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bloatedandalone04 · 8 months

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The Perks

➪the one where you get to experience all the perks that come with being james’ wife and biggest supporter.

Warnings: smut, fluff, oral (f receiving), semi-public smut, swearing, hair pulling

Word Count: 1.8k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

It was nearing one in the afternoon when you arrived at J Kelly Auto, a takeout bag in hand and a dumb smile on your face as you waved at one of the mechanics. You walk past the garage and pull open the door to the lobby part of the building, your smile growing when you catch sight of James.

He was leaning against the front of the desk, his arm crossed over his chest as he listened to someone on the phone. The arms of his work jumpsuit were tied around his waist, his toned biceps on full display as the white muscle tee he wore under it did nothing to hide them. His various tattoos were on full display as well and your eyes trail over every one of them as you waited for him to be done with the call.

His shirt was stained with oil already, despite you spending more than half an hour the previous night trying to get it clean again once he came home smelling like motor oil and cigarettes.

James slumped back a bit more as the person rambled on, but as his gaze swept around the room before landing on you, he stood up again. “Hi,” he mouthed, grinning over at you while you swayed on your heels by the door. “Uh huh. Well, what you can do right now is bring it in and we’ll see if we have the parts you need. If we don’t, I’ll send in an order for them. Alright, no problem. See you soon.”

He reached behind him and set the phone down before reaching out to you, his hands finding their home on your waist once you were standing in front of him. “Hi,” you greet him with a small smile, kissing him quickly afterwards.

“Hi, baby,” he said back, bunching up the fabric of your dress as he pulled you a bit closer. “You look pretty.”

You smile at him, sliding your free hand up his arm until your fingers are able to wrap less than halfway around his bicep. “Thanks, Jamie,” you blush under his gaze as you look around the near-empty room. “Slow day?”

“If by slow day you mean we’ve had three customers today, then yeah, it’s a slow day,” he answered, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling your body up against his. His eyes raked downwards, pausing at your somewhat exposed chest before going further. You knew what you were doing when you chose to wear your white sundress with the small blue flowers that matched his eye color almost perfectly. It never failed to drive him crazy, and you could tell he was holding himself back right now.

While he was pretty into PDA, James still didn’t want the few customers in the lobby to witness his inability of keeping his hands to himself whenever you are around. “I brought you lunch,” you tell him and hold the bag up, the logo of his favorite fast food place making him smile.

“You brought me lunch?” He teased, trailing his hands lower down your back.

You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and standing on the tips of your toes to be able to kiss him. He pulled you closer to him and tried to deepen the kiss, making you laugh at the way his lips chased yours. “I did,”

“You’re too good to me,” he mumbles, kissing you again quickly.

Laughing, you pull away and hold up the bag again. “I’m just proud of you,” he smiles at your words, taking it from you. “Always.”

“Thanks, baby,” he murmured, taking your left hand in his free one. His thumb turned your rings as he added, “Now I’m starving.”

You perk up at that, “Oh, good, because I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten or not-”

The shaking of his head made your words die on your tongue, and you watched as he looked around before walking backwards to the office door, pulling you with him as he went. “I’m not hungry for food,”

You get the hint pretty much instantly, a blush taking over your face as you glance back at the customers who seemed to have no idea of the words that were being exchanged between you and James. “Right now? Here?”

James pulled you into the office that was labeled as his own before closing and locking the door. “Right now,” he confirmed, shutting the blinds on the doors window and setting the fast food bag onto the table next to it before making his way over to you in three strides. His hands grab hold of your hips and he pushes you against the side of the desk, his fingers bunching up the fabric of your dress as he sinks to his knees. “Here.”

Your eyes widen as he pulls down your panties with one quick tug before he wraps his lips around your clit. “Oh, my God,” you gasp as he sucks on your bundle of nerves harshly. “Jesus, do you have any self control at all?”

James smirks up at you with a shrug, “Not when it comes to you,” he answered, nudging your right thigh to rest on his shoulder as he licked a stripe up your folds. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your engagement ring and wedding band being barely visible in the dark strands.

“You’re on the clock, Jamie,” you point out in a breathless tone. “This is what you’re getting paid for?”

He raised his brow at you as he used the tattooed fingers of his free hand to gently split your slick entrance. “I think you’re forgetting that I’m my own boss,” he rasped, slowly fucking his index and middle fingers into you.

You whine a bit as you grip the edge of the desk. “How could I ever forget that?” You ask, biting down harshly on your lip to stifle the loud moan that threatened to escape you. “Don’t you know how proud I am of you?”

James nodded, kissing your inner thigh as he fucked his digits into you. “Of course I do,” he answered. “You tell me it everyday.”

“Because it’s true,” you whisper then moan. “Jamie.”

“I know,” he hummed, staring up at you with dark blue eyes. You didn’t need much of a build up for you to be ready to fall apart for him, and he knew this. The way you were helplessly clenching around his fingers told him all he needed to know, and he sped up a bit, making sure to brush his thumb against your clit with every thrust of his hand. “My wife is the prettiest thing in the world.”

His compliment makes your face flush as you grip onto the hair on the back of his head, squeezing your eyes shut. “Fuck,” he knew what he does to you, and you didn’t have to open your eyes to know he is smirking. “James.”

Your voice held a sense of warning, but he didn’t need to hear it to know that you are close. After being together for nearly six years and married for just under one, you and James knew each other like the backs of your hands. “I know,” he repeated his previous words, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue as you squirmed against him.

Your walls clenched around his fingers and your stomach flexed as you felt the knot begin to steadily form. “Oh, God,” you murmur, not wanting to be too loud since he still had customers in the other room.

James looked effortlessly hot right now, with his face buried against you, his fingers deep inside you and his movements slow. He wasn’t rushing even though he is currently at work and will probably be needed soon by one of the other mechanics. He was taking his time with you, getting you off slowly in the way he knows you love.

You reach down and brush your thumb against his cheek, wiping away the smudge of dirt and oil that had collected there since he started his shift. “If you think I’m pretty,” you struggle to say as he curls his fingers, the tips brushing against your sweet spot. “You must have no idea how perfect you are, Jamie.”

He shook his head, pulling away from you but keeping his fingers deep within you. “I’m not the perfect one, baby,” he brushes you off, but all you could focus on was the wetness that coated his lips and chin. “You’re so fucking perfect, and you’re all mine.”

You moan and grip his hair again, making him grin up at you as he raises his left hand.

“I made sure of that,” he added, wiggling his fingers and showing off his wedding band.

“James,” you gasped loudly, feeling the knot tighten even more. He just shook his head and wrapped his mouth around your clit again, sucking the bud harshly. You buck against him and push him closer to you with your foot on his back. “I’m close.”

You lean further back on the desk and accidentally knock over the lamp that was sitting on it. James didn’t seem to care at all about the well-being of it as he just pulled your body closer to him as his fingers inched even deeper in you. “I know, pretty girl,” he rasped, quickening the pace of his hand in a way that had you gripping onto him with everything you had in you as you felt your walls spasm. “I want you to come for me. All over my hand.”

His words make your head spin as you writhe against him before the knot unravels. You moan rather loudly as you come on his fingers and then again when you saw the wetness that dripped down his hand as he fucked you through your high. “Fuck, fuck,” you whimper and watch as he slowly pulls his fingers out and kept eye contact with you when he brought them up to his mouth and licked them clean. “Fuck, James.”

He grins up at you before standing to his full height and walking over to the door. “You okay?” He asks over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you say as you try to control your breathing. “Give me a sec and I’ll get you off, too.”

James just waved you off as he grabbed the takeout bag before walking back over to the desk and sitting down on the chair. “Don’t worry about it, baby,”

You watch with wide eyes as he pats his thigh and opens the bag, a surprised laugh escaping you. “You’re eating right now?”

He shrugged as he reached over and wrapped his arm around your middle, pulling you onto his lap as he leaned back. “That was a lot of work,” he teased, giving you a chaste kiss before reaching into the bag. “Let me get my strength back and then we’ll talk about you getting me off.”

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chasingthestarss · 3 months

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July 2- Doctor @jegulus-microfic wc: 335

James Potter had never felt better.

Regulus was wrong.

James was not sick. He was never sick.

Regulus just didn’t know what he was talking about.

Sure breathing may hurt a little bit and he may be a little fatigued but, in the long run, that was nothing. James really could feel worse. But he doesn’t. He feels fine.

So Regulus needed to stop treating him like a baby and let him play in the quidditch match tonight. He didn’t need to see Pomfrey, he needed to play quidditch.

“You need to see a doctor!” Regulus exclaimed after James coughed for the third time that same minute.

“Reggie, I’m fine! I have a match in an hour. I’ll go see Pomfrey after, if you’re that concerned!” James argued.

“I want you to go before the match! She’ll tell you not to play!” Regulus responded resolutely.

“I’m perfectly fine! She would let me play!” James grumbled.

“So then there is no reason for you to not go. If she will clear you anyway then you have no reason to worry,” Regulus countered.

James looked at Regulus, preparing a retort. But he fell short. Honestly, he felt like shit. Sure his team was relying on him but they could live without him for one game.

And Regulus was always so soft when he was sick. He took care of James and was so so lovely. So really he would be winning tonight regardless of it was in the pitch or in his room.

“I don’t wanna go to Pomfrey,” James started.

“But,” James held his hand up to cut Regulus off.

“But, I’ll let you be my doctor. No quidditch, but you have to take care of me,” James offered.

“Oh, I’d take care of you any day Jamie,” Regulus smiled softly.

“Now give me a kiss,” James demanded.

“Hell no, you’re sick. I have a match next week!” Regulus responded.

(For anyone wondering Regulus did give James a kiss and he did in fact get sick)

#marauders era #dead gay wizards #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #jegulusmicrofic #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus ficlet #maviswritesjegulus

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charlottes-diary-entries · 5 months

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Hellllo! Could you possibly write a ploy! marauders x reader who just got a new piercing? Like maybe they keep accidentally hitting it and like to help clean it :))

"fresh wounds"

eeeee!! my first ask, thank you so much lovely! hope you enjoy <3

You yelped a little as Sirius brushed your hair back, before leaning forward to press a butterfly kiss to your ear, right above one of your brand new piercings.

“Sorry Dove, didn’t mean to snag it,”

“S’alright Sirius, I know.”

“Are you torturing my poor, healing darling?” James accused, squeezing your hand and he frowned from his place sat in front of you. Even if you couldn't see it, you could practically feel Sirius roll his eyes.

"They're fine, Prongs," he drawled, continuing his expert work of plaiting your hair, "A helix piercing isn't going to kill 'em."

James's frown only deepened before he pressed his forehead against yours, whispering conspiratorially, "You'll tell me if he's being too rough. Just 'cause he's got a million piercings and twice as many infections, doesn't mean you have to as well."

You giggled, whispering a quiet, "I will," as Sirius scowled.

"I heard that, you prick. I'll have you know, only one of my piercings has been infected-"

At this James gasped, pulling you fully away from Sirius and into his arms, staring at him in scandal. "So, you ARE diseased! You're going to ruin their healing process-"

"No, I'm not, you idiot-"

"Yes, you are-"

"Alright, leave it you two."

You giggled as Remus pulled you to your feet while simultaneously ending the boys' playful spat. He tucked a few loose pieces of hair behind your ears, inspecting the tops which were now adorned with little silver balls. He hummed, stroking his thumbs across your cheekbones as he held your face.

"Do they hurt, Dove?"

"Not more than normal," You smiled, melting into his warm presence, "They'll be fully healed soon enough."

"That's good. They look a little red, maybe we should clean them before we leave?"

"I helped them clean them before I did their hair," Sirius replied, standing as well to snag an arm around your waist and press yet another kiss to your ear. "Saline and all, no need to worry. Not to mention they won't stop twisting 'em."

Remus relaxed and smiled at you, softly saying, "That's alright then."

This in turn made you grin and flush slightly, going to tuck your hair behind your ear again. However, you winced as you caught the piercing, cupping your ear and hissing at the rush of pain. This made James shoot to his feet, grabbing your wrist and searching your face.

"Are you okay?' He asked, worry pooling in his eyes as you smiled again, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. When you leaned back, he seemed a little dazed, making you giggle as you stroked his cheek.

"I'm perfectly alright, Jamie. 'Specially when I've got you lot to take care of me."

This made him grin, pressing a fast kiss to your lips, before sharing very sweet ones with Remus and Sirius as well. Sirius smirked a little, chasing James's lips as he pulled back. He then pressed a teasing kiss to Sirius's nose before strutting towards the door, his smile blinding.

"You're so right, Dovey. Nothing's going to happen to you with us around, that's for sure."

hope this is good lovely!! plus, gave me a few ideas for some other drabbles, so thank you so much lol

#poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x reader #marauders x reader #marauders reader insert

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

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hi there! (ok FIRST AND FOREMOST i need to tell you that i am obsessed with your writing. you are by far my favorite jamie tartt writer, you characterize him perfectly and nail his speech mannerisms! not an easy feat! so thank u for writing what you do and for sharing it with us!!!! <333333 ok now that i've gotten that off my chest) if you're taking requests right now i'd love to see your take on a (slowburn?) enemies to lovers fic with jamie!!

I don’t know why I take simple little prompts and turn them into angsty monstrosities. This one makes up for the lack of plot in my other fics, and I’d like to apologize in advance😬

Oh also I am the queen of commas, in case you didn’t know 😇😇

flipped the script

It cannot be considered murder if you’re provoked. It would be considered doing the world a favor.

And by god, you are going to fucking murder Jamie Tartt.

He does absolutely fucking nothing but make your life fucking miserable and you’re fucking losing it.

The only thing you’d agree on is when it started. It was 4am and he was yelling at someone called Roy and you had to be awake in two hours for a fucking conference, and you’d only just fallen asleep at 1am.

So you marched out of your house to the sidewalk where your prick neighbor was arguing with his prick coach and told him to shut the fuck up or I’m calling the police.

He opened his mouth to retort, changed his mind, then made a snide comment about your choice of outfit while you glared at him. His prick coach had the decency to apologize and smack Jamie on the head, so you said, “You’re fine, Roy, I’ll see you at work next week,” and Roy said, “Ah shit, you have that fucking conference, yeah?” and you said yeah then flipped off Jamie as you walked away.

You really hadn’t had many interactions with Jamie before, but you knew him before you started your job as an administrative assistant for AFC Richmond since you were, after all, living right next to each other.

Your last job had paid incredibly well; you were basically the go-to girl for your last company for two and half years. You compiled all relevant information from the day and presented to your boss so he would be caught up on the company’s inner workings. You were observant when it came to valuable (or toxic) employees, and had gained a reputation for being an invaluable asset.

But your old boss was retiring and you were ready for something new, so you began looking around. You found a job at AFC Richmond, assisting a Mr. Higgins and just generally making sure his job ran smoothly so the club could run smoothly.

It was mostly paperwork, but you enjoyed it. You collected data from all different departments and then ran it by Higgins and Ms. Welton. You weren’t above coffee runs; it was nice to get out sometimes and Ms. Welton would put your coffee on her bill. You got to take your lunch breaks with them and talk and laugh, and be appreciated, which is something you didn’t often get.

The nature of your job demands a certain level of… professionalism, shall we say, which can be misconstrued as coldness. You’re not. You’re just young and trying to be taken seriously, which is why it’s nice to be known both in a personal and professional capacity by Higgins and Ms. Welton. Higgins has even invited you over for family dinner and you’d invited his family over to yours. His boys had absolutely lost their minds at the amount of nerf guns you had stashed in each room, courtesy of your brother who often liked to drop by unannounced when he knew you were home and get you in the back of the head. Sometimes you regretted giving him a key, but not enough to take it back.

All that to say, it was a relatively seamless transition to AFC Richmond. You and Jamie would exchange a neighborly nod if you saw each other, but that was absolutely it.

—

The next incident is, uh, kind of your fault.

Remember the brother-and-nerf-guns thing?

Yeah.

Your brother had sneaked over on a Sunday (parked around the corner so his car wouldn’t be seen on your security cameras) and you were chasing each other around the house. Your sister-in-law had warned you he was coming over (he asked her to drive him), so you were prepared and hiding in the bushes. He was nonchalantly walking on the sidewalk, hands in his hoodie, when you popped out and got him right in the chest then booked it into your house, which led to a solid fifteen minutes of running and yelling, with the occasional, “Ow, you jerk!” that siblings are always saying but never really mean.

The incident occurs when you’re once again in your front yard running from your brother. You look back to assess how far away he is when smack, you run into someone and feel their beverage go flying.

It’s Jamie, and his bright pink drink is now all over his clean white hoodie.

You both stop and glare at each other.

You had stopped feigning civility after the 4am thing, so the glare is standard procedure.

Jamie says, “What the fuck?” as your brother comes careening to an abrupt halt.

You’re still glaring. “Why are asking me ‘what the fuck?’ You’re the one walking around here with that fucking awful drink that’s probably going to kill your internal organs. I mean seriously, it cannot be safe to consume something that bright.”

“Says the girl who’s addicted to diet soda.”

“Says the girl who’s fucking pissed that her sidewalk is stained fucking bright pink. How the fuck am I supposed to clean this?”

Jamie’s face is red now, and yours is too.

“A), it’s a fucking public sidewalk and b), what about my fucking sweatshirt? This cost more than your shitty car!” he shoots back, and that’s the moment a line is crossed.

“We live in the same goddamn neighborhood,” you hiss, “so shut the fuck up with your stupid elitist footballer bullshit.”

“Oi, at least I’m not a fucking stuck-up, self-righteous big-shot with no friends!”

You’re not sure what would have happened next because your brother grabs you by the arm and hauls you back inside, waving apologetically to Jamie. All the fight goes out of you as soon as the door shuts.

“What the ever-loving hell was that?” he asks. He never did like using the word “fuck.”

—

What the ever-loving hell was that? Well, it’s actually quite simple. In the seven months you’ve been at Richmond, you haven’t really made any friends.

Yes, you have Ms. Welton and Higgins, but that’s not the same as having people the same age as you to go out with and watch movies and drink and dance and just be stupid and unwind with.

You’re not even necessarily looking for friends at Nelson Road, just friends somewhere. The problem is, you’re not even sure how to go about it. You’ve spent the last decade of your life (yes, decade) working your ass off to get where you are now. Fourteen year-old knew what she wanted and was determined to get it. You had hustled through school, made connections, grew your resume, and saved every fucking penny until you landed a job that you were definitely under qualified for, but you had nailed the interview. You weren’t sure why your boss decided to take a chance on you, until he told you later he saw the same spark his daughter had in your eyes.

His daughter, who had become a multi-millionaire on her own by the time she was twenty-seven.

So, because someone saw the grit in your eyes of all places, you had a chance to make a fuck ton of money and have a fuck ton of benefits.

You made more connections, including a realtor who set you up with your current home at a price that was insane to normal people, but a steal to the rich. You were signing papers before it was even officially on the market.

It had been labelled as a “fixer-upper,” but that meant a little bit of scuffed paint and slightly outdated utilities.

And it was yours.

It all came at a price though, didn’t it?

That price was not seeing your family often, sleeping poorly, and no real friends.

That’s why your brother makes it a point to come around. He knows that your lack of contact does not equate a lack of love.

Not everyone saw it that way. You’d lost all your friends at this point, labeled a bitch and a workaholic. So, you though, why the hell not just lean into it. You could be a bitch and a workaholic if it got things done. It was easier to harden the shell around your heart than let people in again.

—

Ok, maybe taking out all that anger on Jamie isn’t healthy, but hey, he’s the one fighting back so hard.

Things keep happening. His foot is stuck out just enough to make you stumble as you pass each other in the hallway, your car is parked on the street just enough so he can’t get into his garage, ferocious glares are exchanged. Any conversation you are forced to have is laced with sarcastic, biting remarks that only serve make you close off even more.

The worst part? You’re both fucking brilliant at hiding it.

You’d have to be, especially at AFC Richmond under Ted Lasso’s command. If he got wind of this, he’d be all over it trying to fix it and neither of you want that.

You see, Jamie’s a little bit fucked up too.

—

You’ve been at AFC Richmond for a year, and you’ve hated Jamie Tartt for eleven months.

Yet somehow, you’re in fucking Paris.

Not with just Jamie, of course, but the whole team.

Rebecca’s basically given you a paid vacation because there isn’t much for you to do here. It’s great, the city of lights or something, but you can’t enjoy it.

You’re in your room on the floor, becoming slowly dehydrated from crying.

Everything is all fuzzy and you’re incredibly disoriented, so you think you might be hallucinating when you hear a knock on the door.

It happens again, more insistently, and you think it’s probably Rebecca so you drag yourself up off the floor, wipe your eyes, and open it to find Jamie Tartt standing in front of you, clearly wishing to be anywhere else.

He’s staring at the top of the doorframe as he says, “Coach sent me to see if you want to go out with the lads tonight,” looking down only when you’ve left his statement unanswered for far too long.

His look of annoyance changes as he clocks your puffy eyes and red nose.

“You alright?” he asks and you don’t even have the heart to say, obviously, don’t I look it? so you just nod and move to shut the door.

Jamie blocks it with his hand and pushes it back open, then past you into the room.

It’s pristine, all marble and gold; and far too big for you. You would have preferred something smaller, something less empty. Something less cold.

All you can do is stand there mutely in your t-shirt and sweatpants, watching your worst enemy clatter around in the room’s fridge looking for a water bottle.

He retrieves one and hands it to you, cap unscrewed.

You don’t ask if he’s spit in it, just take a sip and look at him with dead eyes.

“You look like shit,” he observes, breaking the silence.

It’s not a dig. You’ve heard enough condescension from his lips to know when he’s fighting.

You shrug.

“You gonna say something?” Jamie asks, and that’s enough to get you going.

“You’re the one who’s in my room,” you say and instead of firing back, Jamie grins.

“We can go to mine if you want, love,” he winks and in a terrible, awful, panic-inducing moment, you are thrown completely off your guard.

How the fuck are you supposed to reconcile this Jamie Tartt with the awful neighbor you hate? And is he- flirting? Surely not.

He registers your face going through a million expressions in an instant and sobers.

“Go sit,” he says, and you comply without thinking. You’re cross-legged on the couch and he thumps down next to you. He’s not close enough that you’re touching, but you can feel the heat radiating off his body. It’s funny, because you feel so cold. You wonder for a moment if your heart has actually turned to stone and that’s why you’re shivering.

You hear someone say, “My ex is here,” and are horrified to realize that you’re the one talking, and not only that, but you’re continuing.

“He fucking… knew I’d be here. I saw him in the lobby. He acted like it was some great coincidence, but he was never a great liar. And… he’s here with his girlfriend. Fiancée, I guess. Because he’s proposing to her tonight. They’ve known each other less than a year, and he’s proposing to her. I saw him in the lobby looking like this while he’s in a fucking suit and all I can think about is the fact that he broke up with me because I wouldn’t put out because I wasn’t ready. And how he said he wasn’t the marrying type.” You pause.

“I broke my back making time for him. Everyone thinks I’m a workaholic and maybe I am, but I make time for the people I love. I made time for him. It sounds funny to say, especially how I am now, but he’s why I don’t anymore. Make time, I mean. Nobody notices I’m gone anyway. Or when I’m around. Or anything I do unless I’m doing something for them.”

You risk a look at Jamie. He’s studying your face with an intensity you’ve never seen and you look down to find his hand in yours, and you wonder how that happened. Your knuckles are white from gripping it but he’s holding it back and it gives you just enough of a boost to keep going.

“I don’t even want the money for myself. Like, I’m able to buy expensive shit and that’s cool, but the only reason I have a house that big is because my brother and his wife have a shit-ton of kids, and sometimes they need a break. So they can come over to mine and run around and have space and be wild for a week and I don’t care. They won’t let me give them money, so I have to think of creative ways to help them out. I only have nephews- they each have their own trust fund. It’s not that big right now, but it’s growing. It’ll be a lot by the time they’re each eighteen. And my parents… They died when I was fourteen. It was a stupid car accident, this freak thing with the brakes even though they’d just had the car serviced a week before. My brother was twenty one and newly married because he’s an idiot and he was in love. He and his wife let me live with them.”

You shake your head. “No, that’s not right, they didn’t just let me live with them, they took care of me. Bought me clothes and fed me and let me have my own room even though I said I could sleep on the couch. They could barely afford things for themselves, but they made sure I had what I needed. That’s why I threw myself into work and pushed people away. It’s for them, because I know I can never repay them. But I want to, even if they won’t let me.”

You’re done speaking, finally, and your face is bright red. It normally is when speaking to Jamie, but that’s from the sheer anger you usually feel from having to deal with him. This time it’s different. It’s from the embarrassment of being vulnerable in front of someone.

Jamie hasn’t said anything the whole time, just let you hold his hand. Your knees are touching now, and you realize that one of you must have shifted to make that happen.

You take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. “Why are you here, Jamie?” you ask softly. “You hate me. I don’t even know why I told you all that.”

He looks straight into your eyes. “I don’t hate you,” he says simply.

That’s enough to fully shatter the shell around your heart, and you’re shaking with silent sobs again as Jamie pulls you closer, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

—

You fall asleep like that, and you’re not sure at which point Jamie left. But when you wake up, you’re in your bed under a blanket. You think maybe you dreamed the whole thing until you see the note on your nightstand in messy handwriting.

I meant what I said.

—

Neither you nor Jamie comment on it, but something has changed. You don’t hate him anymore. He sits next to you on the plane back and cracks jokes, and you have a weird opportunity to apologize. He tells you he’s sorry too, explains about his dad, and you form a strange bond of repressed anger as a way to deal with hurt.

Ted is right, forgiveness is the way to go.

—

Jamie Tartt makes it a point to ask you to go out with the lads every time they do group activities. You meet Rebecca’s friend Keeley, basically the only other girl, and pretty soon she’s invited herself over for girl’s nights. Jamie recognizes Keeley’s car the second time it happens and walks over to say hey. She invites him in, and suddenly he’s a fixture at girl’s night. His movie recommendations are shit, but his skincare products are not.

Since things at AFC Richmond aren’t as hectic as you’re used to, you start to pick up some of your old hobbies. Cooking, for example. You get your hands on a copy of Jamie’s diet plan and start experimenting with ways to make it more interesting. So now he’s at yours for dinner more often than not.

He pops his head over the fence one Saturday afternoon, hearing young voices all morning. Your nephews are over and playing football in the backyard while your brother and sister-in-law deep clean their house. You’re sitting under an umbrella with the baby in your arms and a pitcher of water, when you hear Isaiah, the oldest, say, “Whoa! Is that Jamie Tartt?”

You look up from Daniel’s tiny giggly face to see Jamie hanging over your fence and waving. You roll your eyes and grin back.

“Wanna come over?” you call, and the words are barely our of your mouth before he’s hopped over and starting to steal the ball from your four walking nephews.

They’re at it for a good thirty minutes before he calls time-out and is jogging over to you, all sweaty and grinning.

“Didn’t know you were good with kids,” he says.

“Could say the same thing about you,” you shoot back.

He grabs water then makes a silly face at Daniel, who giggles and waves his arms. You laugh and kiss the baby on the top of his head, which makes him gurgle. You look up to see Jamie watching you strangely, so you wrinkle your nose at him. “What?” you say, but before he can open his mouth to respond, Jesse is pulling on Jamie’s hand, telling him the time-out is over.

—

Your next interaction of note happens after your third consecutive Richmond match. You don’t usually go to them, as it’s not required and you didn’t really care. But since you’ve been hanging out with the team, you find yourself taking Rebecca up on her offer to sit in the owner’s box. It’s three days until the next match and you’re looking for Jamie so you can eat lunch together. You find him in the locker room of all places and hand him his bag of food, yet another one of your experiments.

You’re starting to get really good revitalizing Jamie’s meal plan.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and you both miss the looks exchanged between Ted and Beard in their office.

Jamie puts down the lunch and says, “Oi, I got you something.” He reaches into his locker and pulls out a Richmond jersey.

“It’s new, it ain’t one of mine, but now you can wear it to matches.”

You shake it open to see it’s a Jamie Tartt jersey, and this makes you unreasonably happy.

Jamie’s grinning too, and it’s the rare kind of grin where his teeth look sharper and his eyes flash.

You hug it to your chest and say, “I’ll be sure to wear it Saturday,” before you and Jamie head to the café to eat.

—

Keeley, of course, has comments about the jersey. You pretend not to understand what she’s saying.

—

It’s girls night again, and you and Jamie are pulling snacks out of his cabinets when your phones ding at the same time. It’s Keeley on your groupchat.

Can’t make it babes, something’s come up.

You make a comment involving the words “Roy Kent,” and riffing on her excuse, which makes Jamie laugh.

“I guess I’ll head back to mine,” you say, but Jamie tilts his head and says, “Or you could just… stay,” so you do.

You’re on his couch again, like the night you stopped hating him: your back agains his chest as you rub your thumb absentmindedly on his tattooed forearm.

You’re midway through the movie and explaining to Jamie the limited plausibility of it happening in real life, when he says a soft, oh shit as you pause to take a breath.

“What?” you say, sitting up. “Is everything alright?”

Jamie rubs a hand across his face. “You’re gonna fucking hate me again.”

You squint. “Not sure that’s possible. You’ve got too much dirt on me.”

Jamie just groans. “Nah, you’ll hate me. But I’m gonna tell you anyway.”

He grabs your hand and looks you straight in your eyes, giving you goosebumps.

“I’m fucking in love with you,” he says, and your brain still functions just enough to crash your lips into his.

You’re on top of him and his fingers are tangled in your hair, but as your fingers ghost his waistband, he stills and grabs your hand.

You freeze too, afraid you’ve crossed a line, but Jamie says, “I’m not fucking you for the first time on my couch. We’re going to do this proper,” and then he’s whisking you off your feet and up the stairs.

—

You know that fucking someone you work with is a line you said you’d never cross. But he was your neighbor first, and you’re in love, so it doesn’t count. You’re lying on Jamie’s bed gasping for air after god knows how long and all you can say is, “fuck me.”

Jamie smirks. “Thought I just did, babe, but I’ll go again,” and you’re seeing stars for the third time that night.

He’s sucking a line across your collarbone when you say, “Wait!”

Jamie is off of you in a moment, and you feel strangely empty.

“You alright?” he asks, all concern.

“I never said it back,” you explain. Jamie’s still confused.

“I love you too. You said you’re fucking in love with me. I’m in love with you too. Just thought I should make it clear.”

Jamie’s looking at you all strange again, eyes dark, so you roll him back on top and let him devour you.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine

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junipers-archive · 1 year

Text

*ੈ✩‧₊˚✧ GIRLFRIEND ❥ The first time James calls you his girlfriend!! (fluff)

Today was the day you were all able to visit hogsmeade for the first time.

Correction, it was the first time you'd be able to visit hogsmeade with permission. To be fair you'd already been countless of times, after you made friends with James, Remus, Sirius and Pete. They'd taken it upon themseleves to show you all the secret passages they'd found prior to your friendship.

Even your first date with James had been spent sneaking into the very town, holding hands through the passage way and kissing off his butter-beer made mustache.

You were currently walking down in groups, you and James were holding hands slowly watching the others as they conversed.

Sirius was, of course taking as much of the attention he could get by speaking quite loudly, "Well I think we should go to Honeydukes first, I'm all out of chocolate frogs from our last trip!"

Pete squeaked nervously beside him, "Will you keep it down! Minnie will hear you!"

"He's right pads, keep it down, also maybe we should split up? I need to make a stop at Tomes and Scrolls." It was Remus he had been leisurely strolling after Sirius' gallavanting, every so often stretching his long limbs.

Sirius, like a child was the only one who didn't quite listen to Remus when he spoke, no matter how intimaditing he could be. "Fine, but we can't split up, that's against the code moons."

Remus huffed out annoyed,

"Are you seriously bringing that up right now?" James was getting uncomfortable, like he always did when they fought, shifting the arm he had around you.

"Yes. yes I am. and if you follow the code you know, we don't split up. ever."

Even Peter was getting antsy, you'd all stopped at the ridge right before entering the town to continue the conversation . "W-well, do we have to follow the code? Jamie brought his girlfriend for godrics sake, I hardly think its necessary!"

Your heart skipped and your cheeks flushed at being called James' girlfriend, you knew it wasn't exactly the time but you hadn't yet had that talk.

James finally spoke, brought out of his daze by the mention of you, "Pete's right, I did bring my girlfriend and if you lot want to split up go ahead, I'm going with her."

He pulled you against his side tightly, leading you through his friends who were still squabbling about the 'rules'.

Walking down to the main ridge you still couldn't proccess what he said, he'd called you his girlfriend, correct? Not person-he-was-dating, not friend, not anything else, but girlfriend. right?

As you approach the three broomsticks your eyes are still blown wide, asking hestitantly, "Y-you said girlfriend?"

He grinned down at you knowingly leading you toward an empty booth, "Yes sweetheart, I did."

"S-So am I- does that mean-we're-"

He leans down to kiss your temple, silencing you as he smiles and pulls back to see your hopeful face, "Yes' believe it means we're boyfriend-girlfriend now, if that's okay with you?"

When you seat yourself your mouth is still agape answering quickly, "Yea, yea that's more okay with me Jamie!"

He tries to hide the small tint in his cheeks by looking down at the menu the waitress put down, "Good to hear, so what're you having?"

And the rest of the trip is spent perfectly, stopping by your favorite shops, almost never being out of each others reach and buying enough goodies to last you till Christmas. He even lets you drag him into a jewelery store nearby the pub.

Yet throughout it all you're still in a slightly lovesick daze, because James Potter had called you his girlfriend.

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turcott3 · 2 days

Text

faith

jamie drysdale x fem!reader

warnings?: cursing, kissing, smut, oral f receiving.

masterlist

you sighed as you slammed your computer shut, finally hitting send on your resume. the thought of the email reaching them filled you with dread.

what if they didn’t want to interview you? what if this was just another company to ghost you?

it stressed you out.

eventually, you found your way out of your bedroom, out into the living room where your boyfriend sat sprawled out on the couch.

“i did it.” you said quietly.

“you sent it?” he asks perking up.

“yeah.” you sigh, sitting down next to him, tucking yourself under his arm.

“that’s one step, see it wasn’t so hard?” he says squeezing your shoulder.

“we’ll see about that.”

“y/n, your resume looks great, i couldn’t possibly see why they wouldnt at least want you to come in to interview.” he says, a light thumb running over the fabric that covered your shoulder.

“well now i just have to wait.” you say opening up your email, pulling down refreshing it.

“okay now this is what we aren’t gonna do. i’m not gonna let you sit and drain yourself waiting for a response.” he says taking your phone and tucking it in his pocket.

“hey, give that back.” you say reaching across his lap, his hand grabbing yourself under wrist to stop you.

“i will give it back in the morning, just let me take care of you until then okay? they probably are just busy and can’t check emails. relax, my love.” he says pressing a kiss on your cheek before standing up, disappearing into your shared room, probably to hide the phone.

“i’m nervous about it jam.”

“i know you are, come here.” he says quietly as he lays down, signaling for you to curl up on his chest, one of the few places you felt like you could breathe.

“it’s all i can think about right now.”

“i know, i know.” he says, running his hands up and down your back.

you laid on his chest until you crashed late in the evening, eventually waking up to the sun peaking through the bedroom curtains, your phone laying perfectly on your nightstand just like he’d promised.

you hear your boyfriend groan next to you as you lean up on your elbow, turning to face him.

“morning baby.” he mumbles sweetly, his eyes still closed.

“good morning love bug.” you giggle, pressing a short kiss to his lips before rolling back over and getting out of bed, your phone instantly in your hand as you walked toward the bathroom.

“oh my gosh.” you gasp.

“what?” jamie calls out.

“i have an interview, like this afternoon.”

“congratulations, see i told you, everything will be fine.” he says, appearing in the door frame.

“i don’t think i tell you enough how hot you are when you wake up.” you say, your speech muffled as you brushed your teeth.

“oh whatever.” he giggles, kissing you on the head and grabbing his toothbrush.

“what do you think i should wear?” you ask, wiping your mouth.

“black pants, solid color shirt. nothing too fancy, but still nice.”

“okay.” you say, thinking to your closet.

you paced around your apartment as you waited to leave, your makeup nicely done and your hair slick and clean.

“baby please, calm down. you don’t leave for another 20 minutes.” jamie says walking into the living room.

“jamie what if i don’t get it?”

“well you won’t find out today.”

“fuck that makes it worse.” you say biting your nails.

“hey hey stop, will you listen to me for a second?” he asks, gripping onto your biceps.

“stop what?”

“this, all of this. this job interview does not define you. of course i have all the faith in the world that you are fully capable of getting this job, but it’s breaking my heart seeing you so torn up about it. i will love you all the same, job or not. no matter what.” he says, his thumbs grazing back and forth soothingly.

“i’m just nervous, that’s all it is jamie.”

“yes of course you are, and i get that, but i need you to be all here. i need you to just take a breath for me okay? everything is going to be fine, i will be here waiting for you when you come back.”

“okay, i’m gonna leave now so im a little early.” you say, hugging onto the boy.

“drive safe okay? i love you.”

“i will, i love you.” you call out, shutting the door behind you.

you arrived back home with a smile, opening the door finding jamie in his spot on the couch.

“so?” he asks, getting up to greet you at the door, wrapping you in his warm arms.

“the interview went really good.”

“i knew you would do great. i’m so proud of you pretty girl.” he mumbles into your hair, pecking you in the head a few times.

“they said i’d hear back by the end of the week.”

“so basically i’m taking your phone from you for two days, at least.” he says pulling away lightly and locking eyes with you.

“if you must.” you giggle as he presses a kiss to your lips, pulling your phone out of your back pocket.

“i’m hiding that laptop too.”

“jamie i have school work.” you giggle as he shuffles away quickly.

“you can use my laptop.” he calls out and you roll your eyes with a stuck smile.

hours had passed by and you were left alone in bed while jamie showered. you reached into his nightstand drawer pulling out your phone, opening the email app and refreshing it every few seconds before you heard the door open and a freshly showered jamie re-enters the room.

“y/n, the phone.” he says sternly.

“i’m sorry.” you sigh.

“give me that he says crawling into bed, looking over you as he took the phone from your hand.

“i can’t help it.” you reply.

“i know you can’t, but i can distract you.” he smirks, locking his lips onto yours. your hands found their way to his cheeks as he deepened the kiss, your tongues doing a tango of passion as you grew deeper and deeper in desire.

he removes a hand from your waist, slipping it into your satin shorts, running his fingers through your soaked core.

“jamie.” you whine, gripping onto his arm.

“mmm ready for me already?” he mumbles on your lips. you pull away locking eyes with him, nodding vigorously, any thought of an email instantly leaving your brain at the simple idea of your hot, hockey player boyfriend tongue deep between your legs.

he crawls to the end of the bed, his feet planted on the ground as he leaned over the bed, tugging your shorts down, leaving you exposed. he tossed them to the side, grabbing your ankles and pulling you slightly toward him. he crawled closer between your legs, kissing up your inner thigh, his hands finding their way to grip the outside of your legs. sooner than later, his lips make sweet contact with your pussy, sucking and twirling your clit with his tongue, your back arching at the sensation.

one thing about jamie, he knows how to eat, whether anyone wants to believe that or not.

“fuck.” you moan out, gripping in his dark locks as you locked eyes with him, your moans growing louder as you realize his eyes were ready to meet yours.

“taste so good baby.” he says pulling away slightly, the vibrations of his words making you groan.

“you’re so fucking good at that.” you gasp out as he continues, sliding two fingers into you, being pushed closer and closer to the edge. the build up was unbearable as he continued his actions, his fingers curling inside you causing you to crumble under his touch, an orgasm washing over you as you soaked his face in your wetness.

“oh my fucking god.” you gasp out as he pulls away, crawling over you, attaching your lips shamelessly to his.

“feeling better?” he giggles, pulling away.

“so much fucking better.” you reply in your hazy state.

“now no more worrying about a damn email y/n, everything will be fine. i’m here for you, i love you so much. don’t ever forget that okay?” he says, brushing your hair out of your face as you fixed your shorts after he’d handed them back to you.

“okay, i love you too jamie. promise i’ll be better.” you smile.

he made you realize how much he actually cared. he cared about your happiness more than his own, wanting to eliminate any possibility of stress if he could.

he loved you more than anything, job or not, and you just couldn’t believe you’d gotten so lucky to love him back.

#jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale smut #turcs’ talk #nhl imagine #nhl

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jpitha · 1 year

Text

Risk Tolerance

Humans have an unusually high risk tolerance among the galaxy's sapients. Watching a human operate their own equipment can be truly something to behold (from a safe distance).

Perhaps their utter indifference to death and dismemberment developed as a result of evolutionary pressures on their planet. Among worlds that support sapient life, theirs is unusually competitive.

Or it could just be cultural.

Griz'ek and Summer Breeze were sitting in a cafe, enjoying their evening meal when two humans sprinted past them. Remembering the Confederation's second rule when living and working with humans (if they're running away from something, you run too) Griz and Summer jumped out of their seats and took off after them.

As soon as Griz and Summer started after the humans, they heard the alarm. One of the ships on the docking ring had an overspeed alarm, it's hooting trill making it very clear that something was very wrong.

The humans passed the pressure door for the docking ring, and a small crowd trotted after them.

One of the humans, a male Griz thought, looked down the hall worried, "Is that everyone? Station! Is anyone left on the docking ring?"

"I don't detect anyone within the confines of the docks. Sealing doors." The pressure doors came down with a muffled slam. A moment later there was a thump as the stricken ship was ejected from the docking ring, and then the windows in the hall went white from the flash a split second before the anti-glare shields darkened the images.

The female human looked to the other. "Okay, okay you were right. adding a 3% solution of telmurian gas caused it to overspeed."

"What did I tell you?" Summer could have sworn the second human looked smug, but they weren't completely sure about human body language. "I said that the telmurian gas was much too volatile. It was never going to work"

"Well, yes, I see that now Jamie. What do you recommend then?"

Jamie nodded his head. "We should have increased the outer compensator allowance by 10 microns."

The female human rolled her eyes. "That would cause an unacceptable amount of coke buildup and you know it. If it was that easy, the Confederation would have done it already!"

Finally, Griz'ek spoke up. "I'm sorry, but what happened?"

Jamie and the other human looked over, and with a realization that they had an audience, they looked sheepish. "Oh, I'm sorry. Mary here-:" Jamie gestured "-thought that if we injected a 3% solution of telmurian gas into the engines we'd get a stable 15% increase in drive output."

Summer Breeze's feathers rippled concern. "But, telmurian gas is highly dangerous! It's downright explosive. Why would you mix it into the drive beam?"

Mary looked defiant. "It would have worked if the Remlar Drive Yards knew how to make an engine. Human thrusters are always overbuilt by a factor of two or three. It would have been fine if the injection chamber came from Niven." She looks at Jamie. "The next ship we buy is 100% human made."

Summer Breeze couldn't help themselves. Their feathers puffed out and they gestured angrily. "You tried injecting a known explosive gas into the drive beam and though it would make it work better?"

Mary looks surprised. "Yes? How else do you gain efficiencies? Sure, sometimes it explodes, but other times you get a Flip drive."

Humans tended to use their own domestically developed Flip drive to travel between the stars. It was quite a bit faster than the Confederation's FTL Warp, but most other sapients considered it much too unstable to use.

Griz looked at the humans with awe. "But, your ship was destroyed."

Jamie shrugged. "We'll get another, and everyone is fine. Chalk it up to lessons learned." He looked out the window. "Hey Station, anyone get hurt?"

"No Jamie, there was no damage other than your ship - which was completely destroyed. The ejection systems worked perfectly."

Jamie smiled at Griz and Summer. "See? No harm done."

Summer couldn't stand it anymore. "NO HARM DONE HE SAYS. HE HAS NO SHIP!" Summer's feathers won't stop rippling up and down.

Griz puts his tentacle around his friend. "Come on Summer, let's leave the humans to their own insanity and go get some drinks-" He glares at Jamie and Mary "-on the other side of the station. Summer Breeze continues on, "THEY JUST THOUGHT IT WAS FINE TO ADD AN EXPLOSIVE TO THEIR DRIVE JUST TO SEE WHAT IT WOULD DO!"

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are space capybaras #writing #sci fi writing #humans and aliens #humans solve problems with explosions

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atlafan · 6 months

Text

“You’re acting like that meme of Jamie Lee Curtis where she’s aggressively drinking that water and telling someone off at the same time.” Layna groaned at her boyfriend who finally stopped glaring at his phone to look up at her.

“I have absolutely no idea what that is.”

“Yes you do, I’ve sent it to you before!” Layna takes her own phone out and shows him after searching it quickly on Google.

“Ohhhhh.” He smirks. “Right, now I remember. It’s usually you who looks like that when you’re about to brawl with someone.”

“Now that you’ve calmed down, can we think about what just happened rationally?”

“No, and I will try to call customer service again.” He holds his phone up to his ear.

“Your ass is not on the phone!”

“I’m listening to a voicemail!”

“Okay, Mr. Corporate.” She rolls her eyes.

“Just because I was promoted at the gym, does not make me a corporate meow meow asshole. I think it’s perfectly reasonable for to be upset about this.”

“I’m just going to go in and see if we can book a new reservation with my credit card. The room is technically available..”

“Not until I get to the bottom of this.”

“There’s nothing to get to the bottom of.” She groaned.

“The bottom is gaping. This is a job for the FBI.”

“Who are you, Kris Jenner?”

“Ew, no.” He grimaces. “She’s insane, why would you say that?”

“Because you just said…ugh! Why can’t you know the same references that I do?”

“I’m so sorry that I haven’t spent hours upon hours watching E! I’ll try to rectify that at some point. Now, let me do what I need to do.” He taps a few things on his phone and then presses it to his ear. “This is why I hate credit cards, cash is so much easier.”

Layna pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. She reached into his pocket for the paper confirmation Harry had brought with them so they could check into their hotel with ease. He has wanted to plan a long weekend for them, so he booked everything with his name and his credit cards. When you check into a hotel, you need to show the card you used to reserve the room. The woman said the cards didn’t match. When Harry tried again, the app for his card put a lock on his account. So now they’re out on the curb trying to figure it out.

As Layna scans the paper she furrows her brows, then reaches into Harry’s pocket again for his wallet. He pays her no mind while he speaks with another representative from the card’s customer service line. She takes out the credit card he used to reserve the booking and realizes that Harry inverted the expiration date, and wrote Harry Edwerd Styles, instead of Harry Edward Styles. Two simple mistakes that the woman behind the counter could have been nicer about helping with instead of just turning them away.

“Harry…hang up the phone, baby. I figured out what happened.”

“Yeah?” He hangs up the phone. He was on hold so who cares?

“Um…I don’t want you to feel embarrassed because I’ve made mistakes like this before too, but it appears that you inverted the expiration date on your card…and spelled your middle name wrong…”

“I did?!” He snatches the card and the paper and scans them both. “I’m not seeing it.”

“Can I point to them?” She asks gently and he nods. She shows him the expiration on the card and then points to what’s on the paper. “See, the expiration is 06/29, you put 09/26…and you spelled Edward with two E’s…”

“Oh.” His cheeks redden, obviously very embarrassed by his blunder. “I should have had you look at it before I submitted…”

“It happens! I’ve done with my security code and my exportation date before. I think if we go back in, we could explain it better. And then see if that snotty lady will be cooler about the mistake.”

“This is so embarrassing.” He groans.

“I know it feels that way right now, but I promise, I’m not judging. I know your dyslexia flares up more when you’re stressed and reading all the fine print for a hotel reservation can be really daunting.” She wraps her arms around his neck and pecks his nose. “The sooner we go inside and fix the reservation, the sooner we can go to our room and I can help you forget alllll about this.”

“Might have times where I think of it randomly and I feel embarrassed all over again.” He grips her hips, squeezing them.

“Then I guess wherever we are you’ll just need to pull me aside and use me until you forget again.”

No Complaints Blurb

#no complaints #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc

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epinebleue · 1 year

Text

love me now (m) | 01

(Gif credit)

in which you have sex via FaceTime.

pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)

genre: established relationship!au, mature.

warnings: dirty talking, praise kink, masturbation.

author’s note: tell me why i’m blushing while posting this lmao you can tell i haven’t written smut in years.

chapter index

“I really miss you.”

Johnny laughs quietly at your pouty face, causing the image to shake for a few seconds.

“I left this morning.”

“Still!” You defend yourself, head on the pillows and arm raised, holding the phone up so that Johnny can see your face. “The house’s so quiet. I hate it here.”

“You should’ve come with me, then.”

“I have to work, Johnny, it’s not like I didn’t want to go.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s accusations. He raises an eyebrow as if doubting your word. You know he’s only playing, but it bothers you a little. “Besides, you know how much I love your mother’s cooking, how could I say no to that?”

“Well, for your information, she won’t accept a no next time. She said she’ll cook all your favorite dishes.”

You laugh softly at that, flattered. You’ve been in a relationship with Johnny for two years, yet she loves and takes care of you as if you had dated for decades. Even if you can't go visit Johnny's parents that much, they still treat you like a queen every time you go there. You’re so fortunate to have them and their son in your life.

“She’s so cute. Tell them I love them.”

“I will.” Johnny places his free arm behind his neck and rests his head on it. “Tell me about your day. Did you have fun?”

“Oh, yes.” You hadn’t been able to go out with your whole group for months, ones too busy with work and studies, others trying to get their lives together. Managing to gather them in the same place had been such a challenge but so worthy. “Rosie’s starting a new job tomorrow, Jane will defend her PhD next month, and Jamie’s going to Hawaii on a spiritual retreat or some shit. Oh, and she made out with a waiter. And a bartender.”

Johnny scoffs in disbelief. “Classic Jamie.”

“It was a bet, actually.” And you lost 20 dollars, but you aren’t telling him that. “Wait a minute, my arm’s getting tired.” You rest the phone against the pillows and roll until you're lying on your stomach in front of it, hand supporting your chin.

“Is that my T-shirt?” Johnny asks out of nowhere. You’re speechless, having forgotten about it. Yes, you’re wearing Johnny’s favorite T-shirt, given by his father when he turned 16. It’s dark grey, with a drawing and the band’s name on the front: Coldplay. It fits Johnny perfectly but is huge enough to cover your body like a dress when you wear it.

“Yeah.” An embarrassed laugh leaves your lips because, up until now, Johnny didn’t know that you wear his clothes whenever he’s away. “It smells like you, makes me feel less lonely.”

“You’re so cute.” His eyes form a pair of crescent moons as he smiles, making your embarrassment grow.

“Stop!” Your face falls flat on the mattress in an attempt to hide away from his gaze.

“I mean it, you look so pretty.” You giggle against the soft covers. It doesn’t matter how much Johnny compliments you, you’ll never get used to it. “I’d so fuck you in that.”

You raise your head so fast that you hear your neck crack. You aren’t laughing anymore, but you still smile. Johnny, on the other hand, is dead serious.

“Control yourself, sir, you’re in your parent’s house.”

“How can you tell me to control myself when you look that hot?” That wipes your smile away, his words causing the effect he wants, triggering a heatwave that takes over your body.

There’s a subtle wetness growing between your legs, even if he has barely said anything. That’s the power Johnny has over you. One look, one word, is enough. You look directly into his dark eyes, filled with lust, and you chuckle.

“Fine, you’ve got all my attention. Tell me what you would do to me.”

Johnny licks his lips before speaking. His words come out slowly, dragging them more than necessary. He keeps his voice low, not wanting to disturb his parents. If they catch him dirty talking via FaceTime, it’s over for you both.

“I'd start by rubbing that cunt of yours.”

You slide down the bed and get on your knees, making sure that Johnny can see your face and body. You place a hand on your thigh, gently moving it upwards to your wet core, giving yourself goosebumps. You touch yourself over the thin fabric of your blue underwear, letting out an obnoxious moan. Johnny's reaction is immediate, a quiet curse slipping out of his lips.

You sight. “Like this?”

“Yes, like that.” He says, eyes fixed on your movements. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice, of neediness. “Take off your underwear, babe, let me see you.”

It’s not a plea, but an order. You love when Johnny bosses you around in bed; when he loses his patience and manhandles you until he has you where he wants. And it looks like the dynamic will never change, not even when he’s in Chicago, in his childhood room. You throw your panties aside and go back to the same position, knees on the mattress, fingers rubbing your clit now.

“Fuck, I’m so wet.”

You press your fingertips against your folds, waiting for instructions. Johnny moves his arm from behind his head and it disappears from the frame. A soft growl erupts from his throat, letting you know that he’s pleasuring himself, too.

“Touch yourself for me, baby girl.” The pet name has you drooling, rushing to insert a finger inside of you, slowly, to make sure Johnny can enjoy the moment. Then, he demands. “I want to see your body. Lift the T-shirt.”

You rush to grab the hem of the garment but take your sweet time to pull it up, teasing him. He clenches his jaw and the image shakes a bit. You close your eyes and picture Johnny’s hand around his dick, the leaking tip red and angry. You imagine him using his pre cum as a lube, his hand moving up and down, but never being satisfied, because only you can get him off. You bring the hem of the T-shirt to your mouth and bite it, keeping it up so that he can see your naked body.

“Shit... add another finger.”

You listen and slide in a second finger, the feeling of being stretched making you moan louder. It's a good thing Johnny has AirPods on.

You move your fingers in and out, desperate and lost in the view in front of you: Johnny has closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, leaving his neck deliciously exposed. You wish you could kiss it, bite it, mark him. You know he loves that kinky shit. Unconsciously, your fingers move faster, the sound of your juices flooding the room. You wonder if Johnny can hear that.

“Does it feel good, babe?” He asks, eyes falling on you again. You nod frenetically, unable to form any other words right now. “Fuck, you look so pretty. Are you a good girl?”

You fall apart every time he compliments you. You clench around your fingers and, again, all you do is nod. You moan in between sighs, biting on the T-shirt as you throw your head back. The fabric is all damp and your tongue is dry.

With your free hand, you rub your clit as your fingers reach further inside you. You wish Johnny was the one fucking you right now, your fingers being nothing compared to him. Hell, you want him so bad. Why does he have to be so far away?

Johnny growls again. “You're doing so good.”

Your mind is all over the place. Johnny's words encourage you to add another finger, even if he doesn't order you to do so. Johnny pants quietly enough so his parents don't hear him, but you do. Your hand cups your sex every time you thrust with your fingers, your climax getting closer and closer.

You open your mouth and the T-shirt slides down a bit. You grab it in a fist over your chest, making sure Johnny still has access to your body.

“John, I'm so close.” You whine with your eyes closed shut, the knot in your stomach growing with every caress of your clit.

“Wait for me, baby.” Once again, he demands. “You can do that, right?”

You're not sure if you can, but still, you nod, wanting to make Johnny proud. You want to be a good girl, so you keep pumping your fingers.

“But I want to see you touching yourself, please.”

“Sure, babe.”

Johnny smirks, and then his face disappears from your screen. Instead, you welcome the amazing view of his hand pumping his dick, erect and red. It looks so delicious you wish you could put it in your mouth. Damn, the things you would do if he was here with you. The image’s enough to send you over the edge, but you still try by all means to delay your orgasm. And it works, at least until you hear Johnny calling your name.

“Johnny, I can't-”

He must have noticed your desperation because his next words come out softly. “Cum, baby, cum for me.”

By the time you’re able to finish, your hand aches like hell. Your hand gets caught in between your legs as you cum. Your orgasm feels like an electric shock that shakes you to the bone as you call Johnny, desperately. You witness him finishing seconds later, white ropes landing on his stomach, abs clenching as your name slips from his mouth like a prayer. You thrust your fingers a few more times, riding your orgasm until the feeling fades away.

You pull them out, both hands landing on the bed before you fall on it, rolling to your side. You’re tired and sweaty, and the T-shirt sticks to your skin. Only your pants can be heard for a moment. Shortly after, Johnny switches the camera again.

“Fuck, that was hot.” He pushes his hair back, panting. “You’re so hot. I love you.”

The compliment fills you with pride, but his confession makes you smile widely, stupidly.

“I love you, too.”

You close your eyes for a few seconds, only opening them at the sound of Johnny’s voice. “Go sleep, princess, you’re tired.”

“No.” You whine. “I want to stay a little longer.”

“You’re literally falling asleep as we speak.”

There’s something in his eyes that makes you melt: adoration. You love it when Johnny looks at you like this.

“Nonsense.”

“I’ll call you in the morning, alright?”

You pout, closing your eyes again. His voice is so soothing that you could fall asleep as he speaks. “Promise me.”

“I pinky-promise you.”

“Okay...” You giggle. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, princess.” He zooms in on his lips, and teasingly whispers. “Dream of me.”

Hell, you miss him so much.

No reposting or translations allowed.

#nct smut #nct fic #nct johnny #johnny smut #nct johnny smut #johnny suh smut #johnny suh fic #johnny imagine #nct johnny fic #johnny suh

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wlntrsldler · 8 months

Text

now i see daylight | part i: don't you

song: don't you by taylor swift

series description: set after lust conquers all, jamie returns to richmond and takes accountability for treating you like shit.

warnings: language-- it's ted laso, what did ya expect?; mention of jamie's dad, misogyny, bff!sam, sad!jamie

pairing: jamie tartt x f! reader

word count: 2276 words

series masterlist | main masterlist

Working for AFC Richmond meant that strange things happened every day. Sometimes, you'd walk out on the pitch to find the team wheelbarrow racing, while the coaches stood and critiqued their techniques. Or sometimes you'd hear them passionately sing 'Baby' by Justin Bieber in the locker rooms before hearing absolute silence when Ludacris' rap came on. Then, you'd only hear Colin perfectly rapping on beat, and when Justin's voice came back, a roar of cheers for Colin's rapping skills followed.

Needless to say, there were so many strange things that happen at AFC Richmond that when a day is seemingly normal, that became the new version of strange.

But the strangest thing that has ever happened at AFC Richmond was when you walked into the locker room to find Jamie fucking Tartt smack-dab in the middle of the room, a million apologies on the tip of his tongue, as the rest of the team shouted all his wrongdoings at him.

Jamie Tartt is many things.

For one, he is a mama's boy. He loves Georgie beyond comprehension. He truly believes that the world's largest problems could be solved if people just hugged their mothers more often. His proof? All his problems vanish when he gets a hug from Georgie. Well, maybe not vanish, but they significantly decrease in urgency.

Two, he is a good football player. Scratch that, he knows that with the proper training and discipline, he’ll be regarded as one of the most legendary players to ever grace the Premier League. He has the potential to be great.

Three, he is a prick– a goddamn gigantic prick. This was something that he gladly accepted. He didn't come to Richmond to make friends. He came to Richmond to play some fucking football. He was fine being known as a top-notch, proper, prick.

This was true until he walked into the Richmond locker room and, hand to god, felt physical daggers being drilled into his entire body.

Jamie knew that coming back to Richmond would ruffle some feathers. Truthfully, if he was in their position, he didn't think he would've been able to walk through the front door without getting ripped to shreds. He walked towards his cubby, head hanging low, not wanting to stoke the flame. He could feel everyone's gaze on him. The locker room was dead silent until Isaac's voice echoed against the walls.

"Oi, Tartt," he yelled, "You have a lot of fucking nerve showing your face here again, bruv."

That started it. Before Jamie could even respond to Isaac, a million other things came barreling at him from different members of the team.

"You called me a jaundiced worm!"

"You hit on my mum, in front of my dad!"

"You cupped a fart and put it in my face!"

“I don’t know you, but I don’t like you!”

Then, the room fell silent. You walked in. Jamie stared at you, eyes pleading for you to spare him a smile like you used to. He twiddled his thumbs together, his tell of anxiety and doubt.

Ted blinked, finally stepping in after a few beats, "Alright, fellas, that's enough. I know emotions are runnin’ high, but we're going to have to find a way to work together. As a team– because that's what we are, a team. Alright?"

Murmurs of agreement, disgruntled agreements but agreements nonetheless, rang around the room. Ted patted Jamie on the back before motioning the coaches to follow him into the office. You watched them walk in and shut the door, unable to do anything but stand frozen in your spot, staring at Jamie.

"Are you alright?" Sam's concerned voice snapped you out of your trance.

"What the fuck is he doing here? Thought he hated this club.” You mumbled, rubbing your temples with the pads of your fingertips. Jamie hated the way that you were talking about him like he wasn’t there. Like he wasn’t in front of you, looking you in the eye. “His words.”

"Yeah," Sam replied, venom dripping from his lips. "His words."

"I guess you can never take Jamie Tartt's words at face value," you spat, bidding goodbye to Sam before walking away, leaving Jamie dumbstruck and alone in the locker room where everyone hated him.

Jamie knew that getting the team to accept him coming back to Richmond was going to take some time and a lot of effort. They all hated him– rightfully so. He’s fucked up. A lot. He was a prick to them when he was first loaned to Richmond. He said some nasty things about Ted to the media. And they absolutely had the right to tell him to fuck all the way off when he came back to Richmond after being the reason they were relegated. They could’ve told him that he should go descend into the shit hole he came out of and that every bad thing that was happening in his career was his fault. They could’ve let him become a “has-been” before he even reached his prime after he fucked his football career up by joining that stupid reality show.

But he knew he’d somehow win them over, eventually. Getting you to forgive him, though, was another story. The way your face morphed into a scowl, one that he’d only seen you use once and that was when Rupert showed up at Nelson Road unexpectedly, and aimed those words at him gave him the shivers. You don’t look at people like that.

You never looked at him like that.

–

It’s been weeks. Jamie has tried everything short of getting on his hands and knees and begging you to talk to him. He hasn’t even gotten the chance to apologize because you leave the room whenever he’s around. You walk away whenever he tries to talk to you. He’s even tried to get the team to help him.

Sam, who slowly opened up to him after Jamie proved that he could be trusted, tried to convince you to give Jamie a chance, which led you to ice Sam out for three days. Sam, who couldn’t go more than a few days without you, his best friend, apologized to Jamie and said there was nothing he could do. Jamie knew that if not even your best friend could convince you to talk to him, there was nobody in the club who could persuade you. He didn’t know what else to do, it seemed impossible. He didn’t want to give up, but it looked like the situation called for it.

Jamie’s eyes widened when he saw you walking toward the locker room by yourself. He quickly twisted the cap on his water bottle before jogging over to you. He called out, “Y/N! Wait up!”

You could pick out that accent from anywhere. You let out a sigh and did a complete 180 on your heels, walking back toward your office. The team PR opportunity can wait. You began to speed up as you heard him coming closer, but you should’ve known better than to try to outrun a professional footballer.

Jamie ran in front of you, blocking your path. You had no choice but to entertain his attempts this time. He smiled when he realized you weren’t making a move to escape him, but it quickly faded when that scowl overtook your features once more. His shoulders dropped, “Just wanted to say that I’m gonna stop tryin’ to talk to ya after this.”

You blinked in shock, eyes widening as you digested his words. Protectively, you held the binder closer to your chest, in case this was just a ploy. You stepped back, trying to make sense of the situation. After weeks of trying to talk to you, he’s going to give up just like that? Well, maybe it wasn’t just like that– you did avoid him like the plague.

He continued to speak when you didn’t make a sound, “Right, figured you weren’t gonna say ‘nything. Well, yeah, I just wanted to let you know that I get it. It took me a while to hear ya, but I’ve been talking to Doc Sharon and she said I need to start thinkin’ about what the people I care about need instead of always thinkin’ of myself.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Jamie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, “Yeah, ‘m trying to take accountability for my actions in the past and that includes how I treated ya. And how I been treatin’ you since I’ve been back. I keep thinkin’ about how much I miss ya and how badly I want a second chance with you, even though I don’t deserve it.”

“You don’t,” you replied, lips in a tight line.

“Exactly,” Jamie wanted to smile even though your words weren’t anything to smile about. You basically confirmed that he had no chance with you, but he couldn’t even focus on that because you spoke to him. You actually said something to him. He bit the corner of his bottom lip before he continued, “So yeah, I realized that you just want me to leave ya alone and I respect that. I promise to only bother ya for brand deals and PR marketing shit. I’m sorry if I pissed you off these last few weeks. This is the last time. I-I just wanted to let you know.”

You kept your lips sealed, trying to control the emotions on your face. It seemed that you succeeded as Jamie simply nodded and walked away, but not before sending you a friendly smile and a wave of his hand.

“What the fuck?” you whispered, suddenly feeling very hot. At first you really did want to ignore Jamie, give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, that’s exactly what he did with you after Man City took him back. Once he was back in Manchester, your texts were going unanswered, phone calls gone straight to voicemail, and any shred of a relationship that the both of you shared vanished.

Before he left Richmond, you and Jamie spent a lot of time together– maybe too much time. Last season, you were a sports journalist turned photographer because the magazine your worked for were misogynistic fucks who thought sports articles written by women would never garner as much attention as those written by men. As much as you hated it, you needed money, so when they offered you a job as a photographer, you took it begrudgingly.

Jamie, being the self-centered prick that he was last season, spent a lot of time around you, hoping that you’d take more photos of him to post online. He pulled strings to let you into their private practices so you could get action shots of him and a few posed ones, though he’d never admit it. Somehow, those “candid” photos are the only ones he’d post on his socials.

Eventually, you became a regular addition to his life. He spent time with you outside of football and you found yourself seeing Jamie off the pitch in restaurants, bars, parties, basically anywhere a famous footballer might hang out. Your relationship blossomed into something else. Soon you were a regular at his apartment, which you thoroughly re-decorated because when you first got there it looked exactly like what you would expect a young, hot, single millionaire footballer’s apartment to look like.

He complained at first, saying that you were ruining his top-notch bachelor pad, but you once saw him snuggling into the throw blanket you bought for him on his couch after watching one too many episodes of The Office. Some nights, you’d sleep over because you were too tired to drive and Jamie would insist that you can stay in the guest bedroom. You’d reluctantly agree. Those nights, the both of you would stay up talking about anything and everything.

He told you about his dad on the fifth night. You told him about your asshole of a boss on the seventh. He told you about how he was scared to get comfortable at Richmond because everyone in his life that he’s ever cared about, barring Georgie, disappointed him somehow on the tenth. You told him that you might be falling in love with him that same night.

The next, you found out he was going back to Man City and you never spoke to him again.

Until today.

You spent those months hating him. And Jamie made it so easy to hate him. That was the thing about Jamie, he played the part too well. You watched in disgust as he bad-mouthed Ted and the team. You watched as he showboated during the game highlights on the recap shows. You watched as he scored the goal that caused Richmond to get relegated. Those public displays of why he deserved to be hated just added fuel to the fire of why you personally hated Jamie Tartt. But now, you found yourself searching for that Jamie because he was nowhere to be found and your feelings for him were creeping back in.

“Did Jamie just apologize to you?” Keeley asked, emerging from behind the wall. “Sorry, I was eavesdroppin’, babe.”

“No, it’s okay, Keels,” you said, looking at her. Your face was flushed, “Yeah, he did. Crazy, innit?”

“I dunno, Y/N,” she replied, thinking about how she was going to phrase her next few words. “It seems like he’s changed. Seems like he really wants to make amends.”

“Cheers to him,” you rolled your eyes, beginning to walk toward the locker room once more. “The day I give Jamie Tartt another chance is the day the world ends.”

part ii: treacherous

part iii: daylight

#ted lasso #ted lasso fics #ted lasso oneshot #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso series #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x yn #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt series #frances writes #frances song fics

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heyidkyay · 5 months

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it.

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep.

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me.

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand.

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky.

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs.

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done.

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard.

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more.

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon.

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated.

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.”

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about.

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it.

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile.

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me.

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start Pulling all the stops out On the down low, secretly But I think you knew your psychology Was working on me Infatuated And doing this all wrong You've got My number and my name And you've got me going Yeah, you've got me going Can I see you every day? Do you love me Like I love you? Ah, you've got me going Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me.

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand.

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me?

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays.

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick.

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him.

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings.

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal.

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway.

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him.

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before.

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv.

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which.

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down.

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.”

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...”

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks.

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?”

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind.

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.”

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

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