” teases Ryan smugly, leaning back with his hands behind his head, “I can't believe it’s taken you this long to ask me out. But I'm sorry to say,” his face falls, holding out his left hand and wiggling his fingers, “the opportunity's 5 years too late. I'm happily married.”

“You bet your ass you are,” you warn, watching him shrink into the pillows with his bottom lip drawn between his teeth. The sight sends your heart fluttering, his devoting smile contagious.

“I'll be your date,” interjects Ray in between Tilly's fur; grinning up at Jeremy as he moves to stand beside another empty seat, bright purple and orange classing rudely in your living room. “I’ll do anything for free food.”

Jeremy lets off an uncomfortable and irritated hum, fingers drumming against the invitations he gripped in white knuckles. Pleadingly he looks to you, your ball of sunshine now a bundle of nerves.

“See here's the thing: I kinda sorta might've told the owner of the space I was married... To our beloved news anchor's female associate... who happens to be a famous art investor?”

“Oh Jeremy,” you groan as your head falls into your hands, Ryan's deep chuckles swamped by the loud cackles emanating from Ray.

“I had to Y/N,” he cries, “it looked good on the application and it's the only reason he's letting me use the space.” With a half hearted sigh you stand, accepting the thick printed invitation and peering down at Jeremy’s most professional scrawl.

“Oh you're kidding,” you mumble into the golden lettering “Beatrice? You fucking called me Beatrice?!”

“Beatrice Von Bisurart,” he squeaks quietly, collapsing into the empty seat and curling his chest to his knees, arms hanging uselessly by his side.

“Buys your art? Jeremy I taught you better than this.”

“I panicked, okay? It was all very stressful,” the man has to increase his volume, tears now rolling down Ryan’s cheeks as he grows pink from laughter, hunching against his knees to hold in his sides. “And it asked for a significant other and I just lost it and I’m sorry; please be my date?”

“‘Von’, Jeremy!” You smack the paper with wide eyes staring at him, as though you could force some sense into the situation, “where the fuck did you get ‘Von’?”

“It sounded cool, like you’re a vampire slayer or something; I don’t know!”

“You wanted people to think you’d married a vampire slaying art investor? Jeremy, how are we supposed to get matching rings for this shit by tomorrow?”

Recovering, Ryan grins, standing with creaking knees to lay a supportive hand on his battle buddy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.”

“You suck, Jeremy. I’m gonna have to find a fucking babysitter now,” you pout at the clashing monstrosity vibrating in the cream chair, small groans falling into his lap. Tossing the invitation onto the glass coffee table in defeat you glance to the sky streaked with paint as the sun sets, chuckling delicately.

“Okay, so Jeremy might suck,” Ryan admits, Jeremy letting out a deep, rattling sigh. “But nothing sucks more than being called Beatrice Von Bisurart.”

“Whatcha think of this one?” Jeremy asks, holding the ring to the flashlight's beam; glow dancing off the particles caught in the air. Ryan looks up from the display he was pilfering, joining Jeremy and staring critically at the piece through the smudged face paint. Eventually he shakes his head.

“Do you really think Von Bisurart would wear anything with less than a cluster fuck of diamonds?”

“Oh crap,” Jeremy groans in agreement, tossing the ring behind him; your fingers pinching it mid flight as you shuffle through the necklaces, “you're so right, Ryan. Von Bon is a classy bitch.”

“I dunno,” you counter, shining the light onto the ring as it shines brighter than the gold dusting your eyes, voice muffled through the bandana, “I think it's kinda nice.”

“My wife deserves more than nice,” Jeremy retaliates indignantly, Ryan nodding vigorously by his side. With a sweeping gesture Jeremy's eyes glaze over, a dreamy smile hanging from his lips, “she deserves the world.”

You're chuckling when returning to scavenge, tentatively stepping over the shattered glass sprinkling the carpet from your entrance, careful of the dangers the dark might house. Careering to the counter you rip out the draw beneath the register to reveal the products too expensive to display for the public; riches glittering in excitement as your eyes rake curiously over the sharp edges and pools of gems.

Rifling through, you're immediately drawn to the thick necklace choked with diamonds, jewels dripping to your collarbone and flush against your neck when you lift the bandana and press it to you skin. With an affectionate chuckle Ryan joins you; fingers brush the nape of your neck to sweep away stray hairs before taking the clasp and latching it, the weight heavy against the hollow of your throat.

“Oh, now that's nice,” he compliments with a hammering heart as you turn to face him; lost in the rainbows fracturing your eyes. “Beautiful.”

“Hey,” snaps Jeremy, his exaggerated frown appearing above your shoulder, “stop fraternizing with my wife, Ryan.”

“She was my wife first, Jeremy.”

“Well, this is awkward,” shuffles the younger man with a quirk of the lips, eyes drifting to the stacks of jewels you'd unearthed. With a start he lunges in to snatch a hefty ring, every inch littered with elaborate diamonds and shifting colours. Ryan's hand moves to your lower back, redirecting attention to Jeremy, the young man’s face excited as you offer him your hand to allow the incredibly loud fake wedding ring to slip neatly above the real.

“And this is perfect!”

In all the time you’d known Jeremy, he’d never been this nervous. His breath rattled with every vibration rocking through his body, hand’s either buried deep in his pockets or smoothing back his hair for the millionth time. You sigh, his anxieties lapping at your skin as you approach the gallery, lights glowing invitingly from the windows.

Though a relatively warm night, the breeze gnawed against your skin and through the tumbling royal purple skirts exploding from your waist, tracing the hems of your chest trapped tightly in a cantaloupe sweetheart neckline, arms encased in flattering sleeves but fingers exposed to the wind. Comfort came from the weighted necklace from last night, nestled in the hollows of your throat and emanating power.

Slipping your hand into his with a sense of familiarity and ease, your fingers give him a gentle and reassuring squeeze, his chestnut eyes frantically glancing between your smiling face and the fear throbbing around the final destination.

“You’ll be okay, J,” you comfort, clicking up the steps in your incredibly tall heels, “you’re an amazing artist. This is gonna be seamless, they’ll be nothing left on the walls.”

“I dunno,” he mumbles in reluctance, an invisible barrier stopping him just before the entrance. You turn to face him, hands moving to his shoulders, resting atop the floral patterns blooming with royal purple variants across his suit jacket.

“Listen to me, just breathe. You’re nervous now, but once we get through those doors you’re Benjamin Von Bisurart. A smooth talking, confident man with a stupid name, who I’m incredibly proud of.”

“You’re right,” he nods, letting you loop his arm intimately around your waist, bodies fitting together like they were fashioned with each other in mind.

“We’re all here to support you,” you continue, straightening his matching cantaloupe bowtie before resting your palm against the curve of his back. He takes a few shaky breaths, his grip tightening as he collects himself.

“Remember,” you murmur, directing him towards the large man at the entrance, his welcoming smile false and pained, “my offer to stab everyone still stands.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” he whispers while removing the invitations and handing them over, the man checking them before moving aside.

“You’re such a party pooper, Von Bisurart.”

“Von, pardon? Oh, oh!” he catches himself, passing the man and entering the bustling space, overwhelmed by the crowd muttering at his art in approval, “you mean me. Right, okay.”

Inside the stiflingly warm room packed with dull shades of grey bodies, all you see are erratic splashes of colour glued to the walls. Sharp tones slashing through cool comforts, grand canvases coated in complex patterns, sculptures etched with dramatic angles. Jeremy had left a part of himself in each piece, the expanse of his emotion lain out for critique.

You could pick out which artwork tied to the different points of his life, the darker, brooding works heavy and loaded with stress, loaded with Laura. Loaded with Gareth. Splayed out across bleach white walls and curving hallways, the pieces flowed like a journey. Bright colours moving with ease and the dark pain staggered, cluttered and overwhelming.

Littered throughout the winding rooms are the family that lived the paintings, each brush stroke cutting as sharp as the knife buried in their heart, faded smoke as cold as the gun with bullets whizzing with a splash of colour. Jack’s voice reaches you first, Jeremy redirecting your gaze to the powerful woman with fire for hair and flames for soul. Towering in her signature heels, her shape is draped in elegance and freckle clusters, grape fabric pooling to the floor in fountains, long shapely legs protruding from the slits.

Beside her stands Geoff, tall and proud, incredibly neat in peach slacks and a brilliant white button down, moustache meticulously twirled to follow the curves of his smile. Beneath the cuffs and collar of his dress shirt poke the stifled narrative, seeping into his fingers and tainting his knuckles. He seems content in holding Jack’s drink while she gestures wildly, scolding voice putting a narrow minded critic back in his place. At her words Jeremy smiles, excusing himself to join them after Jack motions with a gold adorned hand, his fingers burning as they leave your waist.

As he leaves, you catch sight of Lindsay and Michael, smartly dressed in matching black attire, streaks of tangerine orange and rich purple dancing through his tie and her sheer scarf. Chatting to a waiter Michael works his charm and talks exuberantly with his hands, drinks tray being emptied behind the server’s back by Lindsay, expertly balancing brimming flute glasses between her fingers. She nods to Michael, disappearing into the shadows as he redirects the servers attention by yelling ‘hey!’ after an invisible culprit, scampering away to hide with his wife and live his best life; duel wielding champagne glasses.

Gavin wastes no time in emerging from the door to the kitchen, clutching a tray loaded with elaborate canapés. Beneath the shimmering gold of his waistcoat glares an aubergine shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and loose around the collar, legs stretching with incredible length in pastel pumpkin trousers.

Tearing your eyes away from their laughter, you can’t help but notice people avoiding the anger and pain, instead congregating around the expansive paintings splotched with happy pastels in their dull tones. Stood in an abandoned hallway, Jon in a classic sherbet orange suit jacket stares up at the suffocating piece twirling with deep blues and heavy grey tones, colours found so easily in his eyes, a hand fiddling with the delicate lavender of his shirt.

Beside the man with wild hair is a familiar face from a lifetime ago. Clinging to your brother’s hand, a suit of orchid, apricot and sunshine yellow hides the inherent clumsiness of his person. His deep olive skin glows beneath the light, hazel eyes studying the piece before him, a hand musing through his messy brunet curls as he stares in wonder. Jon mirrors the expression, though understanding and empathy flows as an undertone.

“This is incredible,” breathes Ben as you approach, eyes tearing from the piece to greet you, the long forgotten fear sparking for a moment before he settles into an easy, lopsided smile.

“I’m glad you appreciate my husband’s work,” you tease, resting a comfortable hand on his shoulder, casting a glance to Jon, who beams brightly.

“He’s very talented,” he muses, letting go of Ben’s hand and pulling you into a hug, as warm as ever, “I’m so glad it’s all worked out for him.”

“He’s been so nervous,” you admit, attention drifting from the bright eyes of your family to the dark pain of one of your best friends, agony splatter on the canvas. “The gallery owner’s been trying to get in his ass all week, apparently.”

“Oh no,” sympathises Jon, lips flattening in concern, “Mr... err, oh god what’s his name? Ermm...” He snaps his fingers; face scrunching as he turns to look up to Ben for help, the man smiling down with patience and adoration.

“Mr Vermont,” he offers, Jon’s forehead resting against his shoulder with a groan, “we’ve still got to speak to him. He invited you personally, and you promised to interview him for your news segment.”

“Thank you,” your brother breathes in relief, “what would I do without you?”

“Look a lot less attractive,” he teases, pressing a gentle kiss into Jon’s wild hair, gentle chuckles resonating from their shoulders and dancing around your feet.

You’re smiling at Ben, overwhelmingly grateful for the role he’s played in your life and the lives of those you loved; knowing you couldn’t apologise enough for the years lost to anger and confusion. Still, the joy that had returned to Jon could only be attributed to him. His patience, understanding and loving adoration leading him to devote all he had to Jon’s recovery from the trauma of memory loss. You’d never be able to thank him for bringing your brother back from the brink, certain the downward spiral would have dragged him further into self destruction.

“There’d be less ice cream,” you joke, ears pricking at the sound of youthful, girlish giggles; “that’s for sure.”

“You’ve got a point,” Ben agrees, watching your eyes scan the room for the source of the joyful noises, “it’s not as though there’s 20 other ice cream parlours in Los Santos or anything.”

“Heaven forbid!” Jon gasps, eyebrows quirking as Ben laughs, rich and deep.

“Besides, you’re conveniently within walking distance of our apartments.” You chuckle, eyes coming to land on Ray, dressed head to toe in purple bar a bright orange tie, a red haired two year old doused in a starfish orange dress sparkling as bright as her amethyst shoes perched against his hip. As soon as he appeared Ray vanishes behind Trevor and Alfredo, the pair in matching mulberry and pink ginger pinstripe suits, talking animatedly to one another.

“We should probably let you go,” admits Ben, a sweeping motion catching the entire room, “Mrs. Von What’s-your-face must have some networking to do!” Your eyes narrow at the mischievous pop of his dimples, gold glittering in his eyes.

“Careful, Benji,” you warn with a teasing smile, “I made you, and it’ll be easy to break you.”

“Go on,” he challenges as Jon laughs, coaxing away his beaming boyfriend – who can’t help but trip over his own legs, “bring it on!”

“I’ll eat you out of ice cream, don’t you think I won’t!”

A sharp, insistent tugging on your skirts makes you turn, Jon and Ben dematerialising to explore the rest of the gallery. Stood beside you is a bright girl, her eyes achingly familiar, a deep blue ocean meeting the crisp white sand, light fracturing playfully. You smile, crouching to level with her, giggles tumbling from her lips as your face scrunches; taking her hands in yours.

“Georgina, what’re you doing running around without Daddy?”

The girl shrugs, lips sharing the shape of your own as she chews the bottom, “I lost him.”

“I don’t think you did,” you state knowingly, poking her button nose, “I think you ditched him.”

“No!” she exclaims joyfully, attempting to hide the smile splitting her pretty face, eyelashes long and fluttering.

“Georgie, did you abandon Daddy?”

“... Maybe.”

“Oh sweetie,” you chuckle, brushing back the tumbling golden curls cascading over her shoulders and straightening the amethyst dress that had begun to bunch around her waist, “you know Daddy can’t manage on his own.”

“She’s right,” comes a deep and affectionate chuckle, Ryan parting through the crowd to stand behind the girl, who shrieks in delight. “What would I do without my girls?”

“You’d die!” Georgie offers, skipping in place as you straighten up, laughing while greeting Ryan’s churning eyes and adoring expression. Stood with confidence, his grey, slim fitting jacket traces his curves and angles, papaya dress shirt tucking snug into wine slacks. Taking him in, you’re breathless, hair in similar curls to those of your daughter – if not a little darker – perching atop his head in an elegant bun with spiralling locks brushing the nape of his neck and resting against his jaw bone and shoulders.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur, having to shake out of the trace ensnaring you in his eyes, caught in the waves. He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a delicate kiss that leaves your skin tingling and excited.

“Henry Lawrence.” He released your hand reluctantly, instead stroking Georgie’s hair. “Mrs. Von Bisurart, this is my eldest, Georgina.”

Your daughter waves, delighting in playing pretend and offering you a tiny hand similar to the way her father had. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss.”

You accept it, fingers curling against her warm palm, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

“Good job, Georgie,” Ryan breathes as he creaks to the ground, hands carefully lifting the small girl into his arms; a joyful smile sparkling in his eyes as she giggles. Brushing her blond hair from her face her blue eyes shine with the same light as her father’s, her dress crinkling as he supports her against his hip; flowers spilling with amethyst making up her skirt. “You’ll get your candy later.”

“Now,” she giggles, Ryan pressing his nose against hers, rocking back and forth.

“Oh no,” he smiles, “a deal’s a deal.” Georgie pouts, eyes moving to you as her eyebrows knit together.

“Mommy-”

“Ah ah aahh, you little sneak,” Ryan cuts off, looking proudly at his daughter’s triumphant expression, her hands out and eagerly awaiting her prize.

“I’m so proud.”

“She got that from you,” he sighs, planting a kiss against her forehead and pressing a noisy packet into her tiny hands, fingers clumsily ripping open the bag.

“I’m not even denying it,” you smile, reaching out a hand as Jeremy joins you, ruffling her blond curls and receiving another beautiful giggle in return, “I’m teaching her to take over the world.”

“Don’t you mean ‘take on’?”

“Oh no,” you deny the correction, smiling at Jeremy and slipping your hand into his own, Ryan beaming and bouncing your daughter; Georgie’s feet kicking with glee, “she’s going to rule the world.”

She beams, chest puffing out and face falling serious as Ryan rests his head against her own. “I’m gonna be a princess.”

“Oh really?” chuckles Jeremy, “and what will her ladyship Princess Georgina do?”

“Rule with an iron fist.”

‘“Ryan, don’t let her think dictatorship is a valuable form of governance!” you cast him a half hearted glare, the young girl cackling evilly along with Jeremy.

“Okay, yeah I taught her that. But she’ll be the cutest little dictator.”

“Mad King and Princess Georgina!” the small girl chants excitedly, Ryan swinging her in his arms and tossing her onto his shoulders; her tiny arms winding around his neck.

“That’s right, sweetie,” he smiles, “but don’t forget about your sister.”

“No,” she shakes her head in small jerks, “Corrie to the dungeons.”

Ryan draws in a dramatic gasp, peering up lovingly into her crystal blue eyes, “don’t imprison your knights! How’s she gonna defend our kingdom if she’s dead?”

“Oh,” Georgie considers this fact hard, face contorting in concentration before she sighs. “She’s no good dead.”

“That’s my girl, you’ve gotta be logical about these things. Let’s go find her and Uncle Ray.”

“Uncle Ray! He can go to the dungeons,” she squeals in delight, Ryan’s chuckling as he holds Georgie steady.

“It’ll probably be the nicest place he’s ever lived.”

“I’m a good princess.”

“The best,” agrees Ryan, the love in his eyes shifting to you and Jeremy, offering out his free hand. You take it, shaking firmly and settling back into the role you still had to pay. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Von Bisurart. Do you mind if I call you Bee?”

“Yes, I do Mr. Lawrence,” you grumble, Jeremy’s laughter warm against the exposed skin of your shoulder. Ryan’s eyes flash mischievously, their corners crinkling in amusement as Georgie’s feet swing playfully either side of his head.

“Bee it is,” Ryan smiles, shaking Jeremy’s hand next.

“Be good to her,” he warns warmly, motioning as you wiggling your fingers at your daughter, blowing her kisses and watching her attempt to catch them; pressing the final one clasped in her fist to Ryan’s forehead. “She’s a keeper.”

“She’s out of my league,” his sighs teasingly, watching as Ryan backs away with Georgie, her small hands grabbing at the air in a wave goodbye.

“Oh yeah she is.”

Then he’s disappearing into the crowd, Georgie’s blond curls towering above the milling guests, laughter accompanying Ryan’s joyful chuckles.

“We couldn’t find a babysitter,” you whisper to Jeremy, lips brushing against his neck as your children skip alongside Ryan and Ray; their laughter pealing through the room and weaving with the canvases.

“Understandable,” he manages, shaking himself as you pull away to beam at him beneath the watchful gaze of the patrons, his fingers gripping the fabric against your hip.

“I didn’t think their Uncle Jear Bear would mind,” you muse, the depths of your eyes shifting in the light, splashes of colour reflecting in thanks. Jeremy shrugs, a comedic smirk curving through his face before he’s interrupted by a gruff, reproachful voice.

“I didn’t realise you’d be inviting children into my Gallery, Mr. Von Bisurart.”

“Why wouldn’t children be welcome?” Your tone is harsh and belittling, anger pooling in your stomach. The man attached to the voice acknowledges your presence with wide eyes, taking in the cruelty deep beneath your vicious beauty. He doesn’t speak for a moment, his sallow face and sunken eyes dragging on as long as the silence until Jeremy wraps an arm more firmly around your waist.

“You must be Mrs. Von Bisurart,” he tried politely, but you brush his words aside; face hard and fierce.

“Why wouldn’t children be welcome?”

“Art galleries are for the prestigious, the meaning is wasted on children. All they do is kick and scream, it ruins the peace. I mean, this child and a man in a hideous purple suit were just playing on the floor!” he explains, caught off guard by your forwardness, casting a glance to Jeremy that told him to keep you in line. The same look Geoff must have experienced before Jack had lost her cool.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth, Mr..?”

“Vermont.”

“I don’t really care,” you spit cooly, enjoying the rejection flitting across his face. “I’ve met many a men like you, and I can tell you from experience, none of you deserve the spotlight you’ve directed to the self constructed pedestal you stand on.”

“Excuse me?” He splutters, Jeremy somehow finding the confidence to stand beside you.

“No one will want to invest in art with such unprofessionalism – which your husband seems talented in.”

Vermont visible flinches from your anger, Cheshire kept comfortably on her reins like she had for years, pacing in the ruts of pattern.

“It’s nothing personal,” Vermont growls, “your art just doesn’t fit the space.”

“It’s a good thing we won’t be coming back,” you snap, eyes like daggers. “You seem to have forgotten, Vermont, that I could ruin your career in the creative space within an instant. All it takes is one bad review from someone influential; and by god am I revered.”

He shakes, blubbering his apology when realising his career rested in your imaginative, art investor hands. An audience attunes to your scolding, gentle murmurs of agreement and fearful respect rippling through the crowd. Geoff’s yells of ‘hear, hear’, not going unappreciated.

“How dare you treat the talent keeping your business running so poorly. Without them, you’re nothing. A single one of his paintings will fetch more than you’re worth outside these walls, and that’s a professional’s perspective. It’s also important for you to know that you’re fucked.”

Beneath your glare he cowers, whispers of price ranges surrounding you, a young man tapping Jeremy on the shoulder to inquire about one of the larger pieces. All at once offers for purchase hurtle towards him, mind unable to juggle all the numbers as an impromptu auction breaks out. Ryan’s moves to stand beside you, arms filled with your daughters, Corrine tugging at your hair while Ray nods vigorously from your left.

Amidst the yelling and desperation to purchase Jeremy’s artwork and his excitement radiating against your back you bring Corrine into your arms, satisfied that the room was distracted while you prop the girl against your hip, hand holding her head against your chest.

At the sight Vermont’s eyes widen, hopes and dreams crashing as he realises the children he’d despised throughout the night were your own. Confusion and fear brims as he tries to understand whose work was really being housed in his gallery; and who he’d be left to deal with once everything was said and done. “Trust me; the Fakes don’t take too kindly to assholes like you.”

“J,” calls Ryan over his shoulder, the man looking to him with glee as your husband jabs a finger to the painting splattered with the colours of Ryan’s eyes, laced with Cheshire’s signature golden shimmer and ash black splotches twirling in the gleaming colourful depths of your own eyes, “we’re taking that one home!”

Yells of protest sound from the crowd, Ryan pressing a kiss to the top of Georgie’s head as Corrine cuddles into you, watching the chaos in bubbly delight.

“Sold,” yells Jeremy, hands in the air to hold back voices clambering over one another to be heard, “to the terrifying man with great hair.”

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rt-reader-inserts · 7 years ago

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Wrapping

The title is bad I know, but welcome to the first day of the Christmas prompts! (I live in Australia so it’s December for me)

Day one’s prompt is “This present has more tape on it than wrapping paper” with the lovely Jeremy. Enjoy xx

“Y/N, what are you doing?�� Jeremy had entered the room you had been sitting in. After the hours you had been in there the once clean and organised floor was covered in scraps of paper, tape and ribbon.

“Wrapping?” You huffed, defeated. In one hand you held a partially covered book, and there were bits of tape stuck in your hair. You hadn’t cut a piece of wrapping paper the right size to cover the book, but were working under the assumption that tape, a second bit of paper and metres of ribbon would fix it.

“Have you ever, I don’t know, wrapped a box before?” Jeremy laughed loudly, walking towards you. He used his feet to clear a small area of wrapping paper on the ground before sitting down next to you.

From the pile of presents you had already covered in your version of wrapping - a mess of tape, ribbon and paper - he picked up what appeared to be a small box and gave it a once over. “There’s more tape on this present than wrapping paper! Maybe I should take it from here...”

“No! No, Jeremy, I got it. I just need more tape,” You said, unable to admit defeat at the hands of a simple task.

“Y/N, you don’t need more tape, you need far, far less.” He laughed, leaning into your side. At least your struggle provided joy to Jeremy, who was really enjoying watching you pull endless strips of tape off the dispenser. He placed a hand on top of yours as you reached for another strip to place on the poorly covered book. “I really think you need to start over.”

You sighed, abandoning the book by tossing it to the side. “Why was I born without the amazing powers it takes to make a present look good?” You rest your head on Jeremy’s shoulder, closing your eyes. He placed his arm around you, the weight a comfortable feeling.

“Maybe just stick to putting the unwrapped gifts in bags - without any tape,” He smiled as he gently pulled a piece of tape off your cheek. You laughed in response, matching his actions by pulling off the bits of tape stuck to your arm.

“Or I could have you wrap them for me?” You turned your face to look at Jeremy, smirking up at him.

“I can’t say no to you, babe,” He presses a kiss to your forehead, reaching past you to grab a roll of wrapping paper, putting it down next to his crossed legs.

“I think my role should be creative director rather than the chief wrapper,” You hummed, eyes following Jeremy’s hands as he managed to wrap the presents better than you ever could. He placed the wrapped present in your lap, leaving his hand on your knee. “Remind me to never touch a piece of sticky tape again,” You sighed, burying your head further into Jeremy’s shoulder.

“I mean, at least you’re great at other things,” He said, resting his head on top of yours. “Even though you’re terrible at wrapping I still love you.”

“I love you too, J,” You clasped his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together.

#jeremy x reader #jeremy dooley imagine #jeremy dooley x reader #achievement hunter imagines #achievement hunter reader insert #mod kate #christmas prompts

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tigerinthestars · 7 years ago

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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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stormynightcloud · 7 years ago

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Looking for good fanfic recommendations, preferably longer stories (like a few thousand words or more), but I will read short ones as well!! I mostly only read RT/AH/FH/CC stuff right now, so that’s what I’m looking for. Literally, if you read/write fanfic, recommend me your stuff!! My fav pairing right now is probably Ryan/Reader but I will legit read any of it.

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rtxyou · 7 years ago

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Neon

Pairing: Jeremy(FAHC) x Reader

Warnings: Jeremy being a nervous boi

Walking home from work was a usual thing, living in a crime high area such as Los Santos leads to cars being expensive. You see the group of men walking towards you but think nothing of it, you keep your eyes forward and your headphones in. One of them slightly bumps your shoulder and when you turn to confront him you see neon purple and orange hair. His mouth moves in what you assume is an apology and you nod not able to form words. He turns and you go back towards your home.

Once home you warm up your ramen you turn on the news. You hear the the Fake AH crew has struck again and as you go to see what their newest crime was you notice something peculiar, one of the members has neon purple and orange hair. You don’t notice the microwave beeping as you stare in awe at the man who had bumped into you earlier. When the news changes topics you grab your ramen and eat it while your head is somewhere else. You barely fall asleep.

The next morning you tiredly made your way to work. It was nothing glamorous, just a job at a gas station. You were restocking the soda in the back when you heard the bell ring. You look up to see who came in when you see it again. The hair. He wasn’t alone and he seemed to be looking for something specific. When his eyes, well, sunglasses, locked on you his eyebrows shot up and he hurried over towards you. You immediately ducked your head and went back to stocking until you heard a smooth yet rough voice, “Excuse me, did I run into you last night or was that a dream?” He said as he leaned onto a rack that soon fell over bringing him down too.

You heard chuckles from the front of the store and saw his friends trying to hide behind a rack. You giggled and offered him a hand to help him up, he took it and kissed the back of your hand causing a heated blush to spread to your face. “I’m (Y/N).” “Jeremy.” You peeked back at his friends and giggles, “Are they here for moral support?” His cheeks became tomato red. “Well, if you were gonna ask a pretty girl out wouldn’t you want some support.” You chuckled and went back to stocking the shop. “I didn’t think a notorious crew member would need help with something like that.” His mouth dropped to the floor. “Y-you..” He fumbled with his words until you cut him off. “I watch the news, that hair is kind of hard to forget.” He laughed and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again.

“So (Y/N), can a nervous crew member take you out sometime?” You blushed again. “I don’t see why not.” His face lit up even though he tried to hide it. “Swee- I mean, alright, cool. I’ll uh, be in touch.” He made his way out of the store and you pretended you didn’t see his little victory dance. As you went back to stocking you wondered how he’d get ahold of you seeing that he didn’t have your number

#rt reader insert #FAHC #jeremy dooley x reader

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aplaceforrtprompts · 7 years ago

Note

Hi it's a pleasure to meet you I was wondering if I could get an ask where the reader is fahc Jeremy girlfriend and is like family to the rest of the group and she gets attacked when out on the streets and limps back to the penthouse with clothes ripped and she's crying and bleeding and the crew gets revenge plz thank you

Word Count: 1,179

Warnings: Slight mentions of blood, and alluding to sexual assault

You sucked in a deep breath trying to steady your breath and prevent the tears from flowing. You knew if your boyfriend caught you like this he’d surely go out on a hunt for the head of whoever hurt you.

You tried not to make it known you were dating one of the infamous Fake AH Crew members but Jeremy was so proud of you, especially when he was drunk.

You were pretty strong considering you were one of the head writers for the biggest paper in Los Santos. Admittedly you had first slept with Jeremy trying to get an inside scoop on the Fakes. You fell for him though and when he let some important information slip you came clean. Jeremy had wanted to be mad but he was just as in love with you as you were with him.

From then he and the rest of the crew gave you just enough info to keep your cover and job and in return, you gave them any heads up of anyone else getting to close to any plans or them.

As time went on the other crews picked up on who you were and who you were or at least who you were dating. Hence, when you were walking back to the penthouse alone one of the crews grabbed you and pulled you into an alley. They had tried to shove you into a van and use you as bait but luckily the few moves the guys had taught you and your taser had come in handy.

You didn’t come out of it easily though. You were pretty sure you had a concussion from when they slammed you into a brick wall. You had a black eye already forming. A few cuts and bruises were scattered about.

As you stepped into the elevator that had finally arrived, you once again tugged the shorts up that had been ruined when one of the thugs had to try to take advantage of the situation.

Another shaky breath and that was enough for you to start bawling. You felt dirty and tired and sore. Your back hit the corner of the elevator and you slid down the wall as you curled yourself into a ball.

The elevator doors dinged as they closed but the lift remained stationary since you hadn’t hit any buttons. You sat there sobbing until your phone rang. It made you jump and as you slid your phone out you noticed the missed texts from your boyfriend and the cracked screen that must have happened in the scuffle.

You took a few deep breaths before answering, “Hey, baby.”

Jeremy could instantly sense something was off but he also knew you wouldn’t tell him so he played along, “Heeeyyy. Are you almost home? I was starting to get worried.”

You laughed softly though it came off more sarcastic sounding than you would have liked, “Oh, yeah. You know me. Got caught up at work. I’m like, five, ten minutes tops.”

You hoped he didn’t hear your voice crack. He did.

“Don’t make me wait too long. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen your beautiful face,” you could hear the smile on his face although you couldn’t see the worry etched in around it.

You lifted a hand and winced as you poked at your black eye. You’d have to stop by Andy to get stitched up than Lindsay to borrow some makeup since you shared your bathroom with Jeremy.

You felt the pit in your stomach form before you even started the lie, “You know what I think I see some traffic. Maybe make it twenty but I can’t wait to curl up with you and sleep for like a year.”

“Rough day?” Jeremy asked softly.

You sucked in another deep breath and whispered so you wouldn’t cry again, “You don’t even know.

“I’ll have the whiskey waiting for when you get home and the bed warmed up. I’ll let you go so you can get home safely,” Jeremy told you. “I love you.”

Your eyes started to water again, “I love you, too.”

Jeremy went straight into action. He wasn’t sure what was wrong but he wanted to be prepared for anything. He started ordering food from your favorite place if it was as simple as a long day but he also started heading towards Andy’s room in case you needed medical treatment.

You finally stood back up after what felt like forever and hit the up button. Jeremy instantly perked up as he heard the chime of the elevator. You were hoping he’d be busy in your room and you could sneak into Andy’s room so you froze, heart jumping into your throat as the doors opened and your boyfriend stood there with a big smile and welcoming arms.

You felt the tears well up again as Jeremy’s smile fell. He came rushing over to you as he called for Andy.

You collapsed into his arms. He picked you up whispering reassuring words. As he carried you off to the room the crew had set up for medical care. Andy went straight to work through the second it came to your ripped shorts you could see Jeremy’s blood boil. He remained calm for you but as Andy began to stitch up one of your larger cuts Jeremy told you he’d be right back.

He saw the look on your face and he smiled softly and kissed your forehead, “I just have to pick up the food I ordered. I ordered your favorite.”

You would have normally been suspicious but you were too out of it and tired to think anything of it, that was until you heard more voices and the sound of the elevator. You tried to move off the table but Andy gently held you down. You gave him a look and he mumbled a few apologies and something about cleaning up your wounds.

It took awhile to finish and Jeremy should have been back at this point. It almost made you laugh when a delivery guy showed up. You took the food though you weren’t very hungry.

You took it back to your room and nibbled at it. You turned on the news to see any reports of the crew. There was nothing that stood out to you though. No gang wars, no reports of fights breaking out but then again that was small time news in Los Santos.

After a while, you could barely keep your eyes open and you passed out.

You woke up as you felt weight shifting onto the bed. You jumped as you felt arms wrap around you.

“Shh. Shh. Shh. It’s me. You’re okay,” Jeremy hushed you and pulled you closer.

He was damp and smelled cleaned like he had just showered. As you looked up at him you could see a cut across his nose and you knew if you looked at his knuckles they’d be bruised.

You sighed softly and he just gave you the soft smile as he told you, “You’re safe now.”

#jeremy dooley x reader #jeremy dooley imagine #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 #JeremyD #reaperfeels

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5lbsofsmarties · 6 years ago

Note

Congrats on the 450! Here’s to 500 and beyond, because you deserve it! May I request #4 (“I love you!” - “I love me too; good decision!”) with Jeremy please? Thank you!

Word Count: 454

Being asked into the Achievement Hunter office to record a few videos with them was always quite the experience and you never truly knew what to expect from it. This time you had managed to be roped into playing a few rounds of GMOD Trouble in Terrorist Town with them and had been having quite a good time with it.

“Okay, last round,” Geoff said as a new round started.

You checked the bottom corner of your screen to see the word Traitor written in the bright red bubble looking back at you. Biting back a grin, you hurried your character through the map to try and find a target. However, several of the guys had itchy trigger fingers and despite actually killing Geoff, it had somehow come down to just you, Jeremy, and Michael being the only ones who were still alive.

“Lil J, take ‘em down,” Michael laugh rang in your headphones.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “Fuck you, Michael. You killed Ryan and Trevor, it’s definitely you.”

“You killed Geoff in cold blood!”

“He backed me into a room and was aiming a gun at me!”

In the midst of your little tift with Michael, you spotted Jeremy’s character coming around the corner and he immediately aimed his gun at you. “I don’t wanna do it, Y/N,” he said, slowly edging closer to you. You made a very offended noise and attempted to walk backwards away from Jeremy but only backed up into a corner.

“Then don’t! Go kill Michael! He killed Trevor as soon as the round started!” you argued, quickly opening up your secret traitor menu.

Michael let out a slight laugh, “In my defense, Treycs shot me to shit last round for no reason so it was just a revenge kill.”

Suddenly, Michael’s character came barreling into the room and you closed your menu to point your gun at him. Almost instantly the audio degraded into the three of your screaming at one another in an attempt to prove your own innocence while those who were already dead tried to stifle their laughter.

“Jeremy, I love you!” you shouted.

Jeremy made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, “I love me too; good decision!”

Without another word, you heard a gunshot and your screen went black before proclaiming your lose and the victory of the innocents. Everyone else in the room let out a shout of joy and you just huffed loudly and folded your arms over your chest as you glared up at the webcam pointed down at you.

“Jeremy, you’re celebrating the fact that Michael shot your girlfriend between the eyes,” Jack laughed loudly.

“Yeah well, she was a traitor,” Jeremy shrugged.

#request fill #450fff #jeremy dooley x reader #jeremy d x reader #jeremy dooley imagine #jeremy d imagine #rt reader insert #rt imagine #jeremy dooley fan fiction #jeremy dooley fanfiction #rooster teeth reader insert #rooster teeth imagine #rooster teeth fan fiction #ah reader insert #ah imagine #rtri #ragehappy #Anonymous #this is an answer

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bellshellsrage · 7 years ago

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Blame

Author’s Note: This is some heavy shit, so if you aren’t ready for that, I don’t suggest you read it.

Warning: Miscarriage

Pairing: Jeremy Dooley x reader

Prompt: “I lost the baby.”

Jeremy was practically vibrating in his seat as he glanced at the time for the hundredth time that day. Work was dragging on and they still had to do the podcast, and all he wanted to do was rush home to be with you.

A smile spread across his face as he thought about you and the baby. In four short months, he would be a full- fledged dad. The thought both excited and terrified him and he glanced at the clock again.

“Dude, how many Red Bulls did you have today?” Michael joked as he turned.

Jeremy blinked. “None. I just want to get home.”

Ryan stood and stretched. “It’s podcast time, boys.” Michael nodded and turned off his computer. Jeremy and Gavin followed suit, and Jeremy gathered his things so that he could leave right after the after-show was finished.

They all sat down on set and conversation flowed easily until Michael nodded at Jeremy. “He’s going to join the dad group soon, though!”

Jeremy nodded, a small smile creeping across his face. “I am. A few more months and Baby Dooley is gonna-” he was cut off by his phone ringing. He used to turn the sound off, but now with a pregnant wife at home, he always had it on. “Hello?” His voice was light as he answered it in the set.

“Jeremy, something’s wrong.” Your voice was tight.

Standing quickly, Jeremy locked eyes with Ryan. “What- what do you mean?”

“Jeremy… I think I lost the baby. I can’t feel it anymore and it hurts so much.”

Biting his lip to stop it from shaking, Jeremy backed away from the table. “I’m on my way. Stay calm, I love you.” Michael and Ryan had both stood while Gavin froze. “I...I have to go.”

“I’ll drive you.” Ryan offered, leaving the set with Jeremy, who was in a daze. It didn’t register what was going on until they were in the car.

“Oh god.” Jeremy sobbed. “If we lose the baby-”

Ryan reached over and clamped his hand on his friend’s shoulder to steady him. “Hey, you need to be strong right now. I know that you’re terrified and I get that, but if she sees you like this then she’ll be a mess. “

“Ryan… I can’t do this.” Jeremy cried.

The taller man clenched his jaw and glanced over at the broken man. “Alright. It’ll be alright.” When they got to the house, Ryan ran in and carried you out, carefully placing you in the backseat before taking off to the hospital.

“Jeremy?” You questioned. Your husband hadn’t moved since you had been brought to the car, his head hung low. You could see that his eyes and face were red but he refused to look at you. “Jeremy… I need you right now. I’m so scared.” You whispered. Your heart broke when he flinched and turned his head away from you.

Ryan got to the hospital in record time, and he carried you in, with Jeremy following behind. “I need help! She- She might have had a miscarriage.” He told the nurses and doctors.

“Are you her husband?” They questioned.

He shook his head, reaching behind him to grab Jeremy’s arm and pull him forward. “No. He is.” The doctor nodded and addressed Jeremy as they took you away. Ryan tried to follow, but was stopped.

After an examination and an ultrasound, the doctor returned with a solemn look on his face. “I am so sorry. It seems like you did indeed lose the baby.”

Jeremy flinched and put his face in his hands. You clenched your jaw. “What was it?”

“Excuse me?”

You took a deep breath. “We didn’t want to know what the gender was. Now I do. What was it?”

The doctor looked at the chart, then closed it. “You were having a-” Jeremy stood and walked out, interrupting the doctor. You nodded for him to continue. “It was a boy.” The doctor muttered and left, his head down.

Jeremy came back in and sat down, not having said a word to you since you had hung up the phone. “Jeremy… please talk to me. I’m sorry I lost the baby. But if you’re mad at me please just say it.”

“I should have been there.” His voice was ragged. “I should have been by your side. I should have carried you in. I should have stood by your side like I said I would when we got married.” He finally looked at you. “I failed you, and I know that you can never forgive me for not being there when you lost our child.”

You held back your tears. “Our son.” You whispered, making Jeremy gasp. “And I don’t blame you. I don’t blame anyone. It happens all the time. It sucks and it hurts and I wish to hell that it hadn’t happened to us, but it did.” You took a breath. “I love you, and I’m sorry that our son died today.”

Jeremy stood and wrapped his arms carefully around you, his body shaking with yours as you cried together.

tagging @fics4you because she likes pain...

#my fics #achievement hunter x reader #jeremy dooley x reader

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magical-rt-writing-blog · 7 years ago

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Uno

Pairing: Jeremy Dooley x Reader

Word Count: 479

Warnings: Cursing

Everyone but you Geoff, Jeremy, Gavin and yourself had left the achievement hunter office. Unfortunately a game of Uno had broken out and no one was even close to winning.

At first it was funny, making people pick up eight cards, listening to the bird noises Gavin made when he got fucked over by someone else.

You had been the closest to winning and were fairly confident that you could end it if you won this next hand. "Can someone just end this already?" Geoff groaned from his desk. "I'm working on it Geoff" you said having been down to just two cards left.

Then Gavin switched with you causing you to have his absolute monstrosity of a hand. "Motherfucker" you groaned looking through all the cards he had and now had given to you.

Jeremy giggling next to you. "It's not funny Jeremy, ya know the cats probably think we're dead by now" you sighed reaching for some of the chips on your desk as your stomach started to rumble.

"We haven't been gone that long" he said chuckling as switching cards with Geoff as you worked to get rid of some of the cards you had.

"We've been playing this for like 3 years, just because someone had to set it to five hundred" you sent Gavin a playful glare. "We've gotta keep it interesting!" He argued back at you. "This is the least interesting video I think we're ever gonna put out" you said sarcastically laughing.

After another thirty minutes but felt like an eternity, you were down to one card calling Uno and hoping no one would change it from green.

All you could think about was going home making something to eat, and snuggling up in bed. You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn't even realize when it happened.

“I’m not cuddling with you for a week…not after you made me draw six" you said looking at Jeremy trying to keep a straight face. "Hey someone's gotta win this thing and it's gonna be me" he said back to you playfully. You just rolled your eyes and continued to play.

Eventually you leaned over and rested your head in Jeremy's shoulder. "You better not be cheating (Y/n)!" He scolded you. Sighing you went to sit back up. "I was just joking here" he said sliding his chair slightly more towards yours so you could get comfortable again.

"Finally that's over" you said yawning as you turned your Xbox off. "C'mon it wasn't THAT bad" Jeremy countered slipping his jacket on. You just turned to him and gave him a 'you've gotta be kidding me' look. Causing him to laugh.

"Can we just agree to not play UNO for a year please?" You asked slipping your hand into his as you walked out of the office. "Nothing would make me happier."

#achievement hunter imagine #jeremy dooley x reader #jeremy dooley imagine #ah imagine #ah reader insert #achievement hunter reader insert

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chezzkaa · 7 years ago

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Of Course I Know

Pairing: FAHC Jeremy x Reader Day 12 of Fics Advent Calendar 2017. Read the others here

Summary: Jeremy really doesn’t think Rimmy is a secret...right?

WC: 523

I'm glaring, the woman shrinking away from my rage. The night bites, but no way near as hard as my venom, the rain attempting to wash away the pain littering the streets. She takes a cautious step forward and I stop her with a snarl. “You've gone too far this time.”

She pulls a face, throwing a gesture to Jeremy shuffling his feet behind me. “I did this for you, Y/N. You needed to know that he’s lying to you.”

Jeremy flinches, looking to me in shame. I don’t spare him a glance, too enraptured in the woman. “This is my life, and I don't need you in it, Steph. You can't help it, can you? You were always poking through my shit, didn’t trust me. Try fixing your own damn problems rather than creating more of mine.”

She doesn’t listen, taking another step forward as my hands ball into fists. “Aren’t you hearing me?” she wails, and I can’t tell if her makeup is running because of the tears or rain. “You're running around with Rimmy Tim. The only this worse that this fucking psychopath is the Vagabond!” My face hardens, seeing right through her supposed concern. “Come home, well sort it out and call the police. I still love you, Y/N. We can still fix this.”

“First of all, Ryan's fucking lovely. Second, of course I know he’s Rimmy Tim; he’s not lying or hiding it. Nothing, not his murderous tendencies or your grovelling, is going to change the fact that you’re a manipulative bitch. You’re abusive, and don’t deserve me.” I spit the final words at her feet, turning to an astounded Jeremy and grabbing his hand in finality.

He looks nervous in the face of my anger, but stumbles along without complaint as we duck and weave between the buildings. Spotting shelter he redirects us, street light spluttering above.

“You know?” His voice is pained and loaded with guilt as he anxiously rubs the nape of his neck.

I smile, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go and stepping into his confused arms. “Oh course I know. I’m not stupid.”

“But how?”

“Everything you own is either purple or orange. It’s a dead giveaway.”

I laugh into his relief, hugging him close. His arms tighten, his eyes closing as he savours my company. I can feel his breath against my neck, warm as it whispers through my hair. “My god, I fucking love you.”

Then searing pain hits, exploding through my back and blooming across my chest. I jerk away to look down in confusion, the tip of a blade jutting from between my breasts.

I try to speak, words just gurgling bubbles as I collapse into Jeremy’s arms with a croak. He’s panicking, hands clumsily tearing away my shirt and applying pressure, desperate to stem the bleeding.

Through the fog I can barely see her behind me, struggle to make out the wicked smile and hand covered in bloody splatters. She’s backing away, shrieking into the phone receiver as my body goes cold. “Oh god, someone come quickly! Rimmy Tim just stabbed and killed my girlfriend, please!”

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rt-reader-inserts · 7 years ago

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Wounds

Pairing: Ryan Haywood x Reader x Jeremy Dooley

Word Count: 5,338

Prompt: We all know Los Santos’ most feared assassins, but what if you were their target? And the first words out of their mouths were the same words imprinted on your skin?

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of torture.

Breathe, for fuck’s sake, just breathe, you told yourself, keeping your head down as you walked towards your usual lunch spot. Your lips were stuck in a grimace, trying to keep the tears from spilling over, and you couldn’t keep from internally cursing at yourself. Way to go, (y/n), not even fucking noon and you’re already spiraling, god dammit.

Between your alarm not going off, your boss berating you for your recent work performance, and the empty threats your ex continued to text you from different numbers, it seemed like nothing was in your favor. So, with the whole universe against you, you resorted to blocking it out; pulling your phone out of your pocket, you turned up the music in your earbuds so you couldn’t hear the tourists that swarmed the sidewalks, or the drivers shouting obscenities as they blared their horns.

You just needed a break, needed something to go well. The playlist you were listening to helped slightly, and you knew once you had some food in your system you’d feel better, but you were honestly feeling pretty hopeless. Getting through work would be hard enough, and the idea of going home to your roommate and their boyfriend made you sick. With a sigh, you turned down the alley you always cut through, the usual lack of other people comforting.

Though it was a faster route, your bigger reason for using the shortcut was the excuse to get away from the crowds that plagued Los Santos. Living in a city where you’re constantly surrounded by people grew tiring, and you could only relax when you felt alone. If that was in a dirty alley, so be it.

Your pace slowed as you continued, and with no one around, the tears began to spill over. Fucking hell, just, take a breath, you urged the tears to stop, trying to maintain composure. You’ll get something to eat, then you’ll get through five hours of works, and you’ll be—

You were dragged out of your thoughts and back into reality by the gloved hand that suddenly covered your mouth, pulling you back against a solid figure. Music was still blaring in your ears, and you weren’t even able to fully process what was happening before it was too late to do anything. It wasn’t until a needle sunk into the flesh of your bicep that you began to scream, fighting to escape your attacker’s grip.

Wrapping an arm around your torso so tight you could hardly breathe, he quickly contained your movements. “Shh, there’s no point, no one’s listening,” a voice rumbled in your ear, and even as your mind started to fog, you immediately recognized those words. They rendered you immobile, the same words that tingled on your skin, scrawled across your hip.

Fuck.

“There we go,” he murmured, tossing the syringe to the ground before his arm moved to wrap around your throat, “wasn’t that easy?” With both the drug in your system and your restricted airflow working against you, you could barely struggle, weakly pulling at the arm around your throat. If you could just say something, he would know, he would hopefully stop, but all that escaped your lips were choked cries.

When your efforts had died down, and you grew limp in his arms, he easily tossed you over his shoulder. Everything was foggy, you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could barely even think. You just watched the ground move below you as the man walked, unable to focus your vision on anything.

“J, pop the trunk,” the man called, and you winced at the sound of his hand hitting the car. Within seconds, you were dropped into the trunk, your head hitting hard, and you barely caught a glimpse of a skull mask before the lid was slammed down.

In the the darkness, with your mind in a haze, you couldn't even tell when the world faded to nothing.

When you awoke, you found yourself in an empty warehouse, only lit by the few barely functioning lights that hung above you. Your head was pounding, the pain dizzying, and the gag in your mouth only made the nausea worse.

Your limbs were tied to a rusted chair, the coarse rope cutting into your skin as you pulled at your restraints. Behind you, you could hear noises, the sounds of metal hitting metal ringing through the warehouse, and you only struggled harder, eyes watering as fear sent your heart racing.

“Well Ry, I think she’s awake,” an unfamiliar voice murmured, and you felt a sting along the skin of your thigh, the words imprinted on your flesh almost burning.

“Shall we begin?” the voice from before asked, and you felt a hand brush your shoulder as he walked in front of you, sending a shiver through your frame. Finally getting a look at his face, you found your eyes drawn to the smudged facepaint that covered his skin, making his smile all the more menacing.

You struggled to speak, to say anything at all, but the cloth in your mouth muffled every sound. Your attempted words turned to shrieks, the jagged dagger in his hand finally catching your eye; and when a man in purple walked into your sight, crowbar in his gloved hands, tears began to spill over.

You couldn’t believe, out of all the possible people ways to meet a soulmate, this would be it. They were fucking terrifying, had your heart racing and tears streaming down your face, your whole body trembling. You knew that what they had in store for you would break you, probably kill you; but there was still that instinctive longing for them, for your soulmates, and you cursed yourself for it.

“Listen,” the man in purple spoke, swinging the crowbar around as he watched you, “Before we get started, I want you to know this is purely business. An old pal of yours paid good money for our services, some guy named… Damon?” he glanced over at his partner for confirmation.

“I believe it was Devon.”

Your heart sunk at the mention of your ex and you began screaming muffled pleas, much to the amusement of the two men. They both shared a glance before the shorter one moved forward, dragging his crowbar against the concrete as he sauntered around you. “Y’know, this Devon had some very specific instructions, I mean, really, what do ya gotta do to a guy to make him that angry?”

After making a full circle around you, he raised his crowbar in with a smile, and then a crack echoed through the warehouse as it made impact with your shin. You were seeing stars as the pain hit, your shrieks of pain muted by the cloth that swallowed the sound, and they both laughed.

“Ooh, that looked nasty, Jeremy,” the taller man commented, a smirk on his lips as he watched you twist and writhe in pain. You pulled even harder at the rope restraining your limbs, crying out as your struggles only caused you further pain. “Sweetheart…,” he chastised you, moving closer, dagger glinting in the dim light, “you really don’t wanna do that.”

Then, he was on top of you, legs straddling your thighs as he held the blade against your cheek. Instinctively, you pulled your face away from the jagged edge, but then a calloused hand gripped your chin, jerking your head to face him. His ice blue eyes were daring you to move again, and you didn’t, small whimpers escaping your throat as he traced the dagger along your jawline.

“Such a pretty face…,” he murmured, his hand holding your jaw still as he dragged the dagger down to your collarbone, still not breaking skin. “It’s a real shame he wants us to carve you up… but a job’s a job, and playing butcher is always fun.” He bared his teeth with a smile as he pushed the blade a little deeper, and your blood began to seep over the jagged edge.

“Aw, Ryan, come on,” the man behind him spoke over your sobs, “save some of the fun for me.”

He stood from your lap, gesturing to your pathetic form as he replied, “Give ‘em your worst, Dooley.”

The other man threw his crowbar to the side with a grin, cracking his knuckles as he walked towards you ever so casually. “I work better with my hands anyways,” he commented, quickly landing a blow to the side of your face. The punch knocked your head around, and you were seeing stars as you tried to get past the ringing in your ears. There were words thrown your way, but they all felt distant, muffled, and the world was spinning around you as your eyes glazed over.

With a few taps against your cheek, the man calmly said, “Hey, stay with me. We’re not done with you yet.” However, when you didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t try to speak any muffled words, he kicked your broken shin with a growl, causing you to shriek and writhe in pain. “You can’t escape this,” he murmured, his hand on the back of your chair, leaning it back as he loomed over you. “This is it, end of the line.”

He suddenly landed a punch to your stomach, shoving the chair to the ground, and you let out a groan. Every sensation coursing through you was overwhelming, all the pain, the shock, the fear. Everything hurt, and yet, even as your head lay against the cold, dirty concrete, and you stared up into the dingy light, you still struggled to escape. Even with your mind unable to process anything that was happening, your most basic instinct was fighting. If you could just say something, you’d get through this alive, and that was enough of a chance to keep you struggling.

“Now, I’m not sure, but I think (y/n) is trying to tell us something,” Ryan remarked as you continued to shriek, muffled pleas bleeding into sobs that shook your whole frame. “I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked with a kick to your ribs, causing your plead to grow even louder. “You’ve really gotta speak up.”

He gripped your throat, pulling both you and the brittle chair up to his height. With a quick slash, his dagger cut through the cloth gag, tossing it to the ground below. Chest heaving, you gasped for breath, arms tugging at the restraints as you tried to reach the hand wrapped around your neck.

You struggled to talk, barely formed consonants escaping your lips, but nothing that came even close to speech. “Here, let me help you,” the man seemed to mock you, setting you back down on the concrete floor. However, when you opened your mouth again, his blue eyes stared daggers, choking every word within you.

“So shy now?” Jeremy asked, and the two of them shared a glance, amused grin pulling at the corners of their mouths.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we can change that.”

He grabbed your jaw and yanked your head upwards, stretching your tendons and exposing the skin of your neck to his blade. You trembled as the cool, wet metal dragged across your skin, stifled sobs trapped in your throat. He traced the jagged edge slowly, ever so slowly over your skin, and then your clothing as it passed your shoulder. In an instant, the blade pushed through your shirt to your bicep, barely breaking skin, but he drove it deeper and deeper at a crawling pace.

This drew broken screams from your lips, and when he shifted the blade slightly in your flesh, your vision began to spin, the contents of your stomach working their way up your throat. Despite your best efforts to swallow it back, your mouth had gone dry, the bile pushing its way up and dribbling down your chin.

“Ooh, yikes,” Jeremy commented from behind you, watching with amusement as you still struggled against the ropes. “I don’t know, Ryan… maybe we should just put her out of her misery.”

There was a pause before the two laughed, and Ryan yanked the dagger from your flesh, ripping a ragged sob from your lungs with it. Pushing through the excruciating pain that coursed through every nerve in your body, and the fear that paralyzed your mind, you cried out, “Please, don’t do this, I— I can’t, please.”

They stopped dead in their tracks, the blood-soaked knife slipping from Ryan’s fingers, and the metallic clatter echoed through the warehouse as it hit the ground. It was silent as they stared at you, their eyes wide and calculating as they processed everything. It didn’t take long for them to snap back into action though, Ryan picking up the dagger and rushing to cut the rope that restrained you. Meanwhile, Jeremy had pulled out his phone, restlessly murmuring, “Come on, pick up… pick up.”

Muttering under his breath, Ryan violently slashed at the rope around your ankles, but even in anger he was precise. Not once did his blade hit you again. When he moved to the rope tying your wrists to the chair, he cut through the worn cord with ease, ready to catch you the moment you fell forward. Your vision was still spinning, sounds fading in and out as you blinked, trying to get a grasp on what was happening.

“Andy, we need you at the warehouse, like,right now… shattered shin, stab wound— no, no arteries were hit… I know, I know… listen, I don’t give a shit what the chances are, you need to get down here right the fuck now,” Jeremy glanced over at you, a shaky breath leaving him as he did. “We can’t lose this one.”

With that, he pocketed his phone, stripping off his purple jacket as he moved to your side. “Hey…” you saw his lips continue to move, but the words faded into background noise. With the world spinning and fading around you, there was no way you could focus, no possible way you could process anything that was happening; and you would have tumbled to the ground if not for the two men holding you.

“Hey, stay with us,” Ryan spoke firmly, cupping your cheek as Jeremy pressed his jacket against your wound. You locked your gaze on his blue eyes, the rest of the world blurring as you tried to maintain any focus; then, it all faded to darkness, and you felt nothing.

When your eyes blinked open, the first thing you noticed was how warm the room was. Not only in heat, but the colors, the light, it was all much softer than everything you had just been through. There was no more pain coursing through your system, only a numbness, almost a floating sensation. Glancing around, you saw what, aside from the medical equipment, appeared to be a normal bedroom; and in the chairs beside your bed sat a woman with red hair and a man in a full tuxedo, the two conversing quietly.

The woman glanced up, meeting your eyes before glancing back to the man. He cleared his throat, rubbing his hands down his face with a sigh before looking at you. “Hey kid, how you holdin’ up?” he asked softly, and in your haze, it was difficult to process his question, let alone respond. He gave you a sympathetic look, his eyes tired, and then continued, “Before we start talking, I want you to know that you are 100% safe here. No wrong answers, no danger… nothin’ is gonna hurt you, alright?”

You nodded, barely able to move, and the two exchanged a glance before the redhead began to speak. “First, I just want to tell you how sorry I am for all of this, this lifestyle, it’s— it’s incredibly dangerous, and the fact that fate dragged you into all this, it… sucks. I don’t know how else to put it.”

Though your mind was hazy, you were beginning to piece things together; their vaguely familiar faces, the way the spoke, along with the memories you were already trying to repress, they all pointed towards one thing: the Fake AH Crew. You could faintly recall various newscasts, wanted posters, and you most definitely remembered seeing their faces multiple times.

Your heart began to race again, but the increasingly frantic beep of your heart monitor didn’t seem to faze them, they simply sat there, slowly raising their hands to prove they weren’t armed. “I might be Los Santos’ most wanted,” the man started, making sure to meet your eyes, “but a promise is a promise, and as long as I’m here, no one’s gonna lay a finger on you.”

You glanced at the woman, whose eyes were warm and sincere, then back to the man, who gave you a small smile. Letting out the breath you’d been holding, your muscles untensed. Though your heart was still pounding, the beeps began to slow, and they brought their arms back down. “The way Geoff and I see it, there’s two ways we can go here,” the redhead continued, “and we want to run you through every option before you decide what you want. You with us so far?”

You nodded slightly, afraid to move anymore than that in case it aggravated one of wounds that littered your body, and she gave you a soft smile. “If we end up going too fast, just let us know, okay?”

“As I think Jack mentioned, this all depends on what you want. Our resources are virtually unlimited, and we just want what’s best for you, so don’t feel pressure towards any particular choice.” Geoff told you, his voice taking on a slightly more professional tone. “The first option we could see is taking you to Mount Zonah Medical Center to continue your treatment. Their doctors may not be as well trained as our personal medic, but they’re the best in the city, and we’d pay for top treatment.”

“We’ve found a nice apartment for you to go to once you’re ready to return home, in a much safer neighborhood than your current place,” Jack continued as Geoff pulled out his ringing phone. “We’d cover the rent, so don’t worry about that, and we’ll make sure that no one comes after you again.”

Geoff whispered something to her before standing to his feet, shooting an apologetic glance you way before he left the room. Jack gave you a reassuring smile in response before picking up where she’d left off. “You should also know that the man who’s been threatening you, Devon,” you shuddered, and she carefully reached out to place a hand on your arm. “He’s been taken care of, and he will never hurt you again.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath, and she patted your arm a few times before pulling back. “The other option assumes that you would still want to be with your soulmates.” She paused, seeing how you visibly tensed. “Do you want me to go on? Because it’s completely understandable if you don’t want anything to do with them after what you’ve been through.”

You shook your head quickly, your voice quiet as you replied, “Tell me.”

“Right now, we’re in the penthouse, Geoff’s expansive ‘apartment.’ This is where the entire crew stays,” she gave you a sympathetic smile before continuing, “and that includes Ryan and Jeremy.”

Hearing those names brought you back to the warehouse, the names your torturers had spoken once or twice as they put you through hell. The pain throughout your body sharpened in response to the memories, your heart racing at the thoughts; but as you continued to lose yourself in memory, you were brought back to their first words, the words scrawled across your skin. With a shaky breath, you asked, “They’re… they’re my soulmates, right?”

She nodded, noting how your heart rate sped up. “You could stay here, with us, and not only would you have the best medical care, but you’d be safer here than anywhere else… It’s perfectly understandable if you can’t see yourself doing that, and either way, we’ll pay for all your treatment, physical and psychiatric.”

Your brows furrowed as you struggled to process all the information that’d been thrown your way, and Jack noticed, adding, “There’s no rush, we just wanted you to know your options, you have plenty of time to think it over.”

You nodded again, and when she stood to leave, you called out, “Wait!” Your voice cracked slightly, and it pained your throat, torn from overuse. “Can I—” you stopped, taking a breath before you continued, “Can I see them? Jeremy and— and Ryan?”

She paused, biting her lip in concentration as she weighed the situation. “Are you sure? Because you don’t have to do this right now. It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

Your brows furrowed, heart pounding as you continued to think about seeing your torturers again, but you just couldn’t quell the longing to be with them. “Is this what having a soulmate is like?” you asked quietly, voice shaking with all the conflicting emotions that filled your head. “They— they—” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, couldn’t quite acknowledge what they’d done, what you’d been through, “…why do I still want to see them?”

She gave you a sad smile, moving to sit at the edge of your bed. “People tend to romanticize soulmarks as this ‘perfect’ thing; and believe me, while I love my soulmates, the concept is nowhere close to flawless. The whole system is messy, broken, and I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now… but, yes, to answer your question, this is what having a soulmate is like. No matter what someone does, you still want to be with them,” a sigh escaped her, voice trailing off as she added, “more than anything.”

She met your gaze with understanding eyes, another smile pulling at her lips. “So, should I go get Ryan and Jeremy?”

Your voice was small, heart pounding in your chest as you answered, “Please.”

“Hey, I’ll be there the whole time,” she assured you, patting your uninjured leg. “The moment you feel unsafe, you let me know, and I will kindly escort them out.”

With that, she stood and walked out, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts.

The silence of the room was only broken by the pulsing beep of your heart monitor, and it was so quiet, you could hear the murmurs beyond the bedroom door. Trying your best to stay calm, you took a deep breath, fists clenched at your sides. You couldn’t even tell what you were feeling anymore, every emotion, every thought blurring together as they clashed. All you knew was you were the furthest from calm you could get.

After a few moments more, the door opened slowly, pulling your mind out of its haze. With a glance to your left, you saw Jack walk in, the same comforting smile on her face, and you tried your best to smile back. Then, you saw your soulmates, both walking in with shoulders slouched and soft smiles on their lips when they saw you, smiles that didn’t quite reach their heavy eyes.

You could feel your heart skip erratically, didn’t need the monitor to tell you just how fast your pulse was racing. Of course, it did help that they were wearing different clothes, that the man with piercing blue eyes no longer had smudged paint obscuring the majority of his face; but you were still struggling with the memories that threatened to pull you back, to keep you trapped in that warehouse with jagged blades and maniacal grins.

At the sound of your heart monitor stuttering and racing, all three sets of eyes went wide, and Jack moved forward as the other two pressed themselves against the wall, almost shrinking into the background. “Hey,” Jack spoke quietly, leaning down beside your bed and placing a hand on your shoulder, “(y/n), it’s okay, they’re not gonna hurt you. You’re okay, I promise.”

She watched your face, noting every small reaction, and when your breathing began to slow, she continued, “I want you to look at them, alright?” You nodded hesitantly, looking over to them again, and the first thing you noticed was their hands, intertwined, then the way they glanced at each other worriedly before looking back at you, their eyes soft, almost pleading. “These are not the same men who hurt you. Ryan and Jeremy, they want nothing more than to keep you safe.”

As you looked at them, truly looked at your soulmates, you could feel their hearts breaking, and you wanted more than anything to keep them from hurting anymore. It really started to hit you, these were your soulmates. They were here, with you, looking at you with nothing but love and sorrow in their eyes… it was enough to bring you to tears.

Despite your slowing heart rate, you tears only caused the others to worry more, Ryan and Jeremy slowly moving to leave. “Hey, like I said, it’s okay if you’re not ready,” Jack gently spoke. “We don’t have to do this today, you can take your time—”

“No, no, please don’t take them away from me,” you cut her off, voice desperate and pleading. “Don’t take them away.”

They all looked at you with varying expressions of shock, but no one argued, Jack glancing at the other two before looking back to you. “Would you like me to step outside?” she asked softly, and to your own surprise, you found yourself nodding. “I’ll be right by the door, just shout if you need anything.”

With that, she gave you a warm smile, making her way out of the room.

You moved to sit up, wanting to go towards your soulmates, who still stood near the door. They seemed hesitant to approach you, afraid to make a single wrong move; but that all went away the second you winced and cried out, pain shooting through your arm as you put even the slightest weight on it.

“Hey, hey, don’t push yourself, alright?” Warm brown eyes met yours, and he gave you a soft smile, his hands gentle against your back as he eased you down onto the bed again.

“You’ve got some healing to do,” a deeper voice spoke, and you turned to meet the other’s blue eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze much softer than you remembered. “Just take it easy, we’ll take care of you.”

You smiled despite the dying tears that streaked down your face, and you received even brighter smiles from the two. “You— you’re Ryan?” you asked, still not quite sure, and the way his eyes brightened at the sound of your voice answered the question for you. “And Jeremy?”

“That’s me,” his voice was breathless, a small laugh escaping him. “and since we’re going around, you’re (y/n), right?”

The smile on his face put you at ease, along with the sound of your soulmate saying your name; and though his familiar laugh threatened to pull you back to the warehouse, you forced yourself to focus on his smile, on the kindness in his eyes. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t them, you found yourself thoughts repeating over and over again, only realizing you were speaking aloud when their faces fell.

You began to apologize, your eyes growing wide as you said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“(Y/n), no, you— you don’t anything to apologize for,” Ryan spoke softly, though there was an edge to his tone that sent a slight tremor through you. “Jeremy and I, we’re…” he took a deep breath, his fists clenched as he continued, “we’re the ones that did this.”

His eyes flickered first to the small gash along your collarbone, then over each wound and bandage, an unmistakable pain to his gaze. Hesitantly, you reached out to him, placing your hand over his and gently uncurling his fist. He looked down at your hand, brows furrowed as he carefully shifted his hand to grip yours, and then he met your gaze. “(Y/n), I…”

As he trailed off, you squeezed his hand, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I know,” you murmured, and just looking into those blue eyes began to drag your mind away, feeling a phantom knife pressed against your skin as that gaze never left yours. With a shuddering breath, you clenched his hand, closing your eyes for a moment. He brushed his thumb along the back of your hand, his skin warm, somehow soft despite the calluses, and you concentrated on that.

Someone who wanted to hurt you wouldn’t be so gentle, you tried to convince yourself, you’re safe.

As you thought it, the last two words were spoken aloud, and you opened your eyes to see Jeremy, a tear slipping down his cheek as he forced a smile. “We’ll keep you safe,” he assured you, his hand moving to brush your hair from your face, lingering for a moment. Just looking at you seemed to send both warmth and pain through him, his gaze so incredibly soft as tears continued to fall.

He hesitated for a moment, the smile fading from his lips as he decided to go through with his next thought, “I just wanted to say, I— I’m sorry, (y/n),” the hand in your hair moved to cup your cheek, and you found yourself both trembling and leaning into the touch. “We’re so, so sorry.” He glanced up at Ryan, their eyes meeting, and you couldn’t do anything but watch as they both tried to blink away tears. Jeremy’s words were barely a whisper as he tried to continue, “There’s noth— nothing—”

When his voice broke, Ryan reached across you, his fingers gentle against Jeremy’s skin as he brushed away his tears. “Nothing we could do to ever make it right,” Ryan continued for him, his voice soft as he moved to look at you with downcast eyes. “But, I promise, we’ll spend the rest of our lives trying.”

“We’re gonna do right by you,” Jeremy added, his voice wavering. “And no one is gonna hurt you ever again.”

In the back of your mind, a voice murmured, don’t make promises you can’t keep, but you shook the thought away, fighting to keep your mind from dragging you back. The longer they were with you, though, the closer those memories were pulled to the forefront of your mind, and your heart rate was climbing quickly.

“I— I’m sorry, can you… can you leave for a bit? I’m really sorry, I just, I can’t—” your voice broke, but they seemed to understand, both of them pulling away slowly.

“(Y/n), it’s alright, you don’t have to apologize or explain yourself,” Ryan assured you as he and Jeremy stood from the bed.

“We’re just… we’re glad you’re okay, and we’ll do whatever we can to keep it that way.”

“Thank you,” you murmured as they made their way out of the room, the words barely there as you were fighting against your own thoughts. The second you knew they were gone, the heart monitor’s beeping slowed significantly, and you took in a painful breath. Your entire body ached, and you couldn’t help but feel exhausted after the mental strain of struggling against your own memories.

“I’ve got some more painkillers,” Jack spoke as she walked in, glass of water in hand. “The last dose we gave you should be wearing off about now, and it’s way too early for you to be feeling everything.”

The small conversation you had with her as you took the meds honestly went by in a daze, and before you could process anything, the painkillers had you drifting off, something you were honestly grateful for. You could deal with your spiraling thoughts when you woke up, until then, you’d fade in and out of dreams, nightmares where Ryan and Jeremy fought to save you from themselves.

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tigerinthestars · 7 years ago

Text

What Can Go Wrong Part I

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 your life.

Pairing: FAHC!Jeremy x FAHC!Reader

Words: 1,510

Warnings: Language and violence.

A/N: This was supposed to be a nice, little one shot. Now it’s like 6k words long. I’m splitting it up to make it easier to read, the next part will be posted next week.

Changed my mind, Part II is already up! Part III will be up tomorrow.

Thank you to the lovely anon that gave me the motivation to finish this! Now to focus on that Ryan x Reader fic…

Y/C/N = Your Criminal Name (or nick name… whatever)

Read it on AO3!

Part II ~ Part III

Shit. That was the word of the day. What was supposed to be an easy touch and go deal became a shit show within minutes.

You were currently crouched behind an over turned desk in a dingy warehouse, the afternoon sun barely coming through the disgusting windows. A trusty pistol was griped tightly in your hands. The chaos around you was truly astounding. You, along with Jeremy and Ryan, were attempting to hold your ground against goons while Geoff and Michael retrieved important documents which highlighted your rival's, the Copirate, recent activities upstairs.

“The package is secure! I repeat, package is secure!” Geoff yelled through the comm unit in your ear, yet you barely heard him over the sound of gunfire and explosions.

“Thank Christ,” you heard both in your ear and from behind you where Jeremy was crouched, sharing your choice of cover, “What’s the ETA on evac?” Jeremy pushed his hat up an inch before peaking over the table to fire off a few rounds from his assault rifle.

“3 minutes,” responded Jack, her voice sounding through the comms and a layer of static.

“Make that 5,” a British accent spoke up, sounding strained, “Choppers dead. Getting a car.”

“What do you mean the choppers dead?” Ryan growled angrily from his spot behind a wall, "What the fuck did you do?"

"Don't yell at me, V, I'm handling it." Gavin's voice sounded out of breath which worried you more than your current predicament.

"You okay, GB?" You asked as you blindly sent a few bullets towards your attackers.

"I got it, found a car, heading your way now," Gavin spoke lowly, uncharacteristic of him.

"Copy your last." You said, unconvinced but there was nothing you could do about it now. You returned your attention to the dwindling number of men outside the warehouse. The poor light and smoky room made it difficult to aim decent shots, but the three of you had managed so far. You just had to hold out 4 more minutes for Gavin to get your team out and Jack will collect Geoff and Mich-

BOOM!

An explosion from your right rattled the foundation of the building and was followed closely by a fresh spray of bullets.

"Shit!"

"They're coming from the West! Move!" Shouted someone, you weren't sure who, you just pushed as hard as you could to run to new cover.

"Dammit! Where are you?" That was Ryan, now next to you.

"I'm almost there, just hold-" Gavin’s squawking cut off abruptly.

"I'm here!" Jack interrupted "Let's go Dumbasses!"

"We're on our way!" yelled Michael, "Detonating charges now."

A series of explosions rock the north side of the building where the goons had been shooting from originally. It certainly did the trick as the shots died down for a moment and gave the three of you some time to get to a better position for your own evac.

"Gav, can you pick us up on the east side of the building instead?" The plan had originally been to run south, as far away from Michael's explosions as possible but with the addition of men on the west, that might be close to impossible now.

"I can try. No promises. 1 minute out."

It was weird to be on a mission where everyone was quiet, and the lack of friendly banter put you more on edge then the declining control your crew had on the situation at hand. Ryan yelling was typical, he was certainly a perfectionist at heart, but Jeremy’s lack of one liners, not a single weird question from Gavin, and none of Geoff’s sarcastic statements just made the tension around you worse.

And that was dangerous.

When you get stressed, you get anxious, and when you get anxious, you make mistakes. In your line of work, mistakes can be deadly. Death was not an option for you. You can't afford to make mistakes.

You stood to get a clear shot, popping one goon in the shoulder, another grunt took one in the gut and two more shots for his buddy. You knelt back down, gasping for air as you reloaded your gun. You had a bad habit for holding your breath more than you should.

"I'm here. On the south-east. Can't miss me." Gavin's voice announced on the radio. "We have company. Reds and blues."

"What? Already?" Jeremy asked, perplexed.

He was right to be confused. The police should not have been called out here for another 10 minutes or so. We knew the explosions would get their attention, but we had hoped to be long gone by then, leaving the Copirate's men to deal with the cops. This mission has really turned to shit.

"Hurry! I can't stay here long!" Gavin urged the three of us into action.

Ryan reloaded his gun, "Rimmy, go. Y/C/N and I will cover you."

"Got it." Jeremy got in position to run for the side door little ways away.

"Go!" You shouted as you stood again from your cover, Ryan mirroring your actions, as you both sent a spray of cover fire toward the enemy. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jeremy's ridiculous purple jacket moving quickly toward the door.

"I'm there. Y/C/N, your turn." Jeremy spoke out of breath.

"My turn." You repeated to yourself, crouching back down and reloading your clip again, waiting for Ryan's command.

"Go now. I'll be right behind you."

With that, you sprinted toward the door. The few obstacles in your way you simply vaulted over to make the distance smaller. You heard the pounding feet behind you, Ryan kept close as he blindly fired back at the goons, Jeremy helping lay down extra suppressing fire. When you made it to the door, you wasted no time flinging it open, the bright sun blinding you momentarily as your eyes adjusted to the outside. As your eyes adjusted, they searched for Gavin's borrowed vehicle, which was just at the mouth of the alleyway and not at all far from the door you were stood in.

"I see GB," Before you could even take a step toward him, gunfire coming from the opposite end of the alleyway halted your movements. Jeremy, who had come up behind you, pushed you down to the ground out of the way of the bullets, most of which clinked off the metal of the warehouse beside you.

"Shit, they've followed us!" Ryan said as he poked his head and gun around the corner. "Can you get any closer, GB?"

"If you cover me, I can." Gavin responded, revving the car.

"Then go," Jeremy stood tall and popped some shots off, Ryan soon joining him.

You huffed from your position, standing and joining the boys in their discount firing squad. Gavin drove forward under your covering fire, stopping a few inches behind you.

"Get in!" Gavin ordered.

Jeremy glanced back at you, "Y/C/N, go."

You grunted in response and made your way to the passenger seat on the diver side. Ryan and Jeremy moved as a unit to the opposite side of the car, Ryan a step-in front of Jeremy. You found yourself holding your breath as you tracked them slowly sidestepping to the passenger side of the car. Once they opened the doors you finally allowed yourself to let out the air you were holding. Your relief was short lived, unfortunately, as the sirens got close enough that you were seeing the red and blue lights bouncing off the walls of the ally.

Gavin floored the car as soon as the doors shut, taking off as quickly as the car could toward the Copirate goons. All your heads were lowered as bullets rained down on the car from both the front and the back. The car barreled down the ally, towards the goons, who had only seconds to dive out of the way.

"You alright?" Jeremy was talking lowly to you. He had pulled his dusty sunglasses off his face and you could clearly see the worry written in his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm good."

You gave him the best smile you could manage, and he just chuckled and shook his head in response before reaching for you. His hand curled around your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair, and he gently pulled your head closer to him. His lips pressed a kiss to your forehead and he mumbled into your skin.

"What?"

He pulled back only slightly, "I said good." He smiled at you, "Let's keep it that way."

"You got it, Rimmy!" You stifled a laugh at his ridiculous name before having to brace your hand against the seat in front of you as the car lurched when Gavin made a particularly tight turn.

“Bloody hell, you two. Get a-”

Gavin’s sentence was interrupted by an armored SWAT vehicle slamming into your getaway car full speed. The impact threw your car into a roll across the freeway, broken glass and bullet casings filled the air. Your head slammed into the inside of the door which sent your world into darkness.

#fanfiction #reader insert #jeremy dooley x reader #jeremy dooley imagine #fake ah crew #achievement hunter fanfiction #random prompts found on the internet #part 1 of 3 #complete #fahc jeremy

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