#and Jamie doesn’t like being alone

[jamietwat]

Roy going along to watch Jamie get his chest waxed and Jamie just thinks he offered to come with him to keep him company and because they do shit together all the time and because they were already hanging out beforehand when Jamie said he had to go because he had a waxing appointment

Jamie thinks it’s nice that he doesn’t have to go on his own (since we already know he used to bring Keeley along with him) and doesn’t consider the ulterior motive until he realizes why Roy really came when Roy isn’t just tolerating being there, he’s having the time of his life laughing at Jamie’s pain

Jamie still invites him along the next time anyway and then suddenly Roy going with him to watch Jamie and refuse to get his own chest waxed no matter how much Jamie bugs him about it becomes the new routine

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[justsomeguycore]

idk how the fandom will cope if jamie and keeley get back together and that’s it. like roy has to just be like. ok

[ellecdc]

My love!! I have an idea for fic (only if you want to of course) james potter x reader where james is obsessed with reader’s tits and after a minor couple arguments james was still sulking and reader wants him to be the first one to talk to her so she wear very revealing clothes to tease him and he give in.

It doesn’t have to be a smut, just teasing and fluff!

hahaha awe this is so funny - the best part is, it would so work!!! Thanks for requesting 🫶

James Potter x fem!reader

CW: mention of boobs/tits/love of tits - no smut, joke about dying from suffocation on account of boobies

You were being petty; both of you were. In fact, the two of you seemed to be working overtime just to stay mad at each other at this point.

You can’t even really remember what you had argued about in the first place that caused this rift between you and James; all you knew was that you were not going to be the first to apologize.

It had been a few days since the big blow up that saw James uncharacteristically stern and firm in his words and left you feeling horribly defensive in response. Words were said, feelings were hurt, and now you were here.

Here being this awkward quasi-polite energy in your few measly interactions as you tried to co-exist in the same flat.

He made dinner one night - shrimp korma and a side of homemade naan - and you may have been mad, but you weren’t a jerk, so you thanked him for it.

You had been cleaning the flat one day and started a load of wash. You had more than enough room for more clothes, and not doing James’ wash just for the sake of it wasn’t worth the extra hit to your water bill (which wasn’t an issue, but old habits die hard in your case), so you threw his in too. And once it was washed and dried, well, you figured you might as well fold it and put it away for him. 

He had to begrudgingly thank you for that as well.

So now it was the weekend, and the two of you were clearly dying to update each other on your weeks. You couldn’t help but admit that you really missed James. You missed chatting with him, you missed laughing with him, you missed venting to him, and you missing cuddling with him.

There were other things you missed but... that was neither here nor there. 

All this to say, the feud needed to end.

But you were steadfast in your stance that you were not going to break first.

The idea came to you yesterday morning when James returned from his run sans shirt and muscles glistening with sweat in a way that actually had your mouth watering like some kind of deranged off-brand Pavlov experiment. The worst part was that James had noticed you ogling him and walked away to shower (alone, the bastard) with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

No matter, this just served to give you your brilliant master plan to win him back.

You had something James adored... two things, as a matter of fact.

Anyone who knows James Potter knows that James is a certified Boob Guy™. More specifically, James Potter loved your tits. You had two assets free to use in this battle, and you weren’t going to let that advantage go to waste. 

The weather, it seemed, supported your master plan and was finally warm and sunny enough to break out some of your more... revealing clothing. Today’s ensemble consisted of a particularly low neckline and tight-fitting tank top. You gathered a book and a bottle of water as you walked towards the back door for the terrace. James, being completely unable to break his good mannerdness even in the face of petty feuds, jumped up to get the door for you when he noticed that your hands were full. 

You made a point to use your elbows to encourage the girls a little closer together as he approached, causing him to stumble in his steps as his eyes strayed from his destination.

“Thanks, Jamie.” You murmured quietly, making sure a cool sense of indifference still coloured your tone. That seemed to shake James from his reverie as he looked up at you, a look of regret seeming to cross his face briefly at not being able to do what he would normally opt to in this situation (i.e., shove his face between them and die due to suffocation). 

“’Course.” He offered instead of saying “oh my god I love your boobies” and cleared his throat, closing the door gently behind you as you made your way to a lounge chair. 

You knew James wouldn’t have gotten far, so you read a few pages before deciding to step up this little ruse.

You slipped your tank top off to display your torso, boobs only supported by a thin bandeau wrapping around your chest. You poured a little water into your hair and then onto your chest to cool off when you heard a solid thunk on the panned glass of your back door. 

When you turned to look, you saw James’ retreating form and the tell-tale imprint of his forehead against the window where he had been standing previously. 

Though you knew you made an impact today, James seemed resolute in his sulking. No matter, tomorrow was a brand-new day.

Being a brand-new day, your morning outfit was a pair of joggers that you rolled the waist band a few times to expose more abdomen paired with a cropped top that was probably a touch too cropped to begin with, let alone paired with your currently braless state.

You could have sworn you heard James try (and fail) to suppress a groan as you entered the kitchen. You hid a smirk as you offered him a faint ‘morning’ and began readying yourself a cup of tea.

Apparently, James’ self-restraint snapped when you stood on your tip-toes to reach the honey on the second shelf of your cupboard; the action of you raising your arm causing your shirt to also lift sinfully.

“Angel.” He keened, causing you to turn your (what you hoped to look like an) innocent expression on him.

“Yes, Jamie?”

He groaned again and stood from the breakfast table, taking slow, cautious steps towards you. “I’m so sorry, love I... I hate that I let us go this long upset with each other.”

Your mouth pinched to the side as you spread your arms – inviting James into your embrace which he was all too eager to accept. “I’m sorry too, bubs. I’ve been immature.”

He half-chuckled half-groaned into your shoulder as the two of you relished in the feel of being in the other’s arms. 

“You are a cheeky little minx, torturing me like this.” He muttered.

“Like what?”

James scoffed and pulled back to look at you incredulously, but any mirth in his face was completely curtailed by the fondness oozing from his warm brown eyes.

“Oh, I’ve missed you.” He said as he bent his knees to be at eye level with your tits before he shoved his face right between them.

You rolled your eyes though he couldn’t see it, asking “who? Me or my tits?”

He was quiet for a moment as he thought about his answer. “Both?” He said, voice muffled from his place in your chest.

“I’ll allow it on account of your withdrawal.” You conceded. 

Note to self: all future arguments can be solved by flashing a little under-boob. 

[puck-luck]

code-breaker | jack hughes

warnings: pining!, unprotected p in v, lots of miscommunication but it is resolved duh, lmao uhhhhh jack fucking his best friend's sister maybe? kind of a big plot point fasho, a lame excuse for a squirt, cum on da body (chest), eating come, lots of banter, tiny TINY bit of angst and insecurity on fem!reader's part pairing: jack hughes x zegras!reader request: cappy's "sister of the best friend, lake house, etc. sister makes the first move and the guy tries to turn her down out of loyalty to the other boy and she gets a little hurt and insecure thinking he's rejecting her and she's like "am i really that bad?" with her voice craking and he's like fuck then... smut!" wc: 4327

Jack is here. 

Jack, who you’ve been in love with since your twin brother started hanging out with him when they were in NTDP together. Jack, the New Jersey Devils’ prized star, the number one pick. Jack, the most annoying and most attractive brother of the esteemed Hughes family from Michigan. Yes, that Jack is here– ‘here’ being your apartment that you share with your brother in Anaheim now that Jamie has moved out and away.

Jack is here. You are here. Trevor is not.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” you tell him awkwardly, still holding the door open and blocking the doorway. You’re all too aware of your lazy, solo-movie-night outfit as you stand in front of him. You’re clad only in a big shirt, one that normally reaches the middle of your thighs but has ridden up since your hands are raised and resting against the doorframe, and your favorite pair of panties. You did laundry earlier and showered, your big exciting thing of the day being that you could but on your favorite underwear and be lazy as soon as you finished the chore of folding your clothes. “Trevor’s in New York right now.”

“I know,” Jack says, a hand on his suitcase. The other is clenched by his side. “I have a meeting in LA tomorrow so he said I could stay here while he was gone.”

“Oh,” you reply, feeling silly. It would’ve been nice if your brother had told you that Jack was coming and staying here while he was gone, considering you’d made plans to be alone all night tonight. Trevor always does shit like this– he makes plans and then forgets to tell you until someone shows up or he has to leave to meet them. It’s frustrating. “Come on in, then.”

You move to the side, gesturing for Jack to enter the apartment, and he does. His suitcase rolls in behind him, just a little carry on, and he leaves it beside the door where he kicks off his shoes. 

Your hands make their way to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging at it. “I’ll, uh, go change into something more–”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Jack interrupts, waving you off. He clears his throat. “You don’t have to change on my account. I’m interrupting your night of–” 

He looks to the couch and the coffee table, littered with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine that you had been drinking out of, straight from the spout. Your movie is paused on the screen, a silly Disney Channel movie that had come out when you and Trevor were children and still hadn’t lost its touch yet. You’re hoping that Jack doesn’t recognize the screencap, but Mel’s Lemonade machine fills the screen and if he’s seen Lemonade Mouth at all, he’ll know what movie you’re watching.

“Disney Channel and wine,” Jack finishes, pinching his lips to hide the amusement in his voice.

You frown, even though you want to burst into laughter with him. It is silly, what you’re doing, but you were supposed to be alone and who are you to be ashamed of your guilty pleasures?

“Don’t make fun,” you admonish, crossing your arms with a pout. “I thought I had the apartment to myself.”

“I’m not making fun!” Jack denies, holding his hands up in surrender. “I think it’s nice that you’re having a me-party.”

He’s referencing the other time he’s interrupted when you’re having a movie night on your own, when you watched The Muppets (2011) at the lake house because the boys were out on the boat and you had gotten a nasty sunburn the day before, so you’d stayed in. Jack had come back early because he was hungry, making the boys drop him off at the dock before going back out, and caught you red-handed with his favorite kind of pretzels and a half-full bottle of margarita next to the blender. 

You blush, glaring at him slightly. “Shut up, Jack.”

“No, this is perfect,” Jack continues, glowing a little as his shit-eating smile builds. He walks over to the couch and plops down, grabbing the bottle of wine and taking a swig before wiping his mouth. “I’m already dressed for a lazy night in, I shouldn’t waste it.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick,” you complain. “You know you don’t want to watch this movie with me.”

“Why not?” He challenges, another tilt of the bottle pouring the fruity liquid down his throat. He spreads his legs when he sits as all the boys do, taking up as much space as he can. 

“Because you won’t like it,” you say. “And because I wasn’t planning on having you here.”

“Were you planning on having someone else here?” Jack teases. “Popcorn, red wine, a movie, no pants… I think I see the writing on the wall.”

“No, God, shut up, Jack!” You repeat with a huff, returning to the couch and curling up against the opposite arm, far away from the boy. “Just be quiet while I watch my movie. If you’re good, I’ll let you have some popcorn.”

Jack wiggles his eyebrows at you, sticking out his tongue. You pull at the bottom of your shirt again, making sure that your panties aren’t visible when he looks over. This is already humiliating enough– you don’t need your long-time crush seeing your underwear, too.

You hit play and turn the volume up loud enough to drown out any comments Jack might make. You’re lucky the movie is short, because he’s an antsy boy who loves to talk, just like your brother, and you can tell that he’s anxious to start another conversation.

As the credits roll, you mute the television and turn to him. “What?” You demand, sitting in criss-cross-applesauce and shoving your hands into your lap to stretch your shirt over the space between your legs. 

“You really didn’t have plans tonight?” Jack asks. “It’s a Saturday night and you live in LA. You’re in your twenties. You didn’t want to have anyone over?”

You flush, but it’s less out of embarrassment and more out of anger. “Judgemental much, Hughes? Not all of us have people throwing themselves at our feet any given day of the week.” You grind your teeth, clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath. You stare at him, refusing to break eye contact. Jack shouldn’t be allowed to form opinions on your life. You know exactly what he’s insinuating– why aren’t you out there getting laid, Y/N? and it’s frustrating because it’s the same question you ask yourself whenever your friends text about their recent hookups or whenever Trevor brings a girl back to the apartment. 

More than anything, you don’t want Jack judging you. You know that your Saturday night plans are lame, but that’s why you wanted to be alone. 

Jack falls quieter, your reaction diluting his crooked, toothy smirk that he reserves for the people he knows well. “I’m surprised you don’t have– people. Throwing themselves at you.”

He’s awkward when he says it, too awkward not to make you suspicious.

He’s avoiding eye contact, picking at his nailbeds. 

“Would you?” You ask, directly to the point. You’re making a point, too– you’ve known Jack for years and he has never, not once, implied that he thinks you’re desirable. 

Jack says nothing, running his fingers through his hair and looking down. 

You nod to yourself and stand from the couch, still tugging at your shirt. You’re pulling it even lower now, the neckline dipping and stretching as you cover your legs up as best you can. “That’s what I thought,” you say quietly, a cold feeling washing through your chest and pressing down on the skin that your heart beats beneath. 

“I would,” Jack calls, just as you walk away. You’re positioned right in front of the door that leads to your bedroom when he says it, head hanging towards the ground so that he doesn’t see the frown on your face. 

His silence was a rejection and his afterthought is even worse. Nonetheless, you turn to face him. This time, it’s your silence that rings throughout the space.

“I would,” Jack repeats. “If, y’know. You weren’t–”

“Trevor’s sister,” You say, filling in the blanks and finishing his sentence. You nod, a tight, close-lipped, and pointed smile on your face. “You don’t have to explain, Jack. I realized a long time ago that my world would always revolve around Trevor.” Your hand is on the doorknob now, twisting it and cracking your door open. Your bed is right there and you can collapse into it in mere seconds, able to let your tears leak into your pillow silently as you remind yourself that you’re not as good as your twin brother once again, just as soon as you get these words out. “I know I can’t do or say the things I want to with the people I want to because they’re always thinking about Trevor.”

You could add, And why would you be any different? You know him best. Of course he’s the one you’re loyal to, but you decide against it. It’s too petty. It’s too mean. It’s too– real. 

You look at him one last time to bid him goodnight, already craving the following day when his meeting is over and he heads back to Michigan, far away from you and your un-desirability. The tight smile returns to your face, trying to smooth out your upset yet resigned features. It’s always the same thing. It’s not Jack’s fault, really, it’s not. You’ve imagined this conversation in your head many times and each time you think rationally, you know that this is how it has to be.

He’s Jack Hughes, for God’s sake. You’re just Trevor Zegras’ less successful, lesser known twin sister.

“Trevor would kill me,” Jack says on a whim. “Really. He would. He would stand me up and punch me, right here.”

You’ve got one foot in your bedroom and one foot out. Despite the ice piercing through your chest, you can’t find it in yourself to be rude and close the door on him. You turn to face Jack again.

He’s sitting forward on the couch, hands clasped in front of him like a prayer. He moves them when he talks, lowering them and spreading them and gesturing with them. He’s always done that, ever since you’ve known him– it’s another way that he calls attention to himself and takes up space. It’s part of the reason why he’s so charming– he knows how to use his hands, how to touch someone to politely get them to move or to pull them closer or to playfully shoo them away. 

“If I had a sister, I’d do the same thing to him,” Jack continues. “It’s just– we can’t go for each others’ family. It’s against the code.”

You nod, slowly, exaggeratedly just to show him how nonsensical that sounds. “You realize it’s not up to Trevor to decide who you go out with,” you say. “That’s kind of your choice, Jack.”

“It’s not that simple.”

You shrug, then look away. Outside the living room window is a dark night, leaves blowing with the wind. 

“It could be,” you say after a moment. You’re not surprised to hear how resigned you sound. You learned to live with this a long time ago, so you know that pointing out how easily things could change is futile. You say it anyway. “If you wanted it to be. But, I get it. I’m your best friend’s sister. Maybe if I wasn’t, you’d consider–”

“I have considered,” Jack interrupts. “I’ve– well, you’ve seen it. All the guys have.”

You’re lost. It’s like he’s speaking in code. “I’ve seen what?” You ask, monotonous and silently yearning for your bed. Your patience is growing thin.

“You can’t be serious,” Jack responds with a laugh. He buries his face in his hands, muffling the noise. “Are you?”

“I’ve seen what,” you repeat, straight-faced and not entertaining this sudden bout of humor from the brunet boy.

“How I look at you when you’re in those tiny little swimsuits on the boat, or how I laugh when you make one of your stupid jokes that aren’t funny to anyone but you and Trevor,” Jack says. “You really never noticed?”

Now he’s just dangling your hopeless crush in front of you. You assumed he had noticed sometime over the years, but this is overkill. He’s never felt the same– that much is clear. It’s cruel that he thinks he can lead you to believe otherwise as a means to further tease you for being alone tonight.

You shake your head. “I never noticed because you never did any of those things, Jack. You’re just saying that to say it.”

He’s up in a flash, coming towards you and placing a hand flat on your bedroom door to prevent you from closing it and ending the conversation. “I can’t believe you don’t believe me,” Jack says.

“I don’t think it’s funny that you’re making fun of the little crush I’ve had on you since we were kids. You don’t feel the same way and I’m not an idiot.” You move to close the door again, but Jack pushes it open again. 

“You– I’m not making fun,” Jack stammers out, looking surprised. He leans forward, narrowing his eyes. “You have a crush on me?”

Your jaw drops and your face flames with humiliation. You thought he knew that you liked him and that he was making fun on purpose– and now you’ve accidentally revealed your massive, well-kept secret to his face. This was never supposed to happen. “You didn’t know?” You hiss, covering the lower half of your face with your hands. 

“You have a crush on me,” Jack repeats, a smile spreading across his face. He steps closer, prompting you to back away.

“No. No,” you moan out, feeling positively ashamed and destroyed. Tonight is not turning out as you hoped it would.

Jack’s still smiling, closing your bedroom door softly behind him as he follows you into your room. 

You knock into the edge of your bed and sit, sinking into the mattress. Your hands are still pressed over your mouth as Jack kneels in front of you, prying your hands away from your face and holding them gently. 

“You have a crush on me,” Jack says for a third time, his voice soft and subtly optimistic. The corner of his mouth curves up into the tiniest of smirks and you swear your face couldn’t get any more red.

All you can give him is a frown and a devastated wobble of your bottom lip. 

“Well, this changes everything,” Jack says, regaining his ability to joke, it seems. His next question is rhetorical and makes you swallow hard. “Who gives a fuck about Trevor when you feel the same way I do?” 

“You’re– you’re serious,” you say, still a thread of disbelief sewn into your words. “You weren’t kidding. You actually– thought about it.”

“Thought about it?” Jack asks. “Fuck, Y/N, I almost told you right before you left last summer, but then you said you were talking to that guy.”

You roll your eyes– that guy had only been in your life for about a month and you had only mentioned him because Jack had mentioned a girl he wanted to see. You tell him such– “I only brought him up because everyone was talking about their romantic interests and who they were interested in, I didn’t want to seem like a loser. You had some girl, too, Jack.”

“Some girl– that was you,” Jack reveals incredulously. “I thought I was being so obvious.”

“You weren’t obvious at all!” You deny, mouth open in a scoff. 

“I thought that you mentioning that guy was your way of letting me down easy!”

“Yes, Jack, because I was going to reveal my feelings for you in a room full of both of our brothers. Good idea. You fucking idiot!”

Jack laughs aloud, throwing his head back. His face scrunches up and he smooths his face with his big palm at the end of his amusement. He fixes you with a look of glee and astonishment– something only hindsight can bring to his expression. “We’re so fucking stupid.”

You shake your head, laughing with him for a moment before he swipes a thumb over your cheek, which stills you. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, smile still gracing his face. “I can’t believe–”

“Me neither,” you say.

“Can I–”

“Absolutely.”

Jack’s rising up, kissing you and laying you back on the bed so that he can completely cover your body with his own. One of his hands cups your cheek, while the other grips your hip, atop your underwear but underneath the big t-shirt that is now riding up your body as you move. Your hand is on his bicep and his chest, clutching his sweatshirt. The strings dangle down into your space, brushing against your clothes and tickling you.

His hands memorize you like a topographic map, clutching at your dips and curves and anything else he can get his hands on. 

“Wanna take this off,” You mumble against Jack’s mouth, tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt.

Jack pulls back immediately, reaching behind his neck to grab the collar of his top and bring it above his head. He balls it up and drops it somewhere on the floor. 

“That, too,” you tell him, about his t-shirt, before he can bend back down and kiss you senseless again.

Jack chuckles and pulls it off, too, leaving him half-naked just like you. His chest is tanned and swollen from his recent workouts in Michigan since his shoulder surgery, something that Trevor had told you about but about which you’d never checked in. You’re gentler on that side of his body, especially as he comes back down into your space and you get to touch him. You run your hands over his muscles. You feel out the ridges of his body, trying to match his own confident movements as he feels you up.

One of your hands makes its way to his v-line, something you’d seen over plenty of boat trips. You’d always wanted the opportunity to touch it, to trace it, to watch it bend and flex as he rolled his hips. You’re being afforded that opportunity now and it is sweet.

“I thought you might like that,” Jack murmurs. “Caught you staring once. Was the same day you wore my favorite red swimsuit out.”

“I still have it,” you tell him, gasping a little when his hand slides up to your chest. He tweaks your nipple, then his hand retreats. 

“Mm, a treat for tomorrow,” Jack says. “I’m gonna have you walking around in that thing all day just so I can look at you. For now…”

He trails off, pushing the bottom of your shirt up and leaving your lips to attach his to the freshly revealed skin of your torso. He kisses up your body with each inch he reveals, between your breasts and up your neck. He pulls your shirt off, letting it join his own on the floor, and gets his first proper look at your tits.

“Been waiting to see these,” he continues, eyes fixed on your chest like he’s being hypnotized. He places his hands on you and squeezes, feeling your supple flesh between his fingers. You moan out at the sensation, the noise spurring him on. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding and tugging at his joggers, hoping he’ll get the hint and remove them.

“‘ve wanted to come on these tits since I first saw it in a porno,” Jack reveals, still mesmerized by your chest. “Thought about it a hundred times.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Come on my tits all you want, but you have to fuck me first.”

“Guess your Saturday night wasn’t so boring after all,” Jack says before he stands from the bed and tugs his pants off. He joins you again, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing over your face. He grinds against you, his clothed cock sliding against your damp panties in a way that has you both keening into each others’ mouths. 

“Guess not,” is your reply, cut short by another moan when Jack’s hand claims your chest again.

You move without speaking after that, fueled only by the desire coursing through your veins after years of pining and aching for the other. 

Jack feels you out and eventually discards his own underwear before removing yours, returning to the missionary position that you had assumed as soon as you had first kissed. It’s sweeter this way– and you both need to see the other’s face, to feel their breath mix with your own. Your chests are flush together, your nipples scraping against the defined and broad swoops of his skin. You grind against each other for a few minutes more, his dick sliding between the wet lips of your pussy with nothing blocking it. He groans into your ear as your juices coat his length, eyes closed in a grimace that is completely charged by his pleasure.

“Condom?” is the last thing he asks, with you shaking your head and replying, “Pill.”

He lines himself up, mouth agape with a choked breath as he thrusts into your tight, wet heat. Your head finds the mattress beneath you, your back arching up as he fills you. You can feel his veins sliding against your walls, the blunt and weeping tip of his cock poking at your deepest parts.

He moves like a man possessed and fighting the beast– like he wants to let loose but at the same time, restraining himself. When you tug on his hair, the subtle waves that he’s been growing out over the summer and hiding beneath his hat in every picture you’ve seen, and whine out his name, Jack’s control vanishes.

He starts to piston his hips into your cunt, burying his face into your neck and letting out ecstasy-fueled whimpers each time you clench down. He curses in your ear, voice a little higher than it normally is, and the intimacy and vulnerability of the moment has your heart clenching. 

“J– J–” You chant, mewling as his cockhead drives against the back wall of your pussy in hard thrusts that make your head spin. 

“So good,” he grits out, kissing over your neck and catching your earlobe between his lips for a moment before dropping it. One of his hands is splayed over your hip, the other securely planted next to your head. “So tight.”

“Coming,” you warn, your fingers finding his bicep and clenching, fingernails digging into his skin so much that you won’t be surprised if you break skin. Your voice is high, too, octaves higher because of the pleasure you’re experiencing.

“Fuck, yeah, baby, come on my cock,” Jack pants out, the hand from your hip coming to rub circles over your clit. 

It sends a shock up your spine and has your hips bucking up to meet his, your entire lower half shaking as your climax approaches. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your vision goes spotty when you do come, just seconds after his groaned encouragement. Your entire body tenses, freezing with Jack still inside of you, making it damn near impossible for him to continue pumping his hips. 

He slides from your opening as you’re coming, bringing some of the slick with him in a feeble excuse for a squirt. His dick bobs, hard and an angry red that might be the most beautiful color you’ve ever seen in your hazy, post-orgasmic state.

Jack comes up to straddle your stomach, stripping his cock quickly with a tight fist, chest heaving. You know he wants to come on your chest, having already given him permission, but your mouth opens and your tongue lolls out in an invitation that Jack can’t deny. He shuffles up further on his knees, his whimper sounding pained as his milky cum spurts from the tip of his cock and lands along the flat of your tongue and your lips.

His spurts grow weaker, although he’s still stroking his dick in a fervorous pace, whining a little more at the oversensitivity. His cum makes his way to your chest, just dripping down the length of his shaft and pooling over your tits. 

You reach up with one hand and trace your fingers through the seed, causing Jack to sway a little on top of you at the sight. His cheeks are flushed and pink, eyes blue and clear like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Your fingertips brush your nipple, spreading the cum over it before you bring your hand up to your mouth and suck the remaining liquid off of your skin, swallowing it with a hum.

Jack is off of you in a flash, pulling you on top of his lap and joining your lips. The last of his cum, painted across your tongue in a thin layer, mixes with your spit as he kisses you. He’s desperate, filling your mouth with his tongue until you can barely breathe, tasting himself on you until it’s indistinguishable– where you end and he begins.

It takes a long time for Jack to finally pull away, for you both to come down from your highs and take a breath.

In typical Jack fashion, he can’t stop himself from joking around.

“Trevor’s really going to kill me now,” he says. “There’s a chance he’ll never let us be in the same room again.”

You laugh, knowing already that neither of you will be willing to let this– whatever this is– go just because your brother has something to say about it. “In that case, we’ll just have to sneak away.”

notes: I WANTED TO NAME THIS "BFB" AFTER THE VICTORIOUS SONG SOOOOOO BAD!!!!! but alas. it's best friend's sister. maybe some other time. blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. well now wait that's a good idea...

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

hi!! this is the same anon from earlier and i saw you wanted to write for james potter. and i’m so sorry if you’ve done something similar. so maybe after a quidditch match, win or loss, all james wants to do is lie and bed with reader and hug her. but they’re not dating and he ends up confessing too, still tired, he doesn’t even realize he’s admitted his feelings

thank you again for your time:))

-can i be ‘🎀 anon’? lolol

hi lovely 🎀! thanks for your sweet words and adorable requests 😊 i hope you like it!

pairing: James Potter x reader tags: fluffy fluff, some angst, gn reader if you want word count: 1.9k

Cuddles and Confessions

So close. So bloody close. And to bloody Slytherin to top it off? The defeat stung worse than any other James could remember. 

As he lumbers back up toward the castle after the match, frustrated and furious, some Slytherin fans jeer at him from across the lawns. It pushes him over an edge, and he turns to — well, he’s not sure to what; berate them? beat them up? — a strong hand grabs his shoulder and turns him back around.

“Easy, mate. They’re idiots but they’re not worth it,” Sirius says easily. Sirius of all people being the voice of reason has James realizing maybe he needs to calm down. 

James falling into step with Sirius without a word, the two make their way back up to the castle. 

When they get to the common room, it’s packed with mad and sad-looking Gryffindors consoling each other, complaining about bad calls, bad-mouthing the Slytherins: a typical post-match defeat. 

“Thank Godric,” Sirius sighs, heading immediately to a small table stacked with firewhisky. He grabs two glasses, but James stops him before he fills the second one.

“No thanks, mate. Don’t really feel like the company,” he says, scanning the room. He admits to himself there is one face that would have made him stay, one person whose company was actually the only thing he wanted right now. But he doesn’t see you. So he stalks off, bounding up the stairs to his currently empty dormitory. 

He’s lying on his bed, tossing a ball up and down when he hears a soft knock. 

“What?” he yells, the harshness of his voice even surprising him a bit. Surprise shifts to horror when your beautiful, blushing face peeks around the door. 

“Hi, Jamie,” you say shyly. “I’m sorry. Sirius said you wanted to be alone. I should’ve listened. I didn’t mean to annoy you. I’ll just —” 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he rushes, going over to you and pulling you into his room. “I’m so sorry, love. Please don’t go.” 

You smile a bit at this, looking down at your feet before nodding slightly. 

“Ugh, I’m a prick. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His voice is soft now, warm and enveloping as you look into his pleading eyes. 

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “I get it. Rough night, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, smiling for the first time all day. You had a way of bringing that out in him. 

“Want a hug?” you offer. He nods immediately, internally cringing for being so uncool in front of you.

“Yes please,” he half laughs. 

You step close to him, and even this increased proximity has him reeling. He can’t wait to feel your warmth around him, to smell your hair as he nuzzles into you. 

He’d been hoping to win tonight’s match for more reasons than one. He hated Slytherin for starters. He loved winning for seconds. But also, he had been hoping a Gryffindor victory party could be the perfect place to finally tell you how he feels about you. Firewhisky flowing, adrenaline pumping, maybe he’d finally have the courage he was supposed to have as a Gryffindor and tell you the truth. 

You bring your arms up around his shoulders, pulling him close to you, bringing one hand to his messy hair and scratching comfortingly. James’s large body immediately melts into yours. He hums into the crook of your neck, and you giggle. 

“Thanks for coming to check on me,” he whispers into your shoulder, holding you close. 

“Why would I want to be downstairs wallowing with everyone else when I could wallow with you?” you tease, pulling back slightly to be face to face again. He hates how much he just wants to pull you back into him. 

“Oh, I’m much better company than those wankers,” he plays along. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Seems you’re quite chipper from your greeting.” 

He cringes and whispers “sorry” again. You shake your head quickly, wanting him to know you’re only teasing. 

The silence stretches a bit too long, neither of you knowing what to say. It’s especially awkward because your hands are still on his shoulders, his on your hips. 

“So what were you doing?” you ask, coming up with nothing better. 

“Just lying in bed, wallowing,” he confesses. 

“Sounds fun,” you chuckle. You break apart from him, the tension becoming too much and head over to his bed, plopping down onto it. He laughs and follows, sitting close next to you. “What do you want to do?” you ask, your voice low. “I came to cheer you up, but I think I’m doing a bang up job so far,” you chuckle, scrunching your nose. 

Before thinking about it, James brings his hand up to your face, lightly tracing his finger down your nose for you to relax it. 

“You’re not,” he says earnestly. “I’m already better, just having you here.” He thinks he feels your face warm where his hand still caresses it but pushes the idea down, not wanting it to be wishful thinking. 

“So what do you want to do?” you ask again gently.

“Honestly?” he asks shyly. Nervous was a weird look on him, usually so cocky. 

“Of course,” you giggle in your warmest tones, wanting him to be open with you, relishing in the intimacy you seemed to be building. 

“I want to keep lying in bed wallowing.” 

You stiffen immediately, chiding yourself for misreading his nerves. He wanted you to leave; that’s why he seemed shy. 

James sees — and feels — you tense at his words, and luckily for him, he realizes right away what you’re probably thinking. He continues before he can stop himself, dreading your leaving more than dreading saying something stupid. 

“With you,” he adds hastily. He feels himself blush, hates it, but pushes on. “I want to lie in bed and wallow… with you,” he repeats more softly. 

“Oh,” is all you can think to respond.

“I mean, just hang out, you know. I just… you just… I just like hanging out with you. And even just your hug made me feel better,” he rambles sweetly. 

You smile and pull away from him a bit. Before he can be disappointed, though, you’re pulling him with you as you shuffle further back onto the bed, lying down and bringing him horizontal with you by the shoulder. 

You’re lying next to each other, both tense, facing the ceiling, your sides grazing but nothing more. You look over at him, and he looks at you, and you both look away like idiots. 

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself he literally just told you he wanted to be here with you, clinging to that to give you the courage for what you were about to do. You turn toward him and bring your hand up to his hair. His eyes snap to yours. First they show shock but that quickly melts to adoration. Then they show nothing at all as they close in comforted bliss. You chuckle softly and see the corners of his mouth tug up at the sound. 

“Feels nice,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you whisper too. He just nods. 

You shuffle closer to him, and he turns his body towards yours. Your arm is cramped now between your two close bodies, so you do the reasonable thing for comfort, you tell yourself, and wrap your arm under his shoulders. His face coming to the crook of your neck, you miss the huge smile that breaks out on it at the contact. 

He’s lying on your shoulder now, the rest of his body flush with yours. Your arm is around him, your hand coming up to continue playing with his hair. James brings his arm over you, hugging you close, and you place your arm on top of his. 

It crosses James’s mind that friends don’t cuddle. But he stops his internal monologue in time to savour the moment rather than over-analyse it, which he’s bound to do later.

You just lie there in silence for  a bit, the tension having eased considerably. 

In your warm, comfortable cocoon, you bring your face closer to the top of his head on your shoulder and nuzzle him a bit. He just hums in response. 

“You’re comfy,” he says. It sounds muffled, his mouth squished against your shoulder. You laugh, and it shakes him up and down the slightest bit. 

James loves the feeling of your vibrating chest just below him. He can’t help himself and tickles you where his hand rests near your ribcage. You laugh louder. You hold down his arm to stop him and playfully shake him off a bit to protect yourself from more tickling. His grip tightens in response, and he’s almost on top of you by the time he’s done adjusting himself. 

“No, no, don’t go,” he chuckles. “I’ll stop.” 

Your laughter has mostly subsided, but your voice is raspy as you respond, “Promise?” He nods into your shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay if you behave.” 

He laughs, squeezes you, whispers, “Promise.”

Any tension that had been left has dissipated completely, and you fall into easy chat as you hold each other close. Your hand continues playing with his hair, tugging it when he says something stupid. His arm draped over you occasionally squeezing you more tightly whenever either of you says something nice. You go over the highlights of the match, lamenting the result. Without realizing it, you start talking about any and everything else, and by the time the conversation lulls for the first time, both of you chuckling lightly, James wonder how much time has gone by. Not enough, he thinks to himself, wishing this would go on forever. 

The quiet, your hand in his hair, your warmth radiating around his body, it all soothes him into a half slumber. It washes over him how exhausted his body is from the match, how tense it had been from the fury at its result.

“This is nice,” he slurs. 

“Mmhmm,” you hum. 

“I’m not even mad anymore.” He sounds astounded even in his sleepy tones. You chuckle. 

“Good.” 

“Mmmm. We’ll prank the Slytherins tomorrow. And I’ll think of another time to tell you how I feel.” Your hand halts its motions. James is still completely relaxed, and you realize he’s pretty much half asleep, not truly realizing what he’s saying.

You don’t want to take advantage of him in this state, but you want to be honest with him too, and he clearly wanted to talk to you about whatever this was. 

So, you warmly whisper, “How do you feel, Jamie?”

“I love you,” he mumbles. You’re melting at his words, and you can’t wait till tomorrow to say them back. You shift your weight so you’re more facing James than under him, and this rattles him a bit more awake. His drowsy eyes are heavy initially but then they startle slightly. Before he can worry or regret, you hold his face gently in both your hands, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. 

“James…” He just looks deeply into your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, not saying anything. “I love you, too.” 

His face shifts as if in slow motion. His eyebrows rise; his lips smile widely; his eyes crinkle.

“You love me?” He sounds equal parts giddy and disbelieving. 

“Yeah, I love you, you grump.” He chuckles. “You love me?” you echo.

He takes his time responding. Scanning your features adoringly. Eventually, finally, calmly and assuredly he says again, “I love you,” nodding as he closes the little distance between you. 

Your kiss is slightly awkward at first, your lips smiling automatically at his words before realizing they’re being called on to take on new, intoxicating shapes. 

[prentissluvr]

you'd dance with me? — sam winchester

for : 200+ followers event [ closed ] ➖⟢ pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : fluff, light angst ➖⟢ cw : reader gets sort of stood up, alcohol, reader is tipsy, swearing, (not) unrequited love, barely edited ➖⟢ wc : 1.4K prompt : telling them they deserve better (and silently wanting to be the one who gives it to them)

the man from the bar, james, isn’t your exact type. no one is except for sam, because you’re irrevocably in love with him. but since you can’t have him, and you’re dying to have a fun night without every second being consumed by thoughts of him, how much you love him, and how much you’re sure he doesn’t love you back, you turn to flirting with the nearest handsome single man.

and that means james. james has been nice enough and asked you to call him jamie, because “that’s what his friends call him.” dean gave you an impressed look as you walked past with “jamie” on your arm, and you winked at him, feeling playful and hopeful for a fun night after a tiring hunt. dean grinned back and sam barely gave any indication he noticed you before you settled at the bar and launched into a decently boring conversation with james about his corporate job and the fake life that you spin up for him.

that was over half an hour ago and it’s been at least twenty minutes since james excused himself to the bathroom with the promise that he’d be right back. you know he’s not coming back, but you stay rooted to your seat anyway.

it takes a few more minutes before sam appears, taking the previous man’s spot by your side.

“he left, didn’t he?” you ask, forlorn and not even bothering to look at sam as he settles next to you. sam cringes and nods. you sigh, not having to turn your head to see the movement through the corner of your eye as he confirms your suspicions. sam wonders if he should tell you that the asshole left with someone else. you deserve to know, but he’s hyperaware that it’ll only add to the sting. 

he takes in the look on your face and the empty shot glass that you fiddle with, and he immediately knows that you’re much more upset by this than you normally would be. of course, the situation is completely shitty, for anyone, but on any other day, you’d probably brush it off by looking for someone better or heading back to sit with him and dean for some fun with them (if dean’s still around by then). today, you’re alone and at least an extra shot or two in since the guy left, likely making you more tipsy than you intended to get tonight. more than that, the frown on your lips is easy to see and read, far different from the smile you normally give him when you’re pretending not to care. tonight you don't attempt hide it.

“you okay?” he finally asks. you sigh again and surprise him a bit by dropping your head on his shoulder. this kind of touch between the two of you isn’t abnormal, but these days it feels like you’re avoiding it a little, which sort of kills him. it takes you a moment to answer, but when you do, sam’s heart clenches.

“i just wanted to dance with someone tonight.” your voice is sad and candid from the removal of your filter by the alcohol in your system. for a moment, sam is blindingly angry with the asshole that stood you up, and he has to hold back a vehement curse before recentering his focus on you and the sad pull between your eyebrows. he just clenches his jaw and lets you say what you need to before he lets any of the million things he wants to tell you fall from his lips. “he said he’d dance with me when he got back… then he didn’t come back. d’you think it’s stupid i wanted to dance? think that’s why he left?” 

now sam’s heart is plain-old breaking for you. he wants to ring the neck of the stupid man that made you question yourself like this, made your voice sound so dejected. then he wants to sweep you up in his arms and hold you close and kiss your forehead and tell you that it’s the sweetest, most endearing thing in the world that you want to dance. tell you that he’ll dance with you every night despite the fact that he can’t do much more than hold you and sway with you. tell you that he’s completely and enduringly in love with you. he discovered that recently, though he figures it’s been true for a long while now.

he has to settle for something a little more tame because you’re upset over another guy, because you're a little tipsy, and because he can’t lose your friendships if those words don’t come across well.

sam puts his arm around your shoulders and you sink further into him. “if that’s why he left, he’s an idiot. anyone in their right mind would trip over their own feet to dance with you. no one in their right mind would leave you– someone like you, sitting here alone,” he says your name so soft and loving that he thinks he’s given himself away until he remembers you’re not picking up on everything right now, “he didn’t deserve you. you deserve a whole lot better than that ass.” i’d be so good to you, he thinks.

“yeah,” you agree, still sounding a little despondent.

“if you– if you still wanna dance, you’ve got a willing partner,” sam forges ahead, anything to make you smile.

“mm, where? james probably left with someone else, for all i know.” he doesn’t like that man’s name on your lips, and maybe you’re a little more drunk than he thought, because you’re not getting the hint as quickly as you normally would. if you were sober and trying not to act upset, you’d say that all with a playful tone to your voice to tease him for offering. right now, you just sound sort of unbelieving.

“you know,” sam responds, keeping his voice just as serious as yours instead of matching that tease like he normally would.

this time you let a bit of humor slip into your voice, but it’s still sort of pessimistic, “what? are you gonna drag dean away from whatever girl he’s found just to cheer up my sorry ass?” sam has to laugh a little at that thought, because it’s a silly image and almost funny how you refuse to see him as an option.

“your ass isn’t sorry,” sam smiles all soft when that pulls a half-hearted snort from you. his voice is still gentle as he finally says, “i’m right here, you know.”

when you tilt your head up to look at his face, and finally, finally, he gets your eyes on his, he almost melts to the floor. you’re looking at him, sweet and soft with your eyebrows pinched together like you’re not sure if he meant it. then there’s that little hint of hope and joy swimming around in the pretty pools of your eyes and it sets his heart afire, just like that. you’ve done just about nothing special, but to him you’ve done everything.

“you’d wanna dance with me?” you say it like you can’t believe it, like that’s exactly what you’d really been hoping for all night and it takes everything in sam’s power not to swoop down and kiss you right then and there. he’d wanna do a whole lot more than dance with you, but it’s a wonderful, glorious, honey-sweet way to start, he thinks.

“of course,” he grins at you, and that’s all it takes to pull a big smile over your features too. that’s just about everything sam could ever ask for, and it brings a flood of relief over him. he just can’t help himself when he asks, “that is, if you’d want to dance with me? i’m sure i’m not your ideal dancing partner for the night, but hopefully i’ll do.”

“of course i want to dance with you, sam,” you say, so blatantly honest that it makes his heart hurt, “and that’s not true.” you won’t explain what you mean by that, so sam stands with you and gladly lets you use him for balance. it’s not true that he’s not your ideal dancing partner? is that what you meant? he certainly hopes so, because that must mean, by default, he is your ideal dancing partner, and you wanted to dance with him tonight, not this awful james.

maybe you love him back a little, he hopes, as your wrap your arms around his middle and let him sway you back and forth, all gentle and smiling.

[its-time-to-write]

three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life

I am apparently incapable of writing anything short. This has no plot. I think the only warnings are like swearing and innuendo. It is literally just Jamie and the reader being in love. I cannot stress enough how little plot this has. Enjoy.

three times ‘cause I’ve waited my whole life It’s one of Richmond’s biggest games. They’re facing Man City on their turf, an away game, and it’s a big deal.

It’s not important in that it really matters to their status in the premier league, but important because it’s Man City. Jamie has thrown himself completely into training, so you rarely see him except to eat dinner and then fall asleep, his arms around your waist as you watch tv, fingers combing through his hair. He’s awake before you are, but as soon as you hear him switch on the bathroom light, you make your way downstairs to make him breakfast. The team nutritionist had a strict diet for him, one modified by Roy to account for all the extra training. You rub sleep from your eyes as you brew a pot of tea, waiting for Jamie to come downstairs.

Arms snake around you as you wait at the stove for the tea.“You don’t have to do this,” Jamie says, kissing your neck. You smile and reach back to him.

“I know,” you reply, “It’s just the only time I really get to see you.”

Jamie pulls away and turns you around. You see that he’s frowning.

“I haven’t been a good boyfriend recently, have I?” he asks.

You smile, lacing your arms around his neck. “Jamie. This is just a part of life. You have a big game, you disappear for a while, I miss you and I adjust. You finish, win or lose, and we’re back. I knew what I was signing up for.”

He puts his hands on your wrists. “Yeah, but, like, we’re supposed to be talking to each other and shit. And I’m so tired all the time that I can’t think of anything to say. I also’ve been a shit listener. Can’t even remember what we talked about yesterday.”

You sigh, move his hands back to your waist, and then reach up to smooth the furrow in his brow.

“Remember when I had all that extra work last month and ended up working 60 hours a week because of everything that had to be done? I was up late every night, and all you did was bring me food and kiss me, then you left me alone. I think the longest we were together was when you let me sit with my legs on your lap for two hours. I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Yeah but-”

You cut him off: “Jamie. It’s just life right now. It’s not forever. It’s ok.”

He looks like he has more to say, but is interrupted by the kettle whistling. You give him a quick kiss and then point to his breakfast on the counter. You sit on the kitchen island while he eats, with your head on his shoulder until Roy comes.

—

Here’s the thing; no one knows you and Jamie are together. Sure, Roy knows. But Jamie loves Roy. Keeley knows. But Jamie said you’d love Keeley. (You did). Ted and Beard know, but only because they saw you two walking around the Richmond green late, late at night. (What they were doing on the Richmond green that late is beyond you, but hey). It wasn’t long after that that Jamie put a picture of you two up in his locker, so then all of AFC Richmond knew. But you weren’t public public. You had yet to show up in a tabloid or be seen with Jamie at a game or public event. You went to his games, absolutely, but you stayed in the stands, not the box.

He always got you a spot as close to the field as possible, but you would always meet up with Keeley and Rebecca after games to rendezvous somewhere else later. 

You don’t mind. It doesn’t feel like Jamie is ashamed of you, especially because the people he cares about know. But you also know that you can handle it, and if he wants to go public and kiss you in the stands after a win, you would be ok with that. (You might be more than ok with that).

But as it is, no one knows about you. He knows where you stand on it, so the ball’s in his court. It’s been a year of this, but you just wonder how long it’s going to last.

—

Finally, finally it’s the week of the game. You had been staying in Manchester with Jamie’s mum, which was absolutely terrifying at first. It was not your first time meeting her, just your first time staying with her without Jamie present. You left a day before the team, so when they arrived Jamie sneaked away to come visit. You are sitting in comfortable silence on his mum’s porch looking up at the night sky, when he turns to you and says, “do you love me?”

You’re taken a little aback. “What kind of question is that?” you say. “Of course I love you.”

Jamie’s forehead is all scrunched up again, like it was that early morning. “What if I fucked my leg so badly I could never play football again?”

You laugh. “Not sure if you’ve noticed babe, but I’m not really a big football person. I’m more of a you person, so I guess there’s some overlap.”

Jamie is still weirdly nervous. “What if I play football till I’m forty, and you barely see me like it’s been? What if I’m always on the road and always training and all we get are dinners and shitty 3am breakfasts?”

He’s removed his arm from your shoulders at this point and you shiver, puffing out a breath into the cold air. He notices without saying a word and drapes his jacket around you.

“Jamie,” you reply slowly, trying to formulate your thoughts, “where is this all coming from? You know I love you. We’ve been together for a year, and this has never been an issue before.” As you’re speaking, you’re seized by a sudden, terrible thought: “Are you breaking up with me?”

The words tumble out so fast, you’re not sure he hears you until he’s looking at you, aghast. 

“No, are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” you reply. “But you’re acting all weird, and we’ve been together for an entire year and that’s the longest you’ve dated anyone and I just thought that maybe this was your way of letting me know gently that you’re over me.”

Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest.

Jamie breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh. No. I’m not ending things. I want to be with you forever. I just get all freaked out in me head before games like this, and it’s been fuckin weird coming home, and I just want to win, you know, so that way all this time away is worth it.” He pulls you close to him again and you can feel his heartbeat slowing down to a normal pace, in sync with your own. 

You sit there till his mum comes out to remind him that it’s time to go get some rest, and it’s not until you’re half asleep in Jamie’s childhood bed that your mind replays his words:

I want to be with you forever.

—

It’s game day. You send Jamie a quick love you! text and then slip into your Jamie Tartt jersey. It’s from one of his old kits so it’s a little worn, but you always put it into his laundry pile so it comes out of the wash smelling like him. It’s not something anyone would notice, but you know, and it makes you smile. You get to be in the stands and know that Jamie Tartt loves you and you love him, and at the end of the day he’s the one you get to hold. You give yourself a shake, and open your phone to figure out where you’re meeting Keeley.

—

“And Richmond wins, 3-2 with a smashing goal by number 9 himself, Jamie Tartt!”

You’re screaming and jumping in the stands, overwhelmed by the fact that we won, we won, we won! The Richmond team are piling onto each other, Dani on Isaac’s back, Sam and Jan Maas jumping up and down like kids. You lose sight of Jamie in the mix.

“Well Arlo, it looks like Richmond has once again, exceeded all of our low expectations.”

“That’s right Chris, all thanks to Jamie Tartt’s brilliant goal. Looks like he’s having a good time celebrating with the Richmond lads. Wonder what they’ll get up to tonight? But what’s this? It looks like Tartt has broken away from his teammates and is running to the stands! He’s stopped in front of a fan and it looks like he is kissing a very lucky Richmond fan full on the mouth!”

“Have you ever been so caught up in a moment that you’ve made out with a stranger, Arlo?”

“Can’t say that I have, Chris. Can’t say that I have.”

It all happens so fast, that you don’t even know how to process it. One moment you can’t find Jamie and the next he is leaping over the stands, catching you in his arms, and kissing you in front of the whole stadium as if no one else is around. When you finally pull away, breathless, he takes your hand and helps you hop over the wall onto the pitch. Not usually allowed, but you suppose they’ll let it slide for football’s golden boy. AFC Richmond has caught up to Jamie, and you’re all on the field, screaming your heads off out of the sheer joy of winning.

—

“You’re coming tonight, yeah?” Isaac asks you as you wait for Jamie by the team bus. It’s the day after the Man City game, and you’re back in Richmond with a plan to hit the town yet again, as though the night before wasn’t enough for them. (You actually wouldn’t know, because you were in a very nice hotel room with a certain striker).

“Yeah, you know the only reason we invited him anywhere is in the hopes that you’ll finally be able come along,” Colin adds.

Any story of Richmond’s win had a somewhat fuzzy picture attached of Jamie kissing you in the stands with some variation of the title “Tartt’s mystery girl.”

You laugh. “Yes, we’ll be there. It’ll be nice to actually be out and about with you guys. Family dinners are fun, but there’s more to life.”

Once you found out that Jamie’s whole team knew you existed, you made him invite them over for dinner once a month. It’s one of your favorite things, especially because they all bring food to share. When it’s warm you do pool parties and when it’s cold you play bracket uno. It was nice to meet Jamie’s family, whether he’ll admit that’s what they are or not.

“You ready, babe?” Jamie asks as he slings his arm around you.

“BYE TED!” you yell. “Ok. Now I’m ready.”

— 

Sam closed his restaurant special for you all, and turned it into like a private club. You say like because it is, at its core, a restaurant. However, under Isaac’s supervision and creative design, he apparently has transformed Ola’s through rearranged furniture, dimmed lighting, and music into a place where AFC Richmond can celebrate their win without feeling crowded by strangers. You’re secretly grateful, because clubs are not really your scene. You’ll get all dressed up, sure, but you never know what to do with yourself once you’re there. 

Speaking of getting dressed up, you were feeling yourself. You had a light blue mini dress, with an asymmetrical neckline and a single puffed sleeve. It was more a-line than bodycon, but hey. You like a little bit of a twirl when you spin. Your absolute favorite part though was that you were wearing two-inch silver block heels, with straps around your ankles. The dress plus the shoes made your legs look magical. 

You and Jamie are in the bathroom getting ready, you fixing your makeup and him fixing his hair. He half-turns to you and points to his hair with a questioning look. “Lookin’ good,” you smile, and he smiles back.

“Oh, babe,” he says, tweaking his hair one final time, “I left my sunglasses back at the locker room, and I was wonderin’ if you’d be ok getting them with me before we head to the party? I just don’t want Bumbercatch stealing them.”

“Why would Bumbercatch steal them?” you ask.

Jamie shrugs. “Something about ‘no name, fair game.’ That’s how Jan Maas lost his favorite socks.” 

You shudder. Why Bumbercatch would want Jan Maas’ dirty old socks, you have no idea. They must be really amazing.

You reply, “Yeah sure, I hate being too early to things anyway,” as Jamie absentmindedly kisses you on the forehead with a “thanks babe,” as he heads downstairs.

—

You don’t live far from the Richmond pitch, so you’re walking across the dark parking lot in no time.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Jamie says.

He’s swinging your hands as you walk. He looks nice, the sleeves of his cream shirt rolled up. Nice pants, nice shoes. Nice ass. 

“Yeah, of course,” you say, momentarily distracted by the fact that this man is going to get laid tonight. 

“No, I mean you’re always down for what-fuckin-ever, and you just let things bounce off you. And you like me, for my personality for some fucking reason? And I think about you all the time, when I’m gone or when, like, I have early training with Roy. And you make laugh because you stopped being afraid to be yourself around me. I just like you. And I meant what I said the other day, I do want to be with you forever. Not to freak you out or whatever.”

He’s stopped right at the doors and he looks so uncomfortable and earnest in a way that you’ve never seen before.

“I’m not freaked out, Jaim,” you say. “I love you, and you know I’m in it to win it with you. Now, let’s get those sunglasses and for the love of god, please don’t act this weird tonight.”

This elicits a chuckle, and he nods in concession. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The halls are dark and quiet as you walk to the Richmond locker room. It smells clean, for once. Like lavender. There’s a faint glow coming from the doors and Jamie pushes open the doors to the most magical thing you have ever seen.

There are candles on the benches and twinkle lights strung across the lockers. There’s a bouquet of flowers in the middle of the room and as you turn to Jamie, awestuck look on your face, you see him kneeling behind you, small black box in hand.

“Jamie,” you say.

“Yes, love,” he replies.

“What are you doing.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it comes out more wobbly than you’d care to admit.

He cracks a smile. “Eh, I hope it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.”

You can feel a fucking tear forming in your eye and you will it to go away. You refuse to have streaky foundation.

“Love of my life,” Jamie begins.

“Yes,” you say.

“Oi, you’ve gotta let me finish.”

“Right, sorry, as you were.” You think your face is going to split in half with the size of your smile.

He takes a breath then continues, “there’s no one else I’d rather have shitty 3am breakfasts with, no one else I’d rather beat at MarioKart, and no one else I’d rather do life with. Will you m-”

He’s cut of by you kissing him like you have never kissed him before. After a moment, he pulls away and asks, “Is that a yes?”

You can’t help it, the furrow in his brow gets you every time so you laugh and reply, “Of course it’s a yes, you dummy!”

Jamie smiles and then yells, “Lads, she said yes!” and the blinds go up from the coaches office as the entire AFC Richmond team storms into the locker room. Dani and Richard are spraying champagne in the air as people hug you and slap Jamie on the back. 

You find his hand amid the chaos and squeeze it. 

“Can’t believe I were so nervous about this,” he says into your ear.

“Can’t believe you think you beat me at MarioKart,” you respond.

“Oi, we are not getting into this again-”

“There’s only one way to settle this.”

Jamie looks at you, then to all your friends celebrating, then back to you. “Think they’ll even notice we’re gone?”

You shake my head. “Nah,” you say, “let’s get out of here.”

Jamie smiles at me as you slip through six different lynx scents out the door. “You’re going down, Mrs. Tartt.”

“Only one of us is going down tonight, Mr. Tartt, and I can assure you it is not me!”

“You can say that again.” Jamie sticks out his tongue and wiggles his eyebrows at you, and your laughter echoes up into the night sky.

[sylvies-chen]

my mother said something really interesting about this episode (yes, she also watches the show and is a huge fan of dani rojas just like me) and it’s been stuck in my head ever since. she said: “it seems to me like this whole episode was about intimacy”

and like… yeah! that’s exactly it! the amsterdam trip set the perfect scene for it too, because people are normally a little more lax on vacation, a little more adventurous, a little more lenient and able to put themselves out there.

you have the pretty obvious contenders for this point: rebecca having her little fling with that nameless bald man and learning to open herself up to real connection and intimacy again, to be able to envision for herself a life and a love that is unmoored to her past with rupert and is able to exist in its own little intimate pocket. you’ve got jamie and roy learning to trust in each other, to be intimate and vulnerable about their pasts and about their present situations too (especially for roy, who is still right now a man who would rather break up with the woman he loves that admit, that he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her). and you also have, of course, the true soul of the episode, which was colin and trent’s discussion, and how colin feels that ache to be able to show the more intimate parts of him to the world the way heterosexual couples do, to be able to merge his intimate personal life with his fun if not a little reserved professional life. how to achieve a balance between intimacy and privacy.

and then you have the less obvious ones maybe, like higgins and will going to the jazz club— which isn’t really that hard to decipher when you think about it. it is, after all, where higgins opens up about an intimate detail of his love for jazz, and then gets to share his previously very intimate and private activity of playing the bass with the crowd. he even starts the night complaining of how exposed their seats feel, and ends up standing on the stage by the end of it. and, of course, will potentially had a threesome. so there’s a kind of intimacy for you. the one that truly isn’t obvious is the team pillow fight which honestly, I think is just a way of showing that sometimes a more intimate, fun yet indoor activity makes for better memories than something like a sex show or a club, which are both very grand and exciting yet impersonal and detached kinds of activities.

then of course you have ted, who is sort of lacking what my mother called an intimacy with himself. he’s been feeling a little lost, a little “stuck” as he put it. and I don’t think he understood why until this episode, until this adventure he went on with the museum and the american themed restaurant. it was a way for him to spend quality time with himself, to be alone with his thoughts while still not totally unable to absorb his surroundings and learn something. and in exploring his more intimate thoughts he was able to think of something really good! something that will make him a better coach!

and yeah, when it’s framed in this way I think this episode was sooooo killer. I love seeing people open up a little bit, to show these deep and intimate parts of their being. it’s so so so good.

[zegrasdrysdale]

Wyatt Johnston request!!

Y/n giving Wyatt some birthday "fun" celebrations after Wyatt was on a hatty watch and for winning game 4 on his birthday....smut included please

[ it’s supposed to be fun turning 21 ] w. johnston

paring : Wyatt Johnston x fem!reader

summary : the boys take Wyatt out after the game 4 win for his 21st birthday. Wyatt’s girlfriend goes with him but she has her own celebration plans in store for Wyatt that might not be able to wait until they get back to the hotel

warning(s) : smut ! oral (m receiving), drunk sex, semi public sex, bathroom sex, p in v unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), alcohol consumption and drunkenness

author’s note : got these two requests and i decided to combine them since they were so similar :)) enjoy bc i very much got carried away (pls pretend i posted this around wyatt’s birthday bc it’s sooo late but i started writing it on his birthday )

༺═──────────────═༻

She knew before his first goal that it was a special game since it's the night before Wyatt's 21st birthday. She's been waiting months for this night since she turned 21 in December. It makes tonight even better that Dallas is playing in game four of the second round of the playoffs too.

Wyatt scores again in the second period and she is on her feet for the rest of the game just in case he gets the hatty. It would be the perfect way to end being 20. He gives the puck to Steel on an empty net attempt though and that’s the end of his last game at 20 years old.

That’s Wyatt. He could’ve had a hat trick in his last game as a 20 year old but he let Sam have his first goal of the playoffs instead. So selfless. That’s her boyfriend though and it’s one of the reasons she loves him.

She goes back to the hotel where the Stars are staying to wait for Wyatt. It’s not quite midnight in Colorado so they have to wait a little bit before taking Wyatt out.

She changes out of her borrowed stolen Stars jersey into something a little more bar friendly. The Stars jersey and leggings turns into a skintight black mini dress with thin straps and heels. The dress accentuates her curves and pushes her breasts up. She pulls out the double French braids that she had in to make her hair naturally wavy then touches up her makeup.

A key is used in the door and it’s pushes open about 30 minutes after she gets back to the hotel. She peeks her head out of the bathroom and watches Wyatt walk into the room. He isn’t alone. Pavs, Tyler, Jamie, Roope, Miro and Logan walk in with him. She smiles and walks out of the bathroom.

“Hi, handsome,” she says to get Wyatt’s attention. “Nice goals tonight.”

Wyatt looks up from his phone and smiles when he sees his girlfriend. “Like what you saw, pretty girl?” he asks as she approaches him.

“I’ve very much enjoyed all seven of your playoff goals this season,” she laughs. “And three last season. Good job at scoring ten playoff goals before turning 21.”

One of his hands falls to her waist and he pulls her flush against him before crashing their lips together. His other hand rests on her lower back and he dips her backward a bit. She smiles and cups his jaw with both her hands.

The kiss heats up and for a second, she forgets that six other people are in the room. It’s not until one of said other people clears his throat that she remembers that they’re not alone.

Wyatt breaks the kiss and looks at his teammates. She turns her own head to look at the other hockey players in the room.

“The six of you insisted that you come back to my room with me knowing she was here and I scored two goals tonight while also being the eighth player in NHL history to score 10 playoff goals before turning 21,” he says. “I apologize for getting a little carried away.”

“A little?” Tyler asks. “You were trying to eat her face, Johnny.” She giggles at Tyler’s comment and looks up at Wyatt. He stands her back up but doesn’t let her go.

Her boyfriend rolls his eyes and asks, “What time are we going out and who else is coming? There’s no way that it is just the six of you taking me out tonight. Not after the win.”

Jamie, who was typing away on his phone, says, “All the guys that can legally drink are coming, which I’m pretty sure it’s everyone once the clock strikes midnight in an hour.” The Stars captain looks at her. “You’re 21, right?”

“Turned 21 in December,” she explains.

“Good,” Jamie replies. “We leave at quarter of twelve so we are at the bar by midnight to buy Johnny here his first legal drink. I’m giving Pavs that honor, but I’m buying his second drink as his captain.”

The guys laugh then begin fighting over who else is going to buy Wyatt a drink. All she got from the entire argument is that Wyatt is going to get very drunk tonight and will be very hungover when they wake up for their early afternoon flight back to Dallas tomorrow.

In the forty minutes between when Wyatt got back to the room and when they leave, more Stars players make their way into the hotel room after showering or eating something. It’s not a very big room and there are nearly 20 grown men standing around. She spends the entire time in Wyatt’s arms or sitting on his lap to save some space.

At quarter of twelve, she and the Stars leave the hotel in the van that they all pitched in to rent so they don’t take the team bus to the bar. Pavs is the designated driver so they can make it back in one piece. Ten minutes later, the van arrives at a bar in downtown Denver.

Considering it’s a Monday night in the middle of May, the bar is very crowded. Maybe it’s people who went out to watch the game or maybe it’s people that decided to just go drinking on a Monday night. Either way, it’s very crowded and the music is loud. ESPN is on multiple TVs so the game was on at some point. Their group gets stared at as they find a large high top table to sit at.

Wyatt sits at the head of the table. She sits on one side of him and Pavs sits across from her. Tyler sits on the other side of her and Jamie is on the other side of Pavs.

A waitress walks up to the table with her pad and says, “I guess you’re all here to celebrate your win. I guess you’re also here for his birthday.” She nods at Wyatt. “You guys still have like three minutes before I can legally serve him a drink.”

Jamie speaks up. “Well, by the time the drinks get to the table, it’ll be midnight and he’ll be 21,” he comments.

“Touché,” she replies with a smile. “What can I get you guys?”

They go around the table and order their drinks. Pavs orders for Wyatt since technically, it’s not midnight yet and he can’t order his own drink. He’s got two minutes before he can do that. IDs are checked, including Wyatt’s to make sure he isn’t lying about turning 21 in a minute.

Then she’s off with their drink orders. Pavs has the first round.

Tyler is the first to acknowledge when the clock strikes midnight. He lets the entire bar know when he screams, “He’s 21!” Hoots, hollers, and happy birthdays sound from around the table. Wyatt turns a bright shade of red but has a huge smile on his face as he thanks his teammates.

She smiles at her birthday boy. Wyatt eventually looks at her. “Happy birthday, baby,” she says to him.

“Thank you, my pretty girl,” Wyatt replies.

She hops out of her seat so she can give Wyatt a hug. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and she pecks his jaw. “We have a lot to celebrate tonight,” she mumbles against his ear. “Just so you know.”

He looks down at her with a grin on his face. “I can’t wait.”

Their drinks all arrive about two minutes later. The guys all hold their drinks up and Jamie makes a little toast.

“To Wyatt Johnston’s 21st birthday,” he says. “He is just getting started. That being said, here’s to us going up in the series and being one game away from moving onto the next round. Let’s win it on Wednesday and make it to the Western Conference finals for the second year in a row.”

The boys cheers their drinks and take a sip. Wyatt downs his in a few chugs. Some of the guys are impressed and others are surprised. She gives Wyatt a knowing look so he can relax because it’s so obvious that he’s had drinks before.

Jamie orders a round of shots, and everyone orders their favorite shot. Tyler gets the round of drinks after that and everyone is two drinks and a shot deep already. They’ve been at the bar for maybe fifteen minutes, ten of those where Wyatt has been legal.

A couple of the single guys go and try to find a girl for the night, but it’s rough being a Dallas Star in Avalanche territory. She just laughs at their attempts as the alcohol she has been drinking begins to run through her veins.

An hour later, things are spinning even though she’s in a chair. She’s had four drinks and five shots. All were very strong and she doesn’t have the highest tolerance. Wyatt has a higher tolerance, or maybe it’s because he’s several inches taller than her and weighs more than she does.

Wyatt excuses himself to go get a drink at the bar. Her eyes linger on him as he weaves his way through the crowd to get his drink. She sips her drink as her eyes fall to his ass. It looks good in the dress pants he never got out of when he got back to the hotel after the game. The button up he’s wearing hugs his arms in the right places as he leans against the bar.

She crosses her legs as she imagines both articles of clothing on their hotel room floor while they celebrate the win and his birthday.

Suddenly, she isn’t sure if she’ll make it back to the hotel. The room gets hot very quickly and she presses her lips in a line. Her mind betrays her despite every attempt to stop thinking about her plans for when they leave the bar in a few hours.

He comes back with a handful of drinks for the table, including another drink for her since she was almost finished her drink when he walked away. Wyatt hands her the glass and her eyes focus on his hand around it. All she can think about is his fingers in her hair while his dick is in her mouth.

She really cannot stop thinking about Wyatt fucking her and she’s had enough. She needs him. Now. Not in a few hours when they leave.

“Wy,” she says to get his attention. He hums as he sips his new drink. “Wyatt.” He finally puts his glass down and looks at her. She glances around the table. “I, um … need to use the bathroom. Can you show me where it is?”

“It’s back there,” Wyatt replies as he points over his right shoulder. “Big neon sign that says ‘restroom’. Can’t miss it.”

With a pout, she tries again. This time with intention in her voice. “Wyatt,” she sternly says. “Please come with me to the bathroom because there are so many people here right now and I don’t want to go alone.”

Wyatt turns his full attention to her and she raises her eyebrows. A lightbulb goes off in his head and he gets up from his seat. “Right, okay,” he stammers. “Let’s go.”

Happy that he finally got the idea, she hops down from her seat at the table and takes the hand that Wyatt offers her. Neither of them says a word to anyone at the table. They just walk toward the bathroom.

Luckily, it’s a single stall bathroom with a lock on the door. She checks her surroundings to make sure no one is looking before dragging Wyatt into the ladies room behind her.

She presses Wyatt against the door to shut it and clicks the lock so no one walks in. Wyatt takes her face in his hands and crashes their lips together in a heated kiss. He ravishes her mouth with his and it only makes things worse for her. She whines into his mouth and he swallows the sound.

It’s probably because she’s drunk, but she’s very turned on right now. With every kiss, she feels the need to cross her legs just for some pressure on her core.

Her fingers trail down his chest and torso until they land on the belt around Wyatt’s waist. Without looking, she undoes the clasp and unbuttons his pants. Wyatt groans when her hand slides into his boxers and wraps her hand around his hardening dick. With a flick of her wrist, she begins to pump his cock.

Wyatt hums before he breaks the kiss. He rests his forehead against her and pants, “Baby, I cannot come in these pants because I don’t know how much longer we will be out for and I don’t want to sit around with come in my pants.”

“No one said anything about coming in pants,” she says. Wyatt is about to say something but she drops to her knees on the tile floor of the bathroom before he could get a word out. It’s probably cleaner than the men’s bathroom floor but it’s still a bathroom floor.

She pulls his pants and boxers down until they pool at his ankles. His cock springs free and nearly hits her in the face. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she takes him in her hand. Wyatt leans back against the door and mumbles something under his breath.

After a few slow pumps, she wraps her lips around the leaking tip. Wyatt’s fingers slide into her hair and he grips her locks very lightly as she takes him in her mouth. She is careful not to choke herself on his dick so she has to use her hand to make up some of what doesn’t fit in her mouth.

Wyatt lets out soft pants as she begins to suck him. The back of his head softly hit the door and he looks down at her with his eyes. “Fuck,” he sighs. “Never thought that I would see you on your knees for me in a bar bathroom.”

She pulls off of him and wipes away some saliva that has started to roll down her chin. “I would get on my knees for you literally anywhere,” she admits. Wyatt smiles and she wraps her lips around him again with a wink.

Soft pants pass Wyatt’s lips the closer he gets to his orgasm. His fingers run through her hair and she hums around him. One hand rests at the base of his dick and the other rests in his thigh above his knee to keep herself steady.

Heat pools at her core the longer she stays on her knees. She can only imagine what she looks like on her knees on the bathroom floor of a bar. Her knees do begin to hurt from the tile floor at some point but she tries to pay no mind to the pain.

She occasionally flicks her wrist to pump what she can’t fit in her mouth. Her cheeks hollow out as she sucks since she knows that’s one of Wyatt’s favorite things. It causes a moan to pass Wyatt’s lips and he quickly covers his mouth with his hand in case anyone is outside the door.

The only time she alerts Wyatt to the fact that her knees hurt is when she shifts her weight and winces around his dick.

He looks down at her and asks, “Do your knees hurt?” She nods in response. “Come here, baby.” She pulls off his dick with a soft pop and slowly gets to her feet. Wyatt has her by the waist so she doesn’t stumble and fall.

When she’s fully on her feet and finds her balance, Wyatt leans down and kisses her deeply. His tongue parts her lips and she hums. Her hands find his hair and his hands slide down to her butt. Wyatt squeezes once then picks her up by the back of her thighs.

She squeals in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck. Wyatt sets her down on the counter next to the sink. She leans against the mirror behind her but keeps her arms wrapped around his neck.

Wyatt smiles at her and wraps his pointer fingers into the thin straps of her dress. He’s always been a boob guy so this doesn’t surprise her at all. He leans into her and presses light kisses to her breasts. He gropes one while he gives attention to the other, then alternates. Moans pass her lips and she leans her head back against the mirror.

“Wyatt,” she whines. “I need you. Please, baby.”

He snaps his head up when she talks. “Oh, you’re so nerdy that you want me to fuck you in a bar bathroom,” he comments with a sly smirk on his face. “Being legal is great.”

She pushes his shoulder. “Wyatt Johnston, fuck me before I go find one of your single teammates who wouldn’t hesitate,” she blurts out. “Quit yapping.”

With a laugh, he pushes the bottom of her already short skirt over her butt so the entire dress sits around just her waist. “You’re all mine, pretty girl,” Wyatt tells her. “Your threat is nothing more than a bark. I fuck you too good for you to go find someone else.”

She rolls her eyes because she knows he’s right. She’ll always come back to him, no matter what.

He pushes her black lace panties over and she presses her lips into a line. She shivers when the cool air hits her wet core. She kicks off her shoes and puts one of her heels on the counter so Wyatt has easy access because her legs have already fallen apart.

Wyatt leans into her and catches her lips in a deep kiss. She gasps against his lips when she feels him run his tip through her soaked folds. She grips the collar of his shirt as he pushes into her. "God, Wyatt," she mumbles. "Fuck."

He nips at her bottom lip as he slowly pushes himself into her. Her legs begin to shake with anticipation as Wyatt deepens the kiss and bottoms out in her at the same time. She hums and Wyatt swallows the noise.

After a second or waiting so she can adjust to him, Wyatt begins to roll his hips against hers. She cries out and he nips at her bottom lip. “Baby, you have to be quiet,” he reminds her. “Anyone could walk by and hear you.”

She nods in response and pulls back so she can look at her boyfriend. Wyatt’s lips are swollen and kiss bruised. His eyes are dark with lust and hazy from the alcohol he has been drinking over the last few hours. His hair is a mess from her running her fingers through it. He’s so pretty and so disheveled at the same time.

He splays his hands on either side of her on the counter to keep his balance. She keeps her arms around his neck so she doesn’t fall off the counter.

If anyone would catch her falling off a counter because of sex, it’s Wyatt. Wyatt would be the one to catch her.

His speed picks up after a minute and he move as deep into her as he can at this angle. She has to bite her lip to keep herself from getting too loud in case anyone walks by the bathroom or comes knocking. Wyatt lets out soft pants as he moves. A layer of sweat forms on both of them since it’s so hot in the tiny room.

One of Wyatt’s hands eventually slithers down between them and he find her clit. She cries out but Wyatt quiets her with a kiss. He plays with the little bundle of nerves and her entire body shakes as she tries to delay her own orgasm.

“Wyatt,” she groans against his mouth. “Wyatt, baby.”

“I have you,” he tells her between kisses. “Let go. I can feel you clenching so I know you want to come for me.”

His pace slows but he continues to slam into her every time he thrusts. She hums and feels the knot in her stomach threaten to come undone.

Wyatt flicks her clit and she comes with a squeal since she can’t shout. She feels her entire body clench around him. He pulls out of her quickly and comes all over her thighs and core. She pulls him in for messy kisses as they come down from their highs. Wyatt slouches against her and she slouches against the mirror. The kisses are hot and open-mouthed as they recover.

The kisses slow and she smiles against his lips. Wyatt pulls back and looks at her. She can only imagine what they look like right now. Sweaty, half naked, and blissed out in a bar bathroom. Come is rolling down her thighs.

“God, I love you,” Wyatt tells her.

“Oh, now you tell me after we fucked in a bar bathroom on your birthday and your come is all over my thighs,” she teases with a smile on her face. Wyatt laughs. “I love you too. Let me go pee and clean myself up if you love me though.”

He pecks her lips one more time before she reaches over and grabs a handful of paper towels to clean her legs. She fixes her dress when Wyatt helps her down then goes to pee because she’s not catching a UTI from having sex in a public bathroom. He cleans up the counter and uses the hand soap to wash it down.

When she’s done peeing, she helps Wyatt fix his shirt. She fixes his hair before fixing her hair. She can’t do a thing about the marks on her knees from the tile floor so she knows that if someone sees them, she’s gonna get teased for it and Wyatt will never hear the end of his from his teammates.

After they decide they’re decent enough, they sneak out of the bathroom.

Music still blares from every corner of the bar when they make their way back to the table. They take their seats and sip their drinks like they didn’t just fuck in the bathroom.

Unfortunately, someone did notice they left.

Logan leans on the table between them. “So, wanna tell me which bathroom you two got freaky in so I know if I have to wait to pee or not?” he asks.

“Shut up,” Wyatt retorts. “It’s supposed to be fun turning 21 so I’m gonna have the time of my life tonight. Also, it’s not my fault that my girlfriend is hot.”

He shudders and Tyler laughs. “You two are insane,” he comments. “Risky considering you’re a NHL player, Johnny.”

“I’d take a thousand risks for her,” Wyatt says. “End of story.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna be attending a wedding next year,” Jamie says after he swallows a sip of his drink. “Two years tops.”

She smiles behind her glass because she knows Wyatt is planning to propose at some point. She has no idea when but maybe Jamie isn’t wrong about the two years tops.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

requests are currently CLOSED !!

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taglist : @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @ivy-34

[inkdrinkerworld]

beefy!james takes his job as standing bodyguard outside of the bathroom that autistic!reader is currently sitting in where r is overstimulated and needs quiet/to be alone !! he’ll give anyone who needs the bathroom directions to the one upstairs and if anyone wants to see you he’ll open the door and quietly ask you <333

I love love love your autistic reader, thank you for all the work you put into your writing, it’s lovely !!

yes! jamie is a considerate KING going with collage rugby!james here because i love him!!!

you’d been at the party for near on two hours before you’d started getting overstimulated.

there were just too many people, too much noise, too much drinks being sloshed over cups and sticking to the linoleum floors.

james had been with his team and he’d spotted your distress. he was attentive like that.

now you’re sitting on the bathroom floor while james waits outside the door to make sure no one tries to get in.

he’s holding your bottle water, the condensation running off and pooling in his palm as he stands outside diligently.

james doesn’t try to make you talk, instead, he hopes that the noise cancelling earbuds he’d brought along would help as you self-regulated.

“she okay?” one of his friends ask when they find james and he nods.

“fine, the noise was too much,” he says kindly. james doesn’t go advertising to everyone all your struggles but he doesn’t want to minimize them either. “the bathroom upstairs should be free if you need it.”

his friend nods and walks off just as james’ phone dings.

‘prettiest girl’: is it okay if i go home? i don’t want to ruin your night.

james knocks on the door in space of a response. “m’heart? can you come out?”

you open the door so it’s just slightly ajar, your eyes are still dilated and james can tell you’re itching to get out of your clothes.

“we’ll go together okay? the guys can handle the rest of the night without me.”

you dig your toe into the ground as you look up at james. “are you sure jamie? it’s right after a big win.”

james blows a raspberry, pulling on your belt loops to get you a little closer to him. “i’m finer than those pen tips you write with angel. promise it’s all okay, m’not letting my girl go home by herself.”

[lexisecretaccx]

A+ Student pt.2

Other parts on my Masterlist!

(Fem reader, Matt and Chris, suggestive, little angst, not proofread! Everyone is 18+, idk what else)

Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..

“There she is!” Lizzy calls over to me, sat next to 3 other people who I don’t know, she motions me to sit opposite her. “Who are these?” I whisper to her. She chuckles, “this is Ethan, this is Jamie and this is Kelly.” She looks to a blonde girl sat next to her who smiles at me, “I’m new, I think I’m in your English class.” She giggles, “oh nice.” I smile uncomfortably.

I don’t enjoy being around new people, I know you have to be to make new friends but I honestly don’t want new friends. I eat my food silently while they all talk and make my way to the library for the last period, which was a free period. Nobody else who I knew had one so I was alone but it’s usually like that anyway.

Lizzy enjoys being around people, she’s pretty extroverted but not me.

I sit down at a table in the library and open a book, not a book to learn but just a book. Icebreaker. If you weren’t familiar with it, it’s a smutty book so reading it in school is a dangerous task.

I turn to the page I was on and read it. Whilst I was getting into the story, I sense someone looking at me and I turn around. Matt is stood there flicking through a book, he quickly drops his head from looking at me. I pack my book into my bag, placing the bookmark into the page and I walk to him. “Hey professor.” I lean up against the bookcase next to him.

“Oh hey y/n, you okay?” He smiles at me, “yeah I have a free period, what you reading?” I ask him looking at the book in his hands. He shrugs lightly, “I don’t know I just picked a random book,” he laughs quietly due to us being in a library. “Uh, why did Chris make you stay behind earlier?” He slightly leads my arm so we can sit down.

“I threw a dodgeball at Rachel, because she was saying shit about me.” I whisper, he chuckles, “Rachel in the English class?” I nod. “I’ll give her a D- next test if you want.” He grins, “No don’t do that.” I laugh, “I was kidding.”

We chat and I text him so he gets my number and the bell rings so I leave to go home. As I’m walking I get a text from Matts number, “extra credit 6pm? 27 Saques Lane.” I smile to myself before texting back, “sure see u there.”

I feel my cheeks heat up, am I really doing this? I get home and walk upstairs, showering, making myself look presentable and also slipping on a red lacy set, just in case.. I put on sweats and a crop top that shows my cleavage the perfect amount. Am I delusional? What if he doesn’t mean what I think he does? I start to feel anxious but I get a cab to his house.

The cab driver pulls up outside Matt’s and I pay him before hopping out of the car. I walk up his large driveway, this house must have at least 4 bedrooms or more, there’s a minivan in the driveway and a fancy Porsche. “Woah.” I mumble to myself. I knock the door nervously, someone opens the door. “Oh hey..” he says.

“Sorry I’m just heading out now, who are you?” He tilts his head slightly, “oh I’m y/n, I’m here to see Matt?” I speak, anxiety filling my chest. “Oh yeah he’s in the living room, see ya.” He walks past me without letting me say another word. “Okay..” I whisper. I walk in and I can hear music or something coming from the room next to me.

The door is glass so I peer through and see Matt laying back on a big couch facing a modern fireplace with a massive tv on it. How can he afford these things? I think to myself.

I open the door and walk in, Matt instantly turning his head to face me. His gaze softens as he realised it’s me. “I’m so sorry I didn’t hear you knock!” He stands up and walks to me, “it’s fine, the other one of you three opened the door.” I smile, “Nick?” He asks me and I shrug, “probably, it wasn’t Chris so yeah.” I laugh and he chuckles.

“Come sit.” He sits back down and I sit next to him, he turns the TV off and directs his attention to me, “so what extra credit should I do?” I lean closer to him, “like write a short story or do some quizzes or something else..” I look him up and down, the grey sweatpants sitting perfectly and the tight black tshirt is doing all sorts of good things.

“I like the third option.” He whispers before leaning in and brushing my hair out of my face. I know this is wrong but it feels so good. I press my lips to his and I melt into him, his soft lips move against mine perfectly.

He hums against my lips before pulling away too soon. “This is wrong.” He mumbled to himself. “I thought you wanted..” I go to speak but he cuts me off, “I don’t know y/n.. what if I lose my job?” He stands up and wipes his mouth, “fuck.” He breathes out. “I’m sorry..” I fidget with my hands.

“Don’t apologise.. please y/n? I just...” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t thinking straight.. you’re just so.. I don’t know.” He sits on the coffee table opposite me.

“So you don’t want me anymore?” I ask, and he huffs, “No I’m not saying that.. but I also am. I just love my job, and you’re great at the subject but I don’t want this.” He motions between us. My eyes well with tears, “what?” My voice cracks, “don’t cry, please? I’m gonna go for a drive.. clear my head but you can stay here until I’m back if you want.” He smiles and pats my shoulder.

He walks out the door, “what the fuck just happened.” I cry softly to myself, placing my head in my hands. I should’ve know that this wasn’t what he wanted truly. Fuck I feel awful, I’m a slut.

After 5 minutes I stand up to go leave and the front door opens infront of me, Matt wouldn’t be home this quickly, what if it’s Nick? He doesn’t know me and I’m crying in his hallway. “Oh fuck you scared me.” I look up to see Chris, I breathe out softly, “oh shit you okay?” He walks up to my and rests his hand on my shoulder, I shake my head. “No.” I squeak before crying harder.

Without hesitation he pulls me into his chest and hugs me, I pull my head off of him and he looks down, “I don’t wanna get makeup on your shirt.” I whisper and he chuckles. “It’s fine.”

We pull away from the hug, “that’s embarrassing.” I laugh lightly, and he tilts his head, “what is?” I shrug, “I fucking cried in my gym teachers arms.” He laughs softly, “that’s not embarrassing.. but why are you in my house crying?” He leads me to the kitchen and we sit up to the island. “Uh.. fuck I don’t know if I can tell.” I sigh.

“Matt? Right?” He asks. I nod, “We didn’t do anything, he just flipped out.” He cracks his knuckles, “well he is your professor maybe he got scared, he’s never been one to take risks.” Chris leans on the counter smiling at me. I sigh, “yeah but he made me think he wanted something.”

“It’s okay, when is he coming back?” He rubs my back comfortingly, I shrug. “I don’t know, he didn’t say.” Chris nods. The room has gotten tense, not an awkward tension but it’s indescribable.

“What did you mean earlier today?” Chris’ eyes meet mine and he hums in confusion, “when you said there was ways for me to get higher grades, what did you mean by that?” I ask again, the corners of his mouth flick up before relaxing, “it wasn’t what you were thinking..” he smirks.

“What did you think I was thinking?” I lean on the counter infront of me slightly, “I think you were thinking that I was implying something sexual.. weren’t you y/n?” He leans in slightly, I shake my head gently. “No I wasn’t thinking that.. you’re my teacher.” I scoff, “didn’t stop you from trying with Matt huh?” He leant in further.

“The difference between me and him? I like to take risks.” He leant in so his nose brushed against mine before he pulled away. I feel my cheeks redden, he laughs at my nervousness, “do you want-” I go to speak but the front door unlocks and both of us turn to face the door before Chris gets up and walks over to the fridge. Matt walks in and goes to check the living room before he notices me in the kitchen.

“Oh hey.” He spoke softly walking towards me, his eyes dart to Chris standing there opening a can of Pepsi. His jaw tightens, “hey Matty boy you okay?” Chris teases and Matt rolls his eyes, “see ya tomorrow y/n.” Chris spoke as he walks past me, patting my shoulder and going out into the hall. “Did you tell him.. or?” Matt starts to talk.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” I sigh, “hey what did I do?” He asks with genuine concern on his face, I scoff. “You led me on to believe you wanted something from me!” I stand up out of the seat. “Come on y/n, I’m your professor.. grow up.” He spoke, I just started walking towards the front door.

“Wait.. wait.” He yelled slightly before grabbing my arm. “Get off.” I hiss. “I’m sorry okay?” He whispers in my ear before letting go. “I’ll see you in tomorrow’s lecture, no hard feelings right?” He smiled and I just opened the door and walked out. I felt angry. Why did he pretend he wanted something and then treats me like shit.

Chris is nice though.. “y/n.. please come back.” I hear Matt calling from behind me and I turn around, I still can’t deny that I find him so fucking gorgeous he’s just kind of a dick.. “what?” I reply. “I’ll bump your overall trade to an A+.. I know how much you want it and you deserve it.” He smiles as he catches up with me, he brushes my hair out my face. “Thanks…” I feel drawn into him.

What kind of spell has he got on me? He’s manipulating me right? “What were you and Chris doing?” He asks me, as his hand rests on my arm, “the thing we didn’t do.” I whisper just to watch his expression change. It did exactly that and his gaze hardens, “what?” He mumbles, “we talked.. me and you haven’t done that.” I turn around and continue to walk away.

I turn away to see him walking back to his house slowly, I can’t let him manipulate me but I just don’t know.. there’s something about him.. but also about Chris.. maybe it’s the fact they’re both my teachers, or maybe it’s because they look the same but are so different at the same time.

I just don’t know what I want..

A/n: Team Chris or Team Matt? I have good plans for this but I cannot reveal and I also cannot upload too much bc of how busy I ammm! Ily all and thanks for 600 followers that’s crazy!

@blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosmind @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219

[ravenromanova]

Too close

Pairings: Ghostface Bucky x Female reader (I got this idea from a tiktok i saw of someone that made a scream poster of bucky as ghostface and i died and i also read a natasha ghostface fic and it was so good and i thought why not make one of bucky!) This is the fic that inspired this, by @abbyromanoff you can run but you cant hide

Warnings: Mentions of killing, blood, SMUT 18+!!!!! Mask kink, knife play, Blood kink, Daddy kink, Breeding kink, unprotected sex (Bucky and the reader have sex in another room from an unalived person) (My darkest fantasies are coming out to play here sue me) DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18+!!!!!!!!

Summary- Bucky doesn’t like it when people get too close to his girl. What happens when you figure out why everyone you talk to suddenly dies. Will you run?

Kinktober masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!

~

“This just in another the mysterious serial killer known as ghostface has claimed another victim. 22 year old Jordan Rodriguez was found in her new york apartment with 50 stab wounds. She was found by her roommate Janice after she came home from work. Officers haven’t given many details as to if they are any leads into who this killer could be. But they have advised everyone within the brooklyn area to be inside by 8pm to limit any risks.” The nightly news reporters vice echos through your apartment as you watch through hooded eyes.

This was the fifth person this week to die a brutal death and not to mention you seem to have had an interaction with everyone that has died. Fear floods your veins as your head runs a thousand miles and hour and what this could mean. Is someone out to hurt you? Do you have a stalker who is killing everyone you know to get you alone? Are you next? That’s all you can think about before your thoughts are cut off by the front door opening.

You shriek and jump off the couch and run to the kitchen to grab whatever knife you can. You decide to duck behind your island with the knife as you hear footsteps walk in. The footsteps are heavy yet soft as the approach you. It’s not until the figure comes closer to you that you jump in front of them and attempt to stab them but they catch your hand.

“Woah they’re tiger” The voice says and you drop the knife once you realize who it is. You flick on the kitchen light before walking over to him and throwing your arms around his shoulders and hugging him.

“I’m sorry jamie” You apologize to your boyfriend and he just chuckles in response.

“It’s okay babydoll, but what has you so freaked out?” He asks looking at your with eyes of concern.

You sigh as you look at him before you decide to tell him what’s wrong. “The news- They said another person has been killed…A-And i knew the person who was killed, Ive known all the people who’ve died this week! What-what if someone is out to hurt me? What i-if i- die?” Your voice breaks as you speak your fears. He looks at you and brings you in for another hug.

“Oh babydoll it’s going to be okay im sure it’s nothing” He said calmly as she stroked your back and kissing the top of your head.

You sighed as you looked at him while you nodded your head. Maybe you were just being paranoid you thought, maybe this is just one big coincidence and you’ll be fine. Yea… you’ll be fine.

“Yea maybe you’re right” You didn’t sound too convinced with your own words but you try to shake off the feeling that something bad is happening.

“Come on babydoll lets get you into bed so you stop overthinking in that pretty little head of yours” His voice is so soft and sweet as he takes your hand in his and walks you two to the bedroom. When the both of you enter the room he tells you to lay down and then goes to get something. Thirty seconds later he comes back with your favorite blanket and stuffed animal and slides in bed next to you.

That night the two of you cuddle and have cute little conversations that help ease your overthinking. You fell asleep with him whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

What you didn’t know was that Bucky was panicking since he stepped foot into the apartment. He thought he had been caught when you attempted to stab him but luckily for him you were as clueless as ever.

~one week later~

You sighed as you watched the news and they reported the 8th murder in two weeks. And very unfortunately for you, you had known the persons who died…just like the rest of them. That really didn’t help with the overthinking that’s for sure.

It was around 4am when you decided to turn off the tv and head to bed. Your brows furrowed when you realized Bucky wasnt home yet. You thought maybe he had gotten an overnight shift at the garage but normally he tells you that. You decided to check ‘find my friends’ since it kinda worried you that he wasnt home.

When his location showed that he was at an apartment complex your heart sank. A thousand possibilities were running through your head as you threw some sweats on, grabbed your keys and headed out the door to find your boyfriend.

The whole car ride you were full of anxiety and your brain wouldn’t shut up. Once you pulled up to the complex you quickly ran to the car not in the mood to play around if he was fucking someone else. You followed the gps and walked right up to the front door but you noticed it was open slightly. So what did you do? You walked right into the dark apartment despite not knowing who or what you’d find.

But what you did find sent bile to your throat. There was a figure dressed in all black standing over who you thought was your boyfriend with a knife in their hand.

“BUCKY!” You screamed as you ran over to the body on the floor. It wasnt until you got up close that you realized that the person wasnt Bucky…It was the barista that served you your coffee this morning. Your thoughts ran wild as you mumbled incoherent words under your breath.

But those were quickly cut off once your heard the masked figured laughing. You whipped your head around and stared at the figure in horror.

“Oh Kotenok you’re so precious” The masked figured said as he slowly removed his mask. Your eyes widened as you saw who was under the mask… It was Bucky. You quickly stood up and backed away from him as you started to hyperventilate.

“W-What the hell?” You finally said after you finally slowed your breathing down. Bucky chuckled as he came closer to you and wiped some sweat off his forehead.

“I guess it’s finally time to tell you-“ He said as she took off the costume and dropped the knife. You stared at him as his hand come up to caress your cheek. “You see kotenok i never meant for any of this to happen- But these people-t-they flirt with you and get too close to you. And i cant have that, i cant have people wanting to take what’s mine. And see i wouldn’t mind so much that people mindlessly flirt with you… if you didn’t flirt back” He seethed as he grabbed your face.

You were speechless at his confession never in a million years did you think he’d do this. But the idea that you’re his motive, that he just wants to keep you to his self is intoxicating. You look up at him with doe eyes before you finally find the words to say.

“You do all of this to make sure that i stay yours” Your voice heightens in excitement as you wait for his response.

His grip tightens on your face as he speaks. “Yes kotenok i do- i cant stand the thought of someone else having you the way i do” He confess as his eyes darken at the way you smirk.

“That’s- the hottest thing i think you’ve ever said to me” Bucky smiles devilishly at your words and suddenly picks you up and pushes you against the wall. His lips are on yours within a seconds time and the kiss is the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done.

“Put the mask back on” The words come out breathless as your chest rises due to the lack of air. He smirks as he walks you over to the couch and lays you down before grabbing the mask and knife again. He put the mask back on and then slowly stalks towards you and he twirls the knife in his hand.

“Oh fuck” You whisper under your breath when he climbs on top of you. Even though you cant see his face you know for a fact he’s smirking. He wastes no time in ripping off your shirt along with your sweats leaving you in just your panties.

“So pretty” His voice comes out a little muffled as he speaks due to the mask but it made it so much hotter. He then takes the knife that he wiped off and drags it across your bare chest. Your breath hitches in your throat as the cool metal hits your skin. Bucky then drags the knife down your torso and slices your panties off and drags it across your bare pussy.

“Please” You beg as you grab the hand with the knife and place it on your stomach. He places the blade on your skin and digs it in just a little, “Mark me” Bucky wastes no time in carving his initials into your skin he leaves a little ‘J.B.B’ on your stomach, before wiping the blood away with his thumb. Your grab his thumb and slowly bring it to your mouth before you clean his thumb off.

“Fucking hell kotenok” He groans at your actions. Bucky grows impatient as he throws the knife across the room making note to pick it back up later. He then spreads your pussy and starts to play with your clit and your back arches in reaction.

“Please daddy” You beg and then he adds two fingers into you in a swift motion and chooses a relentless pace. This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever done but right now, in this moment you dont give a flying fuck.

The pleasure you feel is beyond intense as Bucky curls his fingers and hits your g-spot just right. You let out a screaming moan as your first orgasm bursts through you. “Oh fuck” You breathe out the best you can as you slowly takes off his pants and boxers exposing his hard cock standing at attention for you.

“I want you so bad please daddy” He doesn’t need much motivation after you give him the go ahead. Bucky slams his cock into you hard and fast and you scream in response to his movement.

“Yes yes yes” You chant as you sit up and wrap your arms around him as Bucky slams into you. The room is filled with the filthy noises of your pussy and his balls slapping your skin.

“Gonna fucking breed you kotenok” He grunts and picks up his speed chasing his high. You can feel your second orgasm build up as he talks about breeding you.

“Oh please breed me daddy- fuck- wanna be full of your babies” You plead as you grind your hips down on his cock earning a guttural moan from him.

“Yea? You want that your little slut? You wanna have my kids?” He asks even though he already knows the answer. You dont find the words to respond and just opt for nodding your head. And in turn Bucky changes the position so he’s back on top and he thrusts into you like never before. Your moans become louder and his pace gets rougher. The both of you end up finishing within a matter of minutes and once you do you take the mask off him and just stare at him.

You take a moment and rub your thumb over his bottom lip before you bring him into a passionate kiss. Bucky grunts into the kiss and wraps his arms around your waist lovingly. After you break the kiss you look into his blue eyes and smile softly.

“I love you” You whisper and put your forehead against his. In this moment you love him more than you ever thought possible. Did he murder someone? Yes. Did he kill almost a dozen people just for you? Yes. But he also did it because he loves you and that just makes your heart swell. You get an idea after a minute of just looking at him.

“Let’s clean this place up and then run away, Lets go some where else where it can be just us” You say with a pleading looking in your eyes. Bucky agrees and nods before getting you both dressed again.

The two of you clean up the mess and decide of what to do with the body before heading back home to pack your things. That night while in a way tragic was also the start of the rest of your lives together and you couldn’t be happier.

~the end~

i do not give permission for my work to me translated or copied on other websites

[ellecdc]

First off

You survived your exams 🫡

2ndly, this is my official request for the 'potter!reader x Barty where she steals Jamies clothes' idea we were discussing ✌️

(I highlighted it in the Barty doc incase you forgot)

first of all; thank you, thank you! *bows dramatically*

secondly; here's a celebratory Barty fic

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader and James is not pleased

There were a few things in life that being James Potter’s twin sister made particularly difficult.

One such thing was your ability to have friends (or, in your case, a boyfriend) not pre-approved by him.

You heard a horrified squawking sound as you made the last step down the stairs into the Gryffindor common room and looked up to see James staring at you with wide eyes while Sirius smirked, Remus rolled his eyes, and Peter groaned dramatically. 

“Where do you think you’re going!?” James demanded as he all but stepped over Peter to make his way over to you.

“Prongs, please, this is the fourth time you abandoned this chess game.” Peter whined as Sirius snickered.

“Leave the poor girl alone, James. You’re not her mother.” Remus chided, causing you to raise your eyebrows at your brother as if saying “yeah!”

“Where are you going?” James amended with an eye roll of his own.

“Slytherin.” You answered simply, crossing your arms over your chest as you challenged your brother head on.

“And what are you wearing?” He continued displeasing; plucking at the long-sleeved t-shirt you currently adorned between his two fingers as if it was something particularly disgusting he’d found on the side of the road. 

You scoffed derisively as you swatted his hands away. “What? Are joggers and a long sleeved shirt not modest enough, James?”

He narrowed his eyes at you as he petulantly swatted you back for having swatted him. “These are boys' clothes, Y/N; you’re wearing a boy’s clothes. Oh my Godric; you’re sleeping with him, aren’t you!” He accused theatrically. 

He spun on the spot to face his friends and dragged you beside him roughly by the arm as he pointed at you. “She’s wearing his clothes! Junior is defiling my sister.”

And though that wasn’t technically untrue, it wasn’t the fucking point, or any of his business.

“James!” You shouted over his panicked trade, ignoring Peter’s protests at him being “far too invested in his own sister’s sexual habits.”

“James Fleamont Potter!” You bellowed, grabbing your brother by a fistful of his hair and pulling his face towards you. “This is your shirt. I took it from your trunk.” 

James froze in his place; hunched over like a ventriloquist dummy that you were controlling by means of his hair as he took a second look at your outfit. 

A brief look of embarrassment flashed across his features as his eyes flit back up to yours.

“Huh.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Funny that.”

You sneered at him and shoved him away from you. “As lovely as this was, Jamie, I’ll be leaving.”

“Wait! No!” James started, reaching for you before he was being physically redirected back towards the couch by Remus.

“Come on, James; leave your sister alone, yeah?” He said jovially as he thumped James on the back twice. 

“Go on, Princess, while he’s distracted. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Sirius called, shooting you a salacious wink.

You barked a laugh and shook your head. “That doesn’t leave much off limits, Black.”

James squawked again as Sirius laughed boisterously and you left the Gryffindor common room behind you. 

Blessedly, the noise level (and general vibe) in the Slytherin common room was far more relaxed as you stepped through the door.

 Barty whipped his head towards the sound sporting a very severe expression on his face until his eyes landed on you, causing his expression to turn into a beaming smile as he flipped the chess board he’d been in the middle of playing with Evan over; telling his friend to “get fucking lost, my girl is here.” 

You chuckled at Evan’s petulant grumblings as Barty swept you up off your feet into a bear hug and breathed you in. 

“What took you so long, angelcakes?” He said through a sigh as he placed you back onto your feet, though kept your face secure within his hands as he smiled down at you.

“I had to fight off my brother on my way.” 

Barty rolled his eyes dramatically and lowered his voice. “If you need me to kill him, just say the word, Princess; he’ll never bother you again.”

You chuckled and teasingly smacked his arm. “Brothers are meant to be a bother; that’s what they’re put on this earth for.”

Regulus offered you a ‘hear, hear’ as Barty escorted you towards his dorm room. 

You were no sooner curled up against Barty on his bed when he was pulling you away from him and scrutinising your form.

“What are you wearing?” He asked bemusedly.

You groaned dramatically and threw yourself back onto the bed. “What is it with everyone and their obsession with my outfit!?”

“It’s not the outfit, it’s the shirt.” Barty explained, sitting up to get a better look at you.

“It’s just a shirt - not even a very nice one at that.” You muttered, looking down at the random shirt you’d pilfered from your brother’s trunk; why were boys clothes so much more comfortable!?

“How dare you!” Barty bristled in offence. “I spent a lot of my father’s dirty money on that shirt!”

You looked at your boyfriend with furrowed brows. “Barty, this isn’t your shirt?”

“I know - I bought it for Reg for his birthday last year.”

This was Regulus’ shirt?

But…

“Barty…” You started slowly, realisation dawning on you as you met your boyfriends bemused eyes. “I stole this shirt from Jamie’s room.”

Barty’s brows furrowed further as he looked back down at your James’ Regulus’ shirt. “Why…why would Potter have Reg’s shirt?”

You let the silence sit for a few moments before each of you were scrambling from Barty’s bed and racing to the common room.

“Are you sleeping with my brother!?” You shouted at the same time Barty screeched, “you’re fucking a Potter too!?”

Regulus had looked up from his book though staunchly refused to look at you; and whilst his face remained impassive, a furious blush overtook his face.

“I’M TELLING SIRIUS!” You shouted as you turned and bolted towards the door; Regulus hot on your heels shouting “don’t you fucking dare!”, and Barty cackling madly as he followed the two of you up to Gryffindor tower.

[babydollmarauders]

ENCHANTED — JAMIE DRYSDALE

jamie drysdale x hughes!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n meets Jamie on a boring night and becomes completely enchanted with him

notes: this is my first time ever writing for Jamie, so bear with me! (4k words, precisely.)

this wasn’t where i wanted to spend my night.

after two years in Anaheim, i thought i had successfully avoided my brother’s best friend dragging me to parties or nights out.

i always had an excuse handy.

“sorry Trevor, i have a big test. i gotta study.”

“i have major cramps, sorry Trev.”

“i have study group, sorry!”

“sorry Trevor, i have a shift at the campus store!”

that last one came back to bite me in the ass after Trevor had mentioned it to Jack and my loving brother outed me on the fact that i don’t even have a job.

that’s what got me here. finally conned into being Trevor’s friendly plus-one to John Gibson’s end-of-the-season party. despite the fact that i was telling the truth this time when i said i had to study for finals.

Trevor had pulled some pouty puppy face over facetime, reminded me that i lied to him last time, and even pulled out the “i just wanna hang out with you, mini Hughes. i never get to see you, even though we live in the same city. you may as well be as far away as Jack.”

and just like that, i was putty in his hands. i agreed to accompany, only on the agreement that he wouldn’t leave me alone when we got here. and he hasn’t, so far.

he stands next to me, an arm leant against my shoulder, as he chats with Troy Terry.

“this is y/n Hughes, my itty bitty best buddy!” his speech is slightly slurred, already significantly buzzed, but not quite drunk yet.

“you gotta stop calling me that.” i roll my eyes. “i’m not fourteen and 5’3 anymore.”

“but you’re still not my height,” he laughs, ruffling my hair. “so it stays.”

i send Troy a pleading glance and his head tips back in laughter.

“so, you’re Quinn, Jack, and Luke’s sister?” Troy asks.

“yeah, i’m between Jack and Luke.” i explain and he nods, making a comment about how hard it must be being the only girl.

“where’s Jamie, Trevor? thought he would’ve driven with you.” Troy questions, and i’m grateful for the change of subject.

i love my brothers, but they’re all anyone ever wants to talk about. i’m my own person, my life doesn’t revolve around them.

“nah, i picked this one up, so Jamie’s driving on his own. he should be here soon though.”

i zone out as the conversation shifts to their off-season plans, forcing a laugh whenever Trevor tells a horrendous joke, and faking a smile when he mentions that he’ll be coming to my brothers lake house.

but eventually i get bored, instead turning my head to look around the crowded house.

i recognize a few people from the Ducks games i’ve watched or attended. John Gibson, the goalie. Mason McTavish, the young center.

but then i see him.

dark hair and blue eyes contrast against pale skin. even from across the room, i can see the freckles that litter across his nose and cheekbones. his gaze shifts around the room, and when it settles on where i am, he seems to let out a relieved sigh, making his way over.

my body tenses, my posture becoming straighter, and as i push my shoulders back slightly, i accidentally knock Trevor’s arm off. but he doesn’t seem to notice, a large goofy smile breaking out across his face as he cheers.

“Jimbo! you made it!”

a blush rises to the gorgeous boy’s cheeks, huffing out an awkward chuckle. it’s beautiful. he’s beautiful.

“Jimmy, this is y/n. y/n, this is Jamie!” Trevor introduces us and realization settles over me.

this is Jamie? Trevor’s best friend and roommate in California?

he reminds me of a disney prince. his eyes meet mine, wonder shining amongst them.

“have we met? you seem kinda familiar.” his voice reminds me of daylight breaking amongst gray clouds. warmth and security flowing throughout my body.

but before i can respond, Trevor butts his way in again.

“i’m gonna go get another drink! i’ll be back.”

Trevor pushes his way between us, heading off toward the kitchen, and Jamie laughs again.

“so, how drunk is he?” Jamie questions, his head nodding towards where Trevor disappeared.

“well, about ten minutes ago, he was singing me the mighty ducks theme song.” i explain and Jamie nods in understanding.

“got it. so, he’s sober.” he remarks and i let out a giggle.

“yeah,” i drag out. “there really isn’t much of a difference between sober and drunk Trevor, is there?”

“not when he’s as wild drunk as he is sober.” Jamie jokes, and i hum in agreement.

“so, you’re the infamous Jamie Drysdale?” i raise an eyebrow, watching as his cheeks turn pink.

“oh god, he talks about me?” he laughs and i nod.

“you’ve been mentioned a few times.” i confirm. “all good things, of course.”

Jamie and i stand in that same spot almost all night, eventually moving to the couch when we realize that Trevor isn’t coming back.

“so, you’re a student at… Chapman?” he gathers.

“yeah, i’m about to end my junior year. one year online during the pandemic, and two years on campus here.” i explain and he nods his head in understanding, taking a sip of his soda.

“what’s your major?”

“broadcast journalism. my main focus is sports entertainment.” he nods again before his nose scrunches in confusion, his eyebrows pulling together.

“and you’ve known Trevor this whole time?” i hum out in agreement. “how have we never met until now?”

“okay, don’t judge me.” i preface, making him chuckle, but agree. “i’m not much of a party person. i prefer to stay in my dorm and watch movies. so, i always make up an excuse to get out of coming to parties with Trevor.”

his head tips back in laughter, causing a rush of heat to spread across my face, but at the sight of my blush, he shakes his head.

“wait, no! no! i’m not laughing at you, i swear! i’m laughing because i do the same thing.” his words are spoken through broken laughter, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip to hold back a smile.

“really? you’re his roommate!”

“that doesn’t mean i love partying!” he defends himself. “i’m more introverted. quieter than Z. a lot of people wonder why we’re friends, but, we balance each other out.”

he shrugs and i tilt my head, squinting my eyes.

“hm, yeah, i could see that.” i admit. “my best friend and i are the same way. she’s a lot like Trevor.”

as the words leave my mouth, my face drops; my eyes wide, my lips parted in horror.

“oh god, she’s like Trevor.” Jamie’s entire body folds in laughter, his face turning bright red as his hand lands on my knee, sending sparks up my leg.

he looks so carefree and happy, i can’t help but sneak a picture.

“so, neither of us like parties,” Jamie starts, once he’s finally calmed down from laughing at my horror. “and Trevor has left us, and i doubt he’s coming back.”

“definitely not. that boy has the attention span of a goldfish.” i joke and Jamie agrees.

“so why don’t we get out of here?” he asks. my lips part, blood rushing to my cheeks, but before i can speak, he cuts me off. “wait, not like that. that came out wrong! what i mean is, i could really go for some food. and maybe getting out of this crowded house.”

“oh- yeah.” i nod, sliding my phone in my pocket. “yeah, that sounds great.”

“great!” he rises from the couch, holding his hand out for me to take; and i do, slipping my hand into his larger, more calloused hold.

he pulls me up from the couch, his grip never faltering as we exit the house with an irish goodbye and head to his car.

he opens the passenger door, finally dropping my hand to allow me to slide in, but i catch his hand flex in my peripheral vision and despite my now cold hand, my heart races in my chest. did i just get my own pride and prejudice moment?

“do you have any special requests on where to eat?” he questions as he starts the car.

“um, no.” i shrug. “anywhere with chicken tenders is fine with me.”

he laughs. “then i know just the place.”

the ride is made in a comfortable silence after that. nothing but the sound of country music flowing through the radio.

Jamie pulls into a diner parking lot, mostly empty due to the late timing, and we head inside, taking a seat in a booth towards the middle of the establishment.

“your chicken tenders, await.” he grins, pointing out the item on the laminated menu, slightly sticky with syrup.

“hey, don’t knock the chicken tenders. they’re an important food group.” i stick out my lip in a fake pout and he chuckles.

“yeah, if you’re ten.”

“oh yeah, well what are you gonna get? a burger?” he opens his mouth to defend himself, but as i raise a brow, he chooses to stay silent, letting out a ‘hmph’

“that’s what i thought.” i grin in triumph as a waitress stops by to take our orders. as soon as she leaves, my phone buzzes in my pocket and i slide it out, huffing a laugh at the text.

***

from: quack-quack 🦆

yo, where’d u go?! u disappeared on me!

***

i show the text to Jamie, who laughs as well.

“guess he did try to come back to us.” he shrugs.

“yeah, three hours after he left us!” i giggle, holding my phone up to take a picture of Jamie, who smiles, his arms crossed on the table.

the photo is the only response Trevor gets, but barely 5 minutes later, interrupting Jamie and i’s heavy debate on which Star Wars movie is the best, i get another text.

***

from: jacky ♥️🖤

why is Z telling me you’re out with a guy? at 11:30 at night?? y/n, go home. now. it’s unsafe and i can’t believe you’re being so reckless. i’ll deal with this in the morning.

***

i roll my eyes, choosing to ignore the text and slip my phone back into my pocket.

“Trevor again?” Jamie asks but i shake my head.

“no, worse. my brother.” i explain as our food arrives.

i smile over at the waitress, muttering out a ‘thank you’ before she retreats.

“you have a brother?” he speaks up as i take a bite of chicken and i nod.

“i have three.” i don’t give him any more information than that. if he’s unaware of who my brothers are, then i don’t want to tell him. not tonight, at least.

“oh damn.” he blows out a breath, his eyes widening. “i have a brother, but i can’t imagine having three. and being the only girl?”

“yeah, they’re pretty protective.”

“do they live here?” he asks, and it feels nice; being able to talk about my family without someone already knowing who they are and pretty much everything about them.

“no.” i shake my head. “one lives in canada, the other two on the east coast.”

he ask me more questions about my family, and i try to keep my answers as vague as possible, while still not being too vague that he thinks i don’t wanna talk about them.

for every question i answer, he gives me a fact about his own family, until the conversation shifts to jobs.

“well obviously you know i’m a hockey player.” he says as i push my now-empty plate away. “do you work?”

“not right now.” i tell him. “i’m focused on school at the moment. i got a full-ride scholarship, because of my grades, so i don’t have to pay for my tuition, and my parents pay for my dorm.

“but because they don’t have to pay for my tuition, they send me a monthly allowance from my college fund so that i don’t have to work and i can focus on my schooling.”

he follows along as i explain, maintaining eye contact.

“that’s cool. it’s good, that you get to focus on your grades.” i yawn as he finishes speaking, attempting to cover it, but he catches on. “oh shit, are you tired?”

“i- just a little bit.” i wince, hoping he doesn’t think i found him boring or anything.

“i can drop you off at your dorm, if you want. i know Trevor picked you up”

i nod as he motions over to the waitress for the check.

“yes, please.” i give in. “i usually wouldn’t mind staying out all night with you, because i’m having a really good time, and you’re so funny and sweet. but, i need to sleep so i can study tomorrow. i have a final on Monday.”

Jamie pays, waving off my offer to pay for my own food, and we exit the diner, climbing back into his car.

the time on his dashboard reads one am and i internally cringe at the idea of having to sneak back into my dorm.

the drive is mainly quiet as i give him directions to my dorm, and i sigh as we pull up in front of the building.

“i had a lot of fun.” i turn to him with a small smile as i unbuckle my seatbelt. “thanks for making tonight a lot less boring, Jamie.”

“yeah, me too.” he nods, “thanks for saving me from drunk Trevor.”

i’m grateful for the darkness of the night sky as he leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek, thanking whatever higher being that he’s unable to see the pink twinge of my cheekbones.

i bid him a goodnight as i exit the car, looking back as i reach the door to the dormitory building, to see him waiting for me to get inside before he leaves. i wave another goodbye, him doing the same as i disappear into the brick building.

i’m blushing, grinning like a lovesick fool the entire elevator ride up to my dorm.

i wonder if he knows how enchanted i was by him. one night together and i’m already thinking about how i would introduce him to my family.

i tiptoe into the dorm room, quiet to try and avoid waking my best friend slash roommate, but my efforts go unappreciated as she’s already sitting up in her bed, waiting for me.

“how was it? were you miserable without me?” Brandy asks from her spot propped against her mountain of pillows. “i bet you were, right?”

but i’m quiet; my mind still stuck on Jamie. he was amazing. so kind, and funny. and he actually asked about me. he genuinely wanted to know about my family and friends, what i liked to do in my free time, and what i wanted to do with my degree.

“oh- i know that look.” Brandy squeals, hopping off her bed and disregarding my half-nakedness in the midst of getting changed into my pajamas, pulling me in for a hug. “who is he? what’s his name? where’s he from? does he have a hot brother?”

“Trevor’s roommate, Jamie, Canada, and he has a brother but i don’t know what he looks like.” i spill, my cheeks red and a wide grin on my lips.

you’d think i just told Brandy i won the lottery with the way she lets out an excited shriek, jumping up and down as i finish changing.

i leave her to get out her excitement as i go wash my face and brush my teeth, but when i’m back, she just seems even more excited.

“tell me all about him!” she demands, hopping back into her bed, turning to face mine as i crawl in and bury myself in my covers.

“he was enchanting.” i sigh, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. “he was so funny, and he was so sweet. we really clicked, Bran.

“we met at the party and spent hours just talking and getting to know each other. and then he took me to this diner, and we spent another hour and a half just talking about our lives. and he doesn’t know who my brothers are! i mean, he knows who they are, obviously, because he plays hockey, but he doesn’t know they’re my brothers.”

“oh sweet angel,” she sighs, and i turn my head to look at her. “you seem so happy.”

her eyes are soft, a gentle smile on her face.

“i am.” i tell her.

“are you gonna see him again?” she questions, laying down under her blankets.

“i don’t know, i—” my mood deflates, my face dropping as realization settles over me. “i didn’t get his number.”

“so ask Trevor for it.” she shrugs, as if it’s easy. and i guess for her, someone who doesn’t have crippling anxiety, it is.

“i can’t.” i shake my head. “that would be so embarrassing. i don’t want Trevor to know i’m interested in his friend. not yet.”

“you’ll see him again, sweet angel.” Brandy assures me, flicking off her lamp. “it’ll work out.”

the room goes dark and quiet, and a mere five minutes later, i can hear her snores fill the room. but i’m still awake.

i grab my phone from where it rests on my bedside table, unlocking it, i’m unsurprised to see it’s two am. i click into my photos app, swiping back and forth between the two pictures i took of Jamie tonight.

questions plague my thoughts.

does he have a girlfriend in canada?

who does he love?

when is he leaving, now that the season is over?

will i ever see him again?

please let this be the very first page of our story.

please don’t let this be where our storyline ends.

i turn off my phone, plugging it in and setting it back on my nightstand. his name echoes through my thoughts, and when i close my eyes, all i picture is him.

please don’t be in love with someone else.

please don’t have somebody waiting on you.

i drift into sleep, my dreams overridden by the same blue eyed, freckled boy that had taken over my mind.

*** TWO MONTHS LATER ***

it’s been months, but i still haven’t moved past that April night with Jamie.

i can be having a normal summer day, and yet some way or another, i’m reminded of the beautiful boy that i spent that night with.

sometimes it’s the blue of the lake water, which reminds me of his eyes. others it’s the color of my coffee in the morning, that reminds me of his hair.

it doesn’t help that nearly all of Trevor’s stories from the past season, include Jamie in some way.

it’s been months, and i still hope to every higher power, that i’ll see him again. that he’s single and hoping to see me too.

i’m sprawled across the couch, my head in my eldest brother’s lap as the guys play chel.

i was reading a book, but that’s been long abandoned; now closed and resting on my chest as i daydream about the freckled disney prince like boy from Anaheim.

“hey.” my trance is broken when Quinn pokes my cheek. i glance up at him, tearing my eyes away from their zoned out glare at the tv. “you okay?”

“yeah, i’m fine.” i give him a small smile. “just wondering where Trevor is and if he can stay there. it’s so quiet.”

Quinn laughs, zoning back into the tv screen as a new game starts between Jack and Cole.

“he went to-” Quinn is cut off by the front door opening and Trevor’s loud voice echoing throughout the house.

“honey, i’m home!” Trevor calls out and Quinn and i share an exasperated glance. “and i brought a guest!”

my brows furrow together at his statement, listening to the two pairs of footsteps that get closer to the living room.

“guys, this is Jamie. you know him from… playing against him.”

my eyes go wide, my head snapping up as i quickly raise myself to a sitting position, accidentally kicking Jack in the groin from my feet having been in his lap.

Jack lets out a groan, doubling over, while Cole laughs and takes that as his chance to score a goal on him in the video game.

“Jimbo, this is Cole, Alex, Quinn, and Jack, who looks like his appendix burst.” Trevor introduces and Jack coughs, holding up his middle finger at his best friend. “and you already know y/n.”

at the mention of my name and the flick of Trevor’s finger towards me, Jamie’s eyes snap to me, a smile on his face.

“hi.” i grin, shuffling to my knees on the couch.

“hey, i’m glad to see you again. i didn’t know you would be here.” Jamie’s eyes light up, crinkling as his smile gets brighter.

“it’s her brothers’ house Jimmy, of course she’ll be here.” Trevor laughs, slapping Jamie’s back, whose eyes go wide as he realizes.

“oh- these are your brothers? you didn’t say they played hockey.” Jamie chuckles awkwardly.

“what?” Jack huffs from behind me. “not only have you met him? but you didn’t tell him about your dear old brothers?”

Jack wraps an arm around the front of my shoulders, pulling me back into him and ruffling my hair.

“get off me, jackass!” i break free from his hold, making him laugh. “i didn’t tell him who you are, but i did tell him how annoying you are.”

Jack gasps in mock offense, reaching out for me, but i clamber into Quinn’s lap.

“keep him away, Quinny!” i shriek, making all the guys laugh.

“Jack, leave her alone.” Quinn chuckles and Jack slumps back on his seat, rolling his eyes.

“you two are no fun.”

“hey mini Hughes?” Trevor starts, plopping down into the seat beside Jack. “you mind showing Jimmy to the empty room? i wanna beat Cole’s ass at chel.”

“sure.” i rise from Quinn’s lap, sending a smile towards Jamie as i motion for him to follow me. he picks up his suitcase, shuffling behind me through the house and up the stairs until i lead him into the empty room beside mine.

“here ya go. your room for the… however long you’re here.” he chuckles at my words, setting his suitcase down on the bed before he turns to me.

“ya know, i was hoping i’d see you again.” he confesses, my cheeks turning pink.

“yeah?” he nods, “me too.”

“i was enchanted to meet you that night.” his hand grabs ahold of mine, lacing our fingers together. “and then i realized i didn’t get your number, and it felt too weird to get it from Trevor. so, i was really hoping i would run into you next season, but here you are now.”

“here i am.” i bite my lip, glancing down at his lips before back at his eyes.

“would you wanna go out while i’m here?” he asks shyly. “like, on a real date?”

“i would love that, Jamie.” i take the chance while i feel bold, wrapping my arms around his neck, his following suit and coiling around my waist.

“yeah?” he replies giddily, his voice filled with excitement and nerves.

“yeah. i’d love that a lot.” his eyes flicker down to my lips before his tongue darts out to wet his own.

“hey, Jamie?” my words earn me a distracted hum in return. “you finally gonna kiss me now?”

“oh yeah.” he nods, causing me to giggle.

his head dips down, our noses brushing as his lips finally press against mine. my entire body melts into his, my hands cupping the back of his neck to pull him closer. our lips fit together perfectly, fire spreading throughout my body at the feeling.

and all i can think, is how enchanting this feeling is.

[martiny0rk]

Son's Game

Summary: What happens when jamie carries your son to his game by himself?

Word Count:792

Warnings: this was wrote before Jamie got resigned.

“i want mommy.” Noah says for the tenth time in the past minute, crossing his arms with a pout on his face, As his bangs kept going into his eyes and had a bright blue hockey jersey which brought out his big blue eyes that He definitely got from his dad.

“i told you, she’ll be here before your game starts.” Jamie says as he starts to tie his sons skates and makes sure they are tied good.

“aww, He misses his mommy?” one of the moms sitting on the bleachers near the rink she asks, obviously eavesdropping on the conversation.

“yeah.” Jamie says, chuckling as Noah buries his face into his chest in shyness. “she had an appointment this morning, but she will be here soon.”

Jamie is uncomfortable with the amount of attention the other moms give him. it’s probably because he always takes Noah to practice, leaving you home to cook dinner and give a quick tidy up or relax while he watches his adorable attempts of skating fast to make the puck into the goal. he loves being involved in his son's life even more so since he was taking a break from hockey.

“will this be his first game of the season?”

“it will.” he says kindly with a big smile as the Canadian in him wouldn’t let him be rude.

“mommy isn’t around much, huh?” the mom still pries, this time directing her question to Noah

Noah sniffles, trying to hold back his cries for a moment, before letting them out, “leave me alone, i want my mommy!” 

“i know, Noah.” Jamie says, shushing her, with a kind voice tries to stick up for his wife . “Noah’s mom, and my wife, is a wonderful mother who is very much invested in her son’s life. She is just also a busy woman, who runs her own business. just because i bring Noah to practice and games, doesn’t give you any right to speculate”

the woman frowns and finally turns away, which does make Noah stop crying, but doesn’t cheer him up enough to do anything but stay close to his dad.

“you better not be pouting over me.”

Noah being the mama’s boy he is instantly perks up at your voice. “mommy, mommy, mommy!” He launches himself at you, and you catch him in a hug.

“hi baby.” you hold him close making sure he doesn’t fall, letting him bury his head into your neck.

“hello, beautiful.” Jamie says as you lean down to give him a kiss. he deepens it with a hand on the back of your neck, hoping that all those other women trying (and failing embarrassingly) to flirt with him when he’s alone with Noah realize how head over heels he is in love with you.

“it’s almost time for your game, Noah .” Jamie says, noticing the other boys warming up.

“okay, daddy!” Noah hops up off your lap, grabbing his hockey stick carefully walking over to his other teammates. 

“i’m so glad i could make it.” you say, running your hand through Jamie’s hair and giving him another kiss as you watch Noah take the ice for warmups.

“me too. He’s so excited for you to watch. doesn’t even care about his dad.” he squeezes your side to show that he was joking. “how was your appointment?”

you’re about to answer when you hear a scoff. you look up, unbeknownst to you it’s the close friend of the woman flirting with jamie earlier. “is there a problem?” you were never one to back down from confrontation.

“appointment? what was this one for? getting your butt done just like your boobs?”

your mouth drops open in shock. you’ve never gotten any cosmetic surgery, but even if you had, it is not this womans business who you’ve never even seen before to comment on it.

“you know, i’m glad you think my natural boobs are so good that they’re fake. it’s a real compliment to me.”

“that’s not-” the woman goes to reply, but you cut her off.

“i bet you’re one of those weird moms who my husband has told me has been attempting to flirt with him and might I added your alittle too old for him. i’ll let you know to back off right now because the appointment i went to was a pregnancy check up. he’s very happy with me. he’s not interested in you.”

Jamie doesn’t even bother to hold back his laugh as she gets up and storms off with her mother gang to the other side of the rink

“she’s got a shit view now.” you laugh, turning your attention back to Noah, completely unbothered by the interaction.

“i love you.” Jamie grins

“I love you more”