#jamie made his bed and then he has to lie in it

[rosiesramblings]

Like Riding a Bike

Fandom: Ted Lasso

WC: 1.4k

A/N: Hello!! It's been a minute!! Sorry about that. Turns out my new job is actually insane. On the plus side, I am getting a ton of overtime lol. ANYWAY, thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy this fic, prompted by anon :) Can be read as platonic or pre-relationship.

“For grandad!”

Jamie’s shout echoed across the shadows of the park, and before he knew it Jamie had Roy balanced carefully on a perfectly-legal, not-at-all-stolen, authentic Amsterdam bike.

“Alright, now head up, hips square, aaaaand… pedal!” To his credit, Jamie did not laugh when Roy seemed to fall to the side in slow motion. He didn’t. Okay, maybe his lips twitched a little bit, but Jamie could easily blame that on a muscle spasm after all the exercise he’d done that day.

“It’s alright, good lad, good lad, right back on,” Jamie cheered, channeling his Mummy when she taught him to ride a bike as a sexy little baby. Roy did not seem to appreciate the encouragement the same way baby Jamie had, pushing grown-up Jamie back with a growl as he swung his leg back over the seat.

Clearly, Roy needed some extra help. This time, Jamie planted one hand on the back of Roy’s neck, and the other steady on Roy’s waist. Roy was tense underneath his fingers, but, Jamie figured, he was entitled to a little tension when he’s facing shit from his past. Losing his Grandad really fucked him up, and Jamie wasn’t going to begrudge the man his feelings, no matter how Roy tried to choke them into submission.

“Don’t need my fucking hand held,” Roy growled, undercutting his statement when Jamie let go and Roy immediately toppled sideways. “Fuck!”

“Alright, keep your trousers on, old man,” Jamie put his hands up in the universal ‘do no harm’ gesture. “Let’s try again, come on.” 

Roy gave a long suffering sigh, rolled his eyes so far back that Jamie was pretty sure he got a good look at his own brain, and swung his leg back over.

Jamie, trying to be a good friend, lightened his touch since Roy clearly wasn’t a fan of Jamie touching him in the first place. 

If possible, Roy got even more tense. “Oi!” He barked at Jamie. “I said don’t fucking need you for balance!” He claimed, scrunching his shoulders like Jamie always did when Sam wiggled his fingers under Jamie’s chin.

Now, Jamie wasn’t what anyone would call a genius. He wasn’t really book smart; the letters moved around too much for him to want to unscramble them. Because of this, people were constantly underestimating him, at least in the brains department. Look, Jamie might not be winning the Know Bell Prize or some shit any time soon, but that didn’t mean he was stupid. He knew what it looked like when a poor sod was ticklish and doing his damned best to hide it.

Jamie bit down on his tongue to hide a mischievous smile. “Look, mate, you don’t have to like it, but you need me until you can at least get a few meters on your own, yeah? C’mon, let’s do this, old man.”

Roy grumbled what Jamie figured was an assent, and Jamie placed his hands just firm enough that it could reasonably be interpreted as keeping Roy balanced, and not as a quest to get Roy Kent to laugh. Holy shit, did Roy giggle? This was going to be so damn fun.

Under Jamie’s light touch, Roy instantly tensed back up. Jamie risked a tease. “C’mon, mate, you’re never gonna keep your balance when you’re this stiff. You gotta loosen up a little,” Jamie squeezed Roy’s neck, and was rewarded with a growl that Jamie would bet his entire trainer closet was covering up a chuckle.

“You can fuck right off if you’re gonna keep talking instead of teaching,” Roy bit out.

“Right-o, Roy-o,” Jamie said cheerfully. “Look straight ahead, not at your toes, just like football, yeah? Otherwise the only place you’re going is down.” Jamie subtly moved his hand a little higher so that it was resting on Roy’s ribs. Roy made a sound like all the air had been punched out of him.

Jamie took his hand from Roy’s neck and used it to cover his smile. God, this made all the four am training sessions more than worth it. 

Instead of putting his hand back on Roy’s neck, Jamie decided to up the ante, and wormed his fingers under Roy’s armpit.

This seemed to be the last straw for Roy, who gave a shout and buckled to the side. Jamie went down with him, figuring the jig was up, and started playing Roy’s ribs like a goddamn piano.

“Shit - fuck - you shihihiitfucker - dahahahahahammit Tahahartt!” Roy broke, low, growly giggles (giggles! This was the best day of Jamie’s life.) and tried to curl away from Jamie’s fingers.

“Awww, what’s the matter, mate? Could it be the the big, bad, Roy fucking Kent is as ticklish as a little lad?” Jamie goaded, sneaking a hand underneath Roy’s hoodie and scribbling at his stomach.

Roy tossed his head back, a forced grin on his lips. Jamie was sure if his eyes were open there would be murder in them.  “Ihihihi’m gonna fuhuhucking KIHIHILL YOU!” Roy roared, his back arching.

“Roy, mate, this is fucking golden,” Jamie crowed, his smile splitting his face. Roy thrashed hard, harder than Jame was expecting. 

Jamie knew he was on borrowed time, so he wormed both of his hands into Roy’s underarms, and he was not disappointed.

Roy Kent. Fucking. Howled.

Jamie couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Oh my god, this is worse than I thought - mate, this is a fucking liability! How are you supposed to be ‘here, there, and every-fucking - woah!”

Quicker than Jamie could blink, Roy flipped their positions, and was looming about Jamie like a fucking werewolf. And looking at Jamie like he was a fucking steak.

“Roy, mate, it’s all in good fun, yeah? We don’t really have to -”

“Oh no, we abso-fucking-lutely have to,” Roy growled, a smile still in his voice despite the eyebrows he was giving Jamie.

That was all the warning Jamie got before Roy wrecked his shit. 

One hand went to Jamie’s hips, kneading like he was baking fucking bread or some shit. The other hand spidered over Jamie’s tummy, which was arguably worse.

“ROHOHOHOHOHOHOY,” Jamie screeched, tossing his head back, a smile splitting his face.

“Fucking what?”

“TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES.”

“I’d fucking well hope so,” Roy said, ruching up Jamie’s shirt in one smooth motion and scribbling across bare skin. “You’d better get used to this, cause we’re gonna be here for a while.”

“SHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT,” Jamie cursed, shaking his head back and forth.

“No? No, we’re not going to be here for a while? Or no, you can’t handle any more tickles? Cause I’m about to prove you wrong on both accounts,” Roy said as the hand squeezing Jamie’s hip moved down to torture his thigh instead.

Somehow, Roy’s growly voice saying ‘tickles’ made it tickle infinitely more. Jamie was no stranger to being tickled - since it was no longer ok to hit him, his teammates had to find other ways to get him to shut his mouth. But Roy was on another fucking level. And Jamie was losing his goddamn mind.

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE,” Jamie was not above begging.

“You want to see something that always gets Phoebe?”

“NOHOHOHOHOHO!”

“Too bad,” Roy said, and leaned down to blow a fucking raspberry above Jamie’s belly button.

In the tiny part of his brain that wasn’t going insane from the tortuous sensations, Jamie imagined telling his 10 year old self that one day he’d be lying down in a park in fucking Amsterdam, getting the absolute shit tickled out of him by his childhood hero. If Jamie could have laughed any harder, he would have.

“ROHOHOHOHOY,” Jamie wailed.

“You ever gonna try that shit again?”

“PROHOHOHOBABLY,” Jamie answered.

“Yeah, knew that was probably too much to ask,” Roy grumbled. “You gonna try that shit in front of anybody else?”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO,” Jamie promised.

“Fucking sure?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHEHES! PLEHEHEHEASE ROHOHOY!” Jamie begged, on the verge of insanity.

“Alright,” Roy said, and finally ceased his tickling.

Jamie curled up in a ball, tugging his shirt back down. He wiped the tears from his face, still giggling.

Roy ruffled Jamie’s hair. “Come on. I’m going to ride a bike tonight even if I blow out my other fucking knee.”

All Jamie could do was groan through his giggles.

[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. 

[moonstruckme]

ok so i have acne like not too bad but to the point where i’m like insecure about it but today my sister pointed it out and it made me embarrassed😭 but to the point could you maybe do smth with remus or james and a reader like that? if not that ok 🫶

Thanks for requesting!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 727 words

James tugs at your bottom lip gently with his teeth, and a mortifyingly needy sound tears from the back of your throat. He follows it with a series of soft, sweet kisses. You like knowing that he’s tender with you when he doesn’t need to be, his hands big and capable and impossibly kind as they skate over your curves. You hold nothing back, fingernails biting into his bare shoulders and letting your full weight rest on his hips where you both lie on the bed. 

His hand climbs up your back, keeping you close, and migrates upward to cup the back of your neck. You deepen the kiss. Your mouth is harsh and wanting against his, every inch of you buzzing, but when his hand moves to hold the side of your face, you freeze.

James feels the change instantly. He breaks the kiss and lets his head fall to the mattress, putting a couple of inches between you. He’s giving you a concerned, quizzical look.  

“Sorry,” you say, laughing at yourself. 

“S’alright.” The hand not on your face makes a pass up and down your hip, an attempt to soothe the nervousness he can sense but not place. “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” You cover his hand with yours and give him a small smile. “Sorry, just, it’s bumpy there.” 

James hums. Not in denial, but in confusion. “What about it?”

You recoil a bit at the acknowledgement, your skin heating. “Jamie,” you say, and your voice is soft, almost chiding. “It’s embarrassing.” 

His brows bunch. “Is it?” 

“Yeah.” A nervous laugh trips off your tongue. You can’t stop yourself from imagining what he’s feeling, the odd, oily bumps beneath his fingertips. “It is.” 

He finally takes the hint to move his hand from your face, stroking at the skin just under your ear instead. “Sorry, angel, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he says, eyes warm and earnest. “I hope you know that I don’t care about your acne, though.” 

Your acne. It’s stupid, but just the label sends a wave of shame through you. You hate that James has noticed it. That it’s not as imperceptible and unobtrusive as you like to pretend. You feel like such an idiot, thinking that if he didn’t touch it he’d never know. 

“You don’t?” Your tone is leaden with disbelief. 

“Honey.” James looks almost hurt, though for which one of you you’re not sure. His palm strokes your hip lovingly. “Of course not. It’s just your skin, you know? It’s not a big deal.” 

“I mean, I try to get rid of it,” you say, feeling as though you need to make your case. “I use a bunch of skincare products, pimple cream and all that. It just won’t ever all go away, I don’t know.” 

“That’s okay, that’s fine.” His hand moves to rub your back, and he shakes his head at you. “I mean, you can do whatever you want. You’ll always be beautiful.” 

Oh. Okay. Sure. You roll your eyes. “You have to say that.” 

He makes a funny face, appearing caught between laughter and bafflement. “No, I don’t.” He takes your face in his hand again, ignoring you when you protest. “The first thing you need to understand is that I’m not a prisoner in this relationship, angel. I am bewitched. You’re bewitching, understand?” You laugh, face growing warm beneath his hand. James smiles with you. “To be clear, I love you for more than your looks, but they do sweeten the deal. Nothing as silly as acne is going to make you less lovely. I signed on for the whole package, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want you any different.” 

“James.” You let your forehead rest on his, doing your very best not to think about the pimples you have there, too. You’re burning alive in your skin. “You’re too sweet to me.” 

“Just telling the truth, m’love.” He holds you steady to kiss the tip of your nose, and when his thumb soothes over the bumps on your cheek, the touch is so adoring your heart very nearly breaks. 

You kiss the stubble on his jaw. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” James grins as he dips back down to your mouth. When he pulls away, a playful light glints in his eyes. “Now, can I get back to showing you how much, please?”

[adharastarlight]

Tis The Season

Eight: Music

Jegulus smut with maybe... some plot? Sirius doesn't know (just like if you know me irl? you dont) about jegulus at all... anyway, there's a reason James always has his music on too loudly

“Turn the music down, James!”

The brunette heard his best friend's yell echo from across the hall but he wasn't listening. He was also one hundred percent sure that Sirius would rather hear the possibly too loud bass of his music than the noises his little brother was making.

“Sh-shit, Jamie, fuck,” Reg managed the words between gasped moans, nails digging into the older boy’s back.

He cursed, “that's it, baby, you're so fucking perfect.”

The younger whimpered, arching into him further and throwing his head back, exposing that beautiful neck. That neck he knew he wasn't meant to mark. But it was right there. It was taunting him. Regulus let out a gasped moan when his boyfriend started sucking and biting at his neck. He would've said something, that it was a bad idea maybe, if he wasn't slowly going insane with bliss. A slightly louder moan tore free from him, almost animalistic, when James reached between them to rub circles against his clit, slowly, faster, faster, fuck.

“So good for me, angel.” James grunted at the nails scratching down his back, his hips stuttering slightly, “I'm so close, fuck.”

“Jamie, merde.”

The brunette moaned into his neck, against the skin he'd probably bruised by now, cursing as his boyfriend came, clenching around him. His hips lost their rhythm as he came, pressing fleeting kisses against Reg's neck and shoulders and collar bones as he slowly lowered himself to lie on top of him.

Regulus let out a soft huff as the older man's weight pressed into him and reached up to card his fingers through his hair gently, “hi sweetheart.”

He smiled and reached over for the remote for the stereo, turning down the music and pressing a kiss to the other's temple, “you need to find a way to be quieter, angel.”

“We've music and you like it when I'm loud.”

“Sirius yelled for me to turn it down, he'll catch on at some point.”

“That's his problem, not mine.”

James laughed softly, “it'll be your problem when your boyfriend is hung drawn and quartered, my love.”

“He wouldn't hurt my boyfriend!”

“I mean in his defence, he has no idea-”

“...Stop making excellent points.” He kissed his nose and tugged on his hair gently, “I liked the new mixed tape.”

“I thought you would.”

Reg smiled, about to reply and ask when he'd made it, but a holler came up the steps again. Followed by impatient stomping on stairs.

“James! You arse! It's your bloody turn to cook dinner! What the fuck are you doing in here?” The handle of his room twisted but the door remained closed, the brunette muffling his laugh in his boyfriend's neck. “Why the fucking hell is your door locked? Prongs! Come and make dinner you arse!”

“Go.” The younger whispered it into his hair, shushing the protest he knew was coming, “I'm fine, my love, I'm great actually. I'll be even better if my brother doesn't come barging in here. Go on.”

“Prongs!”

“Coming, I'm coming! Chill, Pads.” He pulled away reluctantly and kissed the figure smiling under him before rolling out of the bed and tugging on his boxers and joggers. He chuckled softly when his boyfriend lobbed his tee at him, lowering his voice to a whisper, “what's this for?”

Regulus grinned and tugged the duvet over himself, “you've scratches.”

“You're such a cat.”

“And you're such a stag, now shoo.”

The older boy scoffed and tugged on the tee before slipping out of his door, making sure it closed behind him before his best mate could look in, “you're very impatient, Pads.”

Sirius scanned him curiously, but merely shrugged and started walking downstairs, “what were you even doing? You're all flushed.”

“Pull-ups, sorry about the music, didn't realise how loud it was when I was in the moment.”

“It's alright, you're lucky Reggie doesn't mind that kind of music.”

“Yeah, really lucky.” He smiled to himself and clapped his mate on the back, “right, what d'you want for dinner?

***

“Reg!!! It's dinner!”

Regulus groaned at his brother's holler and rolled out of the bed he'd buried himself back into after his quick shower. He grabbed his shirt from the side and cursed under his breath at the state of it. They'd maybe been a little frantic to get the clothes off earlier.

“Regulus!”

“I'm coming you grumpy old dog!” He called back, reaching into his boyfriend's wardrobe for one of his tees which fell just above his knees, foregoing his boxers and trousers because… making said boyfriend suffer was awfully good fun.

James looked up as the younger boy walked into the lounge and almost choked. He also almost dragged him back up to his room. He was starving, but the plate in front of him had never looked so unappetising.

“Finally! What took you so long, étoile?”

He shrugged and settled into his spot, the one between James and the arm of the sofa. Which he honestly had made his, before he actually knew where the man who would become his boyfriend sat. He could feel the probably-not-subtle eyes running over him and smiled, “dinner looks good.”

His brother nodded and flopped into the armchair near them, picking up the remote, “I love mum and dad but I might love eating in front of the tv more.”

Regulus nodded and forced a shiver, tugging the blanket over himself and the brunette, “me too. It's far more relaxed.”

His boyfriend grinned at him and moved his hand to his inner thigh, brushing against where he'd expected to find boxers and stifling a groan by stuffing a mouthful of pasta into his mouth. He glanced at his best friend whose attention was affixed to the screen and dipped his hand between his thighs, brushing lightly against his clit.

“Oh, Reggie, Pandora called.”

He raised an eyebrow at his brother, ignoring the teasing touches as best as he could, “she did?”

“Yeah, asked about going to the city centre tomorrow, the library. I said you'd call if you couldn't go but otherwise meet her there at eleven.”

James waited for the moment his boyfriend opened his mouth to pinch his clit, just hard enough to elicit a sharp inhale.

“Oh, yeah, that's great. I'll definitely g-” he forced back a moan as a finger slipped into him, curling up to brush his gspot, “go-oh.”

Sirius glanced over at the stuttered word and furrowed his brows, “you okay, Reggie?”

“Yeah, yea-” he clenched his jaw when his boyfriend repeated the motion and had a sip of his water, smiling sheepishly at his brother, “hiccups, sorry.”

He shrugged and turned back to the tv. James waited a moment to ensure he wasn't going to turn back around and pushed a second finger into him, curling and stroking until he was fairly certain the it other's teeth were grinding together. He leaned over slightly, whispering against the shell of his ear, “so pretty and desperate for me, angel. In my shirt and nothing else. Practically begging me to fuck you, hm?”

Reg let out a quiet whimper, making sure his voice was just as quiet when he replied, “is this you - fuck - teaching me to be quiet?”

“Mm. You're doing so well, baby.”

“Fuck, Jamie, please.”

The brunette smirked and rubbed his thumb against his clit, moving his fingers just too slowly, “if you're quiet you can come whenever you want, angel.”

He bucked his hips into the contact slightly before nodding, biting his lip hard enough to draw the faintest blood to hold back a moan when his boyfriend sped up. His shoulders slumped into the sofa behind him as he focused on being quiet, only a quiet gasp leaving him when he came, head thrown back slightly, back arched up the tiniest amount.

James drew his hand back and waited until his boyfriend was looking at him to suck his fingers clean. He smirked at the almost silent whimper, mouthing ‘good boy’ and watching the younger boy crumble on the spot.

They were going to need louder music.

[its-time-to-write]

This may be a bit of a strange idea (Feel free to ignore this request)

But since your about Jaime Tartt baby fic. I had the thought of Jaime trying to give reader a break takes the baby in a stroller to training with Roy and Roy is just kind of like WTF and other hijinks ensue like maybe someone flirts with Jamie with the baby or roy gets left with the baby at somepoint or Reader is freaken out cause the baby is gone. IDK just an idea that has been stuck in my head since I read your baby fic

Dude this request was not strange AT ALL. It was actually nice because it was similar to something I wanted to write, and I haven’t been able to do that because I’ve been doing requests. THANK YOU.

i’ll still be right next to you my dear

Your daughter Bea is five months old. You’re still sleep-deprived, but less than you were a month ago. Jamie does his absolute best as her dad and your husband, but the weight of it still falls to you. Things have gotten considerably less tense, too, since you moved out of the flat and back into your house. It was weird at first, both you and Jamie walking on little eggshells around each other. 

The tension was broken with an all-hands-on-deck moment at 1am, when Bea had a stomach bug or something, and you two had no choice but to just laugh in resignation at the sheer enormity of the mess she made. There go the beginnings of sleep training. 

Bea had her own schedule, one that involved being an early bird like her dad. She would wake up five to ten minutes before his 3:30 alarm went off, and it got to the point where he barely even set it anymore. 

Jamie would get out of bed, throw on some pants, change her, and then zip through his morning routine. He’d put her back to bed, give you a half-awake kiss, then be out the door before Roy could knock. 

(Roy made that mistake early on, waking Bea. You thoroughly chewed him out in an exhausted rage. Jamie says it’s the closest thing he’s ever seen to Roy crying).

Anyway, at 3:55 this Saturday morning, Jamie kisses you, says, “I’ve got Bea, so sleep in,” and is gone before you even know what’s happening. 

You flop back on the pillow and are out in seconds. 

—

“The fuck is this?” Roy says the moment Jamie steps out the door, pushing a happy Bea in her jogging stroller.

“The fuck does it look like?” Jamie replies. “Her mum needed sleep, so Bea’s joining us for training.” He leans over the stroller to look at his daughter and coos, “Isn’t that right, angel?”

Bea makes a delighted gurgle and Roy grunts.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me the great Uncle Roy is daunted by a silly wee baby?” Jamie says, grinning. “You are Bea’s favorite.”

Roy glares at Jamie. “Don’t fucking lie to me, everyone knows Sam’s her fucking favorite. She even likes fucking Isaac better than me.”

Jamie pouts. “Don’t listen to him, Bea. We know you love Uncle Roy, even though he’s being a twat.”

Roy just grunts and looks at Bea. “You know how I feel about you, kid,” he says. She babbles. She knows. 

“Alright, come on. Suppose the stroller gives your dad some extra weight while he runs.”

Jamie grins, and starts jogging down the street.

—

You wake up to the sound of silence. No Bea, no Jamie. Just birds chirping and the sun shining. You squint at the clock. 8:37am. You reach for your phone and see a selfie from Jamie of him, Bea, and Roy marked 7:02am with the caption, headed to breakfast! 

You now have a hazy recollection of Jamie saying something about taking Bea when he left, but it felt like a dream at the time. The silence makes more sense now. 

You smile and send heart emojis. I love you! you type. 

love u 2, Jamie replies. Then: I hope that was for me not Roy?

You shake your head. That boy. He thinks he’s a comedian.

You roll out of bed and stretch. Time for a nice, long shower, then a good coffee from Jamie’s complementary espresso machine. You’re not gonna lie, there are certain perks to being married to a footballer.

—

Meanwhile, Jamie and Roy have stopped for breakfast at a café that Roy says fits in with Jamie’s diet. He says no coffee and Jamie makes a disgusted face and replies you’re not the boss of me, which is why they’re letting Bea decide if Jamie gets coffee or not by seeing who will get her to smile first. 

Jamie wins, of course. It’s part of being a dad. 

They’re sitting at a table outside till 9am, Bea out of her stroller and in Jamie’s arms. They’re on their third cups of coffee and Bea’s draining her bottle of formula like there’s no tomorrow. Jamie is in the middle of stroking Bea’s nose (a miniature version of yours) and watching her eyes blink slow, when two girls walk up to their table. 

“Ohmygod, no way, is that your baby?” one girl asks. 

Jamie looks up and gives a polite, perfunctory, “yeah,” and turns back to Bea. Roy’s sitting back in his seat, ready to watch this unfold. 

“It is like, so totally adorable. There’s something so sweet about a baby, don’t you think?” the other girl says, putting her hand on Jamie’s shoulder. He shifts away as politely as he can. 

“I just think that like, men with babies are so much hotter than men without babies,” girl 1 continues, oblivious to Jamie, who has shifted Bea onto his chest and is displaying his left hand as conspicuously as possible. He taps Bea’s back with his ring finger in what he hopes is an absentminded manner. 

Roy holds back a snort.

“Especially single dads,” says girl 2. “Soo hot. I’ll give you my number if you ever need a babysitter.”

She’s barely done speaking when Jamie blurts out, “I’m married.” He looks so harried that this time Roy can’t hold back a laugh. The girls turn to him with a glare, then back to Jamie. 

“She doesn’t have to know,” says one of them. 

“Pretty sure she does,” Jamie replies. “And anyway, I ain’t interested. Have a good morning.”

Bea, the angel that she is chooses that exact moment to start burping. 

The girls give her a disgusted look and turn away. 

Roy looks at Jamie, eyebrows raised and a ghost of a smile on his face. “Nice fucking move with the ring finger,” he says. “If it were me, I’d’ve fucking given them a different fucking finger.”

“That’s where you and me differ, granddad,” Jamie replies, wiping spit up off his vest (waterproof, thank god), “I’m a gentleman.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 

— 

The windows are open, the laundry is spinning, and you’re dancing around the house. You love Bea, but god you also love good rest. And a clean house. And Jamie Tartt. Man, you love him. You can’t believe he took Bea out for the whole morning and knowing him and Roy, they’ll be out until at least 11am. You smile. That gives you time to head to the shops and pick up some flowers, which will make you feel like a civilized human being, one who has her life together and can take care of her child and her husband and maybe, just maybe, one who is in the mood to get laid tonight. 

—

Jamie and Roy are strolling through Richmond, passing by shops and enjoying what feels like the first lovely day in ages. Jamie hasn’t heard from you since you asked is this shirt clean or dirty? with a picture near the washing machine. He knows Saturday cleaning is like a ritual to you, one you picked up in high school and carried on through college. You have a system and you take your time, windows open and music playing. He can picture you spinning around the house putting things away, and that mental image is enough to make his face split into a smile. He remembers the Saturdays you spent before Bea, you cleaning and dancing, and him, well, not helping but certainly dancing with you and promising that he’ll give you more dirty sheets to wash if you’d just take a tiny little break? In the bedroom? With no clothes on because they need to be washed, wink wink?

It usually worked. 

You’d lay in bed for precisely ten minutes afterward, take a no-nonsense shower, then kick him out of the house. He’d be gone for an hour, buying you that chocolate you liked and whatever flowers he thought suited the day. There’s a good thought. He should get you flowers, a reminder of their early days of romance. And maybe, just maybe, Bea can sleep soundly enough that they can revive other traditions, too. 

���Roy,” Jamie begins.

“No.”

“Oi, you didn’t even let me finish!” he says indignantly.

“Fine. What do you fucking want.”

“It ain’t for me,” Jamie says, “it’s for Bea. And my wife. I want to get her flowers, but it ain’t easy to push the stroller and look. Can you take Bea around the green? I’ll come find ya when I’m done.”

Roy stares at Jamie, and Jamie is sure he’s going to say no. But then Roy walks around to the front of the stroller and crouches down in front of Bea. 

“If your dad fucking goes and gets flowers for your mum, do you promise to be alright for twenty minutes? I know I’m not fucking Sam or Isaac, but Phoebe thinks I’m a good uncle. She’s a proper fucking dweeb, but a good judge of character.”

Bea just stares at him. Roy slaps his thighs and stands up. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Jamie grins and says, “Bye, Beatrice. Be good for Uncle Roy.” He gives her a kiss on her forehead, a boop on the nose, and is gone, weaving through Richmond, man on a mission. 

“Your mum’s a fucking saint for putting up with him,” Roy says to Bea. Bea says nothing. She’s fallen asleep. Roy shrugs and starts pushing her in the direction of the green. Better asleep than crying. 

—

You’re showered, dressed, with just a touch of makeup, and you’re on your way to the flower shop. There’s this little one you and Jamie used to go to. You know the owner a little, but you suppose Jamie knows her better because he’s been in more. She’s about the age of his mum, and has a soft spot for him. He overpays and always leaves one flower for her. He hasn’t had the time to be over since Bea, so you say hello and show her some baby pictures, and then some of Bea and Jamie. You both laugh over your favorite, Jamie passed out on the couch, mouth open, wearing gray sweatpants and a single sock, with Bea on his stomach in a gray onesie and a single sock. She’s drooling on him and his hair’s a mess, but you think it’s adorably hilarious. Like father, like daughter. 

Now, you’re perusing the flowers. It smells wonderful, the warm weather diffusing the fragrances through the shop. You turn a corner and bonk straight into a man with his back turned to you. You open your mouth to apologize and he turns, and out comes, “Jamie?”

He smiles and you peer behind him. “Where’s Bea? Oh my god Jamie, did you lose our daughter? She had better be close by, I swear to god, Jamie Tartt, how do you lose an entire baby, especially one as noisy as Bea?!” 

You’re oblivious to Jamie’s attempts to interrupt your rant, so when you pause for a breath he says, “love.”

You turn to face him, from where you were trying to stand on your tiptoes hoping for a glimpse of Bea’s stroller. 

“I didn’t lose her. She’s with Roy. D’you really think I’m that irresponsible?” 

He looks so hurt that you realize what you’ve been saying. Your hands fly up to your mouth. Of course Jamie wouldn’t lose Bea. He loves her. He looks at her as though she makes the stars shine. 

“Babe. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just wasn’t expecting to see you, and then I wasn’t expecting to see you without Bea, and I thought I’d surprise you by getting flowers before you both got back, and-” you stop. Jamie is gently holding your face and smiling, no longer hurt. 

“Babe,” he says, “love of me life and best mum around, it’s ok. I know whatcha mean.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Bit funny we had the same idea, innit?”

You smile. You’d been so caught up in your split-second worry about Bea, you didn’t even realize what was happening. 

“Guess some things don’t change,” you reply. “You pick out any good ones?”

Jamie places his hand over his heart. “Love. I only pick out good ones. I picked you, didn’t I?” You laugh at his sparkling eyes, and put your hands on his waist, pulling him close. 

“Pretty sure I picked you,” you reply. 

Jamie hums. “That’s a fuckin lie, and you know it.”

Your feeble retort is cut off by his lips on yours. 

—

You and Jamie walk toward the green, hand in hand. He’s holding bright yellow daffodils in the other. 

Jamie spots Roy first. “Oi!” he yells, “look who I found!”

You wave, jog over to Bea, and crouch down. “Hi baby! I missed you! Did you have fun with Uncle Roy?” Bea babbles at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh good,” you reply, “he is your third-favorite uncle, after all.”

Roy nods. “You fucking get it. Jamie tried to feed me this fucking bullshit that I was fucking number one.”

“Jamie!” you say. “Everyone knows it goes Sam, then Isaac, then Roy.”

Jamie puts his hands up defensively. 

“Honesty,” Roy says, “Such an admirable quality. Remind me again why you’re with this fucking prick?”

You pretend to think for a moment then say, “For his money.”

Jamie says “Oi!” so you quickly amend, “And his smokin’ hot body.”

Jamie nods, satisfied. “That’s better.”

Roy is looking at Jamie in disgust. “You two are so fucking adorable, it’s fucking disgusting. C’mon Bea. I see Sam over by that bench. Let’s give these fucking idiots some time alone.”

You and Jamie turn to each other. 

“He said we’re adorable,” you say, grinning. 

“He said we get alone time,” Jamie says, grinning back. 

“Roy!” you call, “how much time do we have?”

“Three hours!” Sam yells back. “I want to walk Bea to my restaurant!”

You and Jamie turn back to each other, giddy. 

“You know what that means,” you say. 

“Sex,” he replies immediately. 

You laugh and grab his hand. “C’mon, babe. Let’s enjoy our alone time.”

As you walk away, Jamie says, “Oi, need to tell you about these girls who were trying to flirt with me. But don’t worry, I gave them the finger.” He holds up his ring finger and you slap his arm. 

“This is why I love you.”

“Really? And here I only thought you were with me for my money,” he replies. 

“And your hot body. Don’t forget that one,” you say. 

“How could I forget?” he says. “When we get home, let’s put it to some good use.

[beybaldes]

I know why we had to say goodbye like the back of my hand

summer sleepover masterlist

jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary : “am i supposed to just let you go?” / “for what it’s worth, i really am sorry”

content warning : technically a part 2 ‘I’d go back in time and change it but I can’t,’ can be read stand alone, more protective!roy and bestfriend!colin, Jamie’s past is held against him and it hurts his feelings because he has changed, two uses of yn, jamie being clueless, angstyish

an : can you tell I’m obsessed with Taylor’s music? Better man is one of the best vault tracks to exist fight me I listened to it the whole time writing this fic.

Christmas and New years come and go and when the first day back at the dog track comes around you’ve almost forgotten about Jamie entirely.

You haven’t spent a single minute of the holidays thinking of him, and yet, he’s spent every single minute of it thinking about you. In no more then 10 seconds, you’d shattered whatever hope he’d had left that maybe, just maybe, he could heal things over between the two of you. And even after that, you’d still wished him a merry Christmas. He was going to get fucking whiplash if things carried on like this.

It was exactly that which had brought him to Keeley’s doorstep at 6am on New Year’s Day. Roy answers the door and he’s still in what he assumes is lasts nights clothes. Even though Roy doesn’t particularly like Jamie, not after what he did to you, he knows Jamie wouldn’t show up here without reason, so he invites him in. He guides Jamie through to the living room and says he’s going to get Keeley but that they’ll be right back. Jamie knows he must look rough if Roy wants to sit in on the conversation too.

There’s glitter on the floor after the party Jamie wasn’t invited to. He’s knows you were here last night. You may still have him blocked on everything, but Colin doesn’t, and fuck, does Colin love posting you. Posting pictures of you all dressed up for the new year, looking perfect as ever, posting videos of the two of you on his story, taking shots together or dancing ridiculously around Keeley’s living room. Part of him knows that in another life, one where he had been a better man sooner, it would’ve been him in Colin’s place; dancing with you at a party, sharing drinks with you, and if he was really lucky, maybe even sharing a kiss at midnight.

“Jamie! Hi! Hey! What are- what are you doing here, babe?” Jamie can tell she’s just as surprised as Roy was to find him here, but that doesn’t deter him from why he came. He knows there’s only one way that he can become a better man, and that’s by trying. “Here, have a pillow.”

Keeley makes sure each of them have a bright, pink pillow in their laps before she encourages Jamie to talk, leaning forward across her own pillow to show Jamie she’s really listening. Even Roy seems open to hearing him out, stretching his arms out across the back of Keeley’s sofa.

“I need to know how I can make things better with yn.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Jamie’s barely got his words out when Roy’s growled at him and Keeley’s smacked Roy in his chest. He takes her hand gently in his and holds it in his lap and Jamie almost winces at the sweet nothingness of the action. “I mean, they’ve told you to leave them alone, so, leave them alone.” Jamie thinks Roy’s changed too, until a mere second later, he lets out the fakest cough known to mankind. “Prick.”

“Oi, I didn’t come here to get bullied by a pensioner, I came here for actual advice.” And just like that Jamie had slipped back into the shell of the person he’d been trying to leave behind. People like Roy made it all too easy, picking on his weak spots with the smallest of words, and causing all his progress to come crashing down.

“What Roy means…” Keeley interrupted, breaking up the bickering before it could ever even really begin. “Is that you made your bed Jamie, now you’ve got to lie in it. If they don’t want to forgive you, or most on from the past, then that’s their choice. You can’t force anyone to forgive you.”

“But everyone else has.” Jamie whined, head thrown back against one of Keeley’s many throw pillows as he took to lying on the settee instead. “I don’t understand why they won’t. I’m trying so…” Jamie paused, sucking in a long breath. He was trying so hard to be better and he couldn’t say that because strong men didn’t need to be better, strong men didn’t want to change for the people they loved. The smaller voice, the one that grew a little louder day in and day out, said the opposite; strong men do change for the people they love, they apologise and they acknowledge their mistakes (even when it hurts to do so). “I just don’t get why they won’t forgive me when almost everyone else has.”

“Did you happen to forget that, out of everyone, yn is the one you actually, literally, cheated on?” Silence fell over Keeley’s living room for the first time in almost 24 hours, and Jamie was sure he’d never heard something so loud in his life. “That maybe, more then anything, more then an apology, what they want is for you to explain why you did what you did?”

“No one wants to know why.” Jamie scoffed, thinking of the multiple apologies he’d make to partners in his lifetime. Each and everyone wanted an apology, he would give it to them, they’d fuck one last time, and then break up on ‘mutual’ terms claiming that it was ‘for the best’. Obviously, he didn’t want things to go like that with you, he wanted to really apologise and for you to really forgive him, and then for the two of you to work on building a friendship between the two of you. But that didn’t mean he’d ever have expect you to want to know why he did what he did. “They want an apology, and for you to seem sorry, and then that’s usually it.”

Keeley eyed him suspiciously, eyes like daggers in a way unusual and unnerving to Jamie. “You don’t know why you did it, do you?”

Jamie can feel Roy’s hand curl into a fist from across the room and he’s sure that if he was any closer he’d be able to hear his blood boiling. “No.” Jamie answers instantly and honestly. “No. I don’t. That’s just who I was then.”

“That’s bullshit.” Roy’s been speaking more then Keeley has and Jamie’s wishing he’d come over for the help at a different time. “You had a year? Two years? To come up with a reason, and that’s all you’ve got?”

Jamie wants to argue. It’s his instinct to argue. To get in some brutal back and forth debating which of them was right about the matter, ultimately say something he shouldn’t, and upset Keeley by upsetting Roy just so he can get out of the conversation. The smaller voice inside his head that’s getting louder tells him the right thing to do, the thing a good man would do, is be honest. So that’s what he does. “They really cared about me, more then anyone ever had, yeah?” Jamie sits up on the sofa, leans his elbows against his knees and hangs his joined hands between his open legs, pulling at his fingers. “Do you know how scary that is? Everyone who was supposed to care about me just ends up hurting me. So, I beat them to it. Hurt them before they can hurt me.”

Keeley and Roy try and get more out of Jamie but he decides he’s been vulnerable enough today and that he has a lot to think about. He spends the remainder of his time off before the season begins again hiding in his bedroom, and thinking about what he did wrong like a told off child.

He decides that on the first day back at the dog track, he’s going to explain everything to you. He’s going to fully embody the better man he’s been trying to become, the man he knows, that once upon a time you knew, he could be.

Thankfully, you have a very peaceful first day back at the dog track. Colin and Isaac come and eat lunch in your office with you, Will hangs around throughout the afternoon helping you with some errands, and Roy brings you coffee at 4 when he knows he’s heading out for the day but you’ve still got some work to do. You’ve barely taken a sip of the saving grace when Jamie enters your office and locks the door behind him. You simply ignore him, continuing to tap away on your laptop and blocking out the image of his puppy dog eyes from your brain.

“Look, can we just talk, yeah?” It seemed Jamie had a way of making you angry by even suggesting he had a right to your time; you stopped typing even though you didn’t mean to. “I want to apologise, and explain, and even if we can’t be friends again, I just don’t want things to be weird anymore.”

“And who’s fault is it that things are weird?” You asked, closing your laptop and leaning back in your chair, creating as much space between the two of you as possible.

“I know, mine, just let me talk, yeah?” Jamie knew he had to get the words out before you interrupted him again or he’d never say them, never give you the explanation Roy had explained, and Jamie had come to understand, you deserved. “I hurt you because I didn’t want you to hurt me. You know what my dads like, what the other people I’ve dated have been like, and every single one of them leaves. And you didn’t, and you didn’t look like you were going too either.” Jamie took a deep breath, holding his own hands to stop them from shaking. “That was so scary, to me, to have someone care about me like that. And, I don’t know, my brain made me think, like, that you were just waiting to hurt me sooner or later, so I should hurt you first.”

You’d fallen completely silent and it entirely unnerved Jamie. All of it made too much sense and a part of you felt so bad for the way you’d acted these past few months. However, you also knew that while Jamie’s insecurities was an explanation to why he did what he did, that it wasn’t an excuse.

“And I couldn’t just break up with you, because I didn’t want to, and I know my actions might not have show it, but I really loved you. And, yeah, I should’ve talked about it instead of sleeping with someone else and getting you to end things, but I didn’t know how to do that back then.” Jamie sucks in a shaky breath and a part of you yearns to hug him, to tell him to not get worked up about it, but you stay in your seat. “And it fucking sucked because I got what I wanted. And I felt so good about it, that you’d hurt me by breaking up with me and that I’d been right, and then I just felt sad.” For the first time since entering your office, Jamie looks at you. “And I just wanted to let you know, that it was never your fault that I did it, it was mine.”

A long silence took over the office, neither you nor Jamie speaking or even breathing as you took in the weight of the words just said to you. Everyone had been telling you for months now that Jamie had changed and you’d been so adamant it was a ruse, but here he was, pouring his heart out to you with the best apology you think he’s ever given, and proving he was a better man.

You stood from your chair, grabbed your bag and half drunk coffee, and tucked the chair under the desk. As you grabbed your laptop and notebook to take home with you, you finally spoke up. “Thank you for explaining Jamie, you don’t know how good it is to hear that after everything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jamie brow creased and he moved to step closer to the door, stopping you from leaving immediately. “What? So, that’s it?” When you didn’t answer, Jamie took a step forward, reaching his hand out for yours and finding himself surprised when you didn’t push him away. “Am I supposed to just let you go?”

“You know, Jamie, I missed you every minute of every day for the first 8 months, and then I just wished you had been better.” You squeezed his hand gently and for a moment Jamie felt like he’d woken up from some bad dream and he was still where he was 2 years ago. “And then, I woke up one day, and I didn’t think of you at all.” Jamie knew he’d been a dick, he knew he’d hurt you in a way no one deserved to be hurt, he knew you loved him and he pushed that love away like you’d been offering him a loaded gun instead of the key to your heart. “You would’ve been the one if things had been different, but they weren’t different. And that’s okay, but that means you need to let me go.”

Jamie felt sick to his stomach, god, he couldn’t imagine anything worse to happen to him, and yet, he’d done it all to himself. “Im always going to love you, J.” For 2 years Jamie had imagined you saying those exact words to him, forgiving him for his mistakes and turning things back to how they used to be. It shouldn’t be breaking his heart to hear what he’d hoped, and dreamt, and spent sleepless nights praying for.

Jamie let you leave then, stepping away from the door with a downcast look across his face, and finally pulling himself away from your touch. What if he never got to touch you so softly again? What if this was the last time he ever heard you tell him you loved him? What if this was the last time you let him in your door? “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”

“I know Jamie, I am too.” You took a step forward, but not towards the door, wrapping your arms gently around Jamie, humming against his neck when his fingers clawed into your shirt and his lips trembled against your temple. “I am too.”

You left your office together and walked Jamie to his car, you said no when he offered you a lift home and he didn’t beg you to accept it. Even if you had said yes, you doubted he knew the drive from the dog track to your new place, and you didn’t want to hurt him more by letting him find out he didn’t know you like he knew the back of his hand anymore.

Tomorrow morning the team will be surprised by the fact you say good morning to everyone including Jamie, but for right now, alone in the empty Nelson Road car park, Jamie finally gets it, and he finally mourns the love he once lost.

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen: Let’s Do This Right

Plot: Jamie and Y/n settle into their new relationship and Ted makes a shocking announcement.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: f!reader, allusion to smut, light innuendo, language

A/N: We are finally over the angst hump and into happier times 🥰 Thanks y’all for sticking through the storm 😂 Hope you guys enjoy this one! We’re almost done 😭

—————

Waking up sober with the man you loved was an entirely different experience than doing it drunk.

Y/n traced the sharp edges of Jamie’s face as he slept, content to stare at him forever. He was snoring lightly, his face twitched every once in a while indicating he was probably dreaming. It was peace beyond what she could fathom.

It had been three days since the Man City match and the two of them had barely left the house. Jamie was cleared of any injury by day #2, but he swore on his life that he needed Y/n to stay in case he relapsed. She’d pointed out that an unbroken, un-sprained, un-fractured ankle had a slim chance of backsliding. Jamie’s rebuttal consisted of viciously attacking her with his lips on the couch. They made the mutual decision she’d stay in the name of recovery.

Jamie’s eyes drowsily opened, landing on Y/n. “Watching me sleep again?”

“Mm-hm,” her smile was lazy.

“Creep,” Jamie teased, rolling onto his back and rubbing at his eyes. He didn’t think there was a better thing to wake up to than her eyes on him.

“Part of the perk package,” Y/n shrugged.

Jamie turned back onto his side, tugging his girlfriend to him. “Thought you were scared of me,” he said, his voice was gravelly with sleep.

Y/n reached up and ran her fingers over his cheek. “Terrified,” she whispered playfully.

Ignoring the morning breath sensation, Jamie captured her lips in a slow kiss. They hadn’t done much else for 72 hours. For all the weeks he’d pined for her, Jamie was enjoying not having to hold back any longer.

Y/n hummed against the kiss, ever the more sensible of them. “We can’t be late,” she said in between kisses.

“We can be late,” Jamie rolled on top of her.

“No,” Y/n elongated the syllable, “We cannot. How many times has Ted called a full staff meeting?”

Jamie deepened his kisses, trying his best to derail her train of thought. “Loads of times.”

Y/n was unable to challenge the lie with Jamie’s mouth glued to hers. She pressed a hand to his chest and pushed, which only made Jamie hold her tighter.

“Jamie-“

“It’s gonna be some team motivational shit,” he argued, tracing her form through the borrowed t-shirt of his, “West Ham’s next weekend. We’ll be doin’ trust falls and watching movies about friendship. We can miss it.”

Just as he was going in for another kiss, Y/n slid her hand between their lips.

“Then we’d better get there before all the good partners are taken,” she countered, pecking Jamie’s nose before slipping out from under him.

Jamie groaned dramatically and fell face-first into the pillows. If everyone else had been second priority when Y/n and him were just friends, nothing and nobody fucking mattered now that they were together.

“Get up,” Y/n ordered as she padded across the floor to Jamie’s dresser. She’d convinced him to let her go home once to grab clothes.

“Fine,” Jamie moaned, flopping onto his back, “But the second it’s done, we’re comin’ right back here,” he drilled his finger into the bed. “We can’t chance my recovery.”

Y/n laughed, looking back at the mess of a man watching her every move. Hair falling in his face, sleepy eyed and pouting, he’d never looked more perfect.

“Deal.”

—————————

Word had spread quickly around Nelson Road that there was a new couple alert.

Jamie and Y/n entered the building hand in hand, giggling to themselves over something he’d said, and were welcomed to a flood of congratulations. From the physios to the security guards, everyone seemed to be taking joy in the two of them finally getting together.

Jamie held the door open as they entered the press room. Any and all conversations came to a halt, all their friends and teammates hooting and hollering at their appearance. Y/n rolled her eyes but grinned through the whole thing. Just before taking a seat with the boys, Jamie kissed her and the whole room exploded. Y/n shoved him away, sharing a sensational smile as they separated.

“So,” Rebecca said teasingly, “He allowed you two to leave the house.”

“She hasn’t answered one of my texts since we got back,” Keeley interjected, coming to stand on the other side of Y/n, “Been busy nursing him back to health, have you?”

Y/n could feel her cheeks heating up and kept her eyes focused ahead of her. Jamie was fielding several high fives and back slaps from the boys. “This is a workplace,” she tried to pull her lips straight.

“Of course. You want to focus on work,” Keeley nodded, “I’m sure it’s been very stressful, making sure Jamie’s comfortable, attending to all his needs.”

Rebecca snorted quite loudly.

“I hate you both,” Y/n tried her hardest not to giggle.

Before any more innuendos could be birthed, Y/n spotted a face on the far end of the room she’d only ever seen through screens.

Nathan Shelley.

“So Jamie wasn’t kidding,” she commented. The team’s text chain had spilled the news that Ted was rehiring their former coach. “Excuse me.”

Y/n walked the edge of the room, stopping in front of Nate, who looked a bit nervous. “Hi,” she stuck her hand out, “We haven’t met yet. I’m Y/n.”

“Oh,” Nate smiled, “Nathan. Ted told me you took over for Keeley.”

“Yeah,” she replied sweetly, “I’ve been handling PR, helping the boys out with interviews…dealing with unpleasant headlines created by other club’s coaches.”

Nate’s face dropped, he swallowed hard. “Oh.”

Y/n crinkled her nose, “Yeah.”

“I-I do want to apologize if I made your job a-any harder,” Nate stuttered, pulling his now sweaty palm from Y/n’s grip, “It’s uh, it’s a bit complicated but-“

“Look,” Y/n kindly stopped him, “Clearly a lot of things went down before I ever got here. If Ted trusts you, I trust Ted. Just,” her stare turned more somber, “Don’t fuck with us again.”

Nate shook his head quickly, “No. Never.”

“Good,” Y/n smiled and patted Nate’s shoulder, “Glad you’re here.”

Y/n turned on her heel and returned to her spot. Nate didn’t feel threatened so much as firmly reminded that if he ever lashed out at AFC Richmond again, there was one more person who would be displeased with him.

Just then, Ted stepped up to the front of the room, Beard in tow. “Alright, chatty Kathys and Kens. Let’s press pause on the small talk.”

The room’s attention redirected to the head coach.

“Now, first off, let me take a minute to congratulate y’all again on our win against Man City,” Ted started, everyone clapped and whistled on cue, “Took a heck of a lot of effort from you boys, and I’m proud of every one of ya.”

The boys seated around Jamie slapped him on the shoulder. He’d all but clinched the win for them.

“Second,” Ted hesitated, “Coach Beard and I’ve got a little announcement we wanted y’all to know about first.”

One minute, the room was all smiles and laughter it was just another average Tuesday.

The next, the floor had been ripped out from beneath each one of them.

Y/n’s eyes were glued to Ted, waiting for the punchline of whatever joke he was telling. He was creating the world’s longest fake out and in seconds, he’d grin reassuringly.

When Ted’s gaze crossed hers, giving a brief but resigned smile, Y/n realized it was real.

She looked up to Rebecca, who was caught between a frown and an even deeper one. She already knew.

Ted explained the details of it all, no one asked any questions. For once, every part of AFC Richmond was rendered speechless.

—————————

Y/n and Jamie drove home in silence. They’d made plans to return to work the next day. Jamie needed to get in all the practice he could, Y/n and Keeley had to handle Ted’s announcement. Life had to return to normal.

They went their separate ways once they got back to Jamie’s place. Jamie headed for the bathroom while Y/n dragged into the kitchen. They’d left happy with the promise of a long and lazy day spent at home. The change in plans was unspoken.

Y/n leaned against the counter, crossing her arms across her chest. Here she’d thought everything had just settled. Jamie, work, a chance at the Premier League title…

Jamie emerged a second later, padding over to the refrigerator. He reached in and grabbed a drink.

Y/n sighed, “I’ll start lunch in a bit.”

“Sure,” Jamie nodded, his gaze was focused on…nothing. He started to walk off to aimlessly wander the next part of the house.

“Jamie,” Y/n pushed off the counter, reaching for his hand before he could escape.

He turned around, still unable to meet her eyes. It wasn’t until she guided his chin up that the red veins around his pupils became visible.

In sync, Jamie and Y/n slid their arms around one another. Nothing needed to be said.

—————————

While England was having a tremendous reaction to the news that Ted Lasso was departing AFC Richmond at the end of the season, business at Nelson Road Stadium went on as usual.

Most of it was because people didn’t want to acknowledge that Ted was leaving. The boys didn’t really talk about it, Rebecca flat out refused to discuss it. Even Y/n was touchy about the subject, quickly changing the topic when a KJPR client mentioned how sad it was. No one wanted to deal with their feelings on the matter.

Y/n and Keeley carpooled from the office over to Nelson Road, discussing how well Ted’s recent press conference had gone. With Y/n no longer in hiding, their weekly meetings with Higgins and Rebecca had returned to their normal rhythm, relaxed and upbeat. This time, they were seated around Rebecca’s couch, going over a very interesting piece of news that had recently broke.

“The press are asking if you have any comments about Rupert’s divorce,” Keeley looked to Rebecca.

“Yes, of course,” Rebecca hummed as she scrolled her phone, “But no, no comment.”

“Classy,” Higgins nodded.

“Smart move,” Y/n agreed.

“Moving on,” Keeley said firmly, “Leslie, Y/n and I are asking if you have any comments on Rupert’s divorce.”

Rebecca sighed and eyed each one of her colleagues.

“Juicier the better,” Higgins gestured around them, “Safe space.”

“Also no comment,” Rebecca replied.

Keeley, Y/n and Higgins voiced their disappointment with boos and raspberries.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Rebecca smiled, “I just genuinely don’t care anymore.”

“Yes, but can you care for just two seconds,” Y/n begged from her spot on the couch, “I don’t even know what happened!”

“Well, perhaps if you hadn’t been using personal days on a certain someone,” Rebecca fired back, smirking, “You’d have gotten the story.”

Y/n gasped in mock offense, while Keeley laughed and poked at Y/n’s knee with her pen.

“I might need to be filled in on that one as well,” Higgins said to Y/n, “Again, safe space.”

“Next order of business,” Y/n ended the conversation.

Higgins took out his own notebook, turning serious. “We need to talk about who we’re hiring to replace Ted. I’ve made a list of the usual suspects,” he got up and handed the book to Rebecca, “And I threw in a basketball coach from New Zealand just to spice it up a bit.”

“Hey,” Y/n shrugged, “It worked once before.”

Rebecca glanced down at the list, her face a bevy of mixed emotions. “Right,” she set the papers down, “I can’t think about that yet.”

“Okay,” Higgins said, sensing her tone, “After the season then. Oh, last thing from me. On a happier note, now that we have a guaranteed spot in the Champions League next season…”

The four of them squealed together, waving their hands wildly.

“We have had many requests to buy a piece of the club,” Higgins continued, “Our value is at an all-time high, so it’s worth considering,” he gestured to Rebecca, “You give up 49%, retain full control and make a huge pile of cash. We can buy more players, renovate the stadium.”

“Ooh,” Keeley straightened up, “Maybe we can get some of those fancy seats. The ones with the heaters like they have at Tottenham.”

“Ooh, they’re amazing,” Higgins agreed, “In February. You see, I accidentally turned mine on last summer and nearly melted my bottom crack together.”

The women went silent.

“Think about it anyway,” he finished, “It’s only 49%.”

Rebecca was already running it through her head. “Leslie,” she called him back, “How much would I get if I sold the entire club?”

Y/n’s eyes bulged, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Rebecca,” Keeley scolded her boss, “You can’t sell the club.”

“Why not?” Rebecca shrugged, “I mean, I only got into this to ruin Rupert’s life. And he seems to be doing a pretty good job of that himself.”

Keeley and Y/n shared a worried glance.

“So come on, Leslie,” Rebecca lifted her tea cup, “How much?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Higgins cautiously reentered the room, “Off the top of my head, I’d say two billion.”

Tea sprayed out of Rebecca’s mouth all over the table, hitting most of Y/n and Keeley’s papers. Not that any of them noticed.

“Fuck me,” Rebecca breathed.

Suddenly, Y/n had a whole new concern to add to her list. If Rebecca sold the club, the whole structure would change. Players could be traded, the entire staff could change, KJPR could be looked at as too much of a risk and dropped. The decision would leave no part of AFC Richmond untouched.

A text alert pulled Y/n out of her spiraling thoughts.

Roy Kent: It’s time.

“Sorry,” Y/n mumbled, “I’ve got to take care of something.”

“Are you coming back to the office?” Keeley asked.

“Yeah,” Y/n grabbed her purse, “Don’t leave without me.”

She hurried out of Rebecca’s office and down the stairs. Jamie had let her in on a surprise the boys had planned as a going away gift for Ted and Beard. They’d all been working tirelessly on it and after witnessing rehearsals, she had to see the final product.

Y/n got to the pitch just as Roy announced the end of their last practice with three coaches. She snuck through the gates to the fan-packed stands and took a seat behind Trent. Pulling out her phone, she hit record and aimed the camera toward the pitch.

A clang of a bell rang loud through the air, Will’s boombox positioned on the water table. The boys were lined up behind Sam and Isaac, crouched and waiting for their cue.

What happened next could only be experienced in person. The Greyhounds performed their rendition of ‘So Long, Farewell’ from The Sound of Music. They were perfectly on pitch, their choreography was flawless, and took visible pride in hitting their marks. By the time Dani finished his solo and the boys waved and sang ‘goodbye’ in harmony, Y/n found her eyes were watery.

“Thank you, fellas,” Ted said once it was over, “That was perfect.”

The team and the fans broke out into cheers. Y/n moved her phone to capture the pandemonium that apparently came whenever grown men completed a musical number. Had it not been for the witnesses, it would have been too insane to believe.

Afterwards, Y/n met Keeley inside, ready to head back to the office. She was carrying pink fuzz trimmed gift bags in each hand.

“You know I can say these are from both of us,” Keeley offered as they strolled down the hall.

“No,” Y/n repeated the same answer she’d already given, “It’s a sign of protest.”

“Fine,” Keeley relented as they passed Nate, “Hey, Nate.”

“Hey, Keeley, Y/n,” the assistant kitman greeted them, “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Keeley answered for both of them, “It’s so good to have you back.”

Nate nodded, “Thank you. It’s really good to be back.”

The women rounded the corner to the coach’s office, cutting past Trent and Roy’s desks.

“Hi,” Keeley greeted her ex.

“Hey,” Roy spun around in his seat.

Y/n chortled as she passed him, smirking knowingly. As much as Keeley had pressed her for details on her and Jamie, she’d also revealed a few key developments between her and Roy.

“Hello, boys,” Keeley approached Ted and Beard’s desks.

“Hey, Keeley, Y/n,” Ted smiled, eyes darting to the gift bags, “Uh-oh. What do we got here?”

“A little last-day present. One for you,” Keeley set one down on Ted’s desk before Beard’s, “And one for you. Don’t,” she jumped, “Open that before you get on the plane!”

Both men threw their hands up in surrender.

“Or better yet,” she softened her tone, “Just don’t get on the plane.”

“Thanks, guys,” Ted and Beard both said.

“Oh no,” Keeley placed her hands on Y/n’s shoulders, “These are very much my gifts.”

Y/n smiled sweetly, “I don’t give gifts to traitors.”

Ted laughed understandingly. Y/n was less than thrilled with their decision.

“I respect that,” Beard nodded.

Following Keeley into the locker room, Y/n and Beard shared a high five.

“Is everybody decent?” Keeley asked the boys, uncovering her eyes before Y/n did to a fully clothed room. “Aw, one of these days, right? Okay, remember, you’ve got your extra press session tomorrow at noon.”

“Which does not mean 12:15,” Y/n interjected, “There’s no such thing as fashionably late when you’re all wearing the same thing.”

“And you’re confident,” Keeley instructed while the two of them crossing the room, “Generous. Excited,” she threw her arms in the air, “You’re fucking legends!”

The room erupted into cheers. Not only were the boys hyped for the match and all that was attached to it, they genuinely loved having Keeley and Y/n around.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Y/n smiled as they exited into the hallway.

“And to think,” Keeley elbowed her friend, “You almost missed it.”

Y/n rolled her eyes just before a pair of arms yanked her backwards and into the air. She yelped before recognizing the familiar grip.

“Should I assume you’re staying here for the day?” Keeley smiled, watching Jamie spin Y/n around.

“No,” Y/n grunted, “This will be very quick.”

“No, it won’t,” Jamie called to Keeley as she left the two of them to their moment. He set Y/n down but kept his arms round her waist.

“Well, that was professional,” Y/n teased, settling her hands to his chest.

Jamie shrugged, “It ain’t like nobody knows.”

“Yes, well, there’s still rules.” Y/n adjusted a stray hair that was slipping out his headband. “The dance went well, yeah?”

“Yeah, think we crushed it,” Jamie smiled proudly, “You got it on video?”

“Every second,” Y/n nodded, “It’ll go locked away in my vault of special Greyhound Only media.”

Jamie laughed, the lads and him had worked hard to nail the choreography. There needed to be proof, however secret.

“So Roy invited me out tonight for a beer,” he switched topics.

Y/n pulled back and grew mockingly serious, “That goes against the Jamie Tartt Diet Plan.”

“He said that since I’m with him, I get a pass.”

“Well, that would’ve been nice to know he was so lenient before he made me tape the pre-approved food list to my fridge,” Y/n remarked. Wherever Roy knew Jamie would be, he made sure training followed.

“So you’re okay if I go?” Jamie asked.

“Of course,” Y/n replied, a little puzzled, “You didn’t think you needed to ask my permission, did you?”

“No, just-“ Jamie’s fidgeting thumbs rubbed lines into Y/n’s waist. “It’s been kinda nice, just me and you. Just wanted to make sure you were cool with it.”

And it had been nice. Shutting the world out for the days after the Manchester match, coming home to one another after work, getting to explore the new territory of their relationship. It was heaven and it warmed Y/n’s heart that it clearly meant as much to Jamie as it did her.

Without any care for if they were alone or not, Y/n pulled Jamie in for a soft kiss. She smoothed her fingers against his cheek as they broke apart, Jamie kept his eyes shut and rubbed his lips together.

“Go have fun,” she smiled, “I’m always here, but Roy’s kindness is fleeting.”

Jamie chuckled and adjusted his gaze to his girlfriend. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/n beamed.

With a final peck, the two of them headed in opposite directions, Jamie back to the locker room and Y/n out to Keeley’s car. Even though it had only been a few days, Y/n was bewildered that there’d been a time where the three words they exchanged so freely were impossible to fathom.

—————————

With the sun setting on him, Ted nudged a ball along the training pitch. Nearly everyone had gone home, but he was taking his time saying goodbye to the place he’d called home the last three years.

“Y’know, I’m mad at you.”

Ted turned around to see Y/n, leaned against the wall. The small smile she wore contradicted her words.

“Oh no,” Ted smiled back, “What’d I do?”

“You give me this whole speech last week about how people here won’t leave me,” Y/n sighed, trying to keep her voice steady, “And then you go and do the very thing.”

Ted’s smile changed with sympathy. Y/n hadn’t pulled away like usual when she felt something big, she’d just been quieter. Still present, but withdrawn. It was nice to hear her admit the problem so quickly.

He walked across the pitch and sat down on the concrete, gesturing for her to join him.

“I’m also very jealous of Henry,” Y/n continued as she took a seat next to Ted, “To have a dad who’d move across the country to try and help their family, then move right back the second you say you miss him.”

The real reason for Ted’s departure had been spoken of privately. If anyone didn’t understand, they did after hearing it.

“Y’know he’s still talkin’ about gettin’ to play coach for a day,” Ted lightened the mood.

Y/n chuckled, that had been a good day. “He’s definitely got a future in sports.”

They let silence come naturally, waiting for the words to present themselves.

“You know, I haven’t thanked you for everything,” Y/n looked down at her lap, her hands fidgeting. “Everything you’ve done for me. If you hadn’t smacked me upside the head, I wouldn’t have come back here. I wouldn’t have the boys, Keeley, Rebecca…I certainly wouldn’t have figured things out with Jamie.”

“Oh, I disagree,” Ted clicked his tongue, “I think you and Jamie would have found y’all’s way to one another no matter what.”

“No, Ted,” Y/n turned to him, her eyes sober with seriousness, “I would have never had the guts to say what I said. I would have watched him fall for someone else and it would have been…” she shuddered at the thought, “Miserable.”

It was the truth. Y/n and Jamie may have taken the steps but if Ted hadn’t knocked on Y/n’s hotel door, nothing would have come to be.

“I owe you a lot, Ted,” Y/n continued, looking between their bodies, “Thank you.”

Ted’s eyes turned misty. He never quite knew what to do when people praised him. He never felt like he did enough to earn it. He also saw the potential in Y/n that had come from opening herself up.

“Well, you’re welcome,” he replied.

“Any plans for what you’ll do when you get back?” Y/n asked.

Ted exhaled, “I dunno. Didn’t know what I was doin’ here, coaching soccer. Maybe I’ll try something else new. Maybe lacrosse or rugby.”

“Or pickleball,” Y/n added.

“There you go,” Ted smiled, the two of them sharing a laugh, “Whole word of possibilities.”

The sky was turning dark fast, the golden glow illuminating the pitch gleaming for the last time.

“Y’know the best part about family’s that,” Ted nudged Y/n, “It don’t matter where in the world you are. It’s still a family.”

Y/n smiled sadly, tracing the last visible edge of the sun. It had been nearly a week since she’d left the shocking voicemail to her parents. Not a word from either.

“That helps a little.”

“And you gotta promise me you’ll keep the patriotism goin’,” Ted grinned, “Confuse the heck outta this country.”

Y/n laughed. Her, Ted and Beard could be their own trio at times. The three Americans.

“I will,” she looked up at Ted, “Promise me we’ll win this weekend?”

Maybe at the beginning of the season, each member of AFC Richmond had different motivations for wanting to win. Rebecca wanted revenge against Rupert, Y/n simply wanted to work at a successful club, the boys had wanted to prove their critics wrong, and Ted wasn’t much concerned at all with victory. Now they felt united. Everyone wanted to win for Richmond.

Ted and Y/n grinned. It was unspoken that the only guarantee was that Ted and the team would get it their all. That was all that was needed.

Finally, Y/n rose to leave. “You heading out? I can give you a ride.”

“I think I’m gonna stick around a little longer,” Ted answered, letting his eyes drift fondly around him.

Y/n nodded and saved the memory in her mind. A coach on his pitch one last time.

“Goodnight, Coach,” she said, turning to leave.

Ted watched her walk off towards the car lot. Her future at AFC Richmond was brighter than she even knew.

“‘Night, Y/n.”

—————————

With the season wrapping up, Y/n’s evenings were free from working overtime. And with her new outlook on life, doing nothing was actually enjoyable.

She was in the middle of catching up on a show when there was a knock at the door. She headed downstairs and peered out the peephole, pleasantly surprised at the sight of her boyfriend.

“Hi,” she greeted as she opened the door, “Roy cancel?”

“No, I’m just coming back,” Jamie answered.”

“Oh,” Y/n leaned against the doorframe, “You two have fun?”

The single drink he’d been allowed hadn’t lasted Jamie longer than two minutes. But the kinship with Roy was the real highlight. “Yeah,” he smiled, “Yeah, it was good.”

“Good,” Y/n grinned, glancing back at the stairs, “Well, you’ve missed nothing but tv of questionable quality and crap takeout so-“

“Actually,” Jamie hesitated, knocking his fists together, “I wanted to ask you somethin’.”

Y/n waited for him to continue.

“I think we should go out. On a date.”

“A date,” Y/n repeated.

“Yeah,” Jamie nodded, his nervous eyes scanning her face, “What do you think?”

Y/n laughed, “I mean, we’ve kind of done this whole thing backwards.”

“I know,” Jamie closed his eyes and rubbed at his face, “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to ask or what but…I wanna do this right. Us.”

Jamie’d had many short-lived relationships and meaningless flings. He’d never tended to any of them, preferring to let them fizzle out when he got bored or he fucked up enough to make them leave. Keeley had been the last one to do so and it had left a lasting impression on Jamie. Now with Y/n, so precious to him, he was taking great pains to make sure this was the one that stuck.

“I’d love to,” Y/n smiled warmly.

Jamie’s grin was boyish, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Name the time and place, I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

Y/n gestured behind her, “Are you coming up?”

“Eh,” Jamie paused, thinking the decision over, “Not tonight,” he met Y/n’s eyes, “Tryin’ to do this right.”

The whole of their relationship had been so unconventional. They’d practically lived together the first few days, said ‘I love you’ more than some couples did in a year and saw each other nearly every hour at work. A little structure wasn’t a bad idea to start out with.

“Fine with me,” she beamed, “Go get some rest.”

“I will,” Jamie replied, sparing one more look at his girlfriend before heading down the steps, “Night.”

“Goodnight,” Y/n said softly.

She’d just turned on her heel, beginning to shut the door when Jamie rushed back up the steps, reached for Y/n’s wrist and tugged her to him. They both smiled into a passionate kiss.

—————————

Jamie had been very strict in not giving Y/n any hints on what their first date would be. He’d texted her an address, told her not to Google it, and said to arrive at 7PM.

And so, right on the dot, Y/n showed up in a white floral dress and sneakers to a spot in Richmond. Stood outside a large pair of gates was Jamie, hair swept to the side, in a blue dress shirt and pants.

“I didn’t Google,” Y/n held her hands up, “Promise.”

“You look fucking incredible,” Jamie said, a little dumbstruck. He came to meet Y/n halfway and held her waist, “Shit.”

Y/n slid a hand over his shoulder and up his neck, “I’m not sure I want to be with someone who’s got such a foul mouth.”

Jamie matched her smirk, “Fuck off.”

They slid into a slow, easy kiss, one they knew if they didn’t break would become the main event of the night.

“You gonna finally tell me what we’re doing?” Y/n asked when they pulled away.

“Come on,” Jamie teased, taking her hand, “I know it’s killing you not knowing what’s going on.”

They entered through the gates. “Oh, you know,” Y/n said casually, “I only wanna break into hives a little bit.”

Jamie chortled, he loved pushing her out of her comfort zone. It wasn’t very hard.

They walked a short tree-lined path and passed a small lake before a massive glass building revealed itself. Surrounding it was pristine cut grass and gorgeous beds of flowers.

“Wow,” Y/n muttered.

“Welcome to Kew Gardens,” Jamie announced, his soft tone matching the mood.

Y/n shook her head distractedly, “I’ve never been here. Always meant to come but…I never really had a reason.”

Jamie smiled as he watched her take it all in. “Well,” he adjusted her hand in his, “Now you do.”

Turning them around, Jamie led Y/n towards the rose garden where there was a candlelit table set in the middle. Nearby were two waiters, waiting with a cart of food.

Jamie pulled out Y/n’s chair and helped her slide in, taking his own seat after.

Y/n glanced around them, suddenly aware of the silence. “Did you…close this place down for us?”

Jamie shrugged playfully, “One of the perks of bein’ famous.”

The waiters strode over, placing a plate in front of each of them. Where Y/n’s had some sort of pasta, Jamie’s was a plain chicken breast and wild rice.

“Well, the food’s certainly not a competition,” Y/n remarked, trying not to laugh.

“Home stretch,” Jamie replied. He didn’t suspect he’d change much about Roy’s regiment after the season ended, but he fucking missed food.

Y/n bobbed her head, “Then it’s, what, waking up at 10AM and gorging on sugary cereals?”

Jamie looked up from his plate, dropping his fork. He pointed to Y/n, “That’s the first thing we do on Monday.”

She laughed, covering her full mouth with her napkin.

“I’m serious,” Jamie continued.

Y/n shook her head at him in adoration.

Things grew quiet quickly, the two of them eating and their minds drifting suddenly to what Monday would bring.

“It’s gonna be weird,” Y/n observed as her eyes traced the nearest rose bed, “With Ted gone.”

Jamie lowered his gaze down to his plate. They had yet to talk about their feelings on Ted’s departure. The news had affected them in different ways. Jamie had finally found a coach who, despite many personality differences, he could count on. Ted had seen the best in him when there wasn’t much to see. He’d always be grateful for that.

And Y/n, though she’d tried with all her might, hadn’t been able to keep Ted out of her heart. He was the best of the home she’d tried to erase. He’d become her biggest guide through her time at Richmond.

“Yeah,” Jamie agreed.

Y/n’s eyes darted between her plate and Jamie. “A lot’s changing. Ted, the Champion’s League…”

Jamie smiled up at her.

“Couple other things…” Y/n matched his expression fleetingly, “You know, we haven’t actually…talked about anything…about us.”

Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Jamie settled back in his chair. “Guess not. But…” he shrugged his head, “Is there anything to talk about?”

There couldn’t have been a more perfect example of the contrast between them. Jamie thought with his heart, Y/n with her head.

“Manchester.”

Y/n’s answer came the second Jamie finished his sentence. As soon as they’d come out of their cocoon and back to real life, the topic had started eating at her. The night at Georgie and Simon’s hadn’t been spoken of.

Jamie’s face tensed, though he tried to hide it. He wanted to put that whole night behind them. They were fine now.

“Jamie, what I said to you was…” Y/n paused, tears beginning to build, “Awful. I didn’t mean them and I still said them-“

“But it’s fine,” he reached across the table and took her hand, “Look at us. I think we recovered.”

“Jamie.”

At her insisting eyes, Jamie’s facade faded. Their long friendship allowed them to read each other better than most new couples.

“Yeah, okay,” Jamie admitted softly, “It sucked.”

She was glad he’d said it, truly, even if it only made her guilt more real.

“But…” Jamie sighed, “It’s not like I don’t understand why you did it. I’ve kicked a lot of people outta me life because I didn’t wanna let ‘em…” he waved around his chest, “See all the shit.”

“I know,” Y/n whispered, squeezing his hand, “But I shouldn’t have said it. I was scared and overwhelmed and…”

She drew a deep breath, shutting her eyes and waiting for the oxygen to bring strength. Jamie held her hand the whole time.

“I’ve never loved anybody like I love you,” Y/n said, locking eyes with Jamie, “I kept it that way because I didn’t want to get hurt. And then you show up and just…” she smiled, “Mess up all my plans.”

Jamie chuckled, ducking his head briefly.

“And when I realized that, it terrified me because you already had me,” she continued, “You knew me. I just felt…exposed. So instead of dealing with my shit, I hurt you. And I don’t know how I’m ever going to forgive myself for it but,” she bristled at herself, sniffling, “I just need you to know how much I regret it.”

Jamie was, for once, struck utterly speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so cared for. The delicacy and devotion Y/n treated him with was new to him, regardless of how long they’d been friends. He hadn’t doubted her, not since the moment she’d stormed into the med room and told her she loved him, but this was just further confirmation that it was the real thing.

“I think you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Y/n’s watery smile finally broke, a tear sliding down her cheek.

“I know we’re both fucked,” Jamie said, “It’s the truth. And I know I’m probably gonna mess this up a lot, but…I wanna try. Really try at this.”

Y/n only knew Jamie before she’d arrived through headlines and interviews. The man sitting in front of her, pouring his heart out, stroking her hand with his thumb didn’t resemble him in the slightest. She knew every syllable was intended with the most sincerity possible.

“You say ‘try’ like I’m ever gonna let you go,” Y/n chuckled.

“Fuck no,” Jamie’s face shifted seriously, “I just mean…I’m gonna try and be the best I can for you.”

“Me too,” Y/n agreed, smoothing her fingers over his knuckles, “I’m gonna fuck this up a lot too.”

Jamie chuckled, “You don’t fuck anything up.”

“I almost fucked this up,” she pointed between them.

“Fine, fine,” Jamie relented, playfully smirking, “Love confessions and turkeys. Those’re your fuck ups.”

Finally, Y/n laughed with might, naturally making Jamie do the same.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Jamie assured, gazing at her so confidently, Y/n’s fear couldn’t react at all.

“Yeah,” she smiled.

Jamie peered around them, brushing over the beauty of the gardens. “I know I got all this together but…I’ve got an idea.”

Y/n let him help her out of her seat and lead her off into the night. She wasn’t going to analyze anything to death about them. Jamie was her spontaneity.

He drove them through Richmond until they were on an all-too familiar road making an all-too familiar turn into an all-too familiar car lot.

After tipping Renee heavily to turn on the lights, Jamie and Y/n were in the stadium, Jamie kicking balls into the net. Y/n sat in the coach’s dugout.

“When’d you know?” She called.

Jamie lined up the ball, it was difficult to move properly in dress pants. “After Wembley. But looking back,” he paused, filing through the memories, “Probably ‘round that time we went out clubbing and that dick came up to you. Just felt wrong to see you with someone else.”

“Yeah, you were a bit weird that night,” Y/n recalled the jealousy, but not the poor soul’s name.

“Like you were any better about me and Keeley,” Jamie chuckled, making another goal.

“I wasn’t weird” Y/n insisted, her voice’s pitch shot up, “It was just…new information.”

Jamie was cheesing hard, reveling in the memory of her stumbling and stuttering and insisting it was fine. “Was that it for you?”

“It was certainly the first sign that something was wrong,” Y/n adjusted in what was typically Roy’s seat, “But I think Wembley was…I don’t know. My life was in the toilet, I thought I’d lost my job and all this,” she waved around her, “But being there with you, cheering you on…it felt like I was right where I was supposed to be. You made me forget about all that stuff.”

Jamie had stopped, giving Y/n his full attention.

“But looking back, it probably happened way before that,” Y/n shifted, suddenly nervous over the vulnerability.

“I think I know my moment,” Jamie declared.

“Hmm?”

“It was after that match where Isaac jumped that fan,” Jamie took a few steps closer, there was still feet of distance between them, “And you came over that night. We’d had this, uh,” he hesitated, “This talk in the locker room and I just realized how lucky I was to have you in my life. And then I realized…I wanted to be with you all the time.”

Y/n stayed quiet, awestruck.

“So if you think you ain’t ever letting me go,” Jamie turned around, nailed another goal and came right back, “I promise I’m gonna be worse.”

“I’m okay with that,” Y/n beamed, “God, I was so set on not dating a footballer and now look. You’ve made a WAG of me.”

“Stupid fucking word,” Jamie made a face, “Maybe I can be the WAG. The…HAB.”

Y/n laughed hard enough that she snorted.

“What? You’re a badass. I’d make fucking great arm candy,” he smiled, glancing back to the goal. “You coming? I didn’t bring you here so I could practice.”

“Right,” Y/n hopped off her seat and crossed the pitch, “You’d better step back because that kid’s league training ‘s gonna whip your ass with a vengeance.”

Jamie rolled the ball to her and Y/n caught it under her foot. She nudged it into position in front of the goal and took a breath. She was ready to kick when-

“Hang on,” Jamie interrupted, looking down at her with such intense focus, “Your posture’s all off. Let me-“

He proceeded to press his body flush against Y/n’s, getting a cackle out of her.

“This is not golf,” she remarked.

“You gotta correct mistakes like this straightaway,” Jamie held her hips, speaking over her shoulder, “Could affect you in the long term.”

“Oh, well,” Y/n twisted in Jamie’s hold to look at him, “My Premier League future rests in the balance.”

“Exactly,” Jamie lined his lips up with the shell of her ear, “You’re gonna wind it back, keep your foot steady, don’t flinch at the contact, and fuckin’ send it.”

Jamie shifted a few inches to avoid Y/n’s leg. She took a second to visualize the ball going in the net, swung her leg back and kicked the ball with all her strength.

It flew straight in.

They erupted in cheers loud enough to make anyone near think Richmond had won the whole fucking thing. Jamie crouched down in front of Y/n, giving her the opportunity to jump on his back. He ran them around the pitch, the two of them screaming and laughing like children.

In two days time, the pitch would be filled by two teams. The seats would be packed with fans. Richmond’s destiny would be decided.

But for the night, it belonged to Y/n and Jamie. The place they’d fallen in love without ever realizing it.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[phoenixs-fandoms-and-writings]

Being Around You Makes Me Feel Better

Fandom: Harry Potter - Marauders Era

Pairing: James Potter/Reader

Character: James Potter

Summary: You have a bad day, where you hate yourself and the way you look. You sneak into James’ bed in his dorm and thats where he finds you and spends time trying to make you feel a bit better or at the very least forget for now.

Reader is autistic and so am I.

Notes: I don’t own Harry Potter or its characters. I also don’t believe JKR’s beliefs. This account is safe place for all.

I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.

Posted on AO3 here.

You couldn’t help it. When everyone left for classes, you crept into the Marauders dorm and climbed into James’ bed. You stayed there all day. You felt safe surrounded by his scent and his things. You knew that he could always make you feel better, but you pulled the blankets up to your neck. That's where you stayed as you cried yourself to sleep.

You woke to the sound of the door opening and someone gasping. You didn’t care who it was, if they spoke to you, you’d just ask for James. You only wanted your best friend.

You didn’t hear the sounds of anyone approaching, but when you see them crouch down and see James himself in front of you, you whisper, “Jamie, you’re here.”

“Hey love,” he whispers back in response. He waves his wand and a glass of water appears in his hand. He hands it to you, and you drink it, before he waves it away as he looks at you sadly, “What’s wrong?”

“Jamie, I hate myself. I need you. Being around you makes me feel better.”

He smiled at you softly before he asked, “can I climb in with you?”

You hum in response as you open the blankets for him. You let go of them as he takes off his shoes and then climbs in next to you. He wraps the blanket around both of you, before he wraps his arms around you.

“Why do you hate yourself, love?”

“I feel fat. I look ugly. I can’t stand looking in the mirror. I don’t think anyone but you really likes me.”

“I need you to look at me, lovey,” James told you kindly, which made it hard to resist, you looked up at his beautiful and kind blue eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you didn’t lie about that. He was the only person you knew you could trust to tell you the truth, even on days like today, when you didn’t even trust yourself.

“Then trust me when I say this,” he tells you honestly as you look at different parts of his face; seeing his beauty, since looking in people’s eyes for too long would become uncomfortable. He didn’t mind and you knew that, as long as you listened. “You are the most beautiful person I know; inside and out. You may not believe it, but I’ll prove it and show you everyday, because I wish I could date someone like you.” He paused as you stopped looking at him and cuddled into him. “No, not someone like you. I wish I could have the courage when you’re not having a day like this, but I want to date you.”

“What about Lily?”, you whispered back.

“What about he-,” he cut himself off, before slowly saying, “I haven’t been flirting with her.” He kissed the top of your head. “I was flirting with you, but when they first asked me, I was embarrassed to say I was flirting with you. You were right there. I was worried you’d reject me and we’d go from being best friends to being awkward around each other to being people the other used to know.

“Jamie,” you knew he could hear the catch in your throat and that he’d probably realise you’d been crying, but they were no longer sad tears. “I’ve loved you since second year.”

He paused. “Really?”

You smiled and nodded, “yeah.” You paused cuddling into his warmth and yawned, lifting one of your hands to cover your mouth.

You listened as he told you, “I’ll spend the rest of my life showing and telling you how much I love you.”

You yawned again and he kissed the top of your head again, and rubbed your back as you whispered, “I love you, James.”

As you fell asleep, you could’ve sworn he whispered, “I love you too, angel.”

———————————

LATER THAT DAY

———————————

You woke up later that day still in James’ arms, with him holding you really close to him. One of his arms was rubbing your back gently and the other holding you as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

You hummed contentedly and James whispered, “Love, are you awake?”

You hummed again before yawning and then answered, “yeah, Jamie. Just woke up.”

“I have something I want to officially ask you,” he asked as you moved up slightly so the two of you were face to face.

You lifted your hand up to his cheek, he sighed and closed his eyes, “what is it?”

He opened his eyes, kissed your palm before asking, “I love you and from what you said before, you love me.” He paused and you nodded before he finally asked, “will you go out with me?”

Slowly you started smiling as you moved your hand down to his waist, hugging him, before you answered, “yes, I’d love to.”

You moved closer to him and pecked his lips.

“Do you feel any better now, my love?”

You looked at him as he cupped your cheek, closing your eyes and enjoying his touch. “Whenever you're around, I always feel better. I’m not back to 100% but you make me feel safe and you’ve always found a way to silence the voices. However, unlike today, it's usually your antics or the pranks that help to silence them enough that I stop paying attention to them as much.”

He smiled, before he moved closer, kissing you, with so much love and affection that you melted against him, before he pulled back.

“Are you hungry?”

You think for a moment before your stomach rumbles, answering for you.

He smiled before he kissed you. When he pulled back, he looked in your eyes, “I’ll go get us some food, my love. Is there anything specific that you’d like?”

You told him what you felt like eating and he smiled, before he said, “I’ll be back soon. Wait here?”

“Where else would I want to be?”

He gave you a peck on the cheek before he left, which made you blush. When he came back, he sat next to you before calling one of the house elves, who appeared with trays of food which slowly levitated over to the bed.

Both of you thanked the house elf before they disappeared.

He smiled at you before he leaned over to give you a quick kiss. The two of you ate and just spent the rest of the evening together.

Even when the rest of the guys came in, he just held you close as he talked to them. You joined in the conversation at times, and they were just as happy as always to see you.

That was one thing you loved about his friends; even before you became friends with them, they always included you when you were with James. All of them made you feel welcomed. With that thought, you turned and kissed James’ cheek and snuggled more into his side.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Roy wakes, fully hard and – two seconds later, when the details of the dream return to him – fully panicked.

Fuck.

---

It’s not like he’s never had sex dreams before. Come on. But none of them had featured men (except that weird one about Lee Pace in a banana costume and that hadn’t left him so much turned on as thoroughly confused) and abso-fucking-lutely not a single one of them had starred Jamie Tartt.

Jamie Tartt, who is now standing right in front of him in the dressing room, saying something about football something something, right Coach, something free kicks, and all Roy can think about is how he now has a very vivid idea of what those lips would look like when wrapped around his cock.

Jamie pushes a strand of hair of out of his eyes. They look grey now; in Roy’s dream they were green-tinting-towards-brown and heavy-lidded with lust as Roy had pushed him back on the bed— 

Roy can’t stand it. Except one very specific part of him apparently can and no, no, fuck no, he’s not doing this. Without a word he turns on his heel and walks away, ignoring Jamie’s surprised objection.

Fuck.

---

Training is a nightmare.

The only way Roy can get through it at all is by not sparing Jamie a single glance. (Jamie running, dribbling, shooting; Jamie turning and twisting, as graceful as water; Jamie with hair damp with sweat and calling out to the others with that eager voice that had called out Roy’s name last night.) It’s really fucking difficult, though, because he’s used to always keeping at least half an eye on Jamie these days, no matter what else is going on. Besides, the prick’s everywhere, rushing around the pitch like the fucking Duracell Bunny on speed. Roy clearly made a huge mistake ever pushing him towards the heights of endurance because the little shit just. won’t. stop. 

Roy’s attempts at avoidance don’t go unnoticed, either. He can feel the eyes of Beard and Nate on him; can see the way the other players look from him to Jamie and mutter among themselves. 

He makes them run suicides until they collapse just to shut them up and when Jamie is the only one still on his feet Roy tells Beard that oh fuck, he has a really important meeting he needs to go to right now, he fucking forgot about it and now he’s running late, could Beard and Nate finish this up please, and of course Roy doesn’t flee from the pitch because Roy Kent doesn’t fucking flee from anything. He walks off rather hurriedly, sure, but that’s just to properly sell the lie of the meeting he’s in a rush to. 

“Yeah, something is definitively up with him and Jamie,” he hears Beard mutter to Nate as he walks off.

Fuck.

---

He withdraws to the supply cupboard where he’s not likely to be disturbed, or found. He’s not hiding, obviously; he just needs a few moments to himself, to gather his wits. He’d drive home, except he actually does have a meeting with Rebecca in a couple of hours, and she is the one person he daren’t piss off. Not because she’s terrifying – although she can be, a fact that Roy respects immensely – but because she’ll know that something is off if he doesn’t show and unlike everyone else she has both the guts and the capacity to force it out of him.

In a farcical turn of events, which he entirely blames on Dr. Sharon (and maybe also on Keeley and Jamie a little, for their absurd and sometimes infectious tendency towards emotional honesty), Roy thinks that maybe he wouldn’t mind talking to someone about this. Maybe it would… help? Give him some perspective on things? 

Problems is, there’s no one he can talk to, is there? Jamie is right out, for obvious reasons, and while this would probably be right up the Diamond Dogs’ alley, there’s no fucking way Roy is telling his fellow coaches and the club’s director of football operations about having a wet dream about the team’s star player. Apart from the utter mortification of it, it’s hardly fair on Jamie, having almost all his bosses discuss him like that. Even if it’s not the real Jamie they’d be discussing, really, just the very bendable and delightfully masochistic Jamie that’s taken shameless residence in Roy’s battered mind. 

He can’t talk to Rebecca, for the same reason, even though he’s pretty sure she’d be able to say something clever enough and cutting enough that he’d snap right out of whatever the hell this is. Maybe she’d declare him clinically insane and unfit for duty and have him carted off to an asylum or some shit, and as much as that would suck it’d be a bit of a relief, honestly. At least he wouldn’t near twist his neck off his shoulders trying to avoid looking at Jamie. 

Jamie would probably come and visit him, the fucking arsehole.

And Roy can’t talk to Keeley, either, because even though she’s probably the best person to bring this to and the person he’d most like to talk to, she’s been clear about having no interest in sorting Roy and Jamie’s shit out for them. Besides, he doesn’t want to somehow give her the idea that he’s over her. He’s not. He had a pretty wild dream about her just the other week, and—

For a brief moment, he’s assailed by the image of Keeley and Jamie tangled on Roy’s mattress, looking up at him with twin smiles and—

In spite of the cupboard being rather chilly, Roy starts to sweat. Desperately, he crosses his legs and forces his mind back to the time when he took a chug of orange juice only for it to be egg yolk and he nearly threw up. 

It doesn’t really help. He’s still turned on, only now he’s feeling sick too. 

He could talk to Dr. Sharon, he guesses, but Dr. Sharon is travelling southern France for the rest of the week.

Roy won’t last that long.

Fuck. 

--- 

The door to the cupboard is pulled open with enough force to almost startle Roy off of the bucket he’s sat on. 

“All right, what the fuck’s going on, man?” Jamie demands, without even having the decency to look surprised at finding Roy hiding hanging out among the mops and micro fibre cloths. “Did you hit your head and forget the last two years or something?”

“Of course not,” Roy mutters, determinedly not looking up from the computer precariously balanced on his lap.

“Then why the fuck are you ignoring me? The lads all think I did something really bad!” There’s a plaintive note in Jamie’s voice, reminding Roy of the noises dream-Jamie had made when Roy— 

Roy closes his eyes. He can’t go on like this. He’s pretty sure that if he could just get a day or two – three or four tops, absolutely no more than five – away from Jamie, away from these constant reminders, the details of the dream would fade away, and his desire with it – but they have a game the day after tomorrow, so that’s not going to happen, and he can’t keep avoiding Jamie until then. It’d be bad for the team – not to mention that he can’t really stomach the hurt he hears in Jamie’s voice.

Nothing for it, then. Fuck it all to hell.

“I had a sex dream,” he grits out, carefully looking to the doorframe right next to Jamie’s face, so that he can catch Jamie’s reactions without having to look him in the eye.

Jamie doesn’t react much, just cocks his head to the side. “You had a sex dream about me?”

“Did I say it was about you, you muppet?!” Conceited prick.

“Uh, no, but it was? You wouldn’t be all weird about it if wasn’t.” Trust Jamie to always choose the worst moments to be insightful and reasonable. He’s doing it just to be contrary, Roy’s sure of it. 

Jamie’s watching him expectantly, as if believing Roy will elaborate or explain further. Roy doesn’t say a word. Roy is busy stonily inspecting a small speck of dirt on the wall next to Jamie’s face.

Eventually, Jamie lets out a long sigh and rolls his eyes. “Fine. What’s the big deal then?” 

Now Roy’s eyes snap to Jamie’s face, because what the hell? “What do you mean, what’s the big deal? You don’t think it’s a little weird and really fucking uncomfortable that I, Roy Kent, had a sex dream about you, Jamie Tartt? I’m your fucking coach! We’re friends!”

Jamie makes a face, like Roy’s being the insane one. “Roy, mate, you’ve seen the wall in my old bedroom. Bunch of half-naked girls and you, right? You never did the math on that?” 

Roy has, in fact, never done the math on that. Hasn’t realize there as math to do. “You were impressed by my prowess as a football player,” he tries feebly.

Jamie rolls his eyes. “Um, yeah. Which is hot.”

“… oh.”

Roy doesn’t know what else to say to that. Doesn’t know how to feel about that. Hasn’t the faintest idea about how to even begin to process it.

Jamie is watching him with a small frown. He looks concerned, pitying almost, which makes Roy want to go throw himself in the Thames more than anything else in this discussion has.

“So,” Jamie says eventually, speaking slowly, like he’s trying very hard to find the right words, “all these years and you never once figured that this whole thing we’ve got going, all this fucking tension, that it was… you know… just a little bit sexual?”

“No.”

“What, never?”

“No.” 

“That’s fucking mental, man.” Jamie looks like he doesn’t know whether to be incredulous or impressed. Then his eyes widen. “Ooh, is this because men getting with other men was illegal when you were a kid back in the dark ages? They burned people alive and shit, so you’re, like, repressed and stuff?”

Roy is about to bite his head off for pulling out fucking stupid ha ha you’re so old jokes now, except there’s something in Jamie’s eyes giving him the distinct impression that maybe Jamie is deliberatedly being a prick, doing it for Roy’s sake, trying to offer him a sense of normalcy or something, and that’s actually quite sweet, isn’t it? Only that thought has Roy’s heart doing something weird and stupid, so actually no, back to Jamie just being a prick.

“We’re in love with Keeley,” he says, and he means for it to be gruff, but it comes out pleading more than anything else.

“Yeah, I know.” Jamie sounds exasperated. “None of this means we ain’t. Fucking hell, mate, tension’s just tension, yeah, no need to fucking act on it if you don’t want to. And dreams are just dreams. I’m mad fit, you see me running around doing impressive shit all day, course you’re gonna dream about me, be weirder if you didn’t. Bet half the team do the same, anyway. It doesn’t have to mean anything.” Jamie crosses his arms, and looks as serious and decisive as Jamie ever does. “Listen, Coach, we’re playing West Ham this Saturday, and you need to stop being weird about this and start coaching me and not freak everyone out.”

Roy doesn’t ask him what Jamie think he’s been trying to do all day. Not his fault Jamie’s been right there, all pretty eyes and strong thighs and distracting lips and shit. But he doesn’t say that; instead, he sighs, because Jamie, infuriatingly, has a point. “Yeah. Okay. But… just give me a fucking minute. Go get changed and I’ll be there in fifteen, all professional and shit.”

“Great. See you then, Coach.”

Jamie turns and as he walks away Roy can’t help his gaze sliding down to Jamie’s arse, noticing the way the blue shorts cling to the round buttocks, leaving little enough to the imagination, only Roy is imagining what they’d look like sans shorts and red from Roy’s fingers and palm, wondering if the reality would match the dream.

Fuck. 

---

Dreams are just dreams. Roy tells Dr. Sharon as much during their next appointment, because even though talking to Jamie helped him pull himself together just enough to muddle through the rest of the week with his sanity mostly intact, he’s still feeling rather rattled by the whole mess. Untethered. 

Jamie’s been brilliant, carrying on as if nothing’s changed between them. Somehow, that hasn’t helped as much as Roy would’ve thought it would. 

Dr. Sharon listens carefully and without judgement, as she always does. “You’ve had dreams before,” she notes once Roy’s fallen silent. “I’m sure some of them have been strange or unsettling. Has any of them ever affected you like this?” 

“No. Like I said, it’s just dreams, right? It’s not real. Shouldn’t affect me. Never fucking does, not even the sexy ones, usually.”

“Right. So why do you think this one was different?”

Roy stares at her. She returns his stare calmly, patiently. Waits, watching him, until he can’t help but catch the shape of it reflected back at him in her kind eyes.

Fuck. 

---

“What if I don’t want it to be just a dream?” 

“Eh?” 

Jamie’s peering at him through the open door, looking like he’s wondering what Roy is doing showing up unannounced and spouting nonsense on his doorstep at half past three on a rest day. 

Which, okay, fair enough. 

“What if I don’t want it to be just a dream?” Roy repeats, a little slower this time. 

For another moment, Jamie just stares at him. Then his eyes widen, lightening up with delight. “Oh! You mean… ?” He gestures between them.

“Yeah,” Roy says and then he’s being pulled into the hallway by his jacket and he has time to think that that they really need to figure out how Keeley fits into all of this and then he has his arms around a body that is firm and solid and there and Jamie Tartt is kissing him and it’s not a dream at all. 

Fuck. Oh, fuck… !

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

hi ~ I wanted to request a headcanon series of Jameson as a boy dad 🥺 is it possible for you..? thanks

jameson as a boy dad head canons

yessss! if jamie were to have kids, he would most definitely be a boy dad. might be shitty bc i feel like dog shit (someone kill me pls, since when do colds last so long). hope you like them <3

they would always be pranking avery. they'd sneak up on her wearing masks they think are scary trying to catch her off guard.

i can imagine his son having brown hair and super bright green eyes. he'd have jameson's facial features, but would have avery's eye shape (or smth like that).

jameson would make sure his son doesn't take their money for granted bc its important to avery and him (espcially avery bc she grew up poor).

they would have matching halloween costumes when he was young. they'd dress up as marvel superheroes or stuff like that.

jameson loves taking pictures of them together or of just his son. he keeps a photo album with the pictures of him from all ages. (the picture book sort of looks like a scrap book. jameson will sit on the floor with the glue and glitter pens decorating the book)

he'd for sure teach his son karate or some form of self defense. he'd want him to know how to take care of himself (or others).

i can see him crying at his son's graduation.

they'll go out on little trips to the mall to buy gifts for avery to show her she's appreciated and loved.

he'd make sure his son knows he's special, and doesn't have to 'prove' himself like jameson had to do with his grandfather.

he would be the cool dad. all of his son's friends would want to come over to his place bc they love his dad sm.

he built him a tree house like the one he had when he was younger.

he would have so much fun buying cute little outfits for his son. he'd lie in bed at night with his laptop scrolling online until he found something he liked

he'd be scared to hold him the first time. he'd look at him and think about how fragile he was and he'd be afraid of 'breaking' him.

when his son tells him things like he'd the best dad in the world, jamie acts chill but is secretly crying on the inside bc he has this fear of being a horrible father (he didn't grow up with one and his grandfather wasn't exemplary).

when avery was pregnant with their son, he would lie his head on her belly and talk to him

his son loves his father's piggy back rides, and, he won't admit it, but he loves it when he kisses his forehead.

his first word would be dada (or smth really stupid like your mom bc xander always says it) (i said this in my grayson as a girl dad post but.. this applies to jamie too)

he would literally be so scared for his son whenever he fell off his bike. he would encourage him to have fun and take risks, but the second he bangs his head on smth or scrapes his knee, jamie is by his side in an instant trying to make him feel better. (and taking care of his wounds)

his son used to be obsessed with princess dresses. he once begged jamie to get him a spiderman themed dress so jamie got one custom made for him

he'd always make his dad drawings. their fridge is filled with drawings his son made for him. he cries a little bit every morning when he gets his coffee and breakfast and sees the fridge.

jamie got him one of those fake toy steering wheels to put in their car bc his son wanted to learn how to drive (he was like 7 at the time).

when his son was a baby, he'd be terrified that he was sick or smth. he'd see a small mole on his rib and think he was dying.

his son grew up to be one of those boys at school that's not necessarily popular, but who's friendly with everyone and people love him for it (and just him in general) (jamie is so proud)

jamie taught his son how to do his hair properly bc his son has this really wavy, unruly hair that looks like dogshit if he doesn't style it (avery was exasperated and forced jamie to do smth about it)

i hc that jamie knows how to play the electric guitar and i can totally see him and his son playing together.

his son doesn't give a fuck what others have to say, he loves his dad and loves spending time with him. he's never too 'cool' to spend time with his dad and honestly doesn't really like people who don't like spending time with their parents (if they have nice parents, obviously he doesn't want his friends to hang out with their parents if they're abusive)

they love going out on motorcycle rides together (they don't talk, they just drive around)

as a kid, he used to dress up exactly like his dad. he had a mini version of everything his father owned. they'd post pics on insta and fans would simp over jamie cause he was so cute.

he's the type of dad who rarely gets mad at his son. he wouldn't get mad if his son snuck out to go to the bar with his friends and needed someone to pick him up. he'd get out of bed and drive over without asking questions

his son was obsessed with his dad as a kid. he'd ask for his approval for everything and would look up at him like he'd hung the moon for him all of the time

i really liked making this. might make a part two.

[a-libra-writes]

AAAA REQUESTS ARE OPENED ILYSM!!11!1!1If it's not too much id like to request for my bbgs Jamie, Brienne and maybe Arya when they haven't seen s/o all day so they're getting pretty angsty but when they're finished with training or whatever for the day they find beloved asleep in one of the spots they usually meet at while waiting for them. (Sorry if I made it too specific) sending much loveლ⁠(⁠´⁠ ⁠❥⁠ ⁠`⁠ლ⁠)

Im gonna do Jaime and Brienne (and some others bc i cannot control myself) but sans Arya! lets goooo

Jaime - First of all, he's in a foul mood when he finally gets back, muttering and grumbling to himself. When he spots you in the usual spot you wait in - oh. Shit, that's actually ... very endearing. He wants to be smug about it, but there's just a lot of sentiment that sits with him as he tries to remember someone wanting to see him that badly, that they'd fall asleep waiting. He watches you for a little while, considering this, before finally waking you up. Now he's all smug and teasing you about being so clingy. Naturally he'll escort you back to your chambers, not really caring about the hour or that he's a Kingsguard and shouldn't be seen doing such things. He'll figure out a lie an explanation later.

Jon - He's ready to kick in the door of the Lord Commander's chambers, if only his sore and freezing body would cooperate. Jon's exhausted and figured a while ago you would've gone to bed. You both have to be careful, after all - but then he spots you dozed off in an old wooden chair by a dying hearth. Were you waiting up this whole time? He feels guilty at once, and tries to be quiet as he gets the fire going again. Once it's up, Jon gently wakes you up by brushing some of your hair aside and kissing your brow. He really can't help himself, though his hands are like ice! You two cuddle and warm up before heading to your separate chambers.

Brienne - It was a brutal day of riding and routing bandits, and while she can normally take it, this went on longer than usual. Brienne's strong, but she has her physical limit. She's staggering back, being the last to retire to bed. When she finds that you waited for her, she feels so bad! Brienne hadn't realized you'd do such a thing - it fills up her heart with affection, so she gently wakes you and asks if she can carry you back to your room. You actually accept, and she feels the fatigue wash away as she gladly carries you back. She loves being a knight for you, and it turns out you're very snuggly when you're tired.

Arthur Dayne - He leaves his post late in the evening, much later than the usual meeting time. You probably aren't there, but - it's worth a look, isn't it? And there you are, asleep in the garden you and Arthur like to steal away to. He wakes you up very gently, cautioning you between kisses about falling asleep in such a vulnerable state. He doesn't have the heart to really scold you about it, at least not until the morning. He escorts you halfway to your chambers before has to retreat to the White Sword Tower.

Victarion - He already thinks about you when he doesn't want to, or when it's not a good time. It happens more often when he's tired, which is troublesome. The late hour doesn't occur to him when he's back; you're always waiting, no matter what, and - oh. You're asleep. ... You really shouldn't be asleep where anyone could find you and do something, even in Castle Pyke. Victarion scoops you right up, not realizing how badly that would startle you. He just grumbles that you ought to be more careful, and any touches or kisses distract him immediately.

Asha - First, why are you so damn cute? How'd you end up in a place like the Iron Islands, anyway? For once in her life, someone is waiting for her at home like a puppy... even when she gets back late, like now. Asha wills her tired body over and wakes you up with a big kiss and her soft laugh. Aww, what, you really like her that much? She messes with your hair and pulls you up, urging you to her chambers as you stumble and grumble behind her.

Jorah - Well he's always thinking of you, but especially so if he had to depart before the sun is up and he's finally returning hours after its set. By then, Jorah's exhausted and just wants to get home to you. Once he finds you asleep on the settee you like best - oh no, he might die from the sweetness. You waited up for him? Jorah sits right next to you, giving you a big, sleepy hug and apologizing about being back so late. You both end up falling asleep cuddled up on the couch because he's too tired to move and now you're comfortable and warm, so you aren't going anywhere.

Brynden - Coming back from a long day of training and keeping up with his men, Brynden doesn't notice the time until he spots you sleeping on a large windowsill. He feels bad for making you wait so long, and finds it endearing you even wanted to wait up for an old knight. He picks you up very carefully, so it's his voice that wakes you. "Making these old bones carry you back to bed, hm?" He's not bothered that anyone would spot you two - he knows which halls are empty at this hour.

[importantchaosgiver]

Where Loyalties Lie:

A Child Of The Gods

Summary: (Y/N) now comes across a new issue. Her dreams are getting worse, she feels like her head is being torn in two and she doesn't know how to stop it...

Warnings: Canon typical swearing, slight angst

******

(Y/N)'s POV

"Take me to Dragonstone and make me your wife,"

"I lost an eye, but I gained a dragon,"

"Her sons... are bastards! And she is... a whore,"

"He can keep his tongue,"

Two of those voices were so familiar. Rhaenyra and Daemon. I think I heard Vaemond Velaryon's voice too. We briefly crossed paths in the Stepstones. But that second voice... it was a child's. A male's. But none of which I have heard. It was all a haze. Stood in a plane of grey fog, voices surrounding me. What was going on?!

"Chaos is a ladder,"

"I am from no noble house, no one is under obligation to call me Lord,"

"The Mad King did as he liked. Has your Uncle Jamie ever told you what happened to him?"

"The things I do for love,"

I've never heard those voices before. What was this? The Mad King? Who was that? I squinted through the fog as the haze began to lift a bit. Then, a bright light. It made me shield my eyes before I realised... I was stood in King's Landing. In the throne room. But... it looked different. Looking around, I saw a court gathered. But no one I recognised. My dreams... they're happening again! Then, I heard sobbing. A young woman with fiery red hair was knelt before the Iron Throne, the back of her dress, clutching it to her body. A knight of the Kingsguard unsheathed his sword, making me gasp in horror. This was no Kingsguard I knew nor would they do this! A young man sat upon the Iron Throne with golden hair and a crown upon his head. "What is the meaning of this?!" a voice said and the court moved back to show a dwarf and a man I would assume was a sellsword.

The knight sheathed his steel. "What kind of knight beats a helpless girl?!" the dwarf hissed. "The kind that serves his king, imp," this 'knight' said. I glared at him. I walked over to the sobbing girl, putting my hand on her shoulder but... it went straight through. Merely a dream. "Careful now. We wouldn't want to get blood all over that pretty white cloak," the sellsword said. "Someone get the girl something to cover herself with. She is to be your queen. Have you no regard for her honour?!" the short man asked this young king. "I'm punishing her!" the king scoffed. Another member of the Kingsguard walked forward, taking off his cloak and draping it over the girl. Half of his face had horrific burn scars on. Gods be good. "For what crimes?! She did not fight her brother's battle, you half-wit," this man said. My respect was with this one. "You can't talk to me like that. The king can do as he likes!" the 'king' said, sitting upon the Iron Throne. "The Mad King did as he liked. Has your Uncle Jamie ever told you what happened to him?" the dwarf asked. Then, my surroundings grew foggy once again. There were more whispers. Such as 'The North remembers', 'Hold the door', 'Any man who must say I am the king is no true king'.

"Winter Is Coming!"

I gasped, shooting up in my bed, breathing heavily. Those piercing icy blue eyes made such an abrupt image in my head... Seven Hells! I rubbed my eyes, trying to rid myself of the things I saw. They are just dreams. Just... dreams...

"Lady (Y/N)?" Otto asked. I flinched. "When did you get in here?!" I demanded, only just realising his hand was on my shoulder. "I heard sounds of distress. You looked..." the Lord Hand muttered, struggling for words. My jaw clenched. "I need to figure some things out. Can you tell the king I will not be attending my usual duties today?" I asked, getting out of my bed. "My lady, that isn't-" "Please, Otto! Just this once," I pleaded. I needed to clear some things up. He looked at me and sigh with a nod. Thank the gods. I need these answers...

~~~

No One's POV

The door to a small wooden hut opened. "Mother?" (Y/N) asked, lowering the hood of her cloak. (M/N) quickly turned around, gasping. "Oh, my darling daughter! Look at you!" she said, hobbling over to her child and hugging her. (Y/N) smiled, hugging her elderly mother back. "You have grown so much," (M/N) said, holding her face in her old and wrinkled hands. "When did this happen?" she asked, her thumb touching the healing scar. "In the Stepstones, mother. But, that isn't why I am here. I've got some questions. And I need help," (Y/N) explained as they both sat at the table. (M/N) poured tea, allowing her daughter to continue.

"I keep having strange dreams. Of... what is to come. I dreamt about so many things. And years ago... I swear, I felt Aemma dying," (Y/N) explained. Instantly, her mother stopped, almost dropping the teapot. "Mother?" the Lady Commander asked gently. (M/N) sighed sadly, taking her seat. "I am sorry, my dear. I didn't wish to tell you, and with your duty in the Kingsguard, there was never time," she said. She sounded like she had aged decades from that simple explanation. "Tell me what?" (Y/N) asked in confusion. (M/N) gave a soft, almost melancholic, smile to her. "You were... a miracle. I was found to be barren. Perfect for working in the pleasure houses on the Street of Silk. One day, I went to the Godswood to find some herbs for others I worked with to help make moontea. When... I heard something. A babe's cry. I found you at the base of a Weirwood tree, the red leaves surrounding you like a blanket, the face in the tree crying its red sap. You were crying, so full of life. I had never seen such a gift. The Gods meant for me to find you and for you to be found," (M/N) explained gently, her hand atop the knight's.

(Y/N) felt her stomach drop to the soles of her boots. She... she was found?! "B-But... then who gave birth to me?" she asked weakly. "My dearest daughter... you were a naked babe in the woods, found at what most consider a direct way of talking with the gods. And you have done so much regardless of societal norms. You were made by the gods, made for greatness," (M/N) whispered softly. Now it all made sense, but didn't at the same time. Why she was so fast, why she had subtle differences no one else had and how she was so strong... but she? A bastard?! No, not even that anymore. A Child of The Seven?! She was crafted by the gods for her purpose. She was supposed to do something. But what...?!

******

Hope you like this little twist!

[harmonie-writes]

The Buccaneer Queen pt. 16

Pirate! ATEEZ x pirate!fem Reader

Genre: fantasy pirate AU, future romance

Warnings: angst, language, violence, death, gore, mentions of guns and cannons. The characters in this story are purely fictitious and do not portray actual people.

AN: italics are thoughts

Word count: ~3.8k

Summary: Women are considered bad luck upon the vessels that sail the Seven Seas. Before you became the captain of The Astraea, a witch of sorts cursed you and the crew leaving a physical mark upon your chest just above where your heart would lie. Anyone that sees the Black Standard flying on the black and gold ship knows that they have stumbled upon the Armada of the Damned which is piloted by the Buccaneer Queen.

Masterlist

Previous | Next

»»————-　➴　————-««

Previously on The Buccaneer Queen:

Opening the drawer on the table, he begins to look for thread and a needle but stops. Turning to look at you, he watches the way your skin begins to sew itself back together.

"Neat trick," Seonghwa murmurs, opting for a rag and clean water. At least he can clean the healed wound at your shoulder.

Arms dangling off his knees, he lets his head hang, just sitting on a barrel beside the table you lay on, lost in thought.

It's when he feels a hand brush his hair back from his forehead that he sits up in shock.

You wear a tired smile, but it's genuine. A raspy 'thank you' leaves your lips. A small smile settles on his face as he grabs a hold of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Yunho has already gone back up to the main deck with Jamie, who looked especially relieved to see you resting, to help with the remaining tasks as they begin the long trip out into open water while Seonghwa remains with you in the sick bay.

It's been a few hours since you've been brought aboard and have since been covered with a blanket. It felt wrong to force you to put a shirt on after the whole ordeal you had gone through. It also just felt wrong to not cover you at all, for Goddess' sake, even if he was a pirate he was still a gentleman.

Figuring you were going to be out for a while, Seonghwa stood from the stool he had been perched on and stretched, groaning when he felt the satisfying crack in his back. Casting you a quick glance he strode out of the sick bay in search of food from the galley.

His weary eyes took note of his crew members milling about the galley of The Treasure. Even with his short time on the Astera he had gotten used to his new ship, but now it was a little jarring being back on the ship that he called home.

"Hwa!" Wooyoung called from one of the bench tables, beckoning him to join the rest of them as they ate a small dinner.

Dragging his feet he made his way over, and Hongjoong slid a plate over to his first mate.

"You should eat something," was all his captain said, before picking up his own food again.

Seonghwa gave a nod as he observed the dried meats and bread on his plate. A thought had crossed his mind then, that the bread must be stale at this point considering how long they've been away. They'd need to stop at a port for new rations.

"How is our lady captain?" Mingi asked, mouth full of bread.

Swallowing the lump of food, Seonghwa answered tiredly, "She's doing fine. Resting in one of the sick beds."

"Why the sudden change of heart? Didn't you hate her or something?" Wooyoung asked, only to receive a swift elbow in his ribs by Yeosang.

Seonghwa just shrugged. Truly, he didn't quite know where he stood with you or what he thought of you. You did save his captain and all and forced them into the dinghies while you stayed and went down with the Astraea.

The rest of the meal was brief, not much talking after the events that transpired, just hushed whispers here and there. Seonghwa was honestly tired of the murmurs of both crews and decided to refill his plate once more before excusing himself from the table.

It's not much but he had a plate of stale bread, dried meat, and a glass of water for you. It was better than nothing.

Pushing the door open with his hip he was greeted with an empty infirmary. Just his luck, his own patient was now missing. Letting his head fall back he lets out a deep sigh, there hasn't been much time for rest as he's been dealing with a swirling guilt in his stomach, but he also realizes that this isn't the time for self pity. Straightening his shoulders, he turns around with hopes of finding you quickly. How hard can that be, it's not like there's many places for you to go on a ship.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Climbing the last few steps to the top deck he finds you where he thought he would. Coincidentally, it happens to be where they found you on their first night on the Astraea, standing on the bow of the ship's railing.

"Thought I'd find you out here," Seonghwa says, as he comes to a stop just off to your left.

Your eyes don't break away from the dark, swirling water in front of you, but you do give the dark haired pirate a small nod.

It's silent for a moment before he speaks again, "I went to look for you in the sick bay, but you were gone."

"I just needed some fresh air," you answer, your toes curl against the railing as if to ground yourself. "How long was I asleep?"

You can hear Seonghwa hum behind you, "After we last spoke? Probably half a day's worth has gone by."

You grimace as you realize how inconvenient that probably was for people to deal with.

When you don't answer, Seonghwa speaks again. "I came to bring you some food. It's not much, but it's all we have until we reach another port."

Hearing that you glance over your shoulder at him. It’s slow going, but your foot pivots and then you’re landing softly on the deck of the ship. You glance up at the man next to you, but his gaze remains fixed to the dark horizon, much like what you were doing moments prior to him joining you. The only indication that he’s paying any sort of attention is the plate being slid on the railing to you. Murmuring a quick ‘thanks', you pick up the bread, the crust is tough so you dip it in the glass that Seonghwa offers you. The water helps soften the crust, but you can feel the dryness coat your tongue as you munch on the bread. Setting down the small roll you opt to nibble on the salted meat instead.

The silence stretches between you two as you finish your meal, only after is the silence broken by Seonghwa.

“Yeosang found a merchant island not too far from where we are, called the Port Ame,” he still doesn’t look at you. You take note of the distant look in his eyes and wonder where his thoughts are at, but you know better than to pry.

Truthfully, you don’t know where your relationship with the helmsman stands. There isn’t a lot of trust between the two of you, but something changed within the last day. Humming to yourself, you decide that you won’t press the issue, at least not yet.

“You should get some rest Seonghwa, you’ve done a lot since being back on your ship,” your voice is gentle, quiet. You can see the weariness that rolls off him, the way his shoulders are slumped and the bags that are under his eyes.

There’s not much spoken, but you hear a noncommittal hum from him. It just encourages you to give him a small push back towards the entrance of the lower deck. He continues a few steps before stopping and turning around, surprised to see you already watching him.

“Where will you go?” he asks.

“I’ll go back to the med bay when I’m ready. It won’t be much longer,” you tell him, hands clasping together in front of you.

He nods once more, a quiet ‘goodnight’ following him, one that you return.

Your gaze returns to the horizon again as you think about what Seonghwa had told you. You’d soon find yourself at the island that always rains.

»»————-　➴　————-««

You awake to a knock on the door of the med bay, and a head of lavender hair.

“Good morning, Wooyoung,” you greet him, as you finish tying off your hair into a loose braid.

“Morning to you Captain,” Wooyoung smiles.

“Just YN, I’m not a captain anymore,” you tell him, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You can see his smile falter a little before he sets it again.

“Ah, okay,” He fully opens the door for you, “Hongjoong would like a word with you.”

Dusting the imaginary dirt off the borrowed breeches you make your way to Wooyoung, “Then let’s not keep the Captain waiting. Lead the way.”

There’s a strange atmosphere as you are led through the Treasure, everyone being happier than normal to see you. The interactions cause a small crease to form in your brow.

Reaching the door to Hongjoong’s quarters, Wooyoung turns to look at you and notices the confusion settling between your eyes.

Rubbing a thumb over the spot he murmurs, “Everyone is just relieved to see that you’re doing well. Most haven’t seen you up since bringing you on board the ship.”

Your mouth forms a silent ‘o’ at this, and you can’t help wondering how much distress you caused your crew and Hongjoong’s.

Before you get the chance to ask, Wooyoung is knocking on the door and striding away to head to his post.

You hear a “come in” before you push the door open. Yeosang is leaning over Hongjoong’s shoulder pointing out something on a map before they both look up to greet you.

“Thank you Yeo, we can discuss this some more later,” Hongjoong tells him.

“Of course, Joong,” he’s gathering up the parchment on the table and putting them under his arms. As he passes you, he gives your hand a small squeeze before excusing himself from the quarters.

Hongjoong moves from his seat to stand in front of you, you who had only taken a few steps into the cabin.

“How are you feeling?” Hongjoong asks, gently picking up your hand.

Oddly intimate, you think, as you look at how he holds your hand so delicately, carefully tracing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I’m as well as I can be,” you answer truthfully. You’re clearly alive at the cost of your ship, thankfully no one was lost to sea while it sank.

He’s silent for a moment before phrasing it again. “How is your condition?” It comes out almost like a whisper.

“No different than before,” you tell him. The weight of the souls that you carry has stayed the same.

“Good,” he nods, and pulls you with him towards the chairs near the desk.

He pulls out the chair in front of his desk for you, and you take a seat. Watching as he moves around the desk to his own chair.

“Wooyoung said you wanted to speak with me?” you ask, trying to get rid of the intimate atmosphere he created, even though you enjoyed the care he held your hand with.

“Right to business I see,” Hongjoong says, straightening himself out. “I wanted to thank you for taking a bullet for me.”

“It was nothing really,” you murmur, picking up a compass and spinning it against the wood of the desk.

Hongjoong watches you closely before continuing, “Why didn’t you try to come with us? We could’ve all fit on the lifeboat.”

Stopping your ministrations, you look up at him, “To ensure the safety of my fa- crew.”

You can see the way his features pull down in a frown, as if he doesn’t believe you.

“To ensure our safety you say,” Hongjoong spits your words back at you, “I watched you fall overboard. Do you know how helpless I felt not being able to grab you? To save you?”

Mouth agape you stare at him. You honestly had no idea you made the ruthless Pirate King feel helpless in that moment.

“Of course you wouldn’t know,” Hongjoong said, covering his face with his hand as he slumped back into his chair.

The silence between you stretches that all you can hear are the waves slapping the sides of the ship and the thundering of your heartbeat beating in your ears. Normally, you'd feel calm and composed in most situations, but whatever has transpired since your ship sank and seeing Seungcheol on The Diamond has rattled you to your core.

"Tell me something," Hongjoong asks, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the desk hands clasped together concealing the bottom half of his face.

Your gaze drifts to him as you wait for him to continue.

"What does the captain of The Diamond mean to you?"

"Do you mean besides what he owes me?" You ask, feigning nonchalance by leaning back in the cushioned chair you're sitting on.

"What else would cause you to be so angry over a man?" Eyes boring into yours, he presses on, "Something happened that's much deeper than you're letting on."

You chew the inside of your lip as you finally manage to break your gaze with him. Why, why does he have to be so observant?

"What are you trying to find Hongjoong? What possible good comes from knowing about past relations?" You counter.

Hongjoong's stare is hard as he gazes at you. Trying to find out why you're deflecting the topic so much. Why does it bother you so much?

"The safety of everyone on board relies on knowing. Knowing what kind of madness we are all getting into," he tells you, finally dropping his hands to the table.

Your eyes follow the movements of his hands, and you don't lift your gaze from them. You watch the tick in the top of his hand as he presses them together, maybe to contain his frustration with you. The lack of information he needs because you won't give a straight answer.

Releasing a sigh, you let your shoulder slump. Maybe it'll be better to share the burden, you think.

"We were together romantically. He was someone I thought would keep me safe. Treasure the bond we shared, but he was a coward," your voice comes out quiet, but in the quiet quarters of Hongjoong’s room it seems so loud.

"He was the one that outed me to the witch all those years ago," your voice begins to raise as you remember that night.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Your captain's ship was caught in the middle of a nasty storm as your ship was transporting an elderly woman to a new port. You remember taking an inventory of the various herbs, wraps, and other various medicinal supplies in the medicine drawers within the small cabin. One hand gingerly fingered through the supplies while the other laid comfortably over your midsection. The rattling of metal equipment in glass jars locked away on a cupboard kept you company as you logged what you'd need to pick up from Ame.

The sound of the wooden door to the sick bay cracked against a barrel as it was flung open, a screech following soon after startling you from your counting.

Whirling around on the crate you were sitting on, you were met with a wrinkled and crooked finger jabbing into your chest.

"I knew it! I knew the storm was a bad omen!" She hissed, spittle hitting you in the face.

You couldn't help but gawk at how red in the face this woman had become, and even more so, you haven't even done anything.

"What do you mean by bad omen?" You narrow your eyes at the woman.

"You are a woman sailing on this ship! Women bring bad luck on the seas!" She screeched.

"Are you not one as well?" You question, brow raising at the absurdity. It's then that you notice Seungcheol inside the door frame.

"Seungcheol?" You ask, hoping that his eyes will meet yours, but they don't. They remain fixed to the floor.

"Bring her to the top deck," the woman commands, whirling on her heel and leaving the room.

You can see the way his jaw ticks in frustration as he comes further into the room.

"Cheol, talk to me, please. What's happening?" You ask as he grabs one of your arms. He doesn't hold you in a familiar way at all, his grip too firm on your arm.

You push again, "Seungcheol?"

You're met with a brooding silence as you're pushed rather harshly out of the cabin.

Rain and wind whip against your face, and it's only a matter of moments before your clothes are soaked through, sending a chill deep into your bones.

Somehow, you manage to hear the woman's shrill cries over the howling winds.

"How dare you escort me with a woman on your crew! You have damned every person on this ship by allowing her to sail onto open water!"

The moment would be rather funny watching the little lady yell at your giant of a captain if the circumstances weren't what they currently were. You have no idea what you've done wrong, and to be in the middle of this situation, it just didn't make any sense.

"You paid us for refuge and an escort to a new island. You have no right now to be upset about who I have on my crew," your captain seethes, leaning his face down at the wretched woman.

You're not entirely sure what transpired, but your captain has his arm twisted to the side in a hold that no elderly woman should possess the strength to have and a bone knife pressed to his neck.

"Wait! Stop! What are you doing?" You scream, struggling to get out of Seungcheol's grip.

Whirling on him, you scream, "Let go of me! Why aren't you helping our captain? Let me go!"

"Quiet!" He twists your arm as far as it'll go without snapping before he's pushing you in the there direction.

Your eyes scan wildly at your other crew mates, but there seems to be a haze over them. It must be rainwater in your eyes, but they almost seem to be moving slower.

You're jostled from your thoughts as you're shoved to the deck, Seungcheol holding one arm behind your back and the other at the back of your neck.

You try to turn your head to glare at the man who you thought you could trust.

"You're a part of this?" You hiss, fingers digging into the damp wood of the deck.

"I was promised a way out," Seungcheol answers, not even bothering to look at you.

"What do you mean a way out?" You try to get him to look at you, "Seungcheol, what do you mean?"

You can see the way his brow creases and the frown that sets on his face.

"Answer me!" You scream at him.

"Your crew will die because of you, but you will have the fortune of being the first to go," she continues, waving the bone knife around in the air.

You curse under your breath as you realize how truly helpless you are in this situation. If you try to struggle any further, you know you'll dislocate your shoulder. You turn your eyes away from the scene in front of you, forehead resting against the deck as tears prick your eyes.

You hear it over the thunder and crashing waves, the choked gurgling followed by a heavy thud.

Lifting your head and trying to clear bleary eyes, you can make out the slumped form of your captain lying on the deck. A red pool forms beneath him rapidly. You think you hear a scream. Your second thought is that maybe it's your scream, but you're not too sure.

A gnarled hand tangles in your hair before giving it a harsh yank. You glare at the hag before you, and you meet her malice filled gaze with one of your own, but she has a nasty smirk adorned on her face as she leans in to whisper in your ear.

"I know your secret you whore," she whispers, as pain erupts in your abdomen as she twists the knife deeper into your gut.

Coughing, you can feel the thick, warmth of blood fill your mouth and run down your chin.

Seungcheol finally drops your arm and takes a hasty step back away from you. Guilt is taking over his face, but he's quick to turn away from you.

Pressing a hand to your stomach, you cry out. It's an agonizing cry, one that carries across the water. A ragged scream of a lost love and betrayal. For a love that never got to blossom, you cry. And soon, your vision darkens, and you're left alone on the deck of your old ship.

The storm has passed, and the sun beats down on a ship and the person who lies on the deck.

A dry cough escapes your lips, and you try to wet your lips with your rough tongue. Your head feels like lead as you try to sit up, and there's an excruciating pain in your abdomen, which brings back all the memories rushing to the front of your mind.

Gingerly, you lift the bottom of your torn shirt only to be met with nothing. It's just a scar.

Scrambling to your feet, you rush to your captain's quarters, looking for something sharp. After turning over the desk drawers, your eye catches sight of a silver letter opener. There isn't much thought as you bring the blade across your palm. It stings, and you bite your lip to suppress a shout. To your horror, though, you watch as the edges of the wound begin to create thread like fibers and stitch the wound close once more.

"No, no, no, no," you whisper, bringing your hands to your head and gripping your hair tightly. Your knees buckle, and you find yourself in a fetal position on the floor.

"This can't be happening," you whisper, and somehow you manage to shed a few tears that you thought had all dried up.

»»————-　➴　————-««

"What did he take from you?" Hongjoong asks, his eyes not giving away how he's feeling.

"He took my mortality," you fix him with a glare, even though the anger isn't directed at him.

"He took away my son," you add, jaw feathering in anger as you reopen old wounds.

»»————-　➴　————-««

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[cosmal]

DAISY — james dating a hufflepuff ‘cloud girl’ reader!! (congrats on 1k ily <3)

okay so james potter was one of the first boys you’ve ever dated

also he’s one of the only people that makes you feel okay about being quiet sometimes

when you first met, it was at a mutual friend's small party, and you’d ended up sitting up next to each other.

he’d noticed you were quiet so didn’t really push for you to say much, which was really calming for you. just to have someone with you who wasn’t trying to force you to interact.

but then he’s cracking the stupidest jokes ever

something like, “bird flu? i sure hope it does.”

and he’s got you giggling like a schoolgirl

from then on, james was always trying his hardest to get you to laugh. he thought it was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard.

once you do get together, he never forced you to go to things with him.

you like going to his sports matches and things. always his number-one supporter!

but it takes you a moment to warm up to his friends.

especially sirius.

“just let me know if you want to go home, okay?”

“yeah, jamie.”

the whole night, he’s stuck to your side.

introduces you to everyone as his girl.

you beam.

eventually, you tell him to go have fun. go hang out with his friends. because you’ve actually made good friends with alice.

“okay, just tell me if sirius annoys you.”

“fuck off, i would never!” sirius shouts

because he really wouldn't. you find out he’s just as nice and before you know it, you’re friends with everyone.

though james is very good at telling when your social battery has run out.

he’ll let you lean into his side while he’s talking to remus or frank.

throw his arm over your shoulder and just talk over your head because he knows you’re just as content being by his side.

he sometimes thinks you’ve fallen asleep against his chest but you’re still fiddling with his hands in your lap.

he’d never force you to be there longer than you want to so he’s asking you for the better half of the night if you’re tired or if you just wanna go home.

at first, you just tell him a white lie.

“james, i’m okay. look, remus is waving at you, go!”

“okay, i’ll be back.”

by the third time he asks, you tell him that you do kinda wanna go to bed.

“okay, im tired, so we’re gonna go home.” he’d say to everyone.

when it’s just the two of you out, you’re always holding his hand.

you’ll be grocery shopping or something and he’ll go to grab something across the aisle, but as soon as he puts in the basket, he’ll grab your hand again where it’s flexing at your side before you have the chance to grab his.

holding his hand when out for dinner, waiting on food.

holding his hand during breakfast at the table.

holding his hand during sex.

holding his hand while sleeping.

one time you held his hand while he brushed his teeth.

though he’s still clingier than you

he’ll never admit it though.

[its-time-to-write]

PLEASE i am on my knees for jamie x reader where she’s just crying thinking about all the times he needed someone but no one was there.. and now everything is great, he’s grown and he has so much love and support and he has her but all she can do is sob because when you love someone you wish you were could be there to hold them even if they were 8 and their dad was a dick.. yknow??? AND he’s just holding her face, nodding and reassuring her he’s fine and he has so many people, especially her, and he’s lowkey choked up too

So. This is actually a mix of two writings. The first part is from your request, the second is something I wrote shortly after my very first post. I actually wrote it because I was processing some personal things, so… yeah. Here it is. Just be warned, it talks about abuse and stuff, Jamie’s dad shows up and is his regular, douchey self. If that’s upsetting for anyone, just be aware. If this needs more warnings, let me know.

i don’t know how you keep smiling/i’m just choking almost constantly

“He what?” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “You’re telling me he took you there and made you do that?”

You’re sitting on your couch in your flat, legs across Jamie’s lap. He’d come over out of nowhere an hour earlier, just knocked on your door and said, “Can we talk?”

You let him in because of course you can talk. You make tea, sit down on the couch, and words just come spilling out of Jamie. It is all about his dad. How he drank, yelled, and hit, precisely in that order. Watching his mum throw him out and accept him back in, in what felt like an endless cycle. Hiding how bad it really was for her because his dad was making her laugh and she was smiling and anyway, it’s not like the bruises were anywhere anyone could see.

Jamie tells you how his dad came to his game the night before, went to the locker room, and how Jamie punched him. He says he’s scared of his dad finding him, because his dad always makes good on a threat, and he doesn’t usually have anyone to talk to but he figured you might be a good listener, what with being his girlfriend of five months and all. He says it all while staring at the chipped mug on your coffee table, the one he insisted you can’t throw out because it’s his favorite, and who care’s if it’s a little damaged? It adds character.

But all you can think about is little eight-year-old Jamie, hiding under his bed and pulling out his front tooth because his dad broke it, so he can tell his mom he just lost it like all the other kids.

You think of what you were doing that year. You would have just turned six, chasing your brother with a fairy wand and a nerf gun, ponytail flying.

The mental image of Jamie under his bed, cowering in a corner, learning to cover up welts and to lie to his mum brings a fresh wave of tears. Just the thought of him being alone makes it feel as though your heart is breaking, and you wish you would have known him then. Your parents would have loved him. Wouldn’t have let his father come around and hit him.

He just finished telling you about Amsterdam, and you can physically feel your soul shatter into pieces on his behalf. The fact that he can’t even remember it is what really gets you. 

Jamie, meanwhile has stopped staring at the mug and is now looking at you. “It- it’s alright, love,” he says. “I’m here now, and it’s alright.”

Through blurry eyes, you can see that it is not alright. Jamie’s eyes are watering now too, and he pulls you onto his lap. He wraps his arms around you and you let him bury his head in the crook of your neck.

You sniff and pull yourself together. “No, Jaim, it’s not alright. You can say, ‘I’m alright,’ or ‘I will be alright,’ but what that shithead did to you is not and never will be ok. And I’m glad you’re telling me about it, and I’m only crying because I keep thinking about how you must’ve felt. It’s not because I can’t handle it, because I can. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, and you’re going to be ok.”

Jamie has started shaking in your arms, and you feel a tears start to drop onto your neck.

You run your fingers through his hair and whisper, “You’re ok. I’m here, I’ve got you, and you’re ok. I’m not leaving. You’re ok.”

—

That was the first real time Jamie ever told you about his dad. You’d talk about it periodically, whenever it got really bad, and he also started talking to a therapist. Doctor Sharon, you think her name was? Anyway, he’s getting better in his mind, which is good, because sometimes you don’t know what to do beyond listen. And you do. Soon, Jamie’s stories about his dad begin with, “Dr. Sharon says…” and he’s not as angry anymore. Not as jaded, not as broken. There are still deep cuts, but his spirit is coming back. He’s not broken in such a way that he can’t be put back together, piece by piece.

—

It’s not until you’re out to dinner at your favorite restaurant that something actually happens.

“Jamie,” you say, face serious, empty plates between you.

“Yes, love,” he replies, matching your expression.

“I think that we should get ice cream.”

His face breaks into a smile as he slides his hand off the top of yours to run it through his hair. “Babe. We just ate enough food to put a horse into a coma, and you want ice cream? What about digestion?”

“Jamie. Listen-” you both argue as he pays the bill, takes your hand again, and swings it while you head in the direction of the ice cream shop.

“-And if you think about it, it’s actually a wise food choice,” you continue.

“Babe,” he laughs, “I just think that you might be making up the health benefits of strawberry ice…”

Jamie's counter-argument has trailed off as he stares at something ahead of you, rather someone who is stumbling down the sidewalk in your direction.

You have never seen this man before, but you know exactly who he is.

He's still a good seven feet away when he yells, “Well, well, look who it is. Me son, who can’t even take the time to return his own father’s phone calls! Just joking, just joking, hey? And who’s this fine little lady?” he asks, punctuating his words with a few fake punches in Jamie’s direction as he draws closer.

Jamie is still holding your hand, but has maneuvered himself in between you and his father. He has yet to say anything, so you take your cue from him and keep silent.

James Tartt, Sr. is in front of you now, and it is more obvious now than ever that he is intoxicated. He's swaying a little bit as he stands, and there is the stench of alcohol with each breath he blows. Jamie is holding your hand so tight that it hurts, but you don’t let go. You grip it back.

“Dad,” Jamie says as a way of greeting, face taut.

You're under a streetlight, but not many people are around this time of night.

“Jamie,” his father replies, mocking his serious tone, “is this how I find out you’ve got a girl? Runnin’ into you on the street? Couldn't have sent me a quick message about it, hey? Oh I joke, I joke,” he says. His words are grating, and he keeps punching at Jamie. You do not like it at all. 

“What d’you want, dad?” Jamie asks, gripping your hand harder, if that’s even possible.

His dad wipes his face. “Ey, listen, since you’re ‘ere, what do you say you get me tickets to the Man City game this weekend? Can spend some quality time with this one.” He winks at you in a way you’re sure he thinks is endearing, which is a problem because three things happen in rapid succession: his dad makes a rude comment about quality time, Jamie pushes you behind him saying, “Don’t you ever fucking speak to her,” and James Tartt shouts, “You self-righteous, fuckin’ pussy!” and moves to hit Jamie. 

You’re not sure which one of you he’s talking to, but it doesn’t matter because Jamie’s dad is on the ground and people are starting to stare. You pull Jamie’s still clenched fist down and say, “Babe, let’s get out of here,” while James Tartt is drunkenly trying to stand.

“Babe,” you say a little more forcefully. “let’s go.”

Jamie snaps out of it, lets out a short, “Right, yeah,” and then you’re walking as fast as you can in the opposite direction. 

Not fast enough, apparently, because you still hear his father yell, “That's two you’ve got on me, boy! You better watch your back!”

You have no circulation in your hand and for the first time that night, you feel real fear. Not for yourself, but for Jamie. You may have never met his father, but you’ve heard enough. You know that he always makes good on a threat. 

Jamie looks back twice to make sure you aren’t being followed, and you just walk. You walk a mile past your flat and then circle back. Jamie hasn’t said a single word, just held your hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world. It's not until you’re on your doorstep that you decide to break the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You’re facing each other, you one step above him so you’re almost eye-level.

Jamie shakes his head and looks away. “Not- not tonight. I don’t think I can- I’m not sure-”

“Hey,” You slowly lift your free hand and brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead. Not slowly enough, apparently, because he still flinches almost imperceptibly, “It’s alright, Jaim. We don’t have to talk about it tonight.”

Jamie blows out a sigh, and you slide your hand from his hair to his cheek. He just looks so tired, all the anger and defensiveness gone out of him.

“Your place or mine?” you ask because there’s no way in hell you’re letting him be alone tonight.

Jamie shakes his head slightly. “I can’t. I have training tomorrow.”

“Jamie-”

“No, look, I just need something to be normal. And I don’t want you coming over in case me dad fuckin’ decides to come ‘round. I'll come over tomorrow after practice and we can talk then.”

He says it with such resigned finality that you don’t fight him on it. You whisper a soft “alright,” and then wrap your arms around him as tight as they can go. Jamie hugs you so hard you almost can’t breathe, but you don’t ever want to let him go; you memorize the feel of his arms around you, his head in the crook of your neck, and the erratic beat of his heart.

He lets you go after a long moment, waits to make sure that you get inside safely, and then you watch him begin the two-block trudge to his house.

You stay awake until your phone dings with a made it from Jamie, and then, despite all the thoughts swirling in your head, you fall asleep.

——

You startle awake by someone yelling outside, followed by a loud knocking. You squint at the clock which reads an awful one a.m. for a split second you wonder if it’s Jamie at your door, then you catch a word this person is yelling.

Whore.

You’re wide awake now. You grab your phone to text Jamie as his father continues to pound on your door yelling, You stupid fucking bitch, no one messes with James Tartt, I’ll make you fucking pay for that shit he pulled!

The text goes through and you wait a second before calling 999. They answer your call and promise that someone will be over right away. You know for a fact Jamie is still asleep, but you call him just in case and his sleep-deprived voice answers on the third ring. You can only get out a few words - outside, your dad, police - before he is wide awake and on his way over.

——

It's all kind of a blur, really, and you feel truly horrendous, but all you can think about is Jamie. You’re not really sure how he does it, but he is at your flat right before the police. All your neighbor’s lights are on now, and Jamie is in your doorway holding you tight. 

You think about how awful this must be for him.

It's his dad. It’s like being a kid all over again.

You’re supposed to be the one person who he can feel safe around, but now you’re asking him to step into a volatile situation.

He got woken up in the middle of the night when he needs his sleep, which resulted in him seeing his dad get arrested.

All you can say is, “I'm sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again, as you try not to cry into Jamie’s pajama shirt.

He pulls back a little and wipes a stray tear from your cheek.

“Your place or mine?” he asks, because there’s no way in hell he’s letting you be alone tonight.

You shake your head. “Neither,” you say. “You have training in two hours.”

“Yours,” he says as he gently backs you into the flat and shuts the door. 

“What about Roy?” you ask. Roy gets pissed if Jamie skips training.

Jamie pulls out his phone and narrates as he types: “Granddad. Won't be at training this mornin. If you’re mad about it you can go fuck yourself,” and then presses send.

You have the bizarre urge to laugh. “Jamie, you did not type that.” You try to grab his phone from him but he holds it out of your reach and shuts it off.

“Oi. We’re going to sleep and we ain’t thinkin about anything until 10 tomorrow, yeah?”

“Ok,” you say. 

He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, where you finally fall asleep in a tangle of limbs.

You might not be ok right now, but you will be. You’ll both be alright.

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

The Babysitter- Day 7

Summary: All you want for your last day with your bodyguard is a quiet day at home, good luck with that.

Theif!Reader x The Red Hood

3.1k

Warnings: SMUT18+, public sex, swearing, choking, teasing, angry fights, canon typical violence.

Day 6

“What are we going to do today?” You ask, rolling onto your side so you can look Jason in the eye. Jason, the name has been swirling around in your head since you learned it and now you don't think you'll ever forget it or the man it belongs to.

“What do you wanna do?” His hand creeps up the small of your back bringing up close to him, “we could order in, stay here all day.”

“We could but I think I should make a thank you gift for Harley.”

“Why?”

“This is kind of her fault.”

“She paid me, if anything I should get a gift.”

“Well, how about I make some cookies and we save some for her and you can eat most of them.”

“I thought you could only make eggs,” he jokes, groaning as he hears the familiar chords of his ringtone, “Hold that thought,” he groans even louder reaching over you and staring at his screen, “Fuck, what do these idiots want?” Jason sits up, his arm pulling you onto his chest as he does, “couldn’t they just let me have one more day?”

“Don’t know about you, but I’ve never been lucky.” you joke, pulling the blankets up tightly over you.

“What is it Jamie? I told you not to bother me.”

“Sorry Boss, just that we got word of the Penguin doing a trade in the zoo and-”

“It's today.”

“I sent Scarlett and Loxley to check it out 2 hours ago and I ain't heard from them.”

“Shit. Leave it with me.”

“Problem?”

“Yeah, trouble maker. I gotta go,” Jason grumbles, reluctantly pulling away from you and climbing from your bed.

“Go?” you follow him, shivering as the morning air hits your naked body, “Where are we going?”

“We are not going anywhere. I am going,” he starts to search the ground for his armor, pulling on his pants when he finds them, “You’re going to stay here.”

“I don’t think I am,” you dig through your drawers pulling out a black pair of leggings, “You said it yourself, I get into too much trouble when I’m alone, so I have to come with you.”

“This is going to be dangerous,” he pauses as he pulls his shirt over his head, “You're staying here.”

“Even more reason for me to come.”

“Trouble maker,” he levels his eyes at you, “Don’t make me restrain you.”

“I won’t, just let me come.”

“Do you promise to do as you're told?”

“I want to say yes, but-”

“That would be a lie.”

“Yeah, how about I promise not to needlessly get myself into danger?”

“Ok fine, but hurry up. We’re leaving in 2 minutes, we gotta get to the aquarium.”

Xx

“Why do I have to wear this?” you ask, tugging on the annoying domino mask that he made you wear. Not only was it too big, but the whiteout eyes made it kind of weird to see.

“Incase someone recognises you.” Jason says like it's obvious, he doesn't want you to be in danger because he brought you into his business. His brain starts to whirl with what's going to happen to you tomorrow after he leaves you, if he leaves you. He has to leave you, this deal was only for the week and he can't abandon his business for longer. Jason wonders what you’ll do, if you’ll remember him or if you'll just get on with your chaotic little life without him, maybe find a nice henchman and leave Gotham.

“Jason, no one in the history of my life has ever recognised me. I’m barely a blip on anyone's radar.”

“I don't believe that's true,” he pulls you in close, his fingers grazing along his mask on your face, “You’re unforgettable,” leaning his shiny helmet into your forehead the cold sending a tingle down your spine, “You ready to go in?”

“I am. Let's go get your boys.”

“And you are-”

“Not going to endanger myself for no reason.”

“Good girl,” he gives you a tight hug, before leading you into the depths of the aquarium.

Xx

“OO a shark,” you whisper as a reef shark swims over your head, the tiny little colourful fishes swimming all around you, the dim blue lights and the sunlight filtering through the open tanks as you walk deeper and deeper inside.

“We’re getting close,” he whispers in return, his hand falling to the gun at his hip, “I know it's hard for you, but try to be quiet.” 

You nod, zipping your lips and locking them with an imaginary key. You give his hand a gentle squeeze as you notice a shadow down the path and you start to hear voices. You shoot a finger out, pointing them out to Jason, but he grabs your hand pulling it back and pressing you into the glass wall.

“Stay here,” his voice harsh and threatening, but his brain’s full of worry. He knows what these men are like, what they do to people who oppose them and worse he knows how that disgusting bird brain treats his prisoners, “You hear me, Trouble Maker?” you nod again, thankful that he forced you to silence, fuck its so much easier to lie when you dont have to talk.

He stalks off, his hands close to his guns as he heads down the left side of the path. He melts into the shadows as he walks, a skill he probably learned from the bat you imagine. His ass so full in those tight ass pants he wears and with the swagger of a man about to go on a rampage, jesus you want to fuck him so badly right now. 

Instead, you pull a gun from under your shirt. He didn't see it or he didn't want to or he was happy you brought something to protect yourself. But really, that was just for show. The real weapon was in your pocket, just a snippet of it. One tiny leaf wrapped in a zip lock bag. It was all the weapon you need. 

Slowly you creep down the right side of the hall, the gunfire already echoing through the glass building. There's no water at your feet so he hasn't hit the glass yet, which means he's interrogating them. His men must be in a different room. You sink onto your tiptoes, crouching behind a desk, a chair and slinking through the shadow when you hear his voice, “Where are my men?” he shouts at them, “tell me where they are and you’ll walk out of there.” and he thinks you're a bad liar, anyone could tell that was a lie. You almost swear as you stumble a bit over the rubbish on the ground, not no rubbish, files. Rolling them up you stick them into the back of your leggings, you can look at them later. For now you need to find Jason's men, they have to be here somewhere. 

You push yourself closer to the wall as more men rush into the room, not noticing you at all as they start to rush the Red Hood.

When the wave of men have all entered the room, you slink down the corridor from which they came. Several doors line the hallway, shit. Which one? You try to think over the violent noise coming from the other room, when you hear a thud behind the second door.

Locked. Fuck, reaching into your boot you pull out your lockpicks and within seconds you’ve got the door open. The men inside stare up at you confused, their bound hands and gagged mouths mumbling something. You pull the gag from the one with the dark hair, “Behind ye lass,” you spin around and see a man dressed in a suit, far from the thugs you saw in the other room. Your pin still in your hand you stick it in the man's throat, his blood bursting out from the hole and covering you, like you're stuck in some bloody anime. When he falls to the floor you grab Jason’s men's bindings quickly untying them, “You wit da boss, lass?” the man winks before helping his friend to his feet, “Names Scarlett,” 

You nod, gesturing them to follow you as you head back down to where Red was. You stop them at the corner, peeking around to see Red surrounded by bodies and covered in blood. Fuck, why is that such a sexy look on him? 

He’s so focused on keeping the men from the corridor he thinks you’re in, that he doesn't see you, doesn't see his men until you're screaming his name and firing a shot right beside his head. Jason doesnt even realise what you’ve done until he feels the body fall down beside him. 

“Red, Run!” you shout at him, throwing your baggie at the crowd of bodies on the ground. 

Jason sees you grab Scarlett's hand, something new digs into his heart, his eyes fixed on where you’re dragging both men behind you. You’re covered in blood, why are you covered in blood? Are you hurt? What was in that bag? How did you find his men? 

“I told you to stay put.” he snarls at you as you run past him grabbing his hand with your free one, “Scarlett,” he says equally as aggressively.

“Whos dis lass boss?” Scarlett asks as he picks up Loxley and throws him over his shoulder, “I like her.”

“Not yours, is Loxley ok?” Red puffs as you run, a large sound behind him makes him pick up the pace, as you race forward and out of the aquarium, followed by a mass of vines, the vines retreating as soon as they hit the sun.

Huffing, you lean against the walls of the aquarium, “Are you ok?” you ask Jason, reaching out to touch him only for him to flinch away from you.

“Blood,” Jason takes a deep breath, he can't do this right now. He needs to get the boys back to base. You’re not hurt and with that relief another emotion fills the worries void,“Forward.” He directs them, pushing the party towards their base. He slips his arm under Loxleys, helping Scarlet carry him. Jason doesn't look at you, he- it hurts, you didn't listen and now something happened. Something worse could have happened. He didn't- he can't- it's too much to deal with right now, so instead he focuses on his men and getting them to a doctor.

Xx 

“Are you ever going to talk to me again?” you ask as you sit on the rooftop as Jason walks out of The Red Hoods main hideout. The men down stairs being looked after by the shiftiest looking doctor you've met since Harley.

“Here,” he throws a set of clothes at you, “I can’t-”

“Cant what? Look at me?” you stand, dropping the clothes to the ground, “I'm not fucking sorry for what I did and I'd do it again. I saved those men and oh,” you pull the papers from your pants, “got you these too,” you throw them at his feet, “Don't know what they are but I'm sure the GCPD would be interested in seeing them.”

“Trouble maker,” Jason sighs, noticing how the blood on you is dry now, caked into your hair and into your clothes. Why can’t you just do what your fucking told? Why does everything have to be an argument?

“Fucking hell, just tell me what the problem is.” you shout, throwing the domino mask at him, “you think I give a shit if someone kills me? You think I'm worried about a little blood? I don’t know if you noticed Mr high and mighty but this broody, silent, macho act. It does fuck all for me, so why don’t you just tell me what the fuck is going on in that huge head of yours.”

“Stop,” he walks towards you, his eyes stare down at the ground while his hands reach out for you.

“Stop talking,” you step back, “stop walking head first into danger, stop trying to help” you stumble as you reach the banister on the roof, “What the fuck do you want me to do Jason? Just sit around and wait to die? Wait for you to leave me?”

“I don't like seeing you like this.”

“Like what? A mess? Because news flash, I've been this way forever!”

“No,” his eyes slowly rise, taking in the blood on your shoes, soaking your shirt, your hair and the tiny bruise on your arm. He reaches up to your face, grasping your chin when you try to turn away from him, “Angry at me and covered in blood.”

“Not-”

“Shut up,” he pinches your cheeks together, “can I talk for once?”

“Fine, but you've only got 12 more hours to punish me before-” his hand moves over your mouth, the other wrapping around your middle and stepping you back from the ledge.

“I thought-” he peers up at the bat signal in the sky before turning back to you, “I thought it was your blood, that something had happened to you. But you're capable, way more capable than I thought and I'm sorry for that. This death wish of yours, I- I just-" he shakes his head trying to align his thoughts, "That's not even the worst of it,” you try to mumble behind his hand but he just holds it tighter, “I don't- if they had killed you I don't know what I would've done, but I know it would've been bad. And I havent- I haven't felt like that in a very long time.” he releases your mouth.

“I didn't mean to worry you. But like you said I'M capable. I can look after myself Jason.”

“Yeh but like you said, I still got 12 hours left to punish you.” he smirks down at you, “not only for not listening,” he pushes you down on the bannister, “But for all those curse words you just threw at me,” he towers over you, making you lean so far back that your head is almost dangling off the side of the building, “You going to be a good girl and take your punishment?”

“Yes.” your mind starts to swirl as the blood rushes to your head and Jason's huge hand slaps onto your pussy, “Shit.” you pant, as he does it again, “Not- you’re.”

“No, I’m not counting,” he grabs hold of your throat to keep you steady, “You can take it, cant you?”

“I will.”

“Good girl, then take it.” he orders, continuing his slapping, his eyes watching you intently. That fucking blood still on your pretty face, he wants to rub it off almost as much as he wants to slap the asshole smirk from it. He sees your leg tightening, your head bobbing like you want to sit up and look at him. But you haven't earned it, you frightened the shit out of him and this is the only way he knows how to drill the lesson into your chaotic little head, “You going to cum, Trouble Maker?”

“Ah huh.” your legs flail and your throat constricts under his hand, your wheezing only seeming to egg Jason on.

“Go on then-” he stops his movements releasing you from his hold and leaving you hanging over the side of his warehouse, “-Cum.” he laughs at you, your hands fisting at your sides as you slide down onto the ground, “Is it really that hard to listen to me?” Jason's hand grabs at your hair, pulling you to your feet, “I told you to cum,”

“Yeah, I get it. If I don't listen, I don't get -fuck you-" you glare at him when he laughs at you again, "what I want.”

“You still swearing at me, you little brat?” he yanks on your hair, exposing your neck to him, “While you're covered in someone else's blood, you really have no self preservation instincts do you?”

“Does that frighten you?” yes, yes it does. It frightened the shit out of him. But instead of answering he picks you up, throwing you over his huge shoulder, slapping you on the ass and he starts to walk, “Where are we going?” you ask, poking your fingers into his squishy but, “you’re ass looks great from this angle, just so you know,” you slap him and that earns you another, “This your kind of torture just throwing me around and slapping me?”

“Is it working?”

“It’s working me up, if that was the plan then yes.”

“Good girl. Is that-”

“Rain.” you smile up at the sky, the tiny droplets of water falling into your eyes.

“That'll do,” Jason drags you from his shoulder, setting you down on your feet in front of him. The rain splattering over your face, over his. He wipes the droplets from his eyes before moving his hand to your face and wiping the now wet blood from your face, “Much better.” He smiles leaning down, his thumb brushes the blood from your lips, “The only thing I wanna taste is you, Trouble Maker.” slowly he peels your soaking clothes from you, the rain falling down your body like little droplets of ice sending shivers all over you. His hand cups your jaw bringing your face up to his, “I had planned on torturing you some more,” his fingers peel his jacket from his shoulders before throwing it on the bare concrete, “But fuck,” he picks you up his strong hand on your ass as he lowers you slowly onto his jacket, “How can I deny you when you look at me like that?” 

“Sofite and so close to your men,” you tease him, trying to wrap your legs over his thick thighs.

“Don’t mock me when I'm feeling generous, Trouble Maker,” he threatens, the head of his cock just teasing at your pussy, “Or do you not want it?” he leans back, laughing when you try to chase him only to hit the cold concrete, “I can wrap you up and take you home, is that what you want?”

“NO,” your arms extend out to him, trying to pull him back, “Please Jason, don't leave me like this.”

“So pretty when you beg,” his body covers yours, blocking the rain from you as he slowly fucks into you, both of you letting out little moans as you press together. His hand slides down your thigh lifting it up to his hip so he can plunge deeper into you, “Take my cock so well, my little trouble maker,” his fingers dig into your cheeks holding your face so close that you can feel his reggae breathing in your mouth, “so fucking beautiful.”

“Jason, fuck.” you pant, arching up so that his soft tummy grazes over your clit, your legs tightening around him, “Jason I'm going to cum, please let me cum,”

“No.”

“Why, please, please I want it so bad.”

“You want to listen to me don’t you? To be good?”

“Yes.”

“Then be good and hold it in.”

“Fuck, how- when you- like that Jason?”

“Baby,” he rests his forehead on top of yours, his eyes boring into yours, “say my name again.”

“Jason, fuck I’m- fuck - so full of you.”

“Sounds so good when you say it.”

“Right there, Jason. Please, more, Jason.”

“Fuck, you’re clenching down so hard on me,” he smiles at you, his teeth nipping at your lips, “You need it don’t you.”

“I need you.”

“Only I can make you feel like this.”

“Yes, so full,” you scream as you orgasm creeps over the crest, “Jason I-”

“Fuck, me too.”

“Give it to me, please Jason. I want it,” you beg, your eyes pleading with him as he pounds into you. His lips meeting yours with so much fire it almost burns the rain away, “Yes, like-” you moan into his kiss as your orgasm washes over you, your pussy gripping his cock so tight that there's no way he could pull out, it convulses milking his cum from him and painting your guts in a warmth that seems to fill your soul as much as your sopping pussy. 

Jason slows down, his cock just grinding inside of you as you lay in the rain. He stops you when you try to move, keeping you held down beneath him, “I’m not done being inside you yet, Trouble Maker.”

“We’re going to get colds out here.” you joke, trying to discern the way he's staring at you right now. Like something is going on in his brain that you can't quite see.

“I just need a minute,” his hand holds your face, keeping your eyes on him, “I wanna memorize your pretty face.”

“Why would you need to- you’re going to disappear aren't you?” you sigh, turning your head from him, “just go now Jason. I- I cant stand watching people leave.”

“Trouble maker,” he pulls out from you, sitting up on his legs and pulling his jacket around you, “look at me please.”

“No. If you’re leaving, just go.”

“This is my place, why would I leave?” he laughs, standing up and offering you his hand. You stand and as he expected all the wind is right where it belongs in your sails. You tighten his jacket around you, glaring at him with the fury of 1000 suns and fuck its adorable. Why are you so cute when you’re mad? Especially now that he can really see your face, fuck now he definitely wants to bend you over the railing.

“Fuck you!” you stomp, your hair sopping wet and hitting you in the face when you thrash your head around looking for the direction of the door.

“Doors to your left,” he teases.

“I can find the door.” You start to stomp to your left, shivering in Jason's jacket and inhaling his wondrous scent. Fucking prick, just going to let you leave and shiver to death. When you’re almost at the door you feel a strong hand wrap around your arm and drag you back, “You wanted me to leave Jason, I'm going.”

“I was just playing Trouble Maker,” his hand slips under your chin, tilting your head up to his, “Not nice when people fuck with you is it?”

“This your way of telling me you care?”

“Is it enough for you?”

“For now. Maybe for later you can get me something shiny.”

“Later?” 

“Yeah, unless you are going to disappear tomorrow when your deal with Harls is done. In which case, I will continue to angrily stomp away”

“No, your brand of chaos is like heroin to me,” he picks you up and you wrap your legs around him as he walks you towards the door, “and I’ve always had an addictive personality.”

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