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#jeremy dooley x reader
power-sit-could · 4 days
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garden-whole · 9 days
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Shake my body
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aplaceforrtprompts · 5 years
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Holiday Flash Fics: Day 4
Pairing: Jeremy Dooley x Reader
Prompt: “I’m too short to get the star on the top of the tree and oh my, you’re lifting me up.”
Word Count: 662
Requester: @whysamwhy123
Holiday Flash Fic Prompts Here!
You gave Jeremy a shy smile as you both came up to the Achievement Hunter Christmas tree to hang ornaments. Jeremy waggled his eyebrows at you and held up a Garbo decoration a fan had sent in.
You giggled, “Why am I not surprised?” You leaned in a little closer, “That’s actually really well made.”
“A popular choice for fan made ornaments but this is one of the nicer ones. Hey, did you see yours yet?” Jeremy asked placing the decor on the tree and turning back to his pile.
“My what?” He gave him a confused look as you placed your ornament.
Jeremy shuffled around in the pile beside him before turning and handing you a small ornament. It took you a moment to see what it was but you gasped as you realized it was your GTA character that you occasionally played in videos. It wasn’t the best made piece ever sent in but it was the first one you had gotten of your character. You hugged the ornament to your chest.
“Can I see yours?” you asked.
Jeremy smiled knowingly, “I don’t have one. None of us do, at least not by that fan. The card is really sweet too.” Jeremy passed over a handmade Christmas card.
You took it carefully, reading over the kind words of a fan who mentioned how much they loved seeing you on camera and would love to see you more. You tucked the card away and made a mental note to write back. You hung your ornament up and stepped back looking at the finished tree.
“All it needs is the star,” Michael smirked, nodding at your handy work. You held out your hand but Michael shook his head, “No. This honor is all Jeremy’s.” He passed the tree topper over.
Jeremy just shrugged and went to reach for a chair. That was until Gavin pulled out his phone and challenged him, “Bet you can’t get it on top without climbing on anything.
“Oh. Ho. You’re on,” Jeremy smirked and instantly tried throwing the star at the top of the tree.
After a few attempts, Jeremy started making a jump for it, though all that he managed to do was knock a good amount of ornaments off and bend the star. He started looking for something he could shoot the star to the top of the tree when you decided enough was enough.
You grabbed Jeremy and lifted him to the tree, him shouting the entire time. You knew he didn’t like being picked up but for the camera, he could deal.
“Oh, shut up and just put the star on. You’re heavy,” you told him. You were so thankful for Lindsay pushing you to go to the gym because that man was a lot of muscle packed into a small body.
The room busted up laughing as Jeremy grumbled, “There it’s on.”
“Oh thank you,” you sighed and took a step back to let Jeremy down but your foot landed on one of the baubles he had knocked down earlier. You slipped and both of you went tumbling to the ground.
“Oh my god! Are you okay?” Jeremy asked as he tried to scramble off of you but basically ended up straddled over you.
You smiled and laughed a little, “Actually pretty good.”
Jeremy chuckled and got off of you, “Come on. Let’s get you up.” He held out his hand. You sat up and took his hand but he pulled you up a little too hard and the two of you came chest to chest. His hands coming around your waist to steady you. You started to lean in and so did he until a loud whooping caused the two of you to jump apart and remember you weren’t the only ones in the room.
“Oh smooth, Gavin,” Michael tossed a pillow at him, “They were finally going to kiss!”
The two of you looked away from each other, blushing madly.
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5lbsofsmarties · 5 years
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Winter Writing Challenge 2k18: Day 7
Word Count: 344 “Let’s watch stupid Christmas movies and get wasted.” Jeremy Dooley
Lazy weekends were something that you truly lived for. After a long week of work all you wanted to do on your days off was to relax at home with your husband. It didn’t always go to plan, sometimes you had plans that couldn’t be canceled or rescheduled and you would reluctantly leave your house to join the rest of the world. There were other times when you actually did want to go out and do something but then it was Jeremy who wanted to stay in and wouldn’t stop for anything until you agreed to stay with him.
“C’mon, Jeremy.” you whined softly as you followed him around the kitchen.
Jeremy only shrugged, “Y/N, I just got home from a haunt. I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“But the neighbors set up their Christmas lights. Let’s go for a walk and look at them, please? We can go catch some Pokemon… look at the lights. It’ll be fun.”
You could see Jeremy shaking his head from side to side from where he was stood in the pantry doorway, his back to you. He was quiet for a moment but turned to face you, setting a bottle of whiskey down on the counter. In an instant, Jeremy was in front of you with his hands at your waist. He hoisted you up effortlessly and planted you on the kitchen counter.
His lips were suddenly on your own and you helplessly reached out to grasp at the sides of his neck as an achor. After a few heated minutes, Jeremy pulled out of the kiss. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes wide, and a smirk found its way to his face.
“You know what we should do tonight?” he asked.
You made a vague, dazed sound of inquiry.
“Let’s watch stupid Christmas movies and get wasted.”
There was a small stretch of time where neither of you said anything before you smiled widely and shook your head slowly from side to side. “Kiss me like that again and we can do whatever you want.”
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bellshellsrage · 6 years
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Rimmy Boom
Word Count: 525
Pairing: Jeremy Dooley (fahc) x reader
Prompt: Jeremy (Rimmy Tim) and the reader causing chaos on the streets of Los Santos (from @insomniaxart )
    The sirens screamed around us, but our laughter rose above the sound as we careened around a sharp turn. Flashing lights made the interior of the car illuminate in bright reds and blues with Jeremy’s purple hair turning darker each time.
“Jeremy! Don’t you dare stop this fucking car!” I squealed, gripping the dash with a grin as I glanced at him.
His face was full of delight as he threw a grenade out of his open window, not caring where it landed. “I wasn’t planning on it, sugar!”
I reached back to grab my crossbow and Jeremy handed me an arrow. The tip was already flashing and I shot it before watching it explode a cop car as it got too close to us. “Ha! That’s what you get!” I called to the air before turning back to watch the road as Jeremy drove madly. “Turn here. It’s time for the show.”
“I thought we were already giving them a show.” Jeremy replied, but followed my directions to the top of the mountain. We got out of the car and ran to the stash of fireworks nearby. He lit them and I cheered as they went off.
“Hell yeah! These are so good, J!”
Jeremy turned and stepped back to reach for my hand. “I’m glad you like them.” We stood in silence as the purple, orange, and blue flashes lit the darkening sky. The police were still scrambling around in the city, and I smirked when the choppers flew overhead. “They’re still looking for us.”
“Good. Let them look.” I shrugged as I sat down. The fires from our warpath still blazed, and Jeremy chuckled as he sank down in the grass beside me.
“Pretty good way to spend the day, huh?”
    I scanned the horizon and smiled when I saw a glint of a sniper rifle left on a rooftop from yesterday’s heist, and the burned remains of multiple cars that met their grizzly fate when Jeremy and I innocently interrupted a police chase as we raced each other through the streets of the city.
Pressure on my shoulder made me blink and scowl as I tore my eyes away from the setting sun. Jeremy was watching me with a curious and slightly concerned expression. “You okay?”
“I’m leaving the crew, Rimmy.”
I felt Jeremy’s body stiffen, first at the use of his alter ego’s name in such a casual setting, and then at my words. “Did you tell the others yet?”
“I needed to tell you first.” I replied, watching his face. He was staring out at the same scene that I was looking at, but instead of serene pleasure, his face was awash in pain and anger.
He stood and started to walk towards the car. “I need to go blow something up. Don’t follow me.”
I nodded silently and listened to his door slam shut before the gravel under his tires hit me. The bright colors of the car were easy to spot as he sped through the outskirts of the city, followed by loud explosions and fire.
“Welp…” I muttered aloud to the open air. “That went well.”
[tagged blogs: @fics4you and @kirakombat ]
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rosegoldachievement · 6 years
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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 · 6 years
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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 · 6 years
Text
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.
71 notes · View notes
tigerinthestars · 6 years
Text
What Can Go Wrong Part III [Final]
Summary: What was supposed to be a simple heist spirals out of control. Everything seems to be going from bad to worse. What was Murphy's Law again?
Also, the one where Jeremy saves you from certain death.
Pairing: FAHC!Jeremy x FAHC!Reader
Words: 3,052
Warnings: Language and violence.
A/N: Here’s the third and final part! Enjoy!
Read it on AO3!
Part I ~ Part II
You don’t know how long you sat there grieving before you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see Jack had opened your door and was crouched down on her knees. Her red hair was frizzy and there was blood on her floral shirt. Jeremy's blood, you guessed with a hiccup. Her eyes were kind and sad, flickering between you and the hat in your hands, as she forced a smile on her lips, her thumb rubbing your shoulder in soothing circles.
"He's gonna be okay." Her voice wavered as she said those words, a single tear fell from her eyes. She looked like she wanted to say more but either she couldn't find the words or was unable to without breaking down, you weren't sure which.
You couldn't find your voice to respond, just fell heavily into her arms. A fresh set of sobs and tears spilled from you. Jack wrapped her arms around you tightly, her own tears fell onto your filthy shirt. You both were knelt on the floor, crying into each other’s arms. After a moment, there was a shadow that fell upon you both. You didn't move an inch as you sensed the presence of others around you. You looked up when you heard someone sniffle and saw the rest of your chosen family.
Michael had taken his glasses off and was rubbing his eyes. Gavin was hanging his head in defeat. Lindsay had her forehead pressed against Michael's shoulder, her lips pressed in a hard line and eyes screwed shut. Geoff had tears freely falling from his eyes, a hand covered his mouth and his gaze was fixed on the hat in your hand. Ryan had pulled his mask off and was staring at it in his hands with a faraway look in his blue eyes.
Jack looked up as well, her teary gaze falling on the hurting family as well. You both stood together. All of you stepped forward, together, arms curling around each other’s shoulders. You all had moved into a circle, creating a group hug with your heads bowed. Your arms had remained in front of you, Jeremy's hat still in your hands. You were all painfully aware of the absent member of your family. Your hurt shared between each other as you all stood in silence. That was, until someone was brave enough to break it.
"Is he going to be okay?" Gavin asked hesitantly, his voice small and heavy with emotion. His accent thickened in his grief.
"Yeah," Geoff managed to respond, his voice cracking, "They said he should be fine."
You let out a breathed in relief, your eyes closing as you tried to compose yourself. While the news was good, this still hit too close. It still was a shock. One you will not be forgetting anytime soon.
"Fuck." Michael muttered, his eyes red with tears. "What the fuck happened?"
"He saved her," Ryan answered, "He took the bullet for Y/N."
You looked up then, up at the faces of the people you called family. You saw the remnants of their grief and having verbal conformation that you were technically responsible stabbed you like an ice-cold knife. What if…
"Damn that boy," Jack said, "His heart of gold."
"This would have been a different story if Jeremy hadn't pushed you down." Ryan said, looking right at you.  "Jeremy saved your life."
You nodded at him, but you couldn't help the guilt you felt. Jeremy almost died because of you. If you weren't there. If you weren't involved. Maybe…
"He cares so much for you, you know?" Jack spoke softly to you, perceptive as always. She may not know exactly where your thoughts were taking you, but she probably had a decent idea. She always did.
You nodded again and tried to quell the guilt you felt. Licking your dry lips, you tried to clear your throat. "When can I see him?" Clearing your throat didn't help much, your voice still sounded wrecked.
"They said they would call when they were done."  Geoff answered you, his voice sounding much better than it had moments ago. "Why don't we all get cleaned up? There's no telling how long it will take."
Everyone mumbled their agreements and you moved as a unit to the elevator. In the bright light of the elevator, you were reminded of your sore head. You needed to be checked out by the medical staff. Although, everyone down there is probably busy with Jeremy. May as well get cleaned up and have half their job done for them so you have more time with Jeremy.
The elevator ride to the top floors was filled with a comfortable silence as everyone broke off to their floors to get washed up. You had kept your eyes down cast to the battered hat in your grip. You got off on your floor, biding everyone a nod as a goodbye, not able to force a smile yet. You shared this floor with Jeremy. You felt the lump in your throat reform as the reality of what almost happened dawned on you once again. You don’t know what you would have done if Jeremy didn't make it. If you had to come back here without him.
With a shaky sigh you made your way to your master bedroom with its en suite bathroom. Once there, you laid the hat on your bed, your gaze lingering on the silly thing before you moved to gather up some fresh clothes from your shared closet and enter the bathroom. For the first time since to heist started you got to see what state your appearance was in staring at you from your reflection. You saw red and puff eyes and dried tear tracks; frizzy and matted hair; soot and dirt on your face and dried blood on your temple coming from somewhere above your hairline, probably from when you hit your head in the car; and bruises blossoming all over yourself. You have certainly seen better days. You looked awful.
You began to carefully peel your dirty and ripped clothes off your body. Once done, you turned the shower on and waited for the water to heat up. You inspected your body for any more injuries. You only found shallow cuts and scrapes, thankfully. When the steam began to rise, you stepped into the spacious shower and simply stood there. You watched the blood get washed off your body and swirl down the drain. You wished your pain would wash away just as easily.
You went through the motions of cleaning yourself, trying and failing to keep your mind off what was happening floors below you. You didn't want to, but you cursed him for putting you through this. You were beginning to hate the feelings in your chest. How could he do this to you? What was he thinking? Did he think getting himself killed was going to save you? How damn selfish is that?
You swallowed around the lump in your throat as your scrubbed your scalp. You loved him with all your heart. With every fiber of your being. You were so thankful to have met Jeremy in the first place. But in this moment, at this particular moment, you wished you had never met him. If you didn't know him, then you wouldn't be hurting like this. These thoughts only made you hate yourself. The bitter taste in your mouth grew as you finished your shower and grabbed your towel.
You dried yourself off angrily, though you weren't sure who you were angry with at that moment. Once dry, you peaked at yourself in the mirror and resolved that you looked better. Pulling on the clothes you grabbed, a loose t-shirt and sweat pants and a pair of underwear, and brushing your hair you still saw the emotions flashing through your eyes, you saw the tension in your body.
You were startled from your staring contest with your reflection by a knock on the door. Putting the brush down, you ran a hand through your wet hair as you made your way to the door to your floor. When you opened the door, you saw Geoff and Jack, cleaned up and wearing comfy clothes like you.
"Caleb called. He said they're done. Jeremy is fine, sleeping and pumped full of pain meds." Geoff informed you, a smile on his face.
"I came to walk you down, if you don't mind." Jack added with a smile of her own.
"Okay," you replied, "I just need to grab something really quick." You turned and made your way back to your bedroom when they nodded.
Your gaze immediately fell to the hat on your bed. You grabbed it and one of Jeremy's hoodies and went back out to Jack and Geoff who had stepped inside when you left them at the door. They gave you sad smiles when they saw what was in your arms.
"You ready?" Jack asked.
You took a moment to think, was there anything else? "He almost died." Your voice sounded hallow even to your own ears.
"But he didn't," Geoff said immediately. "It wasn't your fault, Y/N."
"Wasn't it?"
"No, it wasn't. This was his choice." Jack spoke softly. "Don’t do this to yourself, Y/N.”
"Do this to myself? He-" you interrupted yourself and looked at the floor, stealing yourself. "Should I grab him clothes?" You continued in almost a whisper.
"I'll grab them," Geoff offered, "You girls go ahead."
Jack stepped forward and placed an arm around your shoulders and guided you to the elevator. She pressed the button for the basement level and pulled you tightly into her side. "I know it hurts right now, but know that this was not your fault. In fact, you can ask him yourself when he wakes up."
"Oh, I definitely will be." You said, the hint of a smile tugged at your lips.
"I am sure he will love every moment of the verbal lashing you will give him as soon as he wakes."
"He better, the fool."
"Aren't we all?" Jack said with a chuckle as the elevator dinged, signaling that you had arrived at the appropriate floor.
The two of you made your way through the infirmary, one of the nurses pointed out the room to you as you passed. Both of you paused, Jack's hand on the door handle while yours tighten their grip on the cowboy hat and the jacket. After a moment of hesitation, you both pushed your way into the room and you found yourself once more fighting tears at the sight of him.
Jeremy was lying in a hospital bed with a sheet tucked tightly around his body. Both his arms were laid out, IV leads connecting him to the machines that surrounded him, and a blood pressure cuff was secured on his left bicep. The heart rate monitor beeped in an even rhythm and was the only sound in the room. They had cleaned his face of blood and grime, as with the rest of his body, from what you could see. He was dressed in a white shirt which hid, with help from the blanket, the damages from sight. He looked peaceful, completely at rest. That's what got you. All this scare and he is just peacefully lying there, oblivious and ignorant.
Jack guided you to the chair that had been placed by his bedside in anticipation for your arrival. You sat numbly, not once looking away from his sleeping face. Jack pulled the hoodie from your death grip and helped you put it on, breaking your sight with him for a second. You looked to her, then the hat still sitting in your lap, and then you focused back on Jeremy's face.
"Do you want me to leave you?" Jack asked, running her hand comfortingly through your wet hair.
Before you could answer, Geoff entered with a pile of Jeremy's clothes in his arms. His eye flicked over all of you before settling on Jeremy, much like yours. He frowned before moving into the room completely, shutting the door behind him and placing the clothes on a table nearby. Geoff walked to the other side of the bed where he hesitated a moment. His gazed move to you and he seemed to be conflicted with what he wants to say to you.
"They said the operation to remove the bullet went smoothly," so he spoke more with the nurses and doctors, that's what delayed him, "Minor internal damage which will heal with time, so long as he takes it easy. He lost a lot of blood," Geoff's gaze shifted to the IV lines connected to Jeremy's arms, "so they're giving him some of that and morphine and saline. They said he may not wake until tomorrow."
You nodded your acknowledgement, not trusting your voice once again. You wanted to touch him, but he looked like he might shatter if you did. You didn't think he could ever look so pale. Or so fragile.
"They brought in a cot if you feel like sleeping." Geoff gestured to the collapsed bed on wheels behind him. You don't think you'll be sleeping tonight.
"We'll leave you two be," Jack said from behind you with a pointed look at Geoff which you missed, "Unless there's something else you need?"
You shook your head and opened your mouth to thank them, but you couldn't get the words out. Geoff just smiled at you, "It's okay, sweet heart. We know."
"Call us if you need anything." Jack said with one last look at Jeremy before both she and Geoff left you to the quiet room.
You sat and stared at Jeremy. Watching his chest as he breathed. You almost lost him. The sight of him falling on the pavement flashed before your eyes, taking the bullet that was meant for you without a second thought. The tears that you thought were gone began to fall again. You began to sob quietly into his bedside, a hand shakily reaching for his face down hand. It was cold, you noted with a sniffle. Your hand curled tightly around his bigger one, pulling it closer to you so that you could press your forehead against it.
You sat there, hand in his and head laid on his bed, Jeremy's hat squished to your chest by your other hand, for so long you fell asleep. Not even the nurses coming a going to check on Jeremy woke you. What did eventually wake you was pressure on your head. You felt a hand run through your hair. You blinked sleep from your eyes and slowly sat up to hear a gravelly "Good morning" from above you. Your eyes snapped up to meet Jeremy's warm, brown ones.
"Jeremy," you said with a gasp.
"That's me," he said with a smile, "Hi, Y/N."
After a moment of shocked silence, your felt the anger, the sadness, the grief, and the confusion from yesterday come to a front. The anger was the loudest. "What the fuck, Jeremy?"
"What?" Jeremy asked as if he had no idea what you were talking about, the ass.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about! What were you thinking?" You ground your teeth together.
"I was thinking I saved your life."
"And yours? You almost-, I thought you-" You couldn't even bring yourself to finish those sentences. You felt tears prick at your eyes again. You were tired of crying.
"I wasn't thinking-"
You cut him off, "Obviously."
He had the audacity to shoot a glare at you, "Don't look at me like that. You don’t get to be pissed at me. Not after what I went through these past twenty-four hours."
"I just-. Y/N, I wasn't thinking about what happened to me," You crossed your arms and sat back in your chair, "I was thinking about you."
"So? If you," you closed your eyes for a moment and took a breath, "If you died, what was I supposed to do?"
"And if you died? Y/N, I was presented with a choice, you or me. I chose you. That's all." Jeremy tried to sit up a bit, but a groan of pain stopped him in is tracks.
You shot forward and put a hand on his chest, "Careful! You were shot, remember? You need to take it easy!" You gently pushed him down back on the bed.
Jeremy let you push him back and once he was settled, he reached up with a hand pushed your hair back behind your ears and looked you in the eyes, "If my legacy is to throw myself in the path of a bullet to save your life, then so be it."
You reached up to cup his hand to your face and shook your head, tears in your eyes, "No, we go down together. You understand?"
Jeremy laughed at that, "Fair enough." He smiled at you, love in his eyes. "Com'ere."
With the hand on the side of your face, he brought your head to his, your lips met in a chaste kiss. You tried to convey all the pain and relief you were feeling into that kiss while Jeremy responded to you with an apology. When you both broke the kiss, you pressed your foreheads together and just breathed.
You heard gagging sounds come from your right and you both turned to the door to see the rest of the Fake AH Crew stood in the doorway. The gagging sounds had come from Gavin and Michael judging by their matching grins, Lindsay giggling along. Jack had warm smile on her face and Geoff was busy trying to hold in his laugh from the lad’s antics. Ryan even had a soft and amused look in his steel eyes, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"So, how's the moron who got himself shot?" Geoff asked after he rained his laughter, only to burst out laughing along with everyone else and the crowd in the door made their way into the room.
Tears fell from your eyes, this time from happiness as you looked upon your family in fondness. There really isn't a dull moment in the Fake AH Crew.
(Anyone who says otherwise can kiss ALL your asses.)
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stormynightcloud · 6 years
Text
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
Text
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
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Text
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."
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aplaceforrtprompts · 6 years
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.”
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5lbsofsmarties · 6 years
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.
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bellshellsrage · 6 years
Text
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...
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the-golden-gus-blog · 7 years
Note
readerxjeremy where reader is shorter than him and he's very smug about it please?
Pairing: Jeremy x Reader
Word Count: 266
Author’s Note: Well, this took way too long. Hopefully I can schedule myself soon.
“Hand me the measuring tape?”
After the grueling process of moving into a new home during an Austin summer, all you needed to do was hang one more poster. Then, you and Jeremy would officially have a home together.
“On it!” Jeremy rounded the corner and handed you the measuring tape. He watched you, standing on a chair and trying not to tumble down, and offered to hold it steady. “How’s the view from up there?” he mocked.
Ever since you could remember, you’d been hearing short jokes. The only reason Jeremy got away with it was because he was your short partner in crime. And maybe the whole “married” thing also had something to do with it.
“We’re moving into our very own house together and you still find a way to sneak in a short joke?”
“I mean, it’s what you signed up for.”
You hopped off the chair and stood back to admire your work, when suddenly you had an idea. “Stand up straight, near the door frame,” you ordered. Jeremy tilted his head in confusion and did as he was told.
“What is this?”
“You never did this as a kid? Where you parents would measure you on the door frame?” You marked the top of his head and had him step aside. Extending the measuring tape, you marked his height at somewhere around 5’4. Jeremy responded by leaving a mark near the bottom of the door frame, labeling you as a single foot tall. “Gotta keep that illusion of height,” he said, planting a kiss on your forehead.
“Yeah, the illusion.”
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