#she was like ‘now Jamie he sure has come a long way!’ you don’t know the half of it mom lmao

[lunar-years]

Y’all I had dinner with my parents and honest to god my mom says out of nowhere (we were not even talking about Ted Lasso) “I really like Keeley with both Roy and Jamie I don’t know who I want her to end up with!” And see, this is how the show is slowly converting the casual viewer into a Roy/Jamie/Keeley throuple truther—

[moonstruckme]

jilly x reader where the reader gets hypothermia

cw: symptoms of mild hypothermia, (implied?) freezing water, non-sexual nudity

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

James half carries you back to the cabin. This is partly because you’re shivering too hard to walk as quickly as you’d like, and partly because your legs simply won’t move the way you tell them to. Your wet lashes feel heavy with the ice crystals you imagine forming on them. 

He passes you off to Lily while he unlocks the front door. She rubs one hand uselessly over your arm through your soaked coat, using the other to unstick a frigid piece of hair from your face. 

They both help you inside. Set you down on the couch, and James makes a sound close to a laugh when you protest about getting wet on his mother’s cushions. 

“Start a fire, please?” Lily is all business, panic making her stern. Or maybe not stern so much as resolved. Her features are set, green eyes alternating between worried and determined, but her hands are characteristically gentle as they unzip your coat and pull you out of it one arm at a time. 

“Love?” 

You realize she’s been talking to you. “Hm?” 

Delicate brows pinch in either concern or relief. “How do you feel, sweetheart?” 

“Oh. Um.” Your chittering makes your words come out jolting and stilted. “Cold.” 

“Tired?” she asks. You put your arms up when she motions for you to, letting her lift your jumper over your head. The thought that you’re the only one getting undressed between your partners doesn’t occur to you; you only know that Lily seems urgent, and you trust her. 

“Ye—yeah.” 

“I think we have an electric blanket around here somewhere,” says James. He’s poking at a log in the fireplace, trying to provoke a bigger flame. “Get her closer to here, love.” 

“I’m still trying to get her out of her wet clothes. Can you help me?” 

James helps you to stand so Lily can tug your trousers off. They stick to your legs but crinkle oddly, stiff with ice. James kisses your temple and murmurs something you can’t quite make out. You feel guilty for ruining what was meant to be a fun afternoon of ice skating on the pond near James’ family cabin. You’ve never heard Lily shout like she did when the ice broke beneath you. 

They wrap you up in an electric blanket and put your hair up in a towel to get it off your neck, and you let James massage warmth into your fingers while Lily makes something warm for you to drink. 

“Jamie,” she calls from the kitchen, “do you all keep a thermometer here?” 

“Um, I’m not sure,” replies James. “If we did, it’d be in one of the drawers in the bathroom.” 

You hear your girlfriend whizz off in that direction. 

“How are you, angel?” James presses a couple of firm, warm kisses to your face, squeezing your hands. “Do you still feel tired?” 

“A little,” you admit. Your shivering has lessened, though. “Is it okay that we left our skates by the pond?” 

“What?” He gives a little laugh. “Yeah, it’s fine. That’s not really the top concern right now, you know?” 

You frown. It’s supposed to snow again tonight. “I don’t want them to get buried…” 

“I’ll go get them later,” James reassures you. He kisses your nose. “Don’t worry about that, lovebug. Just try to get warm, okay?” 

“I sort of feel like you guys are doing all the work for me.” 

James’ laughs as Lily comes to sit beside you. 

“Here, can you keep this in your mouth for me, please?” You nod, but when she slips the thermometer under your tongue she evidently makes a last-minute call to hold it herself instead. Lily’s thumb drags heavily over your cheek. You notice her bottom lip looks colored and bitten. 

“I think I’m okay…” you try to tell her, but stop when she shushes you gently. 

“That’s good, lovely, but don’t talk with this in your mouth.” She gives you a terse smile. 

James transfers both of your hands to one of his, using the other to squeeze her elbow consolingly. Both of your partners watch you intently as you wait. 

When Lily deems it's been long enough and looks at the thermometer, her posture slumps with relief. 

“Oh, it’s—that’s not so bad.” 

James grins, reading over her shoulder. “It must be coming up,” he says confidently. 

You offer your girlfriend a smile. “I told you, I think I’m fine.” 

Lily makes a soft, strangled sound, eyebrows pinching in the moment before she throws her arms around you. You see some of your own surprise reflected in James’ expression as you catch her, bringing her into the heated dome of your electric blanket with you.

“I didn’t know…I was really scared,” she confesses tearily, squeezing you around your neck. 

You rub her back in an attempt to reassure her. Behind her, James is doing the same. He gets his arms around the both of you, holding your shoulders through the blanket. 

“It’s alright,” he says. “We must be doing something right, yeah? Or she wouldn’t be getting better so quickly.” 

Lily exhales a shaky breath. “I am never, ever going ice skating again.” 

“Yes, you are,” you tell her fondly. 

“No. And you shouldn’t either! In fact, I hope our skates do get buried, and neither of you can ever find them.” 

You make a sound of protest, but James speaks over you, “Alright, lovely. We can let nature roll the dice tonight, if that’s what you want.” 

“But James—” 

“Angel, you weren’t witness to your own blue lips,” he tells you, rubbing your shoulder pacifyingly. “I think we’re permitted a bit of overreaction right now. I say bury the skates.” 

You give a little laugh. “You’re both taking this too far. We don’t have to use them, but there’s no reason to leave perfectly good skates out there in the snow.” 

“Mm, let’s say we return to that debate when you’re no longer shivering.” 

You all sit there for a while, holding each other while the fire crackles and warmth seeps into your fingertips. Lily’s hands are actually quite cold around your neck, but you refuse to tell her lest she spring away from you. When the kettle starts to whistle, she sniffs and pulls away anyways, wiping under her eyes. 

“I’ve got it,” says James, standing with a kiss to each of your heads. “What are we having?” 

“Hot chocolate.” She takes a breath, collecting herself. “She needs something with sugar. Thanks, Jamie.” 

You smile at her. “You’re so brilliant. How do you know that?” 

Lily’s lips tilt slightly in response. “I read it somewhere.” 

“So brilliant,” you repeat, kissing her softly on the lips. They’re noticeably warmer than yours, but you feel much more yourself than you had when you first got back to the cabin. “Thanks for helping me.” 

She makes a scoffing sort of noise. It doesn’t sound terribly derisive when it’s bent by fondness like this. Lily touches the backs of her fingers to your cheek, caressing. “You don’t have to thank us. Either of us,” she says. The tears have cleared from her eyes, leaving a raw caring in their wake. “We love you. A lot.” 

Your heart feels more than sufficiently warmed as you close the gap between you again. “I love you a lot, too.”

[dakotalun]

What Now? | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: You just got broken up with and you can only think of one place to go.

warnings: none, just some fluffy Eddie moments :)

word count: 1k

a/n: Shit it's been a while. Anyways back to it!

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Everything was going okay recently, not many nightmares and the ones I did have weren’t too bad. Until…

“What?” The confusion is evident on my face and in my voice.

“I just don’t think we’ll work out. I’m sorry,” Jamie’s head is down and their eyes are looking everywhere but at me.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all, it’s me.”

I scoff, “Pfft. Okay sure,” I roll my eyes at their words, “Like every other time people say that line.”

“I’m being serious, love. I love you, I really do but there’s shit that I need to figure out-”

“Then we figure it out together! That’s what it means to be in a committed relationship!”

“I just- I feel like having a partner right now is not helping,” Their voice is distant and soft now.

“I get it. I’m too much, too clingy, too needy, too…everything,” The words sting my throat and tongue as they leave but it’s the truth, it’s what they all mean when they break it off with me.

“Not at all! You’re perfect, in every way, shape, and form. Seriously, it's me. I’m going through shit that I feel like would break us if I kept lying about it to you.”

“So this has been going on for a while?” I see their face change for a second then go back to sadness.

“Yeah, it has. But I thought it was nothing-”

“How long?”

“What?” Now it’s their turn to be confused.

“How long have you known and been going through this?” My face is steel and I show no emotion.

“Since Lolla.”

Lollapalooza was in August, it’s November. They’ve known this and not said anything for 3 months! Lying to me about everything for so long and I had no idea. I don’t even know how to feel right now. I begin to grab my bag and stuff my shit in it before getting up off their bed.

"Y/N," They reach for my hand to stop me from leaving.

I pull away before they can touch me, "Don't. I- I need space," I leave their room and head for the front door, looking back at the fuzzy orange cat lying on the back of the chair as he always does for the last time. 

"Bye Cheerio," I twist the knob and walk out of the apartment I had felt so welcome in before. 

I can hear the thunder once in the elevator, realizing that I can't return home because I promised Robin the apartment, assuming I'd be with Jamie all night. I try to think of who else I could stay with tonight.

Chrissy maybe? No, she’s at Jason’s place for the weekend. Oh, Nancy should be free right? I reach for my phone to text Nancy but see a Google Calendar notification on the screen.

Nancy Double Date with Johnathan and Roomie! Damn, I guess she’s out too. Maybe Robin would understand me coming home tonight, if I told them what happened? 

As I think about what to do and where to go, rain starts to pour down, soaking through the loose shirt I had put on. 

Why does this keep happening to me? How do I always end up in the rain with no place to go? I think back to last summer when Kris, Sophia, and I got into it and my brother’s friend had to come rescue me from myself and the rain. I laugh at the thought that this is just going to be my normal from now on.

As I walk, my feet autonomously begin to head to the only other person whom I trust and who might be able to help. I don’t even realize where I’m going until I’m standing in front of the building, not under the protection of the awning even though it’s only 3 feet in front of me.

I take a deep breath before stepping forward and deciding this really is the only option I have left. I’m thankful for the covering once I’m actually under it. I dial apartment 203 and wait for the voice of my best friend to spread through the old speaker.

"Hello?" His voice is low and gravelly; he must have just woken up.

"Eddie, It’s Y/N. Can I come up? I-" I sniffle and before I can continue I hear the lock moving and the door unlock so I can enter. I didn’t even realize I had been crying until then.

I quickly open the door and make my way through the small maze to get to his place on the second floor. I can feel my wet socks and the weight of my bag has risen tremendously since I left Jamie’s. I'm gonna need to check and make sure my computer is okay once I get inside his place.

Soon I reach his door and he's standing there against the frame, in a tshirt and sweats, his signature look. The expression on his face is one of concern and fear. Something I’m all too familiar with.

"Hey," My voice is weak and not at all how he normally hears it. I’ve never cried in front of him and we’ve been friends for over a year now, strange.

"Shit, Y/N you're soaked! Get the fuck in here," He moves out the way and closes the door behind me as I walk into his living room, making sure to take off my shoes before going onto the carpet.

He comes back with a towel and wraps it around me after taking my bag and setting it at my feet. I mumble a thank you before taking a seat at the edge of his couch, completely on the other side from where he normally sits.

To my surprise he sits next to me and rubs my back, comforting me and drying me at the same time. We sit there in silence for a few minutes. I'm tired and not in the mood to fully explain what happened yet, so neither of us speak until I realize I should probably tell him why I came to his place so late and without warning.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn @meanlilbean @sonnyahngel @corrodedcass @pigwidgeonxo @marsmunson86 @lottie-90 @figmentofquinn @sareim123122 @eddies-puppet @gvf23 @kennedy-brooke @rocklees-wife @emma77645 @cherris-n-peaches @breehumbles @joequinn-love @anyoddthoughts @aysheashea @eddiesskittle @uncxmfxrtablex @cherrymedicine13 @mrsjellymunson @shotgunhallelujah @bambipowerblueaddition @hexqueensupreme @josephquinnsfreckles @harrysgothicbitch @paleidiot @smurfflynn @lilyungpeanut @selena-rocker27

[reevesdriver]

Mr. Dutton (NSFW)

Summary: You're recently single and living in hotels so when you get talking to your long-term friend, Beth Dutton, she invites you to stay at the Dutton ranch where you suddenly become close to the man you crushed on as you grew up, John Dutton.

Word count: 2535

Reader: Female reader

Character(s): John Dutton

Warning(s): NSFW / 🔥🔥🔥 / Smut / Unprotected Sex / Age-Gap (Reader is of legal age) / Best Friends Dad / Save a horse you know the rest / Oral Sex (M & F Receiving) / Dickhead Ex-boyfriend / John is a strong man I just know it /

Support Me: Kofi

Part 2

(AN: This man, well, this series has me in a chokehold at the minute and there's a serious lack of Yellowstone fics so here you go have some daddy Dutton🥵.)

Splitting from your useless excuse of an ex was proving to be the best thing you ever did. Even if you didn't have a place to stay and a boot full of your belongings your happiness was improving already. Your long-term friend, Beth Dutton, had invited you out for dinner and when she heard of your current hotel-staying situation she invited you back to her family ranch to stay.

You declined at first, not wanting to be in the way, but when she asked you for a ride back to the ranch and made you come inside for another drink you conveniently got talking to her father about the situation and when John Dutton said you could stay who were you to refuse?

“Thank you for letting me stay Mr Dutton."

“You can call me John, darlin’. We’ve known each other long enough to keep up the formalities.”

“Told you he wouldn’t mind.” Beth smiled as she looked up from her food. Gator had prepared a meal for the three of you since Jamie was working and Kayce and his family wanted to spend some time to themselves so John let you take his youngest sons seat next to him.

“It should only be for a few weeks. Until I can sort out a place of my own, if there’s anything that needs doing please let me know. I don’t wanna be wandering around doing nothing whilst everyone else is working.”

“We could probably use some help keeping the place tidy but I’ll see if Rip needs any help too.”

“Thanks Beth.”

Later in the day Beth showed you to your room and after John insisted on helping you bring the boxes of your belongings up you got settled for the night. The room that had been given to you was large, definitely the largest room you'd ever stayed in, and as you hung your clothes up in the double-wardrobe you peered out of the window and across the ranch taking in the sights.

It had been a few years or so since you'd had the chance to come back to the Dutton ranch. Between working and dealing with your ex it became almost impossible to have any time to yourself let alone with your friends. Fortunately you remained in touch with Beth and despite you not being able to meet up like you used to you were thankful that she was understanding.

You sighed. You hadn't thought about your ex since walking out of the relationship after you found out he was cheating and you were annoyed that after a few weeks he decided to plague your mind now when you were trying to start fresh. As if on queue your phone pinged with a text from said ex and you felt the tears start to well up in your eyes as you saw the brief begging message he'd said. A gentle knock on the open bedroom door brought your attention away from your phone screen.

"You alright?" Johns soft voice filled the room as he stood cautiously in the doorway.

You sniffled a little bit and wiped the corners of your eyes before nodding. "Yeah I will be." You turn to face him. "Thank you for letting me stay John, it really means a lot to me."

"You don't need to thank me darlin', you're welcome here anytime. I'm headin' to bed but if you need anything then come and wake me alright?" He says and you nod in understanding. "Make sure you get some rest."

John turned and left the doorway, closing the door behind him he left you in peace as you continued to put your clothes away. When you finished you picked up your phone, blocked your ex and climbed under the sheets after turning the light off.

The following morning the Duttons woke before you did and made their way downstairs. Beth made herself a drink and then sat at the dining table immediately digging in to the food that Gator had put out for them. Soon after, her father followed and took his seat at the head of the table with his own drink.

“Is she still asleep?” John asks, referring to you and Beth nods. “I was thinking of getting her set up in the stables, she was always good with grooming the horses so figured that’s a good place to start.”

Beth agreed and soon they fell into silence, silence that was soon interrupted by Beths phone pinging. When she checked it a smile crossed her face and soon she was standing up and excusing herself for the rest of the morning. Shortly after Beth had left you'd woke and quickly got dressed after checking the time. It was still early morning but you didn't want to start sleeping in especially since you offered to help around the ranch.

Exiting the bedroom you made your way through the house and eventually to the dining room where you saw John sat at the table on his own. "I was wondering when you would be making an appearance." He greeted you with a smile. Gator was bringing more plates of food to the table, toast, bacon, eggs etc and you felt like you were in heaven.

"That was probably the best night sleep I've had in a while." You smiled and took the seat that you had sat in the night before. "I hope I didn't get up too late."

John laughed. "Darlin' you're up earlier than I thought you would be anyway so it's fine."

"You got any jobs for me today?"

"Actually yes, i want you to groom the horses if you're up to it, they haven't been bathed in a while and even though the men in the bunkhouse are capable they never get them looking like you did."

You happily agree and think back to all the times you spent with Johns horses, brushing their mains and fur, bathing them and just overall paying as much attention to them as possible. John always watched you from a distance since he had other things to be taking care of but when you stopped coming around he started to notice that the horses looked dirtier and never seemed to be as clean as they used to be.

Finishing off your breakfast you started the day with choosing a horse and hosing them down before washing and drying them. You brushed their fur, main and platted their tail before mucking out their stable and then moving on to the next one. By the end of the week you'd cleaned up a handful of the horses and had been introduced to the new workers like Jimmy and reacquainted with the old ones like Lloyd and Rip who you'd come to miss. You helped out where you could but when Friday night hit you were glad to have been told to rest over the weekend by John.

Your old cowboy boots had rubbed your feet raw as it had been so long since you'd last worn them. When you entered the house you kicked off your boots and carried them upstairs to your room sitting on the edge of the bed you removed your socks and frowned at the redness of your feet. As the sun set you undressed and showered before returning to the bedroom and climbing into bed. Not a minute or so after your head hit the pillow your phone pinged.

Sitting up you were curious as to who could be texting you, that was until you saw the 13 missed calls and around 50 texts from an unknown number. Your stomach dropped, it was your ex and the messages ranged from "I miss you" to "Go fuck yourself" as well as. few others thrown in here and there for good measure. You skimmed the messages quickly when another one came through "I can see that you've read my messages, fucking reply to me." and with that you blocked the number and turned off your phone.

All the work you'd done over the past few days didn't seem to have affected you anymore since you'd gone from being on the verge of falling asleep to wide awake in a matter of minutes. You tossed and turned in bed trying to fall asleep but after 2 hours had passed you gave up.

Leaving the bedroom you stepped into the surprisingly warm hallway and made your way to the staircase. Peering over the bannister you saw John who looked comfortable for once, normally any time you'd seen him he was tense but now, sat in front of the lit fire with a tumbler of Whiskey on the side table and his feet up on the coffee table he looked relaxed. “What’re you doing up?” You ask after glancing at the clock on the wall.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He replies looking up from his book as you descended the staircase.

“Can’t sleep, mind if I grab a book and join you?”

“Help yourself.” He replies and you smile. John watches from his position on the couch as you turn and head towards the bookcases. He watches you skim the leather bound books for a title that piqued your interest. Reaching up for a familiar title and raising up onto your tip-toes makes your oversized t-shirt rise up your thighs and stop just under your ass. John struggles not to choke on his drink as he drags his eyes up your thighs and catches a glimpse of your laced underwear peaking from underneath the baggy t-shirt.

After grabbing a book you quietly made yourself a drink from the bar and took a seat on the couch next to John as he topped up his glass with the opened bottle of Whiskey next to him. “Whatcha reading?” He asks with genuine curiosity. You flashed him the cover of the book and he recognised the title. “Good choice.” He smiles and you smile back.

Sitting down on the couch next to him you made sure to leave some room between the both of you. Your legs were bent at the knee and tucked up next to you and it didn’t take long until you started rubbing at the sore areas of your feet. The action didn’t go unnoticed and soon John broke the silence. “Your feet hurting you?”

“Yeah, been a while since I’ve worn my boots. Think they need breaking in again or I need a new pair.” You laugh.

“Here, let me.” He says extending his hand out to you and you knew better than to argue with him. Lifting your feet you drop them into his lap gently, the fabric of his jeans rubbing against the backs of your legs. Suddenly it took you much longer to finish a page as your mind kept wandering to Johns calloused hand rubbing your feet as he continued to read his book, stopping occasionally to take a sip of his drink.

His lap was warm, his jeans felt nice and rough and as his hand traced the bottom of your foot up to your ankle you felt the growing rigid length of his cock press against the side of your foot. Your eyes were no longer focused on the book and instead you peered over the pages to look at your best friends dad as you gently tilted your foot towards his crotch. Johns breath caught in his throat, his rough hand grabbed your ankle and he looked over to you. "Be careful darlin', I don't want you doing something you'll regret." He spoke before moving your feet off of his lap so he could stand up.

You watched as John grabbed the now empty bottle of Whiskey and passed round the back of the couch, leaving the room and entering the kitchen. Thoughts raced around your head and after deciding on what to do you opted to go with the idea that would hopefully release the pulsing between your legs. Standing from the couch you shimmied your lacy underwear down your hips and let them drop to your feet before picking them up and walking over to the book that John was reading.

You dropped the flimsy fabric on-top of the closed book, grabbed your glass and walked past John to the kitchen as he made his way back to the couch. You poured another drink and barely had time to take a sip when heavy footsteps stopped at the doorway of the kitchen. “You forget something sweetheart?” John says and you smirk. Turning to face him you see your underwear gripped in one of his calloused hands.

“I didn’t forget anything sir.” You reply. He lets out a hoarse laugh and closes the distance between the pair of you. Your back is pressed against the counter and John is pressed up against your front peering down at you with a smirk.

"You're a little tease aren't you."

"Only for you." You reply and he laughs again.

"Beth'll kill you if she finds out, hell I think she'd kill the both of us."

"We best hurry up then whilst we have an empty house."

Lifting you up onto the counter John parts your legs and kisses the inside of your thighs before devouring your cunt. One of your hands found the back of his head and you ran your fingers through his hair as he continued to lap and suck at your clit, his rough hands that were delicately rubbing your feet moments ago now roughy grabbing at your thighs to keep you steady.

Your thighs threatened to trap his face as he made you cum with his tongue and soon you were jumping down off the counter and dragging John back to the couch. Shoving him down you dropped to your knees with a crack and made quick work at unbuttoning his jeans freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear. You licked the tip before drawing it into your mouth and using your spit to soak his shaft.

His hand is resting on the back of your head as it bobbed whilst you sucked his cock. You always assumed that since John was a tall man he would have the cock to match and you were pleasantly surprised to find that it was true. When your jaw started hurting from shoving his girth between your lips you stood and straddled his thighs wasting no time in lowering yourself down on his cock.

John lifted up your t-shirt and took a nipple into his mouth roughly sucking it as you bounced on his lap, his hands moved to grip your hips as your cunt swallowed his thick cock with every rise and fall of your body. Cumming on his cock John wasn't far behind you, his laboured breathing urged you to push through the burning sensation in your thighs to bring him to his high. Pushing you roughly against his thighs John held you in place as he came, pulsing thick ropes of cum deep inside you.

"Looks like you still have it in you old man." You laugh trying to catch your breath.

"I'll show you more of what an old man can do."

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Second Chance

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You’re invited to a Halloween party that Peter may or may not be at. Peter, your ex-boyfriend who you’re still in love with.

Squares Filled: ride for @spider-man-bingo

Author’s Note: this is for any actor who has played peter parker!

x

You’re not even sure if you want to go to this Halloween party. All your friends are going to be there but there is one person who might show up that makes you question if you should go or not. Your parents are out of town so your aunt is taking care of you even though you don’t need a babysitter. She claims she needs to get out of her house and spend some time with you but really, your parents are paranoid that you’re going to bring boys over and party for the entire time they’re gone.

Like you have the energy for that.

You would have stayed home in bed but your aunt kind of forced you to go to this party. She hates seeing you cooped in the house all day. When she heard about this party, she practically bought everything you’re wearing. Now that you’re in the car, you’re questioning if you should get out of it.

“Would you smile? You look like you’re about to cry.”

Maybe you want to.

“What if Peter is there?”

It even hurts to say his name.

“If he is, then you can either ignore him and have fun or you can talk to him.” Your aunt looks at you in thought. “There is no way you two are getting back together?”

“Aunt Jamie…”

“I’m just saying. That boy really loves you.”

That only makes this that much more difficult. You’re in love with him, too. You never stopped. But romance doesn’t always work out for every single couple no matter how they feel for the other. You’d never ask Peter to stop being Spider-Man for you, but it was straining your relationship. At first, you understood that he couldn’t always be with you, that he had to cancel on dates because of some emergency, and he had to put you second sometimes.

It’s just that every single one of those canceled dates and waiting up for him until the early hours of the morning added up. You couldn’t do it anymore. You hated staying up for him not knowing when he was going to come home. You hated wondering if he was even going to make it home. You hated seeing him with cuts and bruises because seeing him in pain put you in pain. He almost died twice, and you couldn’t handle the stress anymore.

You miss him like crazy but he can never stop being Spider-Man, so you can’t be with him.

“We’re not getting back together, Aunt Jamie. He made his choice. That choice wasn’t me.” Your aunt pulls up to the house that’s full of kids from school dressed in different Halloween costumes. “The party ends at midnight but I wouldn’t mind if you picked me up earlier.”

“I’ll let you know,” she chuckles.

Even as you get out of the car, you know she won’t. She wants you to be more social instead of being holed up in your room all the time. She’s gonna make you stay the whole time here. You smooth down your Tinkerbell costume after you shut the door, and you wave to her as you walk up the long driveway. 

Some rich kid’s parents are out of town so naturally, he throws a party in their absence.

The party is in full swing when you walk into the house. The place is so full of kids that you think you might be able to avoid Peter if he is here. He was never the one for parties so he might either be at home or out being Spider-Man. You push past the sea of people to get to the kitchen where your friends are waiting. You plus them equal the fairies of Pixie Hollow. The costume idea was yours and they all loved the idea of dressing up as fairies.

“You made it!” your best friend, Tiana, squeals and pulls you into you.

“Nice Iridessa costume.”

“Thanks! My sister helped to make it. I’m proud of how it turned out!”

“You should be! You’re hot!”

“You’re hot. Damn, that is a short skirt.”

“You know Tinkerbell. Always wearing short dresses.”

“Hey!” Your friend who is dressed as Fawn exclaims. “Let’s play beer pong!”

To think the fairies of Pixie Hollow are playing beer pong. The alcohol was provided by the rich kids’ parents who may or may not know a bunch of underage people are drinking it. Still, you’re not going to complain. Beer doesn’t get you drunk so you can safely play beer pong and drink a few beers without feeling anything.

After two rounds of beer pong, you’re buzzed enough not to care if Peter is here or not. Most of your friends have broken off and gone in separate directions, so you decide to give the game a rest to go find them.

“Y/N! Come join us!” you turn to see Tiana sitting in a circle of people with an empty bottle of beer in the middle. “Come on! Just one round!”

“Why not?”

You need to get over Peter and what better way to do it than kissing random strangers? You join the circle and Tiana grabs the bottle to spin it. She ends up kissing four guys over the course of the game while you have kissed none yet. Even two male best friends had to kiss. One was more into it than the other, but you think he was only like that to mess with his friend. The thing with this game is whoever spins it, gets to pick who gets to kiss the person who the bottle lands on. Tiana is hot and popular so every guy wants to make out with her. She spins the bottle for a final time and smirks when it lands on you.

“You have to kiss someone dressed as Spider-Man.”

This fucker. There is not a single person in the circle who is dressed like Spider-Man, so you’re confused why she would say that.

“There isn’t a Spider-Man here.”

Someone clears their throat behind you and you freeze in your spot. You turn to see Peter standing there in his real fucking Spider-Man suit. No one is the wiser about it since this is a Halloween party. Tiana has always been an advocate for your relationship with Peter. She’s always shipped you two together.

“He’s not even playing the game!”

“Sorry, rules are rules. Unless you’d like to take two shots.”

She knows how much of a lightweight you are when it comes to alcohol. You have no choice but to play the game. You get up and approach Peter who lifts his mask slightly so that only his mouth is exposed. He has a stupid grin on his face that you’d love nothing more than to slap off.

“You’re an ass, you know? No tongue.”

Peter pulls you in by your hips and plants his lips over yours. You part your lip from shock at feeling his lips after all this time, and he takes this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. He gets refamiliarized with the taste of you and now that he has, he doesn’t want to let you go ever again. He let you walk away once. That was his worst mistake. He pulls away from you only to throw you over his shoulder.

“Peter! Put me down! This isn’t part of the game!”

“It is now. Game over!”

Peter takes you upstairs to one of the bedrooms that have a balcony that overlooks the front yard. He lets you down and you push him away from you in frustration. He takes his mask off so you can look into his beautiful eyes.

“What are you doing? We’re broken up.”

“Not anymore.” You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off. “Look, I was stupid to let you go once. I’m not doing it again. I love you.”

You get tears at the thought of doing this with him all over again. To open up old wounds.

“You know how I feel about this, Peter. I love you but I hate not knowing if you’re going to make it back to me. I admire what you do and you should help those who need it, but I hate being put second all the time. Maybe that makes me selfish,” you sigh.

“It doesn’t. I’ll be more careful. I can’t promise to always put you first, but I’ll make a better effort to. I won’t always go out looking for danger. I just… I need you back in my arms. The bed gets lonely without you.” You truly don’t know what to say to this. He pulls his mask back on and uses his webbing to pull you into his body. “I know what will change your mind.”

You know exactly what is going to happen. You love it when he does this. You wrap your arms around his neck and he jumps off the balcony. You don’t hit the ground because he uses his webbing to swing away from the party. Your wings flap in the wind as if you’re actually flying. Peter keeps an arm wrapped around you, holding you flush against his body.

He swings you two to the top of the Empire State Building, and you gasp at the view no one else will get to see.

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right this time.”

You know he’s grinning even though you can’t see his face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, baby.”

x

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[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 2

Chapter two - Blueberry & Kidney Bean

Chapter 1

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.6k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. I tagged everyone who asked me to do it when I posted part 1. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

The store smells like dust and cardboard and old carpet. It's not necessarily a bad smell, it just doesn't live up to her memories.

She remembers the perpetual scent of menthol cigarettes and some kind of cheap men's perfume wafting through the air. The store used to smell like her dad and now it doesn't. And that just makes it all even more real.

Boxes upon boxes litter the room, filled with records. Some older, some newer. Guitars adorn one wall while the others are covered in posters from tours that happened long ago, some even before she was born.

There is something comforting about being here. It’s like stepping back into the past. Long nights watching Dad and his friends play their guitars after store-closing. Discovering new bands whenever a new shipment of records came in. And yes - she is the first to admit that in her younger years, she mostly chose the records by how cool the cover looked. 

It’s also memories of Dad getting caught up in the after-hours jam sessions and forgetting about her dance recital and that one time he threw a guitar at the window out of anger that a shipment of records got lost. It took him months to get the window replaced. She could probably still trace exactly where the crack used to be. 

Being here is very reminiscent in all the good and bad ways. But it’s a warped version of the past. One that’s laced with all the knowledge she has now. Like a movie that you’ve seen a million times.

“I don’t think pregnant women are supposed to be doing that!” 

Jamie’s voice cuts through the nostalgia-induced fog like a sunbeam through the clouds. And it also gives her a little heart attack as the only sound filling the room up until now had been her moving around and the soft tunes of an Eric Clapton record playing in the background.

“Jesus fuck! You scared me. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to startle pregnant women either and give them heart attacks.” 

He looks at her with those big expressive eyes of his and a comically overdone pout on his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously give me that.” 

He’s so quick to take the box of records from her hands (Y/N) hardly has time to process what’s going on. 

Quite honestly, his worry is a bit misplaced here but she appreciates the sentiment even if he might be a little overly cautious at that moment. It feels nice to be cared for. 

“You know I’m pregnant, not sick, right? I can carry stuff.” 

“Yeah but why would you if you got me carrying it for you?” 

He has a point, she has to give him that. 

“Fair enough. Those go over there in the corner please.” 

Jamie follows her order without hesitation and, after setting the box down in its designated place, his eyes dart across the room and light up with childlike wonder and curiosity.

“This used to be your dad’s place, yeah? It looks really neat with all them posters and shit. Like stepping into an old person’s mind but like a cool old person that buys you alcohol when you’re 15 and lets you watch horror movies when your mum said no.” 

Of all the adjectives in the world, (Y/N) wouldn’t ever think of using the word “cool” to describe her dad. He was creative and fun and eccentric and stubborn — but cool? 

Then again he was her dad and no one ever likes to think of their own parents as cool. Oh god, will their kid think she’s uncool?! 

“Uh yeah, the shop and the apartment right above us. He owned it, now I do. I’m trying to get it all fixed up and ready to be sold.”

“What? Why?” 

There is something to be said about Jamie’s face and his absolute inability to mask his emotions. Everything he thinks and feels is mirrored twice as vividly on his face. He’s all furrowed brows and pouty lips. 

“I mean — it’s a record store. People don’t really buy records anymore. Be honest, when was the last time you bought one instead of just streaming the music?” 

“Like two weeks ago.” 

“Fuck off, no you didn’t!” 

“Uh — yeah, I did. Olivia Rodrigo if you must know.” 

A soft giggle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. How fitting for Jamie to buy an album full of teenage angst. 

“Well, you’re one of very few people though. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to sell. I’d keep it open. Instead of selling instruments, it’d turn that part of the shop into a little stage with a coffee counter or a bar. Host open mic nights and shine a spotlight on undiscovered artists. But the world isn’t perfect and there is no way I can afford to turn that vision into reality so really there’s no use in letting myself get too caught up in it.” 

There is pity in his eyes and she hates it. She doesn’t want pity, not his or anyone else’s. Has seen enough of it, especially lately. If she had received just one more “Sorry for your loss” card in the mail from relatives she hadn’t seen in decades, she probably would’ve stabbed a fork in her own eye. Pity does no good to no one. 

“Anyway, Jamie. Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, it’s kind of necessary if we want to get this whole beings-friends-thing right, but uh — what are you doing here?” 

“Jesus, can’t a guy just come around to say hi to his baby? “ 

She thinks the way he says the word “Baby” in his thick accent is surprisingly and undeniably adorable. As if it ends in an “eh” instead of a “y”.

“By the way, they’re as big as a blueberry now.” 

And the way he’s keeping track of the baby's growth gets her right in the heart. For some reason, this seems to come so naturally to him when it all still feels weird and foreign and surreal to her. As if it were happening to someone else and she’s just a mere spectator. The idea that something as small as a blueberry will one day turn into a proper baby, a child, a teenager … a whole ass adult - is so wild to her. Almost incomprehensible. A person with their own feelings and dreams and personality. (Y/N) wonders if at any point in this pregnancy, she'll wake up and it'll all just make sense or if that only comes once she's holding the baby in her arms.

“That's cute. Doesn't answer my question though. What brings you here?”

A shadow of something flickers across Jamie’s face. Something unreadable and unfamiliar. Something that makes (Y/N) feel a sense of dread bubbling up in her stomach.

“I uh — I can’t do this.”

And there it is. That unfamiliar shadow is now a metaphorical atom bomb, a mushroom cloud of all that could have been and won’t be.

“Oh okay. I mean no, not okay. This sucks actually. You said you wanted to be part of the baby’s life and now you’re bailing? That’s a shit move, Jamie. You’re a right prick for pulling that crap.” 

“What? Oh no!” his eyes widen as the realization sets in. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well then what did you mean? Cause you’re truly giving me a heart attack right now. Second one for today. You really need to start working on your conversation starters.” 

She had given him the chance to opt out of being a dad, to not be a part of the baby’s life. It seemed like the right thing to do and, foolishly, (Y/N) had believed that she’d be okay with him doing just that. In this very moment though, she feels everything but okay. The idea of Jamie changing his mind is terrifying. 

Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you need something — or someone until you’re faced with the possibility of losing them.

“I mean, I can’t do this alone. I need to tell someone. All I keep thinking about is the baby and I feel like I am going to explode any second now. I know we can’t tell everyone yet ‘cause of — well you know, things going wrong and stuff. But I need to tell someone. You got to tell Rebecca and your mum, I think it’s only fair I get to tell two people as well, yeah?”

A sense of relief floods her. Starts in her toes and fills her all the way to the top of her head. He wants this — wants the baby. It’s not just her in this. It’s nice to know you have someone in your corner. It’s also scary. Because he deserves to know just whose team he’s on. And being vulnerable fucking sucks. 

“Jamie, that’s fine. Absolutely you can tell your mum.” 

“And Simon? You got two people so — “

“I didn’t though.” 

“Uh yes, you did. I know you told Rebecca.” 

“That’s right.”

“And your mum too”.

The silence that follows his words is deafening. Being vulnerable means also admitting guilt. It means owning up to all of your mistakes. Though we are not the sum of our mistakes, they are what help shape the person we become. And (Y/N) really doesn’t think they make her a very good one.

“And your mum too?” 

More silence.

“You didn’t tell your mum? Why not? “

To his credit, Jamie looks truly surprised and confused. There is no judgment there, just absolute bewilderment and that signature softness that rounds out his features and settles in his eyes whenever Jamie talks to her about something serious. Granted they’ve not had that many conversations but she hopes that softness stays. She hopes that maybe their baby can have those soft, gentle eyes too.

“I’m not sure. I think I’m scared. My mum and I have a — complicated relationship. I disappoint her, she judges me. You know, the usual.” 

“You think she’ll be disappointed because we're having a baby? Is it because of me?”

(Y/N) shrugs, breaking eye contact and fixing her gaze on the old grey carpet with the ugly 90s pattern. What if those soft eyes can look straight through her, see all the ugly parts and the insecurities? That’s too scary for now. Too much too soon.

“No, it has nothing to do with you. Think she’ll just be disappointed I didn’t get pregnant according to the timeline she dreamed up for my life when I was like 2 years old. Had it all planned out for me and I never stuck to it.” 

Jamie is quiet for a moment but (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look back up at him. She can’t deal with any more pity.

“Well if you want to practice telling a mum, we can start with mine.”

“Huh?” 

“You can come to Manchester with me if you want. To tell my mum. We’ll have one mum down then, makes it easier to do it a second time. It’s science.” 

Jamie has the fascinating quality of making you believe in his words just by being so undeniably charming and because he believes in them himself. He makes it look easy when it is everything but.

“And if things don’t go well with your mum at least you’ll know you have at least one mum you can rely on, even if it’s not your own. She raised me pretty much by herself so she knows a thing or two about babies and parenting and stuff.” 

The mocking raise of (Y/N)’s right eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who opens his lips to a silent gasp and clutches his chest with an overly dramatic gesture. 

“What? You saying I didn’t turn out perfectly?”

“No,” she laughs, a lightness festering in her chest. Like the first rays of sunshine after a cold winter that never seemed to end. Like a glass of wine after a long day at work. Like your favorite song on the radio at the exact moment you need it most. “I think you turned out exactly the way you were supposed to.” 

“Thanks,” Jamie says with that cheeky smile playing on his lips that makes him look a little younger than he actually is. Then he dares to wink at her and it’s a little annoying but also insanely charming. “Not sure you meant it as a compliment but I am taking it. Now when are you free for a trip up to Manchester?” 

(Y/N)’s been on a lot of road trips around the country when she was younger. She’s even spent a whole summer traveling Europe, partially by train but most of the time was spent stuffed in a Fiat Punto with 3 of her friends and all their luggage. It was stuffy, it was chaotic and it was immensely fun. None of those road trips ever involved a shiny black Aston Martin Rapide though. 

Or a famous footballer dressed in the ugliest lime green sweater (Y/N) has ever seen. 

“That’s all the luggage you got?” Jamie questions as he moves the black shades off of his eyes and sets them on the top of his head, holding back some of his hair. It shouldn’t work so well but it does. 

“I mean, we’re only staying for a night right? Why? Should I have brought more? How much did you pack?” 

He glances at her, then towards the car, and back at her. A sheepish look crosses his face before being replaced by his childlike cheekiness. “That’s confidential. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” 

“I got my ginger lollies, that’s all that matters really.” 

“You feeling alright?” 

“Mh, I’m good. Just pregnant.” 

His eyes drop down to her stomach for just a second before he nods his head in what (Y/N) can only describe as a mix of pride and satisfaction. “Yeah, you are.” 

That’s new. Well not new-new but it hasn’t happened since the day of the funeral. That tingly feeling in her stomach that has fuck all to do with the baby and everything with how the baby got there. Yes, Jamie is hot and (Y/N) is the first to admit as much but there has been so much stress and chaos and she hardly had time to think about anything but surviving and making sure not to completely lose herself in bad visions of what-ifs that her brain has had no time to process any feelings of arousal or lust. That look he just gave her though, that one made her remember it for just a second.

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Jamie’s voice shakes her from her daydream and brings her back to the real world, her eyes focusing back on the obscene car parked in front of her tiny apartment building looking so insanely out of place.

“Uh yes, I’m fine. I just — sometimes I forget that you’re famous.” 

Jamie regards her for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the bag from her hands. “I don’t. It’s fun. Now come on, let’s goooooo.” 

His voice is dipped in excitement and there’s a bounce in his step. If this is how the prospect of seeing his mother makes him feel and behave, she must be one lovely woman. Whenever (Y/N) thinks of her own mother her chest fills with tiny metaphorical icicles. Sharp and rough and painful. It’s all regret and judgment and disapproval. It’s “You gained weight”, “you look tired”, and “You should really look into getting a new job”. Daggers disguised as roses. Stabs right to the heart in the name of being honest. “I just care about you, because I love you, because I am your mother!” 

If there is one thing (Y/N) knows for sure, it’s that she will never ever find the need to resort to criticism and thinly veiled malice in order to show her child that she cares. They will know. Every single day. Because she’ll make sure to show them. Every single day in all the big and tiny ways a person can show their love. 

“Kidney Bean?”

“Kidney Bean. And apparently, the baby is sprouting webbed fingers and toes right now. Oh, and it’s starting to move!” 

“Can you feel that?” 

“No, not yet.” 

“It’s mental. Last week she was the size of a blueberry and now she’s a kidney bean. Kid’s growing up too fast.” 

It’s true. There is so much happening all at once and it’s almost impossible to really process it all. Suddenly there is a tiny spark of a human inside her. Not really a baby yet but a baby to her. And it's moving and developing and changing every second of every day. Fucking insane.

“Wait … you said she. You think it’s a girl?”

Maybe it’s the sunlight casting a glow through the windshield but (Y/N) is almost certain she can just about make out a blush dusting Jamie’s cheeks. 

“Dunno.”

“Jamie Tartt, do you want to be a girl dad?” 

He glances at (Y/N) through the corner of his eyes for just a moment but it’s enough for her to see the sincerity in him. This is something he’s thought about before. Learning new things about Jamie is fascinating.

“Ah,  it’s stupid, really. It’s — It’s dumb or whatever.” 

“No, come on, don't go shy on me now. Tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath. A moment passes then another. There is no rush. Sometimes silly thoughts are the result of harsh truths. 

“Told you my dad was a prick. Like the biggest piece of shit walking this earth, yeah? And I knew that all my life. Thing is I still tried to impress him. I just — I wanted him to like me so badly. Just felt wrong that me own dad didn’t care about me and that made me angry. And I kept that anger inside me for so long. Sometimes when I think about the baby and the future I am scared that if I have a son that anger will jump over to him. Like maybe all Tartt men are cursed or some shit like that. But if I had a little girl maybe that would make it easier for me to be a good dad. I don’t mind either way, obviously, but the idea of having a son scares me.” 

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with her so far and by the way he clenches his jaw and grabs onto the steering wheel just a little tighter, (Y/N) can tell this isn’t easy on him. It means a lot that he shares this part of him with her anyway. It feels like they are actually becoming friends. So opening up to him in return is only half as horrifying. 

“When I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I wrote a short story for school and I won an award. They did this big ceremony thing where the 3 finalists got to read their stories out loud for an audience and then receive their prizes. My mum didn’t show up, not sure if it was because she stayed longer at the office and didn’t care enough to leave on time or if she just didn’t feel like getting out of the house. Point is, she wasn’t there. When I came home that night I was sad, obviously, and I was also pissed. Because why the fuck couldn’t she take one night off to come see me succeed at something even if it wasn’t something she deemed worthy of praise. 

So I yelled at her and I’m sure I said some hurtful things. But I was so devastated and angry and I needed an outlet for once. She called me ungrateful but I was used to that, she always called me ungrateful. Then she looked at me with that look of absolute resignation and malice and she said that she hopes I have a daughter like me one day and that she makes me realize how hard it is to love me. 

When I think of the baby, sometimes I see a little girl too. One that I will love so much she never has to doubt it for a single second. And I will also prove my mother wrong. Because it will be so easy to love my little girl and it would’ve been so easy to love me, her little girl.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. Truly, (Y/N) had not expected for them to come out in an Aston Martin, on the way to meet her baby’s father’s mother but life doesn’t seem to care for plans very much these days.

Softly, as if to not startle her, Jamie places his hand on hers, squeezing gently.

“I think your mum is a right bitch.” 

“Thanks. I think your dad is a huge asshole.” 

“We’re gonna be better than them, right?” 

It’s not really a question. It’s more of a promise.

“We will. I know it.”

His hand doesn’t leave hers for a good long while. 

The nerves don’t hit her until they pull up to the quaint little house with the white front. There’s a rose bush to the side and some kids playing football just across the way. The nerves don’t hit her until Jamie puts the car in park but when they do, they hit her like a freight train.

“Woah, you alright?” 

“Huh?” 

“You look all pale and like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you have to puke?”

A chuckle falls from her lips at the absurdity of it all. In all honesty, she’s not met a lot of parents yet but the few she did meet were parents of actual partners. People she had been dating for a while. It was a natural progression of steps. This is all wrong and sideways and topsy-turvy. You’re supposed to meet the mum first and then get pregnant. 

Again with the life and the plans. 

“I’m fucking nervous.” 

“Hah,” Jamie laughs. The audacity of this guy. “You’re nervous to meet my mum? Why? She’s an angel.”

“Do you not know how intimidating that is? Like, if she was shit I wouldn’t care but she sounds wonderful and I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me. Desperately. And I can only imagine what she thinks of me already. Some floozy who gets knocked up and really just wants your money.” 

Before she even fully realizes what’s happening, (Y/N) feels Jamie’s hands on her cheeks, framing her face in warmth.

“Calm down, please. I promise it’ll be alright. My mum will love you, I know it. Probably more than she loves me. Actually no that’s a lie, but she will love you and she will love our baby. Promise.”

“She’s not gonna judge me for — you know. Getting pregnant even though we’re not dating or anything.” 

“My mum was married to my dad, worst person on planet Earth. Don’t think she’s in any position to judge you. It’ll be alright, trust me.” 

She hardly knows this man and yet she can’t help but do just that. Trust him.

The first thing (Y/N) notices about Georgie is her smile. A smile that is so familiar because it looks exactly like Jamie’s smile. Warm and radiant and true. A part of (Y/N) hopes that their baby inherits that same smile. Partially because it’s a really good smile and partially because maybe that could help Jamie realize that he is more than the sum of his father’s problems and mistakes. He is all his mother’s boy.

“Oh, I missed you, my baby.” 

Georgie wraps her arms around Jamie’s middle, getting swallowed by his frame for a moment. There’s no denying that part of (Y/N)’s heart breaks a little seeing how loving of a relationship these two have and wondering where she and her own mother went wrong.

And as it so happens with so many kids that have never been loved quite the way they deserved, (Y/N) can’t help but search for the problem in herself. 

“Yeah sorry for not visiting earlier. You know how it is with training and stuff.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I know my boy is busy being a star.” 

The words hold a slight mocking, never mean but in the way that only people who are close can tease each other. You know every word comes laced with deep affection, with pride, with love.

“And it’s so nice to meet you too. I’m Georgie.” 

It takes a second for (Y/N) to realize that Jamie’s mum is now talking to her directly.

“I uh — oh thank you. Nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” 

Georgie smells like mint chewing gum and floral perfume as she pulls (Y/N) into a hug. She’s soft and gentle and it’s been the first hug from a mother (Y/N) has received in quite some time.

“Sorry, didn’t even ask if you’re a hugger.”

“Oh that’s alright, don’t worry about it.” 

She’s not a hugger, never really was, but there is something about Georgie granting her some affection that isn’t all that bad. Maybe their kid can have at least one grandmother who cares and who isn’t completely disgusted by the idea of showing any kind of positive emotions.

“Jamie never brings girlfriends around so I’m a bit out of my element here if I’m being honest.” 

“Mum we’re not — she’s not.” Jamie takes a big breath before starting again “(Y/N) and I are friends, yeah? Told you about it on the phone.” 

“Right, right. Well, you don’t bring around a lot of friends either so same difference, really. Now come inside will you, I’m sure we got a lot to catch up on.”

Oh if only she knew how true that sentiment really is.

There are pictures of Jamie staring back at (Y/N) from every corner of the house and Georgie leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. Every wall and every shelf holds a memory of him at one point in his life. Gap toothed with a football in hand smiling, surrounded by a field of tulips arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, his teenage self smoldering at the camera with an even more questionable haircut than the one he is sporting right now. Oh to be loved in a way that every past version of you is being remembered.

As they reach the kitchen a sweet scent fills the room when a man clad in an apron turns around and faces them with a huge smile playing on his face. He has a dorky kind of charm to him that immediately puts you at ease. Maybe it’s just the frilly apron, maybe it’s the big oven gloves, maybe it’s the smile. Either way, (Y/N) thinks that if they take the news well, her kid might have truly lucked out on one side of the grandparents department. 

“Jamie, welcome home.” 

“Hi Simon, thanks, mate. Glad to be back. This is (Y/N).” 

“The friend, right.” Simon says and shoots Georgie a look that neither of them misses. Subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of his best qualities. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you too. It smells amazing in here.” 

“I found this new recipe for honey blondies. Not sure if they'll be any good but I guess we'll find out. If you guys want to go have a seat, I'll come bring them over.”

“Actually,” Jamie speaks up while nervously fiddling with his hands. “I was hoping we could have a talk before we do anything else. There’s something I need to tell you both.” 

Imagining the hypothetical scenario of telling your mum you’re having a baby and actually doing it really are two completely different things it seems. Gone is all of Jamie’s confidence and replaced with a whole lot of anxiety. 

“You're worrying me, Jamie. What has you acting so serious? Did you get someone pregnant or something?”

Georgie's words are followed by a thick awkward silence. It's heavy and suffocating and it makes (Y/N) feel uneasy in both her heart and her head.

It doesn't take long for Jamie’s parents to realize what his silence means. Everything communicated by not saying a single word.

“Oh, fuck.”

And there's nothing to add to Georgie's reaction. It's the exact same one (Y/N) had when she first saw those faint blue lines.

Of all the possible outcomes and ways this day could’ve gone, (Y/N) had not expected to find herself staring at not only a curly-haired Roy Kent but also come face to face with two very persuasive arguments belonging to no other than Keeley fucking Jones. 

“This is surreal.” 

The posters stare back at her all crinkled paper and bleached ink, as if to mock her silently. 

“Ah, well I told them to redecorate when I moved out, think they just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” 

A light dusting of pink settles on the apples of Jamie’s cheeks as well as the tips of his ears. This man can’t hide his emotions for the life of him. It’s quite adorable really. 

“Do they know?” 

“Does who know?” 

“Roy and Keeley. Do they know you have their pictures up in your room?”

“Well no and It’s not my room anymore, is it? ‘S not like I have ‘em hanging at home. Put these up ages ago.” 

A giggle slips through (Y/N)’s lips at his desperate attempt to talk himself out of this situation. 

“It’s okay, Jamie. I won’t tell.” 

“There’s nothing to tell, alright?” he responds in mock offense before sitting down on his childhood bed next to (Y/N). “Just liked boobs and football and those two were the best those fields had to offer, yeah? Can’t really blame me.” 

“Not much has changed has it?”

He shrugs his shoulders in response “Nah. Still like boobs and football but no way I’d put up a poster of granddad’s ugly mug nowadays.”

From the few times they talked about his job, including his teammates and coaches, (Y/N) was able to gather that Jamie’s relationship with Roy is something special. Odd, but special. Maybe that’s what happens when you end up working with your childhood idol. Either way, no matter how much shit he likes to talk about him, it’s clear that Jamie respects and admires Roy a great deal still.

“And uh — and Keeley?” 

“What about her?” 

“Is she — are you — how are things?” 

She still remembers that crestfallen look on his face on the day of the funeral. That infinite sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t put two and two together at that moment but later that night it all clicked. Keeley was the woman he was in love with, the woman who did not love him back. And while (Y/N) knows that she and Jamie are only bound together by happenstance and fate — if one chooses to believe in that, and that there is nothing romantic about their situation, it does sting a little to know that the man you’re having a baby with is in love with someone else.

“We’re good. We’re friends, think that’s all we’ll ever be. Her and Roy, they’re happy and I don’t want to ruin it for either of them. Keeley and I just were not right together.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” 

He nods his head, a small smile playing on his lips “Yeah, I’m alright with it. If I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the funeral then you and I wouldn’t have — you know, and then we wouldn’t be having a baby. Little Kidney Bean.” 

“That’s true. Your mum seemed excited.” 

“Hah, sorry about her. She can be intense.” 

Intense might be the understatement of the century. It took her approximately 2.3 seconds to get over the initial shock of the announcement and really process it before Georgie let out a scream of pure excitement and joy and wrapped both Jamie and (Y/N) up in her arms. She didn’t fully let go for a good 20 minutes. It was intense. It was also phenomenal.

“Don’t apologize. I am so glad she took it so well, Simon too. At least now I’ll have the certainty that my baby will have one set of loving grandparents at least.” 

“Hey,” Jamie says and nudges her shoulder with his “We’ll sort out telling your mum next, okay. I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. And if not we can always call up my mum for some more hugs and a pep talk. Whatever happens, you won’t have to do it alone. I promise.” 

For what is probably the first time in her life (Y/N) lets herself believe that there truly is someone else having her back, undisputedly and all the way. It’s unfamiliar. It’s a little scary. It’s also wonderful.

“Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate it, I really do. Think so far we’re doing alright, huh?” 

“I’d say so. Two sexy parents and a little Kidney Bean.” 

Their laughter echoes through Jamie’s childhood bedroom for quite a while longer until at some point it stills and gives room to soft breathing and quiet snores. The bed isn’t meant for two grown adults and really Jamie truly meant to sleep on the couch but somewhere between talks of baby clothes and childhood memories, eyes grew heavy and tired, and soon enough both of them are fast asleep.

Just them and their little Kidney Bean 

— and a curly-haired Roy Kent 

— and Keeley’s boobs.

taglist (@ me if you want to be taken off or added): @captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy

[mllersjoel]

you're obsessed

you're obsessed

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!actress!reader

Warnings: swearing, no use of y/n

Summary: jamie tartt fic where he has a huge crush on an actress and sees her at a richmond event and she flirts w him he’s really shy bc he likes her but they hook up after idk

Wordcount: 1.6k

A/N: didnt manage to write any smut bc this was getting way too long teehee :D general warnings for swearing.

writing comms are open!

“Oi, Tartt! Stop stalking your actress and give me some laps,” Roy yells, shaking Jamie from his reverie. Jamie is not stalking her instagram. He’s just not; because a stalker would have notifications on as they obsessively checked their profile at least four times every minute. Jamie is only checking once every five minutes, and he doesn’t even have her notifications on. So there. Suck it, Roy.

“Fine, don’t give yourself an aneurysm,” he mutters, taking a quick minute to stretch before he’s running around the pitch. He just has a crush. That’s all. A little one. He first saw you in some thriller that came out last month, and something about you had him hooked. Initially he thought it was just the character you played, a regular yet charming civilian, pulled into the crime world. After watching (admittedly, way too many) interviews, he realised it wasn’t the character. It was you.

You with your witty remarks and comments. The way you laughed good naturedly and poked fun at your costars. The way you were clumsy and scatterbrained, in a terribly endearing way.

It didn’t help that you were also gorgeous.

So, yeah. Jamie had a slight crush. It was fine, though, because you were currently based in Los Angeles (you were in a new Marvel movie) and had no plans of coming to the UK anytime soon. 

“She’s right fit, though,” Isaac says, nudging Jamie as he runs past. 

Jamie feels his stomach tighten with jealousy before he catches himself. Why was he jealous? He didn’t know you and you probably didn’t even know he existed. Well, maybe you did, because he was sexy and a hot football player. Did you even watch football? Would you watch it if you knew he was in it?

Jamie remembers hearing something about a parasocial relationship from Keeley and resolves to not think about you.

At least while he was training.

***

He’s spraying on cologne in the locker room when Keeley bursts in, all smiles and pep.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God!”

“Is everything alright?” Ted asks, breaking away from Coach Beard who as far as Jamie could tell, hasn’t said anything but is managing to have a full conversation with Ted.

“You will not believe who I booked for this years’ Gala!”

Roy’s ears perk up at this as he slides into the conversation. “The Muppets?”

“No, Roy,” Keeley says, exasperated, “not the fucking Muppets. Only the hottest new actress on screen right now!”

At this point, all the boys have gathered around Keeley, jostling each other and trying to see the screen of her phone. Jamie fights his way to the front, and when his eyes focus on Keeley’s phone, he’s pretty sure his heart drops into his stomach.

It was you. There. With your smile and your eyes and your name and a headline.

You were coming to their Gala.

You.

He feels his heart drop into his stomach. This couldn’t be real. Maybe it was a mistype, or someone accidentally said they scheduled you but in reality you were on the other side of the globe. It was faked. It had to be.

He broke away from his team, practically running back to the changing rooms. Opening up your instagram, he pulled up your story. There, you had reposted the announcement.

Oh. Oh fuck.

***

On the day of the Gala, Jamie seriously considers hiring a stylist rather than just going with his gut. He needs to look good. Tonight is most probably one of the most important days of his life. His favourite actress, coming to his club’s Gala. Maybe, if he plays his cards right, you’ll bid on him.

Wait. Who was he kidding? He’s Jamie fucking Tartt. Of course you’ll bid on him. He could wear a trash bag and you’d bid on him, because he is just that fucking sexy.

Right?

He shoots a quick text to Keeley, desperate for a second opinion.

Me:

[image0.png]

thoughts? Xx

Keeley:

Ur hot babes!!

Gonna knock em dead xx

Lose the tie u look like a prick <3

He takes one last look in the mirror, running his hands through his hair. Yeah. He’s gonna show up and be so cool. He’s so cool.

***

They’re taking pictures on the carpet, and everyone can tell Jamie is not all there. He barely tells the paparazzi to take pictures of his good side, following it up with “And that’s any side.” His eyes keep darting around, every scream and shout of delight sending his stomach in knots in case you’re the one to step out of the limousine.

Maybe you just won’t show up. Maybe you were already inside.

He can’t decide which option is worse.

When he’s at the end of the carpet, about to head inside, he hears whistles and screams, different from the ones before. These sound a lot more excited, filled with more adrenaline and anticipation. Or maybe he’s just projecting. 

He turns, and sure enough, you’re there.

Stunning. That’s the only thing he can think of. You smile beautifully at the photographers, working the crowd with ease. It was as if you were friends, had a solid rapport with them with the way you were conversing back and forth.

“Close your mouth. You look like a fucking basking shark,” Roy says, elbowing Jamie in the stomach.

He flinches back, giving Roy a shove in return. “Oi, what was that for?”

“You’re not gonna make a good impression with you gawking like a fucking idiot. Go say hi or something. Be fucking normal.”

Jamie sends Roy an affronted look. “I am normal, you old bastard. Just because we don’t act like how you did in the 1800s doesn’t mean I’m being an idiot.”

Roy just growls, shoving past him into the building.

Jamie takes a step forward to follow when a voice catches his attention.

“Hey! You’re Jamie Tartt, right?”

He turns on instinct, a winning smile already plastered on his face. “I’ll do autographs once—you.”

You raise your eyebrows slightly, waiting for him to go on. “Once I what?”

“You’re, um, you’re her.” He says your name, almost reverently.

Your grin widens, almost giddy. “You know who I am?”

“I follow you—” before he could say more, your manager rushes in behind you, ushering you inside. You wince at him, apologetic, before heading inside.

Jamie stands there, dumbfounded. 

I follow you?  That’s what he had to say? Now he really does sound like a stalker. He scrubs his hand over his face, groaning in disappointment.

He’s gonna make it up to you. He has to.

***

Inside, he sees he’s sat with Ted and Roy as well as a few other people and an empty seat next to him. He largely ignores his own table, trying to catch sight of you and not succeeding in the slightest. He huffs a sigh of annoyance, sliding into his seat.

Ted notices his glum aura, nodding sagely. “It’s the oysters, isn’t it? Because I know they have to try to make the flavour appeal to everyone but adding this much lemon is just downright insultin’.”

“It’s not the oysters, coach.”

Ted frowns. “The placemats? I was never really an eggshell white person myself but—”

“Jamie’s pining over an actress he thinks I don’t see him stalk on insta when he’s supposed to be running drills,” Roy cuts in, tired of Ted’s guessing.

“I’m not pining,” Jamie pouts, crossing his arms in a decidedly not childish way.

Before Roy could get another rebuttal out, the seat next to him is being filled, and once again he sees you, smiling at him. “Actresses are overrated,” you say, placing your napkin over your lap, “trust me.”

Jamie’s blood runs cold, convinced the universe is playing a cruel trick on him. Running into you is an absolute dream, he’d never deny that, but running into you with both Ted and Roy there? He may as well be taken out back and shot.

He must’ve been sitting there agape for too long, because before he knows it, Ted is reaching a hand over and giving yours a shake.

“Ted Lasso, it’s a pleasure to meet ya’. I absolutely loved you in that thriller that came out last June. Had me on the edge of my couch! And I know Jamie here liked it as well, he was bawling a right mess by the end of it.”

You turn to look at Jamie, and having the full force of your attention on him made him nearly choke on air. “Were you really?”

Jamie licks his lips, trying to gain some composure. “Bawling is sayin’ a lot, really. More like a reasonable cry.”

You nod along, clearly not buying it. 

“I’ve been keeping up with your games this season. The goal you scored against West Ham the other day was seriously impressive. You were practically miles away from the net.”

Immediately, Jamie perked up. “You like football?”

“Well, I’m no expert, but I definitely try to watch all your games if I can.”

Jamie leans in, feeling bold and taking your hand in his. “Richmonds games? Or my games?”

You shrug. “Depends on the hair.”

He laughs, leaning back in his chair, body turned towards you. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.

[luvrhischier]

never let go // trevor zegras

part 1 pairing: trevor zegras x reader

word count: 3.9k (i’m sorry i went overboard again)

a/n: jumps between povs, each part is labeled and split by long black divider though (if you don’t like this sort of thing, sorry <3), no use of ‘y/n’ again.

warnings: none (i think)

(him)

Trevor just stood there, his legs wouldn't move, no matter how badly he wanted them to. He wanted to run after you but he couldn't. From his frozen haze he saw Luke run out the door. That should be him running to you and he knew that.

"Everybody out! Party's over!" Jamie yelled. Everyone quickly walked out. Jamie looked over to Nico. “Can you make sure everyone who shouldn't be driving gets an Uber, I'll pay, I don’t even care anymore just please make sure everyone is safe and out of here." Nico nodded and left, dragging a still slightly drunk Jack with him. He would be no help to the conversation about to happen in the state he was in.  Now it was just Jamie, Quinn, and Trevor. Once the front door was shut Quinn forcefully turned Trevor around. He still looked shocked and a few tears had begun to run down his face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Quinn finally spoke up. Trevor opened his mouth to say something but no words came out.

"If you weren't my best friend I would beat the shit out of you," Jamie said through gritted teeth. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"

"She," Quinn pointed towards the door you had just walked out of, "is like a little sister to me and you just broke her heart in front of an entire party of random strangers." Quinn's voice was calm, too calm, it was frightening. "And you're not my best friend so I will gladly beat the shit out of you." He stepped forward but Jamie stopped him as Trevor finally spoke.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," he whispered. 

"What do you mean?! You went into this whole thing knowing you had feelings for her."

"What thing?" Quinn interrupted. 

"Do you wanna tell him?" Jamie crossed his arm. Trevor said nothing. "Are you really going to make me tell him?"

"We've been sleeping together," Trevor said softly. Quinn exhaled.

"How long?" He asked.

"Since my birthday," he paused, scared of how Quinn would react after he said his next words, "last year." Quinn saw red. Yes, you were old enough to make your own decisions, but he hated that this decision ended with you in tears and running out the door.

"You've been stringing her along for over a year?!" Quinn's voice got louder with each word. 

"No, I swear! I didn't think she felt the same way I did, and if-" Trevor's voice broke.

"Come on, Trevor," Jamie sighed. "You're dumb, but you're not that dumb. Everyone can see that she loves you and you love her."

It was quiet for a moment.

"You better fix this," Quinn spoke one last time as he headed for the door, he didn't trust himself to not punch Trevor if he stayed any longer. 

"She is the best thing that has ever happened to you, don't let her get away." Jamie walked away.

(you)

The first week after that night everyone gave you your space. Texts were your only form of communication, you didn't trust yourself to talk, you knew your voice would be coarse from all the crying. 

Trevor would call and text you everyday and every time he did you ignored him. Eventually you muted his notifications, you knew you should've blocked him but you weren't ready for that. 

────

The second week after that night you no longer had space. At least one of your friends were with you at your apartments at all times. These days were filled with binge watching cringy reality shows and lots of take out. You started to smile and laugh again. 

────

The third week after is when you finally left your apartment. 

On Monday, Quinn took you to the beach, complaining about how he was getting sand in places he didn't know sand could get into. You laughed as he got hit on, multiple times. He just awkwardly said 'thank you,' every time he was complimented. Once the, one sided, flirting stopped Quinn soon became your greatest enemy. When you got up to stretch your legs he took that as an opportunity to grab you and throw you into the water. Once you came out of the water you saw Quinn dying of laughter. When he saw the look on your face he ran for his life.

On Tuesday, Luke dragged you to an arcade. You beat him at air hockey and might have gotten a little too excited based on the looks you got from all of the parents with their little kids. He accused you of cheating saying 'You rigged this somehow. I should've won, I literally play hockey for a living!’ You just laughed and called him a sore loser followed by a laugh and, ‘Maybe it’s time you retire and I take your place. I do look pretty good in red.’ He just scoffed and walked off to the next game.

On Wednesday, Jack made you go to an amusement park. He said that the two of you had to go on every single ride. The day started good but soon Jack's face started to go pale. You said you two should probably leave but he refused. He said he was fine and that it was time for the big rollercoaster. As soon as you got off the ride Jack ran to the nearest trash can and threw up. You whispered a quick 'I told you so,' and Jack just gave you the middle finger.

On Thursday, Nico forced you to go on a hike with him, you hated this. He didn’t tell you how long the hike was going to be and you wanted to punch him. The hike was filled with you cursing at him, while he just laughed. It was worth it once you saw the view at the top. The smug look on Nico's face however, was not worth it. You jokingly said you would push him off the cliff if he didn't wipe that look off his face.

On Friday, Jamie just simply walked around town with you as you shopped, not complaining once, that night he took you to a drive-in movie theater that was playing your favorite movie. This might have been your favorite activity of the week. Just you and one of your closest friends laughing being a little too loud and getting told to shut up by the cars next to you, almost getting kicked out. 

You thought you would get to have a quiet night alone on Saturday but that thought went out the window when you heard a knock on your door. You opened the door and saw all of them standing there, a couple holding snacks and a few holding blankets and pillows.

"What is all of this?" You laughed.

"We’re staying over," Jack said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he then pushed past you letting himself in.

"Yeah, no, of course you can totally come in," you joked sarcastically.

"We know," Nico said, you playfully slapped his back as he walked by.

You watched as the blankets were dropped on the living room floor and the snacks were placed on the coffee table. 

"I don't have a say in this, do I?" You crossed your arms 

"Nope!" They all said in unison. You rolled your eyes playfully before joining them. 

(him)

The last three weeks had been absolute hell for Trevor. During those three weeks he barely saw Jamie or anyone else, he knew he deserved that thought. The silence and alone time gave him a lot of time to think. When he wasn't in bed, he was out driving. He never had a destination in mind, he just wanted to clear his head but, as if the universe was playing some sick joke on him, he always ended up at your apartment building.

That Sunday morning was no exception. He sat there for what felt like eternity before he noticed people exiting the building. He focused to see who it was and he felt his heart start racing once he did. It was Jamie, Quinn, Jack, Luke, and Nico. Quickly he ducked, thankful that the parking spot he was in was somewhat covered by a tree. After a few minutes he finally looked to see if the coast was clear. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

This was his moment. He could go up to you and finally explain everything, finally see you again, even if it was for the last time. He took a few deep breaths before opening the car door. Slowly, he walked towards the side entrance of the building. Once he got there he stopped and remembered, he had given your spare key to Jamie, he couldn't get into the building. He looked over at the intercom system and saw the button with your name. He obviously couldn't press it. You would turn him away immediately. He looked at the only other name that he knew.

Miss Bea. The old lady who lived across the hall from you. The lady who you would spend most of your free time with and the lady who always came over to your apartment on Sunday nights for dinner and card games. You both quickly became an important part in each other's lives. You were close, Miss Bea was like your grandmother and you were like her granddaughter. He knew that you had definitely told Miss Bea what had happened and he also knew that Miss Bea was terrifying when she was mad. With a shaky hand he pressed the button next to Miss Bea's name. He waited for a second before he heard her voice.

"Who is this? What do you want?" She asked quickly. Trevor froze and couldn't speak. "If this is some kind of prank or whatever you kids do these days you better get to running before I get down there." He knew that wasn't an empty threat.

"Hi-," his voice wavered for a second. "Hi, Miss Bea. It's-um-it's Trevor." He braced himself. 

"You have some nerve coming here!" She was almost yelling.

"I know, ma'am, I know." He stopped and ran his hand through his hair, he didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. It was silent for awhile. Trevor began to think she had walked away.

"Are you here to apologize?" She said curtly.

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered.

"Speak up I can't hear you. I said, are you here to apologize?" 

"Yes, ma'am," he said once again, this time loud and clear. It went quiet again. He thought that maybe she had just walked away as he just stood there for awhile. Soon the door in front of him opened and there stood the short but mighty, and scary, little old lady.

"You make her cry angain and I will end you." She pointed at him. "I know people. One call and they'll be here in a second." 

Trevor gulped and quickly nodded his head in fear. He had no doubt that she did in fact 'know people,' and he did not want to meet them. She let him walk in front of her and he waited to help her up the stairs with an arm held out.

"Don't get all gentlemen like now." She waved her hand shooing him away. He nodded his head before turning and making his way to your apartment.

Before he knew it he was standing at the door. With a shaky hand he knocked before he lost the courage. Time felt like it had slowed down. Soon the door swung open.

"Guys, I told you-"

(you)

Your stomach dropped instantly. There he was standing right in front of you. Quickly you tried to slam the door but he stopped it with his foot. 

"Wait!" You opened the door once again. 

"How the hell did you get in here?" You wanted to yell but you didn't. Before he could respond you saw Miss Bea walking to her front door with a little smirk on her face. "Miss Bea?!" You said in disbelief.

"Are we still on for dinner tonight, dear?" She asked in the most nonchalant voice you had ever heard. Your jaw dropped. "Honey, we talked about this, close your mouth or you're going to catch flies." She joked as she closed her door, leaving you alone with Trevor. You quickly closed your mouth before looking at the boy who had caused you so much pain.

"Can we please talk?" He whispered.

"I don't want to talk to you." You started to shut the door again.

"Then can you please listen? Just listen to what I have to say and if by the time I'm done you still want me to leave I will leave and I will never bother you again." You let out a sigh and opened the door, slowly.

"You have 5 minutes," you knew that was far too generous but, sadly, you desperately wanted to hear what he had to say. You stepped aside and let him in. You watched as he looked around your apartment like he had never been there before. All of the pictures of the two of you and the small little trinkets the two of you had collected over the years were tucked away in the back of your closet. There was no trace of him anymore. "You're wasting time. You’re 5 minutes started when I closed the door." You said as you crossed your arms. Finally, he turned to you, and for the first time you got a proper look at him. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was a mess, and his face wasn't as bright as it used to be.

"Do you remember that field trip we took back in second grade, to the aquarium?" He asked. You nodded your head, extremely confused as to why that is what he started with. He looked down at his hands. "You were terrified to walk through the shark tunnel, so I held your hand and promised that I would protect you." He chuckled but his voice was still shaking.

It took everything in you not to smile at the fond memory.

"That was the first time I felt it. Obviously I didn't know what ‘it’ was at the time. But when my mom picked me up from school that day I told her she had to take me to the hospital immediately. She asked what was wrong and tried to see if i had any injuries. I told her you gave me cooties. She just laughed and I remember I got so upset because I thought I was dying and my mom was just laughing at me. She finally asked me why I thought you had given me cooties. I told her that my tummy felt all warm and fuzzy after I let go your hand and it happened again every time you laughed or smile or looked at me. She laughed again and told me it wasn't cooties and that I would understand when I was older." He wiped his nose on his sleeve, you turned around and grabbed a tissue box.

"Here," you whispered softly as you offered it to him. 

"Thank you.” He wiped his nose before continuing. "Then in seventh grade there was that cheesy little winter formal and that little dickhead Tyler asked you to dance. Except it wasn’t even a real slow dance you both just stood there awkwardly with your hands on each other’s shoulders, stepping side to side.” You let out a quick and short laugh. Trevor laughed too. "I was so mad that he asked you before I did and that's when I started to realize that maybe I wanted more than just a friendship with you. You two started dating and at first I thought it wasn't gonna last because, c'mon we were in middle school, middle school relationships never last. But somehow you did and you lasted all the up to the end of sophomore year, which surprised everyone, especially me. You two finally broke up because you caught him cheating-"

"Okay, okay, you don't need to bring that part up," you muttered.

"And then somehow Tyler ended up with a broken nose..." he trailed off.

"And you somehow ended up with bruised knuckles,” you chuckled. A lightness began to fill the air.

"Hey, don't look at me, Tyler never said who did it." He raised his hands up in surrender. You could see Trevor's face start to light up again. “The end of senior year came and prom was coming up. You went on and on about how there was no chance in hell you were going. You turned down a dozen promposals. I was able to convince you to go with me because I promised I would stay by your side the entire time. I still had to drag you out of the house though. That's the night we had our first kiss, it was during a slow dance, a real slow dance, and we laughed because it was a complete cliché. We never talked about that kiss afterwards, we both acted like it never happened, and I hated that. It terrified me but that's when I knew 100%," he paused as he took a small step forward, and you let him. "That's the night I realized I was completely in love with you. I have been in love with you since before I even knew what love was. I still am and I will always be in love with you."

You didn't know when they started but you finally felt tears stream down your face. You stood there in shock. He felt the same way you did. He was in love with you. He has been his entire life. 

"I never acted on those feelings because I thought you didn’t feel the same and that you never would. I’m a complete mess and all over the place and you’re…” he paused. “You’re, you. Then my birthday happened and everything got so complicated. I should have told you that very first night but I couldn’t, I couldn’t ruin our friendship more than it probably already was. I need you in my life so I took you in whatever way that would keep you by my side. Which was fucked up and completely selfish," he whispered.

"But what about that night? You didn't seem to be in love with me then," your voice broke a little at the end.

"I thought you were mad at me. You were short on the phone with me and then your phone went straight to voicemail every time I tried to call and you didn't read any of my texts.”

“So your first thought was to hook up with some random girl?” You cut him off.

“No! I don’t know!” He stuttered loudly, regretting his choice of words when he saw your eyes filled with hurt. “Fuck! No! You make my mind get all jumbled up and I can’t think straight when I’m around you or even when I just think about you. I jumped to conclusions and I thought that everything was over, our friendship and our…whatever we became, and just the thought of that sent me into a self destructive spiral, I wanted to get you out of my head and I failed and I hurt you while doing so. I should’ve told you how I felt that night at prom. I should’ve tried harder, I know that now, and I should've fought for you. I should've ran after you that night.”

“Yeah, you really should have,” you whispered. Slowly but surely you could feel your heart getting put back together again with every word he said. You could feel your love grow the more he talked.

“I have been beating myself up everyday for the past three weeks because all I did was stand there and let you walk away. You are quite literally the best thing that has ever happened to me. I would give everything up if it meant you'd forgive me and that I could spend the rest of our lives making it up to you. I'd even give up hockey if you asked me to, I really hope you don't because I'm really not good at anything else." He was rambling, saying whatever thought came into his head. He went to continue speaking but you just laughed and closed the space between the both of you.

You grabbed his shirt and kissed him. You kissed him with everything you had. He stood there shocked for a second before he finally relaxed into the kiss, cupping your face with both of his hands. This kiss was unlike any of the kisses before. There was no rush, no roughness, there was just love. You could feel the love radiating off of both of you and you never wanted it to end. Sadly it had to. You had to breathe. 

"What was that for? I mean not that I didn't enjoy it, I really enjoyed it. I just mean does-" you interrupted him with another kiss.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" You asked as you pulled away. You wiped the few tears still left on his face and he did the same for you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his wrapped around your waist.

"I've been told that once or twice," he joked, all you did was laugh before bringing him in for a soft peck. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closed and face full of love and happiness. The two of you just stood there in silence for a moment, taking in and processing everything that just happened.

"Hey Trev," you waited for some kind of response. Which came in the form of a questioning hum. "You got the story wrong." You pulled away, and walked over to your couch, Trevor right behind you. You both sat down

"What do you mean?" He questioned.

"The aquarium," you looked at him with a smirk. "You were the one who was terrified to walk through the shark tunnel, not me." He looked at you like you were crazy.

"No I wasn't, it was you!" He argued. He leaned back against the couch and pulled you with him.

“Maybe you’ve fallen on the ice one too many times because I’m right,” you laughed, your laughter causing Trevor to laugh. You curled into his side and he wrapped his arms around you.

Once your laughter died down Trevor spoke up again.

“I’m so happy you forgave me because I did not want to fall victim to Miss Bea’s ‘people,’ that really would’ve sucked.” He shuddered at the thought.

You looked up at him and the scared look on his face caused you to smile bigger than you ever had before. He looked down at you and playfully scoffed at your smiling face before leaning down to softly kiss you again.

This is what you both wanted for the rest of your lives. Laughing until your ribs hurt, kissing like it was the last time, and all the good times and bad times in between.

It wasn’t going to be easy, and you still had a lot to talk about, but you knew, with every fiber of your being, that he was never going to let you go again, he was never going to let you walk out that door, and you were never going to let him do the same.

[midnightfictionlibrary]

Oh, Honey - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Content : jealousy, friends to lovers, a bit of violence, flirting, kissing

Word Count : 1.6k

Plot Summary : Jamie doesn’t know how to react when he sees you flirting with a West Ham player. 

A/N : More of my love, Jamie, there's a criminally low amount of Jamie fanfic---as always pls like and reblog if you enjoy <3

“Well don’t you look gorgeous?” You hear the voice before you see its owner, and you roll your eyes before picking your drink up from the bar and turning around. 

“And you are?” You deadpan. 

“Westley Smythe. But I’m better known as the star player of West Ham.” He quirks a smile at you and you try hard not to laugh right in his face. 

“You do know who I am?” You ask him, and he raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down as if there was no way he could know. 

“I’m Richmond’s athletic trainer. ” You watch the wheels turn in his mind, and you smooth your dress on yourself, flashing him your own brilliant smile. “I don’t really associate with West Ham.” 

He shrugs. “No one has to know.” He says, and this time, you do laugh out loud, actually tickled that this man was being so bold. 

But your laugh alerts your own star player, a certain number 9. Jamie’s jaw clenches when he sees you laughing with Smythe, and the grip on his beer bottle (a rare treat Roy allowed him) tightens. He feels Roy lean over, and he rolls his eyes in anticipation for whatever Roy has to say. 

“Bloody fucking hell, Tartt. Just tell the girl you like her.” Jamie can’t help but steal glances at you, where you’re chatting away with the West Ham player. And…are you enjoying his company? He thinks about you, how you move when a song you like comes on, the smell of your honey scented perfume. 

“I can’t.”

“Yes you fucking can.” Roy grunts, and with that he puts another beer in front of Jamie and wanders off to mingle with Ted and Beard. 

This leaves Jamie with admittedly, a lot to think about, even though Roy hadn’t said much. 

You keep a tight smile on your face, and you glance to the boys, noticing Jamie was watching you. Your face flushes and you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Even though Westley was definitely not your type, you decide you could maybe use him to make Jamie a bit jealous. 

For the past few months, it always seems like Jamie is on the edge of asking you something. There’s stolen glances, smiles that linger a bit too long. You even find yourself checking over him after games more often than other players. You and Jamie were friendly, even friends, but you couldn’t deny the extremely large crush you held on the Mancunian. 

You reach out and brush a light hand on Smythe’s arm, causing him to step a bit closer to you. You glanced again at Jamie, the muscles in his perfect jaw jumping at the sight of you and Smythe. You grin to yourself, angling your body so you’re facing away from Jamie. You felt maybe a little evil, but maybe it would push him to talk to you a bit more. Of course, you could talk to him, but it seemed like anytime you tried to flirt, Jamie was completely oblivious to what you were trying to do. 

You roll your eyes as Westley continues to drone on, casting a peek over your shoulder. Jamie was still watching you, but he was standing now. He sets his bottle on the table and skulks out of the bar, and you can’t help but smirk. 

The next day, you’re up in the box with Keeley and Rebecca, who you inform of your jealous-Jamie plan. 

Keeley grins. “I love it babes.” And Rebecca nods.

“Maybe it showed him what he was missing.” She suggests, and you point a finger at her, settling into your seat. You cross your arms and gaze down at the field but the huge monitor over the stands shows closeups of the team. You can’t keep your eyes off of Jamie, and Keeley leans in. 

“He looks grumpy, I think your little plan worked, yeah?” She grins, nudging you. You shrug, but secretly you were pleased. If he was jealous over you, surely that meant he liked you. 

The game starts, the usual fast paced back and forth making your head spin. You notice that Smythe has the ball, about to score, when suddenly -

“Oh my god!” You exclaim, standing straight up out of your seat. Jamie had slide-tackled the other player, knocking him down, causing Smythe to roll a little bit. Westley Smythe stands up and charges towards Jamie, who didn’t seem like he was going to back down, in fact, he was smirking, walking to meet Smythe. Jamie pushes Smythe hard, but before a real fight can break out, the referee interferes, gesticulating to Jamie. 

Finally, the referee pulls out a red card. 

Keeley and Rebecca sit next to you, stunned. 

You look up at the monitor and catch Jamie smirking, tongue out, cocky expression on display as he walks back towards the dugout. You sit down, slightly stunned. But also, slightly into it. You watch Roy shake his head at Jamie and send him into the locker room. You quickly stand up, making your way out of the box.

Your tennis shoes make a soft tap, tap, tap on the floor as you walk down the long, bright hallway to the locker room. You round the doorway and stop, right as Jamie looks up at you. 

“What the hell, Jamie? A red card? Not to mention, you could have hurt yourself and then work on your ankle would have had to start over.” You put your hands on your hips, moving forward towards him. 

“Oh sorry, are you worried about your little West Ham boyfriend?” He says, scoffing as he stands up, turning to face his locker. 

“Boyfriend? I don’t care about Westley.” 

“On a first name basis, huh?” 

You clench your teeth. He was going to be difficult about this. “Why do you even care?” 

Jamie shrugs, still facing away from you. “I don’t.” 

“So why’d you tackle him, then?” 

At this, you can see Jamie’s body tense. “He’s a bloody wanker, that’s why.” 

At this, you scoff. He was really going to stand in front of you and pretend as if you didn’t know what this was about. At the sound of your noise of indignation he turns around to face you. There’s a glint in his eyes and he steps closer to you. Very close. Noses almost touching close. He’s slightly taller than you, so he looks down at you. 

“Maybe I don’t like the way he was looking at you last night, yeah? Like you were a piece of fucking meat.” 

“I can take care of myself.” You assure him, biting back a smirk. You can’t help it though, a devilish smirk was playing on the corners of your lips. “Are you jealous, Tartt?” 

You expected him to smirk. You even expected him to maybe laugh, that beautiful smile on display. Instead, he licks his lips, quirking an eyebrow at you. “I think you know the answer to that.” 

“Then say it.” You challenge. 

At this, Jamie smirks. “Yes. I was jealous. You are smart, funny, and kind, and seeing Westley Smythe all over you made me want to tackle him on the pitch.” 

You’re a bit taken aback. You didn’t expect him to pile compliments on you, and your eyes soften. “Oh..” you breathe out. 

Jamie continues to gaze down at you, leaning in even closer than he was before, his lips hovering centimeters above yours. You watch, mesmerized, drunk in his presence. 

“Seems you might like having me jealous over you, yeah?” Jamie teases. “But that’s okay, as long as I get you all to myself.” 

You swallow, your eyes trailing to his lips. “You’ve always had me all to yourself.” You whisper, glancing up to meet his gaze again. But the look on his face is different. Where before it was smirking, sexy, teasing, now it was surprised and anguished. 

“Wh..what?” He manages to get out, and you kick yourself, believing you said the wrong thing. “Just how long have you been trying to make me jealous?” He asks, reaching up to gently push a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You shrug, suddenly bashful, cheeks burning red hot as he brushed his hand there briefly. You feel a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. He searches your face, a small, pleased smile playing on his lips. 

“Only since last night. I couldn’t take the tension anymore.” You whisper, and Jamie laughs softly. He slides his hand to the side of your face, lifting his other hand to mirror it. Cradling your face gently, he leans in. 

Before anything happens, his eyes travel from your lips to your eyes. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. Your mouth feels dry, but you nod, and he leans in, gently connecting his lips to yours. 

You kiss him back, feeling as if you were melting, and you slide your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. His hands leave your face and snake around your waist, holding you as close as he can. “You are as sweet as honey.” He breathes into your ear, and you shiver. 

“Oi!” You hear a booming voice yell from the doorway and you instinctively look over, still tangled in each other’s arms. There stood Roy, an eyebrow raised. “Not that I don’t think it’s about time the two of you kissed, but Ted wants to see you, Tartt.” 

Jamie looks at you, stealing another kiss before winking at you, following Roy out of the locker room door. You stood there, smiling and blushing to yourself. You guessed Jamie just needed a little push, is all. You couldn’t wait to continue what you started.

[its-time-to-write]

I AM RUSHING TO GET THIS IN!!!

Friends to lovers maybe with a disabled reader?? Maybe she's someone he knew from back home who he runs into at a diner she's working at now. Maybe she feels like he abandoned her and her life fell apart when he moved away?

ANyway love you lots!!!

warning: there’s a lot of parentheses (it’s a choice) and a lot of swearing (I do what I want)

reader’s dialogue/feelings are based off my own experiences so if u read this and are like ??? don’t worry about it. i’m just projecting. the chronic illness is unspecified.

LOVE U BABE

you’ll probably date her

It’s hard enough growing up in a council estate in a shit part of Manchester (although you’d staunchly defend there’s no such thing as a shit part of Manchester) but it’s harder with fucking chronic illness. It manifests is clumsiness (joint pain), fidgeting (widespread pain), and bruising (skin problems).

Not to mention the fucking tiredness.

School is complete shit all the time, and life is complete shit all the time too. 

Okay fine, not all the time, but a lot of the time.

There are bright spots in between flare ups, bright spots that consist of learning how to bake with Simon (Jamie’s stepdad) and petting Roy (Jamie’s cat) and watching horribly cheesy movies with Georgie (Jamie’s mum).

Oh, and Jamie. 

You’ve known Jamie since birth, probably, when your mum brought you home and Jamie sat down on the saggy couch, aged two, and asked, “When does it open its eyes?”

He took it upon himself to look after you, magnanimous in a way he would not have been if you were actually related to him (thank god). When he starts to get tired of you, he can go back home to his own room and his own mum and hug her tight without having to share her with anyone else.

When you’re three and he’s five, you get a diagnosis. Jamie says, “That’s shit,” when your mum tells him you can’t play, and you’re told that you echo him with your first swear. 

“That’s shit,” comes your tiny voice from the sofa, face down and covered in bags of frozen peas.

Your mum is too surprised by the first words you’ve said all day, that she a) doesn’t scold you and b) doesn’t catch Jamie as he slips by her into the house. He sits on the floor and starts to tell you about primary school and helps your mum when it’s time to put the peas back in the slightly-broken freezer.

It goes like that for years. 

When you’re feeling well, you kick a football around with Jamie. When you’re feeling poorly, he climbs the steps to your room and tells you things, anything at all to distract you from the pain ripping through your body.

It’s nice. It makes you feel, like, someone cares, almost? Or someone understands? Or maybe the world isn’t carrying on without you, that a piece of it does stop when you do, and maybe you aren’t entirely alone.

You first realize you like Jamie (like-like) when you’re twelve and it feels like ice-cold water has been poured on your head, but not exactly in an unwelcoming way.

A shock, sure, but a soothing one.

You don’t tell him, but you think he probably knows. He’s not an idiot, he’s had girls swooning all over him since he was eight. 

(And your mum knows, and she and Georgie talk, and Georgie tells Jamie to be extra nice to you and maybe a little bit careful not to be mean about it.)

He carefully slips on your small bed when you’re fifteen and he’s sixteen (almost seventeen, but it’s the one time of the year when you’re only a year apart) and balances on his side so he can look at you.

“You’ll be alright?” he asks, and you don’t have to ask what he’s talking about.

He’s going to play for Manchester (City, not United, and not the Premier League Team), and it’s all you’ve been able to think about.

You don’t say anything, so he gingerly pats your head. It messes up your hair, but it also feels like tiny electric sparks are shooting through your body (not the pain kind).

He lays there for a long time, whispering about secondary school and football and making enough money to buy houses for everyone he’s ever loved, you included.

(He promises he’ll call all the time.)

—

He does call, until he doesn’t.

Some days are good, some days are bad, and now the bad days feel like they’re your fault.

“You’re overdoing it,” your boss says, “You need to slow down or you’ll be out sick tomorrow.”

You bite back the words I’m doing my fucking best, and just nod. Fuck him, and fuck this. You can work just the same as everyone else, pain be damned. There are fucking bills to pay and yeah, this shit hurts, but what the fuck are you supposed to do. Benefits aren’t enough at the moment, and it’s been a solid two years since you’ve given up on waiting for a knight in shining armor (even if that knight is in the Premier League now, just like he always swore he’d be).

Your boss is fucking right the fucker, but you push through on Friday (it’s fucking shit) and crash on Saturday (it’s even more fucking shit).

Your mum places bags of frozen fruit on your joints, rearranging the pillows on the floor. You’ve long since outgrown the couch, instead needing more space. Your dad moved the coffee table, saying, “It’s on its last legs anyway,” and the space you called a living room now became a treatment room of sorts.

Georgie and Simon come over all the time for family dinner (potluck-style) and they are comfortable enough step over you or sit down on the floor to talk.

It sounds worse than it is, but when they’re in the flat it feels better, all warm and glowy, like things are right.

Nights are the worst, with the moving around trying to get comfortable, so you’re awake bright and early on Sunday morning. Early enough to sit on a bench in front of the estates, bundled up in your duvet and puffing cold air out into the sky.

You hear footsteps splashing down the tunnel, someone on their way home after a long night. Or maybe it’s one of the many kids who like to sneak out to play footie in hopes that they’ll be the next Jamie Tartt.

He’s not that great, you want to tell them, except you don’t even believe it yourself. He is that great, he’ll always be that great, and you should have fucking known that he was going to fuck off and fuck a gorgeous, carefree model and not you. 

(Not that you want to fuck him. Well, you do, but you also want to, like, hold his hand.)

It was always going to end up this way, you should have known not to actually have real feelings for him, you should have left it at a childhood crush and not let yourself believe something could actually happen.

The footsteps pass you by, and it’s a man in a baseball hat and an awful silk-print tracksuit carrying a Gucci travel bag.

He’s out of place here, and you wonder if he’s lost. But no, he strides up to Georgie and Simon’s door like he owns the place, pulls out a key, and walks right in. It’s only after the door swings shut behind him that you realize it’s Jamie.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, clouds accompanying the words.

(You won’t admit it, but the surprise has rebooted your system a little bit, aching limbs forgotten for a moment.)

—

“This is shit,” you say as you lean on your fucking cane of all things. “It’s one thing if it’s Simon and Georgie, it’s another fucking thing if it’s Jamie fucking Tartt.”

“That’s a lot of fucking fucks,” your father says sagely, ignoring the glare you send his way and saying ow as your mum swats the back of his head.

“It’s only two fucks and one shit,” you tell him. “And I’m not going.”

“Then I’ll tell them to come over here,” your mum says placidly. 

Absolutely not. Also-fucking-lutely not.

“I am going to my room,” you say with dignity, turning to go back up the stairs.

Your dad waves, the prick. “Have fun,” he says helpfully. You flip him off without looking, and you know for a fact he’s doing it back. You know he’ll be up in an hour with a plate of dinner and sneak you early desert.

There is no fucking way you’re seeing Jamie after two years like this.

The cane is a relatively new development and sure, it’s helpful with walking sometimes, but a cane? The fuck were the doctors thinking when they suggested this? You’re barely twenty, not a damn convalescent. 

By the time you make it to your room, the doorbell’s ringing and voices are filling the flat. You reach for your bottle of pills and carefully tap the right amount into your hand (even though you know there is no drug on earth to calm down your traitor heart).

You lay down flat on your back with no immediate plans to move. You find your playlist and slip an earbud in, letting the music take you somewhere else. Somewhere where you don’t hurt for no reason, where you can focus like you’re supposed to, where you aren’t so damn tired all the time.

There’s a tap on your door.

“Come in,” you call to your dad, except the door opens and it’s Jamie, no longer in his stupid outfit from earlier, but in a nice jumper that you think might be Simon’s.

He smiles like he didn’t abandon you and sits down on the floor. You hand him the other earbud (it’s better than talking) and let Stevie Nicks croon in your ear.

“How’ve you been?” he asks (the prick) and you have half a mind to ignore him. 

“It’s been two years,” you remind him. “Try again.”

Jamie looks stricken. “Right, yeah, I know, it’s just- I’ve been busy.”

“Yup,” you reply. “Me too.”

(The cane is leaning on the wall by the door, and you need Jamie to not notice it.)

Jamie points to the cane. “That’s new.”

“Yep,” you say because it’s not the same as yup. It has a different vowel. It’s a different word, you’re having a civil conversation, your brain is making sentences just fine.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He sounds like he means it, which is worse. “I went through some shit, you know? It don’t excuse it, but… got a new gaffer, Keeley dumped me, then I got sent back to City right when I were getting better. It’s been shit. I’ve been shit,” he corrects.

Your arm’s falling asleep so you shift, trying to stifle a groan.

Jamie’s up in a moment, all concern. “You alright?”

“Clearly,” you gasp out as savagely as possible. “Fuck off, alright? I don’t need your pity, not now, so go find some other charity case.”

Fucking flare-ups. Fucking Jamie. Fucking chronic illness and its fucking lack of a cure.

Jamie looks like he’s been slapped. To be fair, you would if you could get in the right position.

“You’re not charity,” he says, and unfortunately (and again) he sounds like he fucking means it.

“Okay,” you say. “That’s fucking mint. Thanks for staying such a good friend all these years, it’s been real fucking fun. I’ve got to lie here in discomfort, so I imagine you’ll be leaving now. Goodbye.”

Jamie stares at you a moment, then leaves.

—

It’s a good day. It’s a good day and it’s raining and you don’t even care because it’s a good day. Nothing can ruin it (this isn’t a premonition) not even stupid Jamie showing up out of nowhere.

(It’s a little bit of a premonition.)

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says when he turns up in his mum’s kitchen, an hour before he’s supposed to be home. You’re supposed to be long gone by now, but you and Simon have cheese pinwheels in the oven that aren’t done for another twenty minutes, so now you’re stuck here until then.

“Fucking mint,” you say, just like the night before. Simon freezes but Georgie just rolls her eyes. 

“We’ll be in the other room, loves,” she says. “Jamie, don’t be a fucking idiot.”

You tell him, “I’m having a good day, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t fucking ruin it.”

“You’re not a charity case,” he says, and you think maybe he is broken, but like a record is broken, not like a teacup.

Jamie says, “I weren’t lying about going through shit,” and you snap (like a rubber band, not a bone).

“Big fucking deal, Jamie, you’ve been going through shit since you were six years old. I’ve been going through shit too, in case you didn’t fucking notice. It’s not an excuse to be a shitty person or a shitty friend,” you burst out.

“I didn’t say it as an excuse, it’s just a fucking reason,” Jamie shouts back. “Jesus Christ, you’re not the only person with fucking problems! You’re allowed to be mad shitty sometimes, I didn’t ever complain, so why’s it fucking different for me?”

You open your mouth to tell him why it’s fucking different, except you don’t actually have a reason. How many times did you sit with him as he iced his knee, or his face, or his arm while you iced your back, or your chest, or your legs?

Pain is pain, your fucking government-issued therapist had said. And shit if she isn’t right.

“You abandoned me,” you reply, voice small. “You left me for Keeley and I wouldn’t have minded, I really wouldn’t have. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Jamie rubs his face with a sigh. “Didn’t know how to talk to you, after. I knew you liked me since we were kids and I liked you too, so it felt fucking… weird. Dunno. But, I was with her because it was what I was supposed to do and she was mad fit and fucking funny. I’ve had a crush on her for fucking… ages.”

“Right,” you say, feeling one millimeter tall, “I get that.”

Jamie shakes his head and says, “Nah, you don’t.” (The fuck does he mean? He can’t read your mind).

“You don’t get it,” he continues. “Had a crush on her, didn’t I? Not the same as you. You were proper in love with me, and I…” he trails off.

“He was proper in love with you too,” comes Georgie’s voice.

Jamie turns bright red and you do too, and it’s like you’re kids again and he’s in your bed and you’re trying not to think about how close his lips are to yours.

“That’s… well, that’s…” You try and fail to come up with the right words.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, still blushing. “Yeah, suppose I was. Couldn’t do anything about it, then. Could do something about it now. If you’ve forgiven me.” He says it casually, like he won’t mind if you tell him to go away out of his own mum’s house and never return, when in reality he’ll burn up and die if you do.

“I will. I do,” you say. “I’m sorry too, I am. I can be a prick sometimes.”

Jamie shrugs, but he’s smiling a little. “I’m a prick all the time, love. Fucking… fucked childhood or some shit.”

“Some shit,” you echo. “So, proper in love with me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “Proper. Wrote my first name with your last on every bit of paper I could get me hands on, didn’t I?”

“Fuck off,” you say with a grin.

“It’s true,” Simon shouts from the sofa. “Found some bits when I was cleaning one day.”

Wait. Simon didn’t move in until Jamie was a teenager. That means… 

“Oh my god, were you fifteen when you were writing that? You weren’t even a kid anymore! What the fuck Jamie, you had it bad!” you tease.

“Fuck off, it was just a stupid joke,” he says defensively.

“Uh huh, sounds like,” you say as you go to wrap your arms around him. “You liked me.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, leaning down to kiss your head. He’s never going to fucking live this down.

[familyvideostevie]

october sixth

day six: james potter james brings you to a campfire with his friends | fluff! james being flirty | 1.1k

It’s a bit of strange magic that you haven’t met James’s friends yet. Not officially, anyway. In passing, sure, and James has told you all about them. He talks about the boys and their antics constantly and assures you that the girls will adore you. It’s only a matter of time before you all get together.

Not for lack of trying, of course. But Remus was out of town and then Sirius had the flu which he gave to Marlene and then everyone was busy with an old schoolmate’s wedding and you were swamped with work and it’s been almost three months since your first date and you still haven’t been properly introduced.

It doesn’t bother you that much. In fact, you’re pretty sure it bothers James much more. “I just don’t want you to think I’m hiding you,” he says. “It’s bloody weird that it’s worked out like this.”

The fix comes with the change of the seasons. Lily’s parents have a country house and invite everyone for a weekend of bonfires and warm drinks and general lazing about.

“A country house, James? Really?” you say when he tells you. He shrugs.

“We go every year. You’ll love it.”

So you agree. It’s not until you’re literally about to turn into the drive that the nerves hit you all at once. Your leg bounces in the passenger seat of James’s car and he puts his palm on your knee to still it.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks. “No harm, no foul.”

“Of course I do,” you scoff. “We’re almost there, anyway.”

James grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. “I’d turn around right now if you asked,” he says. “Seriously.” His dark gaze is steady and warm.

“I will not ask that,” you say. “I want to meet them. I just —”

“They’ll love you,” James says firmly. “They know all about you and they are just as offended that this hasn’t happened sooner. They all blame me, actually.”

He turns off of the long road and the house emerges in front of you like a fairy tale. It’s a country house, sure, but it’s clearly large and nicer than anything you’ve ever seen.

“I hope you’ve only told them good things,” you say. James turns off the car and allows you to stall for a few moments.

“No, I’ve told them how you snore and leave your kitchen cabinets open all the time,” he deadpans. You laugh and he grins. “Have you got your silly bag?”

The tote at your feet is full of things you’ve brought with, despite James’s protests. Licorice for Sirius, cider for Remus, Lily’s favorite biscuits from town. You made sure to have a little something for everyone even though your boyfriend assured you that buying their loyalty wasn’t necessary.

“They’re already on your side since you put up with me,” he’d said.

But now you just nod. James gives your hand one last squeeze. “They’re going to love you,” he says. You let yourself look at him, really look at him in the way you know he enjoys. He looks excited, almost boyish. Fall suits him with his sweater and waxed jacket, a hat tucked into his pocket. His hair is a mess and his glasses need to be cleaned.

You adore him.

“Let’s do it.”

You arrive at the front door to a flurry of activity. Everyone spills out and there are cries of your name and hugs and you hand off your items, feeling a bit shy.

“My god,” Sirius says, looking at his licorice. “She’s perfect, Jamie.”

Remus thanks you with an easy smile for the cider and Lily actually screams when you pull out the biscuits.

“She’s a keeper, Potter,” she shouts. “If you ever want to ditch him,” she says to you, “you’re welcome to. You can hang out with the girls.”

You get pulled from James and meet Dorcus and Marlene and they take you up to your room. The sun has almost set so they tell you to put some more layers on and come down to the bonfire when you’re ready.

“See?” James says as he spills into the room. He tosses your bags on the bed. “They love you more than they love me.”

“I am rather charming,” you say. He laughs and kisses you once, twice, three times. He backs you up against the door and you have to push him away. “They’re expecting us at the bonfire, James.”

He pouts. “Fine,” he says. “If you insist.”

The evening is a fun one. There are jokes and stories and games, everyone drinking to stay warm and snacking on junk food.

You wander back from a trip to the bathroom to find that the seats have reshuffled, the conversations moved. James waves you over.

He’s bathed in the light of the fire, the flames making the lenses of his glasses shine in the dark. The bench he’s on has no more room but he grins and pats his thigh.

You raise your eyebrows. Really? He winks.

You do as he asks and perch on his thigh, knees smushed into his other leg. He wraps his arm around your back to keep you from falling if you lean too far. Dorcus is telling a story about some adventure she and Marlene went on last week, so no one really looks at you.

James tugs on your ear. You lean down and his lips brush against your skin. “This is nice. Are you having fun?”

You nod. “I am,” you say into his hair. “They’re lovely.”

“Thank you for coming.” You know James is mostly happy-go-lucky, pleased as punch to do anything, a real sunshine boy. But you also know it has bothered him immensely that two important parts of his life have been separate until now. He’s worried endlessly that you think he’s not keen on your relationship despite your assurances otherwise. So you are glad that you’re here, even if you were nervous at the start. You just want him to be happy.

He kisses your cheek until you turn your head enough for him to capture your lips. You can’t wait to be in his arms in bed tonight.

“Oi!” Sirius yells. “Stop canoodling. It’s obscene.” He’s teasing, obviously, but you tuck your face into James’s neck anyway.

“Aw, let them,” Lily says. “You’re just bitter you’re single as fuck.”

“Hey!” Everyone laughs. You feel James’s chuckle more than hear it and you put your palm on his chest. His heart is beating steadily. You can hardly believe he’s given it to you.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae since u said u would be willing to do an ED reader here's a lil idea for James or tasm Peter but them with a gf who had a really bad ED before they met (he doesn't know) and she starts to relapse and he thinks she's just too stressed to eat or something (idk u can pick how the topic comes up) and just her telling him and him comforting her (this is a bit self indulgent bc idk how to tell anyone I'm dating that I'm struggling)

Hi lovely, thank you for your request!

cw: discussion and depiction of eating disorder, anxiety

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 916 words

You don’t seem much up for talking at dinnertime. Which is fine. James can talk for the both of you. 

He prattles on about Sirius’ one-way rivalry with the temp at his work while you cast him half-hearted, flickering smiles and push your food around your plate. He’s made sesame tofu, a first for James but he thought it turned out all right. His plate is clean, whereas yours is all mixed up but he’s fairly sure you’ve only eaten a couple of green beans. 

You don’t appear to notice when he finishes his story. Your fork seems almost limp in your hand. 

“If you don’t like it,” James says lightly, “I don’t mind making you something else, lovely.” 

You look surprised, then guilty. “No, sorry, it’s good.” 

It’s not like you would know, but James isn’t cruel enough to point that out. Aside from his own ego, he has other reasons to suspect his cooking has little to do with this. 

You’ve been strung up tight, lately. There’s a lot going on at work, some conflict with your boss you don’t really want to talk about, and drama in your family you want to talk about even less. James has tried to make home as comfortable and easy for you as he can, but understandably you’ve grown withdrawn, seemingly exhausted all day long. He wishes he knew how to do more for you. Wishes he could cast a bubble of pure goodness to put you inside so the only things that could get to you were the lovely things you deserve. 

“I know you’re stressed,” he says, gently as he can, “but you’ve got to eat, you know? It’s probably cold by now, you could have something else if it’s easier.” 

Something painful twinges in your expression. James reaches for your hand on instinct. 

“I get that you’ve got a lot going on, angel. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but we could.” 

You sigh. “No, it’s…I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking, Jamie.” 

James frowns, but forces himself to stay quiet. He has the familiar sense that all he’s doing is putting his foot in his mouth. 

After a minute, you say quietly, eyes lingering to the side of your plate, “I haven’t always been able to eat properly. It’s been…I’m a lot better about it than I used to be, but it’s still difficult sometimes. Like now.” 

Your hand feels tensed inside of James’. His heart has begun to ache lowly. James thinks he knows the term for what you’re trying to tell him, but he’s not about to lob it at you now, not if it could only make you feel worse. He tries comforting you the surest way he can think of, smoothing his thumb along the side of your hand. 

It at least seems to relax you enough to say more. “You’re not too far off, I guess, because it is sometimes worse when I’m anxious.” You glance up at him tentatively, an attempt at a smile on your lips. “Food’s just a bit more difficult for me right now.” 

“I’m sorry I brought it up like that,” says James, earnestness aching in the back of his throat.

You lift a shoulder. “How could you have known? Sorry I haven’t been eating your cooking.” 

“That’s not your fault, sweetheart.” Your gaze flees his again. Guilt and shame quiet James’ voice. “I’m sorry, I thought you were only stressed.” 

You give a little laugh. “I guess I am stressed.” 

“Yeah, and for good reason, but…can I hug you?” 

You nod, and James gets out of his chair, bending awkwardly to get his arms around you. Your fingertips press into the muscles of his shoulders. 

“It’s not quite so simple as stress, though, is it?” he murmurs into your shirt. 

He feels your chest contract with a sigh. “No,” you admit. 

“What can I do to help?” 

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do, Jamie.”

“Not accuse you of not liking my cooking, though, surely.” 

Another little laugh, this one seemingly more genuine. “Yeah, that would help a bit, actually.” 

James worries about smothering you, backs up enough to see your face. His hands want to go there, too, one for each cheek. 

“Please tell me if you think of anything,” he says. You don’t agree but don’t look away from him either, which James figures is about as good as he’s going to get. “Would it be any easier if we ate in front of the telly?” 

You chew your lip. “It might, yeah. I’m not sure.” 

“You don’t have to make any promises,” he assures you, taking up your plate and bringing it into the kitchen. “Do you want me to reheat this for you? Or we could have something else?” 

You linger at the edge of the kitchen, fingers bundled up in your sleeves. “I’d like to try to finish that, if that’s okay.” 

“Of course it’s okay, m’love. More than okay.” James presses some buttons on the microwave, then turns to you, requisitioning you for another hug. He kisses your hair. “Thank you for telling me.” 

Your voice is soft. “Thank you for listening.”

He scoffs, squeezing you around the middle so that you squeal. “You make it sound like a chore. Don’t be so ridiculous.” James presses another kiss to your hair before releasing you. “Go find something good for us to watch, sweetheart, I’ll be there in a minute.”

[riddles-n-games]

Friends Don't Kiss Like That

A/N: Hello friends! Here it is, the long awaited fake dating fic I've teased since March. I'm so sorry for the wait, this fic took too long to truly develop in my head and while I had fun, I'm mad I didn't get it out sooner. Enjoy!

“-and then?”

“And the-what do you think I did, Mystery Girl?” He eyed her smugly, the bastard, and tapped the side of his head. “Hmm? Use that smart brain of yours.” 

“...Jamie.” There was warning in her voice. Her patience would not be tested today; Xander’s experiment in robotics club already did that. But Jameson’s eyes were alight with mischief and there were the beginnings of a smirk playing at his lips.

“Then… I told her off.” 

Avery frowned at him, giving a look. The look; Alisa taught her well. It did the job and the younger Hawthornes were secretly afraid at how frighteningly accurate it was. As though it was Alisa herself. “No, you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.” 

“...”

“Jameson! Seriously, tell me you didn’t.” She looked at him shocked, hand on his shoulder as he shook his head with an amused huff.  “Jamie, I’m being serious here!” She swatted at his chest. The boy was asking for it and trouble was the only call he always answered. Apart from hers, of course. And his brothers, too, but that was a given. 

He laughed. “Ok, ok, MG. I didn’t do it… or did I?” 

Avery stopped beside him, crossing her arms and sighing exasperatedly as she waited for his laughter to subside. A moment later, he stopped and looked at her, grinning cheekily. For some reason, her mouth went a bit dry. It was unfair how infuriatingly handsome he looked. Wait, where is this goi-

“Turvy, you okay? Aves?” Nicknames; his way of coaxing her out of her thoughts and in rarer cases, expressing his concern. She blinked out of her trance and smiled at him.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She watched as his semi-concerned expression morphed into a playful smirk again. Ever the chaotic chameleon.

“Hold on. Are you checking me out? After all this time, the moment has come. I finally meet the standards of Miss Not A Chance to get a look over. My day is made.” Rolling her eyes as he let out another lighthearted laugh, she put a hand on his arm and pulled. 

“Come on, let’s go. Let me walk you to your next class before you take another wrong turn to a stairwell that conveniently leads to the roof. Actually, you haven’t even gotten your textbook yet so let’s head to your locker first which just so happens to be on our way.”

But as she took a step, he tugged right back and twirled her into him. He leaned in close, whispering, “It’s okay, Heiress. I don’t mind. I know I’m good looking and that leaves some girls flustered.” It was in the silence that followed that she knew with certainty he had a shit-eating grin spreading slow and steady across his face, thinking himself so clever. Instead of rolling her eyes like she usually did, she shivered, feeling very affected for some reason. Her heart beat faster at the subconscious reaction. 

When he moved back, the sudden tension in the air broke and she could breathe again, taking a quick look around the hall. Thankfully, there weren’t that many students, just a few closing up their lockers and making their way to their next classes.  

She knew they were technically fake dating but their deal was still fairly recent and they hadn’t come out in public yet as a couple. Maybe she was used to his proximity since they were good friends but this was new. They displayed physical affection for each other, especially him as it was his love language, but this felt intimate and different. Avery wasn’t quite sure what to make of it and why the sudden effect he had on her. 

She shook her head and then looked at him, punching him playfully in the shoulder. “Nice try, Hawthorne, but that’s not happening.” 

He shrugged. “Worth a shot.” This time she did roll her eyes and pointed to his locker. “You, physics textbook, now.” He groaned dramatically before approaching his locker, looking back at her forlornly with a slight pout as he opened and slowly dragged out the wretched book. But his eyes caught her attention. Despite the funny expression, his eyes held that intensity when he was wholly focused on something, usually a puzzle and this time, her. Trying to shake off the feeling, she looked up in response to his theatrics as he proceeded to close the door. 

It was a bit overwhelming, this new focus he had on her, something she picked up on since he started spending more time with her than ever before. He seemed to have a constant need to distract himself from the anger and pain that Emily caused him but it didn’t feel purely based on that. There was a shift. She noted how intently he paid attention to her post break up and in the moments when he thought she wouldn’t see, she saw the little smiles or the way he would just watch her contently as they worked on homework. And she knew that something had changed but only a little while ago did she start feeling the effects of it herself. Although it scared her, she didn’t find herself shying away from it either.

Not wanting to dwell on it anymore, Avery took hold of his arm as soon as he secured the lock and tugged. “Come on, let’s go.”

Jameson frowned at her, “You’re no fun, you know that?” 

She turned to him and smiled mischievously. “I know, that’s why you keep me around. If you haven’t known by now, I’m your unofficial handler. I’m just not paid for it although Grayson and Nash probably thank me for doing so. You and Xander.” 

“Oof, now you’re just not being fair. That’s playing dirty, Aves.” She shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”

“I think they taught you a little too well,” he grumbled but Avery simply patted his hand and pulled him along. As they walked he started to mess with her a bit by pretending to struggle against her, pleading with her to go hang with him on the roof for a match of rooftop golfing. “I’ll even let you take the first two turns.” She snorted. They both knew she didn’t need a head start to beat him. When Avery Grambs had her mind set on something, the world was at her feet. 

This was them; jokes, teasing, nicknames with interesting back stories, light hearted jabs with meaning, comforting light touches, secret signals, deep talks late at night when no one would hear, solving puzzles and riddles no one else knew how to do, being so in tune with each other’s expressions… Avery loved it. It’s part of what kept her grounded in the past year. She drank in the moment, Jameson’s beaming face, her hands around his arm, the sound of her laughter. Yet she didn’t have enough time to revel in it because there was a storm coming their way.

A red hurricane was making her way down the hall towards them and Avery knew then, peace was lost. Jameson froze beside her at the sight.

Emily Laughlin; golden girl of Heights Country Day, darling of seemingly every gala in Texas, “the Hawthorne keeper”, and now, Jameson’s ex. In Avery’s mind, she was the Strawberry Menace that somehow managed to damper her mood every time she appeared. It was the equivalent of dropping one of Libby’s superior chocolate swirl cupcakes or finding the scone plate void of blueberry ones with only lemon-flavored leftovers in Xander’s wake. 

Avery had a motto in school; stay quiet and out of trouble but remain observant. Like anyone else, she knew the hierarchy set in secondary but after moving to Texas and enrolling at a private school, the differences between her old life and new one couldn’t have been more like day and night. The power dynamics of rich kids in a private school system were blown to new proportions as so many intricate details about one’s wealth, connections, and history seemed to play a role in status. This certainly had affected her introduction and integration but somehow she was still able to slip under the radar, at first.

And it was nice, taking back at least a piece of her old reality, and she relaxed, ready to be the quiet one in the corner again. In New Castle, she mostly kept to herself and never really liked drama which was why she tried to keep out of it. It wasn’t that she was shy but there just never seemed like anyone could be there for her in the way Max did, even with her halfway across the country. However, that wouldn’t be the case anymore, especially with the Hawthornes as regular company. 

They were all charming, witty, funny, adventurous, some more than others but none without their quirks. Yet, despite the wealth, their way of living, and larger than life characters, they all managed to work their way into her and Libby’s lives. And little by little they also managed to worm their way into Avery’s heart and they wouldn’t leave. She wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Although, there were downsides even to being friends with Hawthornes. Avery got along best with Xander and Jameson but that also meant where those two were, there was Emily and her posse. Until recently.

With Emily having been found out to be dating Jameson and his older brother Grayson at the same time with them both blissfully unaware, all hell had broken loose. The boys were affected badly; Gray had taken it the worst but Jameson was in a full blown fury. Out right he told her that he was breaking up with her and that if she were smart she would leave Grayson alone too. Avery had been very proud of him for that, taking up the mantle to protect him and his brother’s honor even though it was equally difficult for him. 

Of course, Emily did not take that message well and for the last two months she’d been trying to do whatever she could to make them come around. The audacity the girl had was astonishing and despite a tarnished reputation, she would still stoop so low; Avery may have despised her but marveled her tenacity. Sometimes she wished she had more of that herself. But Jameson had put his foot down and was holding it firmly in place which unfortunately meant that with every new attempt Emily became more unbearable. Like now.

As the Menace neared, Jameson hooked an arm around her and she felt him tracing two adjacent lines on her wrist then squeezing it. Over and over again. He was trying to tell her something. They started that a few months ago, before the breakup, as code for when there was a clue one of them found during Saturday games and didn’t want to alert the others to it. His brothers hadn’t caught onto that yet. As for this code, she knew the squeeze was reassurance as in “Don’t worry.” but the first part confused her. Was that an L, a V, or a check mar- Check mark; as in “All good.” He was telling her that he’s good and can handle it. 

Right as she finished that thought, he spoke up. “Hi Emily. What can we do for you today?” His tone was controlled, conversational, and his composure steady but Avery sensed the underlying unease. What he was really trying to say was, No, I can’t help you, leave me alone. And can you despawn from the map while you’re at it? 

“Jameson.” The Laughlin girl stopped a few meters from them, sounding hesitant and giving her best withered look. Avery would give her props for the effort but after being witness to this act more than a dozen times in the past two weeks, it was cumbersome. “Can we… talk?”

“Sure! The weather’s great today. Might take my new bike out for a spin on the track. Actually, the weather’s been treating us pretty well for the last while, right Aves?��� 

She side-eyed him but nodded in agreement. “Yup.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed slightly at her but she kept her demeanor in place. “Actually, I was hoping we could do so in private?”

Jameson grinned wickedly. “No, we may not. But if you do have something worthwhile to say, you can say it in front of me and Avery.”

“I see… You’ve already moved on.” Her tone started to sound sour. “Yes, and we’re very happy, thank you very much. Is that all?” He’s having fun with this.

“I always thought you two were a little too close for my taste even when we were together. Guess I should’ve known this would happen eventually.” Playing the victim card… Nice.

“Well, yeah. We never made our friendship a secret. It was pretty out in the open from the start that we got off pretty well since she moved here. You know, the way we used to when we were friends, Em. Hmm? Remember that? But oh, that was before a certain nasty betrayal occurred on your part, might I add.” Now he was just taking it too far. Avery wondered if she would have to tame the flames soon but Jameson paid no heed as she subtly elbowed his side. Instead, he simply grabbed her arm and wove his fingers around hers. She tried not to show her surprise as her heart sped up again.

Emily growled, “I never meant for it to happen that way Jamie-” “Jameson.” “Right, Jameson. I was new to this and had feelings for both of you. Believe me, I was very conflicted about the whole thing so I-”

“So you just decided to date both of us in secret without the other knowing for six months while we poured out the best of us into farces of relationships and you stabbed us with a knife in the back in return for our goodness. Gotcha. Nice talk,” he nodded along while winking mockingly and Emily glared back. The tension was just getting worse and Avery sensed her time was coming. 

“No, I’m sorry that happened. It shouldn’t have happened that way at all. But it did, I recognize that was very wrong of me but I really was trying to settle on one of you; it’s just you’re both so great and I was lucky to have even just one of you paying attention to me.” Cue the tears, roll the credits; Avery was rolling her eyes internally. 

“I’m gonna call cut. A word of critique; bull. Shit. You are one of the most attractive girls in school, you know this, so don’t pull that with me. Second of all, didn’t you hear, love triangles especially with brothers aren’t in style anymore. Not since Damon and Stefan on Vampire Diaries. And much less cheaters at that. But you just find yourself the exception as you always do, don’t you Emily?”

She scoffed. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you. You were basically emotionally cheating on me with her. Don’t try to deny it. I saw it; the talks, the inside jokes, the fact she was invited to elusive Saturday games much sooner than I ever was, how she was always on your team, and your weird handshakes. You were so touchy feely with her.”

Jameson quirked an eyebrow. “You know, for someone who claims that she’s all-seeing, clearly you’re blind. I kept a very respectful distance with Avery throughout our relationship and only did those handshakes when we were in public after accomplishing an assignment or a puzzle. We teamed up a lot because you almost always wanted to be with Gray despite my protests. Oftentimes we also didn’t share the same time slots for classes although I wanted to be with you and because sometimes Avery was, I wanted to help her integrate. It was something that my grandfather and Nash asked me and Xan to do. Our talks-” he sighed. “Look, I can go on but you would just turn that on me when you’re the one at fault here. End of story.”

“Oh, so you're her mouthpiece now? Miss Quiet As A Mouse can’t speak for herself; cat got your tongue?” That last remark was directed at her. Jameson wanted to protest but she put a hand on his chest. She could handle it.

While Avery avoided Emily like the plague and did her best to be polite when she had no choice but to interact with her, she did not tolerate mean girls. She had a voice and she wasn’t about to let a discounted rip off Regina George ruin her day by having her run her mouth. Plus, she’s being a disgrace to the real one. Yes, Max made her watch some cult classics back in seventh grade and it was one of the films she actually enjoyed but she would never tell her that. 

“What Jameson just said is all true. Plus, I was getting the signals from you. Don’t think for a second that I missed a single of your dirty looks when we hung out in a group. I knew you considered them yours. But last I checked, I often declined his company and was more so with your sister, Xander, and still I preferred my sister most to all of you. I’m not one to stray from my zone that often and it was because of Mr. Hawthorne that the boys got so involved with me. You were just an unfortunate addition that couldn’t find harmony because of your jealousy. Rest assured, I wasn’t ever after your crown but I did care about them as a concerned friend.” There. That was her piece in the matter. 

Emily laughed brokenly, letting her very fake tears stream down her fair cheeks as she swiped at them in a manner of attempting to regain composure. It was laughable. “If you think like that Av-ery, then you’re the biggest convincing liar I’ve ever seen. You-”

“Choose your next words carefully. Because next time there won’t be any talking or pleasantries of any sort; we’ll walk right on by. And if I hear you’re harassing Avery, consider yourself on the receiving end of a restraining order.” Jameson’s words resounded in the hall as everyone around them was intently listening to the argument. Emily was always one for a show and while Jameson wasn’t one to care, he was aware that Avery was. It felt debilitating as she felt eyes on her but she tried not to pay attention as she was sort of privy to this already at major events when she was photographed with Xander at comps or charities as a special guest of the Hawthorne family.  Yet school felt like a different story because of how life worked with teenagers where everything was under even more scrutiny. 

“Fine!” she spat. “Just know I loved you but she most certainly doesn’t. She will never appreciate you the way I did and trust me that this is gonna be a short-lived relationship so when she leaves you high and dry, don’t come crawling back to me. All she’s gonna prove to be is a giant fake that wants you for your money; a filthy gold digger from dirt poor New Castle. A nobody! She and her sister!”  

Avery didn’t bat an eye. Although she felt anger flaring inside her at the jab at Libby, the most she did was send Emily a concentrated stare that dared her to say it again. However, it was her best friend that took that most to heart in the moment.

He wasn’t having it. His facial features were strained; mouth pursed in a grim line and long gone was the cool façade he kept up for the sake of fake pleasantry. She saw the telltale signs of irritation; clenched jaw, left eyebrow twitching ever so slightly, eyes glazed over with a steely edge and he was biting at his lips. His hands were balled into fists and his body was as taut as a bowstring, ready to strike out. He’s pissed. Avery couldn’t tell if the situation would escalate to the point it ended in a fight, if he was going to blow a fuse or just walk away. 

She’d be surprised if he didn’t put up some more arguing, though, as of late, there were quite a few instances where he simply left the scene. Maturity maybe, but this is still Jameson we’re talking about. 

And yet, what he did instead was something she never saw coming. He turned her way but before she could ask what was wrong or register what was happening, his lips were firmly against hers. He simply dove down and kissed her. Just like that. No words, no signal, no nothing. All she got was a moment to see his determined gaze turning on her, no prior warning, and then he was kissing the breath out of  her. 

Avery froze; her brain was shutting down and she didn’t know how to move her limbs. Jameson, thankfully, wasn’t phased and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Her body was still on autopilot but she knew her feet were shuffling forward and while it took a moment longer, she finally managed to react. 

Her hands found their way to his chest, grasping at the lapels of his blazer. She felt fuzzy, he was warm and solid against her and his cologne smelled nice and he was so good at this and… For what felt like a small eternity, he kissed her and she was started to relax. But as Avery was about to reciprocate, he pulled away just as quickly. Opening her eyes right after was a mistake because she was blindsided by the disorientated feeling overwhelming her. Is this the infamous Cloud 9? 

She was still clutching at the blazer, her grip having gone lax, and her other arm fell slack by her side. The only reason she realized she was still holding onto him was because he’d wrapped his hand around hers, squeezing it to give her reassurance but even that was over fast.  

“Come on, Avery.” When he said her name, the world came rushing in and subsequently, she became aware of everyone else, including Emily herself, gawking at them. Suddenly, she wasn’t so disoriented. Although she was still trying to recover from that surprise kiss, her mind was catching up and the underlying sense of embarrassment and horror were coming back in full force. If her cheeks weren’t flushed before, they were now as she was unable to look away from everyone surrounding her. But Jameson decided they weren’t sticking around. 

He grabbed her hand and tugged lightly, pulling her after him. She allowed herself a second more to linger on their audience before turning forward, focusing her eyes on the back of Jamie’s head. In her semi-dazed state, it was probably the better decision in favor of her standing there frozen with her mouth open and eyes widened like a confused fish. 

As Jameson dragged her away from the scene, away from Emily, the onlookers and the uncomfortable intensity of their stares that seemed to follow them down the hall, only then did reality wake her to the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. They were just friends… weren’t they? 

She was just being a good friend helping him out by agreeing to fake date him to get his ex-girlfriend off his back because she had simultaneously dated him and his brother and kept both their relationships a secret, right?

If so, then why did he have to go and kiss her like that? They’d agree to kissing, yes, but friends didn’t kiss that way. It felt more passionate than necessary, like there was something deeper he was trying to convey than just his frustration and fury. Admittedly, she did like the kiss just a little more than she expec-Wait, she wasn’t getting a crush on her friend, was she? 

Oh no. This wasn’t in the rules.

A/N: Thanks for reading. I will be announcing my next fic(s) for release very soon. Reminder, all my fics are also on AO3 for you to read if you prefer that platform under the pseudonym ThePuzzledWriter. Bye!

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter Seven I Hits Different

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning: Talk of death, angst, angst, and oh yeah, angst

A/N: The absolute love that's been coming from yall this week has made me so soft! Thank you! Enjoy this chapter ;-)

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six

When I got the call that Rebecca’s father had passed and that we would all be going to the funeral, I didn’t know exactly how to react. Daddy issues aside, what was I meant to wear? What do you say to someone who’s father passed? I was never good at these types of things.

I came late, purposefully. Trying to avoid as much awkward small talk as possible. As I stood outside the church, I felt my palms getting sweaty. The last funeral I’d been to… well let’s just say it hadn’t gone well. Man, I could really use Ted right now.

I walked in quietly, trying not to attract attention. Unfortunately, the door closed much hard behind me, making a rather large noise as it closed. It caught the attention of Keely who was standing with Sassy inside.

            “Hey babes!” She greeted, reaching out her hand to me. “Welcome to the party.” I grabbed her hand and entered the group, giving her a side hug. “I thought this was a funeral.”

            “Holy shit, your tits look great!” Sassy complimented, motioning to her chest.

I looked down subconsciously, trying to fix my dress to cover up my cleavage “Oh, is it too much?”

            “Definitely not.” Keely reached up and adjusted my dress again, so it was back to how it was originally. “You look great.”

            “Oi, what were you saying about Rebecca secretly dating someone?” Sassy interrupted. I turned wide-eye to Keely.

            “Rebecca’s dating someone?” I removed my arm from around Keely and turned so I was standing next to Sassy. “And you didn’t tell me?”

            “I don’t know anything for sure, but I’m pretty sure it’s been going on for like weeks now,” Keely whispered. Now that she mentioned it, Rebecca had been acting differently. She wasn’t coming out as much or spending as much time in the locker room. It was like she was hiding something.

            “Now.” Sassy’s eyes gained a mischievous look on her face. “Is today an inappropriate day to inquire/badger her into telling us who?”

            “We’ll never know unless we try!” Keely responded, giggling. Suddenly her gaze turned warning as she looked over my shoulder.

            “Keely.” Jamie’s voice surprised me from behind. I turned around and was surprised to see him in a suit, with a shirt on underneath.

            “Jamie. Wow! Nice suit!” She greeted, turning to see him. Then as Jan and Nate approached as well “All of you. Look at you!”

I felt like my voice was caught in my throat. This was a funeral, a really bad time to be thirsting over Jamie but he just looked so damn good. I swallowed hard, glancing down at his feet.

            “And no trainers! On any of you,” I chimed in. “Making me proud.”

Jamie looked surprised when he saw me, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes darted down and back up.  “Hi (Y/N). I didn’t see you come in.”

Ever since the night club, I’d tried to avoid Jamie as much as possible. I woke up the next morning, unfortunately sober, and remembered how lose my lips were the night before. And the fact that we had almost nearly kissed on the dance floor. Our morning practices were short and I had begun taking my lunches with Keely and Roy to avoid spending anymore unnecessary one-on-one time with Jamie.

It hurt, of course, to be away from him. I had become really attached to him and his presence in my life. I don’t know if he felt it, but to me it was like there was a giant Jamie sized hole missing.

I glanced over at the door. “Oh, yeah, I was… late, I guess.”

            “Well, you look great,” he commented. “It’s a nice… err… dress.”

            “Yes, your breasts look very nice in that dress,” Jan agreed, giving me a warm smile.

Jamie turned and smacked Jan on the back of the head. “Now is not the time to be commenting on her breasts, twat.”

            “Oh! I did not mean to be offensive.” In his defense he did look apologetic. Well, as apologetic as the Dutch man could muster. “I simply meant your dress fits you well.”

            “And Nate!” Thank God, for Keely. “Is that the suit that Ted got you.”

            “What, this?” He looked surprised by the question.

            “Yeah!”

            “Um, I can’t remember… uh, yes! Yeah,” he stumbled through his answer.

I nodded at him. “it’s a really nice suit!”

            “Another man buying you clothes is infantilizing, yes?” Jan Maas interjected, a curious look on his face. There was an awkward pause as we all tried to figure out how to answer.

            “Fucks sake,” Jamie muttered. He turned to me. “Want to go find a seat?”

I glanced over at Keely. She had heard all about that night from me and had insisted that it was a sign. She was fully on the (Y/N) x Jamie train and told me that I just HAD to confess my feelings for him in the most romantic way possible. I, however, felt like every time I spoke with Jamie, I ended up sticking my foot in my mouth.

Right now, she was giving me a not-so-subtle signal to go with him. God, why did it have to be a funeral.

            “Sure! Let’s go. Let’s go find a seat!” I said, coolly. Though not that coolly. More, oddly than coolly.  But Jamie didn’t seem to notice as he started to lead me further down the aisle. I turned back to look at Keely who was giving me a big thumbs up. As if I would confess my feelings to Jamie right now. ‘Hey Jamie, I know there’s a dead body in front of us, but do you want to make out with me and have lots and lots of babies?’ Didn’t exactly roll off the tongue did it.

He stared quietly ahead of us at the crucifix above the alter. I couldn’t read his face. I wish I could tell what he was thinking in this moment. But instead, I found myself looking over the delicate features of his face. His eyes, his mouth, his lips. I was going to burn in hell.

            “I didn’t know you owned a dress shirt, Jamie,” I decided on saying, giving him a smile.

            “I didn’t. Had to go buy one,” he told me, looking down at his shirt. “Did you know that you can buy these in bulk for like 20 quid?”

            “Yeah… yeah I did know that.”

            “Fucking wild,” he muttered. “Had to go with Colin and Dani to a shoe store down the street to get dress shoes.”

I was suddenly overwhelmed with softness at the thought. The boys all got together and decided to come to this all on their own. They came, dressed to the occasion, to support their owner even though she didn’t ask them to.

            “Well, it means a lot,” I said, softly. “To Rebecca, that you all came.”

He looked over at me and shrugged. “Yeah well… we’s a family, ain’t we?”

He truly was a completely different person than when we first met. I knew that, but it really hit me in this moment. I opened my mouth to respond to him when we were interrupted by Spanish cursing. Dani came up from behind us, praying and cursing under his breath.

            “I hate dress shoes so much, Jamie,” he whined, leaning on Jamie for support.

            “I know, muchacho,” Jamie responded sympathetically. “Cause remembers, they ain’t made for people like us. They’re made for sheep. They’re made for Muggles. They’re made for twats.”

            “Thank you for your sacrifice, Dani,” I encouraged.

            “When I get home, I will set them on fire, and their memory will burn in hell.”

Jamie and I stared at each other. “Jesus, Dani.”

Dani looked at us, an incredulous look on his face. “Jesus has no place in the conversation of these damn shoes.”

With that he began limping forward, resuming his frantic praying. I watched him leave, feeling his pain from where I was standing.

I suddenly felt really hot and my palms began to sweat again. Then in an instant, my heart began to race as a sense of panic washed over me.

            “You alright?” Jamie’s voice broke through my sweat.

I swallowed, trying to get some moisture back in my throat. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine I just… I need to step outside.”

I began to walk off towards a side door. I turned over my shoulder and saw Jamie watching after me, concern lacing his face. Got I wanted to go back and hold him. Tell him everything that was bothering me and let him comfort me. But now was not the time or the place. Instead, I pressed on and walked outside.

As I did, it felt like I was coming up for air after taking a dive into the deep in. I covered my face as I tried to ground myself in the current moment. If only Ted was here. He would know how to help me right now.

Suddenly, I heard loud laughter. I looked around for the source of the noise and saw a back room. I wandered over to the room and saw inside Keely, Sassy, and Rebecca along with her mother and Nora.  

            “What is going on in here?” I laughed, coming in to join them.

Keely stood up and clapped her hands. “Someone is secretly shagging a footballer!”

I gave Keely a look, there was no way they were talking about Jamie and me. “We aren’t shagging!”

There was silence in the room as the women a looked at each other. Then they burst out into another round of squeals and screaming. I looked around, realizing my mistake. They were not talking about me.

            “Wait, wait, if you weren’t talking about me, then who-“

            “No, you’re not getting out of this,” Rebecca cut me off, pointing at me. “Who are you talking about?”

            “Rebecca is shagging Sam,” Keely blurted out, giggling like a toddler.

My mouth dropped. Not what I was expecting. “Wait, what?”

            “Shut it, Keely, that is old news! Tell us who you are shagging.” Sassy tugged on my arm, practically pulling out of its socket.

I waved my hands around, trying to get my mind wrapped around the situation. “Okay, so Rebecca is shagging Sam, which is true. And I’m not shagging anyone, which is also true.”

            “But you implied that you SOMETHING going on with someone else,” Nora pointed out. I glared at her. “What! I’m just saying!”

I looked over at Keely, begging for any kind of help in the situation but she was too caught up in the excitement to offer a diversion. Sassy came over and grabbed my arm.

            “C’mon, anything you say in here, stays in here, we promise, right?” She comforted looking around at the other women for encouragement. I don’t know how much I trusted Sassy though. She could be a bit unpredictable, but honestly, I felt so safe in this room with these women. And fuck it, I was having a bad day.

            “Okay…” I wavered, closing my eyes. “I have serious feelings for Jamie.”

The room broke out into screams of excitement, a thousand questions being thrown my way. I glanced over at Keely who was just smiling at me. Luckily, before I could start answering questions, the vicar came in and kicked all of us out.

Rebecca gave me a look that said We’ll talk later, and we walked out. Keely caught up to me and locked out arms together.

            “You doing alright, babes?” She asked, tugging on my arm a bit.

            “Me? Yeah. I’m doing great!” I shrugged, looking straight towards the church. “I mean who doesn’t love a good funeral.”

            “Not me,” she grumbled. “Roy’s been giving me a hard time all day. I hate death.”

I laughed. “Bold statement, ‘I hate death.’”

            “I don’t need shit from you too!” She protested, but she was smiling just as well.

We reentered the church and Keely went to join Roy. I started to make my way to the back of the church where I could sit in one of the empty aisles when I heard someone whisper call my name. I looked around and saw Jamie waving at me. When he saw he got my attention, he pointed to an empty spot next to him. He saved me a seat. My heart fluttered as I made my way over to him. He scooted down to give me a bit more room as I side stepped through the aisle past Isaac.

            “Thanks for saving me a seat,” I murmured to him.

            “Don’t mention it,” He replied. “I just got sick of listening to this one.” He pointed over to Dani who was sitting across the aisle. “I don’t know what padre he’s praying to, but I hope he fucking listens.”

I snorted, covering my mouth to keep my laugh in. Jamie smiled down at me as I regained my composure. I looked over at him and nudged him with my shoulder.

            “You’re ridiculous.”

The funeral was interesting to say the least. Rebecca gave a unique but moving eulogy to her father that contained more Rick Astley than I was expecting and afterwards we all went back to Rebecca’s place for a reception.

Somehow, I lost Jamie. He started acting weird after the eulogy, like he was deep in thought. Which for Jamie, was never a good sign. Once we got to the house, he completely disappeared from me. I instead, found myself rounding the snacks table by myself.

            “(Y/N) (L/N)!” Ted’s cheerful voice came from behind me. I was relieved to hear him. As much as he could get on my nerves with his constant optimism, right now, it was exactly what I needed. When I turned and saw him, I felt myself overwhelmed with emotion. Despite his voice, his eyes were sad.  

            “Hi Ted.” My response came out hoarser than I meant it to.

His eyes immediately flooded with concern. “Hey, you alright?” That was a question I had heard a lot today.  ‘You Alright’. And I kept saying yes. Despite the turmoil in my head about the millions of emotions I was feeling about today. About funerals. About fathers.  But hey, join the daddy issues club, I guess.

            “Yeah,” I assured him, thinking on the issue. “My dad died six months before I started at Richmond.”

Ted raised his eyebrows at me as he took in my statement. I hadn’t told anyone that in my time at Richmond. I’d barely told anyone outside my family. But I told my dad that I got my job and a month later he was dead.

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that,” Ted consoled, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

I shrugged. “I haven’t told anyone. But… the funeral… it’s just…”

            “Brought up memories?” Ted offered. At my look, he let out a breathy laugh. “Join the club.”

I wasn’t sure exactly what he was referencing but I’m sure it was his explanation for showing up late today. I decided not to press further and opted instead to pass him a beer bottle.

            “To dads?” I beckoned, holding my own beer up to his.

            “To dads!” He joined. Then paused for adding. “And to the things we left unsaid.”

I held my drink for a second thinking on his words before taking a sip of my beer. As I did, I finally found Jamie. He was walking across the living room to approach Keely. Everything that had happened between us in the past few months went through my head in an instant. From the early morning practices to the encouragement during training, to the bus ride and the club. He was someone I wanted in my life for the foreseeable future. He was someone I wanted in my life permenantly.

Things left unsaid.

            “If you’ll excuse me a moment, Ted.”

I didn’t listen for his response and instead walked straight towards Jamie. I was going to do it. I was going to tell him. His back was to me as he chatted with Keely and I approached walking quickly, with a purpose. As I got closer, Is started to hear what he was saying.

            “I didn’t just come back to Richmond to get away from me dad. I also came back ‘cause of you.” It felt like all the air in my lungs was knocked out of my in an instance. Keely’s face was frozen in one of shock as he spoke to her. “I finally think that I’m becoming the best version of meself, the kind of man that you always knew that I could be.” He was saying all the right things. All the wonderful things I had been thinking about him for weeks now. He was saying all the right things, just not to me. “And I know that this is a mad, shitty thing to do, but… I love you, Keely.”

Keely’s eyes lowered a bit and finally they met my eyes. My brain couldn’t process exactly what was happening. The relationship I had created with Jamie truly was all in my head. I had created the idea that he had leaned in to kiss me that night. It was all a lie.

Before he could turn around, I left. I left as fast as my feet could take me and get outside. My palms were sweaty again and that feeling of panic that I had felt in the church returned. I finally made it out the front door and took a big gulp of fresh air. I sat down on the porch and shoved my head in my hands, trying to ground myself once again. Vaguely, I heard the door opening behind me. I knew it was Keely without even having to look.

            “(Y/N), I… I’m so, so, sorry,” she said as she sat down next to me. “I have no idea where that came from.”

            “No, it’s alright, it’s not your fault.” I felt a laugh bubble it way out my chest. “It’s all my fault! It really is.” Keely looked at me like I was crazy. “I’m used to this! I’m used to getting my heart broken. I’m used to hearing the ‘love is a lie’ speech from my friends.” Finally, I took my head out of my hands and rested my chin in my hands. “But… it just feels different this time.”

And with that the laugh left my voices as my disappointment caught up with me and it was replaced by a sob. I covered my mouth, surprised by the noise that had just come out of it. Then my lip was shaking, and my eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

            “Oh, (Y/N)…” Keely cooed.

She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into her. I rested my head on her shoulder and let myself cry.

Taglist: @heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle

hehehehehe

[vansmaybeonthewall]

reputation // i did something bad

chapter summary: The one where your plan comes to life after a series of events that fueled the fire.

Eventual Jamie Tartt x Reader

the support you have shown for this is truly amazing. ily all, i hope you enjoy! i almost accidentally deleted it all before posting

word count: 4.3k

previous chapter next chapter

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The spotlight was on you, a familiar yet unwanted feeling. News headlines questioned your ability to hold a crowd that big and there was not one positive thing to combat them. Even the almighty Rupert and his sidekick Derek forgot how small you were compared to other artists. It was almost as if they wanted you to fail despite wanting to take a win from Rebecca Welton. It also was a surprise to see the size of the stage and the number of light fixtures fixed to it. Even dancers who seemed to be warming up? You made your way to the stage from the tunnel, crew milling about preparing the finishing touches. Derek spotted you in your confused state and jogged over to you. 

“Amazing isn’t it? Jasmine had the bright idea to have a full stage with room for choreography. She even got some designers to agree to make these long flowy dresses to match your “vibe”.”

“My vibe?”

“Yeah, you know, the way your songs sound and the meanings, all that. She’s gotten a choreographer already planning out your movements. She has a hairstylist and a makeup artist waiting for you already to practice the look they have picked out. Oh this is so exciting! Come on!”

“Wait, Derek!”

But he has already rushed off, jogging back across the field. There was no choice but to follow him which somehow led you to be sitting in a makeup chair with two strangers attacking your hair and face. It was awkward and the silence was excruciatingly painful. Both stylists had made it quite clear they weren’t amused or happy to be working with you. You were left alone in your makeshift wardrobe area looking at an unrecognizable figure in the mirror. Your hair didn’t suit your face and the makeup distorted what you knew to be yourself. The dress, the most beautiful shade of purple, wasn’t what you had planned for the event. In fact, none of this was what you had planned. You would have been content with a small stage and your guitar. It didn’t need to be this difficult. 

This wasn’t you. Not in this moment of time. While you reveled in the beauty of your songs and the meanings you so delicately handcrafted, this wasn’t how they were supposed to be showcased. Of course, the opportunity to perform in front of hundreds of people was a dream, but it was to good to be true. A small percentage, if any, would know the lyrics to your songs. It didn’t seem-

“Knock knock!”

Jasmine pokes her head through the doorway, a radiant smile on her face.

“Oh, you look absolutely gorgeous! Are you ready for it?”

“For what exactly?”

“To go over the setlist! I know they were still making changes, but they should be done by now. We need a rehearsal today and to schedule a few more before the match in a few days, which may have to be every day for a couple of hours at the rate we’re going.”

“The setlist is already being done? Don’t I get a say in it?”

Jasmine frowns slightly, her demeanor shifting.

“Derek thought it would be best to pick certain songs and leave out others. He thought you might pick some not fit for the purpose of the show.”

Right. The show wasn’t completely for you, it only involved you in some plan on getting sweet revenge on Rebecca Welton on Rupert’s behalf.

“He said that?”

“Well, yes and no. Think of it like this.”

She places her hands on your arms in an attempt to comfort you.

“You have someone looking out for you making sure you don’t make any more mistakes. It’s sweet. Now let’s get going. I’ll give you five more minutes to yourself.”

Jasmine leaves the room shutting the door behind her. Her words left you dumbfounded. First, you had no say in the songs you’d sing and second, she said Derek was there to help you make no more mistakes. You had no idea if she was being genuine or if she was deliberately trying to hurt you. You shook the thoughts from your head, heading out towards the field. 

As you walked across the field, you spotted instruments being set up on stage. It gave some sort of relief that you would play your own, but that was soon taken away. Derek was giving people papers and orders of where to go. The instrumentals of your songs soon flooded your ears. Carefully, you climbed up onto the stage and approached Derek. He spun around at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“You made it! You look exactly how we pictured you should, this is perfect! You have to meet the band and-”

“The band?”

Derek gives you a strange look.

“The band that’s going to be playing for you. Did you think you would be playing yourself?”

“I always have, you know that.”

“Yes, but we wanted to make you seem like a bigger artist than you are. We need to let Richmond know we are better than them in every possible way. Rupert is going to come by for a rehearsal and speaking of which, you need the setlist.”

You started to ask a question be he quickly shot you down.

“(Y/N), you don’t really have a say in the songs. What you have in mind doesn’t fit.”

“How do you know what I have in mind, Derek?”

“Come on, we’ve been dating for two years, you think I don’t know you?”

At the call of his name, Derek excused himself from the conversation leaving you in the center of the stage. It was like a stab to the heart. None of this performance was about you, it was everybody else’s. And yet you still followed whatever you were told to do. 

~

Two days before the match

“August slipped away into a moment of time

‘Cause it was never mine”

“Cut! Cut, cut, cut!”

Mid-song you were cut off, yet again. It was a cycle repeated every few minutes.

“The choreography isn’t right, weren’t you told to do what you normally do when you perform this song?”

“And I have told you time after time, I play my guitar every time I sing this song. But you’re not listening to me.”

“Darling, I was hired as creative director of this halftime performance, you do as I say or I blacklist you from future performances. Which doesn’t seem possible at the moment with your attitude.”

You seeth in silent anger. You push through the entire rehearsal, eager to leave the stadium. And when you finally get back to wardrobe to change back, the day somehow gets worse. You exit the building and make your way to the parking lot to wait for Derek. The constant dinging of your phone in your bag breaks you out of your trance. You dig through your bag and find Twitter to be the culprit of the noise. And boy was it a shock.

Multiple news accounts tweeted articles and comments about your appearance at the West Ham v. Richmond game. But what caught your eye was the A.F.C. Richmond account tagging your username. You click on the tweet to find a clip of a recent press conference with the tweet reading “Real men support their besties”.

You press play and find yourself listening to Colin answering questions. 

“And what do you think of (Y/N) (L/N)’s upcoming performance as a halftime entertainer?”

“(Y/N) is a talented artist. She has come so far and I’m happy to see her fulfilling one of her goals.”

“Even if a larger audience doesn’t approve of her choices in her music career?”

You see Colin straighten up.

“For as long as I’ve had the pleasure of knowing (Y/N), she does everything for a reason. Even if it may seem “outlandish” or “stupid” to critics like you, she puts her whole heart into it for the one person who will love and cherish her work to the very end. I look forward to our match against West Ham, not just for a win, but to see my best friend do the one thing she has dreamed of doing since she was a kid.”

A bittersweet smile made its way to your face. You and Colin hadn’t spoken for a while, with his matches and you following Derek as he requested. Maybe you should send him a message? Colin, however, beats you to it. You don’t have a chance to read it as a hand snatches your phone out of your grip. Derek comes into view and holds the phone up to his ear.

“Hello hello, is (Y/N) here? She didn’t hear me calling her name.”

“Jesus Derek, what the fuck.”

“You weren’t listening, I had to do something.”

He pulls the phone from his ear and moves to hand it back to you, but he catches a glimpse of the screen.

“Why is he texting you? I thought I said you couldn’t.”

You try to take your phone back from his grasp but Derek holds it higher in the air.

“He’s my best friend, I can’t just ignore him.”

“And I’m your boyfriend, I think I know what’s best for you.”

“Derek, please-”

He grabs your wrist tightly and sharply pulls it back down. You visibly wince at the sudden pain.

“I’m your boyfriend, you don’t need anyone else protecting you or saying thighs to defend you, I do that. That’s my job, alright?”

You don’t answer. At your silence, Derek jerks your arm.

“Alright?

You quickly nod. Derek lets go of your arm. Seeing tears about to fall from your eyes, he hugs you tightly. He places your phone into your back pocket before letting go of you. He kisses your cheek.

“I only do what’s best for you, you know that. Now I have to go meet with Rupert and Jasmine to discuss final additions to the show. And maybe when I get home, we can celebrate”

Derek looks at you with a smirk on his face before walking away, leaving you frozen by yourself without a ride home. You carefully rub your wrist, already feeling the ugly marks that would soon stain your skin. In fear of speaking to anyone and of meeting Derek at home, you start the long trek back, taking the long way home.

~

One day before the match

You had been silent for the last rehearsal. To get through the day faster, you chose not to voice any differences or concerns you had about your performance. You didn’t even have the courage to respond to Colin’s text much less open it. You were heading down the long hallway from your wardrobe room when you caught giggles and whispers of a heated conversation. But what really caught your attention was the mention of your name. You stop at the corner and lean against the wall. You take a peak to find Derek pinning Jasmine against the wall, face pressed into her neck. Her giggles turn into soft moans as Derek’s hands slide down her body. You place your back against the wall and slide down, hitting the floor with a small thump. 

You knew they were sneaking around. You saw the little glances and the comments they made towards the other. Even the time they kissed as an elevator closed, hiding the affair within. But never would you have imagined them being this bold. It was an ugly feeling, a nausous bugs crawling on your skin type of feeling. How could you have let this go on for so long? How could you have been with him for so long? How could you tolerate it? It was then in that moment that you made the decision to make this show about you. Not revenge on Ms. Welton, not to make West Ham look good, and definitely not to make Derek look good. It was going to end, all of it. 

You stood up from your spot and marched back to your dressing room. You snatched your phone from the vanity and found Colin’s contact. The message you never read glared at you.

Don’t let anything they say get to you, they don’t know you. You know you. Don’t let anyone make you forget that.

You press the call button. The call is picked up after the first ring. 

“Do you want to help me do something stupid?”

~

Day of the match

You looked at yourself in the mirror. The purple dress hid any indication of another outfit underneath. The bold choice of a red lip and your cat-eye eyeliner made you feel like…yourself. It was what you felt in the moment and having the decision to do it was truly an amazing thing. Getting to the stage was no big deal, you and Colin had created a foolproof plan of getting you there, which involved you being wheeled in a “cleaning cart” to underneath the stage where you would rise up as planned. 

There was a knock on the door.

“Hey babes, they’re ready for you if you are.”

You turn to the small TV in the corner of the room playing the match. There was only a few minutes until halftime. You open the door to see Keeley Jones.

“Let’s hope they’re ready for it.”

Being underneath the stage was surreal. Even if it was meant to be put up and torn apart within a short period of time, it was so elaborate. Workers milled about and the surprisingly loud chanting of your name filled the space. You quickly took off the dress revealing your outfit underneath. Pulling on the knee length boots, you grabbed a plain black microphone out of a box. Some of the dancers looked at you in confusion and anger, still dressed in flowy dresses. Those that agreed to your change in plans were dressed in black with microphones in hand. You took your place in the center of the lowered stage piece. The lights dimmed.

“And now, for your entertainment, the artist behind the delicate Folklore and Evermore, (Y/N) (L/N)!”

At the mention of your name, a glitch sound was heard. All fell silent before-

“Baby let the games begin”

The band takes off playing your song as you rise up, head lowered. As you are lifted onto the stage, the lights go red.

“Are you ready for it?”

Lights flash on you. Your black bodysuit sparkles in the spotlight. The crowd goes wild for you despite knowing none of the lyrics or meaning of all this. Your dancers and back up singers join you on stage, bringing the choreography you learned in secret to life. And when the moment came for the high note, you basked in the audience’s shouting of the lyrics as they learned the longer the song went on. The song came to an end, but this was only the beginning. At center stage, you unzipped the hoodie piece of your suit before continuing the set. Your look dramatically into the crowd, hoping your lyrics and fake laugh reached Derek’s pathetic little heart. 

“If a man talks shit, then I owe him nothing”

You hear cheers and screams coming from the girls and women in the crowd. You smirk, making sure this performance was as powerful for them as much as it was for you. The moment you get lifted into the air by your dancers felt like what it meant to be a phoenix rising from the ashes. If it was at all possible, the crowd seemed to be even louder as you finished, smiling and laughing at their reaction. The lights went out, allowing you to see the benches both teams sat at. You could see Derek arguing with Rupert, and Jasmine trying to mediate the two. It was far from over. The sounds of your next song started playing, and this one? The audience knew.

“Cause baby we got bad blood”

The singing grew louder as the stadium filled with screeches and yelling. The sound of a banjo mixing with pop music sent them into an absolute frenzy. You were bringing back your old songs, songs that haven’t been heard in years. 

“Should’ve said no”

You fell off the stage, your dancers catching you.

“Should’ve gone home”

You start running to the Richmond bench where you meet Colin with the handshake you made up when you were kids. As you start singing again, you start dancing wildly together. Cameramen follow your movements to display on the screens. While the coaches and other players seemed confused at the start, they hop in on the fun. You stay for a moment before walking towards the West Ham bench. Colin runs off grabbing a box.

“Shouldn’t be asking myself why”

You close in on Derek, pushing yourself into his face as he tries to back up. 

“You should’ve said no, baby and you might still have me”

You lean back dropping the microphone onto the floor near his feet. Colin appears next to you with a microphone sparkling with red glitter. You make your way back to the stage, but never back on it. You finish your performance on the grass. And as soon as it ends, Colin comes running, picking you up and spinning around in circles. The crowd chants your name. Colin sets you down. You bring the mic back to your face. 

“It has been an absolute pleasure to perform for you today London Stadium, but I do have some unfortunate news for you.”

You paused. All eyes were on you. Derek, although hiding from embarrassment, was staring at you with worry. Not for you, but for himself.

“I resign from my position on the West Ham United team as an entertainer and as an assistant. I will no longer be affiliated or used as a figure to represent this club, but rather another.”

Colin tilts his head in confusion. That last part wasn’t part of the plan. You look at Derek and Rupert as you speak your last sentence. 

“From now on, I will be working closely with A.F.C Richmond through their season not only to support their endeavours, but to finish my upcoming album reputation!”

With that, you turn and run towards the tunnel, waving at fans until you’re hidden away. You continue running until you find the locker room Richmond occupied for the match. You shut the door and lean against it for a second. You place the mic down on a bench before running your hands through your hair in disbelief. Being alone was shortlived as Colin burst through the door. He hugs you tightly, but keeps a hold of you when he pulls away. 

“When you said stupid, I didn’t think you meant this stupid.”

“Me neither, it just came out.”

The two of you embrace each other once again. An idea comes to mind. You let go of Colin.

“You have an extra jersey in your bag right?”

“Always.”

“Want to make it even worse?” 

The rest of the team along with the coaches file into the locker room. At the sight of Colin and you, they quiet down. Coach Lasso, the bright soul, comes forward. 

“Well I must say, that was a mighty brave thing you did out there Ms. (L/N). Wonderful performance too, you’ve come a long way from country.”

You were in shock. 

“You knew me from when I did country?”

“Of course I do! Everybody should, I was happy to hear that banjo and slight country twang in your voice. Reminded me of home”

You smiled sweetly at him. You were about to respond, but the sound of heels interrupted. Everybody turned their heads to the locker room entrance to find Keeley and Rebecca Welton. 

“Let’s wrap it up boys, we’ll do a talk and walk while we wait.”

Colin squeezes your shoulder before following his team. When they all vacated the room, Keeley came bounding to you. 

“That was fantastic babe! Absolutely spectacular.”

“It couldn’t have been done without you, Ms. Jones.”

She responded to your tease with a light punch to your arm. 

“(Y/N), this is Rebecca, Rebecca (Y/N).”

It was then you realized what you said on the field. You bring your hands up to cover your mouth.

“Ms.Welton! I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to blab, I just needed-”

Rebecca holds up a hand.

“There’s no need to apologize, I understand.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do, half the things I’ve done were done to try and hurt someone else. In fact, I must say I’m proud you had to courage to do that in front of so many people. Which brings me to this.”

You look between her and Keeley, who was trying to hide the biggest smile on her face. 

“If you wish to make what you said out there real, we’d be happy to have you.”

Keeley starts bouncing on her feet. Your mouth opens in shock.

“You’d want me?”

“You have quite the talent, and I’d hate to see you lose it because of…certain people.”

“Ms. Welton-”

“Rebecca.”

“Thank you Rebecca, I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t. Save it for when you finish writing.”

Rebecca smiles at you before extending her hand out to you. However, you take the opportunity to hug her, taking her by surprise. She returns the gesture. Keeley claps her hands together.

“Now why don’t we watch our boys beat the absolute shit out of your exes.”

You return to the field with Colin’s backup jersey over your bodysuit. Rebecca and Keeley headed to their seats, but you took the opportunity to cheer for your best friend in a place Derek would hear. As fans spotted you walking toward the Richmond bench, they cheered. 

“I spy with my little eye, a country gal making her way to the rodeo.”

You smile at Coach Lasso’s commentary. To appease him, you speak with a slight country twang.

“It ain’t a rodeo without a cowboy Coach Lasso.”

“Please, call me Ted.”

You shake hands as well as the other coaches before turning to the field where the play has resumed. You see Colin attempting to run from his attackers before he is tripped. Whistles blow, and some boos can be heard from the Richmond fans. Colin gets up slowly. You see the trio of coaches make the decision to pull him out. As Colin sits down on the bench. You crouch as Colin rubs his ankle.

“What happened?”

“Got me on purpose and made it look like a wee little accident.”

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s not your fault (Y/N).”

“But if I hadn’t done-”

“If you hadn’t done what you did, you wouldn’t be here wearing my jersey with knee-high boots.”

You smile at each other. 

“Come on, let’s watch them avenge me.”

The game could have gone better as it ended with a tie. But boy did it feel good to cheer and yell with Colin. Despite his slightly injured ankle, Colin picked you up and carried you to the huddle to celebrate their draw. They file into the locker room and gather their belongings. As you all file out of the locker room, you just remember that your stuff sits in the home-side part of the stadium.

“Shit.”

“What’s happened?”

You look at Colin with a troubled look on your face.

“My stuff. It’s in the dressing room My phone, my bag, my clothes.”

You won’t have to worry about any of that anymore as Derek storms down the hall with your bag in hand. He shouts your name and throws your belongings at you. The bag slides across the floor. You take a step back as he gets closer.

“I always knew you were stupid, but the shit you pulled today? You put the icing on the fuckin cake.”

Derek stands in front of you, breathing heavily. Another pair of footsteps comes quickly, Jasmine’s figure appearing. 

“Derek!”

“Maybe you should listen to her, Derek. She always has such great things to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I know about your sneaking around and the marks on your goddamn necks! Did you really think I wouldn’t know? I thought you would have some sort of decency to try and hide it, but you made it known to everybody but me! You’re mad I embarrassed you in front of people who “love” and “support” you? Good! Maybe people will see who you really are. A liar, a cheat, and a terrible coach.”

Derek raised his hand, but before it made contact with your face, a hand caught him by the wrist. You turned to see not Colin? A hand pulled you backward as the person stepped in front of you. A jersey with the number nine blocked Derek from your view.

“Wouldn’t want to cause a fuss would you mate? Not with the cameras.”

You hear Colin whispering in your ear as he pulls you to walk with him. You stare at the player wearing the number nine and Derek in a standoff. You want to see how the moment plays out but the next thing you know, you’re sitting on a bus with the rest of the Richmond team. All you can do is stare into blank space as before a hand invades your vision. You see number nine with your bag in your hand.

“I think this belongs to you, darling.”

You take the bag from his grasp, thanking him. He smiles at you before walking towards the front of the bus for a seat. You could finally relax. The bus takes off back to Nelson Road, the drive calming you down. A constant buzzing from your bag pulled you from your trance. Your phone. You dig through your bag to find Twitter once again popping off. Except this time, it was photos of you being carried by Colin with the team. There were pictures and clips of you performing. Fans tweeted how much they loved you while others would make a great episode of Thirst Tweets. You shut the phone off and leaned your head back on the seat.

Maybe some would think you did something bad, but god did it feel so good.

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

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[rosiesramblings]

My Mummy and My Simon

Fandom: Ted Lasso

W/C: 1.5k

A/N: Ok, I'm back with a fic, but fair warning it isn't a tickle fic. This has been rotting in my drafts for months and I just happened to be struck by the inspiration stick today. I hope you enjoy anyway!

“This is my Mummy and my Simon.”

It was how Jamie had introduced them for as long as he could remember. When he was a lad, he felt special when he said it - everybody and their Mummy had a Da, but Jamie was the only one with a Simon.

Jamie didn’t see them as often nowadays, with the distance between Richmond and Manchester, but he suspects that if he had anyone to introduce them to, that was still how he would do it.

He wasn’t sure why he was thinking about it, to be honest, while he stared at today’s post on his kitchen island. His housekeeper usually brings it in when she arrives and leaves it for Jamie to sort through. It’s rarely anything special - who uses the post anymore? - just the usual notices from the town and sometimes one of those circulars with coupons from the Tesco. Jamie wasn’t really sure why he felt so sick when he looked at it that day, until his brain processes what his eyes have already seen - the neatly typed James Tartt, Jr. across the front of one of the bills.

Jamie hated his full name with a passion - forever a reminder of the man who haunts his nightmares, the man who Jamie himself could become if he’s not careful. Jamie grimaced and turned away, forcing back the memories of what had happened when James overheard him telling someone that he lived with his Mummy and his Simon.

Simon was an odd duck, to be sure, but then again so was Jamie. He was a large man, still taller than grown-up Jamie, but he never made Jamie feel small or unsafe. Jamie was pretty sure it was impossible for Simon to make anyone feel that way, with his soft pastel jumpers and his obsession with that baking show and his job at the library. When it took Jamie so much longer than the other kids to learn to read, Simon never said a word about it, just gifted Jamie CD’s that Simon had recorded of himself reading Jamie’s favorite books for Jamie’s eighth birthday. He was pretty sure Simon didn’t know that after Jamie got his first Premiere League cheque, he had paid someone to put the recordings on his new phone. Jamie still listened to Simon’s voice read Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief when he came down with a cold.

Jamie fixed himself a post-training smoothie and sighed. Roy was bringing Phoebe over for Jamie to babysit since Roy had a coaches meeting and Ruth was busy saving lives at the hospital. Jamie idly washed out his blender, thinking of Simon and Mummy and how he really should give them a call soon. He was so lost in thought he didn’t hear Roy and Phoebe let themselves in before they were in his kitchen and Roy said, “Why the fuck do you get that wanker’s post sent to your house?”

Jamie whirled around, hand on his racing heart, before he processed what Roy was saying. “What?”

“Hi Jamie!” Phoebe waved cheerfully before going right over to the coffee table where he had gotten out the coloring books he kept specifically for Phoebe Days.

“Why is your arse of a father getting his post here?” Roy restated, gesturing to the pile of mail on the counter. “Thought you said you didn’t talk to him anymore?”

“I don’t,” Jamie said, confused. “That’s my post.”

Roy did a double take. “You’re named after that piece of shit?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you change it?”

“I did change it.” Jamie said. “Don’t go by James, now, do I?”

“I meant legally,” Roy explained. “So you don’t have to be fucking James Tartt Jr. in the fucking public record.”

“You can do that?” Jamie asked, incredulous, just as Phoebe called, “That’s five pounds so far, Uncle Roy!”

“Put it on my tab,” Roy called back. “And yeah, you can do that, you muppet. Costs like fifty pounds and might take a couple of weeks for the paperwork to come back, but you can do it. I still badger Ruth sometimes to change her name back to Kent, but she doesn’t want the fucking publicity.”

“Huh,” Jamie said, a whole new world of possibilities opening up before him. Roy kissed Phoebe goodbye and left for his meeting, and Jamie and Phoebe spent the afternoon coloring and playing kickabout in the yard.

***

A few days later, Jamie found himself on some government website, since you can do everything on the internet these days. He carefully typed Jamie into the form where it asked for what he wanted his new first name to be, cause it would be super embarrassing to have a typo and then have to do the whole thing all over again. The next box asked if he wanted to change his middle name, and Jamie paused. He hadn’t thought about that.

Jamie thought of James. He thought of Mummy, and he thought of Simon, and found he didn’t really need to think about it at all.

***

Simon’s birthday rolled along, and Jamie made the usual arrangements to donate to the library in Simon’s name. He’d done it every year since he could scrounge up the money, mowing lawns of council estates after Under-10’s training and looking after neighborhood kids until he had enough for a ten or fifteen pound donation. It never failed to bring a tear or two to Simon’s eyes, even now that Jamie had more money than he knew what to do with and made monthly donations to Simon’s library anyway, not that Simon knew that.

Jamie packed a bag to go and visit Manchester for Simon’s birthday, and as he printed his receipt showing the library donation to give to Simon, his eyes lingered on the email he’d received from the Royal Courts of Justice, notifying him that his change of name had been processed successfully. Before he could talk himself out of it, Jamie printed that off too, carefully folded it up with the donation receipt, and placed it in a small gift bag patterned with cheerful yellow ducks. It was made for kids, but Jamie knew Simon would appreciate it.

The drive to Manchester wasn’t too long, especially once Jamie put on Simon’s narration of the second Percy Jackson book. He’d made it through a good fifteen chapters by the time he was pulling his flashy car into the old familiar row of council estates.

Georgie shrieked, as she always did, when she flung open the door to her ‘sexy little baby!’ and Jamie picked her up and swung her around. 

Simon’s familiar, “Oh, there they go!” sang in Jamie’s ears as he put Mummy down and turned to wish Simon a happy birthday. 

The three of them migrated to the kitchen, Simon having made an impressive array of Jamie-friendly desserts. Georgie and Jamie sang an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday, and Simon pretended to conduct them with his candy thermometer. Soon enough, Jamie was pushing his be-ducked gift bag onto the table in front of Simon.

“Now, what could this be?” Simon grinned as he snagged the donation receipt from among the tissue paper. He unfolded it and, to no one’s surprise, unsuccessfully blinked back tears. “Oh, Duckie, thank you so much!” he said, and launched into an explanation of the new kids learn-to-read program that the donation would fund for the next year.

Not expecting anything else, Simon placed the receipt back in the bag and reached for Georgie’s gift. “Actually, there’s one more thing in there,” Jamie said sheepishly.

“More!” Simon mouthed amazedly to himself as he went back to the yellow bag. Jamie watched with anticipation as Simon drew out the email and carefully unfolded it, squinting his eyes a bit as he began to read.

Jamie watched as a dumbfounded look came over his stepfather, and he opened his mouth to start to say he could always change it back, but before he could Simon looked up at Jamie and burst into tears. Georgie startled, and Jamie leapt up in alarm, not sure whether to run away or try and comfort him. Simon made the decision for him when he stood and threw his arms around Jamie, still sobbing noisily.

Jamie, bewildered, gingerly patted Simon on the back, before swallowing and asking, “It’s alright then?”

Simon just sobbed louder, clumsily running his fingers through Jamie’s hair as Georgie muttered, “What on earth?” and snatched the paper from her husband’s hand. Before long, she too was sobbing, though still quite a bit more composedly than Simon. There, clearly written on the page, were the words: Official Change of Name - Jamie Simon Tartt.

Eventually everyone calmed down enough for Simon to say that it was more than alright, that he loved Jamie so much, that he was so honored by Jamie’s choice, and that was enough to get Jamie and Georgie with the waterworks again, Simon himself following not long after. 

They sat on the sofa for the rest of the evening, watching old reruns of Simon’s baking show and eating too many of Simon’s desserts. Jamie sat between his Mummy and his Simon, who wouldn’t let go of his boy for anything, relishing in the evening spent with his family.