#sleeping with Jamie if that’s what you’re worried about

[jamietwat]

[moonstruckme]

Hiiiii!!!! So, if you wanna write something, can you do poly marauders find out reader sleeps with like an almost concerning amount of plushies??? I literally sleep on a few plushies so I think it would be cute lol

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’ve been pouting all evening, ever since the boys had decided to watch a new comedy film over one of your chickflicks. You’re ganging up on me, you’d complained, and James felt a twinge of guilt but Sirius had only laughed. You’re damn right we are, sweetheart, because we watched that one just last week! You’d gone silent after that, but you’ve seemed vaguely sulky ever since, even when James brought you popcorn and tried to snuggle up with you under the blanket. 

“I’m gonna go to bed,” you say abruptly, standing and gathering your blanket about you. 

“Already?” James asks. “The movie’s only got like, twenty more minutes in it.” 

“That’s okay,” you yawn, stooping to give him a hug and kiss. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, dovey,” Remus says as you kiss him too, then Sirius. “Sleep well.” 

James watches you go, unease growing like a fungus in his chest as you go into your room instead of one of theirs, the door shutting definitively behind you. 

“Prongs, hey.” He turns to find Remus looking at him, his brows scrunching just softly upwards. “Don’t worry about it, love, she’s alright.” 

“I know it’s silly,” he says, casting another glance down the hall, “but she just seemed so put out. And then she went to her own room.” 

“She doesn’t always want to sleep in ours.” Sirius shrugs. “Disappointing, but it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.” 

It’s true; you only sleep in one of your boyfriends’ rooms maybe half of the time, but this has always been a point of confusion for James. He and the other boys shuffle between rooms every night, and when you join them you seem to enjoy it as much as the rest of them do. Plus, it’s no secret that you love cuddles above all else, so why deprive yourself of them on such a regular basis?

James stands. “I’m gonna go check on her.”

“Suit yourself,” Sirius says, and Remus only nods, attention going back to the film. 

James sees blue light coming from underneath your door as he approaches, confirming his suspicion that you weren’t really tired enough to sleep when you’d left. He knocks softly. “Sweetheart? Can I come in?”

You don’t reply, and he hesitates briefly before cracking the door. For a moment, he wonders if you’re in here at all. He certainly can’t find you. The entire room is awash in blue light, your laptop screen on full brightness as the intro to the movie you’d wanted to watch earlier plays silently. Where you should be on your bed is instead half a million stuffed animals. Piles of them, from your headboard to the end of the bed, with little faces lit by the screen like they’re watching the movie, too. 

James draws closer, noticing your headphones plugged into the laptop, and follows the chord until he finds you, nestled so deeply in plushies that only your face is visible. He takes a second to relish the sight before waving a hand in front of the screen to get your attention. You startle, the movement sending a plushie tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. You lunge for it, disrupting even more of the toys, and James has to dam the avalanche with both hands, passing you the fallen stuffed animal—A penguin, he thinks to himself. How cute—while you take off your headphones. 

“Fuck, you scared me,” you say breathlessly, and James guffaws, hysterical laugher bubbling out of his chest. “What?”

“Just,” he marvels, shaking his head, “it’s surprising to hear that kind of language coming from someone absolutely buried in cuteness right now.” 

You sink further into the pile, and if the lighting weren’t so blue at the moment, he suspects your face would appear redder. 

“Jamie,” you say, quietly, hurriedly. “Jamie, don’t tell. Please?”

He’s just starting to wonder whether he’s even capable of keeping a secret as good as this when two pairs of footsteps start down the hallway. 

“What’s going on?” Sirius’ voice calls, a second before Remus flicks on the light and both boys go silent. James giggles, bringing his hand to his mouth in an attempt to smother the sound. Your face is indeed as flushed as he’d imagined, and you burrow further into your squishy fortress as if you could disappear into it entirely. 

“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding positively delighted, “where have you been hiding all of this?”

“I haven’t been hiding them.” Your voice is muffled by stuffing. “They just stay in my closet during the day. So my room doesn’t look cluttered.” 

“But why?” Sirius makes his way over to you, picking up a fox by your head. “This little guy is so charming. You’d deprive us of him?”

Despite Sirius’ honey-coated tone, you know what he’s about, and your eyes narrow defensively. 

“Dove,” Remus says slowly, fighting to keep his expression under control as his eyes glitter with amusement. “This is the most adorable thing I think I’ve ever seen.” 

You don’t look inclined to make a response, so James speaks again. 

“Is this why you don’t always want to sleep with us?” he asks, doing his best to gentle the teasing in his voice. “Because these guys are welcome in my room anytime if it means I get to be with you too.” 

You make your eyes big and sad in that way James swears you have to practice in the mirror. “Really? You don’t think it’s embarrassing?” 

James is finally free to unleash the full capacity of his smile. “Of course not, angel.”

“Well, maybe, like, a dozen of them,” Sirius says. “With more than one person, I think they’d all end up falling off the bed.” 

You look horrified. “I feel so guilty when that happens.” 

Remus makes a sound that’s half laugh, half coo. “Darling, you’re going to kill me with all this.” He gives you a look so syrupy sweet James feels his heart go all soft and mushy. “Please come finish the movie with us so I can give you a proper cuddle?”

“And bring some of your friends,” Sirius adds as you start to extricate yourself from the jumble on your bed. “Fuck, I’m never gonna get over this.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

the thought of just really domestic Sundays with James make me weak in the knees. like having a lie in then getting up to go and get breakfast and some shopping. then just coming home, both of you cleaning together and cooking before having a nap 🫠🫠

It’s almost eleven in the morning and your eyes are only just blinking open.

It had been a long Saturday, full of cleaning and doing grocery runs and it had taken a lot out of you both.

James groans as he stretches, arms reaching for you soon after. “G’morning, angel.”

His voice is scratchy, lips smushed to your cheeks as he speaks. “How’d you sleep?”

How he knows you’re awake every single morning is beyond you. You could just twitch awake and James is up too, point five seconds later, ready to talk about whatever it was that woke you up.

“Good,” you curl into him, stretching a little making your elbows pop.

“Hey,” James mumbles, hand reaching to rub your joints. “Are they all achy?” Your knees and elbows seem to always be aching after days of hard work and James is always worried about them hurting.

“A little,” you kiss the corner of his mouth, hoping to distract him.

His hand combs down your back, squeezing at your hips and waist as they go. “What do you feel like for breakfast?”

You pretend to think and James pretends to be shocked when you say, “Porridge.”

He nods, kissing your forehead before rolling out of bed. “Meet me in the kitchen, angel.”

James is quick doing his morning routine and then getting to the kitchen, setting a pot on the stove and getting started on porridge the way you like.

By the time you get downstairs, James is setting the bowl on the kitchen island- porridge with honey, banana coins, a bit of yogurt and a handful of melon in a bowl on the side.

He slides his own bowl beside it, full of more berries than anything else and a bigger scoop of yogurt.

“Thanks Jamie,” you make your coffees and sit to eat with him. “What do you want to do today?” You lean your head on his shoulder as you chew.

“Not a thing, if I’m honest baby.” You chuckle and feel James perk up because of it.

“Movie day?” You suggest and he nods, resting his head on top of yours.

“We can finally put on that fantasy film you wanted to look at.” You nod, a yawn ripping through you.

“I’ll make the good popcorn after we shower.”

[froggibus]

Mask Off - Stu Macher! Ghostface

Pairing: Stu Macher! Ghostface x f! reader

Genre: smut/NSFW (w a sprinkle of hurt/comfort cause, cmon guys, it’s me)

Word Count: 2k

Summary: at a party at Stu’s, the last thing you’re expecting is for the masked killer to save you from the man who tried to assault you, or for him to take his turn right after

CW: SA, murder, blood, knives, violence, standard Ghostface stuff, breath play, knife play, unprotected sex (make good choices), creampie, blood kink?, hints of a mask kink, degradation, lots of dirty talk, reader is referred to as a slut/whore, they fuck next to a dead body, established relationship, soft! Stu, Ghostface reveal

guys I just watched Scream 6 and I am so soft for Stu rn idek why. i usually don’t write stuff like this but the Scream movies are some of my favorites (def not cause me and the final girl have the same name…definitely not) and I’ve had HARD ghostface brain rot lately so…here’s this lol

————

Sitting on the living room floor of your boyfriend’s house, half drunk and watching movies, everything feels right. Sure, there’s a psycho killer on the loose, and everyone in the house is technically breaking curfew, but you couldn’t care less. Even with Randy geeking out over the Jamie Lee horror movie playing on the tv, you can’t complain. 

The guy next to you on the floor, a couple more beers in than you are, shuffles closer. You side eye him, but don’t say anything. You find yourself looking for Stu—you know how jealous he can get. But your boyfriend is nowhere to be found. 

You take a deep breath and another chug of your beer, hoping to calm the nerves that have found their way into your stomach. You don’t like the idea of your boyfriend being MIA when there’s a killer around. 

Your nerves are shoved away when you feel a warm hand on your thigh. You turn to the guy next to you, who gives you a nod and a smirk. 

He must be an idiot, or not well versed in the politics of Woodsboro Seniors, or else he would know that he’s in your boyfriend's house, trying to feel you up. You roll your eyes, finish chugging your drink, and head upstairs to try to find your boyfriend. 

You don’t even hear the guy get up behind you. 

You duck into Stu’s room, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Not wanting to go back downstairs, you fall backwards onto his bed and relax into the sheets. They smell like him, and the scent is so comforting, it’s almost enough to put you to sleep. 

Almost. 

The door opens and you sit up instantly, expecting to find your boyfriend but disappointed to see the guy from earlier. 

“What do you want?” You squint at him. 

“You disappeared on me, baby.”

“Look, I don’t even know who you are, and clearly you don’t know me, or else you would know that this is my boyfriend’s house. And believe me when I say he’s the jealous type.”

He sits down on the bed, and you shuffle to the other side, drawing your knees to your chest. He seems to take that as a challenge, smirking even wider. 

“Your boyfriend never needs to know.”

“Get lost, dude.”

He’s on you in an instant, lips pressing against yours, body on top of yours. You shove him hard, but that only makes him lean in more. He’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger. The reality of your situation starts to set in, and you drive a knee into his groin. 

He groans, pulling back and slapping you hard. He squeezes your face, eyes angry. “Listen, slut, hit me again and the killer on the loose is the last thing you have to worry about. Do you understand?”

You go to bite his finger but he clamped his hand over your mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 

He presses his hand down hard enough to keep you quiet, trailing his hand up your stomach. You squirm as his hand gets to your chest, still trying to deter him. 

Just as he slips his hand up your shirt, you see the cloaked figure behind him. You let out a gasp that he takes as you enjoying what he’s doing. 

You think it’s a prank, that someone is just trying to scare the people hooking up at the party. But the mask…the cloak…it’s all too real. And then you see the glint of silver and your blood runs cold. 

You want to scream and run away, but at the same time, you want the man on top of you to suffer. You want to hear the knife sink into him and you want to see his blood come pouring out. And with the way he’s touching you, you would rather die than have to tell Stu what happened. 

Not that he wouldn’t understand, but because you’re sure things would never be the same. 

The guy doesn’t even notice the figure approaching, doesn’t even notice the way you’re almost crying into his palm. The figure, that the news has dubbed Ghostface, tilts his head at you. 

You should be scared, you should be running, but you aren’t. Something about him, something about the way he’s looking at you, makes you feel almost safe. At least, safer than the guy currently forcing himself on you. 

He pulls his arm back, revealing the sharpened knife once more, before driving it into the back of the man on top of you. He spasms, blood dripping out of his mouth and down your neck. 

Ghostface doesn’t let up, though. He drives the knife in and out of him, penetrating his skin over and over and over. The sound of sharp metal against soft skin fills your ears, and warm blood covers you. 

Finally, the man goes limp, and Ghostface practically throws him off of the bed. He crawls on top of you, replacing the dead man. His body is warm on yours, and he smells like blood and an almost familiar cologne. 

He slides the flat end of the blade across your cheek, down your jaw and onto your throat. You suck in a breath, trying not to let your fear show. You can hear his breathing through the mask, and the feeling of the cold metal on your skin sends waves of arousal through you. 

You should probably consult a therapist on that, given you survive. 

He pulls the knife away from you, tucking it into his waistband. You squint. Isn’t he going to kill you? 

He lifts up his hands, and for a second you think he’s going to strangle you. But no, he does something that surprises you even more. He removes the mask. 

You gasp, covering your mouth in shock. You’re not sure who you were expecting, but it wasn’t your boyfriend. 

He tilts his head at you, giving you a lopsided grin. “Sorry, baby. I lost my temper.”

You nod slowly, the idea that Stu is the Ghostface killer not quite registering in your mind. He wipes blood off of your face, licking it off of his fingers. Something about the action is so erotic that it has you clenching your thighs. 

“I-I’m sorry,” your voice comes out strained. You’re not even sure what you’re apologizing for—for the guy who assaulted you or for your shock or for seeing him without his mask. 

He pushes the hair out of your face. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. You take a shaky breath, your heart pounding and your clit throbbing. 

His hand moves from your hair to your neck, squeezing gently. Stu was always fascinated with stuff like that—pain and breath play and knives. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t fascinate you, too. 

He kisses you, lips hungrily devouring yours. You can taste blood, but you’re not sure if it’s from his face or yours. His hand slides down your waist, bunching up the fabric of your t-shirt and sliding his hand under it. 

“Are you scared?” There’s a smirk on his lips, something dark in his eyes. 

“A little,” you admit. 

“Of me?”

“Not of you. Never of you.”

He just killed a man in front of you—on top of you—but you’ve never felt more safe. And that’s what scares you. Your own desires, your own fucked up thoughts and feelings. 

“You know I’d never let anything hurt you,” he taps his fingers on your throat. “I would never hurt you. You’re mine, and mine alone.”

You tug him to you by the collar of his cloak, shoving your lips against his. He smiles against you, tightening his grip on your throat. Not enough to hurt, just enough so that you can feel the pressure. 

He slides his hand into your pants, laughing at how wet your panties are. He rubs your clit through the fabric, moving his lips to suck and bite at your neck. 

“D’you want me, baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Please.”

He’s ripping your panties off and tugging his boxers down in an instant, pulling up his cloak just enough so that he has easy access. He rubs the head of his cock through your folds, gathering up your slick. He kisses you deeply just as he sinks his cock inside of you. 

You never get used to the stretch, the delicious feeling of him moulding your walls to the shape of his cock. 

He pulls out and thrusts back in, his cock going even deeper. You whine, throwing your head back. He laughs at your moans and keeps going, shoving into you at a brutal pace. You cry out in response, the moans falling out before you can stop them. 

His hand clamps over your mouth. “Shh, be quiet. Do you really want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me? Do you want someone to walk in on you fucking the killer like a whore?”

His words only make you wetter, pussy clenching tighter around him. It only eggs him on more, his thrusts becoming harder and more forceful as he nears his high. 

“Mm, I forgot you like being my slut,” he laughs in your ear, gasping whenever you clench around him. “Fucking me in the bed of the guy I just killed for you?”

You hate how much his words turn you on, hate how they only push you further towards your climax. You dig your nails into his shoulders, bunching up the black fabric. 

He slams harder into you and you know he’s close. You wrap your arms around him, tugging him in closer. He thrust a few more times, movements sloppier, before his cock twitches and you’re filled with hot cum. 

The feeling of his cum pooling inside of you is enough to send you over the edge, leaving you a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him. 

He kisses your forehead, holding you closer to him. “As sexy as you look covered in blood, you should probably change.”

“What are you gonna do?”

He plants a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, ‘kay?”

You nod, rolling out of his arms and standing up on shaky legs. You’re covered in bed, your clothes absolutely soaked through. You head straight for the bathroom, soaking a cloth to wipe the blood from your skin. 

“Y/n,” he knocks gently, “I left some of my clothes out here for you to change into. Go through the window and head through the basement door—I don’t want you getting caught up in this.”

You change into his clothes, trying to ignore the light bruises on your throat and thighs. You love how his clothes fit on you, though. You love being claimed by him. 

You do as he says, sneaking through the basement door and pretending like you were just bringing up another case of beer. 

Randy turns his head to look at you, and for a minute you think that you’re caught. He’s going to say something about your disappearance and change of clothes. 

Instead, he just shakes his head at you. “Where’ve you been? You missed Basic Instinct!”

An arm wraps around your shoulder, the familiar cream coloured sweater draping over you. “She was just helping me get more beer,” Stu shrugs. 

Randy makes a face, but says nothing. He turns back to the tv, and Stu takes that as an opportunity to kiss your neck. “Just so you know,” his voice is barely a whisper in your ear, “I’m keeping the mask on next time.”

[its-time-to-write]

for anyone else who needs comfort in the form of a sick fic. but written specially for @coloursofyen🩵

there for you

Jamie’s alarm goes off at precisely 3:26am, which is what he says is the optimal time to wake up for training with Roy. He rolls over and feels for your warm body on the other side of the bed, frowning when he feels nothing but the cold covers next to him. You’ve been out of bed for a while, then.

He sits up, and as he wipes the sleep from his eyes he notices a light coming from the en suite. Jamie hops out of bed and taps on the door.

“Babe? You alright?” he asks.

He’s met by a retching sound so he pushes open the door to find you kneeling in front of the toilet. Sweat makes strands of hair stick to your face, and your face is unnaturally pale. You blink blearily at him as he sits against the doorframe.

“I think I have a stomach bug,” you croak.

Jamie’s unable to stop a grin. “What makes you think that?”

You’re too tired and nauseous to flip him off. You’ve been awake for more than an hour, thinking first it might be something you ate. 

Then you remembered one of your coworkers called out sick earlier in the week, followed by your supervisor two days later. Seems like it’s your turn now.

You manage to get out, “It’s going around the office,” before turning your face back to the bowl.

Jamie makes a sympathetic face and moves to rub your back.

“I’m gonna get you some water, babe. You want anything else? Crackers? Toast? I think we have shit for soup later today, if you think you can keep it down,” he says.

“Roy,” you say, sticking to easy words.

Jamie gently pats your back. “Nah, don’t worry about him. He’ll be glad to have the morning off.”

“You have a match on Sunday,” you remind him. “You can’t catch this.”

Jamie disregards this and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “The lads’ll be fine without me. Give some second-teamer a chance to be on the pitch. Besides, it’s against Bournemouth.”

You make a face. Bournemouth is at the bottom of the league, and at the moment a match against them is essentially free points.

“It feels awful,” you rasp.

Jamie readjusts his position on the floor. “Babe, I’m a fucking… specimen. I’m like, so fucking healthy that viruses bounce right off me. I’m not gonna catch it.”

You shake your head and retch again. That’s what you had thought.

“Let me text Coach,” Jamie says. “I’ll sit here as longs as you need, or I can grab a bowl so you can go back to bed. Actually, let’s go to the guest room while I change the sheets in here, yeah? All hygienic, like. I can make mum’s special soup, think we’ve got everything for it. Can order it if not. Just don’t worry about it, alright? Your body’s a temple, or whatever fucking Lasso says.”

You crack a half-smile at that. For as much as Jamie loves football, he loves you more. Only slightly more, but you’ll take it. 

He says, “Come on, up you get,” and half-lifts you to a standing position. Once you’re settled in the guest bed with the tv on and a lime soda, he heads downstairs to figure out what you might be able to eat. He ends up bringing you toast, a banana, and a sleeve of crackers, then getting into bed next to you.

“Sheets are in the wash,” he says. 

“Don’t get too close to me,” you warn. “You’re going to catch this fucking bug.”

“Won’t,” he responds smugly.

“Will,” you argue.

“Won’t,” he repeats with such confidence that you wish Roy were still coming over to smack him down a little bit.

Will, you silently mouth.

—

That fucker doesn’t even get so much as a sneeze.

[danistartt]

Homesick- Jamie Tartt

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, roy kent, ted lasso warnings: none. ithink other than language about: request!! jamie tartt is homesick

Jamie has rarely been hesitant to leave for a game.

But there’s something sick at the pit of his stomach when he has to say goodbye to you today, even when you assure him that it’s for so, so little time that it won’t matter. That he won’t miss you with all the excitement of a match. You set your palms against his cheeks and urge his attention to you, tired determination widening your droopy eyes when you tell him that you’re proud of him, sadness angling your features as you apologize for not being able to be there in person to cheer him on.

He smiles and thinks that he believes you.

There’s a painful tug at his heart when he has to leave for real this time, treasuring the warm line your marriage finger grazes along the lobe of his ear. He kisses you, opening his eyes too soon when he pulls away and catching a glimpse of you at your sweetest: still half-submerged in his affection, face softer than he’s seen it.

You are raw in the morning, still a little rumpled from your bed and an inch away from sleep. You got up early for him today. Let your forehead bounce against the passenger window so you could say your farewells face-to-face. He doesn’t think he’s ever had a person care about him like that. Sacrifice even the little things with great pleasure because it’s him.

“You guys’re gonna do great,” you murmur, arms tight around his neck. You squeeze once more before pulling back, giving him a happy, sleepy smile that he takes with him. “I’ll have a celebration ready when you lot get back.”

“Can’t wait,” he tells you with a cheeky wink, watching the amusement in your eyes wake a little bit more.

“Roy’s giving me the stink eye.”

“That’s just how he looks, babe,” he defends. “‘Nd if he’s lookin’ at anyone, it’s me.”

“No,” you say. “He likes you now, Jamie.” The way you say his name is so lovely. All curved and soft and smooth with love. You stifle a yawn and pull him in again. “I’ll see you soon. Behave, okay? I promise I’ll be watching the game on the telly.”

“I always do,” he defends.

“Roy’ll tell me,” you remind playfully. “I think he might write complaints down when you get a little too cocky.”

“I promise,” he gives in.

“You’re going to do amazing,” you tell him again, fully believing it.

“You know it.” He pecks the skin below your eye, finally walking toward the bus.

Roy grunts at you in greeting once Jamie’s gone inside, arms crossed in front of his chest. Ted yells a hello. Beard nods. You wave, continuing to stand in the parking lot until the bus is gone.

-

Jamie worries he’s ill an hour before the game.

You’re busy with the seminar you couldn’t miss and he doesn’t want to tell anybody, but he doesn’t have to with the team he has.

“Jamie, wanna come on over and have a chat?” Ted asks him, smiling.

Jamie shrugs, feeling like lead weighs him down when he stands.

Ted leads him into a hallway and rocks on his heels expectantly. “Y’wanna tell me what’s wrong, or do you want me to guess?”

Jamie scrubs a rough hand down his face. “I dunno, coach.” Ted furrows his brows. “I’ve never…” He sighs frustratedly. “I dunno what it is.”

“Do you not feel well?”

“I feel off.” Jamie shrugs, frustrated. “Like I forgot to do something. I’m all tingly and shit.”

Ted hums. “You a little homesick? I felt a helluva lot like that the first few months I came here. Still feel it when I get into a car on the wrong side.”

“I’ve never missed it before. What’s there to miss? I’ve a bed at me hotel. I like leavin’ and seein’ all the sights.”

Ted scratches his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe you don’t miss your house, Jamie.”

Jamie shakes his head in confusion. “I’m sorry, coach, what?”

“Home ain’t always a building, Jamie,” Ted explains, squeezing his shoulder before heading back inside the locker room.

Jamie stands, perplexed. “The fuck?”

“He’s fucking sayin’ you miss Y/N,” Roy barks out of nowhere. “You’ve never been at a game away from her. You miss her,” he explains. “It happens.”

“Why didn’t he just say that, then?” Jamie complains.

“Substance. Too obvious,” Roy shrugs. “Call her. Stop being fuckin’ ‘tingly,’ Tartt.”

Jamie is left alone once again, processing.

Ted called him homesick, which Jamie opposes. He couldn’t care less about the place where he lived. Everything in it was chosen by another person years ago, and the space is bland otherwise, with only one framed picture of the both of you hanging up on the living room wall.

Still, he damn well yearned to be back among his stupid, minimalistic furniture and monochromatic aesthetic. Why?

Roy said it was you and Jamie is inclined to agree. When he pictures his living room with his dumb couch, you’re laying on it. Your trinkets and colorful items allay impersonal corners. You’re making a wonderful mess in his kitchen. You’re softening clinical sheet edges. You’re the only warm thing that decorates his walls.

He misses you. He’s homesick for you.

He hates it when Roy is right (but he’s getting used to it), especially when it’s concerning something Jamie didn’t expect, something unfamiliar.

His phone pings, lighting up with your contact picture and a text message asking how he is.

He’s never had a home to miss, he thinks. He’s a little happy to have one. He’s elated it’s you.

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen: Free

Plot: The morning after Y/n and Jamie’s heartbreaking talk, an unexpected savior shows up on Y/n’s door, leaving her at a crossroads.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, mention of child neglect/abuse, mention of sex

A/N: THIS IS IT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS THE CHAPTER. I’m so excited for you guys to read this one and have all your questions answered. I hope the payoff is as sweet as you’ve been expecting. Y’all have been so enthusiastic over the last few chapters, it really makes me smile. Enjoy!! ❤️💙💛

———————

Heartache could spread through the body just as easily as illness. Y/n’s head was fogged, her limbs hurt and she felt nauseous the second she opened her eyes.

Somehow she managed to call room service and order breakfast, plain toast and coffee, before falling back into bed. The clock read 10AM, she hasn’t slept that long in years. Then again, there wasn’t much sleep had.

The weight of Jamie’s confession weighed in her chest just as heavily as the moment he’d made it. She’d been up till some unholy hour, replaying the whole thing. His words, the quiver in his voice, his lips against her face…it reduced Y/n fits of tears, breaking her over and over.

There was no question as to whether she should skip the match or not. Not only did she have no desire to be around people, but she didn’t want to mess with Jamie’s head any more than she already had. She was worried enough she’d already cost him the game.

A rhythmic knock at her door signaled room service arriving. Y/n trudged across the room and opened the door, expecting to meet the waiter.

Instead, she got Ted, comically lifting the lid off the platter.

“Mornin’ sunshine!”

Y/n sighed, smiling as much as she could, which wasn’t very much.

Ted, however, found himself hilarious. “Room service fella was about to knock right as I was walkin’ by. Thought I’d have some fun with it.”

“Of course,” Y/n gestured to the room, “Come on in.”

Ted set the tray down on the table before turning back to Y/n, who was already moving to the other side of the room. There was a stiffness to her posture, as if she’d allowed a home invader in. Ted was well familiarized with her character, but he hadn’t seen her so reserved since she first started at Richmond.

“So what’s up?” Y/n asked, her tone devoid of any life.

“Oh, I just wanted to check up on you,” Ted shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets, “Haven’t seen ya in a while.”

“Yeah, things have been busy.”

“I bet,” Ted smiled, “You and Keeley must be kickin’ butt over there. The Dynamic Duo, but with gobs more style.”

Y/n chucked politely, playing with her hands out of nervousness.

Ted waited, watching as Y/n tried to dodge his line of vision. He didn’t expect an explanation to fly out of her mouth, but she was clearly on edge. His chances of waiting her out were decent.

“Well, we’re all glad you’re back,” Ted added, “Owner’s box has been lonely without you, I’ll bet.”

Y/n shut her eyes, it made the lying easier. “Yeah, Ted, I don’t think I can make this one.”

His face didn’t fall an inch, “Oh no. Something wrong?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t get much sleep,” she continued, that part was true. She thought she remembered the clock reading 5AM around the time exhaustion took over.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Ted played along, “I know the boys miss havin’ you around.”

Y/n slipped around the topic, walking to the window. “They excited for today?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “Revved up and ready to go.”

“That’s good,” she kicked her foot against the wall and diverted her gaze to the curtains. “How’s, uh…how’s Jamie?”

Ted studied Y/n, taking in her fidgeting hands and the exaggerated effort to her words. As hard as she tried, Y/n wasn’t that good an actress.

“He’s alright,” Ted answered, “Bit off, y’know. Little bit like you.”

With every word exchanged, Y/n could feel Ted unraveling the whole thing. He could see right through her.

“That’s too bad,” she said, her voice wobbling. The tears that she’d fallen asleep with were reawakening.

“Yeah, it is,” Ted agreed, “I sure hope he figures out whatever’s botherin’ him before the game.”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/n hummed, feeling like she couldn’t breathe, “He’s got a lot of people counting on him.”

“Yeah, but that ain’t as big a deal,” Ted took a seat on the edge of Y/n’s bed. “I’m more concerned with him, y’know. Why he’s hurtin’.”

Ted noticed Y/n’s shoulders begin to tremble.

“Why he’s keepin’ whatever it is to himself rather than leanin’ on somebody.”

Y/n wiped her hands over her face, her cheeks wet with guilt. She had finally reached it, her dreaded breaking point.

She turned to Ted, who looked at her as only a father could. He knew.

“You wanna tell me anything goin’ on?”

Crossing the room and sinking down on the mattress next to Ted, Y/n softly sobbed.

“Is it Jamie?” Ted asked.

Y/n bit her lip.

“Is it us?”

She sniffled.

“Whole enchilada?”

Y/n’s trembled as she inhaled, “I’m scared, Ted.”

“Of what?”

“This,” she gestured around them, “Richmond. This whole thing.”

Ted waited for her to explain further.

“I grew up having to fight for every shred of attention,” Y/n continued, “Doing everything I could to get my parents to…care. And no matter what I did, they never loved me. Not like parents are supposed to love their kids. And when I realized that, I just…shut everyone out. In high school, in college…and it worked. I was safe. I didn’t have to worry about getting hurt.”

“And then I…” Y/n paused, the happy memory washing over her, “I met these two women in a bar and they offered me a job. And suddenly, I’m a part of this sport that I never cared about and there’s this…family I never asked for. And it should have made me happy,” she grasped her stomach, “But it scared me, Ted. It fucking terrified me because you were all so kind and welcoming and you just took me in.”

She stopped to take a breath, “And then Jamie just…” Y/n sniffled, “He just…happened. And that was the scariest part because…”

She couldn’t say the words. Just like 12 hours before, she still couldn’t physically force them out of her body. But somehow, even without speaking, the sentiment got across.

“Hey,” Ted slid an arm around Y/n’s shoulders. His dad mode had been activated.

For the first time in a long time, Y/n allowed herself to be held as she weeped.

“It’s okay,” Ted soothed, rubbing a hand over her arm, “You’re okay.”

After hours of crying underneath her sheets, Y/n thought she had nothing left to give. But the comfort of another person’s presence created a whole new wave. She was letting down from years of self-determination to conquer her pain on her own.

“Y’know,” Ted said after a moment, “Openin’ yourself up’s one of the scariest things in the world. Anyone who says otherwise’s never really done much hurting. But it’s worth it.”

“How do you know that?” Y/n whimpered.

“You don’t,” Ted stated, “No way to know what’ll happen before it happens. But if you don’t take the risk of gettin’ hurt, you’ll never end up with anything worth having. Just how life works.”

“But y’know,” he sighed, “Where we work…it’s kinda the exception. The people there’re some of the best I’ve ever known. They don’t let you down.”

Y/n’s tears were slowing in speed, but not intensity.

“Know how our right reverend Mr. Rojas likes to say that football is life?” Ted earned a slight smile from Y/n, “Same goes for AFC Richmond. These people’re gonna stick by you through thick and thin. Once you’re a part of the family, you’re there. Doesn’t matter if you wanna be. It’s up to you whether you let ‘em in..but they’re gonna love you whether you like it or not. It’s a heck of a lot easier to just let ‘em.”

Throughout the years, Y/n had lacked many relationships, but that of a parent was the one she’d longed for the most. She needed someone to help guide her, to lovingly correct her when she was making the biggest mistakes of her life. In the moment she needed it most, Ted fit the role perfectly.

Without any prompting, Y/n slipped her arms around Ted’s neck and hugged him.

Ted returned and received it, he’d been going through it too. As true as ever, helping someone out of their pit stitched a little piece of him back together as well. He wanted Y/n to succeed in everything she did and he believed without a doubt that she could. But he wanted her to be happy, truly happy, more than anything.

“Thank you,” she whispered over his shoulder.

“No thanks needed,” he smiled, “I got your back.”

Y/n let go of him slowly and hesitantly. It was 10:30, the match was less than two hours away. “You need to go.”

“I do,” Ted replied, patting her shoulder before standing up, “You think you’re gonna stop by for a bit now? Cheer us on?”

Grimacing slightly, Y/n ducked her head towards the floor.

“C’mon now,” Ted clicked his tongue, “I thought we just made progress.”

Y/n chuckled and wiped under her eyes.

“Well, I hope you change your mind.”

Ted left Y/n with plenty to mediate on and strolled back into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He could lead her to victory, but he couldn’t hand her the win.

Y/n stayed on the bed’s edge a long while after Ted left, contemplating all he’d said. She was at what was potentially the most important crossroads of her life. Heeding Ted’s advice held the possibility of more heartache, more loss, more feelings of inadequacy. But didn’t her isolation already offer that in spades? Wasn’t she hurting enough on her own? Tearing herself down at every opportunity? How could anything possibly be worse than that?

But she had felt worse, twelve hours ago. Breaking Jamie’s heart after he’d poured his out to her had crushed her. She’d hurt him so deeply in the name of self preservation. Walking away from him was the most difficult thing she’d ever done. The worst part was that it was totally avoidable. If she’d have told him that she loved him too, they’d have been saved so much pain. Jamie wouldn’t have had to endure her rejection, Y/n wouldn’t have lost the most important person in her life. The blame was entirely hers.

It wasn’t just Jamie. Y/n was so tired of keeping Keeley at arm’s length. She craved her weekly tea with Rebecca. She missed problem solving with Higgins. She wanted to laugh with Ted and talk life with Beard and annoy Roy. She wanted to go to movies with Sam and drink with Dani and have lunches with Colin. She wanted to cheer the boys on at games and celebrate with them after.

She wanted to win and lose with all of them.

She wanted to be a part of their family.

But to do so, she had to heal her first one.

Before she knew what she was doing, Y/n grabbed her phone off her nightstand. She scrolled through her contacts, even though she had memorized the number in hopes that would somehow equal a call. She pressed the name and dialed.

It rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

Y/n hadn’t expected them to pick up. It was 4-something AM where they were.

The familiar message played, asking her to leave her name and number.

Finally, the machine beeped.

“Hi…it’s me…” she started, suddenly nervous, “It’s Y/n. I know it’s early there, I don’t even know if you are there but…I needed to do this.”

Y/n drew a quick breath, it was now or never. “You guys really fucked me up. Me and Caylee. I mean, we’re really screwed up because of you. Maybe she’s doing better than me, maybe I’m the only one who’s still not over all of it but…you really messed up. And maybe you know that, maybe you don’t, but it’s the truth. I am…” she paused, “So broken because you two couldn’t love me. No— you know what,” her voice gained strength, “You could have loved me. You didn’t. For whatever reason, you didn’t. I did everything I possibly could to earn your love, and I never got it. And that’s fucked up.”

Her anger hastened her heartbeat, urging Y/n to go on. “And I don’t know how to forgive you for that. I know it’s possible, worse people have done worse things and they’ve somehow found a way to still be a family, but…I want to. If not for you guys, for me,” her chest’s rise and falls had evened out, “Because I’m tired of being broken. I’m tired of pushing everybody away. I’m tired of thinking that there’s something unlovable about me. I’m tired of thinking that being alone is somehow better than having people that care about you, and I’m tired of being scared,” Y/n threw her free arm out at her side and laughed, “I’m so tired of being scared.”

“None of this probably makes any sense to you, but, ” she sighed, “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to keep doing this. Only talking on my birthday, seeing you every couple years, not knowing what’s going on in your lives…I don’t want that. I want to know you. I want to come home for Christmas. I want to share my life with you. And if you can’t do that then…I don’t want anything.”

Her own words shocked her, was she really potentially kicking her parents out of her life?

“Because I’ve built a really amazing life here,” she said, her voice faltered with emotion, “With amazing people and they love me. They really love me and I’m crazy about them. And I want you guys to be a part of it,” she exhaled and felt the tears rock forward in her eyes, “And if you don’t want that, that’s okay. I’ll be alright because I have them.”

Y/n sighed, feeling the weight of a lifetime lift off her chest.

“I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad,” she continued, “And I hope you love me, for once, more than you do anything else.”

Y/n lowered the phone, staring at the call time. 2 minutes and 10 seconds was all it had taken. “Bye.”

The moment she disconnected, the room suddenly came to life. There was color to the walls and texture to the curtains. There was light shining in through the window and the smell of the coffee on its tray filled the room.

Y/n was free.

Lightened by the release of her life’s pain, the decision at hand became so clear. Y/n flipped on the hotel television, switching the channel to Sky Sports. The match was already into its second half and the Greyhounds were up by one goal.

She did the math in her head. The stadium was ten minutes away. She could still make it.

Flying across the room, Y/n dug through her suitcase for any clothes that weren’t pajamas. She emptied the contents onto her bed only to spot a familiar piece of fabric tucked in one of the compartments.

Y/n unfolded it.

Jamie’s jersey. Still packed from Wembley.

She laughed under her breath, the coincidence of it all was too perfect.

Y/n slipped on the oversized shirt, same as the last time. She threw on jeans and sneakers, grabbing her phone and coat before racing out her hotel room.

The elevator would take too long, she decided, so she sped down the stairs from the sixth floor all the way to the lobby. Jamie hadn’t been the only one to benefit from Roy’s training sessions.

Y/n bolted out the front doors of the hotel and ran to the sidewalk, waving her hands wildly to the cabs that drove by. Eventually, one stopped for her.

“Where to, love?”

“Ethiad Stadium,” Y/n answered as she hopped in the backseat, “Quick as you can.”

The cabbie got back in his lane and took her the way of the stadium. Y/n buzzed in the backseat, adrenaline pulsing through her veins at what she was doing.

“Could you put the match on?” She asked, most of them were typically broadcasted on the radio.

The driver flipped the station till he found the correct one. Y/n listened intently from the backseat, hanging on every word.

Halfway to the stadium, the cab hit typical game day traffic. After waiting impatiently a few minutes, the commentators announced there were twenty minutes left on the clock. If nothing changed in the next thirty seconds, Y/n would miss it entirely.

“You know what,” she reached into her coat pocket, picking a few bills from her wallet and throwing them in the front seat, “Keep the change.”

Y/n ignored the confused calls of the driver as she slid out the backseat into traffic. She ran through the lines of cars until she hit sidewalk. With every slap of her foot against the sidewalk, she could feel Ted’s words penetrate her heart even further. This was what she was supposed to feel.

The sight of Ethiad Stadium welcomed her. Guided by signage, she sprinted to the back entrance she’d usually come through with Rebecca and Keeley. Her sneakers practically screeched across the marble floor, slowing down only for the metal detector and security pat-down.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” Y/n recited her name to the liaison holding a guest list, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”

“Ah,” the young man located her, “Welcome to Ethiad Stadium, Miss-“

Y/n was off before he could finish, bolting up the staircase that would lead her to the VIP box.

She pushed past guests dressed far nicer than her and slid through gaps half her size. Somewhere along the way, Arlo White and Chris Park’s voices became clearer. They were being played through the stadium’s sound system.

“Tartt tried to soldier on, but now he’s in some distress and may require attention.”

Y/n’s steps slowed, pausing in the busy hall to listen properly.

“The med team is helping him off the field. It looks like Richmond may be in trouble.”

Never in her life had Y/n run faster.

Arriving at the VIP box, she rushed up to the security guard.

“Ticket please.”

“I don’t have one,” Y/n panted, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”

“Sorry, love,” the burly man shook his head, “Can’t let you in without a ticket.”

“No, no, no, I’m PR,” Y/n insisted, “I need to get in there now.”

The security guard was unmovable, taking a firm stance in the doorway to block her. “I can’t allow you in without a ticket, ma’am.”

With Jamie injured, there was a new recklessness to Y/n’s urgency. She didn’t quite care what she had to do to get in. She jumped in place to see over the guard’s shoulder, spotting the top of Rebecca’s coiffed hair and Keeley’s curls.

“There! There’s my bosses!” Y/n exclaimed, surging forward through the tiny space between the man and the door.

He pulled her back and away from getting any further, “You can’t enter without a ticket. If you don’t leave now-“

“Rebecca!” Y/n shouted, “Keeley! Keeley! Rebecca!”

She was loud enough that both women, plus Higgins, turned around in their seats. The sight of Y/n struggling against the security guard must have frightened them more than she’d intended.

Rebecca rushed through the room, “Let her go! Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“You know this woman?” The guard asked, still holding Y/n back as if she were some crazed fan.

“She works with me,” Keeley scolded, having followed Rebecca, “Get your fucking hands off her.”

The guard released Y/n quickly, eager to avoid any more reprimanding. “I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he addressed her, “Go on in.”

Y/n launched herself into Rebecca’s waiting arms, exhausted but charging off once more with the women.

“We thought you weren’t coming,” Keeley said as they rushed back to their seats.

Ignoring any and all things around her, Y/n ran down the steps of the box and threw herself against the railing. Jamie. Where was Jamie?

Down by the side of the pitch, he was laid out with the physios working on his ankle. Whatever move he’d pulled had cost him something terrible.

“What happened?” Y/n asked, unaware of who she was asking.

“He stopped a goal and landed wrong,” Keeley explained, slipping into the seat beside Y/n’s, “They just brought him off.”

Y/n clutched the railing with a vice-like grip, her eyes never leaving Jamie. She could see he was breathing hard, that his body clenched with every touch the physios made. He’d never been injured on the pitch this bad.

The game, however, couldn’t stop for one player. Ted made the call to play with ten men for the time being while Jamie rested. The Greyhounds held their own, Van Damme in particular blocking nearly every goal. But all Man City needed was one goal to tie things up and take the league title.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n mumbled as if she could will him to rally, “Come on.”

When the medics had done everything they could, Ted kneeled down next to Jamie. They appeared to be in deep conversation, Y/n would have killed to be on the other side, encouraging Jamie back onto the pitch. Whatever Ted was saying had to help. The team didn’t stand a chance if it didn’t.

“Get up, get up, get up,” she whispered, “Jamie, please get up.”

In perfect timing, Jamie extended a hand to Ted, who helped get him to his feet. Y/n held her breath as he bore weight on his ankle and exhaled when he didn’t buckle.

“Yes,” she clapped.

Ted went back to Beard and Roy, and Jamie took his time getting back on the pitch. The Man City fans livened up and began booing their former striker.

With her emotions driving her, Y/n turned to the sections around hers. “Oh, fuck off!”

Jamie shared her sentiment, taking the hate as well as the praise. He egged them on further and encouraged the taunts, jutting his tongue out and beating on his chest.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n cheered. There was no way for him to see or hear her, but she stayed up and screaming as if she were right beside him.

Jamie made it back to the pitch and the match resumed. Van Damme blocked another goal with spectacular skill and got the ball over to Isaac. Isaac kicked it across the field to Jamie, who controlled it masterfully.

Y/n’s breath hung in her chest as he moved across the field. Before her eyes, he came back to his truest self. This was him at his very best. This was Jamie playing for no one but himself and it was beautiful.

Jamie avoided every single City player that tried to steal the ball away. Making it to the net, he sent the ball flying and the whole stadium froze.

It soared past the goalie, a perfect shot.

The Greyhounds pounced on their teammate, hugging and slapping him on the back. The entire crowd went wild, the Richmond fans lost their minds.

“YES!!” Y/n threw her hands in the air, “JAMIE!!”

Keeley, Rebecca and Higgins jumped to their feet, cheering and screaming. Y/n and Keeley reached for one another and squealed.

Jamie chose the honorable route and didn’t make a big deal over the goal against his former club. When the boys let go of him, the ref blew his whistle and held up the sub board. Roberts was coming on, Jamie was coming off.

It was the most extraordinary way to leave a match, and Jamie was in a bit of pain. He wasn’t going to argue with the decision. But he hadn’t expected the Man City half of the stadium to change their tune. When their boos morphed to cheers, his eyes glistened with lifelong tears.

It had been a long road to get to a point where Jamie could play for himself. He’d spent all his years working to prove his father wrong, using his hatred as motivation to grow his skills. When he’d exhausted that option, he found himself a man without a country. He wasn’t sure what to do.

Then Y/n had shattered his heart.

He’d woken up with very little motivation to play. Their goodbye had added edge to all his fears. Mixed with the possibility of seeing his father, it was a miracle Jamie could move. But he was a fighter till the end, and even if he was a wreck, he would still give 110%. That was his gift.

As he looked up into the stands, despite everything, he wished Y/n was there to celebrate with him.

Little did he know, Y/n was crying tears of pride on the second level. She watched Jamie walk off the field feeling her heart completely tied to his. He’d proved everyone, even himself, wrong.

The game ended soon after that, with Richmond coming out on top. They had earned their spot in the last game of the season and a chance at the Premier League title. Y/n, Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins fell into an group hug.

“Hey, hey,” Y/n pulled out of Keeley’s arms and locked eyes, “You’re my best friend.”

Keeley’s gaze grew teary. She didn’t know what had changed in Y/n since the night before, but she welcomed it and hugged her tighter.

“And you,” Y/n reached over to Rebecca, “You’re just so fucking amazing.”

Rebecca laughed and wrapped an arm around Y/n, lovingly kissing her hair. Her friend was back from wherever she’d disappeared to.

“Oh,” Y/n grabbed hold of Higgins and grinned, “I love working with you so much.”

Higgins embraced her and shouted over the crowd. “Good to have you back.”

As much as she adored them, Y/n’s eyes fell downwards to the pitch. Jamie was celebrating amidst the boys, but they were about to leave.

Keeley followed her gaze, “Go. They’ll take him to the med room.”

Y/n’s face dropped, realizing that she had made a huge faux pas towards Keeley she hadn’t even considered.

Keeley could read the worry before it crossed Y/n’s lips. “Oi, fuck off,” she laughed, “Go get him.”

She didn’t need to hear anything else. Y/n took off running.

She sprinted through the stadium, weaving in and out of the crowd until she hit the authorized personnel area guarded by security.

“I’m with AFC Richmond,” Y/n breathed, exhausted by the effort expended. She reached into her wallet, “I have proof.”

She held up the employee ID and let the guard examine it.

“Go ahead,” the taller one slid to the side.

Y/n rushed through the glass doors. This was one of the only stadiums she hadn’t been to and she didn’t know her way. She peeked through every door until she found the physio room. Neither the medics nor Jamie were back yet.

Jamie hobbled down the hall, assisted by the physios that had aided him on the field. The adrenaline of the game was starting to wear off and he was looking forward to getting off his foot.

They opened the door to the back room to reveal the last person he expected to see.

Y/n spun around and their eyes met, fear suddenly taking hold of her. In her mad dash to the stadium, overcome with emotion, she hadn’t taken into consideration that Jamie may not have wanted to see her.

“Ma’am,” one of the medics spoke up, “You can’t be back here.”

Jamie was dazed, from the thrill of the match and Y/n’s presence. He took clumsy steps toward her, stuck in the magnetic pull they had on one another.

Y/n cautiously moved forward, terrified of what could come next. Jamie had every right to throw her out and never speak to her again. She almost wanted him to, to make her regret ever turning him away. Deserving seemed like too plain a word. She had earned his indifference.

But in the way Jamie’s eyes traced her face, warm and familiar, shocked and relieved, she knew that wasn’t the case.

They fell into each other’s arms without a single word.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered through her tears, “I’m so sorry.”

Jamie buried his face in her neck, unable to do any more than absorb her. She was here. She was here.

Y/n, however, had so much to say. She urgently guided his head up to face her, tears welling in both their eyes. In that moment, telling the truth never seemed simpler.

“I love you.”

Jamie’s mouth curled upwards, searching her face in shock.

“I love you so much,” Y/n confessed, holding his cheeks, “I’m so sorry for what I said.”

She was cut off by Jamie, pressing his lips fervently into hers.

Neither of them could clearly remember the kisses they’d shared during their one night together. They certainly couldn’t count them. But this, this held all the glory and promise of a first kiss. Months of tension and longing they didn’t know they’d felt were poured out, replaced by sweet relief.

With his brain hazy and high, Jamie backed them up towards the physio table. The first step he took on his ankle made him wince, but he didn’t break from their kiss.

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” Y/n pulled away, smiling breathlessly, “Ankle.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled as he chased after her lips.

Y/n giggled, letting him steal a few more sloppy kisses. She wasn’t in a place to deny him anything.

When Jamie did eventually pull back, he nudged his nose against Y/n’s, breathing her in. “You only back here ‘cause I won it for us?”

“You caught me,” Y/n ran a hand through the back of his hair, “I’d have slipped right back out if you hadn’t.”

Jamie grinned and stroked a hand over her head. Now that he had her as close as he’d craved, he wanted to touch as much as he could. He looked down between them and spotted the familiar blue and red.

“I swear, magic shit happens when you wear this thing,” Jamie rubbed the fabric between his fingers.

Y/n rested her forehead on Jamie’s shoulder, shaking with laughter.

“I’m a fucking genius for buying it,” he beamed, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hair. “I love you so much.”

Knuckles rapped against the door and someone cleared their throat. At some point, the medics had left and returned.

“Mr. Tartt,” one said, “We do need to check your ankle.”

Y/n removed herself from being pinned between the table and Jamie. Jamie dropped his hands to hold hers, unwilling to lose full contact as he took a seat. The physios had a difficult time working with Jamie’s constant movement, trying to pull Y/n in for kiss after kiss.

All things considered, Jamie got off lucky. A brace was wrapped around his ankle and he was advised to use crutches for the next few days. Jamie heard most of their instructions…well, some. He’d more distractedly spare the medics a glance before looking back to Y/n, who memorized all their warnings.

When they left once more, giving Jamie a minute to rest, he tugged Y/n between his legs and wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/n tucked herself into his chest, holding his head as it dug into the side of hers.

There was so much to say, so much to explain, but neither one could think straight enough for any of it. All they wanted to do was hold each other, reveling in the sweet relief of longing being exchanged for love.

—————————

Back at the hotel, Y/n packed both hers and Jamie’s room while he rested on the Coach. She’d handed his suitcase off to Will before heading to her own car, regretting her decision not to join the team bus considering how the trip was ending.

Jamie got Y/n on the phone the second they pulled out of the hotel. She’d insisted he ride back with the boys, but he was more insistent on not being apart for a second. They spent very little time talking as the phone got passed around, each of the Greyhounds wanting to speak to Y/n after so many weeks with no contact.

Keeley and Rebecca coveted the mobile the longest, badgering her for as many details as Y/n would give them on how her and Jamie had come to be. Y/n revealed precious little information, both because she was still retracing the sequence of events herself and because she didn’t feel like telling the entire team just yet.

Along the way, Kenneth the bus driver and Y/n were weaving between lanes together, switching spots in front on one another. The boys could be heard shouting for Kenneth to drive faster so they could beat her. Y/n smiled and laughed the whole way back to Richmond, lighter than she’d been in years.

They pulled into Nelson Road Stadium late, but full of energy. The Greyhounds poured out of the bus toting champagne bottles, singing and chanting as loud as they could. Man City was their great white whale, and they’d beaten them so spectacularly, they deserved a fucking celebration.

Y/n moved around the physio room while Jamie was in the locker room, setting up a bucket of ice water for his ankle, per the medic’s instructions. She headed down the hall to retrieve him after, running into the boys changed into their dress clothes.

“Looking good,” she complimented.

The stragglers cheered and hung back to hug Y/n, Isaac picking her up and spinning her around. Richard pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Hey,” Colin grew serious and pointed a finger towards her, “You owe us an explanation for where you’ve been.”

“Yeah, not cool,” Isaac agreed, setting her back down.

“I know, I know,” Y/n chuckled, “You’ll get one. But tonight,” she gestured to the door, “Go make a big fat mess of headlines for me to clean up.”

They cheered rowdily before heading out the door, leaving Y/n beaming. She was home.

She slipped into the locker room, Jamie was seated in his assigned spot, fidgeting. She knocked softly on the door.

“Come on, superstar,” she held out a hand.

Jamie smiled coyly, “Where you takin’ me?”

“I’m making sure Richmond has a fighting chance next weekend,” Y/n replies, helping him to his feet, “Can’t afford to lose you before you beat the shit out of West Ham.”

Jamie wrapped an arm around Y/n’s shoulders, much preferring to use her as his brace than the crutches. They took their time getting down the hall and into the physio room.

Y/n went about getting Jamie situated while he typed something into his phone. Once his foot was submerged in the ice, she stood to her full height and asked, “Whatcha doing?”

“Texting me dad,” he answered plainly.

Y/n blinked, “I’m sorry, what?”

Jamie clicked his phone shut and set it aside. They had a lot to catch up on. “When I was down, Coach came and talked to me. Told me that I should forgive me dad,” he quickly held up a hand to Y/n’s worried expression, “Not for him. For me. I’ve been in my head all week ‘cause I felt like I couldn’t be me without hatin’ him. Y’know? But between Coach and mum…I don’t know…I found it again. That thing that made me wanna play in the first place. Not for him, not for anyone…just me.”

Y/n smiled proudly. Jamie’s dad was the permanent thorn in his side. Rather than live with the pain, he was learning to grow around it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. It was also deeply ironic that Y/n had made a similar phone call to her parents hours ago. “Just something to tell you later.”

Jamie stroked a hand over her back, “How ‘bout you tell me what made you change your mind?”

Y/n slotted herself between Jamie’s thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck. The new intimacy stole any intention of ever having less than one hand on each other.

“Ted came by my room this morning,” she started, “We had a talk and I…I just realized that I wanted to be with you more than I wanted to stay scared of you.”

Jamie’s brows raised, “Scared of me?”

Y/n nodded and brushed a hand through his hair, “You and all those big feelings…they scare the shit out of me. But I got a taste of what life’s like without you,” she sighed, “And I can’t do it.”

Jamie’s fingers moved against Y/n’s back, he watched and listened intently.

“I raced through the fucking streets for you,” Y/n smiled, “I fought a security guard.”

Snorting at the mental image, Jamie slipped an arm under Y/n’s legs and lifted her onto his lap. She yelped and tightened her hold around him.

“We’re gonna break this table,” Y/n laughed, “And people are going to make assumptions.”

“Let ‘em,” Jamie smirked, eyes full of adoration, “Say it again.”

“I love you,” she whispered joyfully.

He wanted to hear it a million more times and he wanted to say it an equal amount. He captured her lips once more in a soft kiss, content to stay there as long as the world would let them.

The door to the med room squeaked open, “Oh, fuck.”

Jamie and Y/n broke apart, twisting to see Roy and Keeley stood in the doorway.

“You two were annoying before. You’re gonna be fucking unbearable now,” Roy complained.

“Oh, stop it,” Keeley lightly smacked his hand, “They’ve waited this long.”

“What’re you guys doing?” Jamie asked.

“We thought we’d come and keep you company,” Keeley answered.

Roy kicked the door shut and held up an unopened champagne bottle, “Fucking celebrate!”

Keeley squealed and ran over to hug Y/n and Jamie, the three of them embracing one another. “‘Cause that was fucking amazing, Jamie.”

“Yeah, I was fucking amazing,” Jamie agreed, “You’re right.”

Keeley cackled while Y/n dropped her head to Jamie’s shoulder. “Dear God, I don’t think I can handle this ego.”

“Gotten this far,” Roy grumbled, rolling his eyes at his protege.

“We might need to tag team it,” Y/n suggested, “What do you say, Royo?”

“No,” he pointed between Jamie and Y/n, “You signed up for this, he’s your fucking problem.”

Y/n looked down at Jamie, who was already grinning up at her. He’d been her problem for a long long time.

“I’ll make the best of it,” she said, pecking Jamie’s lips.

Roy popped the champagne and he and Keeley pulled up chairs. He offered his ex the bottle, “You start us off.”

“Mmm, don’t mind if I do,” she took a swig.

“Right,” Jamie turned to Roy, “What the fuck happened, man?”

The four of them laughed as the champagne was passed around.

“Did I look sexy?” Jamie asked, turning to Y/n and handing her the bottle, “Babe?”

“I take it all back,” Y/n joked and took a swig, “I’m not ready for this. We’re back to being friends.”

Jamie laughed and tugged her closer to him.

“Shame you weren’t injured in your fucking head, innit?” Roy grinned.

“Right,” Keeley spoke up, “You gonna tell us how this happened? Spare no details?”

Roy took the bottle from Y/n, “You can spare the details.”

Y/n scoffed, “Oh, there’ll be details spared.”

“She just doesn’t want people to know she stole my virtue,” Jamie cheekily smiled, “I get that right, babe?”

Keeley gasped, Roy grunted.

“I will fucking leave you here to freeze to death,” Y/n threatened, “If you ever tell people that’s what happened.”

The foursome stayed put for a good half hour, their raucous laughter bouncing off the walls. Y/n and Jamie explained an edited version of what happened in London to cause such tension at Georgie and Simon’s house. Keeley, surprisingly, didn’t seem to care that she was watching one of her best friends and her ex-boyfriend tell how they’d fallen in love. She was more thrilled than anyone. Roy was less than enthusiastic, but couldn’t hide his smile as he saw how happy Jamie seemed.

When it was time to leave, Roy helped Jamie in to Y/n’s car. He’d need someone to help him around the house for a day or two and there was no one else he wanted to take care of him. They made the twenty minute drive to Jamie’s house non-eventfully, Jamie pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hand at every red light they hit.

Y/n unloaded their bags first, dropping them in the hall, before coming back to help Jamie out of the car. They managed the driveway and the threshold just fine, and the second Y/n had locked the door behind them, Jamie was on her, crushing their lips and bodies together.

After so many months of falling without notice, neither realized just how much love they had for one another until they could express it fully. Like looking through some all-knowing kaleidoscope, everything leading up to that very moment made crystal clear sense. The jealousy, the adoration, the attachment…it had all been leading to this.

All of Jamie’s hard work, his effort to become his best self had mattered. This was the payoff.

Y/n’s long-standing walls crumbled with each touch, never to be rebuilt. Her fear melted at their feet.

They were free of their pasts, belonging only to their future.

————

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 ❤️)

[thetarttfuldickhead]

“Hang on,” Jamie said, sitting up on his elbows and frowning down at Roy. “You broke up with Keeley ‘cause you thought she was too good for you, right, and you’d only make her miserable.”

Roy glanced up from his book. “Yeah?” he asked slowly, wondering where the hell this was going.

“Yeah, but you haven’t broken up with me, have you?”

What the fuck? “… no?”

Strangely, that didn’t seem to be the good news someone who’d cried from having his dick sucked by Roy not twenty minutes ago ought to have found it, because Jamie scowled. “So what, you don’t think I’m too good for you, then? Like, Keeley is, but I am not? We’ve been together for over a year, mate. Ain’t you worried about making me miserable?”

Something icy cold grabbed hold of Roy’s heart and squeezed hard. “Am I?”

“What?” If Jamie had rolled his eyes any harder he’d have dislocated them. ”‘Course not, don’t be an idiot, man.”

“What the fu— Then why— Do you fucking want me to break up with you?”

“Jesus Christ, Roy,” Jamie scoffed, “I said don’t be an idiot, didn’t I. ‘Course I don’t want you breaking up with me, you’re the love of me fucking life, you arsehole, what the hell are you even on about.”

Roy closed his eyes. Roy counted to ten. Roy reminded himself that he absolutely didn’t want to break up with Jamie, and didn’t want to strangle him either. “Then what,” he asked in as level a tone as he could manage (which wasn’t very), “is your fucking problem?”

“Nothing,” Jamie said defensively, even as he shifted to drape himself over Roy’s chest and press his face against Roy’s neck. Automatically, Roy put an arm around him, pulling him closer and running a hand through the still-damp hair. “Just wondering why you don’t think I’m good enough to break up with, is all.”

Fucking hell. Roy shook his head slowly, wondering once more at the aburd irony of him falling head over heels for Jamie Tartt of all people. Wondering if he ought to tell Jamie about the effort it took not to run screaming the other way for fear of fucking this up too.

Some other time, maybe. Not tonight.

“I think you’re a muppet,” he told Jamie bluntly instead, “and far, far too good to break up with, all right? Now go the fuck to sleep before I fucking change my mind about that.”

A snicker then, followed by a happy sigh as Jamie curled impossibly closer. “You wouldn’t.”

No. Roy fucking wouldn’t.

[illiterateaffairs]

DISTRACTIONS I | LONDON CALLING

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T (language) 

word count: 4,772

summary: you arrive in richmond anxious about starting your new life, but quickly feel at home among this new cast of characters. one of them is of particular interest to you for some reason. 

A/N: thank you to everyone who read the prologue, sent messages, and left nice comments in the reblogs and tags!! would love to continue to hear your thoughts. 💕

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

The next two weeks are somehow the slowest and quickest two weeks of your life. You put your notice in at work the second you can. The coworkers you mingled with the most are sad to see you go, especially Kara. On your last day, she surprises you with flowers and candy, and you wish you’d spent more time with her. You make a mental note to reach out to her from time to time. 

Your landlord lets you leave most of the furniture behind since you won’t be needing it all at your new place. Rebecca promised the flat she had for you was both homey and chic. Despite being eager to get out of there, you feel a sense of loss as you say goodbye to your apartment before heading to the airport. Even though your relationship was far from perfect and ended tumultuously, you and Mason made some good memories there. You watched your first Richmond game there, even though you had no idea what was going on. And now here you are on an eight hour flight to London, getting ready to work for Richmond. 

You thankfully sleep most of the trip, having opted for a late night flight, so by the time you land, it's the afternoon in local time. You have no idea how you’ll manage to sleep at a reasonable time tonight, but that’s later-you’s problem. 

The butterflies that have taken up home in your stomach since you left finally take a break from aggressively fluttering around when you see Ted and Beard waiting for you outside. You break into a huge grin before jogging over to the duo. You instantly feel at home when Ted is engulfing you into one of his signature hugs, and you come to the realization you haven’t seen him since he started coaching over here. Same with Beard, and while the two of you wouldn’t normally go for a hug, you find yourself wrapping your arms around him briefly anyway, and you can tell he doesn’t mind at all. 

“How was your flight, Kiddo?” Ted asks as they lead you to a fancy black car parked nearby with an even fancier-dressed man. 

“It was good,” you respond distractedly, “I’m sorry, do you have a driver?” 

Ted smiles as he pulls out the back door for the two of you, Beard rounding the other side, loading your bags into the trunk. “Courtesy of Rebecca. She wanted to make sure you arrived in style.” 

In the back of the car, you fit snugly between the two coaches and you couldn’t be happier. 

“And don’t worry,” Ted continues, “We came over here as soon as training ended, so most of the team should be out for the day. And as far as everyone else knows, we’re just two generous colleagues who offered to pick up the newly-minted foreigner from the airport. No one will know we’re secretly two of your favorite people in the world.”

You chuckle, but you appreciate his words. Turning to glance at Beard, he mimics zipping his lips shut and you mirror him with a giggle. 

The car ride back is filled with loud chatter as the three of you- mostly you and Ted- catch up, while you try not to be alarmed by the fact you’re driving on the left side of the road. When you pull into the parking lot of Nelson Road Stadium, you feel the butterflies start to return. Here we go. 

The driver follows you, promising to wait in the lobby until you’re ready to head home for the night. Beard heads to the coach’s quarters while Ted introduces you to everyone you pass on the way to Rebecca’s office. You try not to seem overeager to meet her in person - which you are. You cautiously follow Ted into the room, overhearing the familiar sound of Rebecca’s voice mixing with someone else’s. When their attention is drawn to where you and Ted are standing, Rebecca enthusiastically stands from her couch to greet you and you’re instantly taken with her presence- she’s even more beautiful and tall in person. 

You go to shake her hand but she opts for a warm hug as she tells you how excited she is for you to join the team. She and Ted introduce you to Leslie Higgins, Richmond’s Director of Communications. He shakes your hand with a kind smile, but you can tell he’s surprised when he hears your American accent for the first time. The three of you don’t give him a chance to question it as Ted drags you back on your welcome tour. But not before Rebecca demands you text her later that night to tell her what you think of the flat she readied for you.

Ted takes you back downstairs to where the locker rooms and coaches offices are. To Ted’s earlier point, not many players are around but you can’t help but be intimidated by the few you meet briefly. You’ve never been around famous athletes before. You try to remember their names - Colin and Isaac are the two that have stuck so far. You smile at Beard’s familiar face when Ted takes you to their office, knocking on the window to grab another man’s attention. Ted informs you that the man is Roy Kent, a name you recognize from the handful of games you’ve watched over the years. He’s another coach for the team now. Roy grunts out a ‘nice to meet you’ without bothering to turn around, but Ted lets you know that's a pretty nice gesture when it comes to Roy, so you take it. 

As you leave the locker room, you meet the team’s kitman, Will, who immediately seems like the sweetest person in the world and you hope to get to know him better during your time here. 

Finally you make it to what Ted describes at the main event - the pitch - and he was right, it was glorious. You’ve never been in an arena of this size, and despite not being too big of a sports person, you feel excitement engulfing you. You’re only pulled out of your trance as Ted calls out to one lone straggler who seems to be getting in some last minute practice on the field. 

“Hey Jamie!” Ted yells across the field, “Practice ended over an hour ago bud! Grab a shower and go home and get some rest.”

Jamie jogs over to you two with the soccer ball under his arm, “Aye aye, Coach.” Out of breath, the not-unattractive footballer looks you up and down. “Who’s this?”

You introduce yourself and Jamie shakes your hand once before dropping it.

“She’s Rebecca’s new PA we told y’all about earlier this week. She’s going to be helping out with some social media posts and what not.” Ted reminds him and Jamie seems to nod in recognition.

“Guess I’ll be seeing ya around then.” he smiles politely and then heads back inside. 

You and Ted spend a few more minutes admiring the stadium but your interest shifts to Jamie. He looked familiar, but not from the football matches you’ve watched, you don’t think. But where else would you have seen him?

Eventually Ted leads you back inside, finally showing you where you’ll be spending most of your time. He explains that your office used to belong to the team’s PR person, Keeley Jones, before she left to start her own firm. He says the club is still one of her top clients, so you’d be working closely with her from time to time, and that he couldn’t wait for you to meet her, claiming you’d absolutely adore her. You believed him. So far you were taken with everyone you’ve met. Rebecca was incredible, Higgins seemed great, Colin and Isaac a fun pair, Will a sweetheart, and Roy an interesting man you looked forward to learning more about. Even Jamie - who you couldn’t get a read on just yet - still intrigued you. 

You plop down in the desk chair now belonging to you and can’t help but spin around a few times. Ted chuckles and tells you he’ll leave you to get comfortable for a bit while he finishes up some things for the night, promising not to be long before he comes back to take you home. 

Finally having a moment to yourself after almost 12 hours, you let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Distracted by the excitement of being in a new city, catching up with Beard and Ted, and meeting your new coworkers, you hadn’t had a chance to process that you did it. You uprooted your life and successfully made it halfway across the world to start a new one.

Before you let complete panic sink in, you open the laptop sitting neatly on your desk. There’s not much on the computer, but there’s a folder with information about AFC Richmond and the players. You decide maybe you should start learning everyone’s names since you’re going to be responsible for curating their social media presence and such soon. Looking at the team roster, your eyes immediately find Isaac and Colin’s pictures, feeling proud that you at least know a couple players' names. Same with Jamie, but then you scan the rest of the roster and realize there are a lot more names and faces you don’t recognize. Your mind scrambles to come up with some mnemonic device to help you remember everyone, but before you can come up with a comically long sentence, there’s a knock on your office door. 

Looking up, you expect to see Ted, but instead find a younger man with a bright smile. You feel a burst of recognition and glance down at the roster on your computer, matching the face of your visitor with one on the screen.

“Oh, hi! Are you…Sam Obi…”

His smile doesn’t falter as he steps into your office. “Sam Obisanya,” he pronounces smoothly, and then says your name just as eloquently. “I just saw Ted, and he told me you’d just arrived and I wanted to take the chance to say hello and welcome to the team.”

Warmth spreads across your chest as you smile back at him, “That’s so kind, thank you.”

“Of course! I know you haven’t been here for long, but how are you liking things so far?”

“Oh it's been good,” you trail off, finding yourself unable to lie to his sweet face, “A bit intimidating.” 

He frowns, “Why’s that? If Jan Maas said something strange to you, he’s just blunt because he’s Dutch.”

You chuckle, briefly glancing back down at the roster to put a face to that name. “Noted. But no, I think I’m just realizing how much I don’t know about soccer, or football, I guess. And that there are a lot of you to remember.”

Sam laughs, “We are a large team. Anything I could do to help?”

Part of you wants to be nice and tell him he doesn’t have to stick around any longer, but the anxious part of you grabs onto the life line, “Actually, yes, could you help me get to know all the players’ names- like, tell me things about everyone so it's easier for me to remember?” You lean back and tilt your computer towards him so he knows he’s welcome to stay, and he immediately gets settled in one of the chairs on the other side of your desk. 

You spend the next thirty minutes getting to know Sam as well as the rest of the team, and you already feel more at ease. Sam proves to be even more wonderful than his first impression gave off. He shares hilarious anecdotes about every footballer on the team, and before you know it you’re able to recall who people like Dani and Zoreuaux and Bumbercatch all were. 

Sam and you also exchange some personal stories. You tell him about your life in Chicago and how you were looking for a fresh start, albeit leaving out a few details you don’t want to burden him with on the first meeting. Sam shares that he'd moved to England a few years ago from Nigeria, and that he was going to open a Nigerian restaurant here soon for a little taste of home. You told him you couldn’t wait to try it. By the end of your conversation, you feel like you have someone you can call a friend in Richmond, and Sam even offers to show you around the city during some off time later this week. 

As Sam gives you one last quiz about AFC Richmond’s player’s and your eyes linger on Jamie’s picture again, your brain finally remembers how you know him. You flashback to a memory of Kara practically giving a full PowerPoint presentation to your office back home on the drama going down on her favorite British reality show. 

“Oh, my God,” you yelp, scaring the hell out of your potential new friend who rests his hand over his chest, “Sorry, I just realized how I know Jamie.” 

“You’ve met him before?” Sam questions, surprised. 

“No, I’ve just seen him on that one show, Lust something…”

Before you have the words out, Sam is cackling, “Yes, Lust Conquers All! Not Jamie’s finest moment but definitely a memorable one.” 

“God, he was such an asshole,” you comment, recalling the way he acted in the few clips Kara showed you. 

“Oh, he was,” Sam nods, “He used to be a total prick. He still is sometimes, but more in a loveable way.” At your unsure expression, Sam elaborates, “Jamie’s been through a lot. And yes, he used to be very self centered. But since Ted’s been around, he’s become a better teammate, and a better friend.”

You can’t help but smile at the nod to Ted’s impact. It doesn’t surprise you in the least; he’s always bettered the lives of the people he’s met. Still, your heart swells with pride. 

“Well, either way, I look forward to seeing what he’s like off the screen.”

Sam heads out a little after that, with another promise of being your tour guide this weekend and another to have lunch tomorrow. Then Ted’s coming back to collect you to take you home for the night. You bid a farewell to Rebecca in the parking lot before you’re driving off. After making sure you can get into your apartment building, you say goodnight to Ted, who promises to walk with you back to the stadium for your first official day tomorrow. 

When you enter your new flat, you’re taken back by how much you love it already. The furniture is feminine but not overly posh. The décor and colors are bright without being over the top. It feels more like you than your old apartment, even though you picked out that place and the furniture yourself. You quickly remind yourself of Mason inserting his opinions over yours when it came to those choices, before you push all thoughts of him away for the night. 

You spend the rest of the night unpacking your clothes and other small belongings. You’re pleasantly surprised that you're eager to sleep as it gets close to an appropriate time for bed. You quickly change into the first set of comfy clothes you find and climb into your very large and very comfortable bed. You text Rebecca to express how much you adore the flat and how grateful you are for everything. She responds pretty quickly, telling you that you never have to thank her but she’s glad you’re settling in. 

You bury yourself under your covers, trying to coax your thoughts away for a good night’s sleep. But your mind runs rampant with thoughts of working with Rebecca tomorrow and hanging out with Sam. A new country, new job, and (hopefully) new friends. It’s only been one day but you were already feeling reassured about your decision to move here. Which is good because you only bought a one way ticket. 

Your first few weeks with AFC Richmond could not have been more of a dream. You didn’t expect to enjoy working for a football club as much as you do. Where your old job was drab and had you focused on making boring food and clothes sound appealing, with this job you got to spend time with the players who were actually interesting people you got to promote. On most days, you got to hang out with the team and film content while they practiced or played. Sometimes events occurred after training or games so that’s when you’d gotten to know a lot of them. You were closest with Sam, who you’d begun to spend more time with when neither of you were working. On other days, you’d work more closely with Rebecca, assisting her with more mundane tasks, but still more enjoyable than any of the grunt work you did back in America. And Rebecca had quickly become one of your favorite people to be around. You didn’t think you’d meet a more remarkable woman until a week in when she introduced you to Keeley, who you’d already heard so much about. No surprise she lived up to the hype. 

Keeley is the friendliest and most talkative person you ever met, and you hope her and Rebecca’s energy rubs off on you even just a little. The pair of them quickly included you in their girl talks and invited you to sit with them during games when you’re not busy capturing content. They also quickly caught you up on the gossip around the club, first and foremost that Keeley is still getting over a breakup with Roy, and apparently she doesn’t quite understand why they had parted ways. While she seems to be mostly handling it alright- meaning not taking a job an ocean away from home to run away from him- it gives the two of you something to bond over.

When you have time to yourself, you try to sit down and write. Sometimes you’re able to get a few sentences typed out in a Word document, before you’re furiously smashing the back-space button because you hate every word. One day, you share your writer’s block struggle with Trent Crimm, a former journalist who Ted is letting shadow the club for a novel he’s writing. Roy and the team had been pretty bothered at first, but everyone is on better terms these days. Despite your respective preferences for non-fiction and fiction, Trent gives you the advice to not force anything. You’ll write when you’re ready. And while you appreciate and try to take the advice, you wish you were ready now. With a job that doesn’t make you want to rip your hair out and a beautiful city you’ve been exploring, you should be more inspired than ever. But so far no such inspiration has struck. So you try to be patient. 

Instead you focus your energy on helping Keeley with the new Bantr campaign she has AFC Richmond collaborating on. Most of the team is staying past practice to get new promotional pictures shot and in a few weeks you’ll be helping Keeley shoot video footage for the ads. You couldn’t help but feel excited to be on this side of the advertising world, and actually be a part of the team that's being advertised.  

You're squatting on the ground, off to the side so you’re not blocking any shots. Your phone is unlocked and ready to capture some BTS of the photoshoot as Isaac is the first team member to get his picture taken. As you're about to press record when the photographer begins to shoot, you can’t help but giggle at how serious Isaac is taking this. He stands stick straight with his hands clasped behind his back and lips in a straight line. 

“Something funny, new girl?” he asks without breaking eye contact with the camera. He’s been calling you that since you arrived despite now having been around for a month. You think he means it affectionately, though he probably wouldn’t admit it. 

“No, it's just you look so…stern?” you chuckle as you start recording a clip, “If this is for a dating app, shouldn’t you try to look more appealing to any potential suitors?”

“I thought they were blurring our faces?” he asks with furrowed brows, referring to the fact that the app was anonymous and this ad campaign would be following suit.

“Yeah, but don’t you want to be a sexy blur?” 

This makes Isaac crack a smile as he lets out a surprised laugh. You snap your fingers at the photographer, “There, get that!” 

Satisfied with your first piece of content for the night, you stand up and join Keeley where she’s observing everything from behind the monitor displaying the photos as the photographer takes them. 

Keeley smiles at you, “That was pretty good! They could all stand to loosen up a bit - they’re not taking mugshots.”

“That’s literally what all of their football headshots look like,” you joke, “Is there no smiling in football?” You laugh together as another idea strikes, “Hey, what if we play some music? That might relax everyone and loosen them up?”

Keeley’s light up. “That’s a great idea,” she turns to face the other players waiting for their turn, “Oi, does anyone have a speaker?”

Colin raises his hand, “I’ve got one in my locker.”

Moments later, the locker room is filled with upbeat music from a playlist Keeley curated on the fly. The team’s energy instantly escalates, and so do the pictures of them. As Dani takes over Isaac’s spot in front of the camera, you hear someone whispering your name from outside the locker room. You find Sam waving to you from the doorway. You smile and jog over to meet him.

“Looks like a party in here,” he comments amusedly. 

“Yeah, why aren’t you participating by the way? Got a secret girlfriend you’re not telling me about?” 

Sam flushes, “Not quite. I just don’t want to appear too…available.” 

You quirk your eyebrow, “Suspicious but I’ll allow it. So what's up?”

“I wanted to know if you were free Friday night? We end practice early that day and I was wondering if I could take you to that museum I told you about if you still haven’t been?”

“No, that sounds perfect, I would love that!” 

You share excited smiles. “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 

“Bright and early.”

As you bid good night to Sam and return your focus back to the shoot, you note that Jamie is getting his photo taken now. You accidentally catch his gaze and successfully fight the urge to break eye contact. You offer a smile as you go to get more footage for Richmond’s Instagram, but Jamie returns the smile seemingly half heartedly. You try not to take it personally since you haven’t really had the chance to get to know the guy since you’ve been here. You wonder why that is. While you weren’t very close with many members of the team, aside from Sam, most of them have taken opportunities to get to know you a bit. Except for Jamie.

You try not to dwell, knowing enough about his reputation to know not being close might not be a bad thing. 

The rest of the photoshoot goes extremely well. The Instagram stories you post of the guys are already gaining a lot of attention, and the photos look incredible. You ask Keeley to see if you can get Bantr to let the club use the photos as some of their new imagery online, knowing it would be a shame to just blur them and not have the world see the player’s personalities. As the team files out for the night, you stick around to help Keeley and the photographer pack up, wishing them a good night as you need a few things from your office before you head home. You think you’re the last one there until you hear a voice coming from the parking lot as you exit. Once you’re outside, you recognize the voice as Jamie’s with his distinct Mancunian accent. He appears to be on the phone but you can't make out anything he’s saying on the other side of the parking lot. Even from afar, you get the sense that it's not a pleasant conversation, so you linger by the door to give him some space. Luckily, Jamie’s hanging up with whoever it is a few seconds later, giving you the chance to resume your journey home. You try not to startle him as you get closer but you do anyway. You immediately apologize, letting him know you’re just passing by and you didn’t mean to sneak up on him.

“It's alright,” he assures, though he still seems a bit off, “Didn’t know anyone else was still here.”

“Just me,” you shrug. You know you shouldn’t say anything and just continue walking home, but you have to ask. “Is everything okay? I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping, but that phone call sounded tense and you look…unwell?”

Jamie eyes you like he’s trying to figure out what your angle is. You hurry to reassure him.

“I know we hardly know each other, so in no way do you owe me an explanation, but just figured I’d check in.” 

Jamie nods slowly. For a second you think he might share something with you, but instead he just lets out a quiet sigh, his shoulders sinking, “Nothing you need to worry about.”

You accept his answer and nod. You’re unsure of what to say next, or if you should say anything. You’re about to turn around and wish him a good night when he’s the one that speaks up. 

“So you and Sam seem quite close.” 

You turn back to him and narrow your eyes at him, “Yeah? He’s been showing me around the city.”

Jamie nods thoughtfully, “Are you two…,” your eyes narrow in a full squint as you cross your arms to egg him on, “Seeing each other?”

You can’t help but laugh. In no way were you expecting him to ask that. “Why do you care? Do you have a crush on Sam or something?”

Jamie’s face scrunches up, “No!”

“What then? You gonna tell me Sam’s nice-boy persona is actually an act and he’s secretly been plotting to murder me?”

“No, Sam really is that nice.” 

“Then why are you asking if I’m dating him?” 

“I’m just curious,” he spits out defensively, “Wasn’t sure if it was alright for players to hook up with the club’s employees or whatever.”

“Oh,” you lower your defenses for a second, “...So you have a crush on Beard then?”

Jamie’s defensive resolve melts away as he actually lets out a laugh at your teasing. “No he aint my type. Beard’s too scratchy.” 

You laugh along with him and enjoy that he played along. 

“Well then to answer your question, no Sam and I are not dating, we’re just friends. And no, I don’t think there’s technically any rule against any consensual mingling between the staff and you footballers.

“Hmm,” Jamie nods, his lip pouting a bit, “Good to know.”

“I’m glad to be of help, but I should get going,” you start walking backwards towards the parking lot’s exit, “But I’ll see you tomorrow I guess?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jamie steps towards you, “You’re just going to walk home alone? At night?” Jamie glances around and answers his own question when he doesn’t see another car in the lot besides his own. “Can I drive you?”

You shake your head assuredly, “Don’t worry about it. I walk home everyday. My place isn’t far.”

You can tell he wants to respect your answer, but asks one more time, “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you smile, “Have a good night, Jamie.” 

He gives you a small smile back, “You too.” 

You wave before shoving your hands in your coat pockets and take off down the road. When Jamie’s sports car drives past you, he honks the horn twice and you chuckle. 

During your short commute to your flat, you replay your interaction with Jamie. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to be like. While your conversation was brief, it seemed like he was a decent guy and that he had a sense of humor. The way his hair fell messily on either side of his face was nice, but that was neither here nor there. Maybe Sam was right. Jamie Tartt wasn’t so bad. 

A/N: mwahahahaha

[whimsical-roasting]

You reblogged that Sam gifs post and it reminded me of that headcanon i have of being Sam’s friend but you’re feisty and take no one’s shit. Like he’s always takes the high road and you’re like when they go low i go lowER. I would fight that Akufo dude for him no questions asked.

hi wifey <3 you are absolutely right!! i fucking love that idea of Sam having a bestie who'd throw hands for him.. it's on sight all the time.

special thanks to @sokkigarden for bouncing ideas off me, love you bby. okay, i wanna write about being friends w the AFC Richmond boys more, so if yall have ANY thoughts on being friends with ANY of the lads then send me requests on it so we can DISCUSS

OKAY BUT BEING BESTIES WITH SAM OBISANYA

he's such a wholesome and loyal friend... a breath of fresh air yknow?? Dani is more of that 'unconditional sunshine' energy, but Sam is positive whilst still keeping it real w you

and sooo you're hella loyal to him too. well, you're loyal to everyone you care about. you'd take a bullet for them, no questions asked, but probs a lot of cussing involved (same, but i'll come back to this)

sharing an airpod each if yall go out on a walk or join the team on a bus ride - if you're dating jamie then he NEEDS you next to him on the ride back, probs uses your shoulder to sleep on and has an arm around your waist so you can't leave, but that's a diff post ahahaha

having a shared spotify playlist that you both keep adding music too...the vibes are all over the place. "Y/N, I was trying to jam out to J.Cole, and then Adele came on??" "Oh yea, I was sad bout something earlier"

blanket forts and microwaveable caramel popcorn for when he's missing home

playing as him in FIFA when you're with the lads and yellin "YEA THATS MY BESTIE" every time you score as him

pinching his earlobes like his dad would for good luck on the days of a big match/when he's really nervous

since opening OLA'S, you join him when he attends small business owner conventions, but that's mainly to try the free food

since i'm vegetarian, telling him that his menu looks great but you can only stick to sumn like the jollof rice.. so next month when he invites you over to his restaurant for a catchup dinner there's a whole new lil section for vegetarian dishes on the menu (or whatever dietary inclusivr thingy etc.)

warning Sam about Afuko because "a man simply doesn't feed you pasta and lobster and send you a stack without something in mind" and him being like ??? what and you groan, "did you watch the tiktoks I sent you??"

hearing about how the Afuko rejection went and Sam only focusses on "he called me medium talent??" and you're SEETHING

you're like "what the living F U C K" and he's like "oh hey Y/N, don't worry, I know I am not medium talent" and you're like "what? no, shut up, obviously not, but that's not the POINT here. how did that ASSHOLE have the audacity to speak to you like that?!!"

you're searching up flights to Nigeria and opening a google map from the airport to Afuko's business residence or something, and Sam is like, "seriously, forget that guy. bullet dodged." and you're angrily muttering about how Afuko's gonna have to dodge the bazooka you're gonna smuggle onto the plane

"We cannot be best friends if you end up in jail because you tried to smuggle a bazooka onto the plane." "I just wanna talk to him...with a bazooka." "No." "Pleas-" "No."

telling Sam you might be getting feelings for Jamie and being nervous he'd be mad because of their relationship in S1, but you promise he's changed, and Sam is like, I know

wearing the Obisanya jersey and the rest of the boys are like 'hey why don't you ever support our merch' so like every match you're switching out jerseys before texting a pic to the groupchat

running into that Francis guy who's Afuko's right-hand man and "accidentally" stepping on his foot real hard like OOPS

giving him updates on your love life and vice versa. "Y/N, please tell me this one is not a loser." "Um, Sam, shut up; you know my rizz only seems to work on losers??" "hey, Jamie told me that telling a woman my favourite movie is Ratatouille is a bad idea... is it?" "just bake her a lasagna or something and say that's how you learnt to cook." "I am not doing that." "dammit, I thought we'd get lasagna for dinner"

doing random tiktok trends or challenges - the baking one where one person is blind, one is deaf, and one is mute, but they all gotta work together to bake a cake!! sam (tape around his mouth) x you (blindfolded) x jamie (loud ass headphones on)

jamie: pass the FOOKIN sugah!! *back turned to yall as he stirs the mix*

you: WHAT. WHERE. *randomly smacking shit, picking up the salt and dropping it on the counter and onto a spoon*

sam: mmmhnph! *waving his hands in your face like NO but you can't see*

you: *turning to jamie with a spoonful, which he probs tastes absentmindedly whilst stirring* OI TASTE THIS

jamie: FOOKS SAKE

[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.

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.4

A/n: I think there will be another part after this before the show starts and they will be getting together! I'm currently going through episode by episode and pulling out all the scenes I want to be a part of this. No promises that this won't get abandoned or take forever to write but I do have a mental endgame for it in s5!

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

WC: 871

Previous part - Next part

---

The peace of a still sleeping bunkhouse was disturbed by Rip rushing in and the loud bang of the door against the wall.  

“Lloyd, have you seen y/n?  She didn’t answer the door and the trailer’s locked,” he asked hurriedly scanning the bunkhouse, “Ryan why the fuck are you on the couch?”

Rip looked at the hand under the blankets and connected dots as Lloyd stirred from his own bunk to ask what was going on.  The foreman stormed into the other room to find exactly what he expected, y/n just waking up in Ryan’s bunk.  She rolled over and looked over up at him confused.

Y/n pulled herself up in the bed, “why are you shouting at 4 in the fuckin’ morning Rip?”

In lieu of an answer, he turned back around to where Ryan was waking up and hauled him to his feet to shove against the wall.  Suddenly everyone in the bunkhouse was awake and aware of what was going on.  They all surrounded the pair but nobody was about to get in the middle of whatever was going on, except y/n who was being kept from getting in between them by Jake.

“What the fuck is she doing in your bunk,” he growled.

Y/n shook Jake off her, “the hell Rip!  There’s no heat in the trailer and I was freezing my ass off in the barn so he insisted I come in here.  Stop being such an overprotective asshole!”

“If you even think about laying a finger on her in any capacity I’ll have them,” Rip threatened before releasing him and turned to the rest of them, “that goes for every one of you fuckers.  She’s off limits.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and headed out of the bunkhouse leaving the crew speechless.  Y/n turned to Ryan and checked that he was okay before storming after the foreman.

“What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing Rip!” She yelled at him, “you have no right to do that.”

Rip turned to glare at her, “he’s taking advantage of you.”

“Oh give me a break.  He was being a gentlemen which is more than can be said for most people in there.  I’m not a little girl that needs your protection anymore.  I can make my own decisions and I’m big enough to own my mistakes and Ryan certainly wouldn’t be one.  But I don’t think you need to worry, I’m hardly his first pick,” she finished bitterly.

Y/n went back to the bunkhouse in search of coffee, leaving Rip to wonder what on earth she had meant.

-/-/-

A few years later (like 6 months before the show starts)

After a long day of working the cattle for the spring gather, everyone from the valley was settled around the corral enjoying Gator’s cooking and each other’s company.  Y/n was sat to the side of the crowd having finished her food, just taking in the atmosphere of her favourite day of the year.  Gentle country music filled the air from a speaker Jamie had set up by the grill and some of the hands were showing kids how to rope on the dummy steer.  A smile graced her face as she watched Ryan and one of the newer hands, Colby who had become fast friends with him, helping a young girl swing the lasso above her head.

John watched his daughter from his seat next to Lee and how at peace she seemed with her life back on the ranch.  He picked up his beer and went to join her on the straw bale she’d claimed.  Y/n smiled at her father sat next to her before turning her attention back to the scene in front of her.  They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while, a significant improvement on how they’d been when she returned years ago.

“I think it’s time that we have our annual conversation,” John started, “even if nothing has changed.”

She took her eyes off the wranglers to look at her dad, “everything and nothing has changed dad.  I belong here again.  I finally feel like I’m part of it again.  But Kayce still isn’t here and I don’t see that ever changing.  I love you but you’re a stubborn man and lord knows my brother is too.”

“You set the terms but being back under the roof is where you belong,” he pushed.

Y/n allowed the silence to envelop them again as she thought through what was being put in front of her.  The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the valley.  The wranglers had left the kids to the roping in favour of beers by the fence and Ryan winked when they made eye contact.  

“I’ll come back,” she relented, “but you don’t get a say over what I do and when I’m there.  I’m still gonna spend time at the bunkhouse because at the end of the day I’m a wrangler and those are my friends.  It took long enough for them to see me as more than just your daughter and I don’t want them to see me differently again.”

John smiled at her, “I’m just happy you’ll be truly home.”

[tarttheart]

DESIGNATED DRIVER - JAMIE TARTT x YOU

summary: you spend a night out before Jamie picks you up and takes you home.

word count: 800+

warnings: language, alcohol consumption

It was Friday night. One of your good friends from work was leaving which could only mean it was going to be a long fucking night out on the town.

You messaged Jamie to let him know you would be home late and not to wait up because lord alone knew what time you would actually be done.

Jamie: text when you’re done yeh? I’ll come get ya

You: don’t worry about it, I’ll take a taxi.

You smiled and pocketed your phone appreciating the thought but not wanting to trouble your boyfriend who was going to be up at 4am to start his daily workout.

It was the third bar of the night and you were about nine drinks deep and making merry with your workmates. Everyone laughed at the odd tales another colleague’s girlfriend brought to the table and reminisced about all the crazy nights they had had prior to this one.

One more stop, one more stop. It was your last drink of the night and you watched on as the group played darts. It had been a long one and you were tired. What you would give to teleport home and snuggle up to Jamie. You smiled at the thought although you knew the last thing you wanted to do was wake him when you got into bed that night. Poor thing definitely needed his beauty sleep.

Jamie: surely you’re done soon?

You: go to sleep babe, I’ll be heading home soon.

Jamie: don’t move a fucking muscle, I’ll be there soon.

You supported one of your managers in his quest to stay upright while the rest of the group finished their game of darts before everyone made their way to the nearby kebab shop. While you were hungry, a kebab just did not seem appealing. There was no way you would feel comfortable taking a messy kebab into Jamie’s expensive car. Even though you knew he would tolerate it for you, you were also well aware that it would hurt his soul if you got anything dirty.

You stood with the group as everyone took their time finishing their kebabs on the side of the road.

“What are you waiting for?” One of them asked as you stood without any food and had made no effort to hail down a taxi yet.

“My boyfriend is coming to pick me.”

“Ooooooh,” one of your friends teased.

You blushed. While it was common knowledge that you had a boyfriend, his identity remained a mystery to most. He never joined the merriment given his strict workout regimen and you never brought it up because the last thing you wanted it to sound like was bragging. Yes, most of your mates were guys and they were not going to ask to be hooked up with a soccer player but it still was not something you were going to openly advertise.

“That’s a sick car,” one of the guys commented as the flashy car you know so well made its way down the street.

“Well, that’s my ride,” you said as casually as you could while waving Jamie down to the surprise of the group.

“Holy fucking shit,” another colleague swore, “is that Jamie Tartt?”

You got in and gave Jamie a little peck before waving your final goodbye to some of the shocked faces. You felt bad that one of your best friends from work was going to have to field the questions but not enough to dwell on it.

“Do you work with any girls?” Jamie asked and you knew it came from a place of curiosity and not jealousy. Okay, maybe a little bit of jealousy.

“I do, they’ve already left.”

“Right, right. Drank them under the table, did yeh? How much have you had to drink, love?”

You slowly counted up the rounds in your head before responding with a sheepish “11”.

Jamie shook his head and laughed. Your alcohol tolerance was one of those things that surprised most people and while you were slightly embarrassed by its implications, you were also proud of being able to hold your own in a male-dominated team. Being able to drink your weight in alcohol meant you had been quickly accepted as one of the team and it made a chunk of your job so much easier when you were able to become friendly with most of your colleagues over a pint or ten. Whether that was fair or not was debatable but you felt lucky to benefit from it.

Jamie grabbed the bottle of water in his console and forced it into your hands.

“Drink up, we don’t want you too hungover tomorrow.”

You nodded and took a big swig of water, enjoying how refreshing the plain beverage was after a night of alcohol.

“Missed you tonight,” you admitted.

Sure, it was fun having a big night out with good friends but it did not always measure up to cuddling with Jamie on the couch after dinner while you watched some TV.

“I missed you too, love,” he said, looking over with a smile as you watched him lovingly.

“Can’t wait to cuddle when we get home.”

“Me too.”

[melodramaschild]

Cigarettes out of the window- poly! marauders when you start overworking out to try and be prettier for them

Robie's funeral

𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖, 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏

Navigation || Age limit

Warnings: bulimia, body dysmorphia, slow burn, crying and bad mental health, negative self-talk, not happy ending, my writing, part 2 on its way

Let me know if I forgot anything

Words count: 2 299

Pairing: poly! Remus Lupin x James Potter x Sirius Black x fem!reader

Read me: If you see any mistakes, please let me know. English isn’t my first, not even second, language and reminding me of some mistakes would help a lot. Also, feel free to reblog.

A/N: please, don’t read this if you’re easily triggered about your eating disorder. Remember that this is not any motivation for you to start witch such a thing like this. I’m just writing the request. If you feel like you have problems with eating disorder, please reach out for help. || and I’m also sorry that I didn’t stick up with only reader who is overworking out.

My girl Y/n/n used to always smoke cigarettes when she couldn't sleep

You were sitting in the bath robe, hair hidden in a hair mask under a satin bonnet and tears slowly daring out. You needed to look pretty.

Covering yourself in another face mask, the liquid substance sticking on your skin and your fingers gently massaging it in.

That’s what you’ve been doing everyday for the last few weeks.

You stopped sneaking into your boyfriends’ room as you did every night, instead you were doing… whatever you want to call this. Let’s call it a bad habit of yours. A new bad habit.

(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

Instead you were falling asleep with loud thoughts and tears slowly staining your pillow. Your thoughts were cruel, mean, inexorable. Always telling you that their love is just a prank on you and if you really want to be lovable you need to be pretty, and that you weren’t pretty for love.

Late night heavy thoughts were replaced with James’ (and sometimes Sirius’) morning workout. Just typical cardio. Running on the Quidditch’s field as your lungs were always burning. That was the price of beauty.

“Are you alright, sweet cheek?” James asked between his own gasps as he saw you ‘I’m going to pass out any moment’ position. Hands on your knees, labored shallow breathing and tears burning in your eyes. “Y-yeah,” you breathed out, the breath burning your throat. “Just forgot how to breathe for a bit.” you tried to play it as a joke but James was still worried. “Alright, just catch me if you are too tired.” He leaned down to kiss your sweaty forehead and you couldn’t help but feel disgusting. And disgusted.

James kissed your sweaty forehead. Your ugly forehead where you didn’t practice your morning skin care routine. Your forehead that was now all scrunched up. Your fucking sweaty forehead that was dripping with sweat.

For you, it was derogatory now.

But for you in the past and for James, it was normal and a sign of love. James didn’t care how sweaty you were and how you looked. He loved you whole with his whole huge heart, no matter what. And for you in the past, it would mean the same.

“Do you fancy a shower with me?” James smirked at you towards the shower. It was something you used to do after his games. All four of you. Take a shower where you and Remus pampered James and Sirius. Massaging their scalps and planting small kisses all over each other.

It was something you used to do with James after his training. Taking a quick shower with him, which always turned into a water fight. No one was happy because of that mess afterwards.

And normally you would fancy a shower with James. But the person was no longer in you. You needed to be pretty to have a fancy shower. Anyway, you used trips to bathroom for a different reasons now too.

“No, thank you, Jamie.” you gave him your apology and before he could say something, you ran away to take your own shower.

To wash out the sweat and scrub your whole body to have the smoothest skin in the whole United Kingdom. To have smooth skin like those girls you read about it fan-fictions.

She'd disappear for an hour and a half and when she'd come back she'd brush her teeth

And that went day after day. Meeting James on the morning run and then Sirius on the evening run. Meeting Remus on the afternoon study because no one would date a stupid girl.

“Are you alright?” Remus asked you when he noticed that you’re not there in spirit. You didn’t answer, he reached out his hand, the back of it stroking the side of your shoulder.

“Mhm,” you hummed, only because you heard some noises. Remus sighed, sadness washing over him as he realised that no matter what was happening, he was slowly losing you. They, they were slowly losing you.

He leaned a bit closer to you, his warm fingers hooking under your chin, your eyes locking with his amber eyes. The golden hour played with his hair and eyes, making him look like a fallen angel. So pretty.

And so pretty, but not for you.

“Talk to me, pretty girl.” he said, softly. “Why don’t you talk to me?” His lips turned into one of his sweet smiles. “Talk to me, like you used to.” His fingers found their way to stroke your cold cheek. “So, are you alright?” he raised his eyebrows at you. In his face there was no taunt or mockery, just a lust for knowing what’s really bothering you. There was a worry written in his face.

You opened your mouth but all you could do was to choke on your words. Your lower lip started to wobble and you couldn’t fill your lungs with oxygen.

“N-no.” you squeaked before completely fondling yourself into Remus’ open arms.

No.

Just a simple one word, one sentence that was telling him a whole story. Remus pulled you closer to him, and closer, and closer until you were curled up in his lap. Your arms wrapping around his neck like you’re drowning and he was your saving buoy.

Painful and heart wrecking sobs were escaping your throat and your salty tears were drenching his jumper. But all he ever wanted was you to know that it’s okay. That you could ruin every jumper he owned with your tears if that would cure you.

His warm hands were traveling from your shoulder blades to your lower back, rubbing your loins as he knew that they would hurt you.

His warm and soft hands, on your tender shaking back.

“Shh,” he whispered oh so quietly. “Is going to be alright, darling.” He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting his own tears not to escape in front of you.

“It’s not, it’s not going to be okay.” you sobbed and clutched on his tall figure.

“No no, don’t say that, sweet girl,” he shook his head and a first tear slipped from his closed eyes, running down his cheek and burning on his fresh unhealed scar. “It is going to be okay, alright?” he placed a kiss on the top of your head. He didn’t give you a chance to argue with him before he pleaded: “Look at me,” his voice was desperate. Just like his hands prying your face from his neck.

Remus cupped your face, seeing tears streaming down your face and your lips being curled up in a painful twist. If the room was silent, you could hear Remus’ heart shattering into billion tiny pieces.

“We are going to solve this out, alright?” He looked at you through his light lashes. “You and me,” he continued. “You and me and Jamie and Sirius, okay? We’re not going to let you be alone for this.” Remus promised.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him, nor even nod, all you could do was to hide in his body again and cry into his jumper.

But I could still smell it on her raggedy teeth

Sirius was playing with Padfoot’s tennis ball, throwing it into the air, trying to reach the ceiling. His eyebrows were knitted together in an intended look.

“I think something’s wrong.” he murmured out of nowhere.

“Wacha mean by that?” Remus looked up from his book, The Shining, still smelling new. “Look at it, mate,” Sirius sat up on his bed, spreading his arms around. “Y/n/n is not here.”

Remus and James glared at him, their faces telling that they already noticed.

“I mean,” Sirius started. “She was there,” he looked at his other boyfriend. “and suddenly she’s not here. Only meeting up with me on my afternoon run and-”

“What did ya say?” James interrupted him and titled his head.

“What?”

“”Bout that run, say it again.”

Sirius blinked at him a few times, completely confused just like every time in position class. Marauders talked about everything. Remus, Sirius and James especially as they all had the love bond. They talked about Quidditch, they talked about studying, they talked about why James ate cheese again when he’s lactose intolerant, they talked about their breathtaking girlfriend. They talked about what to do for the big anniversary, where to take you and if you would fancy a trip to Edinburg… but for some reason they never talked about how you’re sticking up with them through the day.

“She is running with me on afternoon runs,” Sirius nervously chuckled. “What’s wrong with that?” he asked.

The thing about Sirius’ run was… Let’s say that Sirius found a healthy coping mechanism for him. But what was saving him was something that was killing you.

James stood there, blankly staring into the space.

“James, what’s happening?” Remus crawled at the end of the bed to his boyfriend. James didn’t hear him, the ringing was way too loud in his ears, like hundreds of mosquitoes attacking his brain, only experiencing this feeling when he got overwhelmed with the whole world.

Remus reached out for his hand and tucked on his fingers. “Darling boy,” he looked up at him. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” Remus pleaded.

“Y/n/n was on a run with me this morning.” James started. “And yesterday’s morning too.” he breathed in. “And the previous morning too, and that morning too,” he wanted to continue but his voice disappeared into the air as his brain started working with puzzles.

“She was with me yesterday’s afternoon too, and the previous too.” Sirius added, slowly catching in.

“That’s… too much,” James whispered. “And then… I didn’t see her at breakfast. Not for the last few weeks.” James started thinking out loud.

“Oh c’mon, mate, she said she is getting nauseous from breakfast.” Sirius waved in front of him, completely believing your explanation.

But Remus understood. Way more quickly then he would want to.

The way he saw you getting more and more exhausted everyday, the way you excused yourself for bathroom breaks after everything you ate, the way you kept sipping on your water without even reminding. Something was awfully wrong.

“Fuck,” Remus breathed out when he realised. “What?” Sirius and James glared at him.

“Did you notice any suspicious behavior in her?” He asked, quickly opening his bedside table and grabbing his notes and pen, scrambling something down.

“Mmm,” James thought. “Lot’s of drinking?” Sirius brought that up. “Like she is able to drink a whole liter on our afternoon run. Which is weird, she used to drink a whole liter throughout the day, not an hour.”

Remus wrote that piece down, doing his math. It would make sense, it was after lunch and running made you nauseous too anyway. The perfect opportunity.

“Anything other?” He asked.

“Well, for me, it’s not spending time with us. It’s been weeks since we had a sleepover. And sometimes, I see her on a map sneaking into Hogsmeade and always coming back with bags of something.” James added.

“Mhm,” Remus nodded. “That’s really… new and odd.”

“Remus what are you doing?” Sirius asked, trying to sneak glances behind his shoulder.

“Thinking, it’s a very helpful thing.” Remus snearled.

After a few minutes, Remus was done, pinching the bridge of his nose as he was the one wearing glasses.

“I… I’m only assuming, but,” Remus took a deep breath. “It’s obvious Y/n has a problem. On that list there can be issues with food consumption and weight loss. Maybe some shopaholic tendencies too.” He read you out like a book

“But what does she buy?” James asked.

“Maybe… I don’t know.” Remus shook his head.

“So, when are we going to talk to her?” Sirius mumbled, his legs bouncing as his thoughts swirled in his mind. Another fake scenario is coming up about you.

“What time is it?” James asked. “Around 16, do you have any idea where she is?” Remus looked at his boyfriends. “Probably at her place.” They looked at each other, communicating through eyes and suddenly it all clicked. They all got up, ruffling their bed sheets.

They all reached their stairs but Remus stopped, turning around and running back. “Rem! What are you doing? We are running out of time!” Sirius shouted. “Shut up!” Remus barked and ran to his drawer. Ruffling it all over until he found the thing he got back for. Your (his) comfort (not his comfort) sweater. Remus quickly changed it and tidied it up with his fingers. It was a forest sweater with light and red stripes, it was a bit itchy on his skin and people sometimes mocked him for it, but he swore to the Lord that it was a magnet on you. Every time he wore it, you were glued to him for the whole day, always nuzzling your cheek into his chest and always holding him so close.

“Really? You had to change right now?” Sirius chuckled. “You don’t get it.” Remus rolled his eyes.

They ran into your place, knocking on your door and deciding to come in when no one answered.

Maybe you were just taking a nap, listening to some music or forgot to close the door.

However and whatever, they expected everything, but none of them wanted to believe that they would see their girlfriend coming from her bathroom, wiping her mouth into her sleeve that was covered in… god knows stuff. With puffy lips and eyes stained red, looking like she committed the biggest crime ever.

“Loves,” you did hoarse, your throat still burning up.

“What-” Sirius started, shaking his head as everyone had their eyes glued on you, shocked and scared expressions on their faces.

“What have you done…?”

[lupiningwolves]

title | daddy!james

summary: you‘re sick and use james‘ real title the first time

warnings: sickness, fever, age regression, daddy!james x little!reader, not proofread

james and you had been together for a while now. more than that, he had been your daddy, or at least did the job of one. you hasn’t called him that word yet, too shy to do so and he never referred to him as such.

„jamie?“ it was the name you had for him. he loved it, it sounded cute coming from your mouth while you were using his thumb as a paci or while he tickled you so hard that you could hardly breath due to the hard laughing.

the smile he carried while walking up to your dorm faded when he saw the state you were in. tears brimmed in your eyes, you were wrapped closely in your blanket and still shivering and your face was pale. „oh, baby“, he mumbled and sat down besides you. you sniffed and the tears began to wet your cheeks. „hey, hey, no need for those. what’s going on, hm?“

„‘m so cold, jamie. ‘n i don’t feel so good“, you answered in a whiny voice. „make it better, please.“

„i will, flower. i‘ll get the thermometer and make you a tea. gonna be right back.“ he kissed your cheek and left the room quickly.

on the way he passed remus and sirius, who offered to make the tea and bring it up to your room. in no time, he was back with you, but you were asleep, the blanket now completely off of your body. he gently put it back up to you chin and let you sleep peacefully while he did some homework.

not even an hour later, soft cries echoed in the room making him turn around to you. „oh, angel, it’s okay, i‘m here.“ james sat down next to you and put the mug with the still warm tea up to your mouth. „drink a bit, it will make you feel better.“

„fank you“, you mumbled and cuddled up against him. he then held the thermometer up, whereupon you automatically opened your mouth. james let out a worried sigh when it began peeping.

„flower, you’re burning. i‘ll send sirius and remus to get you something from madam pomfrey, then you’ll be better in no time.“

he was about to stand up, but you grasped at his flannel, which he had on top of a simple white t-shirt, with little strength. „don‘ weave, daddy.“

james‘ heart swelled. „i won’t m, flower. daddy’s gonna stay right here.“ it was the first time you had called him that, also the first time he had referred to himself as that. he sent a quick message to sirius, saying that his two friends had to go to the nurse for him. „what do you say we read a book, hm? which one do you want?“

after some time, remus and sirius came into the girl‘s dorm. „hey, bub, how are you?“, remus asked.

„‘m otay“, you answered and snuggled more against your daddy as a wave of coldness washed over you.

„i think this should help“, he said grinning and handed you a chocolate bar.

your eyes lit up as soon as you realised what it was. „fank you, remmy!“

james opened it, held it out, but didn’t give it to you. „first, you gotta drink this, okay, flower? then you can have the chocolate.“ he gave you a small potion first, which you eyed suspiciously. you hated taking medicine, but if it meant getting chocolate in return, you’d do anything.

„otay.“ you did like you were told and happily took a bite from the chocolate after it. the boys talked a bit, but when you finished your treat, you pushed the blanket away and whined into james‘ chest. „warm, daddy.“

„i‘m gonna get you something.“ he stood up and went to the bathroom, his friends following soon. „what?“, james asked, letting the cold water drench a cloth, when he saw his friends with a wide grin.

„you know what’s going on“, sirius said. „what she called you.“

james smiled just as wide. „i know. she’s a real angel.“

„we’re happy for you“, remus said as well. well, we‘ll be gone.“

„thanks for your help.“ he walked out right after them, grabbing a stuffie on the way.

he halted when he saw you, curled up in your blanket and shivering. „daddy, quick, ‘m cold.“

[its-time-to-write]

can i request a continuation of the jamie x kent!reader baby fever fic where they actually have a kid? the best friend’s sister trope is one of my favs and i literally eat up anything you write🤍

I had some down time today, so I wrote a little thing for this! It probably makes more sense if you read the other fics in this Kent! reader universe. Here’s a list:

take your time while you’re mine

would it be enough if i never gave you peace

let’s fall in love for the night

Thanks for requesting!!

here in my arms

Roy is holding the tiniest baby he’s ever seen. 

“There’s no way I was ever that small,” Phoebe whispers from the couch next to him, and Roy agrees. Surely Phoebe was bigger than this little bundle he’s looking at. 

“Cute little lad, ain’t he?” Jamie says from the other couch. 

Roy’s not sure what to say because on the one hand, he doesn’t want to explicitly agree with something Jamie’s said but on the other hand… this kid’s fucking adorable. 

“Jamie,” calls your voice from upstairs.

“Coming!” he replies. “You’re good here, yeah Roy?”

Roy scoffs. Is he good here. He’s Uncle fucking Roy. He’s a pro.

“Right, I’ll take that as a yes then,” Jamie says. “Food should be here in an hour. If me ’n the missus ain’t awake by then, just let us be. We don’t need food.” He gets halfway out the room before he stops and asks, “You’re sure you’re good here?”

This time, Roy fully rolls his eyes. “Fuck off, Tartt. Go get some sleep before my sister fucking murders you.”

Jamie says, “Right,” salutes to Phoebe, then turns on his heel to head upstairs to your bedroom. He shuts the door behind him and slips under the covers. The curtains are pulled, and it’s dark in the room despite the fact that it’s only the middle of the morning.

You’re barely awake, but you’ve tried your best to stay conscious until Jamie got there. You wiggle close to him and let him pull you into his arms.

“Kid’s fucking great, huh?” he whispers into your hair.

“Hm,” you agree.

“Mum said she’ll be down in a coupla days to help out. Simon’s coming too. Is that alright?”

“Don’t care,” you say. “I need sleep, babe. Kid’s seven days old and I am already wiped out. How’m I supposed to do this for eighteen years?”

Jamie’s rubbing circles on your back, and the only thing keeping you from sleep is the thought that you might not be cut out to be a mother.

“You’ve got me,” he says. “You’re not alone, babe, plus Phoebe can babysit in another three years.”

“I am not leaving George with a thirteen-year old,” you reply. “Nothing against Phoebs, but I can barely leave him with my brother right now without worrying about him. I just wish Molly weren’t so busy because I really, really need her right now.”

A tear leaks out of your eye onto Jamie’s shirt, but he doesn’t care. “It’s alright, babe,” he says, “swear down. Mum’s a fuckin’ genius with babies. She raised me, didn’t she? And I was a fucking handful.”

That just makes you cry even harder. “I want my mum, Jamie. Why did she have to go? I wish- I wish she and dad didn’t leave us. She’s supposed to be here, supposed to help with George and hold my hand and tell me I was the exact same when I was a baby but no she and dad had to fuck off to Paris or something stupid when I was two and leave me and Molly with our cousins! It’s shit. How can you just walk out on your own kids?”

Jamie kisses your forehead and says, “Oi, look. You’re already miles better at being a mum because you’re never going to walk out on George. And mum loves you, mostly because you make sure I eat real food, but she’ll stay as long as you need. I’m off training for another week, besides. Don’t have to go back just yet.”

You sniffle. “I should’ve had him during the off season.”

“Oh yeah, because we planned George’s conception all proper-like,” Jamie retorts.

You’re silent and for a moment he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, except you shudder once, so he knows you’re still crying. Jamie holds you as tight as he can, at a loss for words. He’s pretty sure you’re just tired with fucked-up hormones and that either Molly or his mum knows how to handle this, but for now he’s at a loss for a solution. He’s trying to think of something to say when you beat him to it.

“Do you think his middle name’s dumb?”

That is certainly not what he expected to hear. “Fuck no,” he replies. “George Kent Tartt? Kid’s going places with a name like that.”

You sigh. “He’s gonna fucking hate us for that. Shit, we should’ve done something normal.”

“How the fuck is ‘Kent,’ not normal? Y’know what’s mental? The fact that me mum named me ‘James Tartt.’ Come on, babe. Jam Tart? That’s all I ever got called in primary school.”

“I did veto a lot of your choices,” you murmur.

Jamie shakes his head. “You did, didn’t you? Shame. Kid could’ve been named ‘Apple Tartt.’ He’d’ve fucking loved that.”

“For sure,” you agree. Jamie’s glad to hear that your voice is returning to its normal, sleepy state so he tries to stay as still as possible. Sure enough, you emit a small snore less than a minute later. Jamie smiles to himself and closes his eyes. He thinks he can hear Roy saying something to George and/or Phoebe, so he lets himself drift off with you.