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head-roc · 7 hours ago
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XTRA! XTRA!! "An act of reparations" - Richmond Free Pree (November 21-24, 2024)
A Powerful Breathtaking Headline, Right?Read the News Story: https://richmondfreepress.com/…/21/an-act-of-reparations/ Testimony: It has been an honor to Run with The Happily Natural Day the past Year under the leadership of its creator and founder Black Rock Star Super Hero Duron L Chavis. A year ago, I officially came on board as Project Manager of the Bensley Agrihood Planning Project (we…
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mauvecherie-writes · 1 month ago
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FREAKTOBER 04 | terry richmond.
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RATING: 18+ NSFW mature. [not my best writing I will admit.]
🎀 FREAKTOBER MASTERLIST 🎀
A loud moan escaped before you could stop it. A deep chuckle came from behind you as he pressed his chest into your back which pushed him deeper into you. His large hand came to your neck and gripped it to turn your head.
“You’ve got to be quiet baby.” Terry spoke into your ear with a teasing tone in his voice. “You don’t want the party to hear you getting fucked, do you?”
“Then stop fucking me so good then.” You whispered back. You felt the smirk on his lips against your cheek before he placed a kiss on it.
“Sorry, I can’t do that.” Terry said. “I have to make sure that I have you coming back for more.” His free hand then came to the lower part of your back and pushed down to arch you forward.
As your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you thought about how dirty this whole situation was. Getting fucked in your brother’s guest bathroom by his new friend.
You didn’t care about the optics of it all as his dick was pushing through your tight pussy and touching spots your past lovers could not reach. Damn it all, all you wanted and needed in that moment was for Terry to keep doing what he was doing.
He groaned against your shoulder, kissing and nipping sat your flushed skin before letting his hand drop from your neck to your chest to cup your exposed breast into his large palm.
From your bent position, you tried your best to push back against his thrusts, squeezing your walls around him each time he pulled his dick out. You smiled at the change of pattern in his breathing as your hips moved in perfect rhythm.
“This pussy is so good, shit.’ He managed to stutter out. You looked back and the intense gaze of his molten grey eyes that drew you in initially sent a shiver down the length of your spine.
“Fuck me harder.” You begged. You held on the forearm of the hand that was on your waist. At the back of your mind, you had began panicking about the time. You knew that you had been gone for close to ten minutes and very soon, your brother was going to be looking for you.
Pure adrenaline was rushing through your veins as Terry drove into your pussy harder and faster. His pounding was infectious and it was making you dizzy from the pleasure.
“Kiss me.” You whimpered and Terry did not need telling twice as he pulled you back, curving your back even further so that you could meet his lips. You moaned into his mouth as you deepened the kiss, your tongue teasing his.
“I”m about to cum.” You whispered as your muscles tightened as your orgasm was close.
“Cum for me, baby.” He whispered against your lips. “Let me feel you drench this dick.” His words didn’t stop as he also felt his climax approaching. As you cunt clenched around him, you crashed your lips into his to muffle your whines as your pussy pulsated around him as you came.
That brought his climax forward.
Terry pulled out of you just in time for him to spill on your ass cheeks.
You stayed still until he moved behind you to grab some tissues and began cleaning up the mess that the both of you had made. Once the top of your dress was back in place, you turned around and Terry placed his hands on either side of you.
“Are you going to give me back my underwear?” You asked as you soothed out the creases of his t-shirt.
“Nah, those are mine now. Need something to remember you by.”
“Stick around and you won’t need a token reminder.”
“Yeah.” He dragged out the word as if he was thinking. “I think I’ll be sticking around a little longer.” He murmured, licking his lips before he reached forward. But just as he was about to kiss you once more, knock came to the bathroom door.
Your breath ceased in your throat.
“Aye Terry! You okay in there?” The voice of your brother came through which forced your eyes shut as you tried to keep still.
“Yeah, I’m alright. I was just taking some time alone. I’ll be out in a minute.” Trey quickly responded.
“Cool. Have you seen my sister? She just disappeared.”
“Um, on my way in I saw her walking somewhere with her phone. It looked pretty urgent.”
“Probably that new guy that has her nose in her phone lately.” Your brother said. You had to bite your lip to stop the laughter that wanted to come out. “See you out there.”
“Aight man. See you out there.”
Once your brother moved away from the door, the laugh that had been trapped within your throat spilled out.
“So, I had you smiling down at your phone huh?” Terry asked with a smirk of confidence on his face which caused you to roll your eyes playfully and you pushed him away by his shoulder.
“You’re not that funny.” You mumbled trying not to boost his ego even further. Losing your control and pulling him into the bathroom at a barbecue was already enough for his pride.
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if you’re not on the list, I couldn’t tag you 💔
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mymindisneverhere · 24 days ago
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FAVORS
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Part Two
warnings: 18+, MDNI!, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, lots of dialogue, slight smut, slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)
Part One
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“Fuck.” He grunted through gritted teeth, looking down at her as she went to work on him. 
She stuck her tongue out and ran it up the bottom of his shaft moaning from the sweet taste of him, never tearing her gaze from his. She wrapped her red stained lips around the head of his dick slightly sucking, drinking the pre-cum that oozed from it. 
“You know how long I’ve been wanting to do this to you?” She spoke softly, kissing down the length of his dick.  
He lifted his head to get a better view of her. He struggled a bit, giving that he was flat on his back, limbs stretched and bound to the bed. He bit his bottom lip, trying his hardest not to completely fold under her spell. It was becoming harder and harder by the second as she continued building his anticipation. 
She ran her tongue back up to the tip again before taking in every inch of him at once. He could feel her throat become narrow, causing the muscles in his abdomen to tighten. After a few seconds, she raised her head and brought her eyes back to him.  
“Since the first day I met you.” She admitted, spitting the saliva that had built from her throat onto the tip of his dick.
“Oh shit.” He watched in awe as she bit her lip, admiring her mess. She was so damn pretty and so damn nasty. 
“If you’re good, I’ll let you feel how wet this pussy is all because of you…” 
*BEEP BEEP BEEP* 
Terry’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his alarm going off. He rested a heavy hand on top of the loud clock silencing it. Waking up 6:00 sharp every morning on the weekdays was his new norm. He sat up swinging his legs over the side of the bed and made his way to the bathroom in his small apartment. 
His morning routine was very simple: shower, wash his face, brush his teeth, oatmeal for breakfast and a protein shake for the road. He dressed in his usual uniform, gray t-shirt and khaki pants, sure that he was in dress code for work. 
‘1 Text Message from Summer’ 
Summer: Goodmorning, have a good day at work. Stop by afterwards, got something for you. 
Terry: Goodmorning, be there as soon as I clock out. 
With that, he hopped in his truck and headed off to another long eight hour shift on the job. 
The break room was filled with all of the morning shift workers waiting around until it was time to punch the clock and get to work. Most of them were preparing their usual morning coffees, others rushing to finish the last of their breakfast.
Terry greeted everyone as he headed over to the television, grabbing the remote to flip through the channels. 
“Goodmorning gentlemen.” Khloé greeted the break room full of men, causing everyone to fall silent. 
“Morning Ms. MacArthur!” The men greeted back in unison.
Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on him standing in front of the television watching the morning news. 
“Mr. Richmond!” She called out. 
He turned his head to look in her direction, his body still facing the tv. 
“Yes ma’am?” 
“If you have a minute, I’d like to speak with you in my office.” 
This earned Terry a few looks, some riddled with skepticism others just being plain immature. He placed the remote back into its designated spot and turned to follow behind her. 
They made their way down the long hall toward her office. He looked down at her legs, each step directly in front of the other as her heels clicked in a rhythm. The tall heels elongated her smooth legs, free of any marks or blemishes. He was trying his hardest to remain a gentleman but the way her ass moved with each step reminded him that he was still a man at the end of the day. 
She opened the door to her office and held out her hand signaling for him to enter. Her back was pressed against the tall door as he stepped into the office looking around the room. 
“Have a seat.” Khloé pointed to the large chair. 
Terry obliged. 
“Mr. Richmond, I’ve learned a lot about you in the last twenty-four hours.” She closed the office door and walked over to the desk, standing directly in front of him. “You’re one hell of a guy.” 
Terry sat quietly, unaware of what she was talking about. 
“I mean look at you, you scream ‘good guy who takes down bad guys’.” 
“I’m not understanding.” Terry stated, looking up at her. 
“I’m talking about Shelby Springs-“ She began, pushing herself back onto the desk. Her legs crossed at the ankle, hanging as she looked down at him. “-taking down those cops all by yourself. I’m impressed.” 
She went on to tell him what she had gathered from the news article but he couldn’t focus on her words. The way her mouth moved as she spoke, that bright red lipstick she wore brought back memories in an instant. Images begin to flash in his mind as he slowly remembers… 
The dream. 
The dream he had last night of those same lips wrapped around his dick made him shift in the chair, sitting up straight. He was hoping to hide the excitement he was beginning to feel the longer he stared at her mouth. 
He stared for so long they were beginning to move in slow motion. Her teeth were a natural white color, perfectly aligned and her choice of lip stain brought out her deep cupid's bow. The way her lips pursed every time she said “Richmond” was making him harder by the second. 
“Mr. Richmond?” She repeated, bringing him back into reality. 
“Ma’am?”
“Is there something in my teeth?” She asked, tilting her head. 
“No ma’am, I’m sorry.” 
“That’s okay, I’m just so used to your gorgeous eyes and that strong eye contact. I thought something may be wrong with my mouth.” She giggled. 
‘It’s not around my dick.’
“Forgive me, but I kinda zoned out. Could you repeat that last part?” 
“I said you’re a brave man. It takes a lot of courage to do what you did all by yourself.” 
Terry looked down at his lap and back up at her. “I had some help but thank you.” 
“It must’ve been really hard for you though, with your cousin passing, you being shot and all.” 
“It was tough but I’m okay.” 
She continued staring at him admiring his humble attitude. He could’ve easily walked around with his chest poked and God-like complex but truly he was just an innocent man. She loved that though, the more innocent he appeared to be, the more damage she could do to him.
“I saw that they took all of your savings from you. Did you ever get it back?” She asked. 
“Only enough to post his bail but that’s it.” 
“What were you planning to do with the rest?” 
“Well I was hoping to head out of town and start fresh.” He responded. “But I’m here. I’m alive and well, so as long as I still have the ability to work, I can build back up to that point eventually.” 
“I mean $26,000, that’s a large amount to try and save up at a job like this, no?” Khloé knew what she was doing, trying to sniff out some desperation so she could have the upper hand when she put her offer on the table. 
“It is but it’s not impossible.” 
‘Determined.’ She thought to herself. 
She worried that his “can do” attitude would cause him to turn down her proposal. I mean overall he wasn’t just some broke down victim of racism, he was just a man playing the cards life had dealt him, with no complaints. 
“What would you say if I told you I could give you the rest? It was $26,000 right?” She smiled, trying to appear harmless.
Terry stared up at her in confusion. He had just met her only a day ago and now she’s offering him a large amount of money. He knew nothing in life was free and he could smell the proposition from a mile away. However, he was not interested. 
“Why would you do that?” He chuckled slightly. 
“I want to help you.” She lied. “Some of the men in my family were in the military as well. I couldn’t imagine what life would be like for them if all of their hard work went down the drain at the hands of a couple of racist pigs.” 
They sat in silence staring at each other, both parties trying their hardest to read the other. She couldn’t possibly think he was gullible enough to just accept money from a stranger without returning the favor. But he couldn’t be silly enough to turn down an offer like this.
“No thank you Ms. MacArthur.” Terry stood up from the chair preparing to leave the office. 
“I’m not done speaking with you Mr. Richmond-“ She spoke, stopping him in his tracks, her soft tone never wavering. “and I don’t take no for an answer.” 
Terry let out a deep sigh before turning to face her yet again. 
“I’m sure you could use the money right now. A better place to stay, a nicer car, overall financial security. That sounds good doesn’t it?” She was milking it as best she could.
Terry had to admit to himself, all of it sounded great. To go from living comfortably to $0 was a struggle he fought through daily. He could go to his old friend Mr. Liu for money here and there but he wanted to have his own so that he wouldn’t be a constant bother to others. 
“What could you possibly want in return?” Terry asked cutting straight to chase. 
“You.” 
The look on her face letting him know she was dead serious. 
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” 
Terry frowned in pure confusion, there was no hiding it this time. 
“And what do you want me to do?” 
‘To fuck me.’ 
The corner of Khloés lip turned up into a slight smirk before answering.
“My family’s having their annual banquet and every year I get flack for not having a date. I’m the youngest daughter and all of my siblings are either married with children or engaged.” She admitted. “I need a date for the banquet and for other events so I was just wondering if you could be my “boyfriend” until I don’t need you anymore?” 
Terry sat silently, replaying what he had just heard in his mind a few times. He was having a hard time believing that this beautiful woman needed to pay a man to be her boyfriend. Men would worship the ground she walked on.
“A woman like you needs to pay a man to be with her?” Terry questioned. “There has to be a catch to all of this.” 
“Sadly, it’s my reality.” She admitted. “There is no catch. A very independent and ambitious woman like myself who’s financially well off thanks to her family, has a hard time with men who want to feel needed… and in control.” 
“And if I decline?” 
“Well I really don’t like being told no, so think long and hard about this.” Khloé said before hopping off of her desk. “You can get back to me on it tomorrow with any boundaries you’d like to set in place and I’ll see if I can accommodate you.” 
She smiled at him, unmoved by his obvious discomfort. Terry stared at her for just a few moments before awkwardly turning and exiting the office. 
“Have a good day at work!”
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“It’s open!” Summer yelled from the kitchen of her tiny home. 
Terry entered the home, pulling the screen door and walking into the living room. Summer and Terry had managed to maintain their friendship after all the shit they had been through in Shelby Springs together. 
“You got a package today from the city, it’s on the table.” 
Terry grabbed the large folder from the table, opening it as he looked over at Summer. 
“What you cooking in here?” He asked, leaning against the wooden counter. 
“Just some soup, baby has a cold so I’m tryin’ my hardest to nurse her back to health.” Summer responded, stirring the soup slowly. “Seems like the more time she spends at that school the sicker she gets.” 
Summer had to enroll her daughter Bailey into the nearest public elementary school. The only problem was their lack of care and consideration for the children’s education and well being. This was the third time Bailey had been sick since the school year began. 
She didn’t want to send her to school to avoid the possibility of spreading the cold to other kids. But she also didn’t want Child Protective Services to revoke her full custody of her daughter because she misses so much school. 
“I really want her in the private school where my old coworkers' kids go. I just want her to get a good education and not have to be subject to the same conditions I had, you know?” Summer stated, looking over at Terry. 
“I understand.” 
“But the cost of tuition is just so much, I mean I get that it’s one of the only private schools around here but $10,000 for a 3rd grader is nuts, and that’s if I enroll her for just two years.” She said, shaking her head. “I just need her in a good school, just until I get the green light from CPS that we’re good to pack up and go.” 
Terry frowned as he saw the disappointment and sadness in Summers' face. He knew she wanted to be the best mother she could be and to prove not only to herself but to everyone else that she could successfully raise Bailey to be a phenomenal young woman. 
“That is a bit expensive but don’t lose hope, you never know what could happen in the future.” He spoke confidently, hoping to ease her worry she had for Bailey’s future but it wasn’t working. 
The more Summer spoke about this new school and her needing to pick up an extra job, the more Terry was revisiting Khloés offer in his mind. The thought of him posing as a rich girl's boyfriend for money was insane to him. But the look on Summers face pained him. The offer wasn’t sounding as crazy the more he imagined the peace she’d get knowing Bailey was in a good school.
“What’s in the folder?”
“Just some bullshit about Shelby Springs.” He responded, throwing the papers in the trash. 
“Work going okay?” 
Terry debated on telling her about his encounter with Khloé but decided against it. 
“Same ol same ol.” 
“I know it’s not what you were looking forward to doing but at least you got some good benefits. You being an ex-marine really helps in jobs like that.” 
“Yeah but I just wish Mike was here with me. I just wish my plan went through the way I wanted it to but-“ He shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “-life is gone do what it wants… just gotta roll with it.” 
Summer nodded in agreement. 
“Mommy?” Bailey yelled from the back room. 
“Sorry, duty calls.” Summer said, running to her daughter's bedroom. 
“That’s okay, you take care of her. I’m gonna head out.” 
“Thank you for stopping by, I’ll be sure to bring you some lunch sometime this week!” Summer yelled from her daughter's room. 
“I’ll be looking forward to it!”
With that, Terry left Summers home and headed to his second sanctuary, the 24 hour gym. 
Terry grunted heavily as he lifted the barbell above his chest. He was doing his usual upper body routine. He’d inhale and exhale in the same rhythm as his movements. Inhale, lower, exhale, lift. Making his last set count he trained to failure and then placed the bar back onto its rack. 
He sat up on the bench resting in between the next workout, steadying his breathing. 
‘You know how long I’ve been wanting to do this to you?’
His head shot up as he looked in the mirror. The voice was so close, he thought someone was standing right next to him. The voice… her voice… it was so soft at the same time bold and insistent. 
He shook it off and stood, preparing for a set of bicep curls. He lifted the 30 lb weights in each hand and began counting to himself. 
1…
2…
5…
6…
‘Mr. Richmond?’ 
10…
11… 
‘…I’ll let you feel how wet this pussy is…’
“12!” He said in a loud grunt. He slammed the dumbbells down to the ground and placed his hands on his hips. He shook his head as he tried his hardest to shake the sound of her voice. There was no way this woman was having a hold on him and he barely knew her. 
It didn’t help that he hadn’t been with a woman in a long time. He had been so focused on getting his personal life on track, it left him no room for dating. Plus the women who were interested in him were so easy and a man like Terry loved a woman who challenged him.
“You done with those?” Another man in the gym asked Terry, bringing him back to reality for a split second. 
“Yeah man, go ahead.” He responded. 
It had only been a few hours and she was invading his mind. The more he tried focusing on his workout the more he’d hear her voice and see those lips. He knew the only way to get her off his mind was to do something he hadn’t done in a while. 
“I gotta have her.” He whispered to himself. 
Next work day… 
“Ms. MacArthur, there’s an employee in your office. He didn’t say why he needed to speak to you but he didn’t look too happy.” Olivia notified her. 
Khloé rolled her eyes, hoping it wasn’t another disgruntled worker complaining about their job. “Thank you Liv.” 
She walked to her office and opened the door, noticing the back of his head first. He sat there patiently waiting for her, never turning to acknowledge her presence. 
“Mr. Richmond, I’m so happy to see you.” Khloé smiled, placing her purse on the desk. 
He eyed her, taking in her entire figure this time. She was truly an attractive woman. Her hair was pressed straight and tucked behind her ears. She wore a black and white two piece skirt set and white stilettos matching the buttons on her top. Her skin was a rich deep caramel tone that always popped when she wore her signature red lip. 
Her attire was simple yet still screamed luxury. There wasn’t anything out of place on her, everything went together so perfectly. Which is why Terry was dying to figure out why a woman like her would be offering to pay a man like him to be with her. 
“My eyes are up here Mr. Richmond.” She smirked.
He locked his eyes onto hers and remembered why he was there. “I accept.” 
Khloés lips spread into a large smile.
“Of course you d-“
“But I have a few conditions.” Terry interrupted. “I only want $10,000 for myself, the rest needs to go to my family.” 
“Your family?” 
“Yes, they need some assistance and I’d prefer to give the majority of the money to them. It’ll ease their worries and mine.”
Khloés head jerked back in disbelief. Here he was again proving himself to be a humble man. Only wanting less than half of what she was offering for himself and the rest for his family. She almost felt bad for not telling him the whole truth about this “deal”… almost. 
“Well if that’s all you wan-“ 
“Allow me to finish.” Terry cut her off, again.
His strong, authoritative voice made her pussy tingle. She squirmed in her seat and cleared her throat as she returned her attention to him. This was the first time she had actually been turned on by a hint of dominance from the opposite sex. Maybe because it wasn’t being forced. It just came natural to him. 
“I would like the check for $16,000 made out to this name and sent to this address.” Terry stated, sliding a small piece of notebook paper across the desk. 
‘Summer McBride, 555 Conner St’ 
Khloé took it and placed it into her purse for safe keep. 
“If this is going to put me in jeopardy of losing my job then tell me now because I really don’t like surprises.”
“It won’t, I promise.” 
“This needs to stay between us. I can be whoever you need me to be outside of work but when I'm here I'm just an employee, nothing more.” He stated firmly. 
They eyed each other for a few moments, almost as if they were in a standoff. Dominant vs Dominant, Alpha vs Alpha. But there could only be one and it was going to be Khloé. She took a deep breath before speaking, choosing her tone and words wisely. 
“I’m not sure if you’re aware Mr. Richmond, but I'm the one calling the shots.” She said, leaning onto her desk. 
“You asked me for my boundaries and I'm giving them to you. What's the problem?” He asked leaning forward as well, resting his arms on his knees.
She smiled, pausing to take note of this. He wasn’t going to be an easy fix but she enjoyed a “project”. She decided to let him have this round. She would get her turn eventually. 
“No problem.” She continued smiling. “Now, my rules. Rule number one, be on time! I prefer to meet at my home a few hours before we head out so that we’re clear on our attire for each event. Rule number two, no ex-girlfriends or situationships. If you have someone, call it off, I-“ 
“If I had someone, do you think I’d be sitting in your office right now?” He bluntly asked, staring blankly at her. 
He was really testing her patience, not on purpose though. However she was still taking note of it all, planning to make great use of it in the future. 
“I don’t want any women popping up here or anywhere else asking for or about you. I don’t like for anyone to have one-up on me.” She continued. “Rule number three, speak when spoken to.” 
This earned her an unpleasant look from him. 
“There will be many people at the banquet, if they don’t ask you anything then you don’t say anything. Rule number four, don’t embarrass me, ever! I don’t do well with humiliation. Lastly, rule number five, you’re mine! Which means you need to carry yourself that way. Be mindful of who you interact with and how, I’m a very observant woman.” 
Terry sat unmoved. 
“Are we clear?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 
Terry smirked, scoffing at her bossy attitude. He wasn’t truly buying it though, he just thought it was cute. 
“Yes ma’am.” 
“I love the way you say yes ma’am, make it a habit.” 
He clenched his jaw as his dick jumped. The combination of flashbacks from the dream he had of her and the interaction he was having with her in real time was making it harder for him to remain stoic. 
“I will pay the $10,000 to you in small amounts at a time.” She started, “As long as you follow my rules, you get the payments on time. The moment you disobey me or go against our agreement, you deal with the consequences.” She was speaking to this grown ass man as if he were a child or her servant, which technically he kind of was. 
Terry still sat, this time admiring her bossiness. The way she was throwing out orders, the way she wasn’t beating around the bush or trying to cover up her controlling personality had him feening for her. And those damn lips… 
“Mr. Richmond?” She called out, snapping him out of his daze. 
“So when’s the banquet?” He asked, trying to hide the fact that he had zoned out once again. 
“Next Friday. I’ll send you my address so you can get fitted for your tux. We have a very strict dress code.” Khloé turned to her computer, before looking at him once more. “You’re dismissed.” 
Terry's lips spread into a smile as he stood up from the chair and exited the office. This was going to be a tough one but nothing he couldn’t handle… so he thought.
to be continued… 
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notapradagurl7 · 2 months ago
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By Your Side.
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BlackFem!Witch!Reader x Terry Wizard!Richmond from Netflix film Rebel Ridge.
Taglist: @lovedlover @avoidthings @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @brattyfics @soft-persephone @planetblaque @sageispunk @megamindsecretlair @theblacklewinsky @sweettea-and-honeybutter @melaninpov @keyera-jackson @browngirldominion
Summary: You were a gifted professor for all black magic academy, teaching your students alongside Terry, where you discover a strange flower and leaves you alone with him.
A/N: don’t forget to re-blog, comment and like to support your favorite writers, and press the button for a request, So I was thinking in order to get back in the zone of writing, I combined Harry Potter but made it with only black people. Why not? Enjoy!🫡
Warning: +18, dirty talk, sex pollen, profanity, nipple play, violence, praise, spanking, use of magic, soft Terry, protective Terry, aftercare, brat reader, Terrybrat tamer! Slight corruption kink, masturbation,
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—————
You stood beside Terry underneath the tree with your almond brown eyes watching the young adult melanated students of various shades standing side by side with their indestructible wands rested in their hands, pointing straight for the Greek god statues, the yellow energy crackling from their fingertips and spreading towards it, creating their own versions of art. Making the statues into themselves.
"Look at them go," Terry said, his voice smooth and playful, as he leaned closer to you. His cloak moved slightly with his movements.
"I think they’re actually going to turn that statue into a giant version of themselves. I mean, who knew they had such big egos?" he joked, rolling his green eyes at them.
You chuckled, nudging him playfully with your elbow. "Well, they certainly have the talent to back it up. Just look at how they’re channeling their energy. It’s fucking impressive!”
You couldn’t help but smile at their joy, laughter bursting from their lips, their hair styled in small afros, low fades, in locs, box braided to their elbows, starighted and lastly, dressed in black, red, yellow, green hooded cloaks dawned to their ankles, black loafers and Mary Ann shoes.
“Remember when we were students at Willowstiff? Professor Anderson almost caught us passing notes in Potion class?” Terry mentioned with a grin, his tone was deep yet gentle.
You were a professor at the Wiilowstiff Academy alongside Terry Richmond, many other professors and your students talking about whatever crossed their mind, unfortunately gossip and rumors spread like wildfire on campus.
“Thankfully, I used that Change Emotion and Time Spell, he forgot immediately,” You chuckled, and your eyes landed on him.
You nodded at the fond memory of being a student at the same academy, where you and Terry became professors, the two of you had been good friends since you were students. Ready to conquer the world and defeat evil.
“I’d always liked that about you, your quick thinking and wit...”
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lips at his words, watching the students float in mid-air while doing back flips. “And I always liked your honesty and kindness Terry..”
Standing behind the castle, located in the spacious backyard, the castle painted grey nestled in the middle of the vast forest, hidden from human eyes, danger and free to be themselves without judgment, without the ridicule of the world, the green grass underneath their shoes.
“Terry...” you began, your voice soft. “Do you ever think about how far we’ve come? From those awkward kids in class to where we are now?”
He met your gaze, the warmth in his green eyes making your heart flutter. “Yes. And I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else. You’re the best partner a guy could ask for.”
His words washed over you like a gentle wave, and you felt a rush of affection for him. You smiled back at Terry.
The school was built by a married black couple with magic, wanting young black witches and wizards to harness their magic and embrace their identity. It was a sanctuary, a home where they could grow their powers and learn the rich history of their ancestors.
It was a luxury that you cherished forever, being yourself in various ways, even the forest was magic, hidden away in the depths of somewhere.
The ink black sky decorated with sparkling stars hovered the both of you, you pointed out to one student that asked for help, trying a different spell and it worked perfectly, Terry stole glances with his green eyes, smirking at the man as you walked back to his side.
The buzzing rumor in the air was Terry had a crush on you ever since you both became professors at this campus.
You were dressed in a black cloak with a dress, your black box braids pulled back in a ponytail. Your melanated skin glistened underneath the moonlight, your pretty face on cue.
The college students were young after all, often showing insouciance in some schoolwork, but loved doing the magic part of the school, you were like that but they changed over the years.
“Good job Faith! I see your technique, and Jordan! Don't show off because you like her!”
The brown-skinned young male rubbed the back of his neck and looked the other way. The wind brushed across your face and you exhaled the warm breeze.
Until one of your students discovered something growling near the stump of a bulky tree, your eyes quickly stopped her, “Amaya! Don't touch that!” you yelled out.
Amaya backed up immediately until the flower growled at her, eyes glowing red and growing larger, “well..well..time to eat!”
Amaya ran toward you and hid behind you, gripping your cloak. The young dark brown-skinned woman closed her eyes shut in fear, her locs pulled back.
“W-what is that?!” she exclaimed, you wrapped her in a protective manner.
“It’s a dangerous creature that kills witches and wizards, he spreads sex pollen, hopefully you won’t get affected..” You warned softly.
Terry’s eyes landed on you, “I'll assist by your side, Professor..”
You clapped twice and caught their attention, “Okay, students time to head in your dorms!! You too Amaya!”
The students groaned in unison and said “Yes, Professor L/N!” in a cautious tone, they walked in groups and, you rolled your eyes at them once again. Running off in separate groups and saying their goodbyes.
Being the ex-Marine he was, Terry's arms gathered around the students and made a motion with his hands for a swirling portal, the students jumped through the portal and vanished quickly.
“Thank you, Terry..”
“You’re welcome Y/N..” he said, standing by your side.
With a flick of your wrist, you summoned your own energy, feeling the warmth of your magic flow through your body. Terry did the same, bursting beams of light while Terry struck it with lighting.
The petals clutched around the yellow stem, throwing pollen at you. It exploded and the pink specks of pink pollen, fallen down near you and Terry until blew it away with a wave of his hand. Winds blew it into thin air.
“Are you alright?” He asked with concern, quickly turning to you.
You shook your head from side to side, “Unfortunately, the residue of the pink pollen doesn’t have to just touch you, it spreads like a virus.” You coughed, covering your mouth with your cloak.
“I should’ve acted quickly enough then you wouldn’t be affected, I’m sorry..” Terry replied softly, his face turned toward the flower that changed to a man.
Terry zoomed toward the flower man, his hands gripping the collar of his shirt and punched him in the stomach, lighting dancing around his fist. His hands gripped his ankles and flipped the man over, Blood trickled from its gut and sent the man sprawling into the ocean.
After the battle, your knees shaking weakly and almost fell to the grass, until Terry caught you with his hands. A heavy fever washed over you rather quickly, your breath became heavy.
The pollen made heat pool all over your body, your heart beating faster than usual, and an ache between your legs that started to hurt. You gazed at Terry and your breath hitched, clenching your legs again.
Your eyes fell to his lips, body, and face. Terry was so pretty, you whimpered softly but he kept asking you if you were okay, all you could do was shake your head. Familiar wetness pools between your thighs.
“T-Terry…I feel aroused and..” before you say another word, Terry lifted you carefully and carried your bridal style, snapping his fingers and a swirling green portal appeared before you, he stepped through it and you were in his spacious bedroom, your eyes roamed the place.
The four walls in sage green surrounding the two of you, The dim light from the candles flickered around the room, casting playful shadows on the walls. You could smell the rich aroma of incense wafting through the air, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs and a hint of something sweet like citrus.
The ex-Marine turned wizard professor carried the trauma with him but teaching the students helped subside it, seared in his brain for battle.
It was very clean from what you saw, with not much decoration but a regular room with the walls painted in sage green, rock music was his favorite genre. Deftones, Paramore & Radiohead were both of your favorites.
His head leaned in closer slightly, enough to give you space and his face softened, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he should’ve been more responsible. “This is so fucking bad, I gotta help you,” he said softly.
“The plant must've had some kind of aphrodisiac,” He spoke to you, catching your body shake from his touch.
“W-we can go back to the castle, they can help but I forgot that you don't live near the campus,” you said weakly, coughing still.
“I already notified the professors about the problem Y/N through a call, Genevieve is already up my ass about it..” Terry sighed, rolling his eyes.
Terry gently laid you on his bed, the blanket sprawled across the edge of the bed. He lifted your ankles and he looked at you with worry, “May I take off your shoes?” He asked gently.
Genevieve would usually scold Terry about anything when it came to you, she understood that he was an ex-Marine and you were friends but she was your sister. Like two peas in a pod, it seemed like no matter what happened, Terry was there to protect you.
“Gen is very protective, you know that,” you giggled.
“I get that but she’s always blaming me..” he mentioned with a soft tone.
You nodded at him, “its not your fault. Yes, you may. I'm starting to become hot in these clothes,” watching the man gently unzipped your black boots.
“Y/N, are you alright? The pollen…it can have some intense side effects.”
You could feel the heat radiating from your skin, and for a moment, you were lost in the warmth of his gaze. “I’ll be fine, Terry. Just a little… overwhelmed,” you admitted, your voice shaky as you tried to sit up.
“I’m a delicate flower, you know,” you huffed, trying to sound tough despite the heat coursing through your body. “I can handle myself.”
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Oh, I know you can. But right now, you look like you could use a little help. Let me take care of you for once, alright?”
You watched him as he knelt by the edge of the bed, his strong hands gently untying your shoes. The tenderness in his movements made your heart race, and you feel a flutter in your stomach.
He looked up at you, his expression serious yet playful. “Maybe I just like having an excuse to be close to you,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he tossed your shoes aside to the corner of the room.
Your feet rested on the bed, You felt your cheeks warm. “You’re such a dork.”
“A dork who cares about you,” he retorted, a hint of sincerity in his tone. “And I’m not going to let you down when you need me.”
Your eyes landed on his ass, it was really nice. “Stop staring at my ass, girl.” he shot back.
You giggled softly, and your cheeks grew hot while you bit down on your lip. Was this pollen or only you alone? Maybe it was you, you liked Terry but the rules said that professors shouldn’t have a relationship.
You took off your cloak and tossed your dress aside, grabbing one of Terry’s oversized tee shirts, sliding it down, dawning to your thighs. “T-Terry.. I’ll be in the bathroom..”
You rushed into the bathroom and locked the door, you sat on the closed toilet lid. Gently pull down your panties and pull off the oversized tee shirt. Your fingers sunk between your folds and you moaned loudly. “Fuck!”
You rubbed your left titty in a circle and fingered yourself for the past fourteen minutes, thinking of Terry made it worse and pleasuring yourself wasn't working, fuck. This is embarrassing, you couldn't cum.
You stood up from the toilet and washed your hands clean, drying them with a towel. You sighed in irritation. “Y/N? Are you
You opened the door and pouted again, Terry
Terry carefully peeled away the layers of your cloak, revealing the soft fabric of your dress beneath. He paused, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, a hint of something electric passing between you.
“How come you didn't get affected by the pollen? This is unfair..” you grumbled, unbuttoning the front of your dress and you allowed it to fall to your sock-clad feet.
“I'm pretty good at what I do..” he bragged, shrugging.
“C-can you pass me one of your tee shirts please?” you asked him in a gentle tone.
Terry’s gaze widened for a moment as he processed your request, and a teasing smile crept onto his lips. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, don’t you?” He stood up, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as he walked to his closet.
“Just a shirt, Terry. Not a marriage proposal,” you shot back, trying to sound playful, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at nonchalance.
He chuckled, pulling out a soft, oversized orange tee that bore the logo of a band you both liked. “This should do the trick,” he said, tossing it to you. “But I might need to charge you for it later.”
You caught the shirt, a laugh escaping your lips. “I’ll pay you with my undying gratitude,” you quipped, pulling the shirt over your head. The fabric was warm and comforting, but the heat from the pollen still simmered beneath your skin.
As he settled back on the edge of the bed, his eyes studied you with a mix of concern and something deeper. “
You didn't want either of you to lose your jobs because of one night, he was only taking care of you at the moment. You were nervous around him.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, causing your heart to skip a beat.
“Terry, focus,” you said, trying to maintain your composure. “I’m not in the mood for flattery.”
“Y/N. Let me make the antidote.” He turned to stand up and faced his bedside table.
Terry snapped his fingers, a book appeared in front of him and turned the pages, took off his cloak and revealed his body clad in a suit, his body through the clothes was memorizing.
“Sex pollen, the side effects are heat in the body, fever and weakness. arousal, I'm making the antidote and the other cure is physical contact..” Terry trailed off, his voice deepened.
His hand grabbed the steaming cup from the air, a hint of honey and rosemary, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste seething on your tongue, you covered your mouth. It was disgusting, did he put a goblin’s shit in the cup? Rose petals atop the tea.
“Look at me, I know it's not good but it's gonna help with that fever, just swallow and then breathe..” Terry reassured softly, humming lightly.
Swallowing it immediately after you made a gagging noise, taking a breath as he said “That was fucking gross, what did you put in that?!” you exclaimed, drinking from a cup filled with water at the beside table.
He chuckled lightly, he held up his three fingers. “In three…two..one..” he counted with a stren tone.
Your fever finally faded away, but the heat pooling between your thighs made it worse, clenching them close and your clit throbbed again.
You looked up at Terry and suddenly went silent, pursuing your lips. “My fever is gone..” you said softly.
His arms are crossed, showing off a few of his tattoos, “See what happens when you listen to your professor?” he teased with a deep tone.
Your heart raced as you tried to regain your composure. “Okay, Mr. Richmond, you’ve done your job,” you teased back, attempting to inject some levity into the moment.
“You're still flushed..”
But the heat in your body was not just from the fever; betraying you with the way you responded to him, “You know I’ve always wanted to take care of you in more ways than one,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart raced at his words, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with your own. “Terry, we shouldn’t...” you started, but the words died in your throat as he took another step closer.
“Why not?” he challenged, his voice low and sultry. “We’re both adults. We’ve been dancing around this for far too long.”
Your mind raced. You knew the rules about professors, but the thought of Terry wanting you, needing you, sent a thrill through your body. The heat between your thighs throbbed painfully, begging for attention.
“What if… what if someone finds out?” you managed to say, though your body betrayed you by leaning slightly into him.
Terry’s hand reached up, brushing a stray braid behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Let them. I’m tired of hiding how I feel about you.” His eyes searched yours, filled with longing and determination.
“I want you, Y/N. Right here, right now. I'm sure will still have our jobs, the campus was made by a married couple after all,”
Your heart raced at his confession, and the heat pooling in your core intensified. “But what if it ruins everything?” you breathed, your gaze darting to his lips, torn between desire and caution.
He stepped even closer, closing the distance between you until his body was mere inches from yours. “Sometimes things have to change to be better. I care about you too much to hold back any longer,” he said, his breath warm against your skin.
Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft yet demanding kiss. Pulling away from him, “T-Terry…uh..can you fuck me please?” you begged him, clenching on his shirt.
His hand wrapped around your neck, making sure he kept your gaze on his. “A good girl is supposed to listen and you've been a brat, the back and forth, the teasing, finger fucking yourself in my bathroom..” he shot back, smirking.
Terry carefully unbuttoned the back of your dress, falling down to your feet while it was tossed aside, he unbuttoned his shirt and zipped his pants. Clothes riddled across the brown hardwood floor.
No panties but no bra, you hated bras with a burning passion. You weren't big-chested but you loved your body. Terry pulled down his boxers, his dick hung out. Long and thick, veiny.
“I'll be good this time Terry..” you pouted with a soft tone.
He gently pushed you down on your back, he hovered over you and the tip of his dick rubbed across your clit, rubbing his dick across your folds with sweet torture. “Are you sure? You're gonna behave for me?” he teased.
“Yes…Please…fuck me! Fuck me!” you cried out, your nails left marks on his shoulders. Your pussy clenched around nothing desperately for friction and whimpering. You rubbed your clit in circles and moaned again.
Terry moved your hand out of the way, smirking at you. Resuming to rub his dick across your wet folds, “Did I say that you could fuck yourself?”
“N-no…Terry! I’ll be good, I promise!” you cried out, tears rolling down your face.
He kissed your lips, “Here’s your reward, princess..”
He flipped you on your stomach and pushed his dick between your folds from behind, you gasped softly at his dick filling you completely, the ache fading slightly after each thrust.
“Oh fuck..Terry!” you cried out, balling up the blanket. Drool trickled from your lips. The more pleasure, the less ache was there. Crossing the line with him was a bad move but you needed him.
Terry's hands gripped your hips tightly as he thrust deeper, his breath coming in warm bursts against your skin. "That's it, Y/N. Let me hear you," he urged, his voice low and deep.
You felt the heat radiating from him, mingling with your own, creating a storm of sensations that sent pleasure coursing through your veins. Each thrust made you feel fuller, more alive, as though every part of you was awakening to the moment.
“Just like that,” he continued, his pace quickening, “You’re doing so fucking well.” His words wrapped around you, igniting a fire within that made you push back against him, longing for more.
“Don’t stop, please!” you begged, your voice breathless and desperate. You could feel the tension building within you, that sweet, sweet pressure begging for release.
Terry’s grip on you tightened as he leaned over, his breath brushing against your ear. “You want to fucking come? You’ve got to ask for it,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful authority.
“Please, Terry! I need it! I need to fucking come!” you cried out, the words spilling from your lips as he continued to pound into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.
“Good girl,” he praised, his tone sultry and deep, making your heart race even faster. "Let go for me, Y/N. I want to feel you cum on my dick."
With that, you let yourself fall into the pleasure, your body arching as waves of bliss washed over you. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room as you felt yourself unraveling, the tension finally snapping as you came hard around him.
“Fuck!” Terry groaned, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “That’s it, Y/N. Just like that.”
You felt him thrust deep one last time, his body shuddering against yours as he pulled out of you, tendrils of his cum landed on your stomach, the warmth filling you completely.
As you both came down from the high, Terry pulled you close, his hands tenderly stroking your back. “You okay?” he asked softly, concern lacing his tone as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with affection.
You nodded, your heart racing from both the intensity of what just happened and the warmth of his embrace. “Yeah, I’m okay… better than okay,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face.
Terry chuckled softly, brushing a strand of a braid from your face. “Good, because I’m not done yet,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
You raised an eyebrow, feeling the heat rise again within you. “Oh really?”
He grinned, leaning in closer. “You’ve got to be ready for round two then,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he captured your mouth in a lingering kiss.
————
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theereina · 13 days ago
Text
Big Mama Pt. 6
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC
Wordcount: +2.3K
Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, no smut, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, b*tch, etc.), fluff, dirty talk, choking, Dom/Sub(brat)~relationship established
A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.
Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 5 => 🦋
*Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥
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“So, where yo’ man at? He still ain't back yet?” asked Monica. We had been on the phone chatting all morning. “I guess on the lake. He's still probably fishing,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Oh, so he out fishing, and you at home being all domestic and shit. Okay, housewife!” Monica laughed. “Shut the hell up,” I laughed.
I had been cooking all morning since Terry left. I packed his lunch in a cooler before making breakfast earlier that morning. “So, we cooking three meals a day now?” she said being messy. “Listen, you messy whore. Stop picking on me,” I said, smacking my lips. I turned back to the stove and stirred the pot of collard greens. “You right! I'll leave you alone,” Monnie said.
I walked to the fridge and pulled out the variety of shredded cheeses I bought. I poured all of them into a glass bowl I placed on the counter. Since it was too soon to cook it, I only wanted to start preparing the macaroni and cheese for now.
“We both know you're lyin’!” I said into the phone. “Girl, it's just crazy seein’ you like this. It's so fuckin' cute. You all soft and shit,” she said giggling. “Whatever!” I yelled back while rolling my eyes. “You and I both know you ain't never did no shit like this. I'm used to Big Mama who be pressin’ niggas. Now, yo’ ass in the house cookin’ for one,” she hollered. I scoffed at her remark. Was I really that down bad?
I opened the oven and checked on the cornbread. The sweet smell of honey wafted through the air. I lightly pressed the top of the bread checking the firmness. I put on an oven mitt and pulled it from the oven. I sat it on a towel on the counter. “Girl, I wish you could see this cornbread. It's beautiful,” I said smiling. “Only you would call cornbread beautiful. Keep teasing me, and imma pull up, bitch. I'll bring my own Tupperware, so don't worry!” she cackled. “So, you just gone show up to eat, then leave?” I asked. “Well, what else am I supposed to do? Y'all too busy playin’ house and shit!” Monnie stated.
“You know what? Fuck you! I'm getting off the phone,” I snorted. “That's right! You betta have Mister’s plate on that table by the time he make it home. Oh, and bring me back a niece or nephew while you at it,” she giggled. “Bye, and it's still fuck you!” I said, hanging up the phone.
At this point, I was floating through the kitchen— mixing Mac and cheese, stirring collard greens, frying and flipping chicken, and whipping up a banana pudding. It felt so good to be in my happy place.
4 hours later ~ around 7 p.m.
Rinsing off the day, Terry was upstairs taking a shower, and I was finishing the final touches for dinner. The mac and cheese was browned to perfection. The collard greens were flavorful and savory. The fried chicken was chef’s kiss. The cornbread smelled like heaven. The banana pudding was just waiting in the fridge. I had outdone myself. Maybe Monnie was right. Was I in my housewife era? Had Terry put me in soft girl mode? Ah, shit!
As I reached to retrieve the plates from the cabinet, I felt something press against my back. “I got it, mama. Let me,” Terry said, reaching over me. “Thank you,” I said, kissing his cheek. He put the plates down on the counter in front of me. “Shit, I didn't realize you had done all this. You really weren't playin’, huh?” Terry asked, wrapping his arms around my waist. He leaned over and started planting small kisses on my neck.
“If you wanna eat, you gotta leave me alone. The plates haven't even hit the table,” I giggled while shrugging my shoulder to get him to stop. “It’s a shame that a man can't have dessert before dinner,” he said, turning me around to face him. He pressed his body against mine and trapped me against the counter. “Terry, you promised to behave. Come on!” I said, pushing my hip towards him. “No, I promised to try. I did. I swear, but you look so damn good,” he said, placing his arms on the counter beside me. I whined and scrunched my face. Did I want to fuck Terry’s brains out? Yes! However, I had also spent all day cooking his favorite meal and dessert.
I folded my arms across my chest. “Ah, mama! Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. I asked you to cook for me, and you did just that. Thank you, love,” he said pulling me into him. His lips crashed into mine. He held my face in his hands and tilted my head to look him in the eyes. “Forgive me?” he asked flashing that devious smile. This sneaky bastard knew how to get me. “Yes, now move!” I said nudging him away from me.
Terry reached for the plate in front of me. “I said move. Didn't I? That means sit down, Terry!” I said rolling my eyes and laughing. I turned towards the counter, blocking him. “My bad. I don’t know what it is, but you knowin’ yo’ way around a kitchen like this makes me wanna…,” he said backing away from me. “Makes you wanna what?” I questioned as I turned around to look at him. Terry’s eyes lingered on my face and slowly dropped to my abdomen. A smile so sinister spread over his face. “I know damn well you aren’t suggestin’ that. A baby, Terry?” I scoffed while smiling. “I mean… You love me, right?” he asked while sitting at the table.
“First, it was Monnie talkin’ about bring her back a niece or nephew. Now, you! I can't deal with this. Why does everybody want me to get pregnant?” I laughed. “I don't know Monnie’s reasons because I wouldn't trust her to watch a pot of boiling water. However, I know mine, and I have… well,… many,” he said leaning back against the kitchen chair. He raised his arms so that they rested across the back. “And what might those be? Hm? I really wanna know, sir. Tell me,” I said as I turned to the food waiting on the stove.
“Don't worry about it, Mama. Just know I haven't found a reason not to. I'm just waitin' on you,” he said smiling. “Yo’ ass gone be waitin' a long ass time, too. A baby? Terry, you can't be serious!” I squealed. “A long ass time, huh? That's what you think. Imma get one out of you, ‘Vana. Best believe, I'm not gone have to trap you to do it either,” he cackled. “You know what? I'm not doin' this with you!” I said beginning to plate the food.
20 minutes later
“Done, baby?” I asked Terry while standing with my plate in my hand. “Uh,… Yeah,’’ Terry said. “You sound unsure. Baby, I ain't gone ever tell you you can't have more,” I said placing my plate in the sink. Terry’s eyes rose to meet my backside. His eyes lingered on my ass since my back was still turned. “More of what?” Terry asked biting his lip. I could sense a hint of something in his voice. I peeked over my shoulder to see him watching me. I giggled at his antics. “Terry? You know I can see you, right?” I said walking back to the table. I leaned over so that my face was close to his. If this was the game he wanted to play, let’s do it!
“Mmm. Why you playin’ wit’ me, ‘Vana?” he said shifting in his seat. “It’s easy,” I responded. “Oh, really?” he said licking his lips. I could feel his breath on my face. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. I could tell he was becoming more aroused by the second. “You never answered my question, honey. Do you want more?” I asked squatting down in front of him. “And you never answered mine. More of what?’” Terry asked as he leaned up to gently grab my chin. “You want my honest answer?” I asked placing my hands on his knees.
Terry's eyes watched my hands. “Of course, I want honesty, mama. Talk to me,” he said letting his thumb stroke my cheek. “If Daddy wants more, he can have whatever the fuck he wants,” I said trailing my hands up his thighs. Terry’s movements stilled, and his eyes shot up to my face. His eyes clouded with lust and darkened with desire.
Terry’s grip on my chin tightened as he used it to pull me forward. My knees hit the floor so I was kneeling in front of him. I leaned over and let my cheek rest on his growing erection. “Mamas, don't start something you can't finish. If you aren't ready for this, find you something safe to do,” he said. “The fuck is that supposed to mean,” I snapped as I looked up at him. “Aye, watch yourself. You heard me, little girl. I meant what I said,” he said grabbing my chin again. “Me? A little girl? Does someone need a reminder of who the fuck I am?” I asked leaning back on my calves and folding my arms across my chest. “You got one more cuss word before I…,” he said lowering his eyes into slants.
I couldn't believe I was doing this. I was initiating “playtime”. The excitement of the unknown pulsed through my veins. I was about to allow Terry to fully indulge in his needs and wants. I calmed my breathing before looking up at Terry again. “Before you what? You ain't gonna do shit, and we both know it. There ain't shit you can give that I can’t take,” I said fully committing to brat mode.
“You sure you wanna take this route? Once we begin, there's no turning back. You know that, right?” Terry asked leaning over me. His posture had changed and so had his energy. His shoulders were stiff and squared. It was as if his body was blanketing my entire aura and being. I sat for a minute contemplating my next move. How could I outdo myself?
I smiled as a thought crept into my head. I pulled my hands away and placed them in my lap. With the confidence of a goddess, I said, “You created this monster. Deal with it.” Terry's breathing halted before a smirk spread across his face. His hands instantly grabbed a handful of hair at the back of my head. “You got a lotta mouth, lil mama. I don't like that. I don't like it all,” he said tightening his grip. I moaned loudly. I could feel a puddle growing in my panties.
I was fully committed to my role as a brat. I laughed at Terry in an attempt to piss him off. That was having little to no effect on him. I knew I had to make him execute his fantasy to the fullest. I took a deep breath before speaking. “Fuck all that! What you trying to do, huh?” I asked biting my lip and cocking my head to the side.
All sentiments of expression left Terry’s face, and his body grew in anger. His hand quickly left my hair and found my throat. He squeezed tight enough for my breathing to stop. Ironically, all I could think about was how good this felt. My pussy quivered and ached as I released what felt like a mini orgasm. It soaked through my panties as he loosened the grip he had on my throat. “Look at you. Daddy’s little slut. You just couldn't help yourself, huh? That’s fine, mama. Just know this— when we get in that room, I’m gone turn yo thick ass every which way but loose. Don't run. Don't speak. Don't touch shit. It's my turn. Got it?” he said, releasing me with a push.
I looked up at Terry with big doe eyes before speaking again. “Yes, Big Daddy. I understand,” I said while struggling to hide my excitement. “Oh, you think those pretty brown eyes gone help you, huh? Ha! Too late for that. I’m trying to see the monster I created. Bring her out. Fuck all that cute shit!” he said leaning back into the chair. “But…” I started. “Aye, I don't remember asking you to speak. The only thing I want you to do with that there pretty mouth of yours is to suck, lick, slob, swallow, and do it again. You nasty, bitch!” Terry demanded.
As if activated on cue, I could feel the heat between my legs. I wanted this man’s hands all over me. RIGHT THE FUCK NOW! It was Terry’s turn to indulge in his fantasy as a dom. I loved the idea since he would show hints of it sometimes. His only request was not to be easy. He didn't want me to fully submit without any pushback. He liked the idea of me talking shit and provoking him. Terry’s plan involved leaning into a darker side of himself that he had never completely let out, and I trusted him enough to agree to do it. I felt he deserved this moment especially since he didn't judge me about mine.
So, let’s see where tonight takes us.
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beybaldes · 1 year ago
Text
no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft
Roy Kent × Fem!Reader
word count: 9.8k
summary: jamie tartt once told you Roy needed someone to show him it was okay to be soft; Roy has found that person in you
content warning: spoilers for the plot of 'the couple next door' by Shari Lapena, tooth rotting fluff with the whole Kent bloodline and the Richmond boys, neither reader nor Roy has parents because I said so, allusions to smut but basically non written.
masterlist
a/n: this is technically a part 2 to my fic ‘it was simple, it was sweetness, it was good to know’ but can 100% be read as a standalone fic!! Thank you for all the love on the first part I acc can’t believe the amount of love and support it received 🥲🥲
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"Hey, hot stuff." Your hands came to rest against Roy's shoulders, squeezing, then moving slowly across his collar bones and down his chest, coming to rest connected just above his heart. A featherlight kiss was pressed to the shell of his ear, and then another behind his ear, followed by a trail of quick kisses down his neck until your face was buried in the crook of it. "How's your book?"
"Fucking great." Roy answered back, voice low and mellow, maintaining the peaceful atmosphere in your living room.
Ever since you'd moved in together a year and a half ago, your entire house had become a sanctuary for the two of you. Roy's new position as manager made it so that even though you worked together, you saw much less of each other during the workday - mainly because it wasn't at his leisure to go in and out of your office all day any more. Even if you did spend every minute of every day around each other, you knew you could never get sick of Roy; you'd become quite the experts at communicating how you were feeling and what you were thinking, especially since every time he tried to keep you out, you would figure it out anyway.
"I mean, I've had my theories throughout about who did it, but I'd never have guessed this." Roy missed your touch as soon as you let go of him, reaching out so that he could hold your hand in his tightly while you walked around the couch to take a seat by his side. "I thought surely, what, with the husband having the affair he did it - and I was half right, the husband staged the kidnapping."
"I knew something was up with him!" You gasped, wrapping your arms around Roy's waist as you curled into his side, the hand that had just been holding yours pulling his blanket to cover your lap then moving to rest across your shoulders. "How was the husband involved? He didn't hurt the baby did he?" He used the palm of his hand to press your head against his chest, tucking your hair back behind your ear and then moving his hand to rest against your bicep, scratching his fingers gently into the exposed flesh there. "Oh my god, he didn't, like, get rid of it so he could be with the neighbour did he?"
"Slow down, slow down," Roy shushed, folding the corner of the page he was on, something so close to the end of the book you could count the pages if you tried. He pressed a chaste, warm kiss to the crown of your head, placing the book down beside him on the couch. "Let me explain, Angel." Roy's other hand, now free from holding the book, cradled your chin gently, tilting your head up so he could press a tender kiss to your lips. "So Anne's dad-"
Another gasp slipped past your lips. More then anything, you wanted to let Roy explain the plot of what he'd been reading, but his nightly updates had kept you on the edge of your seat. Despite not having read a single page, apart from the 2 chapters you read aloud to Roy earlier in the week when he was feeling a little under the weather, you were completely and utterly enthralled; desperate to know how it ended. Besides, this daily discussion was the highlight of your days. No matter how good or bad your day had been, if you'd gone out of your way to ignore each other or talked nonstop: Roy still talked and you still listened. "What did Anne's dad have to do with it?"
"You'll see." He chastised, pressing a kiss to the tip-of your nose before continuing with his explanation. "Marco assists in kidnapping the baby, why? Because his business is going out of money and he plans on faking a ransom note for asking for the exact amount of money he needs to pay up to save his business." Roy slid his hand under the blanket, pulling your legs up and into his lap as you brought your head up from against his chest. Threading your fingers through his hair, you looked at him confused. "Anne's parents are rich, remember? But they won't give him the money so he stages this kidnapping to force them to pay the ransom."
"No." You gasped, you hand clapping against your mouth. "Why wouldn't they give their son in law the money? They do know it directly affects their daughter and grand-daughter, right?"
"They won't give him the money because they don't like him, so get this, the guy who convinced Marco to stage the kidnapping was hired by Anne's dad." Roy laughed at the gasp you let out, you completely enthralled with the story and him completely enthralled with you. He always was. "Anne's dad staged the whole thing because he wanted Anne and Marco to split up. And just when you think everything's okay because they got the baby back; Anne murders the neighbour because she had been having an affair - with Anne’s dad.”
You were practically jumping in your seat.
Sometimes you wish you had the same amount of patience as Roy so you could actually sit down and read with him. Most of the time, however, you were more then happy to listen to him passionately talk you through what he was reading, were happy to watch that wonderful smile you loved so much curl onto his lips.
"But!"
"But-" you repeated after Roy, pressing a kiss to his cheek, urging him to hurry up with his ending; you were waiting to hear it.
"But, Anne doesn't remember killing the neighbour, so there is this whole unreliable light cast on the whole story; it might not have even happened!" Roy expected to find you staring at him in shock, some commentary on what you think happened on the tip of your tongue, but it never came.
Instead, he found you staring at him with complete adoration, like you'd watched him mould the galaxies in his hands, hang the stars in the sky and spin the world on his fingernails. To you, he did, he really did. You leant forward a little, using the hand that you'd tangled in Roy's hair to pull him closer to you so that you could press your lips to his. The kiss was soft and tender, something that Roy, ever intense, had really come to enjoy through out your relationship; you brought out this entirely different side to him that he wasn't even sure existed until he met you.
"I love you." You murmured against his lips, going in for another quick peck before you pulled away, gracing him with the sight of a smile. "I love how passionate you get when talking about the stuff you love, and that smile - ugh that smile, Roy - you're killing me here."
Roy was certain he was doing the right thing. So certain, in fact, that he'd bought the ring the day you got together: Phoebe's accusation in your living room that you were getting married telling him everything he needed to know. The life Roy had dreamed of was right before him, all he had to do now was take it. "Marry me."
"What?" The hand that had began to caress his cheek as you kissed and the hand in his hair stilled; your entire body stilled in fact, and as quickly as he'd become confident enough to ask the question, he'd become nervous again.
"Fuck, what I meant was; will you marry me?" Roy shuffled underneath you, pulling out a ring box from somewhere behind him, though you weren't sure where considering you knew his pyjama bottoms didn't have pockets. "I'm not the kind of guy for a big speech thing, but I wish I was because you fucking deserve that kind of thing. You deserve a lot more then I can ever give you, actually, and yet you still love me day in and day fucking out. I'll admit, sometimes I don't get why you do."
"Roy..." You whimpered, tears brimming in your eyes as you moved both of your hands to cradle his face.
"But you do. And I'd truly, really, be the luckiest man in the world, if you would marry grumpy, old me." Tears had formed in Roy's own eyes, the pair of you totally overwhelmed by the intimate and tender moment. You'd never been more in love with Roy then right now. "Please fucking say yes, I'm an absolute mess without you"
"Yes, please." You whispered, hands still cradling Roy's face even though your eyes remained on the ring in front of you. It was as if he'd peeked inside your brain and made the perfect ring; it was simple yet elegant and entirely you, it was really perfect. This time, you answered louder. "Please, yes."
You pulled Roy's face to you, pressing a firm and hot kiss to his lips. You let your hands leave his face, sliding up and over his cheekbones until you reached his hair, twisting your fingers into it and pulling him even tighter against you, deepening the kiss as you did. "A million times yes, Roy, yes, yes, yes." Tears had begun to freely flow down your cheeks, though there was not an ounce of sadness to them. You were insurmountably happy - over the fucking moon. "I'd say yes in every fucking language in the world if I could. I love you Roy." You bit your lip back between your teeth, trying to contain your smile since your cheeks burned. "Mrs Kent." A giggle slipped past your lips. "That's me."
"Fuck yeah, that's you." Roy growled, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to your lips. His grip in your hair allowed him to tilt your head back slightly, giving him the perfect angle to push his tongue past your lips with a tug of his hand on your hair. If he had already put the ring on your finger, he'd have picked you up and taken you to bed then and there with the moan you let out. "Now, Mrs Kent, you going to let me put this ring on your fucking finger or what?"
~*~
You were thankful Roy had proposed on a Friday night; not only because that meant you didn't have to worry about how late he kept you up or how quickly you needed to regain the ability to walk straight, but because it gave you the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday to figure out how to tell your friends. Phoebe and Molly were coming over for dinner later that night, but you had a slight feeling you weren't actually going to have to say anything to them - you had no doubt Roy had consulted Molly over it, and Phoebe, well, you just knew she'd pick up on it the second she saw you.
"C'mere." Roy groaned beside you, not giving you the chance to move yourself before he was wrapping one arm around your waist and the other under your thigh. He slid you across the bed with ease, years of training still paying off despite the fact he hadn't played on a pitch in nearly 4 years now. Placing the leg he'd grabbed over his own leg, he pulled you flush against him, chest pressed to chest. "Good morning, Angel, sleep good?"
Roy's voice had a deeper edge then usual to it in the morning. "Always do when I'm with you, Handsome." You purred, gently scratching your fingers against his chest. "Although I've got this awful kink in my neck, must’ve slept funny."
"I can think of a few other kinks you've got." Roy murmured against your shoulder, pressing open mouthed kissed along it and up your neck. When he nipped at the sensitive skin just under your ear, you pushed yourself away from him, not out of want, but out of necessity.
"We've got guests in a few hours, remember?"
"I can do a lot in an hour alone." Given how late the two of you had been up doing things, you'd slept in till lunch, but that didn't make the sound of sleepy and slow morning sex with Roy any less appealing. God, the thought of it alone had you wanting to cancel everything ever and stay here forever.
"Hmm, that you can do." Pulling his head out of the crook of your neck, you pressed a kiss to his lips, tangling your hands into Roy's hair and trying impossibly hard to get even closer to him. "Show me what you got, coach."
A growl rolled out of Roy's throat and he was quick to get started on his own assault of your lips, fully using the position he'd pulled you into to his advantage.
~*~
After everything the two of you spent your early afternoon doing, you only had 2 hours to make sure everything was ready for when Molly and Phoebe showed up, and since your cooking skills ended at turkey dinosaurs and pizza, you left most of the work down to Roy. He let you help prepare ingredients, standing behind you with an arm wrapped around your waist and a hand guiding your hand to cut things a specific way. But when the time came to actually cook the meal, he guided you out of the kitchen, encouraging you to go and get ready with a soft kiss; one to your cheek and another to your temple.
When you'd showered and gotten ready, you made it your turn to kick Roy out of the kitchen, promising not to touch anything unless he asked you to. You made sure to set the table all nice and proper for Phoebe and Molly's arrival, still slightly starstruck by the actual use of the dining table and not just eating dinner on your couch like you'd become so accustomed to before you and Roy moved in together. Sometimes though, especially when Phoebe stayed over, you'd all eat dinner together on the sofa, spy kids playing in the background, for old times sake. And before you knew it, you'd heard the knock at the door.
Swinging the door open, you knelt down immediately, sweeping Phoebe into your arms and hugging her tightly. With her head tucked in between your shoulder and neck, you stuck out your left hand at Molly, wriggling your ring finger enthusiastically. Phoebe squealed your name, wrapping her little arms tightly around your neck; even though you'd seen her two days ago when you picked her up from school, she still missed you as much as if she hadn't seen you for a million years.
As you went to stand back up, phoebe kept her grip on your neck, a silent plea for you to pick her up. Even at 9 years old, she still loved being paraded around in your arms, taking full advantage of your love for her and her love of being close to you. You pulled Molly into the house by the hand, kicking the door shut with your foot and leading them to the kitchen, where Roy was finishing up dinner.
"Hi, Uncle Roy!" Phoebe opted to stay in your arms instead of wiggling out of them to give Roy a 'hello' hug, knowing he was busy cooking and shouldn't be interrupted.
"Hey Phoebe, dinner will be ready in 2 minutes, okay? Why don't you go and grab your phoebe mug from your room before we all sit down?" When you and Roy moved in together, it was a unanimous decision that Phoebe needed her own room in your house; and when you were moving her things from Roy and your separate houses into your new house you got her a 'phoebe mug' as a housewarming gift. It was a bright pink ceramic mug, her name written once by you on the front and once by Roy on the back - it was the only thing she would drink out of when she was at your house.
The second phoebe had slipped out of the room, you turned to Molly with a squeal, the two of you grabbing tightly onto each other and jumping around the kitchen. Roy watched fondly as the two of you gushed over the ring Molly had already seen a thousand times. She took your hand in hers, running her finger over the ring with a featherlight touch, tears filling her waterline. Molly grabbed your hand and pulled it over her shoulder, hugging you again, though this time more tenderly, more teary-eyed.
"I'd say welcome to the family, but I think you've been a part of it since the day you met Phoebe." Tears began to fill your own eyes at the words she whispered against the shell of your ear. "You make him so happy, so, so happy, and that's all I could ever want for Roy. It's all I ever way for you." Molly pulled away from the hug, wiping her thumb under your eye as your tears threatened to spill over. "He loves you. We all do. I love you."
"I love you too, Molly." Just as quickly as she'd pushed you away, you pulled her in for another hug, squeezing her tightly as though it would convey everything you were feeling. It did.
At the sound of feet running down your hallway, Molly jumped away from you, quickly wiping at her own eyes before turning to face her little girl. She gently took the mug from her hands and passed it to you, ushering her to the dining table while you and Roy plated up.
"What did she say to you?" Roy asked, knocking his hip against yours as he he started putting food into each plate.
You pulled Phoebe's favourite cordial off your shelf, pouring some in then moving past Roy to get to the sink to dilute it. "Nothing." He couldn't see the smile that formed on your face as you thought on what your future sister in law had said to you moments prior. "Just that she loves me, she loves you. That she's happy for us."
Roy wrapped an arm around you from behind as he came to join you at the sink, leaning past you to put his cooking tongs in. "I can't wait to see Phoebe's reaction." Roy murmured against the skin of your neck, pressing a kiss there then spinning you around to face him. "She absolutely adores you. She's gonna be over the fucking moon."
"Not more over the moon then me." You pressed another kiss to his lips, making sure to keep the cordial far away from you and Roy incase it spilled.
Roy turned his back on you, picking up two of the bigger plates. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."
"Oh really?" You asked, picking up the final big plate and Phoebe's smaller own. "I get to marry the love of my life and be officially related to some of the people I love the most. I think I win."
"We'll see." With one last kiss the two of you headed towards the dining table, all four of you tucking into dinner and telling each other about your weeks like clockwork; though you and Roy refrained from one pretty big event till after dinner.
When your food was all finished, you'd given Phoebe a bigger bowl of ice cream then usual, immediately prompting her to be suspicious. "Either I've been really good at school this week, or you guys have done something really bad."
"It's not like that Pheeb's, we're actually celebrating." Phoebe's head perked up at that as she mentally checked it wasn't anyone's birthday, or 'uncles day,' or Mother's Day, or 'future aunties day' (as she'd dubbed it) and she'd forgotten. When she ruled that she definitely hadn't forgotten anything, she turned to you in wait.
"What are we celebrating?"
"Me and your uncle Roy-"
"Holy shit." Smiles crept on all three of your faces as Phoebe pieced it together in her mind. "Are you getting married? Please tell me you're getting married?"
"Are getting married." As you brought your ring adorned hand up for her to see, Phoebe burst into tears, jumping off of her seat and running around to the other side of the table where you and Roy sat. She was quick to climb into Roy's lap, wrapping one arm around each of your knecks to pull you into a hug.
"This is the best day of my life." She whispered, her words coming out in a whine as she tried desperately hard to keep her tears in. "Do I get to be a flower girl?"
"Of course you get to be the flower girl, what kind of fucking question is that?" Roy scolded though a smile remained on his face, you wouldn't have anyone one else as your flower girl. Your niece was barely walking and besides, not that you'd ever admit it with them present, but you much preferred Phoebe to any blood relative you had.
Phoebe's face turned into a frown at Roy's words. "You owe me £1, uncle Roy."
"After the S-bomb you dropped before? I think we're even."
~*~
When Monday rolled around, you were extremely nervous. It wasn't that you thought any of the people at Nelson road would react badly to your engagement, you knew non of them would, you were nervous in the way you are at 8 years old on Christmas Eve - in a giddy way when you can't wait for what you feel to be shared.
You'd come up with a plan in bed the night before - announce it to Beard first, then to the boys, and then you'd make your way up to Rebecca's office to announce it to her, Higgins and Keeley (who'd you thankfully knew would be at the dog track this morning for a meeting).
To execute step 1 with no interruptions, you made sure to arrive an hour earlier to work then you usually would - knowing that Beard liked to show up early and the boys would show up as close to practice as they could get away with. Just as you expected, Beard was alone in the office, only a couple of other people in the building at all, making for an easy entrance.
"Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of you two showing up earlier then you ever have in the 5 years I've known you." Beard asked, his feet perched high up on his desk and an open book dropped against his chest.
"I needed to ask you something, actually." Roy wrapped an arm around your waist, rubbing soothing circles into your skin, silently encouraging you to ask what you wanted to ask.
"Fire away, Katniss."
"I actually wanted to ask, um, well, if you'd walk me down the aisle?"
Beard stilled, then took a shaky breath, then stilled again. He slowly picked up the book from his chest, dog-eared the page and swung his feet down from his desk, standing and crossing the room so that he could stand in front of you. "You, you-" Another shaky breath. "You want me? Me? To walk you down the aisle?"
"Yeah. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a father and-"
Beard pulled you into a hug, something he'd never done before, and tentatively wrapped his arms under yours, pinning you against him. He was warm and smelled like cinnamon, and though you'd never been a big fan of the scent, you found right now that you'd happily bask in it forever. "Yes, of course I will, it'd be an honour."
No further words were exchanged between the two of you until he pulled away, quickly wiping at his eyes before turning to Roy with a scowl. "I can fight, just so you know." He took a step closer to him, and you swore you'd never seen Roy so afraid as when Beard stuck a firm finger in his chest. "If you hurt her, I'll hurt you." Then he retreated to his chair, picking up his book and replacing it against his chest. "So when were you thinking? I always thing spring is the best time for a wedding."
The three of you discussed everything from what date you were thinking to ideal song choices while you waited for the changing room to fill up, wanting to make sure everyone had arrived before you shared the news. When Roy had done his 6th head count and found everyone had arrived, he nodded towards the door, asking if you were ready to go and tell everyone. You nodded, letting Roy lead the way and hanging in the doorway of the coaches office until Beard was at your side.
"You didn't have to threaten him, you know. He's never hurt me once, I don't think he's going to start now."
Beard folded his arms across his chest then nudged you gently in the side as the the two of you came to stand next to Roy, him shouting 'whistle,' silencing the changing room. "Hey, that's what dads are for."
"Before I start, someone grab Nate and Will from the boot room." Jamie, being closest to the boot room, dashed in and right back out, Will and Nate right behind him. "Right. Angel, the floor is yours."
You thanked Roy before turning back to the boys, all of them waiting anxiously as they waited to see what you had to say that was so important Roy had even called Will and Nate out. "I need to know if you're all available next June - we're talking the end of June, early July." Thankfully, your job at Richmond often required planning things far in advance, even if far in advance was a year away, so no one expected anything as you started to speak. "I know it's the off season but I need you all here, in Richmond. Especially Colin."
"Why especially me?" Colin asked, one hand nervously wringing the other.
"Because I absolutely refuse to get married if my man of honour won't be able to make it."
The whole changing room erupted into a chorus of gasps, quickly followed by cheers and players and kitmen alike swarming you and Roy with hugs and cries of congratulations - which, for once, he actually entertained.
Colin was the first to reach for you to pull you into a hug, his hands shaking as he did. "You really want me to be your man of honour? At your wedding?"
"Of course I do, Col." It didn't get any less tearful asking people to be apart of your wedding. "Your my best friend. I love you." No sooner then Colin had pulled you into another hug had you been torn out of it, by a very excited Jamie.
"I can't fucking believe it me. Well, I can actually, but I also can't." He pulled you in for an even tighter hug then Colin had, probably down to the fact he had more excitement then nerves coursing through his system. "Feels like yesterday me and Phoebe were sat on your couch convincing you Roy did love you, and now look at yous."
"Will Phoebe be at the wedding?" Isaac had spun you out of Jamie's hold and into his, keeping one arm around your shoulder as he spoke to you. "Cause I don't want to be the only person eating the turkey dinosaurs; there will be turkey dinosaurs right?"
"Of course there will be, Isaac." Will pulled you out from under Isaac's arm and into a sweet, although brief, hug. "Right? Otherwise I might have to RSVP no."
"Im sure it can be arranged, what, with all of Roy's footballer money." The two laughed at your words, though a certain footballer turned coach found them more amusing.
"All my footballer money, huh?"
"I hope the fact I'm only marrying you for your money doesn't make you want to call off the wedding." You teased, spinning around and wrapping your arms around Roy's neck.
He pressed a slow and sensual kiss to your lips, ignoring the teasing shouts and cheers from his team. "Hmm, you're lucky you're cute." Roy pressed another kiss to your lips, paying no mind to the curious stares of the team around him. Though when they began to linger for a minute too long, he pulled away from you with a sigh. "Right, 50 laps, all of you." When no one moved, he raised his voice. "Now!"
Roy intertwined his fingers with yours, waving a goodbye to Beard but promising to be back before the boys had finished their 50 laps.
Keeley had reacted just how you expected her to - with many screams and squeals and a tight hug that nearly knocked you off the ground. Rebecca and Higgins were much more reserved in their responses but each offered a hug and a congratulation's to the happy couple. Roy kept your fingers intertwined the whole time, squeezing your hand tight each time someone reached out for a hug but putting up with their love otherwise.
You couldn't wait to marry him.
~*~
Knowing that the off season would start around  the beginning of June, you'd decided early on the last week of June was the perfect time for the two of you to get married. And while the end of June was still a month and a half away, you were seriously considering calling the wedding off.
When you'd found out you were pregnant in February, you knew you had to keep it a close secret until you'd finished the first trimester, just incase anything happened to you or the baby, and each week since you'd found out you kept swearing to yourself you were going to tell Roy. You still hadn't. Which brought you to right now, where you were crying on the floor of your ensuite bathroom at the dead of night, at just over 12 weeks pregnant and a baby bump beginning to show.
Given the cold weather of early spring you'd kept it hidden pretty well so far, but with the progressively warmer weather, it was getting harder and harder to hide. Above that, you were now very much aware that since the baby bump had appeared, it was only going to get bigger - and you were in absolute tears over wether or not you were still going to fit into the outfit you'd picked. While your choice of outfit for your wedding wasn't anything extravagant, it made you feel extremely pretty, and hugged you in just the right way - it wouldn't if you were four months pregnant and with a baby bump that you felt was the size of Saturn.
One particularly loud sob had you clamping a hand over your mouth, hoping and praying to anything out there that Roy hadn't heard you. You didn't want him stressing, especially when you were crying over trivial things considering the life you'd always dreamed was within your grasp.
Roy's eyes blinked open though he wasn't entirely sure why, however, when he rolled over and attempted to wrap his arms around you, he was met with cold and empty sheets. The cool feel of the sheets beneath his fingers had him shooting awake; clearly you'd been out of bed a while, and considering it was pushing 2am, his first thought was that you were sick. Which wasn't too far from the truth.
Slowly, he made his way towards your en-suite bathroom, rubbing at his eyes to get him to wake up quicker. Pushing the door open, his entire being froze at the sight of you crying on the bathroom floor, him immediately falling to the ground next to you and pulling you into his lap. One hand brushed your hair out of your face while the other cupped the back of your head, pressing it into the crook of his neck. "It's okay Angel, I'm here, I'm here."
It took Roy roughly 15 minutes of rocking you gently in his arms and whispering soothing words into your hair before your sobs calmed down enough that you could talk without your words turning into a whimper. "C'mon Angel, talk to me." The way Roy oh so gently cradled your face had tears springing to your eyes again. "Or is it about me? Do you want me to call Molly? I'm sure she wouldn't mind-"
"No, it's about me." A fresh set of tears were rolling down your cheeks, but the heaving sobs that had been coming from your chest before ceased. "It's me, I've ruined everything."
"Angel..."
"I just wanted to wear a nice fucking outfit on my wedding day, and I can't, and its making me so sad it's stupid." Roy's thumb continuously wiped at the tears that were furiously running down your cheeks. "And it makes me even more sad because, because, I'm getting everything I've ever dreamed of and I'm sad over something stupid like what I can wear."
"It's not stupid, Angel face." Roy murmured against your temple, the scratch of his beard against your skin familiar and comforting. "Nothings stupid if it makes you so upset. Just talk me through it, yeah? Why can't you wear what you picked? Did it get damaged or something?"
"No, no, it's fine, it's just- it won't fit me anymore." Roy pressed a kiss to your temple, immediately spouting words of reassurance that it would still fit you and if it didn't he'd hire the best tailor in the world to make it fit and that regardless, you'd look incredibly beautiful no matter what you wore. You shook your head gently. "It's not that Roy, it's, I'm-"
You readjusted yourself in Roy's lap, turning so that your legs were either side of his, caging him in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking down at the bump you could just see through one of Roy's old jerseys you'd fallen asleep in, while you avoided his concerned gaze. "It's not going to fit me anymore, because I'm pregnant, Roy."
Silence filled the bathroom.
When you finally gained the courage to look up at Roy, tears were pooled in his eyes, that wonderful smile of his making the most tender appearance you'd ever seen. "You're pregnant?" He whispered, mumbling the two words over, and over, and over again. "You're pregnant."
Before you could ask Roy if he was okay, he was pressing his lips to yours, allowing the tears to fall from his eyes though without the noise of a sob. He simply kissed you over, and over, and over again, only pulling away when he could no longer contain the smile that what pulling at his lips. Your hands cradled his cheeks, wiping away each tear gently with the pad of your thumb. "I can't believe I'm crying." He scoffed, though didn't move away from to ur touch as you continued to wipe away his tears.
"If it makes you feel any better, I find the vulnerability of it incredibly hot."
One of Roy's hands moved from the side of your thighs to cup your cheek, pushing hair back behind your ear as a watery smile took over his face.
"You know," Roy paused, tenderly running his fingers up and down the side of your neck as his hand slipped down from your cheek to hold you there. "If you'd come to me 5 years ago, back when Ted and Beard first started, and told me in 5 years time I'd have everything I'd ever dreamed of? And, with the gorgeous woman from the office outside the changing rooms? I would've laughed in your face and told you to fuck off." After a moments thought, he added. "I probably wouldn't have let anyone get close enough to me to tell me that in the first place, to be honest."
"Look how far you've come." You mused, one hand slipping into the hair at the base of Roy's neck as his tears slowly stopped. "Some might say that I've made you go soft.”
Roy laughed, head tilted back against the bathroom wall as he was prevented from throwing it back further. The tilt of his head upwards granted you the perfect position to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He smiled at you softly, bringing his hand forward from the side of your neck so that he could cup your jaw. "To be loved, is to be changed." He hummed, his chest tightening as tears filled your eyes once more.
"I love you, Roy." You whispered, as though even saying it would break the sincerity of the words slipping from your lips. Although you'd said them a thousand times, it was like Roy was hearing it for the first time all over again. "Like I really, really love you Roy." Leaning forward, you rested your forehead against his. "So much... so much so that I feel like I'm never going to be able to express it enough, like if I don't get it out of me, I might die."
Roy pressed a searing kiss to your lips, sliding his hand back up your jaw and under your ear, tangling his fingers in the hair there. "I love you too, more then i ever thought I was capable of loving anyone.” Roy leaned in for another kiss then pulled away with a smirk as you ground yourself into him. "Want me to show you how much I love you, yeah?"
"Definitely."
Roy put his hands back to their original place under your thighs, slowly moving the two of you from your position on the bathroom floor to standing once more. When he was standing, you held in his arms with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, you continued the clash of tongue and teeth you'd started moments again. However, before he could get started on showing you just how much he loved you, you leaned away from him, eyes running over his whole face. "You might have to hold off on doing that thing with your hips, y'know, because of the baby."
"I'll stop doing that when the doctor tells me to stop."
~*~
Fortunately for you, at your next check up the following Thursday, the doctor gave you the all clear - on the health of the baby and the fact Roy could continue working magic with his hips. Considering you were nearly 14 weeks along, the ultrasound technician had offered to let you know the gender of the baby, but both you and Roy had agreed that you didn't want to know. You so seriously didn't want anyone to know, in fact, that Roy made a show of ripping up the envelope that contained the baby's gender right in front of the ultrasound technician after she offered it out to you; her suggestion of a gender reveal dying on her tongue.
Roy had been nothing but attentive since he'd found out; moving at your beck and call even more then normal, so much so that people around Nelson road were beginning to notice.
"Alright, what's going on?" The second Roy left your office, Isaac, Colin and Will crowed into the room, locking the door behind them. If you weren’t such a veteran of their shenanigans, you'd be getting concerned. "Are you dying?"
"Why would I be dying?" You asked, clicking the email you'd been writing closed, giving the three lads your undivided attention.
"Roy's been following you, like, more then usual though." Isaac stated, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "Weird, innit."
Before you could question what they found weird about you talking to and hanging around your fiancé, Will stepped forward, his hands tucked sheepishly in his pockets. "You're pregnant, right? I'm like 80% sure you're pregnant."
Your hand came to rest against the small bump you'd concealed under your Richmond sweater.
"Holy fuck boyo." Colin gasped, smacking his hand into Will's chest. "She is. How did you know?"
"She's glowing." Isaac and Colin tilted their heads in sync while their gaze remained directly on you, as though they were trying to see what Will saw. When it appeared they couldn't, Will let out a sigh, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. "I don't know; maybe it's the lighting."
Silence took over your small office space, the four of you alternating between staring at each other and the hand that rested against your stomach.
"Angel, you got-" Roy paused at the sight before him, scanning the room with a pointed glare. While Isaac had had the sense to lock the main door to your office when he started his interrogation, it had seemed he had forgotten to lock the connecting door from your office into the changing rooms. You'd never been more thankful to be in an office with two doors.  After a few more seconds of assessment, he seethed out a "Fuck! Not a word of this to anyone, yeah?"
All three lads nodded in silence, scurrying from the room after a particularly harsh glare from Roy had told them they had overstayed their welcome in your office. As your head fell into your hands due to the stress of it all, Roy crossed the room, slipping his fingers into your hair and scratching gently at your scalp. "They're not going to tell anyone, Angel, don't stress."
"But, what-"
"No buts, or what if's, or anything." Roy chastised, pulling your head out of your hands and crouching down to meet you at eye level. He took your hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. "We tell everyone when you're ready. And if that's after the wedding, then that's after the wedding." Roy pressed a kiss to your knuckles. "And that's that."
You let out a long sigh, weight lifted from your shoulders at Roy's gentle touch and soothing words. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"
"You've mentioned it once or twice."
~*~
You were too scared to put your outfit on. After almost 10 months of planning every detail and waking up to see your engagement ring on your finger, you were finally getting to be Mrs Kent. And you were too scared to go out there and get dressed.
When Will, Colin and Isaac found out you were pregnant, it was on accident, but going out there, before your man of honour, bridesmaids, Phoebe and Beard to put on your outfit would be intentionally revealing your baby bump. It was so stupid, you thought, to be this worried about something that would make people happy - that would make you and Roy happy. But a small part of you just wanted things to work out how you'd planned then in your head; like being able to wear what you'd picked to marry the love of your life.
However, you wanted to get married to Roy more then you cared about keeping the baby a secret.
Everyone gasped as you walked into the main part of the hotel room. You'd forgone a dressing gown in favour of getting ready in the comfort of pyjama shorts and one of Roy's old jerseys, wanting to have a part of him with you even though you wouldn't see him the night before the wedding.
Roy had actually wanted to forgo the traditional 'no seeing the bride bullshit,' him in favour of spending every second he could get with you, but Keeley and Jamie had convinced him it would make that moment of you walking down the aisle all the more special. Though as you walked into the room, you'd wished more then anything you'd convinced Keeley to let him stay with you. All you wanted was his hand in yours as you did this.
All eyes fell to the shadow of a baby bump that could be seen through the loose material of Roy's jersey; it was the one he wore at his very first Richmond match, Kent printed and worn proudly on the back. No one moved or even dared to breath.
"Surprise?" You didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but the tense silence and feel of everyone's eyes on you had you shying away from your friends and family in a way you'd never done before. "I'm pregnant!"
Molly was the first to move, crossing the length of the room and pulling you into an embrace. "I love you." She whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'm going to be an auntie." Within seconds the remaining people in the room swarmed you into one big group hug. Each of Colin, Keeley, Rebecca and Beard whispered congratulations to you, telling you just how beautiful you looked and how excited they were to see you walk down the aisle. Phoebe, however, pulled the funniest face at you, her brow tense in the spitting image of Roy.
"You're not wearing that, are you?"
Phoebe had magically broke the tension of the room, smiles all around as Molly and Keeley ushered you back to the other side of the door, helping you into your outfit and making sure your hair stayed in the way you'd styled it when you got changed. Fully dressed and feeling yourself, you stepped back into the main room with newfound confidence.
You were going to marry Roy - Roy who updated you on his book every night and valued your opinion on it, who still brought you lunch everyday at work, who was willing to hold you on the bathroom floor at 3am when he should've been sleeping, who made you feel like you were the only person in a room that mattered - and you couldn't be more excited.
Colin held your hand the entire drive from the hotel and the whole way from the car to the church doors. Only two pieces of wood separated you from everything you'd ever wanted. He pressed a featherlight kiss to your cheek and wished you luck before heading inside, leaving just you and Beard outside the building.
"You nervous?" He asked, moving his hand so that it rested lovingly on the small of your back.
"It's Roy." Roy always made you nervous. From the smile that had you weak in the knees when he actually decided to show it, to the butterflies the simple movement of his fingers against your skin caused; Roy had you swooning every time he looked at you. "I can't wait to get in there."
"Can you wait a second?" Ted Lasso was stood behind you, hands bashfully tucked into suit pants pockets.
"Ted." You gasped, opening your arms but not leaving Beard's side. The American rushed towards you, scooping you into a tender hug. "What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't make it..."
"Well, you know how Roy is, stubborn, hard-headed," Ted had aged a little since you last saw him on English soil, but he still held that quintessential ted spirit to him; even though he looked a lot more tired then you ever remembered him being. "Will do anything for the people he loves. Even if that's calling someone everyday for 8 months straight and convincing them to clear their calendar."
Roy who called one of your favourite people daily until he convinced them to make time to come to your wedding despite the fact they'd have to fly halfway across the world to attend.
"Well, I'm glad you're here Ted." He pressed a kiss to your temple, unwrapping himself from you and flattening out the front of his suit.
"I'll see you in there." Ted walked to the doors Colin had entered through moments ago, stopping and turning back to you at the last second. "You look beautiful by the way, you're practically glowing." With a knowing wink, Ted slipped through the doors, finding the way to his seat to wait for the ceremony to begin.
"Well, I think we're really ready now." You mused, linking your arm though Beard's. When you turned to flash a smile at him, you saw eyes filled with fondness, tears threatening to cloud his vision if he thought about the scene before him for too long. "Aren't we Willis?"
"Lets go, sweetheart." The pet name struck you to your core, your hand squeezing his bicep in reassurance. There was no one else you'd want to walk you down the aisle. "You're getting married!"
The ceremony ran perfectly. Willis walked you down the aisle and handed you off to Roy after whispering what you were certain was a threat in his ear. Tears brimmed Roy's waterline the whole ceremony, but they didn't spill over under you were pronounced husband and wife. No one commented on the tears that ran down Roy's cheeks, and you didn't think anyone was ever going to bring it up; a mutual understanding settling over the room that the Roy Kent that stood at the alter wasn't Roy Kent football sensation, but that he was Roy Kent, loving husband.
All those years ago Jamie had been completely and utterly right, all Roy needed was someone to show him it was okay to be soft. Thankfully, he had found that in you.
~*~
"Nell, go back to sleep baby, daddy's here."
Roy had his back turned to you as he rocked Penelope in his arms, murmuring some song that you couldn't quite make out under his breath to help her get back to sleep. In the 4 weeks since Penelope - or 'Nell' as Roy had lovingly started calling her - had been born, Roy had more then proved himself to be the amazing dad you knew he would be. Though he'd voiced his worries about not being a good dad several times throughout your pregnancy, each time you'd soothed away the worry; scratching your fingers against his scalp and reminding him of everything he'd ever done for Phoebe.
Phoebe had been the most excited to meet the baby, begging her mum to let her come over every single day after school so that she could spend time with her newborn cousin (even though that time was mostly spent with Phoebe in your lap with Nell in hers).
The Boys at Nelson Road came in for a close second when it came to being excited to meet the baby. Will, Colin and Isaac had made it their duty to show up to you and Roy's house every day after training when you were 7 months along in order to paint the babies nursery and build all the furniture that you'd bought.
They were even worse when you went into labour.
Roy had called Beard to let him know the two of you wouldn't be able to make it to work that Tuesday, and Beard loaded up the coach for a group trip to Richmond's hospital. You had the whole of AFC Richmond crowded in the waiting room, arms filled with stuffed animals, balloons and flowers. Jamie had charmed up the nurse who you were charged to, convincing him to let all of the players into your room at once. While most of the team fawned over the baby, gave you their best wishes then made their way back to the coach, Colin, Isaac, and Will asked to hold her, tears filling their eyes as they took in the sight of the tiny baby.
"She's beautiful." Colin whispered, lightly running the tip of his finger up and down her button nose. "With your parents, you're going to be the coolest kid ever. And Uncle Colin is going to make sure of it."
"You know," Will whispered, stiff as a board as he held Penelope on his arms, scared to even breath less it hurt the baby. "I remember that day I saw you with Phoebe in Tesco, and I told you I didn't realise you were a mum." Roy shot you a confused glance, reminding you you'd never actually filled him in on your trip to the supermarket that day with Phoebe. "And now you are one. It almost doesn't feel real."
"I've never held a baby before." Isaac admitted, the most relaxed holding her despite his inexperience. "It's weird, innit. Like, this baby I'm holding right now started out nothing and now she's real and alive and in my arms…Spooky."
Jamie, however, you practically had to force to hold Nell; and even then he was scared shitless. When you managed to convince him to take a seat on your hospital bed, he seemed less tense about holding her, but the ever present crease in his brow told you otherwise. "She looks just like you."
"She's got Roy's nose, and I bet she'll have his eyebrows too."
Jamie's eyes never left the baby, even as the other boys slipped out of the room with one last goodbye and a promise to come and visit Nell again when you got sent home.
"Ask us what her full name is." Roy kicked Jamie's foot, finally snapping his attention away from the newborn.
"You what?”
Apparently, he hadn't been listening, the tender tone to Roy's voice leaving as soon as it had arrived. "I said ask us what her full name is, fuckhead."
Jamie didn't ask you, he wasn't sure he could get the words out without choking up, the suggestion of the question springing tears to his eyes.
"Her full name is Penelope Jamie Kent." You hadn't seen Jamie so upset since Roy dragged him into your office, sobs wracking his body, two years ago before the journey up north to play against Manchester City at the Etihad.
He pulled Nell closer to his chest, hugging her as best as you could hold a baby, then passed her to Beard, pulling Roy in for the tightest hug you'd ever seen the two share. When Jamie came to hug you, he pressed a kiss to your cheek, whispering in your ear; "You've made Grandad go all soft." And after a brief pause. "The rest of us too."
Beard didn't stay long after Jamie left, knowing the coach was only waiting on him to return to training. He muttered something under his breath, pressed a kiss to Nell's head and then handed her back to you, pressing a kiss to yours. "Jamie’s right. Spitting image of you. Though I do agree she has Roy's nose."
"I hope she gets his smile." You quietly confessed, not missing the way Roy's lips curled up into the wonderful  smile you loved so much. "We got something for you." Roy pulled out a gift bag from next to your 'we need to go to the hospital the baby is coming' bag and handed it to his fellow coach. Beard waisted no time opening the gift, a soft smile curling on his lips as he pulled out the mug, 'worlds best grandad' printed on the front and a Richmond crest printed on the back. "I love you...dad."
A tear silently ran down Beard' cheek but he didn't wipe it away, pulling you and the baby in for a group hug. After a tight squeeze, he opened up his arms, a silent invite for Roy to join. He did so without question, thanking Willis for everything.
Beard had used the mug at Nelson Road everyday since.
Nell had made a total of 3 visits so far to Nelson Road; every Thursday afternoon being the day you'd come to the dog track with her and disrupt afternoon training so that the boys could fawn over her as an end of the week treat. Tomorrow would be her 4th visit, and yet, Roy had been the one to wake up and tend to her when he'd have to be up in a few hours to coach Jamie and you could essentially sleep in until 12 and still be on time.
As he put Nell back inside her cot, you wrapped your arms around his waist and slid them up and under the front of his t-shirt. "You're such a good dad, Roy."
"Only cause you make me a good dad." He turned around in your hold, your hands now up the back of his shirt, his arms now over your shoulders/
"That doesn't even make sense." You countered, resting your chin against his chest so that you could look at him. Roy took the opportunity to press a slow and tender kiss to your lips.
"Fuck off, it totally does."
"Doesn't."
"Does."
"Doesn't."
"Does."
At a whine from Nell, the two of you fell silent, not wanting to wake her after Roy had just put her back to sleep.
"She know it makes sense." The two of your were looking down at Nell's tony from where she slept soundly in the crib.
"She's only agreeing cause it's you." You lowered your chin so that the side of your head rested against Roy's chest, giving you a better look at your beautiful baby girl. "She's a total daddy's girl already, you know."
"Gets that from her mother." Roy paused after he spoke, realising quickly that his words hadn't made much sense or come out in the way he intended. "I meant, she's a total me, girl. Like she loves me a lot because you love me a lot. Fuck."
"I knew what you meant, handsome."
Roy quirked his eyebrow at your response. "You did huh?" He swept you off your feet, literally, carrying you back to your bedroom with a slip in his step.
You hand slapped against his bicep, a gasp slipping from your lips as your pieced together Roy's words paired with his suggestive tone and that glint in his eye. "The doctor said no sex for 6 weeks, Roy."
"No penetrative sex for six weeks." Roy clarified, laying you down on the mused bedsheets and kissing his way down your form; starting with scrapes of teeth against the sensitive skin of your neck, all the way down to the thick skin of your thighs. "The guy said nothing about oral."
an : thanks for reading this far *mwah* I love you <33 I hope you enjoyed this!!! Please feel free to send in a request for Roy or Jamie I'd love to write it!!!
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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago
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how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3
I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂
I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!
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smile at me
It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?
Or something. 
Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam. 
“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”
“It’s literally my job,” you told him. 
Apparently, that didn’t matter. 
But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once. 
It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look. 
Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge. 
“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”
Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around. 
The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle. 
“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”
Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”
You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?” 
You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”
He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”
“He broke up with me.”
Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”
You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all. 
“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues. 
You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”
Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included. 
“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”
A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani. 
As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.
“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.
You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”
The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”
Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening. 
“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump. 
“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain. 
Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown. 
“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say. 
Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”
You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head. 
“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”
“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.
“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”
“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”
Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”
You laugh and follow him to the elevator.
It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively. 
Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.
“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”
“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”
It’s not a problem. 
Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain. 
But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.
He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman. 
Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back. 
“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”
You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver. 
“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce. 
You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring. 
“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm. 
“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.
You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown. 
“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair. 
“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”
You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.
“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”
You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.
The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.
Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.) 
So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life. 
And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him. 
So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel. 
You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.
Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired. 
You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking. 
“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”
You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 
You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments. 
You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you. 
“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep. 
You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night. 
Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved. 
Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.
“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”
You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”
Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”
You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”
“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”
“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”
Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green. 
Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips. 
“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.
It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter. 
It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.
The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”
“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”
Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.
“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”
Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”
“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”
“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning. 
“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”
“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”
“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”
You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”
Jamie shoots up. “What?!”
“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”
Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”
You grin as you climb onto his lap. 
501 notes · View notes
yelena-bellova · 1 year ago
Text
Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen
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Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart
Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.
Word Count: 8k
Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents
A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!
—————
Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?
Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?
Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!
Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.
Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.
There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.
She’d ignored every single one.
She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.
True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.
In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…
“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.
Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.
Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.
They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.
Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.
Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.
Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”
“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”
If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.
“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.
Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”
“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.
“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.
“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”
Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”
“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”
“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”
Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.
She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.
Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.
—————————
Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.
She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.
Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”
“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”
“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”
Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.
But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.
He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.
“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”
Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.
“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.
“Help with what?” Y/n asked.
Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”
Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”
“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”
“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”
Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.
Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“
“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”
Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.
“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”
Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.
“He’s quite handsome.”
Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.
Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”
“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.
Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”
Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“
Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”
“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“
“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”
Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.
“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”
Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.
She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.
Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.
—————————
Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.
Man City versus Richmond.
Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.
She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.
Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.
She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”
“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”
Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”
“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”
“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”
“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”
“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.
Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.
The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.
A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.
Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.
“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”
“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”
“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”
The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”
Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.
“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”
“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”
Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?
Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.
“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”
The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“
“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”
Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.
Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.
“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.
Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”
She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-
“Hey, Y/n!”
She stopped in her tracks, so close…
Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.
“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”
In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.
“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.
Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.
She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.
—————————
Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.
Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.
The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”
“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”
“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”
“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”
Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”
“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“
“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”
While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.
“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”
“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“
Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.
“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”
After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.
“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”
Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.
—————————
At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.
From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.
After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.
“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.
“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”
Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”
Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.
“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.
Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”
Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?
Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.
You’ve Got Mail.
She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.
For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.
After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.
“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“
A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.
“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.
She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.
“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.
“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“
Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.
“Keeley, what-“
“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.
Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.
“No.”
“Y/n-“ Keeley began.
“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”
“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”
Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”
Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.
The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.
Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.
They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.
“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.
“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”
Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”
“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”
“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”
“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.
“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”
“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.
“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.
“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.
“OI!”
Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.
“Fucking hell!”
“What the fuck?!”
Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”
“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.
“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”
Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.
Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.
They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.
Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”
Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.
Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.
They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.
“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”
Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”
“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.
“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”
“Yeah, who are you?”
“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”
Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.
Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.
Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”
While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.
They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.
“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”
“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”
“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.
Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”
“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.
Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.
“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”
A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”
Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.
“Hello, Mommy.”
Y/n’s eyes widened.
Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”
“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”
“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.
“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.
“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.
“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”
Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.
“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”
Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.
“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”
Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.
Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.
“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.
Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.
She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.
Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.
“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”
Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.
“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”
Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”
Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”
“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.
Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.
“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.
Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.
“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”
“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”
Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.
“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.
“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.
Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.
Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”
“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.
The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-
“Fucking hell.”
Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.
“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”
Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.
An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”
As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.
“Fucking hell,” she grunted.
“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”
Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”
“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.
“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.
“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”
Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”
Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.
“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”
“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”
Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”
“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”
Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.
Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.
“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”
“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”
“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”
Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”
“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”
If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.
“They’re okay with it,” she answered.
“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”
“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”
“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”
Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”
“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”
Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.
The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.
She was speechless.
“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”
“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”
The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.
“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”
“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”
“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”
Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”
Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.
Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.
Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.
“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.
“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.
Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.
“Hey.”
Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.
“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.
“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.
For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.
“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”
Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.
In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.
But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.
This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.
“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”
Y/n cries began to shake her chest.
“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”
A single cry escaped Y/n.
“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”
Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.
“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”
Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.
Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.
For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.
Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.
“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”
Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”
“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”
“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”
Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”
“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”
“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”
Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.
“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“
She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.
In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.
Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”
Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.
“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.
Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.
He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.
“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.
Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.
Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.
With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.
Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.
Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.
Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.
Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.
“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.
Jamie nodded.
“Does she feel the same?”
There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.
“No.”
——————
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buckychristwrites · 1 year ago
Text
Could This Be | Chap. Eleven | j.t.
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Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader
Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating
A/N: And that's a wrap! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all enjoy!!! Also YES i changed Beard's wedding to fit my needs SUE ME
Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog
The only thing you could hear was Keeley’s sobs as she leaned on your shoulder. 
“Keeley, please!” You whispered, trying hard not to laugh through your own tears. “You’re being so loud!”
“I just love weddin’s so much,” She choked out as she tried to wipe her face without smearing her makeup. 
The backdrop of the wedding was stunning, in the beautiful garden of a Scottish castle with the sunset painting the world from behind. Standing between Jamie and Keeley, you found yourself choking up during their hand written vows. Although, the sentimentality of it wore off after the eighth page of Beard’s. And that was only the halfway mark.
With the ceremony over, and the bride and groom off to take a quick set of pictures, everyone was filing inside to get to the reception. 
Hand in hand, you walked through the grass with Jamie, as Keeley was linked to Roy on the other side.
“Can we have a wedding here?” Keeley asked Roy, looking at him with a pout in her lip. His expression didn’t falter. 
“No.”
Her lip poked out further.
“Why not?”
“Fuckin’ stupid to have a weddin’ outside in England. The risk of rain is too high,” He explained, in a logical way that made a lot of sense. Keeley considered this, although she still had the pout on her face. 
“Where would you get married?” She asked, turning to you. You were taken aback by the question, the heat filling your cheeks and burning them from the inside out. Although you refused to look at him, you felt Jamie give your hand a squeeze. 
“I don’t think I’d want a big wedding,” You admitted. “I’d be fine with the courthouse.” 
“Really?” The shock in her voice was evident, her staring at you like you had said you’d like to get married in the mouth of a shark. She looked to Jamie. “What about you?”
His gaze fell to the grass, shaking his head before pointing at you with his free hand. “Whatever the lady says.”
It had been an awkward morning.
The hotel room that had been booked for you was the same hotel room that was booked for Jamie, as it was assumed that you two would’ve done that anyway. And, obviously, that meant that the room only had one bed. It was a regal room, decorated as if it were plucked out of Buckingham Palace and placed inside this castle for you to stay in. After a hearty debate on what to do. as there was no couch in the room that could properly accommodate a person, the two of you decided to just share the bed. Jamie on the left side, you on the right side. The two of you mumbled good night to each other before switching off the lights and turning to face the opposite walls. Which was fine and dandy.
Until you woke up pressed into Jamie’s bare chest, his arms wrapped around you. You had no recollection of moving, having definitely been on your own side when you went to bed the night prior. Was he shirtless when he went to bed? He must’ve been. It was like waking up from a dream to another one, your face against his skin and his chest rising and falling against yours. And for a long time, you allowed yourself to stay like that. It wasn’t scary. It wasn’t weird. It felt normal. Like you had been waking up this way for years and years. 
It made you think of when you and him slept together. When he spent the night and left the following morning. He had woken up before you, and was out of bed by the time you awoke. Had this happened then, too?
Your eyes had snapped shut when he shifted, and for a brief moment, he seemed just as content as you. Then, suddenly, he was out of the bed so fast that you almost rolled off the mattress in stunned confusion. The exchange was brilliantly painful, as he apologised and rushed to the bathroom while you got yourself together and dressed before fleeing the room entirely.
The incident had completely shattered the groove the two of you had. Ever since, you had no idea how to act, and neither did he. All morning, you two stumbled around each other, as if you hadn’t been kissing and holding each other in public for about a month at this point. Maybe it was the fact that it was a moment in private, a thoughtless act in a place where there was no fear or rationale to fight through. Just two fake yet somehow real lovers, entwined.
“I can’t see you settlin’ for a courthouse,” Roy said, eyes narrowed at Jamie. “Jamie Tartt’s weddin’? In a fuckin’ courthouse?”
Jamie shrugged before saying, “I don’t think anything I do with her is settling.” 
The butterflies in your stomach made you nauseous.
The interior of the castle was decorated so beautifully for the wedding. Fresh flowers were everywhere, filling the room with a lovely scent. Candles were everywhere, a stunning flicker against the setting sun that was shining through the windows. Against the wall were rows and rows of tables, filled to the brim with food. Your mouth began to water. The morning had been so hectic that you had forgotten to eat. 
“I will die if I don’t get food soon,” You mumbled to Jamie as the two of you followed Keely and Roy to the assigned table. 
“I think we have to wait,” Jamie responded, looking around. No one else even approached the buffet tables. It made your heart want to cry. 
Jamie pulled out the chair for you at the table, allowing you to sit before taking the seat to your right. In the middle of the table were appetisers, a feature you weren’t expecting. Both Jamie and yourself immediately reached forward to grab a random assortment.
“Do you think we’re supposed to eat yet?” Keeley asked, looking around nervously to see if others were eating off the plates on their tables.
“I don’t fucking care,” You said before shoving a mini sandwich into your mouth. 
“Oh fine,” She said, reaching for the plate of what looked like stuffed mushrooms. Jamie, at the same time, also reached for one.
“It’s got a weird smell to it,” Keeley remarked as she examined it.
“You could still like it,” You pointed out to her. “Maybe plug your nose before you eat it.” She stared at the stuffed mushroom sceptically before popping the whole thing in her mouth. Instantly, she shut her eyes.
“Oh, it’s fucking wonderful,” She exhaled. “You have to try one.” 
Your fingers were on the cusp of grabbing one when Jamie grabbed your hand.
“Oi. Those have lobster in them.”
“Does it?” Keeley asked loudly before grabbing another one to examine it. Slowly lowering your arm back down to the table, Jamie still had a soft grasp on your wrist. 
“Oh my god, it does!” She exclaimed, leaning forward. “I almost killed ya. I’m so sorry.” 
Jamie rose from his seat, leaning towards you before saying, “I’m running to the toilet.” As he walked away, you watched him until he disappeared down a hallway. 
“I’m so glad you two found each other,” Keeley said, and it was then that you noticed she had moved into his seat when you weren’t paying attention. As you turned your head towards her, your gaze lingered on the hallway he disappeared down for another moment before jumping back to her. 
“I spent months during our relationship wishing he would look at me the way he looks at you.” 
You smiled down at your lap. 
“It’s not real,” You said without thinking. “None of it is real.” Keeley looked surprised at your sentiment briefly. She leaned forward, placing her hand over yours.
“Of course it’s real, babe,” She said softly. “Anyone can see how much he loves you, and how much you love him. And you should hear how he talks about ya when you’re not around.” 
This made you look up. Opening your mouth to speak, you were interrupted by the music getting louder. It was time for the bride and groom to make their entrance. Just before they made their entrance, Jamie rushed in with his head down. Keeley spotted him just in time to switch back to her own seat. 
You leaned towards Roy. “Aren’t you supposed to be up there too?”
“Fuck no. I hate this shit, and told Beard I wouldn’t do it.” 
The room erupted in applause as Coach Beard and Jane made their entrance, dancing down the pathway in the middle of the room towards the table set just for them. It took you a second to realise that everyone around you had stood up, and you quickly shot out of your seat to join them. You heard a laugh from behind you, and you had to resist the urge to shoot Jamie a dirty look. 
An announcement was made that the buffet was now open, and before you knew it, you were rushing over to join the line. 
The options felt endless and chaotic, which, in fairness, really encapsulated Beard and Jane’s entire relationship quite nicely. There was pizza, pasta, chicken tenders, burgers, fries, a salad bar. If you thought of any sort of American cuisine, it was probably somewhere on that table. 
“What’re ya grabbin’?” Jamie asked, leaning over your shoulder as you used a pair of tongs to pick up some fries.
“Probably everything,” You admitted, your stomach picking that exact moment to let out a loud rumble. As you set a few chicken tenders on the plate, Jamie reached over and grabbed a fry off your dish, plopping it in his mouth as yours fell agape.
“That was mine!” You whined. “Get your own!” 
“Why would I do that when you’re doin’ it for me?” He asked, grabbing a tender from your dish and taking a bite. It was hard to feel genuinely offended when he was smiling at you the way he was. 
“I’m gonna starve to death because of you,” You said, feigning the offence as best as you could. “Then you’ll feel really bad, won’t you?”
His laugh could be heard over the music, a symphony filling your ears that drowned out every other sound. 
“Fine,” He said, putting some fries on his own plate. “I won’t deprive ya anymore, darlin’.”
“Thank fuck,” Roy said from behind him. “If I had to keep watchin’ this, I’d have to throw up on the bride.” A crinkle formed between your eyebrows.
“I don’t think you’d have to throw up right on the bride,” You pointed out. He shook his head.
“I would,” He declared. “You two would force me to.” 
“Plenty of other places to vomit, I think,” Jamie added. 
“And yet, it would be right on the bride. And after, I’d tell her it was because of the both of you.”
Once back at the table, you dug into your food without much conversation. You mainly spent the time looking around. For the most part, the wedding was smaller than you had imagined it to be. It was just the team, Jane’s family, and then a random assortment of people who they both knew. 
The maid of honour rose from her seat, clearing her throat before bringing her mouth to the microphone.
“Here we go,” Jamie muttered, continuing to eat. 
“Is it bad that I hate these speeches?” You whispered to him. “Like I’m here for the bride and groom… why do I care about what some other random person has to say about it?” 
“It’s like, I don’t need their full story of how they know the couple, ‘cos I don’t care ‘bout them at all. They ain’t who I’m here for,” He mumbled in agreement. 
“And then they’re trying so hard to say something thought provoking and profound…”
“Okay, sweetheart, you’re not the next Hemingway or some shit.”
“Exactly! I won’t be using your speech in my instagram captions anytime soon.” 
Roy grunted from across the table and the both of you stopped talking. You continued to eat your food and didn’t listen to the speech that was given. The applause of the small crowd alerted you to the end, and you kindly set down your plate and joined in. 
“Your turn?” Jamie asked, gesturing his fork towards Roy. To the surprise of both of you, Roy shook his head.
“No speech from me,” He said simply. Jamie and you exchanged a look before turning back to him.
“Not entering with everyone else is one thing,” You said, face scrunched in annoyance and confusion towards your friend. “But not doing the best man's speech? Roy, please.” But he simply shook his head, in lieu of words, before nodding behind you as the sound of the doors clicking open echoed through the hall. Everyone in the room turned in their seats, curious by the new entrance being made.
“Sorry I’m late.” The familiarity of the voice made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
Your head snapped in Roy’s direction, who, in rare form, was smiling. 
You turned back towards the door in time to see the former AFC Richmond Coach, Ted Lasso himself enter the room. 
“Airport lost my luggage. Had to find a store that could get me a tux faster than lickity split.”
Coach Beard shrieked.
Half of the room was flying out of their seats, Jamie and Keeley included.
The entire AFC Richmond team surrounded Ted, loud cheers and shouts coming from their direction. He was laughing, giving each member a hand shake or- most commonly- a big hug. The excitement was contagious, the smile never waning from your face. Though you knew Ted as well, you stayed in your seat and watched the purifying scene in front of you. There would be chances to say hello later. 
“You big fucking softie,” You said to Roy, turning back to face him. “You arranged this for them, didn’t you?” 
“I would arrange anything to get out of givin’ a speech.” Despite what he said, the smile tugging at his lips gave the answer you were looking for. 
Jamie was the last to hug Ted before the team all excitedly went back to their seats. As Jamie sat down, you noted him wiping tears from his eyes. Coach Beard was standing, but he never left the spot next to his new bride. Ted cleared his throat before turning back to his friend. 
“Wrote a little somethin’ on the plane,” He continued, taking out a couple of pieces of paper out of his jacket pocket and unfolding them. “There are many perfect pairs in our world’s history. Peanut butter and jelly. McCartney and Lennon. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. And, at least in my world, these two have joined those ranks.” he looked around at the crowd wistfully. Everyone was on the edge of their seats, waiting to hear what he was going to say. “What a powerful love we’ve all gotten to witness, and now see come together.” He smiled, shaking his head. “It’s the kind of love we all wish we had.”
Subconsciously, you looked over at Jamie, only to find he was already looking at you. 
“When I met our friend Coach Beard here, he was a lost vessel of a man, tryin’ to find his place in a broken society. Watchin’ his transformation into the loving, quiet, passionate man he is today is a privilege, and so is calling him my best friend.” Tears were streaming down Coach Beard’s face in bucketfuls. Ted gave another small head shake. If you looked close enough, you could see the tears forming in his eyes, as well. “He found Jane exactly when he was meant to, when he was ready to.”
Jamie took your hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze.
“I know that these two will be making each other happy for the rest of their lives. Playing chess without a board. Being silly and loud and weird in a way only they understand. And I hope we can all agree when I say I can’t wait to be there to see it.”
Your heart in your chest was thumping a million times a minute as you looked at Jamie, electricity shooting down your spine. His attention was back on Ted, eyes and cheeks wet. 
“To end this out, I have a quote from one of the best romantic dramas to grace this Earth.” Ted took a deep breath before continuing. “‘I don't want to sound foolish, but remember love is what brought you here. And if you've trusted love this far, don't panic now. Trust it all the way.’” Ted gave a smile. “Congratulations to my friends, Beard and Jane.” A waiter walked up with a glass of champagne, handing it to him. “Thanks, bud.” He raised the glass in the air. “To a lifetime of being weird together.” 
Everyone began cheering and applauding as they raised their glasses to Beard and Jane. Beard basically jumped over the table and ran into the arms of his friend. Seeing them together again made tears spring into your eyes. 
“Fuck you, Roy,” You said as you dabbed at your eyes with a napkin.
“The fuck did I do?” 
“If you had given the speech, I wouldn’t be crying right now.” He grunted.
“Actually, you should’ve heard what he had prepared before asking Ted,” Keeley said, shaking her head. “‘Bout bawled my eyes out.” 
“Yeah,” Roy added. “You should be thankin’ me.”
“I’ll stick with telling you to fuck yourself.”
Ted returned the microphone to the DJ before making his way over. Roy stood and gave him a hug, the both of them giving the other a loving clap on the back. He leaned down and hugged Keeley, mumbling a greeting into her ear that you couldn’t hear over the start of the first dance. 
“And here’s my favourite medic,” Ted said excitedly as he leaned down to hug you.
“My favourite former AFC Richmond coach,” You said as you hugged him back. He kissed your cheek before letting you go, a glowing smile on his face.
“I heard you’re finally making my man here settle down,” He said, clapping a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. A warmth filled your cheeks as you glanced at Jamie, the realisation hitting you that his hand was still holding yours.
“I think it’s him settling me down, honestly,” You told him. Ted chuckled.
“That doesn’t sound like something I’d hear about the old Jamie,” He said, shaking his head before turning towards the footballer. “I’m still so proud of the man you’ve become.” 
Jamie’s eyes were welling up again as he looked up at his former coach. 
“Couldn’t have gotten here without ya, Coach.” Ted shook his head.
“You were always destined for better. Can’t give me all the credit,” He said simply, giving Jamie’s shoulder one last squeeze and wandering off. When Jamie turned to face the table again, his hand was against his chest, and it stayed there for a long time before dropping down to his lap once more. 
Once the first dance ended, the music switched to another slow song, the dance floor filling up with couples sharing a dance. 
“Wanna dance with me?” Jamie asked, raising his eyebrows at you as he stood from his seat. You smiled, not speaking as you stood up with him.
Finding an empty corner on the dance floor, Jamie turned and took a step closer to you. Your lungs forced a deep exhale before you draped your arms over his shoulders, his hands on your hips as you and him began to sway to the music.
“Sorry ‘bout this mornin’,” He said sheepishly as he took a look around. “Just caught me off guard, is all.” 
“It’s fine. Caught me off guard too,” You admitted. Nodding his head, he turned back to face you. The light was hitting his eyes in just the right way, adding a twinkle as he stared directly into yours.
“Dunno why it felt so weird,” He said, a furrow forming in his eyebrow. “Like, we’ve actually slept together, and yet wakin’ up like that tossed us, d’ya know what I mean?” You nodded, not saying anything for a while. You knew exactly why it felt weird. The dynamic was largely different before that night spent together. Feelings hadn’t been put on the table yet. There was one thing he was wrong about though.
“It rocked me,” You said in a distant tone as you stared off into the dancing crowd. “Us sleeping together.” A beat passed. “In more ways than one, I should say.” He laughed at your joke, despite continuing to look confused. 
“How?”
Your eyes trailed back to look into his.
“It made this real,” You said, biting your cheek tersely before going on. “And it made me afraid… so afraid. That’s why… That’s why I said what I said before the last match.”
You were very aware in this moment of his hands on your hips, and his eyes searching your face.
“What are ya afraid of?” He asked, as if the question had been lingering in his mind for too long. You swallowed down the lump in your throat.
“That you’ll see right through me,” You said quietly. “And that’ll cause you to leave, eventually.” He leaned in slightly closer.
“Do ya wanna hear a secret?” 
Confused, you nodded.
“I already see right through you,” He said so quietly that no one could overhear. “And that’s what’s been makin’ me stay.”
It felt like your brain was short circuiting. All you could do was stare at him, trying and failing to process what he said. The music stopped and the bride was getting ready to throw the bouquet, not that you noticed. Keeley ran over to grab your hand and drag you away from Jamie, who was smiling softly as you were pulled away. The two of you joined the group of women already lined up to fight for the bundle of flowers, and their supposed chance at marriage.
“Get ready!” Keeley said in a voice that suggested that she would spill blood in order to catch this bouquet. Taking a slight step away from her, you turned to the front just as the bride threw the bouquet. Without moving a muscle, in true romantic comedy fashion, the bouquet landed easily into your hands. If it hadn’t been so easy, maybe you wouldn’t have been so surprised. But Keeley still yelled out in excitement for you. 
“YES BABE!” She shrieked, throwing your hand up in the air and spinning around towards Jamie. “Tartt! You’re next!” 
Jamie’s face was beet red as he was being congratulated by the members of the team, who had all gathered to watch the bouquet toss. They grabbed him and shook his shoulders, or smacked his back playfully. His eyes landed on you, his smile wide, as your brain went right back to stalling out. 
You stared at the flowers in your hand. It felt like something had just changed in your head. Something clicked. You took a look around, trying to see if anyone else was also feeling this way. But no. Why would they? It was just you. When your eyes found the flowers once more, you let out a staggered breath. A drip of sweat was running down your spine. When did it get so hot in here?
As the men gathered to do whatever Coach’s equivalent to the garter toss was, as Jane insisted that there would be no taking pieces of clothing off her body and throwing it into a crowd of men, you snuck out of the dance hall and made your way outside. Your lungs felt like you were stuck in a building on fire, desperate for oxygen. 
The back garden felt like a maze as you walked along the pathways, surrounded by shrubbery and flowers. A set of steps lead down to more of the same. The whole area was well lit with lanterns, which you were grateful for. 
A second set of steps lead to a field of grass, which ended with a large lake. In the middle was an island that had a giant tree, almost like a fairytale. Slipping out of your shoes and leaving them on the steps, you walked through the grass and towards the water. The grass felt amazing against your feet paired with the cool breeze kissing your skin. The flowers were still in your hands, held against your chest as if you were walking down the aisle yourself. 
Overwhelmed was an understatement.
He found Jane exactly when he was meant to, when he was ready to.
‘I don't want to sound foolish, but remember love is what brought you here. And if you've trusted love this far, don't panic now. Trust it all the way.’
Was that why it happened the way it did? Was that why that one summer evening, at a house party in Keeley’s backyard, you were catapulted into the whirlwind fake romance that you didn’t ask for? Because you were ready to move on from the arsehole who broke you in more ways than one? You certainly didn’t feel ready at that time.
But you were now. 
It hit you like a tsunami making contact with land.
It couldn’t wait another minute. There was no sense. A perfectly good man, who was kind, loving, and not a hurtful bone in his body was right there, waiting for you to decide that you were willing to put aside your hurt and pain to be with him. It felt so senseless. There was never going to be a perfect time. A time where you were perfectly mentally healthy and over your trauma. He knew of the ghosts of your past and the damage you had been dealt, and still loved you anyway.
Maybe you didn’t have to be completely over the mountain in order to let him in. Maybe that was the point. He wasn’t waiting for you at the peak. He wanted to help you get there. 
“Oi! You alright?”
When you turned, Jamie was making his way through the grass towards you. Tangling from his hands were the shoes you had just taken off. “Not goin’ for a swim, are ya?”
You shook your head, breathing out a shaky laugh.
“Too cold for swimming, I think,” You replied. He stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
You swallowed hard.
“I’m ready.”
The moon shined off his face, so you could just make out the confusion filling his expression.
“To leave?” He asked. “We just got here-”
“No, Jamie,” You said firmly, taking a small step forward. His arms seemed to fall closer to his sides as he waited. You took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
Realisation fell over him, his eyebrows raising to his hairline as his mouth formed into an O shape. He took a step forward, appearing as if it was involuntary. 
“What changed?” He set your shoes down onto the grass.
You glanced down at the flowers before looking back at him.
“Nothing.” Pause. “Everything.”
Carefully, he began to walk towards you, as if your mind would be changed by his speed. With every step, your heart beat faster, almost taking off out of your chest by the time he stopped directly in front of you. 
“You better mean it, if you say it,” He said in a low voice, slightly quaking. “Don’t do me any favours-”
“I mean it,” You interrupted, shaking your head. “It wasn’t the wedding. Or me feeling lonely or some other dumb shit. It was me being tired of wasting time pretending like this isn’t real. Like I’m not stupid in love with you.” A tear fell down your cheek in a way that was annoying, but you kept going anyway. “I’m sorry for taking so long. I’m so sorry.”
His lips were crashing into yours before you had the chance to realise he was even leaning in. The bouquet fell to the ground. His left hand was holding your face tightly, as if he feared you would pull away, his right arm tight around your waist. While you had one hand tangled in his hair, the other had the collar of his shirt wrapped in a fist. 
“I love ya,” He mumbled against your lips as he continued to kiss you.
“Say it again.” 
He pulled away from you, giving you a look before bringing a kiss to your forehead.
“I love ya.”
A kiss to your temple.
“I love ya.” 
A kiss to your other temple.
“I love ya.” 
A kiss to your cheek.
“I love ya.” 
A kiss to your other cheek.
“I love ya.”
A kiss to your nose.
He leaned in close to your face, his breath hot against your cheeks
“I love ya.” 
Then he was kissing you again. The wind blew passed, but you already had a shiver shooting up your spine, making it hard to feel the cold in the air. He ran his hands up and down your arms, from the tops of your shoulders to the ends of your fingertips.
“Fuckin’ hell.”
He shrugged off his jacket, and was throwing it over your shoulders before the kiss had even ended. 
“Fuckin’ freezin’, you are. Why didn’t you say somethin’?” He asked before pulling away. Laughing as he adjusted the jacket on you, he leaned back to admire how it looked. You shrugged, looking brightly at him.
“I didn’t notice,” You admitted. Because you hadn’t noticed. You were too wrapped up in his warmth. 
“Alright, goofy, let’s go back inside.” 
He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he lead you back towards the garden. 
“Only if you dance with me again,” You told him, bumping your hip into yours. 
He looked over at you, smile full and eyes wide, before saying, “For you, love, we can do whatever you want.” 
And for the first time in your life, you knew without a doubt  that as long as he was by your side, you would never have a want or beg for anything again.
~
TAGS
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463 notes · View notes
jellylimesoda · 1 year ago
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beautiful city
pairing ; jamie tartt x f!reader
wc ; 740
prompt ; when they accidentally fall asleep on you / in your arms
warnings ; mentions of jamie's shitty dad
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Amsterdam was the most beautiful city you had ever visited, and the fact that you got to explore it with your boyfriend made it an even more beautiful experience. 
With Jamie's help, you had created nothing but positive memories in Amsterdam, and hoped that you could help erase the horrid memories his dad had forced on him of this wonderful city. 
Because of the lack of a curfew for any of the team, the two of you had unknowingly stayed out all night and had only realised the time when you saw the sun rising over the canal. 
There were no words to describe how wonderful your night had been, but the lack of sleep was catching up on both of you as you finished up packing your bags in the hotel room, ready to return to Richmond in just under an hour. 
Sat on the hotel bed folding up your sweatshirt, you were incredibly tempted to just lean back against the ruffled duvet and pillows and sleep, but just as you started slipping back into the soft fabric, jamie returned from his short errand with two takeaway cups in a holder in one hand and a paper bag in the other. 
When the room door shut behind him you shot up again and speedily slid your jumper into your bag. 
“ hey babe, got us some tea to keep us awake for a little bit…” he explained, setting the cups down on the bedside table along with the bag of pastries. 
“ thanks “ you replied, stifling a yawn as you zipped up your bag and set it down on the floor by the bed. “ maybe it’ll work after i fall asleep “ you muttered, leaning back against the pillows, your eyes falling shut as the urge to sleep overwhelmed you. 
“ no.. shit.. Babe. ya can’t fall asleep. It’s a different time zone and we gotta get down to the coach “ 
You knew that that made a lot of sense but you could sense your body shutting down against the cotton fabric. 
But before you could let yourself completely go, you felt jamie’s arms lifting you to a sitting position, his colder hands resting on your cheeks. 
You forced your eyes open a couple of times to try and wake yourself up and it worked for a few moments, causing a soft smile to spread across jamies lips before he pressed a short kiss to your forehead. 
“ c’mon, i’ll grab the bags, you grab the teas and we’ll head down to the coach.” he proposed and you shook your head in a tired nod before standing from the bed. 
You did as jamie suggested, grabbing the teas and pastries he had collected while he grabbed the bags from the floor. 
You had never been more thankful for automatic checkout. You grabbed the room key and once in the lobby you dropped the key into a box and left the hotel, going straight for the Richmond branded coach in the car park. 
Once jamie dropped the bags under the coach, he took the pastries from you to free up one of your hands and led you onto the vehicle, heading for a seat to stay in for the next number of hours. 
Once sat down against the window, jamie unfolded the tray table in front of him and set everything in front of him so you could get in beside him, your head instantly taking residence on his shoulder. 
A smile settled on his lips, knowing you were too tired to stay up for the entire 8 hour coach journey. He had at least expected you to last until they left but apparently not. 
He gently lifted you to move the armrest between the two and settled you back against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around your body in hopes to prevent you from jostling too much during the ride. 
He knew you weren't going to be able to sleep once you got home but that was something the two of you could deal with later. 
As for right now, he was content to let you use his arm so you could sleep comfortably. 
Before he got too comfortable, he pulled out his earphones from his pocket and slotted them in, finally closing his eyes for the first time since before the match yesterday. 
Even if they didn't win the match, it had been one of the best weekends he had spent in this beautiful city.
364 notes · View notes
spell-bloom · 7 months ago
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DON’T FORGET ABOUT VCU
Richmond police assaulted peaceful students at VCU on Monday April 29th, 2024. The students were granted permission by the university to protest. The protest officially started at 5PM EST outside of the Cabell Library, but several students started as early as 8 AM. They called it the Palestine Liberation Zone. Hundreds of VCU students attended.
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The protesters' list of demands from VCU. They were not going to leave until the University acquiesced.
At 8:30 PM EST, Richmond police arrived at the protest in full riot gear. The pallets you see were brought in by the students to protect the tents, and themselves, from police. The University called in the police.
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At 9PM, the police were armed with riot shields and formed a wall against the students. Students used pallets, signs, and themselves to press back against officers. Some flung empty water bottles against them. One of the officers used pepper spray against the students. You can see several students in the windows in the library.
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Another officer pepper spraying students and setting off a tear gas canister.
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RPD are claiming that they did not use tear gas.
The police retreated and the students heckle and cheer in victory.
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By 9:12 PM, the students were locked inside the library by police for their safety and to prevent any chemicals from entering the building. Here is a video from a student's POV inside of the Cabell Library.
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A student being arrested.
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Sanitation workers take away tents and anything that was left behind. Laptops, books and other school materials were thrown away in a dumpster or were destroyed. Several students say that officers were snacking on the food that was left behind.
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Past midnight, the organizers told the students to go home. The students in the library were officially let go after 4 hours of being stuck there. 13 arrests were made.
This is the University's response:
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Is VCU providing safety to students in the form of riot police, pepper spray and tear gas? Almost all of the protesters were students of VCU, with maybe a handful of non-students joining in, according to a student who attends there. If the campus did not want disruption, they should not have given the green light to students protesting peacefully against genocide.
Here are several videos of the students being 'violent'
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Sources: linked on twitter and a friend who attends VCU If any students or witnesses want to give more information, please feel free to comment or contact so I can update the post.
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belmottetower · 2 years ago
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3.10 International Meta
Ted Lasso’s International Break details - actually extremely accurate! I am pleasantly surprised! If you read my review of episode 9, you’d have seen at the end the part where we freaked out about the potential for bad exposition regarding this stuff. But they actually fucking nailed it! And they left so much space for amazing fic and headcanons!
I’m going to overhaul the International Break page on the primer to include all the new information and erase stuff that is now erroneous and I will post again when done, but in the meantime, here are some notes about details in this episode that hopefully will be exciting to think about, in terms of gap-filling fic or otherwise. Trust me, applying some of the below information to the show really heightens an already VERY AMAZING episode. Uncle’s Day! Gareth Southgate! 24!
Ted Lasso season 3 is set in the 2021/2022 football season. We have a thorough timeline of season 3 coming for the primer, but in 3.10, Richmond has played 31 league matches so far (16 wins, 6 losses, 9 draws according to the board) and the time being featured in this episode is the annual March international break. 
In real life, this break happened from 21-29 March 2022. There also would have been international breaks in August, October and November 2021. These were not featured on the show but would have occurred in between episodes, regardless of whether any players were called up during them or not. The August break would have happened during the Zava montage of wins in episode 3, the October break would have happened directly after episode 3 and before episode 4, and the November break would have happened in the bad run of matches that happened off screen between episode 4 and episode 5.
The March break is usually dedicated to continental friendlies rather than tournament qualifiers. Each international team would have played TWO games that week within their confederation, so Canada played Mexico once and some other CONCACAF nation once. England and Wales would have each played two UEFA opponents, and so on. 
The international matches are generally spaced out over something like Thursday and Saturday, or Friday and Sunday - a few days training, play one game, more days training, play the next game, recovery, press, back to the regular league club by the following Tuesday.
The moment Beard reads out the names in the dressing room after the Leicester match would not be the first moment the players are finding out this news. That international announcement does not happen on a match day, and they guys are responding happily but not as excitedly as they would if this was The Big News Announcement, especially for Jamie’s very first time. That moment was a summary of already known information, the call-ups would have come in the week before. 
They’ve just played Leicester on the Saturday and Jamie for instance would have got the news sometime between Monday to Thursday of the prior week. This year, the England squad announcement for the March break was released to the public on Thursday 16th March before the players showed up at St George’s Park to train on the following Monday the 20th. I’m sad we did not actually get to see Jamie’s call-up moment, but the primer has a BUNCH of examples about how he may have gotten the news so feel free to peruse and imagine your favourite situation for Jamie.
Dani is the only person we know for sure has had prior call ups - he’s listed as a Mexico international on the cheat sheet since before he even came to Richmond - but on this break, Jamie is the only person they mention making his debut, his very first call-up (invitation to be in the squad) and potential cap (cap being the term for actually making an appearance - he could have been called up but not capped, as in, didn’t come off the bench.) That Jamie detail kind of implies all the others have done it before, but that doesn’t quite fit with Ted not knowing that Bumbercatch is playing for Switzerland, as they would have gone through like, nine prior international breaks before this one since Ted’s arrival.
Pretty sure Bumbercatch IS English, but he must be eligible for Switzerland under the grandparent rule. Basically, when you select your international eligibility, you can claim it for the country of birth of one of your parents or grandparents. Players will sometimes do this if their main nationality is from a more competitive footballing country. You can switch allegiance between junior and senior levels (Jack Grealish and Declan Rice, both VERY ENGLISH MEN, played for Ireland as juniors because they had a better chance of being selected there. When it became clear they were England-good, they switched allegiances for senior selection. Irish fans are still angry about this.) I’m assuming Bumbercatch has at least one Swiss parent or grandparent so put himself up for FIFA eligibility as Swiss rather than English, as the Switzerland team is easier to get into than the England team.
England trains at St George’s Park near Birmingham, about 130 miles/ 2 and a half hours drive from Richmond. Jamie would have trained at SGP before as a junior England player in the age group teams (see the primer about how this is almost 100% a given) so it would not be a brand new place for him to visit, but it would be very special coming in as an England senior player for the first time on the Monday morning.
The team travels down from SGP to London to play their home matches at Wembley Stadium, the home of English football and the same place the semi-final against Man City took place last season. This is only about 10 miles from Richmond, hence Beard saying “up the way at Wembley.” Sometimes both matches of the break are at home, or sometimes one is abroad and they fly to the other country. FWIW, in real life, the two England games in the March 2022 break were both at Wembley, so no overseas travel.
The jacket Jamie is wearing for Uncle’s Day is an example of the casual England wear the players get given upon their call up (as opposed to their training kit or match kit.) This is what they will wear to travel as a group, or in their free time around camp. Sometimes they get gear sent over the week before so they can already be dressed in the team gear when they arrive (there are social media videos made of their arrivals) or sometimes they pick it all their gear on arrival.
Jamie would have reported for International Duty probably on Monday. Occasionally the report-in is Tuesday. But Uncle’s Day is happening on WEDNESDAY. (Keeley references the day of the week in her scenes set that same day.) The reason I bring this timeline up is because it’s looking likely that Jamie ran away from the England camp to attend this party. He either drove himself down from Birmingham after training on Wednesday afternoon - very not allowed, they are kept pretty firmly on campus - or the team traveled down to London VERY early, because Jamie’s first Wembley match takes place on Friday, not Thursday. The fact that he has sourced an original copy of the 2014 World Cup kit for Roy and was able to get the name cuntified in a legitimate manner suggests to me that he actually got that done at by the kit men at the England base camp, making it even more likely that he’s been at camp and snuck away back to London for the afternoon. 
2014 was Roy’s last World Cup, but his last England cap, ever, was in the 2016 Euros (in a real life game that England lost, a very low point - we suspect this is also when he left Chelsea, at the end of the 15/16 season) and given his legendary status in the game, it’s not unlikely his first international tournament was either the 2000 Euros or the 2002 World Cup. Comparing how the show frames him to other players like him, I would guess he has anywhere between 70 to 120 caps.
3.10 establishes, via Jamie’s gift to Roy, that the World Cup cycle within Ted Lasso is the same years as real life, so there is a World Cup coming up for the players right after season 3 finishes. If Ted Lasso-verse does a different host to real life (the controversial choice of Qatar) the 2022 Ted Lasso World Cup will be in the June and July immediately following the finale. If Qatar is mentioned, the 2022 World Cup won’t take place until November 2022, disrupting the Premier League during the following season (season 4, if we get it.)
The commentary of the England match mentions Southgate - meaning that Gareth Southgate, the real England manager, is also the manager within the show. This is GREAT news for Jamie enjoyers, almost as good news as Real Pep. See primer for details on Southgate and how he would have crossed paths with Jamie before. This is a VERY BIG DEAL and a bit of a dream come true for me. Gareth is about a decade older than Roy, they would know each other from some crossover playing time in the early 2000s. He would have played at England alongside Roy if Roy debuted for England before 2004.
I just had a conversation that made me realise that some people might think that league or club coaches might also join the England team for breaks the way that players do. Not how it works. Managing England is a full time job - Gareth Southgate is not ALSO a club coach. Sometimes the assistant coaches have other jobs - for a while Ted Lasso match commentator Chris Powell was helping to coach England while also helping to coach the Tottenham Hotspur academy team. But Gareth's ONLY job is the England men's first team, including keeping up with the status of potential squad members all year and so on.
It's not impossible that Roy could eventually be brought on to the England assistant coaching staff while also assistant coaching Richmond - in real life one of West Ham’s assistant coaches does this - but Roy doesn't have a lot of experience coaching so it's unlikely, and it's not going to happen if Roy becomes the actual manager of Richmond at the end of the season. Still. It could be a fun idea if Roy doesn’t become the manager.
Jamie wearing 24 is very plausible within how national squad numbering works and it is actually the number we suggested for him in the primer before this episode aired! Our choice was nothing to do with Sam, but was chosen because it was the number given to Callum Wilson, England’s non-starting striker, in the World Cup. Jamie will not be England’s go-to 9 for many years. 
Jamie could have requested 24, but the international shirt numbering is not a free for all. You can’t select 54 or 81 or something. The squad is numbered from 1 to however many (usually 26) with no gaps, and it’s not fixed and permanent like club numbers. Who gets what number is altered every match based on the starting line up, unless you’re in a big tournament where you keep the same shirt number the whole month. For an international friendly like this, the starters for that game will wear 1 through 11, then all the substitutes will be numbered on from there. 
Given that Jamie is brand new to the team, and on the bench (he comes on at the 65th minute when it’s 6-0 to England, replacing the not-Harry-Kane England starting striker who wears the 9, a very normal situation for a game that’s going successfully, rest your stars and give the newbies a chance to stretch their legs) being numerically low in list makes sense. He would have always had a number between say 22 and 26, but within that, he could probably make a request, if it isn’t putting anyone else out, like “Hey, if no one minds, can I have 24?” as opposed to 22, 23, 25 or whatever. They do give people their favorites if they ask for it, so it works PERFECTLY for him to have 24, as it fits his position in the team as well as the Sam tribute.
However, his squad number would have been listed on the team sheet in advance of the match. Sam being surprised in the moment is slightly off - they would have seen his number when they learned he'd been selected for the game's lineup at all.
For those bummed out that Jamie’s friends were not there in person - England would have played another match on the Sunday, there is never just one in a break. Maybe Roy, Keeley, Ted, Isaac, Sam and so on went to Wembley to support him at the Sunday match in person before club training resumed at Richmond on the Monday or Tuesday.
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jamietarttsnorthernattitude · 6 months ago
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Making a post to keep all my @badthingshappenbingo fics together.
Laid on a Stretcher - After the gala, Jamie saves Roy from being hit by a car.
Dislocated joint - Post Dubai Air boycott, Jamie is just beginning to find his place back at Richmond. When he's hurt during a match, Sam takes it upon himself to show Jamie how much he means to both him and the team.
Common Cold - Jamie gets a cold, Roy and the team take care of him.
Confidence Shattered - Jamie suffers a concussion during the Zava era.
Home Invasion - what it says on the tin (this will eventually be continued)
Outnumbered in a fight - Jamie jumped after leaving Ted at the Crown & Anchor (tinkering with the idea of continuing this)
Bloodied knuckles - Jamie and his Dad get into a fight, Roy rushes over in the middle of the night and they both try to support each other and get through it.
Arm in sling - the prick signal goes wrong followed by accidental weed brownie consumption followed by Roy having to take care of Jamie and his stuffed shark.
Accidentally hurt by a friend - Roy falls off his bike and what are friends for if not to break your fall? Unfortunately for Jamie, Roy’s fall isn’t the only thing that’s broken.
Crutches - Drunk and lonely while Keeley and Jamie are in Brazil, Roy makes a wish in a moment of weakness that he never trained Jamie. He wakes up the next morning the day of the press conference in Mom City in a world where his wish came true. The team is struggling, things with Keeley are a disaster, he’s on his sister’s shit list after yelling at Phoebe. And Jamie? Jamie’s worse than ever. Roy’s left picking up the pieces.
Headache/migraine - When Roy Kent gets a migraine before his first Champions League match as manager he does his best to pretend he’s fine. The rest of AFC Richmond does their best to take care of him.
Handstomp - After Wembley, James makes sure Jamie understands the consequences of his actions.
I have ideas for most of these but if you have any or there's anything you want to see, feel free to drop it in my inbox!
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theereina · 5 days ago
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Big Mama Pt. 7
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC
Wordcount: +3.7K
Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), P in V, oral (male receiving), Dom!Terry, breeding kink, spanking, bondage, degradation, rough sex, slight fluff at the end
A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.
Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 5 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 6 => 🦋
*Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥
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“Get up!” Terry said grabbing my arm. “Ow!” I whined. “Shut the fuck up! You gone have something to cry for soon,” he said looking down at me. We were chest to chest, and the side of my hip was pressed against the dining table. The sexual tension was becoming more and more unbearable as Terry's eyes burned into mine. “Just remember I love you, kitten,” he said leaning into my ear. His gaze darkened with lust and became penetrating and menacing.
It was as if Terry could see right through me. I fiddled with my hands while my gaze fell to the ground. “What's wrong, kitten? Are you nervous? Huh?” he asked lifting my chin to meet his gaze. I looked away quickly. I was unsure of how to answer that. I was slightly nervous but wasn't about to let him know.
“No, sir,” I said locking eyes with him. “Good. I don't want you to be nervous.— I want you to be fuckin' terrified,” he said pushing me onto the kitchen table, so I was flat on my back. He leaned over me and snatched the tie from the curtains. “Don't fuckin' move!” he yelled as he grabbed my hands. He tied the rope around my wrists with my palms together.
Terry’s hands moved through the side slit of my dress. Locating my panties, I felt his fingers loop around the seat of the fabric. “Y’know… I honestly don't understand why you still wear’em. I’m just gonna rip… them off!” he said snatching them from my body. The sound of the fabric ripping was deafening as it coursed through my eardrums. The kitchen table slammed into the wall forcefully.
The level of excitement and arousal I was experiencing was astronomical. I couldn't think of anything that would ever top this. His dick hadn't even touched me yet, and I was losing my mind. The heightened intensity of Terry's aggression was animalistic in nature, provoking a craving I had never felt. My heart was pounding, my skin was tingling, and my pussy was throbbing uncontrollably. He was tha much closer to fully unleashing the fervid beast within him. I was really about to let this man do whatever the fuck he wanted to me— no holds barred.
Before I could react, I was tossed over Terry’s shoulder. His arm looped around my waist as he carried me with no effort. My bound hands were hitting the back of Terry’s legs as he ascended the stairs. “Terry!” I whimpered. “Ye… What did you just call me?” Terry snapped as his movements ceased. We were positioned at the top of the stairs.
“That's not my name. You know better,” Terry said placing me on my feet before him. I staggered before regaining my balance. “Sorry— ,” I said taking a deep breath. “So, you're gonna refuse to say it? Is that what we're doing? Oh, I hope you know… I honestly do. You're asking for it, baby!” Terry said stepping closer to me. “I don't deserve respect. Is that what your tellin' me? You don't respect me?” Terry asked grabbing my chin. “Look at me when I'm talkin' to you!” Terry yelled. “Sorry—. Sorry, Daddy. I won't do it again,” I said looking Terry directly in the eyes. “Oh, that's not gonna work. On your knees, then apologize!” Terry said snapping at the floor. From that move alone, I didn't know whether I was shocked, offended, or turned on.
I looked down at the floor. I balanced my hands in front of me before slowly getting on my knees. I rested my weight on my calves and held my hands in my lap. “I'm sorry, Daddy. Forgive me for not calling you by your proper name,” I said letting my gaze linger on Terry's feet. “Unfortunately, apologies mean nothing to me. Actions speak louder than words. Let's go!” Terry said snatching me up by my arm.
He pulled me towards the open door of the master bedroom. He was practically dragging me in. He turned towards me and looped his arm around my waist., pushing me towards the bed. I sat at the foot of the bed and anxiously watched Terry's every move. He leaned over me, bringing his mouth to my ear. His hands fumbled with the knots that secured the rope around my wrists. “Strip,” he rumbled through gritted teeth.
I flexed my freed wrists as I slowly pushed the top of my dress down. The fabric bundled up around my hips like a cloud. Terry's eyes fell to my breasts. I lifted my hips to push the dress off and onto the floor. “This is your last chance to back out. Whatchu gone do, huh? I'm not gonna force you. If you're scared, let me know now,” he said standing to his full height. I held my breath as I struggled to formulate an answer. Unfortunately for me, my mouth was still in brat mode.
“Do I look scared? Or, are you just too weak to finish what you started? Don't use me as an excuse,” I said looking under my lashes at Terry. His stance stiffened as he began clenching and unclenching his fists. I watched his hands intently. I knew he wanted to hem my thick ass up.
Terry's face was obscure of emotions, almost indecipherable. I couldn't tell if he was pissed or impressed. He closed his eyes slowly and released a silent breath. His head rolled on his shoulders as if he was loosening up. I pulled my legs under me and began scooting back on the bed. Yeah, I fucked up. Terry's eyes opened and his irises had darkened to bronze. Shit! A menacing smirk spread across his face. All pretenses of softness and kindness were no longer present. “Terry” was gone.
Terry walked away and stepped into the closet. I could hear him searching through bags. He reappeared with two sets of handcuffs. Without saying a word, he used one hand and grabbed both of mine. He pulled me by arms and up to the headboard. He leaned over me and handcuffed me to it. Each hand outstretched away from me and restricting my movements. Terry pulled my body up slightly so my back was against the headboard. I was positioned in a t-pose.
He stood up beside the bed, looking down at me. “You look so pretty when you're scared, Mama. Too fuckin' pretty, honestly. Those lips, eyes, and this body do something to me. Something so carnal that I don't think I'll ever get enough of you,” he said rubbing his hands up and down my body. Soft, firm squeezes followed his gentle caresses. “Too bad, though. ‘Cause tonight I want you sloppy, disgusting, nasty even,” he said kissing my lips. I let out a small moan as I was being sucked into this fantasy, so quickly and so intensely.
Terry's hands moved down to my thighs and rubbed slowly. His hand slipped between my legs. The tips of his fingers grazed the lips of my pussy. I was beginning to squirm under his touch. “Please, do something. Anything!” I whimpered. Terry's eyes slowly rose to meet mine. He laughed at my begging. “You're gonna wish you neva said that,” he said as he climbed onto the bed. His legs rested on each side of my waist so he was straddling me.
“Look at me,” he said lifting my chin. He pushed the pillows between my back and the headboard before moving up a little more so that he was right in front of me. I was at eye level with his dick print. “I want you paralyzed by the end of the night. I want your throat sore, pussy swollen, and ass stinging. Since you like talkin' back, let's start with that throat,” Terry said unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. Naked and afraid was an understatement for how I was feeling.
He pulled down his pants and boxers altogether so they were resting on his thighs. His dick was already hard as a brick. His enjoyment was evident from the amount of precum leaking from his tip. “Open!” Terry barked. My eyes tracked the movements of his dick, swaying in my face.
I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue while making eye contact with Terry. He placed his hand at the base of his dick and began rubbing it across my tongue. I could feel his precum dripping on my tongue. “You don't even realize what I'm about to do to you,” he said pushing his entire dick into my mouth without warning. I gagged around him. “Unh unh, what you gaggin’ for? You don't remember what you did that night? Why can't you handle this dick now?” Terry said fucking my mouth. My head was pressed against the headboard as he used me. Spit bubbles were forming as drool pooled from the corners of my mouth.
He was using my mouth like a pussy. I would probably be drowning in my saliva if I wasn’t sitting up. I wanted to smile so bad, but his dick was starting to hit the back of my throat with force. I moaned around his dick and slurped up the spit seeping from the corners of my mouth. “Oh, you like this. Don't you, you nasty bitch!” Terry said smiling down at me. His hand snaked around the back of my head, acting as a barrier between my head and the headboard.
Unbeknownst to me, he was locking me into a fixed position. He placed his other hand on the wall above the bed. Using this position as leverage, Terry's thrust grew harder. I couldn't move my head even if I wanted to. THIS WAS THE EPITOME OF FACE FUCKING. I opened my mouth wider and began breathing through my nose. I relaxed my throat as much as possible, but it was getting hard. Terry's head fell back. The grunts and moans he let out were fueling me to keep going. I had never heard Terry's moans become this deep— not even the first night.
Tears were falling from my eyes as I clamped them shut. I was taking this shit like a fuckin' champ. Terry pulled back a little to release his dick from my mouth, causing me to gasp for air. “Spit and breathe,” Terry ordered. I opened my mouth, letting all of his precum and my saliva fall from my mouth. “Good girl. Don't relax, yet. I'm not done wit’ you yet,” he said pushing his dick back in.
Terry was keeping his promise. My throat was getting sorer the more he thrust. That's when I realized what he did. He wasn't giving me a fuckin' breather or break; he was edging himself so that he could keep going. This man really was a monster!
“Oh, you can handle it. Right, Big Mama?” he laughed. The look he was giving me was so devious. He knew what the fuck he was doing. I clenched my fists, tugging at the cuffs. His thrusts slowed, and his hips stiffened. He grabbed the hair at the back of my head. He yanked my head back and pulled out. He palmed his dick, aiming it at my open mouth. His cum spewed out in milky ropes. It landed on my tongue and lower face. “That's it, baby. Nasty just how I like it,” Terry groaned rubbing his dick through his cum and smearing it all over my face.
Terry slid back from me and got off the bed. He stood on the side of the bed and finished undressing himself. I took full advantage of this break to recollect myself. Terry turned back to face me and undid the cuffs. He placed them on the nightstand. Turning away from me, he grabbed my ankle and pulled me to the center of the bed. I gasped in shock. What the hell was he about to do now?
“Turn over and arch!” Terry demanded. I turned over and arched my ass in the air. “I can't wait to see what you look like after this,” he said palming my ass. Getting back onto the bed, Terry positioned himself behind me. I was still a bit confused by Terry's statement. What did he mean by that?
Before I could finish my thoughts, Terry's hand came down on my left ass cheek.
smack
“Shit! No warning, Daddy?” I whimpered. “What for? There's nothing you can't handle, remember?” Terry mocked. He was definitely about to make me eat my words.
smack
“Sorry, two!” I yelled looking back at Terry. He scoffed at me. “Fuck you countin’ for? I'm not stoppin’ ‘til I'm tired,” Terry laughed. I know that fear was etched on my face, but there wasn’t anything I could do but take it.
smack
Over 20 smacks later
Terry was unleashing hell with every hit, causing me to lose count. Honestly, he was right. There was no point in counting. So when I got to 23, I stopped. I was too far gone to remember or focus, and maybe he knew I would be.
My face was in the sheets, and my tears were creating a wet spot beneath me. “You done talkin' shit, or do we need to keep goin’?” he asked. “No, I'm sorry!” I begged. “That's what the fuck I thought!” Terry grunted back.
The entire time he was spanking me his dick was pressed against my ass and pussy. I could feel every movement he made, no matter how small. He was definitely getting off on this, and so was I. As much as I was enjoying this, I wanted Terry inside me. NOW! I needed him. I felt like I was on fire. If you told me I would find pleasure in getting my ass beat, I wouldn't have believed a word you said. This was different— a good different. A different I could get used to.
I was in my head when I felt Terry's hands in my hair again. “Hey, do you hear me talkin' to you?” he snapped. Fuck! I had no clue what this man had said to me. Pleasure had taken over, and I had dissociated for a moment. “Sorry,” I whimpered out. “Breathe. I need you alive. You can die on your own time,” he said. I could literally hear him smiling.
I looked back over my shoulder with my eyebrows knitted together. “Fix your face, or do I need to?” he asked rubbing his hands all over my ass. He drew his hand back. “No!” I screamed, pushing away.“Aww, look at you! Who's scared, now? Huh?” he laughed. I hated it when he laughed like this. It pissed me off to no end. It made me feel like he was laughing at me.
“Shut up and fuck me already!” I yelled. I paused at my own remark. I was so caught up in the thought of him laughing at me that I probably made my biggest mistake of the night. “I mean… I was gonna do that anyway. But now… imma fuck the shit outta you, so don't run,” Terry said grabbing my hips. He reached between us and placed his dick at my entrance.
I knew not to expect him to take it easy. He pushed in without stopping and instantly bottomed out. “Fuck!” I moaned. Every inch of him was buried inside of me. I leaned forward, trying to find relief. “Nah, where you goin’? You told me to shut up and fuck you, right? So, whatchu runnin’ for?” Terry said pulling me back.
His hips went to work. There was no build-up or time to adjust. “Daddy! Oh, shit!” I shrieked. Terry's dick was hitting spots I didn't know I had. My pussy began clenching around him. “Ahh, fuck! You good pussy havin’ bitch!” Terry mumbled. How the fuck was I this close? He had just entered me, and I was already close to cumming. How?!
Terry pounded into me like he was trying to make a second hole. I put my hand behind me, reaching for his stomach. Without a word, he grabbed my hands and pulled them behind my back. If he kept pounding me like this, there was no way I was lasting longer than a few minutes.
I could feel Terry moving behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see him staring at the full-length mirror in the corner. Terry turned back around to see me looking at him. As soon as that smirk returned, I knew he was up to no good.
His arms looped through mine as he lifted me from the bed. He carried me to stand in front of the mirror. “Mama, we need to have a serious talk. You remember what I asked you for earlier?” he asked. “What are you talkin' about, Daddy?” I questioned in confusion. “Having my baby. Remember that?” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Yes, but…” I started to speak before he cut me off. “But nothing. Here's the deal, Mama. You can't cum until you agree to it,” he said reaching between us.
He pushed himself back in, causing us both to moan in unison. “Damn it. That's not fair. Ahh, fuck!” I moaned. “Life isn't fair, baby girl. I told you what I wanted, and you ain't leavin’ this room ‘til I get it,” he said bending me over. He was once again fucking me mercilessly. Bottoming out with every stroke. His thrusts were not letting up. “Look at yourself. Come on, look!” Terry said gripping my hair. He pulled me up so my back was against his chest. Finally slowing down his strokes, he forced me to look in the mirror. “Tell me we wouldn't make some pretty babies? Unh unh, look. Don't close those eyes. Look at yourself, pretty girl. You tellin' me you wouldn't want a little you runnin’ around? Huh?” Terry asked while still slowly fucking me. The pleasure I felt was more intense than anything I had ever experienced. I don't know if it was the mirror or a combination of tonight's activities, but something was making me delirious. Here I was once again succumbing to the sorcery of Terry's dick.
“Talk to me. You want me to call you Big Mama, right? Right? That's what you want, Mama?” Terry asked speaking directly into my ear. The warmth of his breath radiated through my body. It was like I could feel everything— the way every vein in Terry's dick was protruding, the way the muscles in my pussy were contracting, the way Terry's balls smacked against my pussy, and the way I was surrendering to my own pleasure.
“Fuck it! Cum in me, Daddy. I want it!” I yelped. I needed to cum badly, and I could tell Terry needed to, too. His strokes were getting sloppy, and his hips were stuttering. “Yeah, you want Daddy to fill you up?” Terry said kissing my neck. “Yes, please. Cum in me. I wanna… ahhh…. I wanna have your baby!” I yelled. “ Then, take this dick, baby girl. You can do it,” Terry said, grabbing my hips. He reached around and began rubbing my clit while maintaining his pace— slow and deep. “I’m cumming,” I said panting. “I know, baby. I know. So is Daddy,” Terry said tightening his grip on my waist.
With one final thrust, Terry and I both came undone. His arms held me in place as his head fell on my shoulders. His embrace was strong and intentional like he was seeking completion.
Minutes passed as we stood there in bliss, coming down from our highs. Terry's arms slowly loosened from around me. I stumbled a little, almost falling forward. “You good?” Terry asked, turning me around to face him. “Yeah. My legs hurt. Well,… truth be told, all of me hurts,” I giggled. “It's okay. Daddy's gotcha,” Terry said, picking me up bridal style.
He walked back to the bed and gently sat me in the center before lying beside me. “Come here, Mama. I know I chose a crazy moment to bring up babies. But, let me know now. Were you serious?” he questioned. I laid back and put my leg over Terry's waist. “I mean… I don't know. I wanna say no, but deep down, I wanna say yes, too. Maybe?… You don't think it's too soon?” I questioned back, laying my head on his shoulder. “Babygirl, the choice is yours to make. Your body, your choice. If you feel it's too soon, that's fine with me. I can wait,” he said kissing my forehead. “Do you really want to be a father?” I asked him. “I've always wanted to be a dad. I just never felt comfortable enough to do it,” he said looking down at me. “So, what's making you so comfortable now?” I challenged. “You don't get it. Do you?” he asked, smiling down at me. “Get what?” I asked.
Terry lifted me so that I was straddling his waist. “You don't see yourself the way I see you. You exude this aura of love and kindness that draws people to you. Your love language is love itself. And to me, you are love… I hope that makes sense,” Terry said stroking my cheek. “It… it does,” I said as I started to cry. “Oh, no. Mama, I didn't wanna make you cry. I just wanted you to know how much I love you,” Terry said pulling me into a hug. “I love you, too. That was… that was just… a lot… for me,” I stuttered between sobs.
Terry's arm engulfed me deeper into his embrace. This was probably the safest and most loved I had ever felt. So, maybe, just maybe… ONE WON'T HURT.
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veryberryjelly · 1 year ago
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beautiful city
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pairing ; jamie tartt x f!reader
wc ; 740
prompt ; when they accidentally fall asleep on you / in your arms
warnings ; som mild swearing
—----------------------
Amsterdam was the most beautiful city you had ever visited, and the fact that you got to explore it with your boyfriend made it an even more beautiful experience. 
With Jamie's help, you had created nothing but positive memories in Amsterdam, and hoped that you could help erase the horrid memories his dad had forced on him of this wonderful city. 
Because of the lack of a curfew for any of the team, the two of you had unknowingly stayed out all night and had only realised the time when you saw the sun rising over the canal. 
There were no words to describe how wonderful your night had been, but the lack of sleep was catching up on both of you as you finished up packing your bags in the hotel room, ready to return to Richmond in just under an hour. 
Sat on the hotel bed folding up your sweatshirt, you were incredibly tempted to just lean back against the ruffled duvet and pillows and sleep, but just as you started slipping back into the soft fabric, jamie returned from his short errand with two takeaway cups in a holder in one hand and a paper bag in the other. 
When the room door shut behind him you shot up again and speedily slid your jumper into your bag. 
“ hey babe, got us some tea to keep us awake for a little bit…” he explained, setting the cups down on the bedside table along with the bag of pastries. 
“ thanks “ you replied, stifling a yawn as you zipped up your bag and set it down on the floor by the bed. “ maybe it’ll work after i fall asleep “ you muttered, leaning back against the pillows, your eyes falling shut as the urge to sleep overwhelmed you. 
“ no.. shit.. Babe. ya can’t fall asleep. It’s a different time zone and we gotta get down to the coach “ 
You knew that that made a lot of sense but you could sense your body shutting down against the cotton fabric. 
But before you could let yourself completely go, you felt jamie’s arms lifting you to a sitting position, his colder hands resting on your cheeks. 
You forced your eyes open a couple of times to try and wake yourself up and it worked for a few moments, causing a soft smile to spread across jamies lips before he pressed a short kiss to your forehead. 
“ c’mon, i’ll grab the bags, you grab the teas and we’ll head down to the coach.” he proposed and you shook your head in a tired nod before standing from the bed. 
You did as jamie suggested, grabbing the teas and pastries he had collected while he grabbed the bags from the floor. 
You had never been more thankful for automatic checkout. You grabbed the room key and once in the lobby you dropped the key into a box and left the hotel, going straight for the Richmond branded coach in the car park. 
Once jamie dropped the bags under the coach, he took the pastries from you to free up one of your hands and led you onto the vehicle, heading for a seat to stay in for the next number of hours. 
Once sat down against the window, jamie unfolded the tray table in front of him and set everything in front of him so you could get in beside him, your head instantly taking residence on his shoulder. 
A smile settled on his lips, knowing you were too tired to stay up for the entire 8 hour coach journey. He had at least expected you to last until they left but apparently not. 
He gently lifted you to move the armrest between the two and settled you back against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around your body in hopes to prevent you from jostling too much during the ride. 
He knew you weren't going to be able to sleep once you got home but that was something the two of you could deal with later. 
As for right now, he was content to let you use his arm so you could sleep comfortably. 
Before he got too comfortable, he pulled out his earphones from his pocket and slotted them in, finally closing his eyes for the first time since before the match yesterday. 
Even if they didn't win the match, it had been one of the best weekends he had spent in this beautiful city.
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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago
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hey big fan of your writing!! you write jamie so perfectly 💜 pls forgive me if you’ve already written something about this (i haven’t been able to find it if so) but could you write something post-mom city episode with the reader taking care of jamie when he’s hurt after the game and telling him how proud she is?? 🥹 thank you!!
This one’s canon compliant with you don’t want to know me for no reason other than the fact that I like to make my fics match up. It’s fun for me to pretend like I could write something with chapters someday😇 Hope you like it!
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you’re in the kitchen humming
Of course, the one game you can’t go to is the one where Jamie gets injured so badly he has to come home on crutches. He’s not even the one who texts you about it. It’s Ted who writes, Your boy got hurt pretty badly. Might want to come pick him up when we get back.
So now you’re headed to AFC Richmond because Jamie only just let you know they’re back. 
we’re in the treatment room, he says, and you don’t even take a moment to ask who we is.
It’s Roy and Keeley, and you aren’t a little bit surprised. They’re been passing around a bottle and laughing, so obviously Jamie can’t be hurt that badly. His right foot is stuck in a bucket of ice, so you get him up, say goodnight to Roy and Keeley, and help him tipsily hop to your car. Jamie chatters on about the game the whole ride home, only leaving room for you to interject the occasional “mhm,” or “I’m so proud of you!”
It’s somewhat of a chore to get him out of the car, mostly because he’s laughing so hard at the sheer absurdity of the situation, humor exaggerated by the champagne. 
You finally maneuver him onto the couch and get him laid down, leg elevated. He’s still giggling.
You flip on the kitchen light to make him some food. You wonder briefly how many times you’ve done this: put Jamie on the couch, made him food, and let him take you to bed. It’s been a few years’ worth.
You’re at the stove humming softly, when you hear a tap thump, tap thump as Jamie hobbles over to wrap his arms around you from behind.
“Oi, you need to be lying down, mister,” you scold.
Jamie just presses his face into the crook of your neck.
“Can’t get comfortable. I’m still in my kit and I need help getting it off.”
His words are laced with a suggestive tone, made more apparent by the fact that his hands are no longer on your waist per se, but more under your waistband.
You put down the spatula and turn off the stove.
“Jamie Tartt,” you say in a tone that means listen the fuck up, “if you want even half a chance of getting in my pants tonight, you’ll go back to the couch and put ice on your ankle.”
His hands slip away and he groans, but complies. You shake your head and slide the eggs onto a plate.
You hate eggs, but they’re Jamie’s go-to post-match food. You asked him why once, and he said something about his mum and it being the only thing she could cook without burning.
So you suck it up and make him scrambled eggs every time he comes home from a game, whether home or away. Tonight, you bring him his plate on the couch, sit next to him, and hold it for him to eat.
You say softly, “I’m really proud of you, Jaim,” as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “Didn’t really get a chance to say it, but I am. You absolutely smashed it today.”
Jamie smirks. “I got your emojis,” he says. “Had twenty-one missed texts from you, none of ‘em containing a single word.” He puts down his fork and reaches into a pocket for his phone. “Got a fuck-ton of hearts, some fireworks, and one squirrel.”
You blush. Ah yes. The squirrel.
“Don’t think I can make it up the stairs,” he laments. “Might just have to stay on the couch all night. Sad. Alone. Fucking horny.”
You roll your eyes and flick his arm with your free hand. “You done eating? Because you need a shower. You smell, and I’m not fucking you until you’re clean.”
Jamie grins. “But you are going to fuck me.”
You shake your head. Yes, you are. With a goal like that, how could you not? Plus his foot’s injured, and he must be in pain. He could use a good distraction.
Jamie’s mind has to be going in a similar direction because he asks, “You gonna shower with me? I hate showering alone.”
“Obviously,” you respond. “You can barely stand on your own and you’re going to need help with your hair.”
This shower is a lot less sexy than some might imagine. Jamie is trying to keep his balance without putting weight on his foot, but it’s difficult because it’s slippery. You’ve made it through most of his shower routine (and yours too) but now you’re at the final step. Conditioner. 
You grab the bottle and Jamie frowns. “You remember how much to use?”
You nod, but he’s not convinced. “Let me put it on your hand,” he says, grabbing the bottle and forgetting to be careful of his ankle. He puts too much weight on it and it gives out with a “fuck,” leaving Jamie’s lips. 
He’s slipping and trying to grab onto something and that something is you so now you’re both tangled on the floor of the shower, water running in your faces and Jamie grimacing from pain.
You do manage to get him back up and condition his hair to his satisfaction (“It’s a delicate balance, babe,”) but the slip was not good for Jamie’s ankle. You have to go back downstairs for more ice, so now he’s lying flat on his back on the bed, towel wrapped precariously loose around his waist. When you’re satisfied that the ice is secure and Jamie’s foot is at a good angle, you flop down in the bed next to him. You’re still in your towel, too.
“I can’t stop thinking about that kick,” you say.
Jamie asks, “Which one? I did a lot of those,” and you laugh.
“The one to block Man City’s goal. The one where you landed wrong. It was probably the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I’m so, so proud of you. I just can’t get over the fact that you can do all that and then you come home to me. It boggles my mind.”
Jamie’s blowing tickly breaths in your ear to make you shiver. “I was pretty sexy, weren’t I?”
You laugh again. “Everything’s always about being sexy with you, isn’t it? Sure, I’ll admit you were sexy. But you were also admirable and selfless and brave and amazing. You can’t sell yourself short.”
Jamie’s silent for a moment, and you think he’s fallen asleep. You look over to see him staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes.
You ask, “Are you crying?” and the words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s saying fuck no but you know he means fuck yes so you roll over to kiss him, because sometimes it’s better to leave some things unsaid. He’s pretty great, and you’re glad you’re the one who gets to tell him.
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