#she was a couple years older than jamie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heyidkyay · 5 months

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

Masterlist

“I said no.”

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

“Give me a reason at least?"

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

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

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

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

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

“One thing after another with you.”

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

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

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

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

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

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

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

“Stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anyone here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays.

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

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

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

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

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

Jamie had somehow managed it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was it, he supposed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can just hang your-”

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

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

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

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

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

God, it was so fucking strained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He found himself smiling at the thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Said what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.” He answered.

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

“I know.”

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

"Why didn't you tell me?"

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

82 notes · View notes

kanerlove88 · 6 months

Text

I am always thinking about post-canon RoyJamie. Roy moves out of his own way. All that work they put into becoming better people and becoming friends works out so well. They’re beautiful together, Roy and Jamie. Incredibly codependent and god, they’ll live under each other’s skin if they could but boy do they make it work. It baffles everyone around them but they don’t even realise it’s not normal to spend that much time around your partner. Freak4freak but very much in love about it.

They’re not perfect of course. They fight like any couple would. Probably more than most couple even. Neither of them are easy individuals. They both learned to hurt each other long before they ever fell in love and it shows sometimes. But they learn to give each other space, to take a breather when they’re furious. This understanding comes with time and a lot of therapy of course. They weren’t always so good at that but they learn to be patient with each other.

Even if talking about feelings always feels like pulling teeth, they force themselves to do it. It’ll never come naturally to them but it does become easier over time.

Anything they can’t solve themselves, they go to therapy for. They go to couples therapy because you don’t only need help when your relationship is falling apart. You’re gonna need help along the way and they know not to take that for granted. Both of them still see Dr Sharon individually too. They’re better off for it.

Jamie loves Phoebe. They get along like house on fire and it makes Roy so happy, to see his favourite people get along this way. It doesn’t take long before Jamie becomes Uncle Jamie. The next Uncle’s Day, Phoebe has two Uncles to celebrate and she tackles it with gusto. Jamie definitely will cry a little about it. That boy staring at his Roy Kent poster in his childhood bedroom could have never known that one day he’ll have all the love he could have ever asked for and it’d come from Roy Kent himself.

They’re it for each other, that much they both know. Roy worries, of course he worries. A 15 year age gap looks like a lot when you’re 40 and your partner is 25. Worries he’s too old for Jamie, that he’ll hold him back. He’s 40 and all he wants to do is stay at home and read a book cuddled up with Jamie but would Jamie want that too or would he be giving up nights out at clubs for him?

Jamie, who used to wake up at 4am to train with Roy. Jamie, who is very much aware of the age gap and has definitely thought about what it’ll be like as they both grow older. Jamie who would live in Roy’s ribcage if he could. Jamie who will choose Roy no matter what. Roy will understand soon enough. And what do you know? A 15 year age gap doesn’t look too bad when you’re 85 and your partner is 70.

Their wedding is beautiful. 2 years, maybe 3 years after getting together. Roy proposed but Jamie had a ring too. When they get married, every greyhound who has ever played under Ted will descend onto London, Ted included. It began with Roy and Jamie in the locker room, touching foreheads in anger and it ends with Roy and Jamie at the altar, touching foreheads, so in love with each other. Husbands. What a beautiful life they will live together.

#I’m very shy about putting this in the ship tag #this is just a word vomit about all of my post canon RJ feels #probably wildly OOC #do not care #they’re still freaks4freaks #but they’re very soft too #royjamie

67 notes · View notes

its-time-to-write · 1 year

Note

Hello! I absolutely love your work. You’re a fantastic writer. Is it possible for you to do something based a bit off of the song London Boy by Taylor Swift? If not I understand. I just feel there’s some cool way to tie it with Jamie Tartt. Sorry if it’s a bit of a generic request

ALRIGHTY gotta preface this, I actually hate this song 😂 Lyrics aren’t bad, but the like accent thing she does makes me die a little bit. BUT. I saw what you were going for (I think)! So here it is, I suffered through listening to this song bc you asked for a fic and I am nothing if not eager to please.

This is also a response to two other requests. So if that was you, ✌️😗 y’all were on the same page, congratulations. This is also my first song-based fic, although all of my works are (very, very loosely) based on songs. That’s why they have such insane titles😅 ANYWAY that’s enough talking from me. Enjoy!

i fancy you

i love my hometown as much as Motown, i love So-Cal

Richmond in London is very different from your hometown in Southern California. It’s colder, for one. And older. Things in California don’t have the same extended history as they do in England. You’re here visiting family for a couple months, although your cousins are trying to convince you to stay longer.

“What do you really have waiting for you in California?” Holland asks.

“Uh, the beach. Sun. Great Mexican food.” you respond.

Holland isn’t buying it. “When else are you going to be able to live here? We can help you get a job and all that, not a huge problem.”

Holland is very convincing. You decide to stay for a year, single year, and see what happens.

Holland is four years older than you, and has always been the cousin you’re closest to. You’ve had a long-standing bond since being the two eldest sisters in your family. Holland takes you to clubs and introduces you to her friends, including a Miss Keeley Jones who thinks you are “abso-fuckin-lutely adorable.”

“You have to bring her to a Richmond match, babes,” Keeley says. “Lots of fit footballers.” She winks.

You ask Keeley of she’s dating a footballer.

“Oh god no,” she shudders. “A coach.”

You don’t really see the difference.

saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent

It was a good match, even you can tell. The Richmond team played seamlessly, passing the ball back and forth without letting the other team even touch it. Their conductor of sorts, the one mediating the passes, was crazy. He never seemed to get tired, anticipating his teammates’ moves and those of the opposing team. It seemed like he was always five steps ahead of everyone. Holland notices you watching him and pokes Keeley.

“You like Jamie?” Keeley laughs. “Makes sense. Anyone with eyes likes him. He’s right fit, too. Good in bed, shit with feelings. Well, used to be. Still fucking cocky.”

That’s interesting. “You’ve been with him?” you ask.

Keeley gives you a 50/50 hand motion. “Sort of. Don’t really count it, do I? Was with him at his fucking worst. That’s why Roy fucking hates him.”

“He’s much better now,” Holland chimes in. “Something happened last season and he stopped being such a dick.”

“Holland!” you reproach, laughing. “That’s not nice!”

She and Keeley shrug. “It’s true though, innit?”

You don’t know if it is, because when you first see Jamie up close in the club later that night, he seems perfectly fine. You see a flash of a smile, a dimple, then he says something (you don’t know what) but his accent is… something else. It’s not like Holland’s, or any of your family, but you know enough to pinpoint it to Manchester.

“The accent got you, didn’t it?” says a voice near your ear and you yelp as Holland slides her arm around your shoulder.

“Gets the best of us,” says Keeley, grabbing your hand. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

She drags you over despite your protests.

he likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, ‘darling i fancy you’

Regular dinner dates are scary, but dinner dates with a Premier League footballer are downright terrifying.

You made Holland help you figure out what to wear, and when she showed up at your aunt’s house she had Keeley in tow.

“Heard you’re in need of a bit of a makeover,” she grins. “Lucky for you, that’s my specialty.”

Keeley and Holland have brought some of Holland’s dresses and you’re in a dark green one that “does fucking wonders for your hair, babe.”

Keeley did your makeup while Holland curled your hair and just like that, you’re ready to go.

You groan, “God, I fucking hate first dates,” while shaking out your arms.

“It’ll be fine,” Holland promises, and she’s right.

It’s more than fine. It’s fucking fantastic.

“I like your smile,” Jamie says. “Fuckin’ American, it is.”

You laugh. “What does that even mean?”

Jamie shrugs. “It’s bigger. Brits are more reserved. Like Roy. You met Roy yet? Biggest fucking twat I ever saw,” but he says it with such affection that you’re sure he means something else.

His eyes are electric, blue and dazzling. They betray his every thought and feeling and right now you feel like if you hold his gaze any longer you’re going to say something completely stupid.

Turns out your not the one to say something stupid; he is.

You’re walking back to his car, holding hands and swinging them in between you when he stops and says, “Darling, I fancy you.”

You grin and he returns it. He asks, “Was that British enough for you? Feel like you got the whole experience?”

“Definitely,” you say. “Was I American enough for you?”

“Dunno,” he replies, “Got to test one more thing.”

His lips are very soft on yours.

met all of his best mates, so i guess all the rumors are true

“This is Isaac, Colin, Dani, and Sam.”

Jamie is introducing you to some of his team. You’ve been dating for a month now, and your first picture together just popped up in the papers the night before.

The boys of AFC Richmond were pretty sure Jamie was seeing someone, but they didn’t know who it was. Jamie had set up this dinner thing a while ago, it just so happened that the tabloids got to you first.

It’s not even that great a picture honestly, but you’d been around Nelson Road enough that the boys were able to recognize you.

It’s a little unnerving to meet them, what with Isaac’s intense stare and Dani’s wide, wide smile. You’re grateful Colin and Sam are acting normal.

“We have an American coach,” Colin says in an attempt to break the ice. It does, because you’re all laughing at the absurdity of his attempt.

“We have heard very much about you,” Dani says and you wonder if he ever stops smiling. It feels so weird and so normal to be at Jamie’s house with a pile of food and FIFA queued up on the TV, ready to go. You figure that if you’re meeting his friends, Jamie must be at least a little serious. He finds your hand and squeezes it under the table as Isaac cracks his first smile of the night. It’s weird dating a footballer, but you think you can get used to it.

babes, don’t threaten me with a good time

Jamie’s house is the largest you’ve ever been in, and it used to be strange that it was only just the two of you, clattering around that big home.

It’s a cool night after a warm day so you both decided to lay in his backyard under the stars.

It feels so much like something you’d do as a teenager, and you tell Jamie as much.

“Used to sneak on me mum’s roof,” he tells you. “Didn’t even do dumb shit, I’d just go to look.”

You lay there in silence for a few moments until you feel something tickle your side.

“Jamie!” you shriek.

“I didn’t do nothing!” he protests. “Must’ve been a bug.”

You don’t believe him, but you don’t push it until you feel another tickle.

“Babe!”

“Babe, it weren’t me, I swear,” he says and you really don’t believe him, especially when he tickles you again less than a minute later.

You laugh. “Fuck you, Jamie Tartt.”

He smirks. “Babe, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Hm, maybe I want a good time.”

Jamie’s grin widens and he sits up. “You know where the bedroom is, love.”

you know i love a London boy

“I don’t fucking get it,” Jamie says. You shrug.

“I literally don’t either,” you say. Your dad leans over to Jamie. “So basically…” he begins.

He’s halfway through his explanation when Jamie pokes you. “Babe,” he says, “can we switch seats so I can hear your dad better?” You chuckle then wiggle your way into Jamie’s seat while he gets into yours.

“Why the fuck is it called ‘football’ if it’s with their hands?” Jamie asks.

Your dad shrugs. “Not a clue, son, not a clue.”

The game progresses and one of the teams scores a touchdown.

“Hold the fuck up,” Jamie says. “Why did their score change that much?”

“I know this one!” you exclaim. “Different types of goals get different points. And there’s something called a lateral which has to do with moving backward I think?”

You dad just shakes his head with a grin and doesn’t attempt to clarify.

Your dad spends the second half explaining everything to a very focused Jamie, and he asks questions the entire car ride home. It’s funny have Jamie here in America, staying at your parents house and seeing where you grew up.

When you’re finally back home and in bed, you pull him as close as you can and whisper, “I love you very, very much. You know that, right?”

You can feel Jamie smile against your hair. “I love you too, very fucking much.”

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

324 notes · View notes

suckerforcate · 2 years

Note

Hi!! I wanted to request something for Brienne. I was gonna try and write it since a friend and I have been talking about it, but I’m simply not as good as you 🥹

Basically a love triangle with reader, Brienne, and Jaime. Reader has feelings for Brienne but everyone has been pointing out how Jaime and Brienne would be a good couple so reader just distances themselves and Brienne notices, thinking that reader is done putting up with her and doesn’t really like her so she confronts them and leads to reader confessing and stuff. And Brienne confesses too.

Thanks!

You, not him

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Reader

Word Count: 1617

Warning: Angst, mention of vomiting,

A/n: I didn't want to make Reader too old, as I thought it would be quite unrealistic for her to still be unmarried then. Hence the age gap. Hope that is okay. I thought of Reader as beginning to mid twenty, as Brienne is about end of thiry. I really hope you like what I did with your request!! I really liked writing it.

When Brienne had come back, you had been so happy. You hadn't seen her for such a long time, and you really wanted to tell her everything that had happened. But when she had arrived she hadn't been alone. Jamie Lannister sat on a horse just behind her. You didn't like him, he always had this arrogant, smug look. Like he was better than all the rest. So your initial thought was that Brienne held him captive, but he walked around freely and Brienne held actual conversations with him.

It had been about two weeks since they had arrived, and you were fed up with the Kingslayer. It was enough. Honestly, since they arrived you couldn't talk to Brienne without him following her like a stray puppy. And even though he seemed to like her, way too much to your liking, he still made cruel jokes about her. Couldn't he decide if he liked her or not?!

At the beginning, you thought as long as it's one-sided it doesn't matter. But after a few more weeks you couldn't go anywhere without hearing people talk about the two of them.

"They make such a nice pair, don't they?"

"Oh yes, have you seen the way they look at each other?"

Others weren't so polite about it.

"Honestly, I think she just wants to fuck him. And he wouldn't be averse either, I think." They laughed dirty and left. You just stood there, tears in your eyes.

In the past week you hadn't talked so much with Brienne, because you had to help your mother a lot. You guessed that week was enough for their relationship to take a new turn.

Actually you had looked forward to this evening as Brienne wanted to teach you some sword-fighting. You thought you could finally spend some time together. Alone. Like you always used to. But considering the newest information, you really didn't feel like going.

Sitting on you bed that evening, all you could do was cry. You had always feared that she would come back one day. In love. With a partner. But the cruel reality of it hit you stronger than anticipated.

You felt so empty and yet so full of emotions. Full of sadness and rage.

Dinner hadn't been the best idea. You realised that as you felt it coming up again. Cowering over the toilet, still crying, you felt as pathetic as probably possible.

Why were you like this? All your friends always told you about how they fell in love with a cute, rich, honourable prince. How they had their happy life. The life that was promised to all of you, from childhood on.

But you? Of course, you had to be different. Falling in love with a woman about fifteen years older than you, way out of your reach and in love with someone else. Stupid you.

----------------

The next days to weeks you avoided Brienne. It hurt way too much and every time you saw her together with Jamie you felt tears prick in your eyes. In addition to that you thought if you avoided her maybe it would be easier for you to forget about her. You wanted to be happy for her so bad. But you just couldn't. Whatever you did, you cried yourself to sleep. Either because you missed her, because you had seen her with Jamie or because you had heard people talk about them again. Even your own mother talked about them, that definitely didn't make it easier at all.

-----------------

You knew the avoiding part wouldn't work forever and sooner or later you needed to talk to her. But that day came sooner rather than later. And you definitely weren't prepared for it, you were far too in love with her.

For the first time in weeks you dared to go out, into the garden. The garden had always been the place where you and Brienne could talk for hours. So you should have known that you would meet her there.

You were reading a book when you felt someone standing next to you. You looked up, right into Brienne's eyes. Your body visible tensed and you directly looked away. Still Brienne sat down. You felt her leg touch yours as the bench wasn't very big.

"I can't shake the feeling, that you have been avoiding me, my lady. I had rather looked forward to our time together when I had come back. But it seems you haven't." You felt a wave if sadness rush over you. You had never wanted to hurt Brienne. But you could endure it, spending time with her.

You couldn't say anything, your mouth opened a few times but no words came out. For Brienne that was a clear answer.

"I thought so. I understand if you don't want to spend time with me. I had always feared that one day you would see me for what I really am. That you would see me the way the rest sees me. I assume you are just too polite to tell me. But I think this is answer enough. Still I want to say, I enjoyed the time we had together and if you ever change your mind, I will be there." She wanted to stand up and leave. You panicked, you still hadn't said a word, but you didn't want her to leave thinking what she just said was the truth. You grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. She turned her head, and you hoped she knew you well enough to understand the look in your eyes. She did. She sat down again.

Still holding her wrist you saw tears fall down on your skirt and looking at Brienne's dry face, you realised they were yours. Brienne saw them too. She pulled you into her side and let you cry, not questioning you, not judging you.

Ad you felt your tears dry you pulled back and turned around, so you could look her in the eyes.

"Please, Brienne never think that what you said is true. That's not the reason I'm avoiding you." She smiled at you relief washing over her face.

"But, what's the reason then? Please tell me, my lady. You can talk to me." You knew that. In fact, you had always talked to her, when you had problems. For the last years she had always been there, and you felt a whole in your life where she used to be. You needed her. And in that moment you decided that even if it hurts you, you need to be with her. You would be strong. Because not having her at all was just worse.

"I don't know how to tell you. I really wanted to be happy for you. It's hard, I can't bear seeing you together. But I will learn to, I will be strong for the both of us. Because I need you in my life. Even if it's just as a friend." With that you looked at her and all you saw was... confusion. Pure and utter confusion.

"I'm sorry, my lady. But I really don't understand what you are talking about."

"I'm talking about you and Jamie. And that I love you. I have loved you since I first laid my eyes on you and not being able to ever have you breaks my heart. But it's okay, if you're happy. Which it seems you are." At that Brienne laughed. She really laughed, how could she. What you had just told her wasn't funny. Still she laughed, a real and deep laugh. A relieved laugh. She had really been concerned and was happy that the "problem" was something so stupid.

"Oh, (Y/n), love. Jamie and I are not involved. Absolutely not. He's just following me around like a chicken. It's quite annoying actually. I can't believe you thought that. I was desperately trying to leave him and spend my time with you. But you avoided me, so I was stuck with him." Your eyes widened.

"But everyone was talking about you two. I- even my mother."

"Since when is the castle-gossip something you believe in?" She was right. You had always been the one to not believe it and to question every rumour you heard.

"I'm so stupid. Honestly I can't believe myself." You laughed, happy for the first time in weeks. But as you looked at Brienne you saw concern, no insecurity? You stopped laughing.

"What's wrong?" You took her hands in your and gently stroked over the back of them up to her pulse point.

"Did you mean it? What you said, that you love me?"

You warmly smiled at her.

"Of course I did, what do you think why I was so upset about you and Jamie. I was jealous and scared that I'd lose you.

"You will never lose me. For I love you too, (Y/n) (y/l/n)." You smiled at her and cupped her face in your hands. She blushed under your touch but still leaned down to catch your lips in a kiss.

It was gentle and careful and first. You assumed it was not just your first but also her first kiss. But that carefulness was overcome fast, when she grabbed your hips and pulled you onto her lap. You threw your legs around her and your hands travelled to her neck and up into her hair. She pulled you even closer at that and let out a slight moan. You thought it was cute, but she stopped in her tracks and blushed. She hid her red face in the crook of your neck out of embarrassment as you laughed at her shyness and stroked over her hair. Everything was alright now. You were happy again.

#brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #brienne x reader #game of thrones #gwendoline christie #gwendoline christie x reader #wlw #jamie lannister

432 notes · View notes

tngrace · 7 months

Text

Prologue

And here we go finally! Part 1 of Maverick Chronicles. Will update on Fridays. Enjoy!

Tumbler: Masterlist: Main, Mav Chronicles ; A03

Even at five, Pete knew his world was changing. The men on the porch caught his mom when she went down, but he’s not sure he’ll ever forget her cries. She’d always been a little distant when his dad was away, but when his dad never came back, he lost his mom as well. She stayed in her room, only emerging to get another drink and restart the song. He hated that song. He’s not surprised when he comes home from school one day a year and half later to find officers at his house and his mom is gone. He doesn’t cry; he lost his mom a long time ago.

None of his relatives wanted him; he was a young child who had already been through too much. He was already acting out at school, getting into trouble, but no one took the time to see that he just needed a little attention, a little love. When none of his aunts would take him, he was placed in the system; a system that wasn’t very kind to him. A system that reinforced his beliefs that no one would want him, that he was inherently bad, that he deserved all the pain and heartache he received. But what he didn’t know was that someone was fighting for him; someone, two someones, wanted him very much.

When he was eight and a half, Mike and Carrie started to come visit. He vaguely remembers Mike working with his dad, but it takes a couple of visits before he warms up to them. The social worker is surprised with how well-behaved and nice Pete is when he is with Mike and Carrie. But they talk to him, they listen, they give him attention and they’re nice to him. He likes them, and he really likes when Mike tells him stories about his dad. He trusts them, and he’s always so sad when they leave. He doesn’t show it, showing his tears are a weakness in his current foster father’s eyes, but he always cries for a solid hour when Mike and Carrie leave. He’s always so surprised when they come back too.

On their fifth visit they bring their daughters Catherine and Jamie with them. Cat’s three years older than him, but she plays with him on each visit, and she seems nice. Jamie is almost one, and she loves using Pete to pull up on. She grins at him every time she does it, and Pete can’t help but smile at her. After their tenth visit, his social worker asks if he’d like to go live with them. He doesn’t believe it, doesn’t believe they could want him full time, but he’s honest and says yes. A week later they’re in front of a judge, and he has to answer a bunch of questions honestly. When it’s over, Carrie pulls him into a hug that’s so tight, he’s sure he’s going to snap in half. “Want to go get your stuff kiddo?” Mike asks.

“I’ve got it,” he says nodding to the backpack that’s beside him.

He sees Mike and Carrie share a look, and he’s afraid he’s already messed up.

“Tomorrow we’ll go shopping; or maybe when we’re back home.”

“I’m fine,” Pete promises. He has all his important mementos and pictures in his backpack with two pairs of jeans and shirts.

Mike gently squeezes his shoulder, but he agrees with Carrie. “Let’s get back to the room, get some food, and book the tickets home.”

It’s a whirlwind after that, and before Pete knows it, he has his own room in a house on the beach in California. His room is between the girls, and they let him decorate it anyway he wants. It takes several months of being there, probably closer to a year if he’s being honest, before he relaxes into the fact that his room isn’t going anywhere. He starts putting his pictures out on the dresser. There’s the one of him and his dad with his dad’s plane in the background. Then there’s the one picture of the three of them where they were happy. When he comes home from school one day, he finds them in a frame next to his bed and he tries not to cry. He finds Carrie in the kitchen cooking; “Thank you,” he tells her quietly from the doorway.

“For what sweetheart?”

“Putting my pictures in a frame. I… I was always afraid they’d get ruined and I’d lose them.”

Carrie kneels down for a hug, but she always waits for him to come to her. Pete runs into her arms, clinging tight.

“You’ll never have to worry about losing them again Pete. We can even make some copies just in case, if you want.”

Pete nods against her shoulder, as he buries his face in her neck. “Thank you mama,” he whispers.

It’s the first time he has called her that, even though both she and Mike have told him they would be more than happy with whatever he called them, but that it was ok to think of them as mom and dad now. She hugs him tighter trying not to cry, and that is how Mike finds them after getting Cat started on her homework and getting some hugs from his two year old.

“Everything ok?” he asks quietly, so as not to startle Pete.

“Yea…. Yea. Everything is perfect,” Carrie gets out. Thankfully, Pete doesn’t notice the tears in her voice, but Mike does. He cocks his eyebrow at her, and she gives him a watery smile.

Even though he’s almost ten now, Carrie picks him up and holds him. Mike walks closer and wraps his arms around them both. Pete lets out a shuddering breath as he clings to Carrie tighter. He feels safe; he feels loved, and he has for the last year.

After a few minutes, Pete wiggles down, giving them a blinding smile before he’s off to do his own homework with Cat while Jamie runs around their feet.

“What happened?” Mike asks once Pete is gone and Carrie falls into his arms letting the tears fall.

“He thanked me for the picture frame and called me mama.”

Mike’s arms tighten around her and he smiles. It took a little longer than they expected, but Pete was finally settled; he was home.

It takes another year before he calls Mike “dad.” Pete had been sick, and Carrie couldn’t get out of work for the day. Even though it was generally frowned upon, Mike had brought him to base to rest in his office while he had class. He didn’t have any hops that day, so he figured it would be fine. When Mike comes back from class, Pete is curled on the couch in Mike’s sweatshirt, looking awful.

“Alright kiddo, ready to go home?” Mike asks, brushing the hair off his forehead.

Pete is burning up, so Mike gets him some more meds and then helps him up. It’s a struggle to get Pete to take them, but he finally manages to get them down, and he rests his head against Mike’s abdomen where he’s standing in front of Pete. His fingers are brushing through Pete’s hair in the way that always calms him, and Pete lets out a shuddering breath. “Don’t feel good, Dad,” he whines.

Mike has to force himself not to react and freak Pete out, but he feels the lump in his throat all the same. “I know bud. Let’s get you home and into bed. How’s that sound?”

“Will you stay?” Pete whispers.

“As long as you want,” Mike promises. He helps Pete up, and gives him his aviators to hide behind even though they’re way too big on the kid, and then leads him out of the office. Once home, Pete curls into his side in bed and promptly falls asleep. That’s how Carrie finds them once she gets home.

At sixteen, Pete starts asking Mike questions about the Academy and joining the Navy. He wanted to be a pilot just like both his dads. Mike was more than pleased to answer any and all of Pete’s questions, and he snuck him on base over summer break more than he probably should’ve. But Pete had him wrapped around his little finger since the day he was born. Mike worked for those two years to get the mission he’d flown with Duke declassified so the truth could be revealed, but it was to no avail. He knew the rumors that swirled around the Navy, and he knew Pete was going to have a hard go at it, but he was still surprised when the rejection letter came. To say Pete was heartbroken was an understatement, and when he asked Mike why he thought he didn’t get in, Mike told him the truth as much as it killed him. Mike watched his carefree teenager transform before his eyes. It was the same stubbornness and determination he’d seen in his long deceased wingman that shown in his kids eyes now, and he knew nothing would stop Pete from finding a way.

What did surprise him was Pete wanting to cut off all contact with them. Pete thought he was protecting Mike and explained it as such. Carrie was able to convince Pete that he was still able to write to her or the girls so they didn’t lose full contact with him, and Mike was relieved. He wasn’t ready to let his kid go just yet. Pete fast tracked through college, and before Mike knew it, his kid was in flight school. It was there that he met Nick and Carole, who took him into their little family like it was nothing. Mike was glad to see him gaining friends and support outside of them, and he hoped it would be a good thing for Pete. Nick and Pete seemed to click so well, and Mike wasn’t all that surprised when he’d heard they were a pilot/RIO pair. He even understood when Pete changed his emergency contacts to Nick and Carole, even if it broke Carrie’s heart just a bit.

Out of flight school, they had a brief station at Pensacola, and it was there that Pete met Tom Kazansky. He’d mostly kept his sexuality to himself as a teenager, but his older sister knew he tended to favor males. He had a suspicion that Mike and Carrie knew as well, but they’d never said anything, so he didn’t either. While it could get him a dishonorable discharge if anyone in the Navy found out, Pete made sure to always be discrete. Hence why Nick didn’t even know. But one look at Tom Kazansky, and Pete knew he had to have him. It took a couple of weeks and several, several, nights at a bar and nightclub, but Pete finally succeeded and got his man. It was one of the hottest and greatest nights of his life if he’s being honest, but the next day, he and Nick were restationed, leaving Tom behind.

In between deployments, he would sometimes sneak home for a short visit; Carrie insisting on seeing him alive with her own eyes. It always felt great coming home, but he was always worried his connection to them would be discovered and he’d ruin Mike’s career. It was the last thing he wanted, knowing how hard his dad had worked for that top position at Top Gun, so he spent a lot of his leaves on his own or with Nick and Carole. They’d done three years of random length deployments, Mav making a name for himself in the Navy and trying to out fly Duke’s ghost, before they were sent to Top Gun. It felt odd knowing he’d actually been the second choice, and if it hadn’t been for Cougar turning in his wings, he’d still be waiting for his chance. But Mav was beyond ecstatic to be going home, and to finally be able to fly with his dad.

#my writing #Maverick Chronicles #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #mike viper metcalf #carrie metcalf #icemav #icemav fic #top gun #tg #top gun fic #tg fic

36 notes · View notes

variousqueerthings · 1 year

Text

if one wants to read most of the (primary-tertiary) team members + affiliates as queer/queer adjacent, which I do for the heck of it:

obviously colin and trent are gay. will's just had his first threesome. keeley's been openly bi for awhile

ted's figuring himself out later in life, after thinking he was straight for a long time and now firmly divorced. higgins surprises everyone by casually mentioning he had a thing with a guy way back before he got married and of course his wife knows. jamie's been feeling more confident as a bisexual man (did keeley know is the question) once his dad is out of the picture. roy's been pushing that shit down for years, because he's slightly older than the rest of the players and his time was way more mired in homophobia than even today

isaac's questioning some things, mainly if all this dating and sex is really as interesting as the football. bumbercatch is unclear, since he just goes on a rant about how current-day sexuality and gender are constructs that need to be torn down and rebuilt in order to fight capitalist colonialist fascism. zoreaux/van damme mostly agrees with bumbercatch and high-fives him. montlaur says that he doesn't discriminate, because sex is a beautiful thing with any model. dani rojas semi-misunderstands montlaur and agrees with a "love is love, no matter who it is with" and he definitely had an intense homoerotic friendship in mexico (he relates to almodóvar films)

the rest of the team for the most part are unclear, due to the fact that most of them decide to give their queer credentials at the exact same time in response to colin's coming out, but the cacophony is cheerful

which leaves beard, rebecca, nate, and sam. I kind of like the idea of beard being someone who's confidently straight, because he went out and gave sex with men a go. he's also got that cis+ thing going for him, in that once he learned about trans theory he read all the books and was like. "hmm" for a couple of days, before going "yeah, bein a dude is good for me." rebecca is mostly straight, but if the right girl came along (the right girl would be butch + in her 40s-60s, because really what she's into is competency and a certain kind of masculinity) + she and sassy used to casually make out sometimes. nate is a flipping mess in terms of self-awareness, he could go any way at this point in his life. has he stared at a footballer for longer than is considered "strictly chill"? maybe, but he'll never tell

sam is straight, but he's the one who gets everyone's shit together and organises the pride work they do, because he's also the guy who inspires the rest of the team to get fucking organised (next to jamie)

jan maas is also straight. maybe. who knows - the rest of the team think, considering what was experienced in amsterdam - if any dutch people are straight...

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #colin hughes #trent crimm #roy kent #sam obisanya #isaac mcadoo #richard montlaur #dani rojas #thierry zoreaux #moe bumbercatch #will kitman #keeley jones #leslie higgins #jan maas #nathan shelley #rebecca welton #coach beard

158 notes · View notes

liamlawsonlesbian · 3 months

Note

don't mean to start a fight here.... but Sophia Floersch has had some Thing To Say about women's series and although blunt they're mostly right. i like F1 Academy! i like that it can inspire young girls to take up karting and can increase visibility helping with sponsorships (which, imo, aside from superlicense points, is the main point of the series that is hugely underestimated)

but. in racing terms, it has a lot of the same problems as w series, where it didn't know what it wanted to be. the cars are roughly f4-equivalent, so it should be a feeder to FRECA or F3, but these series also had alice powell (2022 - 29y.o.) and reema juffali (2024 - 32y.o.) racing against teenagers.

sophia floersch went through the meat grinder and respect to her for it. i hope f1 academy makes that transition easier. like, i know that jamie chadwick recently won a race in indycar NXT. but for quite a few years, f1 academy is going to be in a weird limbo where it's neither effective feeder series nor totally separate in its own right. e.g. the 2023 champion martia garcia (who has just joined FRECA with a funded seat!) is like 5 years older than her competitors.

i hope this whole post doesn't come across as anti-woman because i really am rooting for f1 and hope it continues and gets the proper time to develop, just at the moment i just don't think the state of motorsports is there yet and so i dont blame sophia floersch for being sceptical about its impact

Hi anon!! You definitely don’t come across as anti-woman, or aggressive! And honestly I probably could’ve been more clear that I do actually think that Sophia has some good points. I definitely agree with you that f1 academy has some flaws as a feeder series, but the visibility/funding is very important for the long-term build up of women in motorsport, I think, and Susie has done a great job of that. Also, I think that as f1 fans we can have sort of a narrow focus on f1 as the goal, but anything that allows women to have more options in racing as a career is a good step. I think one of the things that needs to happen for the next step is for teams to start putting their money where their mouths are and start investing in girls early enough to get them on track for single seaters at the same age as boys (a couple of the teams do have girl karters in their academies, which gives me hope).

tldr; I don’t love the way Sophia Floersch talks about f1a, but I think she has some valid points, and I think she’s really impressive generally

#no apologizing I love to hear your thoughts!

17 notes · View notes

faramirsonofgondor · 10 months

Note

Im obsessed with the fact that at literally the faintest hint that things are now ok between thrm, Jamie from then on is just draped over Sam at every opportunity, and Sam just goes with it

yes! that’s part of why i think samjamie works a lot better than royjamie! unlike roy, who takes around 6 months to process and accept jamie’s friendship, sam is immediately aware of and accepting of the fact that jamie just decided they’re besties. they both just mutually decided to protect and love each other one day and have no regrets about it! i also can’t really picture them getting into any “fights” as a couple, maybe just a few disagreements here and there about certain things like what color pillowcases they should buy, which movies they should watch (jamie is getting tired of watching ratatouille every single time), etc. but they’re so willing to put up with each others quirks that i don’t think there would be fights about one of them being too clingy or stuff like that. i think the most that they would really argue about would probably be if they thought that the other was putting themselves in a dangerous situation or something like that (sam worried about jamie getting in touch with his father). there’s also a much healthier power and age dynamic with them!

while i do believe that if roy put in the work to even out the power between him and jamie, we haven’t really seen that happen in canon. in fact, roy tends to do the opposite whether he realizes it or not (again the ‘ugly boy’ thing, and some other stuff). whereas sam and jamie don’t have that big of an age gap and are both at a pretty much equal power balance. i also think that it would be beneficial for both of them to be in a relationship where the power balance was equal, because of their respective histories (sam with rebecca, jamie’s whole entire backstory). even jamie’s relationship with keeley was bit unbalanced considering she was responsible for his pr and was about 10 years older than him, and she had a very well established career at that point. again, while i don’t really think these characters are malicious towards jamie, they still do have power over him that they in some ways abuse, even unintentionally. i love keeley but i think that she was also a bit toxic in behavior towards jamie, since she doesn’t really communicate her boundaries and gets mad when he understand them, and she’s been shown to be very petty about certain things throughout the show. when roy asks her for help during mom city, she ends up making jamie feel worse which shows that she doesn’t really understand him or how to comfort him at all, which is a bit worrying considering they were probably in a relationship for a good while.

sam gives jamie space but still supports him when he needs to and i don’t think he’d have any trouble communicating how he feels. he’s probably one of the most emotionally mature/developed characters on the show despite being one of the youngest, and while he does mess up he tries to rectify those mistakes any way he can. he also has no problems standing up for other people’s privacy/boundaries as we see in 3x09 when he says they shouldn’t speculate on isaac’s sexuality and just be there for him. whereas roy and keeley both have issues with respecting boundaries and privacy (roy asking keeley who her leaked video was for, both roy and keeley stalking jamie in mom city). while they both may have good intentions, it’s probably better to let jamie come to them with his problems instead of feeling cornered into telling them. overall, whether it be platonic or romantic, i think sam and jamie have one of the healthiest and most beautiful relationships in the show!

#jamie tartt #sam obisanya #samjamie #roy kent #keeley jones #ted lasso

29 notes · View notes

scornedserendipity · 29 days

Text

6. The Magic Emporium (Winchester x Younger siblings oc)

yeet so I finally found a face claim for Jamie but you can image her however you want. This is just pretty close to how i see her. but enjoy this chapter. lots is revealed lol. let me know what ya think (yes ik this is actually riley from hellrasier, ignore that lol)

about 6k words some some change

Sam and Dean were gone for a while, they decided just to get a motel room so they didn’t have to plan around visiting hours to see Jamie, not that she minded. She liked being separated from her brothers sometimes. It made her feel like more of an individual than just a Winchester.

Of course, she loved her family and would die for them in a heartbeat but she still enjoyed her own time and secrets. Sam and Dean raised her as far back as she could remember. Dean was more of a parent than her actual Dad ever was. She always knew she was grateful that Sam and Dean wanted her, likely more than Dad ever did. They could have easily left her to be someone else’s problem instead.

“Don’t worry Jamie. Just because you are our half-sister by blood doesn’t make you any less our sister. You are a Winchester and always will be, we will always be your annoying older brothers.”

Sam had said that to her many years ago when she was first starting school and got bullied for not looking like her brothers, just because of her curly hair and tan skin. Kids were cruel but not everyone can chop heads off as a source of anger management.

Jamie sighed as she sipped on her apple juice. She had been staring at her new laptop for hours. She told Sam and Dean that she was going to try and find some more information on Dad’s notes and see if there was anything behind them. Which she did for a short period. Finding a few footnotes and built a reading list of lore that she could correlate to what her Dad was talking about but after a while, she had gone through every piece of paper and it made even less sense to her.

“Okay, so we have angels and demons. Celestial beings that can predate mankind, beings that are a corrupted version of mankind. Different monsters that are only seen in certain parts of America coordinates to multiple locations, and a whole lot of nothing.” She sighed. She couldn’t help but stare at the paperwork. All this time and nothing about her mother, nothing about the woman who brought her into this godforsaken world. Just more monsters.

She sighed and picked up her phone. She scrolled through her contacts till she got to Dean. She dialed and it rang a couple of times.

“Hey, what’s up?” Dean’s voice came from the other side.

“The sky.” Jamie joked. “Any luck on the hunt?” She asked.

“No, we’ve been looking everywhere and asking just about every Jake, Kyle, and Crystal we see every question we can but nothing.”

“Well, I may have found something in Dad’s notes. I found a couple of sets of coordinates and some information on more of our kind of weird. The first set was the road in Jericho where we faced the woman in white, the next place is in Colorado.” Jamie said as she pulled up her digital map where she marked all the coordinates.

“I’ve charted them down but without Dad’s journal, I can’t connect them to anything. It’s all bits and pieces.”

“You did all of that in two days?” Dean asked. There was a pause, she could hear him talking to someone else, probably Sam. “Hang on, I’m going to put you on speaker,” Dean said. There was a beep

“Hey June Bug,” Sam said from the other side. It never failed to make her feel better to hear her brother’s voice.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Jamie asked. She peeked out her window when she saw someone coming by. The door knob never turned so she continued.

“We’re okay, just doing our jobs,” Dean interjected with a scoff.

“So am I went through Dad’s notes and found coordinates, but I need his journal to fact-check.” She summarized.

“Oh okay, well, we are just about done here, we were heading your way anyway,” Sam said.

“Okay. Can you try to get me checked out of here? I feel fine. I even walked around.” Jamie pleaded.

Her brothers scoffed and the line cut off. Jamie threw her hands up in frustration. She hated hospitals. Just like the rest of her family. It was a Winchester curse to have bad experiences with hospitals.

She was already wary of them as a child when her brother had confessed hospitals creep him out. Sam didn’t like them too much because of the smell. It was all to comfort her as she waited for her flu shot, but the real reason she didn’t like them was because the only time she ever got her father to pick her up from school.

Her stomach had been bugging her all week. her brothers knew it, her teachers knew it, and even her Dad knew it, but she always refused the doctors, until the Friday of that week when she couldn’t take it anymore and went to the school nurse. The phone call to her father was terrifying but when the lady explained all of her symptoms and that it could be an infection, he rushed over.

Her Dad was more gentle with her, she always knew it, but he also wanted her to tough it out. At the time it had been a while since her Dad had spoken so gently to her, but was apologetic without even saying it, but the stomach ache wasn’t the reason Jamie hated hospitals. It was that day, at 9 years old, she learned that wraiths love hospitals.

She ended up just having a gnarly stomach infection but it wasn’t anything serious.

Her brothers didn’t believe her till her Dad told them to put their shoes on and follow him. They knew not to question their father and subsequently Jamie. She remembered sticking her tongue out at them as they marched outside with their father leading the way.

“Hey, June Bug.” Dean’s voice broke Jamie’s train of thought. He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair, kicking his feet up onto her bed and sighing. Sam rolled his eyes and took the other side.

“Did you talk to the doctors?” She asked, scratching her brow.

“We did. They said they want to run some tests and make sure you don’t need any more in-house treatment before they discharge you.” Sam said with a smile.

“Nice!” Jamie fist-pumped the air. She was still sore but she wasn’t going to get any more limber sitting in bed. Especially when they might have another case.

“So what did you find in Dad’s stuff?” Dean asked.

“Well, it’s a lot and it’s a lot of nothing at the same time…if that makes sense,” Jamie said, raising her eyebrows and picking up a stack of the papers. So there are only a few coordinates for Colorado, Wisconsin, and Pennsilveiya.”

Sam grabbed the journal from the duffle bag he carried in, flipping through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

“Right here. it said Blackwater, Manitoc, Catasauqua.” Sam said, pointing at the page in the book that listed the sites.

“Looks about right. What are we going to do?” Jamie asked. The younger siblings looked at their older brother. he thought for a moment.

“Well, the only way too Dad, is to follow him and hope we catch up. We can stick around for another day or two, see if we can find out anything else about Jess’s death and then we hit the road.”

It sounded easy, but things never were.

When her brothers left it was just her again. Jamie stared at her new laptop, she wondered if she would even find anything. It started with simple name and location searches. Research on psychics and what they did. She found a website that told all the secrets of fake psychics and magicians, a page dedicated to some kind of weird mind-reading role-play.

“Hmm, maybe if I narrow down the search to Texas?” She asked herself, aimlessly scratching at her neck.

-time break-

“Finally, fresh air!” Jamie said as she walked out of the hospital. The doctors cleared her to leave and she was out faster than a worm in a pickle.

“Calm down, we still have to get back to the motel,” Sam said as he watched his sister.

“yeah, yeah whatever. Say that after you spend a week in bed.” Jamie said, stretching her arms. Sam and Dean watched for any kind of wince or limp in their sister as she stretched.

“Guys, I am fine! One little tumble isn’t enough to keep me down! Relax a little.” She joked. “I want to do some shopping before we go. I need a few things.” She said approaching her brothers. They were still outside the hospital but when she stopped they did. A terrible habit they had.

“Why?” Dean asked. Jamie could tell he was still upset about the money, but there was nothing she could do about that. The majority of it was made after they dropped her off at Bobby’s.

“Well, I need a laptop bag and I’m in California! I want to get a pin from every state for the bag.” She said, which was mostly true but she figured she would have more time to do what she wanted before they went to Colorado.

“I don’t see the problem. We can drop you off downtown, that’s a good shopping area.” Sam said, shrugging.

“Whatever,” Dean said, walking past them and to the car.

“He’s mad at me isn’t he Sammy?” Jamie asked as they followed shortly behind Dean.

“No, he isn’t mad. Don’t worry.” Sam said. Jamie sighed. The drove was silent, just Black Sabbath

“We will be back in a couple of hours. We have one more place to check out.” Dean said, looking up at his baby sister.

“Okay, is there anything you guys need?” She asked, leaning down to look at both of them. Sam and Dean looked at each other, she always knew that life on the road wasn’t easy and packing light was always rule number one.

“Toothpaste.” Dean huffed.

“Toothpaste, okay. Anything you need Sam, never mind, I’ll just get you the basics.” Jamie said. She had completely forgotten his apartment burned down. He probably didn’t have anything but the clothes he packed.

Sam nodded, he was still very upset and was trying to stay strong.

“We’ll be back at 7. So we can avoid traffic.” Dean said, taking a quick look at this watch. Jamie nodded and stepped away from the curb. Dean saluted and pulled off the curb. Jamie watched them for a moment before turning to the mall.

“Alrighty Jamie. Here’s to a 4-hour adventure.” She said to herself. All she had was her backpack, 800 dollars, and high hopes. As Jamie walked she made a mental checklist.

‘toothpaste, deodorant, toothbrush, comb, shampoo, conditioner, body spray.’ All things she had to buy but not the reason she wanted to have some alone time. She was on a hunt.

“Okay, let me get their stuff first so I don’t forget. Gotta find somewhere with pie before 6:45.” Jamie continued to mutter to herself as she walked down the street. Looking for a store that wasn’t her entire budget for a cardigan.

She found a small grocery outlet and grabbed a hand basket, most of it was pretty cheap, it was just a few things here and there. She handed the cashier thirty dollars and looked around, seeing some candy and lottery tickets. Nothing she could concern herself with right now. She still needed her alibi receipt.

Jamie thanked the clerk and left, looking around again. There were lots of outlets, lots to choose from, where she got the bag didn’t matter, so long as it would fit her laptop without letting anything slip out.

Having to run for your life is usually part of the job.

She found herself in a small boutique, it had a very barnyard aesthetic, star hats, and flannel. Flannel was okay, it kept you warm but she preferred something a little less, lumberjack. She browsed for a moment, walking around the shopping area once and assessing where the cameras were. There wasn’t a sensor on the door so in theory, she could walk out with just about anything she wanted.

“Do you have laptop bags or pins?” She asked the woman at the desk. It was just the two of them.

“We have pins but for bags we mostly sell purses.” The woman answered not looking up from her newspaper. The front page was the fire that killed one and demolished an old apartment building.

Jamie looked away and walked out. There wasn’t anything there that matched her style. Plus expensive things are more likely to be stolen if you live on the road.

She found a California Bear pin she liked, only five bucks. She purchased it and kept her receipt.

While she was in the hospital, she was doing more research than just scouring through her Dad’s notes. She had her own hunt to worry about as much as she wanted to find their Dad and whatever killed Jess, she had to focus on herself now.

Sure, her Dad being missing and possibly dead should be a top priority, and it is but she just needed some information. Luckily there was a psychic that worked nearby, only a few blocks due east.

When she was researching, she couldn’t help but use her new laptop to search for her Mom, she had done it before with little results and this time was an even less fruitful search. Her next guess was that another psychic knew her and she was sure this one did.

Histor De la Croix. A 50-year-old fortune teller, mind reader, and magic practitioner. Who was based out of Texas the year Jamie was born. How she got so lucky to find him in the same town her brother was in was nothing short of a miracle.

“I hope he knows something about her, even a picture would help.” She muttered to herself and she read the shop names. She had mapped it all out while in the hospital.

Did Jamie know why she was looking for her mother? Yes and No. Her family was her family and she didn’t consider her mother's family, she would be okay if her Mother still wanted nothing to do with her, at least that’s how her father and Dean made it seem, but at the same time, she couldn’t ignore the facts.

She had some kind of power and it was making things worse. Waking up in fields, feeling like she didn’t know who she was, losing time, all things that happened once she turned 17 and Sam left. She never told her brothers, they barely talked. Bobby knew he was the one who found her in the junkyard at six am.

It wasn’t just a few weird occurrences. She never liked violence and only killed when she had to, she has only killed a handful of monsters but it never stopped making her sad. They have to eat just like she does. When she killed her very first vampire, she was 12. It was out of necessity since Sam had refused to go again. When she faced him, and swung her machete like her father taught her, she felt the fear he felt. The way his body reacted to the swing of death she delivered. How she felt it for several minutes after his head had rolled to her Father’s feet.

Despite the experience, it was one of the few times her father had patted her on the back with a smile.

“Good job, June Bug. Let’s not wait around next time though.”

The way Dean bragged to Sam about her when they got home, claiming he knew she was always the better hunter, even Dad had piped in when Sam started digging back at Dean.

“Boys. Watch TV or sleep, Jamie still has homework to finish since someone chickened out.”

Jamie stopped in front of a small shop, barely decorated with blacked-out windows. It sat alone on the corner of the block. minimally decorated compared to the other magic shops she had seen online.

“The Magic Emporium.” She said to herself. It was the right place, but it didn’t look to be occupied. Compared to the rest of the shops, this one looked abandoned.

She tried to open the door but it was locked. Closed. Jamie tried to peek into the windows but the shades were too dark. She sighed and went around the back of the shop, looking around in case anyone saw her or her brothers managed to tail her.

There was a small window that wasn’t covered, about two feet by two feet in size. She could easily fit through it if she left her backpack. She grabbed her pocket knife and carefully slid the lock out of place, using the gap between the sill and the seal. It took a few tries but she managed to move it enough to open the window.

“Here goes a misdemeanor.” She muttered to herself as she peered her head in. There wasn’t anything blocking the window. She went in feet first, holding her backpack in one hand as she entered the building, shutting the window behind her.

She took a moment to listen for any sound. The lights were off but the window provided just enough for her to see the silo of small statues and large plants. Jamie walked around for a moment, heading towards the door she had seen earlier, doing her best to make as little noise as possible.

Jamie was about to flip some kind of switch when she heard the familiar sound of a gun cocking. She froze in her place, in the dark.

“Who a’e ya?” A male voice asked from behind her.

“Uhm, nobody.” She said, turning around with her hands up. She moved slowly, just like her father had told her. She didn’t bring any weapons except for her pocket knife, but what good was a knife in a gunfight, in the dark?

“What a’e ya doi 'n in my shop?”

“I’m here for Histor De la Croix and I’m a student. Are you him?” She said. A partial truth but she couldn’t help but want to avoid an unnecessary risk. A man is less likely to shoot an innocent with no name, versus a burglar with a name he may not like. If he truly knew her Mom, there is a chance he knows her Dad.

“Well if nob’dy askin why would I be tell’n?” The man shuffled to the side, not taking his eyes off Jamie, he flipped the light switch on and the space illuminated. Jamie looked around the statues, shaman masks, paintings, and framed documents scattered on the walls. Copious amounts of plants and miscellaneous supplies. Histor was a lanky man, looked like one gust of wind would knock him over. Dark, messy hair and ungroomed facial hair.

Jamie had no choice at this point. If he wanted to shoot her he would have done it already. Called the police and said someone had broken in, what’s an old man’s word to a dead girl? She had to gamble that the truth would set her free this time. It was her last chance.

“My name is Jamie Winchester. I’m a hunter and I need your help.” She said, hands still in the air. She watched the man like a hawk. He stepped closer, rifle still aimed right at Jamie.

“Why should I help a hun’er?” He asked suspiciously.

“Because I am also the daughter of Frida, did you know her?” Histor’s expression changed when he heard Frida’s name. He slowly lowered the gun, furrowing his brows as if to look at her face. Jamie could tell he was getting overwhelmed just at the mention of her mother’s name.

“You are the baby arem’t ya? That ole’ hun’ers bastard” The man asked, he was still holding the gun but it was lowered enough for Jamie to lower her hands as well.

“If you mean, John Winchester, then yes. I need your help, I just need information.” Jamie said, taking a step. Histor sighed and looked Jamie up and down. He wasn’t impressed.

“She warned me this would hap’pn s’mes day. Come on with me child.” The man beckoned as he walked deeper into the building. Jamie couldn’t help but be taken aback by his sudden calmness.

“What kind of magic practitioner are you?” Jamie asked as she took a few steps forward. The hallway Histor was heading towards seemed menacing, deeper than it should be. Like it almost wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Spells and material magic. I study magic that can be car’id in objects. But cha mama, she was in a diff’ernt league. She was magic all on ‘er own.” Histor explained as they walked, not even bothering to look back at Jamie as she watched the walls around her. They weren’t moving, but they weren’t solitary either. She felt like she was about to enter a room that was the love child of a fun house and a house of mirrors but as Histor spoke about her Mom, the feelings of unease and fear drifted away as she latched onto whatever positive emotion she was feeling from Histor.

“Uhm yeah, so I’m looking for her and I was wondering if you knew anything else about her?” Jamie said as they walked. They seemed to be going much deeper than the building allowed.

“You won’t fin’ her I can tell you that. The night she left you she only did it for you’s and those pesky hun’er boys safe.” He said with an irritated tone. “All yous woulda been mince if she hadn’t. I havn’t the faintest how she had a soft spot fo’ dem boys.”

“For real, they are douche bags. But you said she was trying to keep me safe? Safe from what?” Jamie asked.

“Ya mama was one of the last of an ancient bloodline. Do you know wha’ a Witness is?” Histor asked. They entered an even smaller room, just a table and a few chairs with a chest of drawers and a TV stacked on some boxes.

“A witness? Like at a crime scene?” Jamie asked. Histor took a seat in the rolling chair and got comfortable.

“No, more in the biblical sense. A witness is a mem’er of a powe’ful bloodline datin’ back to the time of Jesus and the disciples.” Histor said. “Come sit. We have much to talk about.” Histor waved at her. Jamie grabbed one of the chairs and sat on the other side of the table.

“Is that why I have Empathy?” Jamie asked. For a moment Histor seemed to pause before speaking up.

“Yes, being a witness does have its perks. Let me guess, it seems like you can pick up just about any skill like you’ve master’ed it?” Jamie considered for a moment. To think about being good at everything made her feel vain. For a moment she looked back on all the new things she had tried and how they were never as difficult as people made them out to be. Reluctantly she nodded. Histor scoffed.

“Just like ya mama, ya is. ya get visions of the to be o’e the al’eady been?” Jamie nodded. “It will just get wo’se ya see. Ya will get strong but that’s not the only thing. Throughout hist’ry, there have always been two witnesses. When one dies, the next ones powe’s awaken. A continuous, cosmic cycle. Your powe’s will grow as your mind does because of ya soul.” Histor explained.

“Wait, so what I’m a reincarnation?” Jamie asked.

“No clue. But, when ya born, Frida and the second witness, a fool they called Marshall. They was in a bad way when you came along ya see. So the night ya born Frida placed a spell over ya. Protection from the witness’s eyes. So he couldn’t find ya.”

“Wait so, is he going to come after me?” Jamie asked.

“Yes. It is a fate very few are destined for. You are a protector of sorts.” Histor was staring at her intently. How her eyes shifted and her expression changed ever so slightly as he spoke. “The man, Marshal came and asked me about ya, he was convinced yous were his blood.”

“Wait, my dad might not be my dad?” Jamie asked. This was the moment her world started rocking. John might not be her dad, then Sam and Dean aren’t her brothers… she was reeling. “Am I? of his blood?” She gulped. Her hands were starting to sweat.

“Oh, baby child, no yous is ya Daddy’s. There is no question about that. Ya, mama would neva lie about something as se’rious as family..”

“What was Marshal?” She asked.

“He and Frida used to be thick as thieves till he was corrupted by a bunch of old dark magic. Frida managed to get away from him, ya came along and she had to do something. That’s why she made that spell of hers. She told me when ya pow’rs full awaken one of em would be dead but she couldn’t take the risk that it wouldn’t be him. So she cast the spell that night in Texas. She said it would suppress your soul’s power so he couldn’t find ya.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Jamie was absorbing all the information, she felt like she had just been tossed into a grain mill and her brain was being milled to mush.

“ya think i’m ly’in to ya dont ya child.” histor said, leaning back with some kind of smirking smile on his face.

“I’ve heard a lot of crazy and this takes the cake but no, Histor. I know you aren’t lying to me.” Jamie said, blowing air out of her cheeks. “I can feel it. I always say Lady Luck has a crush on me, but now I don’t even know what to think.” She shrugged.

“It’s like turmoil isn’t it. In ya heart. It’s the call of the witness. The way Frida explained ‘er powers. It was like being connected to eve’ythin’. But she knew she had a greater purpouse, she met Marshal and learned even more. Her abilites grew and grew and I bet yous will too but listen to me now child. This is as true as the sky is blue. I may be an old fart but you broke into my home looking for answers. you think that’s just chance?”

Jamie considered it for a moment. She felt no malice or deceit from Histor, he had no reason to lie to her at this point. Either of them could have made a move. Jamie sighed. She definitely couldn’t tell her brothers about this, if her Dad knew this whole time was he ever going to tell her?

“You said my abilities will grow? How are we talkin?” Jamie asked. If it was real, she had to take it seriously. It’s her only lead after all. She had to treat it just like she did the Shapeshifter, leaving no stone unturned. She would interview every psychic, medium, or shaman that was in Texas at the time whether they were dead or alive if she had to.

“Yes, they will. What they will be I have not the faintest of clues. Ya Mama could move objects and people with her mind sometimes, compelling them to tell her the truth. I know that as your powe’s grow, the spell she cast will try to fight them and there will be negative side effects until the spell is eventually broken.” Histor explained. He turned around in his chair and opened one of the trunks.

“Negative effects like… sleepwalking?” Jamie asked, leaning forward and trying to see what he was doing.

“No clue, ya might get sick, might experience prophetic nightmares, explode, might explode people around you. Ya might just flat-out drop dead. The spells Frida used were ‘er own. This is all I have left of ‘er.” Histor said as he placed a metal box on the table. he undid the latches and opened it. “I knew ya mama since we was youngins. She was always talented and very grown up for her age, but when she turned 18 things started to change. She had nightmares and would often completely forget where she was. It may be the same for ya. Frida neva explained er’thing to me, but by the time we par’ted ways, she was as strong as a demon.”

Jamie was on the edge of her seat. This was the closest she had ever been and she had no idea where she could go from here. What could it be? A letter, a photo, some kind of book, or a clue? What exactly was Frida getting at? Histor said she knew Jamie would come looking for him in search of her. How much does he know?

Millions of questions ran through Jamie’s head like a high school mile as she watched Histor. Everything felt like a dream, she tried to take in every detail she could, not miss a single thing the man had said.

Histor reached into the box and pulled out a small gem, strung on twine. He looked at it deeply before placing it on the table.

“I know how this all must seem to ya but ya mama was only doin’ what was best for ya given ya’lls situation. She left me this and told me to “give it to my gal when she finds you.” and I ain’t seen ‘er since. You are the only gal who has come to see me since 1999.” he confessed.

“I am in way over my head…” She muttered, reaching for the gem. “I need two more favors and I will pay and be on my way, Histor,” Jamie said, pulling out the bills she kept in her pocket. Histor was shocked for a moment but when he saw the amount he couldn’t help but accept.

“Ya Frida child, I give ya the discount.” Histor winked and nodded for her to continue.

“The spell. How do I break it?”

“I haven’t the foggiest. I do know a spell that could undo any spell. It’s not easy though and you could die. When spells like the ones ya mama cast are broken, often they take somethin’ to remember ya by.”

Histor was watching Jamie intently the entire time. He knew this day would come because Frida told him. He stared at Jamie and she stared back. She had the same thick curls and tan skin Frida had, even her freckles matched. He felt like he was staring at a time machine.

“Ya look just like ya mama ya know that?” Histor said. Jamie looked up, surprised and then sad.

“Really?” She asked as she fiddled with the gemstone. It was probably a jade if she had to guess but now it was so much more than just a jade, or just a pendant. She put it around her neck.

“I was in love with her since we was babes. I could never forget her face.” Histor stood up and walked to the other side of the room. Jamie watched as he shuffled through old files.

“You were in love with my Mom? What was she like?” Jamie asked from her seat.

“Oh, she was like a breath of fresh air and a burning fire at the same time. Ya Daddy didn’t get to know er too well before he beat it but she was one of a kind, and loved ya very much. Thats why she did what she did.” Histor said, pausing from his tasks and looking up, as if reflecting on a momemory.

“Here, I drew this the year ya mama vanished. This is ya mama.” He said, bringing over a piece of parchment. It was a drawing of a woman. Jamie was shocked at how much she looked like the photo, just a younger version.

“That’s my Mom?” She asked. She cautsiouly took the photo in her hand, hoping she would experience some kind of vision but nothing happened. Her mother was a pretty woman, A strong jaw line and nose, deep eyes and dark, unruly curls. In the photo she looked about thirty.

Histor reclaimed his seat on the other side of the table.

“Her Daddy was a black guy from over the train tracks, her mama was immigrant hunter who moved to America to live a normal life. When ya mama’s powers came along and her parents found out, they kicked her to the curb and she stayed with my family for a long time. Then she met Marshal and he told her about this ‘great purpose’ she served in a Holy War. A load of bullshit if you ask me but that’s how it happened. After she met Marshal we talked less and less. He tried to indoctrinate her but it was a whole mess when ya Daddy came along and accused him of being some kinda witch. Not to far of the reservation if ya ask me.”

Jamie nodded as she stared at the photo. She was learning things even her father didn’t know. She actually had no idea how her parents met or how long they knew each other.

“Life is weird.” She muttered, shrugging her shoulders.

“Say that you won’t go looking for ya mama.” Jamie looked up with furrowed brows. Her sadness quickly turned into anger when she heard his words. “Lis’en to me, Jamie Winchester. If ya go looking for ya mama, Marshal will come looking for ya and that man is fa’ more powe’ful. I will help ya break the spell but if somethin goes wrong don’t blame me.”

“Histor. I can’t even begin to thank you for everything you’ve shared with me. I’ve spent half my life searching for her. For answers. If someone wants to come after me, they can try, if they try to stop me, I will kill them first.” She said, her gaze was hard and bore into Histor’s soul like a drill.

Histor’s gaze remained steadfast. Beady blue eyes were hidden behind a heavy brow and messy hair. he wore a heavy frown but he never looked away from Jamie.

“Very well. I warn’d ya. To break the spell you need to be in the same place it was created. Likely in that house in Texas. You will need Ague Root, the ash of a Holy Object like a cross that has been dipped in Holy Water, and the caster’s DNA.”

Jamie nodded as she listened. Writing everything down on of of her receipts.

“After you have all ya ingredients. On the night of a full moon, you must be in the exact location the spell was casted to reverse it. Grind and mix all your ingredients, and chat the following.” Histor instructed, motioning for her to pass the paper and pen. As he wrote he continued to explain the spell.

“When you cast this spell, there is no way of knowing it will work. There may be more consequence than gain when you do this, nothing may happen.” He explained.

“You just told me if I don’t break this spell I might drop dead, I can deal with the consequences later. I refuse to leave my brothers alone in this world but I will be careful. Thank you Histor.” Jamie said as he passed the paper back. She stuffed it into her pocket and got up. She stood by his side and crouched, looking up at the old man with tears in her eyes.

“It’s a possibility. Unless you’ve already started experiencing the side effects?’ Histor questioned. Jamie nodded, she didn’t want to admit it but deep down she knew he had been telling the truth and what’s been happening to her for the past year was because of her mother.

“I can never truly repay you for your help today. You have given me things that my family has tried to keep away from me for years. Here is my number, if you ever need help, call me, for anything” She said, giving him a quick peck and the cheek and standing up. Holding a smaller piece of paper to him.

Histor smiled at her and accepted the paper. “I think I have one more thing that might help ya.” Histor stood up again. Jamie was worried he’d lose his footing but he managed just fine. “When ya mama came and saw me that night, she left me with more than just that pendant. I don’t think she wanted me to give to ya, but I’ve never been good at following rules.” He chuckled, walking to the same chest he grabbed the picture from. he pulled out a small book-sized box.

“Here, I got no clue what that is. She said to protect it with my life though. It’s probably safer in your hands than mine.” Jamie accepted the box. She looked at it, there were some runes on it but nothing that looked too serious.

“To get out, just walk straight and pass through the front door this time. It’s illusion magic ya mama woulda seen it” he said with a scoff. Jamie shrugged and waved before making her way out.

“You did it, Jamie.” She muttered to herself as she passed right through the front door, coming out onto the street. Jamie looked back at the box that she stashed under her arm, using her free hand she wiped the tears that peaked from her eyes.

“Maybe I’m psycing myself out but if I touch this and get a vision I’m going to look very weird just falling on my ass.” She muttered to herself before placing the box in her backpack, making sure to put it at the bottom, under everything else she had bought. A shoplifting trick she learned in high school.

She her hand through her hair and sighed as her fingers got caught in the naps of her curls.

“Dammit. I thought I was doing pretty good keeping it untangled.” She muttered to herself before making her way down the road.

---

a/n there it is. honestly i am way to lazy to make these look nice like the other authors so enjoy the bare minimum for presentation lol. let me know what ya though and thank u for all the likes. it feeds me.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #oc #winchesters x sibling #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister

9 notes · View notes