#three just wants to spend some time with jamie and two just wants to get out of there

[boywhoswaiting]

“If you want to have a chat with Jamie you’ll have to speak to him in your own timeframe. Wherever he’s got to”

No wait-

…

He still thinks Jamie is travelling with him… I was wondering this whole time whether Two was thinking that Jamie was going to leave him one day but somehow this hurts even more 😭

[moonlightspencie]

only like you can

Description: based on ‘already over’ by sabrina carpenter— ex boyfriend!james and reader just can’t seem to stay away from each other.

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Warnings: some suggestive content (pg-13 pretty much), angst with a happy ending, lily evans is mean in this one for the plot

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: aging them up to allow for the suggestive content. they’ll be 19 in this (first year starts at 14 instead of 11)

here’s the playlist

Running through the halls as a first year with your brand new group of friends, you never would imagine you’d end up dating one of them. You definitely never thought you’d have a break-up with one of them.

But, you just had to fall for Jamie in your third year. And he just had to ask you out in fifth. You were blindsided by his confession in the best way, and falling into a relationship with your closest friend was as easy as falling asleep.

Overexcited hugs after he’d win a quidditch game turned into kisses. Whispers of goodnight as you headed off to different rooms turned into sneaking into one another’s beds. The casual ‘I love you’ between friends turned into a kind of love that had both of you thinking about the future.

But, things changed again after a year.

Accusations started getting thrown around left and right. He’d say that you weren’t making time for him anymore. You’d argue that he seemed more interested in spending time with Lily. A back-and-forth would always spread like wildfire until you couldn’t breathe.

The break up was mostly mutual. You said you wanted it to happen, but you knew you were lying to yourself. He agreed, but it was only because he didn’t want you to know he was still invested. It left both of you putting happy faces over broken hearts, agreeing that you’d still be friends despite the fact that you knew you’d never get over him if he stuck around. But, never getting over him still felt better than losing him entirely.

You were sat in the common room, laughing over some dumb joke Sirius had made at Lucius Malfoy’s expense. The fire was blazing, keeping you all warm in the late-autumn that was otherwise freezing. You were next to James on the couch, Sirius was on the floor in front of the fire, and Remus and Peter were in a couple of chairs. It was nice. Cozy. But, coming down from your laughter, you let your head drop to the side, finding a familiar comfort.

Remus looked at you as you did, quirking a brow. You’d landed on James’ shoulder.

“You two back together?” he asked.

“Oh,” you said, quickly lifting your head again. “Sorry, Jamie.”

He shook his head. “It’s alright. Habit.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

A tense silence fell over the small group. Then, James stood.

“I’m going to grab a sweater. Be right back,” he announced, walking towards the stairs.

You looked after him until he was out of your sight, turning your head to find three pairs of eyes on you.

“Love,” Sirius said cautiously, almost grimacing.

“I know,” you sighed, leaning back into the couch. “I know. I just— It’s hard.”

He sighed, moving from his spot to sit in James’ spot on the couch. He tossed an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side a little.

“Might help if you two quit finding ways to be next to each other every time we go someplace,” he said quietly.

You nodded. “I know.”

“Why did you two break up if you both clearly want to be around each other all the time?” Peter asked, furrowing his brow.

“We weren’t good together.”

The three boys shot each other similar looks, knowing there was nothing they could say to help you in that moment. You merely sighed, staring into the fire as Remus tried to redirect the conversation.

James came back a minute later as they chatted over some fiasco in Potions class, a sour look on his face when he saw Sirius had taken his spot. His brow only set harder when he saw the arm around your shoulders. He sat in another chair, following your gaze into the fire, not wanting to look at his best friend and now-ex-girlfriend practically cuddling. It made him sick.

You didn’t feel much better, noticing him looking so downtrodden and being unable to kiss away that frown of his.

But you had to remind yourself of why you broke up in the first place. ‘It’s for the better’, you kept repeating to yourself in your head, trying to block out how badly you wanted to just talk to him. It was getting ridiculous, you knew that. It didn’t make it any easier, though.

“I think I’m ready for bed,” you mentioned after half an hour of sitting quietly.

A small chorus of ‘goodnight’ followed you to the stairs, and you trudged up to your room, feeling gloomy. You brushed your teeth, washed your face, and pulled on your pajamas. It was days like this that you were glad you got a single room for the year. You settled into your bed, cracking open the book on your nightstand to practice a little escapism. You were two chapters deep when you heard a knock on your door.

You crawled out of bed, rubbing your eyes as you went to open the door. When you pulled it open, your eyes went a little wider.

“Hey,” James said, looking shy.

You swallowed. “Oh. Hi.”

“Could we talk? Please?”

You contemplated it for a moment, trying to tell yourself it was a bad idea. But it was late. And you missed him. And you really didn’t want to turn him away.

“Yeah. Come in,” you said quietly, a small smile on your face.

He walked in slowly, unsure, as if he hadn’t spent the entirety of the past year sneaking in every other day. You looked at his back for a moment, noticing him with his hands up in front of his stomach.

“Don’t pick at your nails, Jamie,” you said, moving around him to sit on your bed.

He chuckled softly. “How’d you know? You couldn’t even see my hands.”

“How wouldn’t I know?”

His smile faded a bit at that. “Right.”

You sat quietly for a minute, practically hearing the gears turning in his head. He stared out the window in your room, his brows a little furrowed.

“What is it, James?”

His eyes snapped to yours. He sighed, looking at your bed.

“Can I sit?” he gestured next to you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, scooting to give him some more room.

He sat, looking around at anything but you.

“What’s up?”

He shrugged. “Uh, I don’t know. It’s probably nothing, you know.”

“You came to talk to me about it.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, chuckling to himself humorlessly. “I don’t want this to come across weird.”

“It’s fine, James. I’m used to you.”

He smiled, though it dropped quickly. “Is there something going on with you and Padfoot?”

Your eyes went wide, a laugh escaping you.

“Excuse me?”

“He took my spot on the couch. Kinda cuddling you.”

“James,” you said, getting his attention. “That’s insane. He sat with me because I was sad. He was being a friend, like every other time he’s hugged me or comforted me.”

He nodded, letting out a breath. “Sorry. Just got a little paranoid, I guess.”

“That’s okay. I get it.”

He swallowed. “Do you not want to be around me?”

“Why would you ask that? We agreed to be friends after…”

“I know, but I just don’t know how to act around you now.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this, either. We’re in a weird place, now.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out.

You looked at him for a moment, and he shot you another shy smile. It was strange to see him so timid, but you couldn’t help but smile back. Even acting so strangely, he was still the same old Jamie.

“Is that all? I’m pretty tired.”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah. That’s it. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

He started standing, and you walked him to the door. He suddenly pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly to his chest. You leaned into him, relishing in that feeling while you could. He pulled away, opening your door.

“Night, Jamie.”

“Goodnight,” he smiled, not moving.

He quickly leaned down, just barely pressing his lips to yours, but it was enough to send your heart fluttering. He pulled back as quickly as he leaned in, muttering a quick ‘sorry’ before leaving. You shut your door, the tension in your body finally releasing. You fell into a restless sleep that night.

The following week felt as difficult as the first week after the break up. Sirius and Remus would try to comfort you, and Peter would offer silly jokes to stop you from looking so sad all the time.

You’d gone to dinner with Remus and Peter after they’d pleaded with you that night, figuring you still needed to eat despite your feelings. No sense in making yourself feel even worse if you could help it.

Dinner was surprisingly good. You laughed with the two boys, almost forgetting about your troubles as you chatted with them. Until you heard a pretty loud mention of ‘James’ coming from a few people down the table.

You paused, listening when you heard his name come out of Lily’s mouth. You focused hard on your plate, hoping she’d keep up her volume. Yeah, it was probably wrong to snoop, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care all that much.

“… Maybe this weekend,” she said, a few giggles coming from her friends. “He always goes to Hogsmeade on Sunday afternoons.”

“Now that he doesn’t have that girl hanging on him, you actually might have a chance,” one of her friends added in, to which you clenched your jaw in annoyance.

“Maybe. He’s been pretty off since they broke up.”

“Good,” another girl added. “It probably means he needs a reason to move on.”

You decided you’d heard enough, standing from your spot.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked, looking to Remus with a frown.

“Common room. I’ll see you guys soon,” you said, waving a goodbye to both boys.

You were fuming as you walked back to the common room. It hurt more than you thought it would to think about him with anyone else, but especially her. You’d never been too sure about her intentions with the friendship she had with James, and this just solidified your concerns. Not to mention, her friends clearly didn’t like you. You didn’t even know them, and they had to nerve to talk about you like you were merely an inconvenience the whole time. You were stewing in that feeling, trying not to let it affect you too much, and failing miserably. You didn’t even notice your name being called behind you.

“Y/N,” he called again.

You looked up, turning towards James’ voice. His face dropped when he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, rushing forward to you. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Just upset.”

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He sighed, leaning over to catch your eye. You chewed on your lip, the pit in your stomach only growing. You couldn’t stop thinking about Lily’s plan for the weekend, especially now that you were face to face with him.

“It matters to me,” he said softly. “Please? I just want to help.”

“You can’t help, Jamie,” you shook your head.

He was silent for a moment, thinking. You fiddled with your hands, looking down at your shoes. He called your name again, quietly, to get your attention. You looked up, heart still fluttering when you looked in his eyes.

“How about we go steal some of Mooney’s chocolate and just sit for a while?” he offered. “Then, maybe we can talk later?”

You couldn’t help but smile a little at the suggestion. You didn’t even think it could be considered stealing anymore. Remus always stocked up extra on his desk, knowing his roommates were prone to grabbing some every now and then.

“I’m taking that smile as a ‘yes’,” he said, a smile growing on his own face. “Come on.”

You walked alongside him as you headed towards Gryffindor tower, holding yourself back from taking his hand. Particularly flexing your self-control muscle when his fingers would brush softly against the back of your hand.

“You know, he just got some with caramel in the middle,” James mentioned as you climbed the stairs.

“Yeah? Are they any good?”

“Mm,” he nodded enthusiastically. “Very. I think you’ll like them.”

You laughed. “Sounds like you do, doesn’t it?”

He snorted a laugh. “How’d you tell?”

“It’s my sixth sense.”

“Sure, it is,” he responded. “I always thought it was knowing when I was picking at my nails.”

“See, that’s just me knowing you after all these years. Bit different.”

He chuckled, saying the password to let you into the common room. The portrait swung open, and he snuck you up to the boys’ shared room.

“Here we are,” he said mischievously, walking towards Mooney’s desk.

You shut the dorm door, walking over as he handed you a few chocolates.

“Thank you.”

“Thank Mooney,” he said, smirking. “Let’s sit. Come on.”

You took a breath, sitting with him on his bed. It all felt okay, until you remembered why you were there in the first place.

You opened the wrapping on one of the chocolates, popping it in your mouth silently. James watched you, sighing softly when you didn’t say anything after a few minutes.

“Don’t like when you’re quiet like this,” he mumbled. “Scares me.”

“Scares you?” you questioned.

“Well, last time you were quiet like this, we had a conversation that…” he shrugged. “It wasn’t very fun, was it?”

You hummed. ‘Not very fun’ was an understatement. The day you broke up, you sobbed until you threw up.

“Sorry,” you said. “I could start yelling if you’d like?”

He laughed. “Don’t think I’d like that much, either.”

You smiled, though it was half-hearted. He could tell.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

You shrugged. “I’ll just have to get over it. I don’t think there’s much to talk about, honestly.”

“Alright,” he conceded. “Would it make you feel better to… I don’t know. Read?”

“You’d read?” you asked, amused.

“No, I’d made you read to me,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his.

“Don’t know if I’m up to that, right now.”

“Later?”

“When?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe tomorrow?”

“What’s today? Friday?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You considered it, liking the idea of spending more time with him despite how bad of an idea it was to be alone. Especially after last time.

Then, a worse idea came to mind.

“How about Sunday?”

He raised a brow. “Sunday?”

You nodded. “If that’s okay. I know that’s a Hogsmeade day, but everyone will be out of the castle. We’d get to sit by the fire in the common room. It would be nice and quiet.”

He cracked a small smile. “That does sound nice. Can I pick the book?”

“Of course,” you nodded.

You knew it was a little underhanded, taking him away from Hogsmeade for the day. It was really just a form of delaying the inevitable. He was bound to move on eventually. But why did it have to happen that weekend? He could wait a little bit longer, you reasoned.

Though, you still knew the real reason was that you would do anything to keep him from hanging off of someone else’s lips. You didn’t quite care if it was a bit selfish.

Saturday came and went. Sunday morning you woke up with a small smile on your face. Despite the fact that it may have been a bad idea to set aside alone time with your ex, especially just to get him away from another girl, it felt nice to relish in the familiarity of being with him.

Hours later you were curled up on the couch with James looking over your shoulder as you read to him. He’d make a stray comment here and there about the plot or laugh at the jokes, but was otherwise surprisingly tuned in. You were halfway through when he yawned.

“Tired?” you asked, pausing your reading to look up at him.

“A bit,” he shrugged. “Didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Oh.”

You furrowed your brow as you looked away, then glanced back at him.

“Everything okay?”

He nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. “Just too excited for you to read to me, I bet.”

You chuckled, ignoring the heat in your cheeks as you turned back towards the book, ready to start reading again. Then, he started shuffling around.

“What are you doing?” you asked with a sigh.

“Gonna lay down,” he shrugged, “Can I…”

He paused, scrunching up his face a bit. You watched him, questioning.

“Can you what?”

“Probably a bad idea,” he said shortly, shaking his head.

“Just tell me.”

He looked a little shy as he glanced at you. “Was gonna ask if I could lay on your lap.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding once. “Well, as long as you don’t try any funny business, I don’t see why not. It’s preferable to you putting your feet on me if you lay the opposite way.”

He laughed. “I suppose that’s true.”

He waited another moment, then started laying down, his head resting on your legs. Once he was comfortable, you started reading again. After a while, you weren’t even sure if he was awake anymore.

Even more time passed, and you heard him softly snoring, a smile on your face as you looked down at him, one of his hands having squeezed it’s way under your leg. You ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly, continuing your reading silently.

An hour later and you were finished with the book, your hand still brushing through his hair as a habit. You watched him for a few minutes, letting out a soft breath.

“Jamie,” you called quietly, the hand in his hair moving to brush across his cheek. “James.”

He stirred, groaning. “Mm?”

“You fell asleep,” you said with a grin. “I let you nap for a little over an hour, but if you want to sleep tonight you should probably wake up.”

He grumbled, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. “Don’t wanna get up.”

“Always so grumpy when you wake up,” you mumbled, more to yourself than anything. “Come on, Jamie. We can go snag some tea or go for a walk or something.”

He sighed softly, stretching out a little bit before he started moving away from your legs, pulling his hand out from under your thigh. He started sitting up, not realizing he was terribly close to you until you were looking at one another, feeling his gentle breathing fan on your face. You swallowed, trying hard not to glance down at the lips you knew were soft and skilled.

He didn’t care to try so hard.

He leaned in before you knew what was happening, kissing you like it was the first time. His hand came up to cradle your face, tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss, his tongue soft against your lip as he waited for you to grant him access. It certainly didn’t take you long to oblige him.

He leaned his body into you, and eventually started pulling you underneath him, your head hitting the couch cushions as he settled in between your legs. It was all desperation and passion as his hand slipped up under your top, brushing over the fabric of your bra to squeeze gently at your breasts. You leaned into his touch, soft noises escaping you and going directly into his mouth.

You felt his chest heaving against your own as you kissed, his hips rolling against you, desperate for friction that he’d missed for so long. Desperate for you.

You bit at his lip, breaking away only to kiss down his jaw. He hummed softly in satisfaction, but grew impatient, moving to capture your lips with his own once again.

It was only when a real moan managed to leave you and linger in the air that his hand stopped groping at you. His lips slowed, and he finally broke away, catching his breath like he’d been underwater.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words rushed. “I shouldn’t have done that. Again.”

“Not your fault. I kissed you back.”

He chewed at his lip. “We should really stop this before it starts happening more.”

“We should,” you nodded.

He swallowed, eyes roaming over your face. You leaned up, capturing his lips again, this time gently. He allowed it, though this kiss lasted a much shorter time than the previous.

“Maybe we should take that walk,” you said, trying to break the tension.

“Might need to wait a few minutes, love,” he said, not-so-subtly glancing down at his pants.

You laughed, though you felt that funny feeling in your stomach when he called you ‘love’ again. You followed his gaze, raising your brows.

“Yeah. Probably don’t want to go around like that just in case. Not exactly hard to miss,” you snorted.

He rolled his eyes, sitting up straight. You watched him, moving to sit back up yourself. He stared ahead at the fireplace.

“Stop looking at me,” he said, not even glancing in your direction.

“What?” you laughed.

He glanced at you. “It’s not helping my little situation, you know?”

“Me looking at you is making it worse?”

“You existing is hard enough to ignore when I get like this,” he said with a laugh. “Not to mention when you can… You know. See it.”

“Well, I can’t exactly see it. You do still have pants on, you know?”

He chuckled, though he hid his face in his hands as his cheeks turned pink.

“Stop giving me ideas. It’s not fair, love.”

“Alright, alright,” you conceded, ignoring your own… feelings. “I’ll be quiet and look away.”

He nodded, shutting his eyes and letting his head loll back on the couch. You tried hard not to think about how effected he was, and tried even harder not to think about how effected you were. You stared at the window nearest to you, thinking about absolutely anything else. After a few minutes, he sighed.

“Okay. I think I’m good, now.”

You laughed, pulling him off of the couch and pulling on a sweater you’d brought along. You left the common room together, meandering in the halls talking about nothing. Before you knew it, more voices were joining your two in the corridors.

“Oh boy,” you said softly.

“What?”

You looked at James. “You really want to run into our friends right now?”

He hummed, then opened his mouth to speak. Only very briefly, though, as a familiar face came into view.

“James,” Lily beamed, ignoring your presence entirely. “We missed you in Hogsmeade. Why did you stay behind?”

James looked at you, quirking a brow curiously when she said ‘we missed you’. She’d never exactly been in the marauders group during Hogsmeade outings, and both of you knew it.

“Was just busy,” he shrugged.

“Too busy to hang out with us?”

“Who’s ‘us’?” James laughed. “Did you join in with the boys today?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Just… Thought it might be nice if you would have been around so we could have spent some time together.”

You held yourself back from rolling your eyes as she looked at him, twirling her hair almost cartoonishly as she spoke.

“Maybe some other time,” he said simply. “Had more important things to do today.”

“Aw,” she cooed, laughing to herself. “More important than me?”

You chimed in. “Ooh, with an ego like that, maybe you should try spending time with Sirius.”

James snorted a laugh, though Lily didn’t think it was quite so funny.

“At least I’m not hanging off my ex boyfriend.”

You furrowed your brow, ready to throw an insult right back at her.

“Why is that your business?” James said quickly. “We’re still friends. Friends are known to hang out, you know?”

She ripped her sour gaze from you, looking surprised that James would defend you. He didn’t give her time to reply, taking you by the arm and dragging you away from her before you did something he knew you’d regret. You huffed a sigh.

He started walking you towards the kitchens, you were sure, to get you some tea. You crossed your arms when he finally let you go, once again stewing in your annoyance.

“Trouble in paradise?” you asked, seemingly unable to hold your tongue.

“What?”

“Why did you defend me?” you asked. “I thought you and Evans were like… Involved.”

“Why would you think that?” he asked incredulously.

“After everything…” you stopped. “For one, she sure seems to think you’re an item. Or at least that you will be very soon.”

He sighed harshly. “I know you were always on edge about her, but you know I’ve never felt that way.”

“I was right to be on edge.”

“Why? I never would have done anything.”

You shrugged. “Freaked me out how much she liked you. And how much she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes, she does. Her friends all gossip about me, you know? Like I’m just some obstacle standing in the way of you two getting together.”

“I don’t think that’s—”

“I heard it, James.”

He paused before you entered the kitchens, his brow set.

“What do you mean?”

You let out a breath. “Promise you won’t be mad at me?”

He merely raised his brows in question, waiting for your explanation.

“They were talking a few days ago during dinner and thought I couldn’t hear them. They were saying that you’d be easy to bag now that I’m not around and you’re, like… emotionally compromised.”

“Emotionally compromised?”

“Not in those words, but… Yeah. That was the jist of it.”

He shook his head. “Why would they say that?”

“Because she’s always been into you, James. It’s why I didn’t like you guys together all the time, it made me feel really insecure.”

He had the decency to look a little guilty before he perked back up.

“Wait, why would I be mad at you for that?”

You sighed, wishing you could avoid this particular bit about what you’d overheard.

“She, uh,” you looked away. “She was planning on making a move on you today. That’s why her friends were talking about you.”

“And?”

“And, I might have asked you to stay behind today because I knew about her plan.”

The wall to the side of you looked very interesting in that moment. So interesting, in fact, that you didn’t notice the smirk on James’ face until he started speaking.

“You made me stay back to read with you so Lily couldn’t try to… what? Stare at me all afternoon?”

You frowned deeper seeing the teasing look on his face.

“She’d probably try more than staring.”

“Oh? What, like snogging on the couch and letting me feel you up? Didn’t want something like that to happen?”

You smacked his arm. “Asshole.”

He shook his head, tucking you under his arm as he ushered you to the doors.

“Can’t believe you sabotaged her.”

“So you think—”

“I think it’s kinda hot.”

You bit back a smirk, shaking your head. “Shut up.”

Almost two weeks later and you felt more down than ever. After your tea, you’d had another conversation about how you really shouldn’t be alone like that. You knew it was for the best, but it still hurt to reinforce the idea that Sunday would be nothing more than a post-break up slip-up. James himself started to say it was mistake. He only stopped when he saw your face drop, changing his wording, but still meaning the same thing. You tried shaking it off, but you couldn’t stop the memories of how it felt to be under him again.

Though, it turned out that James wasn’t having it any easier.

“What’s been wrong with you, mate?” Remus asked, walking towards his bed.

James turned his head to look at his friend, his cheek still squished into the pillow.

“I don’t know. I just feel awful.”

Remus sat on the edge of his bed. “You’ve been really off the past two weeks. Something happen?”

James shrugged, not responding.

“You know you can talk to us? Better than rotting away in bed all day.”

“I don’t know, Mooney,” James said, shoving his face back into his pillow. “I just miss her.”

Remus huffed a sigh, patting his friend on the back.

“I know you do.” He readjusted his seat on the bed. “Have you talked to her about, well, anything?”

“Yeah, we tried,” James replied, though he knew that it didn’t exactly go to plan when he did. “Doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“Do you want to opt out of the prank tonight? The boys would understand if you didn’t want to be around her.”

“No,” he said quickly, lifting his head. “No. I want to be there.”

“Alright. You’ll have to get out of bed for that, you know?”

James snorted, pushing Remus off his bed.

“Ah, screw off, Moons.”

Remus chuckled to himself. “Dinner is starting soon if you want to eat. She’ll be there, but we can keep you guys apart.”

“I don’t think being apart is helping.”

Remus looked on, disagreeing, but not willing to argue. “Alright. Well, get ready. I’m going to walk over in ten minutes.”

Remus left the room, heading off to wait in common room to give James some privacy. He was leaned against the back of a couch, fiddling with the edge of his sweater, when you slid next to where he stood.

“Hey, Mooney.”

He smiled. “Hey.”

“Are you going to dinner soon? I was thinking of heading down.”

He nodded. “Waiting on Prongs.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “He okay? He wasn’t in Defense Against the Dark Arts today. Not like him to skip that class.”

Remus swallowed. “He’s been a little under the weather.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.”

“Yeah. He’ll be okay, though.”

You sighed. “Is he coming tonight, still?”

“Mhm,” he nodded. “Just asked him.”

“Okay.”

“Is that… Okay with you?”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He gave you a knowing look, nudging your arm with his own.

“You’ve been a little sad lately. I can tell,” he said quietly. “Think I know why, too.”

You hummed. “I’ll be fine. Just difficult right now.”

“If you ever need anything…”

“I know,” you laughed. “Promise I’ll tell you if I do.”

He smiled, turning back forward and crossing is arms. You waiting in a comfortable silence, though you stood noticeably straighter when James came down the stairs. He stuttered in his steps when he saw you, a shy smile immediately on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Jamie,” you said, returning his smile.

Remus looked between the two of you seemingly in a staring contest for a few seconds before clearing his throat. You both looked at him, clearly a little embarrassed.

“Ready, you two?”

“Yeah,” you said as James merely nodded.

You walked to the great hall in an obviously-tense silence. Remus was starting to regret getting James out of bed, the whole group feeling a little awkward as neither of you could keep your eyes off each other.

“Geez,” Peter started, clearly not reading the room. “You two didn’t stare at each other this much when you were dating.”

Sirius slapped him on the shoulder, shaking his head. You were hoping they’d eat a little faster so that you didn’t have to sit across from James anymore, even though you never minded the view.

Your wish came true, but you weren’t sure if you were in a better position, now. You’d gone back to the boys’ dorm to plan out the prank: turning the black lake blue. What you hadn’t anticipated in this plan was that one of the more uptight prefects would be wandering around the lake when you’d done your magic on it.

You were currently running through the trees, trying to get out of the sight of the boy. Though, at some point James had taken your hand, dragging you behind him. You chocked it up to a force of habit, as you found yourself doing quite often since you’d broken up. But you weren’t sure how much you could blame on habit as he pinned your back against a tree, staring down at you like he was going to kiss you again.

“Jamie—”

“Shh,” he shook his head, bringing a finger to his lips.

You waited in a tension-filled silence, hearing footsteps zoom past, just far enough where you wouldn’t get caught if you stayed still. You stood and listened until you were sure you were in the clear. But James didn’t move.

“He’s gone,” you whispered.

“Yeah.”

“We could go.”

“We could,” he nodded in agreement.

You looked up at him, admiring his features lit up in the moonlight. Your next move you’d blame entirely on gravity. It was magnetic, the way you came together. Neither of your faults, really.

Or so you told yourself.

You kissed him against that tree for far too long, feeling giddy and breathless when you finally pulled away.

“Bad idea,” you stated.

“Really bad idea,” he nodded. “Couldn’t help being alone this time, though. I don’t think it’s our fault.”

You chuckled. “You sound like me.”

“Not a bad thing, I don’t think.”

You shrugged, looking at him with stars in your eyes. You tried thinking of anything to talk about to keep your mouth busy.

“Full moon is coming up.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Mooney started feeling a little sick this morning. Probably’ll get worse the next couple days.”

“Right. You three going with him, again?”

“Yeah,” he nodded again. “You’ll be there to patch us up if we need it, again?”

“Always.”

He smiled, eyes flicking down to your lips again.

“Jamie, don’t do that,” you shook your head.

“Why not? I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know,” you melted a little. “I have too, but if you keep looking at me like that, we won’t just be kissing.”

He raised his brows. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

You chuckled, a smile on his face as he watched you.

“That’s the kind of bad idea I think we couldn’t bounce back from so easily.”

He hummed, jokingly discontent. Though, he did plan on keeping the thought of what could have been in his head for when he was alone. He moved away from you, holding out his hand.

“Let’s go back inside, yeah?”

You nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead you back towards the castle. That Saturday morning he’d come back unscathed from their time during Remus’ transformation. They surprisingly all had, much to your delight. All that had to be down was getting Remus into bed so that he could sleep it off as the morning came around.

You walked into their room that afternoon to find Remus, passed out, tangled up in his blankets. You smiled, leaving a fresh cup of water on his nightstand for when he woke up. All of them seemed to be asleep. It had been a long night.

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Remus’ forehead, then turned to leave.

“Y/N?”

You turned back around, replying in a quiet voice. “Oh. Hi, Jamie. Why are you awake?”

“Dunno. Just couldn’t sleep since we got back.”

You hummed. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” he mumbled. “You do the work for potions yet?”

You shook your head. “No. Not yet.”

“Would it be okay if we…” he started asking, looking at you fully as he sat up. “I don’t understand it. I could use some help.”

You smiled softly. “Of course. I can go get my stuff—”

“I could just come with you,” he said quickly. “Don’t want to wake the others, anyway.”

You nodded. “Okay. Yeah, that’s fine.”

He trailed after you sleepily, and you wondered why he’d want to even try to write an essay running on no sleep. It seemed silly at best, and was outright counterproductive.

He sat in your bed, rubbing at his eyes as he tried listening to you explain what you needed to do for the essay.

“Jamie, I don’t think you’re absorbing any of this,” you said with a light laugh.

He cracked a small smile. “Your bed is too comfy. I always wanna fall asleep here.”

You sighed. “Why don’t you take a nap, then? I can finish my essay and help you when you wake up.”

“You sure you don’t want to lay down, too?”

You snorted. “That’s asking for trouble.”

“Just for a little? Promise I’ll do the work later,” he said, giving you wide, pleading eyes. “You always help me sleep better.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

You set aside your work, laying next to him, pulling a blanket over both of you. He smiled as you snuggled into the pillow.

“What?” you asked.

He shrugged, the smile stuck on his face. “Nothing.”

You closed your eyes, feeling his arms pull you into his chest, but choosing not to say anything about it.

You woke half an hour later, and, as promised, James worked on his essay with you.

It became habit. Every Saturday you’d meet up to work on homework. A way to be together without being together. You mostly held back from kissing him, but he couldn’t always say the same. Then, inevitably, every Sunday you’d feel your heartbreak as you’d have the same conversation about how bad of an idea it was to keep doing this every week.

But you couldn’t stop.

Another weekend, another opportunity to pretend like you the study date in James’ room wouldn’t take a turn. You sat across from him on his bed, a book and some parchment in front of you.

“I don’t know why we have to write an essay on centaurs, anyways,” you huffed. “I feel like we’ve already discussed everything we needed to in class.”

James shrugged. “At least it’s only two pages. Could be worse.”

You grumbled your dissent, shutting the book after you’d written only half a page. He looked up at you, a smirk on his lips at your dramatics. He rolled his eyes playfully at you, shutting his own book.

“Alright. Do you want to go over the History of Magic assignment?” he questioned.

“Not particularly.”

“Good,” he said with a breath. “I really didn’t want to either.”

You snorted. “Why’d you ask then?”

He shrugged, moving both bits of parchment and the books off to the side.

“Trying to find a reason not to kiss you.”

You rolled your eyes. “We both know that’s a bad idea.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Hasn’t stopped us before, though, has it?”

You bit back a smile, not moving when he moved closer towards you. He reached a hand up, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip with the rest of his hand resting on your jaw. You watched him carefully, taking in the way his eyes sparkled as he looked at you in the warm lighting.

“Jamie…”

“Tell me you don’t want me to.”

You shook your head. “I can’t say that.”

He nodded, moving even closer, almost waiting for a sign that you’d push him away. That sign never came. He leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours until you took the lead, finally pressing against him. He pulled you into his lap immediately, arms holding you in like he was afraid you’d slip away from him if he didn’t. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand playing with the soft hair at his neck the way he always loved.

He smiled into your kiss, deepening it when you pushed up against him desperately.

Good things never seemed to last, though.

The door swung open suddenly, and you jumped away from James, clearly having been doing something you really shouldn’t have been. Sirius stared at the two of you, a look on his face that you seldom saw from him.

“We were just—” James started, but stopped immediately.

You were just what? There was no way to explain your way out of what Sirius had seen.

He shut the door behind him. Lingering near it with his arms crossed.

“Pads…” you said, unsure what you even wanted to say.

“You’ve got to stop this,” he said plainly, looking between you both. “Whatever this is, it needs to be done. The sneaking around was cute in the beginning, but I’m sick of it, now.”

Your stomach dropped, scooting even further away from where James sat stock-still on the bed.

Sirius sighed. “I love being your friend, both of you. But, Y/N, comforting you every time this happens is insane. Especially when you’re trying to pretend it isn’t because of you two holding on to each other when you clearly think you shouldn’t be.”

You nodded solemnly. He shifted his attention to James.

“I’ve had to listen to you cry yourself to sleep too many times, mate. It’s been months of this. You keep hurting yourselves and each other over and over again, and for what? An easy lay?”

“It’s not like that,” James said quickly.

“Then what is it?” Sirius asked pointedly.

You swallowed, turning to see James look like he was holding back tears as he stared back at his friend.

“I— I love her,” he said breathlessly. “You don’t know what this is like, Sirius. She’s my…”

You found yourself staring at him as he spoke, your heart beating out of your chest. You swallowed with a dry throat, unsure what to do. You felt frozen.

“You both agreed you couldn’t be together anymore, did you not?” Sirius asked, though not without a softness in his tone. “I’m sorry this is hard for you both, I am, but it’s been hard for the rest of us, too. We’re constantly wrapped up in trying to help you both out of this, but you keep going back behind our backs when you know it’s just hurting more.”

“I don’t know what to do,” James said, turning his gaze to you. “I don’t know what to do. I— I don’t know how I’m supposed to just be your friend. I don’t know how I’m supposed to pretend like I’m not in love with you. Like I haven’t imagined marrying you since we were fifteen. I don’t know why you wanted to break up.”

You felt tears sting your eyes. “You said you wanted to, too.”

“I lied,” he exclaimed. “I only said that because I was scared. I didn’t want to admit that I never wanted to leave you when you were telling me you didn’t think I was worth it anymore.”

Your mouth dropped open, tears falling down your cheeks. “I never said that.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut again. Before you had a chance to say anything else, he was launching himself out of bed, pushing past Sirius and out the door.

“Jamie—” you tried, though it fell on deaf ears.

You buried your face in your hands, letting your tears fall. You felt the bed dip next to you, Sirius’ arms curling around you and pulling you in. Your head fell on his shoulder as you cried.

“I didn’t know he didn’t… I thought he wanted things to end. I didn’t know he’s been so upset.”

His hand rubbed on your back. “You’ve both been holding onto this for too long. At this point, do you even want to be broken up?”

“We were always arguing together. The last two months we were together was nothing but going at each other.”

“What about now?”

You wiped your eyes, looking at him. “What do you mean?”

“Do you still think it’s for the best? Because you clearly can’t stay away from each other,” he said, then sighed. “Either you guys need to distance yourselves or get back together. I hate seeing you cry like this.”

“Even if I wanted to be with him, I don’t think it would work.”

“Why not?”

“He wouldn’t want—”

“He just told you he’s in love with you,” Sirius exclaimed. “He never stops talking about you and how much he misses you. He cries himself to sleep over you, and then dreams about you when he finally passes out. Of course he’d want to be with you, don’t be stupid.”

Your eyes widened. “Since when are you mean to me?”

“Since you started talking with no sense. You’re supposed to be the smart one out of all of us.”

You smiled, shaking your head as he laughed.

“Just, quit acting like you two aren’t crazy for each other. You have been since we were kids,” he said, shrugging in disbelief. “You need to talk to him. And I mean talk, not…” he raised a brow.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“You know where he ran off to?”

“Probably that silly tree of his in the courtyard?”

He nodded. “That would be my guess.”

“Thanks, Siri,” you said, hugging him before you stood. “Wish me luck.”

“If either of you comes back crying, this better be the last time,” he said, hiding a smile with raised brows.

“I’ll do my best,” you smiled, leaving the room.

You were right about where he’d be. You walked up to James as he sat on the ground under the tree, staying quiet for a few moments as you breathed in the cold air.

“Why are you here?” he asked, looking straight ahead.

“Sirius talked some sense into me. He’s being surprisingly mature today. It’s scary.”

He nodded. “He does that on occasion.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

He shrugged. “S’fine.”

“It’s not,” you replied, shaking your head. “I keep hurting you, and I hate that. I didn’t know it was that bad for you.”

“How couldn’t you?”

“When we had that conversation, when we broke up, I thought you’d be fine. I was convinced you’d be better off without me, and I thought that maybe we’d be better as friends. We wouldn’t stop arguing over stupid shit.”

“We could have worked it out.”

“We never talked about it.”

He sighed. “I guess.”

You let a silence wash over you for a minute, feeling him moving a little closer to you.

“It’s cold out here. You’re not dressed warm enough.”

“I’m fine. Not cold yet,” you said.

He hummed. “What did Sirius say?”

“Thinks we should either stay away from each other or get back together. Really, he told me those were the two options.”

“So you came out here to let me down easy for the last time?”

You reached out, touching his arm. He looked at you, furrowing his brows. You smiled softly.

“I was actually coming out to see if you hated me. In the hopes that you don’t—”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

His face softened. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. Please.”

“Jamie, I never stopped loving you. I shouldn’t have ever… I wish we would have just talked about everything. I hate not being with you,” you confessed. “Like, shit, James, we started scheduling study dates just to be around each other. I’ve never seen you so passionate about homework.”

He laughed. “It was never the homework I was excited about.”

“Me either.”

He watched you carefully. “You’d… You actually want to try this again? Us?”

“If you’d have me.”

He let out a breath, hands moving to your face as his lips pressed against yours. This time entirely uncaring if anyone saw you. He pulled away, pressing several soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead until you were laughing, pushing him away slightly.

“You really, really mean it?” he asked.

“Obviously we’ll have to talk about this. We need to make sure we actually communicate this time around.”

“Anything for you, love.”

“But yeah, I mean it.”

He smiled brightly. “Evans is gonna be pissed when she sees us snogging in Hogsmeade this weekend.”

[luvhughes43]

instagram follows | jamie drysdale

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: reader and jamie have been in a relationship for maybe 5 or 6 months and reader hasn’t said anything but the girls Jamie follows on instagram really bother her. she doesn’t want to seem controlling because of her past relationships but she is trying to find a way to bring it up to him. so one day she is feeling a little more insecure and Jamie is trying to figure out what’s wrong and she finally snaps and tells him. like she would say “you haven’t unfollowed any girls on the gram since we started dating and it makes me feel horrible about myself”

word count: 1.1k

you knew it was an awful idea even before you decided to scroll through your boyfriends instagram following. it was a bad idea for multiple reasons actually - mainly your own body image issues. however, you had seen what seemed like all the tiktoks in existence about men and their instagram usage pre and post relationship. also, it didn’t help that you kept getting recommended videos of girls' devastating reactions to scrolling through their favourite hockey players following. 

when you first clicked on jamies following list, you thought it wouldn't have been so bad. 

Blondes. 

Boobs. 

Brunettes. 

Canadian University Girls? 

you went into a completely unwarranted deep dive because really, jamie had never given you any reasons to doubt his faithfulness and yet… you were a half-tub deep into your litre of mint chocolate ice cream with grey’s anatomy playing distractedly in the background. 

with jamie gone on a roadie, you had time to push all of your feelings of distrust and discomfort to the back of your mind. you had been in this position before, and with yours and jamies relationship so fresh you didn’t want to say anything. last time you had brought your insecurities up with your ex boyfriend, you had been yelled at and called controlling - which you would rather not relive. even though jamie was much nicer than your ex, you were still having trouble trying to find a way to safely bring the topic up, so you dropped it. 

a week later and jamie had gotten back from his trip, completely exhausted but wanting to spend time with you nonetheless, you had tried your best to forget all about his following list. 

“how’s my girl been?” jamie smiles at you sweetly before wrapping you into a hug. the two of you rock back and forth for a moment. 

“oh you know… the usual,” you shrug, silently loving the glint in jamie’s eyes. he was so pretty. 

jamie brings you back into another hug and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “oh i forgot, trevor wants to know if we’ll go out with him tonight,”

“go out where?”

“some new restaurant downtown,” jamie shrugs carelessly as all men do. “do you wanna go?”

you think about it for a moment, did you really want to go out with trevor? ultimately though, you decide that going out would be the perfect distraction you needed. plus, the extra time with your boyfriend might help reassure yourself about your relationship. 

wrong. three hours later you were dressed, ready, and sat uncomfortably between your boyfriend and his best friend. their friends sat across from you, all of whom were single and making comments on all the girls that walked past your table. their comments weren’t out of the ordinary, but you couldn’t help but wonder if jamie felt the same way as his friends. if like his following suggested - he liked appreciating other girls more than he let on. 

“now she’s hot” 

“you should go ask her for her number! look at her ass,”

“i think i just saw a goddess…” 

“i’d let her dog walk me,”

with each comment you shrunk into yourself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of your body and your outfit choice. jamie was quick to notice of course, leaning into you and whispering, “are you okay?”

when you nodded your head in response, jamie only frowned.

when everyone’s food arrives and you were still acting off, jamie questions you again, “no seriously… what’s wrong?”

you smooth the sleeves of your top, “i don’t want to get into it here,” 

“what?” 

“jamie, please just drop it” 

things were tense between the two of you for the rest of the night and instead of trying to work through things, you simply order another drink at the restaurant. by the time jamie drops you off at your apartment you were tipsy. 

“can you tell me what’s wrong now?” were the first words out of jamie’s mouth when you locked the door behind him. 

“no,” you respond quickly. 

jamie was rightfully confused. “yn…” 

you pretend you don’t hear him. “do you want something to drink?”

“no! I want you to tell me what's wrong with you!” jamie was clearly frustrated and tired of your refusal to talk. 

you whip around towards him - still tipsy and upset. “you want to know what's bothering me?” you start, to which jamie nods enthusiastically. “you’re bothering me!”

“what did i do…?”

he was so oblivious sometimes. “i know i shouldn't have looked through your instagram followings but i can't unsee what i saw! all the girls…. i feel sick about myself,” 

jamie tries to speak but you interrupt him, “and i don’t want to be controlling and force you to unfollow them but… i just feel so awful and ugly and like… you have so many options out there that you’re probably interested in and-”

“okay wait,” jamie finally interjects. he inches closer to you, his mind still reeling from how fast you were speaking. “first of all, i don’t look at other girls,” you scoff but jamie keeps talking. “and if my following was upsetting you, you could've just told me instead of bottling up your feelings and getting upset with me” 

“i use instagram like, once a year and i honestly don't look at my following list it’s from so long ago. so, if you want me to unfollow the people that make you uncomfortable than i one hundred percent will” jamie continues, stepping closer to you and grabbing ahold of your hands. 

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, sad and confused all at once. you hadn’t meant to blow up all at once, but your past relationships would have never been this kind to you and so you were unsure of how to react. you were almost positive that you were being controlling and you suddenly felt sick. “i didn’t mean it-”

“yes you did,” jamie’s voice is soft now, his hands comfortingly trailing patterns up and down your arms. “and by the way, i think you're the most beautiful girl that i’ve ever laid eyes on. i’m sorry for making you feel bad. i don’t want anybody else,”

“i don’t want anybody else either,” you breathe a sigh of relief and wrap your arms around your boyfriend. 

the next time you check instagram is when you get a notification that your boyfriend had posted a picture “for the first time in awhile”. the pictures are sweet shots of the two of you, taken by trevor whose presence you can never evade. you get curious again though, clicking on your boyfriends profile only to see that his following had significantly decreased. 

[inkk-tv]

[ ꜰᴏᴏᴛʙᴀʟʟ ᴘᴜʙ ɢᴏʟꜰ : ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ]

Chris plants his forehead on the table, taking a deep breath as he watches the astro turf. He’s well gone, but Lucy and Arthur, who is now just drawing shapes on the inside of her forearm, aren’t much better off. “You two are going to bankrupt me.”

“We’ll put the fund towards a muzzle.” Lucy says off handedly, swiping the marker, and Arthur’s hand to draw a three-by-three grid on his skin. 

in which: Chris attempts to not have another life crisis during a pub golf video and is failing miserably.

3.7k words [ part one ] [ masterlist ] [ part three ]

[oc x arthurtv x chrismd]

[warnings: Excessive drinking, sexual innuendos and light sexual content]

Chris is torn. 

Logically, he knows football pub golf is a content gold mine. It could easily be one of the best videos of the year, especially with the team line ups. On the other hand, the last time Chris filmed a pub golf for Chip's channel some eight months ago, it ended with him so fucked he'd uprooted his entire life twenty four hours later.

Mid to late twenties was not a good time to have a sexuality crisis - and Chris speaks from experience. Why it took 11 drinks and joking that he'd shag his best mate for space hopper-ing over a bollard to realise he genuinely wanted to snog him silly, Chris isn't sure.

In retrospect, he'd probably fancied Arthur way back in sixth form, sitting with him in every class, dragging the poor bloke to join his football team. The biting should have been a hint. 'Cuteness aggression', as a session of hungover googling informed him, is horribly common. Chris was so torn up about it all that he talks it over with Shannon the night after, when he's not sure if the urge to vomit is from nerves, guilt or the hangover.

He tries to tell her that it doesn't have to change things, that he still loves her. But she still calls it off.

He can't really be mad at her for that, so it's amicable. The two of them weren't built to last much longer anyway; if marriage was in the cards, Shannon wouldn't get snippy anytime her mother brought it up and Chris wouldn't feel nauseous every time he saw an advert for rings. If they were destined for 'forever', talk of marriage wouldn't sound like an expiration date.

Chris spends a couple of months sorting out all his shit and takes a long hard look at his own feelings.

Everyone is sort of weird about the break-up. For a while they all sort of act like it's temporary. Once he puts out a statement though, his friends take that as confirmation that it's actually over. Arthur -Hill not TV- and George take him out drinking a few times as self declared experts in heartbreak and the single life. Their ventures have the three of them planning to move in together when their leases expire in October. Harry corrals him onto a few dating apps and Chris humours him because how is he supposed to tell the guy that women are the last thing on his mind and that he's head over heels (and possibly in love with) one of their mates, who is noticeably a bloke.

At least this time the pub golf is for his channel, so if there's another earth-shattering life crisis, he can edit it out at the least. Save himself the embarrassment of seeing the clip every few weeks on TikTok. Luckily, Chris is not the kind of man who loses all impulse control when faced with a couple of pints.

He is admittedly two shots up already and they've only just settled at hole four. If anything's going to set their team back, it's this. Chris knows the moment he sees Jamie, his production assistant, walk out with a tray of wine-glasses all of which were bordering on over-filled with rosé. 

"Oh god," Lucy groans, her head pitching forwards to thud onto the table. Jamie just smiles as he places the three glasses around the halo of blonde hair. Her next complaint comes out muffled. "Why wine? I can't do wine."

"Come on, Luce." Chris grabs her shoulders to drag her back up straight, shaking them a few times for good measure. "Where's all that team spirit gone?"

"Come on En-ga-land, Score some fucking goals." She quotes, putting on the thick northern accent for it.

Seeing as Chris is a little too far gone to keep explaining the rules at each pub without hurling insults at his friends, Jamie's the one who does it this round, citing that each drink must be fed by a teammate.

"I got a great trick for this one," There's a bit of a slur to Arthur's words, but that could just be him and not the alcohol. Then again, he did do a shot when they got to the pub ‘for fun’ which will most definitely bite them in the arse. "We hold hands and squeeze depending on ho-"

Arthur hiccups halfway through his sentence and it's enough to get a snort out of Chris and devolve Lucy into giggles as he continues. " -how, how much you want."

Chris goes first, and Arthur’s hand is warm in his own as he pours the wine into his mouth. 

Although, when it’s Arthur’s turn and Lucy grabs the wine glass off the table, she frowns. “You’re too tall for this.”

There's not that much of a gap between them with her heels factored in but it's enough that to get her arm up and angle the glass right, it would certainly be uncomfortable for Lucy.

“Come on, tip toes surely.” Arthur says, but she’s already got a hand on his shoulder.

“On your knees, Television.” She says it so calmly, pressing lightly on his shoulder- not enough to push Arthur down, Chris knows he’s stronger than he looks, but he goes anyway.

Something that’s horribly aroused stirs in Chris’s stomach, watching Arthur drop to his knees in front of Lucy, mouth open as she leans down just slightly to press the glass against his lips. He grips her wrist instead of her hand and swallows every mouthful of pretty pink rosé so eagerly that there’s evidence of it left on her skin, little crescent indented where his nails had dug in.

It’s awfully sobering to realise that Chris might actually have to fight a semi while filming.

There’s been jokes about it, in the past few years as his content has matured along with his audience and those sorts of comments were left in the final cut. But Christ, watching Arthur lick his lips clean of wine, not even moving to stand until Lucy pulls him to his feet by the hand, that’s enough to make anyone sexually attracted to men a little off kilter. 

He’s never really had the ‘awkward boners’ at least not since his teenage years. Chris is pretty sure it’s something to do with the messy ball of crossed wires that is his sexuality, the fact he never really gets a hard on for someone he’s not head over heels for but he’s not really put much time into untangling that.

Although, he might need to do that soon. 

Something about the way Arthur looks at her, as if from the moment she put her hand on him, she was everything- the centre of his universe. 

Not that Chris can really blame him. Lucy’s always been captivating like that. He’s not a moron, Lucy’s attractive, objectively. She’s cute, green eyes, light tan to her skin that’s more from sunshine than genetics, and blonde hair that's half pulled back with a white ribbon, a couple strands falling in front of her face. Round cheeks that push up towards her eyes when she smiles, a little tip up to the end of her nose. She’s got the kind of features that would make Chris pause on those stupid dating apps he only swipes though when Harry’s looking over his shoulder. 

Arthur yields so easily for her, blinking at her with those brown eyes and chewing his bottom lip a little, hands still messily entwined together as Harry makes a poor sex joke. 

It’s an orbit that Chris has watched many men tumble into before, the gravitational pull of Lucy Bell. There’s something about the way she carries herself, a confidence that makes eyes drawn to her. On night outs, there’s mixed reactions. George and Arthur Hill love it, girls are more than happy to chat and linger at their table, eased in the risk of approaching a bunch of men in a club by the presence of a woman like Lucy. 

He thinks about all the dickheads he’s seen try and fail to make a pass on her, as Chris picks up the final glass of rosé.

Lucy has, and will continue to, drink Chris under the table, but she is under or just about five foot six. And There's only so many miracles a liver that size can facilitate. Maybe she’s a little further finished than he thought, because when he holds the wine glass up to her, and clasps their palms together, she just isn’t taking it like she was earlier.

“Come on Luce, down in one.” He murmurs, “You got it.”

A little dribble of it runs down her chin and into the curve of her throat, but no one calls her on it and Lucy is left gagging on the taste of rosé that she’d downed. She’s squeezing his hands tight as she recoils and pulls a face. Chris rubs her back and gives it a couple of pats as she leans into his side. “I hate rosé.”

Arthur reappears with three glasses of water, precariously balanced in his hands and he deposits one in front of each of them. It’s the best drink Chris has been given all day and he can’t help the words that slip out. “Oh my god I love you.”

No one blinks at it though, not Arthur, not Chris. He’s said it before, there’s no reason for anyone to think it means anything more than it used to. 

Lucy doesn’t bat an eye, just gives Arthur this awfully soft look before guzzling down half the glass in one go. Until Stephen drops a balled up napkin on the floor and kicks it between her feet, nutmegging her.

Honestly, Chris had sort of forgotten about writing that rule into the video and he sort of feels bad now. Lucy’s probably going to be the only victim of it for the afternoon, because everyone else is far enough gone that they’re a little fuzzy on the rules too.

She and Stephen do shots of baby guinness together (because apparently he just wanted to?) and Chris has to stare into his water glass, tracing patterns on the condensation with his thumb so he doesn’t stare at Arthur and imagine him at the foot of his bed, on his knees for Chris. Complacent and content. 

Chris kind of wants to curl in on himself. 

Beside him, Arthur’s hand slips down from Chris’ shoulder and along his back, stepping around both him and Lucy, hand slipping to her waist and along the curve of it as he ducks back inside the pub. 

There’s jeers from the German team and Cal follows Arthur inside to make sure he’s not chundering in the bathroom. 

“Chris, I’m not gonna lie,” Lucy leans into whisper, “I don’t think I’ll be standing by the end of this video.”

She looks utterly gone. Her eyes are wide, and there’s a little sheen to the column of her neck, maybe from the wine she’d dribbled or the haste to skull the water she was handed. This close, he can see the lines of her makeup, where the eyeliner is a little shaky right at her lash line and the few eyelashes that are clumpy with mascara.

It’s the drunkest he’s seen her in a while, and she’s probably only one drink off of ‘cartwheel Lucy’- the stage of intoxication where she feels the urge to display her impressive coordination that she, annoyingly, never loses no matter how much alcohol she’s ingested.

Chris tips his head forwards and bites her deltoid. Teeth sinking softly into the fabric of her jersey until he can just feel the solidness of her shoulder underneath. Lucy startels, a little, whines then swats at Chris until he retreats half a step.

She looks at the bite mark on her pristine England Jersey, wiping at Chris’ spit as she scoffs and scrunches her nose up a little. "I’m going to catch diseases off you at this rate.”

There’s about half a second where he considers making an STD joke, but there’s a camera sitting on them and it feels a little disrespectful to suggest something like that. 

Lucy frowns down at the black line on the inside of her wrist. “Where’s Arthur, I need a tally mark.”

And the man of the hour is dragged from the Pub’s entrance, clinging to Cal, looking significantly more gone than he had five minutes ago. The wine must have been hitting hard. 

Supposedly, there was no puke, but for the antics Arthur received a red card, putting the English team even further down the hole they’re stuck in. It doesn’t help that the other team all get their drinks down in one.

Not that Chris was really paying attention, he was too busy watching Arthur poke at Cal, enjoying pressing his buttons. 

“How many holes do we have left?” He asks once he’s settled back into his stool.

Chris snorts. “Me after five drinks on a saturday night, am I right?”

Arthur holds his hand up for a high five, but Chris has his arms crossed and his brain is working a little slow to catch it before the palm is descending into a playful smack on his face. He grabs Arthur's hand with both of his and licks a fat stripe up his palm, tongue feeling the roughness of calluses from the gym and the faint taste of beer. 

The reaction is immediate. “Noooo!”

Arthur recoils and wipes his hand of spit on Chris’ jersey. 

Lord, Chris must be so much further gone than he thought, because he just devolves into giggles, even after fully licking his best mate’s hand. It’s only when Jess, his production manager, starts herding them down the footpath to the next pub that Chris finally gets a handle on his giggles. 

Somehow, when they make it to Pub number five, everyone- including his own employees- goads Chris into climbing the tree opposite it. Which earns them two points deducted, so they’ve almost worked off the red card from Arthur’s endeavours with a toilet bowl at the second pub.

The Vodka Oranges are, mercifully, only one standard drink. Although, Lucy’s still looking a little queasy at the prospect of downing it. “I hope this doesn’t have pulp.”

Arthur frowns and holds his drink up in the light to get a better look. “I don’t think so.”

“If there’s pulp I might actually throw up. I can’t do the texture.”

“Can’t say I’m a big fan either.” The downwards tilt of Arthur’s lips is painfully cute and Chris kind of wants to lean over and bite at him, but he’s not supposed to be doing that today. Instead he huddles them closer together, like was in the plan for pub five and they have their half-time strategy meeting. 

“If either of you puke, I swear to god I will never forgive you.” Chris says, focusing very hard on not slurring his words. “We can’t lose to Stephen Tries. He already carries this channel enough.”

“Come on- I’ve done plenty.” Arthur complains. “I got Harry three shots deeper.” 

Admittedly, an impressive feat, but it’s still about thirty less shots than Harry WroeToShaw needs to start feeling the effects of Alcohol and far from enough to recover from all the penalty points he’s been earning. Chris tuts “Only one of us has climbed a tree so I really think that you guys need to step up to the plate at this point.”

The pair just stare at him, and for a moment, Chris sort of loses the plot in Arthur’s eyes. “You’ve got very nice eyes.”

They are. A nice dark brown that sort of looks like pots of honey, mesmerising while Chris blinks into them, with a sort of depth that makes it impossibly easy to sink into them. He’s better at it now, remembering to look away, but the alcohol’s got him a little slower to catch it.

“Christ, they are nice eyes.” Lucy agrees leaning in to get a better look at Arthur, who’s blushing a little from the attention, then towards Chris. “You’ve got good eyes too.”

Arthur nods eagerly. “He does have lovely eyes.”

“Lucy, your eyes are great.” Chris pivots, hoping to save his brain from malfunctioning, onto Lucy, planting a hand on her shoulder to lean in close and study her eyes. 

They’re more green than blue, wide as she processes how close he’s gotten to her. He’s heard people say the grass is greener on the other side, but looking at Lucy’s eyes, it might just be true. It’s almost like staring at the overgrown grass of his childhood football pitch, some streaks a little darker than others, and the underlying feeling that there’s something to be found there, if one cared to look a little deeper than surface level. 

“Oh, they are.” Arthur agrees, squinting a little as he peers at her. 

All three of them have completely lost the whole ‘strategy meeting’ plot that was supposed to be their halftime regroup and by the time Chris untangles himself from their eyes, it’s time to down the vodka oranges that have been sweating condensation down their wrists.

Cal corrals both teams into a cheers and miraculously, everyone manages to get it down in one. 

Thankfully, they’d figured people would be a bit gone by pub five, so a nice lengthy walk proceeds pub six.

Chris just about hangs off Arthur the whole time, who at first is a little distracted by texting George Clarkey in an attempt to convey how ‘sober’ he is, but eventually slings his arm over Chris’ shoulder and lets him stay there. He tries to not stir things, lest he be shoved away, instead basking in the bloody amazing smell of Arthur cologne as it mixes with his deodorant. Chris couldn’t name what either of them smell like, but it’s a scent that’s so uniquely Arthur he wouldn’t be able to associate it with anything else.

“George says he’s gonna come pick me up from the last pub.” He declares, shoving his phone into Chris’ face. It’s a little too close to read, but he squints and tries anyway. Arthur only gives him a few seconds before pulling the screen back and pocketing it. 

At one point in their walk, Chris bites at his wrist where it hangs next to his face but it’s not enough to chase him off. 

“Next pub golf, it’s twenty quid per bite.” Arthur grimaces, whipping the back of his hand of spit down the front of Chris’ jersey. “Lucy had the right idea.”

“I think you owe her a tally mark. Maybe.” Chris frowns, trying to recall if they’d added the last nip. 

“Luce!” He calls. “Did we add the last tally? From Pub four with the rosé?”

She’s about ten meters ahead, tangled up with Stephen as he tries to wrangle her into some kind of hug or headlock, it’s a little unclear which. For a moment the pair of them freeze, and Lucy does that little frown and nose scrunch she does whenever she thinks particularly hard on something. “No!”

Then she kicks Stephen’s sneaker and he bowles over, caught off guard. 

“Yellow card! Yellow card!” Arthur shouts, pointing so obnoxiously that Chris almost wants to tell him it’s rude. “Ref, that’s diving!”

Cal dishes out a Yellow card and Stephen goes back to trying to deck Lucy, via bowling her knees out from under her. But by the time they make it to pub six, he’s managed to weasel a piggy back out of her and the two of them pause by the gate to point out where ‘live music: ChrisMD Diss-Track cover band’ is written in neat print of the blackboard. 

The two of them are gone, and it’s probably lucky that Lucy isn’t the kind of drunk that gets clumsy, otherwise the two of them would never have managed to make it through the beer garden benches without knocking into one. Arthur isn’t as lucky, knocking his shin against one on his way over to the tables his production team has claimed. 

“Ow.” He whines as Chris gets his hands on Arthur’s shoulders, shaking him until they’re at the seats and he’s shoving him off in fake annoyance. “Get off you leach.”

He digs the pen out of his shorts pocket, and bites the cap off, keeping it wedged between his teeth as he calls out to Lucy. Her name comes out muffled around the cap but she deposits Stephen and collapses next to Arthur, who grabs her wrist. There’s an awful lot of concentration on his face for something as simple as drawing a line. 

Chris plants his forehead on the table, taking a deep breath as he watches the astro turf. He’s well gone, but Lucy and Arthur, who is now just drawing shapes on the inside of her forearm, aren’t much better off. “You two are going to bankrupt me.”

“We’ll put the fund towards a muzzle.” Lucy says off handedly, swiping the marker, and Arthur’s hand to draw a three-by-three grid on his skin. 

They fall into their own little bubble as they start up a series of naughts and crosses games. Chris has to kick them under the table to gain their attention when Cal starts explaining the pub-quiz rules. The aim was to guess the cocktail themed pun based on the footballer’s name. 

Chris wasn’t expecting greatness to begin with. He knows his footballers, but Arthur and Lucy don’t really know them by name and face- unless they play for the teams they support. There’s a much higher chance of a Man United player showing up than a Brighton player, so Lucy might be completely out of her depth. 

They manage to break even only because the German team are shouting out the footballer’s names and failing to relate it back to a cocktail, so the three of them can steal the point out from under them By the end of it, they’re left with a martini, a strawberry daiquiri and a rum punch. 

Chris gets the easy way out and is handed the martini, Lucy recoils once she finishes her rum punch, a shiver racking her spine and Arthur struggles to drink his daiquiri that is filled with ice, though a piss-weak paper straw. 

But it’s down in one for all of them, even the other team.

As he hauls himself to his feet, the gin hits him like a truck. Enough that he stumbles half a step back. Chris knows, as he catches the worried look his production team are giving him, that his hope of ending the afternoon without puking, was a lost cause. 

[ part one ] [ masterlist ] [ part three ]

ink note: part two! poor christopher's got it bad. this is our last chris chapter for a while, so pray for the poor lad.

[ if you would like to be added to the fic's tag list, let me know in an ask and you'll be tagged when each chapter goes up :) ]

[veryberryjelly]

🍸 prompt 5 or 6 with james potter maybe?

james potter x reader

prompts ; ' wait don't go, please' + " is this okay ?" " its more than okay "

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !

afternoons spent lounging on james' bed under his cover with delicate and soft kisses being exchanged for hours were your favourite way to spend your weekends.

sometimes you two could go hours without anything being said, just basking in the warmth of each others company.

only today it had been spent slipping in and out of light sleep due to a party going very late last night in the common room.

you had only been awake a few moments when james roused beside you, his head moving to bury in the crook of your neck which only brought a smile to your lips

" morning sleepy head " you said softly, turning slightly to wrap your arms around the boy.

" time is it ? " he questioned, his voice groggy and his eyes struggling to open as he looked up at you.

" quarter to two " you replied, one of your hands lifting to thread through his curls.

" you think we should get up any time soon ?"

" in your dreams am i letting you up "

his words caused a soft laugh to bubble past your lips. you tilted your head to press a kiss onto the top of his head, your arms wrapping slightly tighter around him before you settled.

you were on the verge of falling into another light sleep when you heard the door to james' dorm open and both of your eyes flitted to the door and were greeted with the familiar sight of remus and sirius.

" - could just live above the shop, moony. it might be the only way i'll never be- oh, hello there, didnt mean to interrupt lovebirds "

you were unsure what the beginning of that conversation was but that didnt matter too much. remus and sirius headed to the bed across the room, both sitting on the edge looking over at yourself and james.

your instinct kicked in and you sat up, pulling a sweater over your head.

" you didn't interrupt, i was about to head back to my dorm, i need to shower "

you weren't shy about pda, but you whenever someone walked in on you and james in his bed, you felt out of place. this was their dorm and you felt like you were imposing.

as you moved to slide out of bed james' strong arms wrapped around your torso, halting your effort to get up.

" wait, don't go, please, you can shower here " james pleaded, his tired eyes gleaming up at you in a way that made it almost impossible to say no to him

you lowered your hand down and brushed some curls from your lovers face.

" i'll see you later, jamie, i promise " the hurt on his face might be subtle to anyone else but to you it was practically painted across his face in big black letters.

" i hate it when you have to go back to your dorm- " he admitted, his gaze dropping down to the mattress, his sadness obviously presented in the way he fiddled with the sheets between his fingers.

" i know, but all of my stuff is there, i live there, baby "

" move your stuff here " he blurted out causing disbelief to appear on your face and your sure on the faces of james friends. " i hate it when you leave, baby. i want to sleep with you every night and wake up to you every morning...come stay here " his voice sounded almost desperate and you wanted to melt at his sincerity.

" jamie, you're asking me to move in here when you live with three other people..." you loved waking up with james, the sight of his bed head along was enough to want to sleep with him every night. but he lived with three other people, including another couple.

james finally sat up in the bed and focused his eyes on you. " darling, is that something you would want, yes or no "

" yes, theoretica-"

" is that okay ?" he brought his gaze over to the two boys on the opposite side of the room.

there was a few moments of silence where glances were exchanged between the two boys, but the grins on their faces gave you your answer before they spoke up.

" it's more than okay. we can help you move your stuff tomorrow if you want "

you could feel the joy beaming off of james beside you before you even turned to look at him, but when you did he had a shit eating grin on his face, his bottom lip caught between his teeth waiting for your answer.

" ok, yes, i'll move in "

the minute your answer fell from your lips you were tackled by the boy into one of the most passionate hugs he had ever given you. it wasnt long before remus and sirius jumped in too, their arms wrapping around the two of you.

" welcome to the dorm...don't wake us up in the middle of the night with sex noises "

[illiterateaffairs]

DISTRACTIONS IV | CATCHING FEELINGS

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

rating: T

word count: 2,468

summary: you and jamie are a couple...a couple of besties with benefits! that’s definitely all this is. 

A/N: very excited about this one - even though its a little shorter! also wanted to let you all know since i have chapters planned out almost through the end of the season, i have this idea of revisiting chapters and writing “missing scenes” to fill some gaps, like within this one which you’ll see. let me know if you’d be into that?

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

After Jamie showed up at your door the evening following their loss to West Ham, you did not stop sleeping together. Two nights turned into three, and then into four. Once you passed five, you decided to upgrade your relationship to friends with benefits status. Jamie was honestly happy that meant you considered him a friend. 

The two of you usually hooked up after Richmond lost a game, which had unfortunately been happening a lot as of late. Sometimes Jamie would find you after a training session with Roy to relieve some tension. Occasionally you went to Jamie when you were feeling anxious about work or something reminded you of Mason. And while the team mourned the loss of Zava after he announced his retirement, Jamie was the happiest you’d ever seen him. (You think you might have had the best sex of your life that night.)

At some point, you’d added other locations to your repertoire, other than your bedroom and sometimes your shower. On rare occasions you’d meet up in your office for a quickie, or even Jamie’s car in the parking lot after everyone had left when you couldn’t wait to get home. Only once had you tried to spend the night at Jamie’s, but at the crack of dawn, Roy was banging on his door for another practice. That was the last time you did that. 

You had to admit, you got a thrill out of sneaking around. You’d gotten less skittish at the office, sharing secret looks with Jamie during practices. Rebecca was still the only one who knew. A week into your new arrangement, she’d inquired about your situation, which you explained. She still seemed weary, but less so because of Jamie and more so because she didn’t think a casual relationship was the best idea. If you’d asked yourself a year ago, you would have agreed. But now, you kind of enjoyed the lack of pressure surrounding your dynamic. Jamie was obviously very skilled when it came to sex, but he was also fun to be around. Your pillow talk conversations were often the highlights of your day. You’d talk about your days and vent when you’d need to. Sometimes you’d get little nuggets about Jamie’s life and childhood, and you’d let him in on some details about your life as well. The more you got to know him, the more you liked him.

As a friend of course. Rebecca also warned you that if feelings got involved in your situation, things could get messy. But you weren’t worried about it. Sure, you and Jamie playfully flirt from time to time, but you’d do that around the office in plain sight too. It was just Jamie’s thing. This dynamic you had was just innocent, casual fun. That’s what you two agreed to and that's what you wanted. 

Jamie was also enjoying your arrangement. Unbeknownst to you, from the second he saw you, he’d found you appealing. Though, when he’d found out you were working for the team, he thought any chance of hooking up with you was off the table. Then he assumed you were seeing Sam, and he would absolutely never interfere with one of his best mate’s relationship. But when he’d found out you were available, he’d crumbled under the pressure. He got to know you a little bit, which made it harder to initiate anything. That was until you initiated it that night in his car and he couldn’t have been more thrilled. He honestly hadn’t expected it to go further than that night, but he couldn’t resist you. You were addictive, and extremely good at distracting him. Not just when you were fucking - which was mind-blowing - but also during the in-between moments when you’d whisper to each other under the sheets.Your mere presence was so soothing, he wished he could be enraptured in it all the time. 

That’s honestly the worst part of your deal; that it was secret and he couldn’t just wrap you up and listen to you breathe whenever he felt anxious. 

The fact that you have such a hold on him only adds to his anxiousness, though. He knows that your relationship is strictly sexual, but platonic, and he’s not worried about wanting more than that. He knew he wasn’t exactly boyfriend material, and wasn’t sure if relationships were something he wanted, at least at this point in his life. But he couldn’t help being attached to you. No one’s ever been so kind to him; so attentive and gentle. So, while your arrangement may be fleeting, he wanted to soak up the affection while he could. 

That’s why he feels so off when he doesn't see you around the club today. 

The team had an early training time, so when he didn’t see you before, he figured you probably just hadn’t arrived yet. But then he didn’t see you around lunch time either. He nonchalantly asked Sam if he’d heard from you, as he spotted him while he lifted weights, but his friend hadn’t heard from you either. That didn’t sit right with him.

He tried texting you after that, not once but twice, but you didn’t answer. That was also out of character. He knew it bothered you when there were red bubbles over your apps, but you hadn’t even read the text. 

As a last ditch effort, he even found himself asking Colin or Isaac if they knew anything but of course they didn’t. 

Jamie was nervously staring at your text chain as he walked out of the locker room at the end of the day. Still nothing. Not looking at where he was going, he ends up running straight into Rebecca. He apologizes distractedly before taking another step towards the door, when she calls out to him. 

“She’s at home.” Jamie looks at her with a quirked eyebrow, so she clarifies by saying your name. “She called in sick so I gave her the day off.”

Though he’s grateful for the information, he fidgets nervously, “How did you…”

“She told me about you two, or rather I figured it out. But I haven’t said a word to anyone else,” she explains reassuringly, “Plus you’ve been wandering around like a lost puppy all day. Wasn’t hard to guess why.” 

Jamie flushes, but smiles tightly in thanks before wishing his boss a goodnight. On his way to run some spur of the moment errands, he wonders what kind of things you’ve told Rebecca. 

As the sun sets for the night, you’re finally forcing yourself out of bed. 

You weren’t sick sick. You were on your period, and this morning you’d woken up with a migraine and some of the worst cramps you’ve had in a while. It wasn’t uncommon for you to feel this bad every couple of months, but when it got this severe, there was no way you could function as a human being. So you made yourself persevere through the pain for a few moments to call Rebecca and explain the situation at hand. She was quick to suggest you stay home, and while you weren’t surprised, you still adored her for understanding. Best boss ever. 

When your pain is bad, you can only stomach so much food, so you just pick on things like crackers to hold you over. Now that it was nearing dinner time, and your headache had finally subsided, you were ravenous. You quickly search for nearby pizza places and select the first thing that comes up on Google and place a delivery order. 

While you wait, you curl up with a blanket on your couch and turn on one of your favorite Grey’s Anatomy episodes. You’re only ten minutes in when there’s a knock on your door. You begrudgingly stand up, impressed that your pizza had come so fast. When you pull the door open, you instead find Jamie standing there with a bag of groceries. 

“You’re not pizza.”

Jamie narrows his eyes at you, “And you don’t look sick.” 

Your shoulders sag, “Rebecca told you?” 

Jamie nods, “Yeah, I was worried. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Your heart warms. You pull your door open wider, and he doesn’t hesitate to enter. 

“I’m sorry I worried you,” you shove your hands in your sweatshirt pocket awkwardly, “I’m actually not technically sick, just on my period, which I’m sure is exactly what you want to hear.”

Jamie surprises you by not visibly reacting to your admission.

“Damn, I wish I’d known that, otherwise I would have picked up different things.” he draws your attention back to the paper grocery bag in his hands as he sets it on your coffee table. He starts pulling out items as he lists them off, “I got you some soup, some tissues, a shit-ton of different medicines because I didn’t know what kind of sick you were. Some gummy bears, but that’s just cause I know you like those.” 

You try not to be overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, “Aw, Jamie, you didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs, not making direct eye contact, “Sorry most of it's not very helpful. Although, this might still work?” He pulls one last thing from the brown brag: a carton of Neapolitan ice cream. 

You gasp, immediately taking the item into your hands. “You are a saint. I will be saving this for later.” 

Jamie smiles as he follows you to the kitchen where you transfer the ice cream to the freezer. It's at this moment he also realizes you’re wearing one of his Richmond sweatshirts he must’ve left behind one night. He keeps this realization to himself.

“D’you say you ordered pizza?”

“Yeah. You’re welcome to stay if you want, there’ll be plenty.  

“Where from?”

“Uhh,” you scratch your head trying to recall the name of the place, “Pizzeria Pellegrini, I think?”

Jamie groans, “That place is rubbish, you should have ordered from Lucia’s.”

For some reason, a small smile makes its way on your face, “I’m sorry I didn’t consult you first, Mr. Pizza Expert.”

“Well, now you know,” Jamie pulls out his phone and begins tapping up a storm.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Ordering us a pizza from Lucia’s. You like pepperoni, right?”

“Jamie,” you gasp exaggeratedly, “I already ordered one. It will be here any minute.”

“Well, now you’ll have two, so save room. I’ll get express delivery. I need you to try both so you know which is superior.” he snickers and you roll your eyes, “Anything else I should get?”

You shake your head amusedly, but still ask, “Can you get me a side of ranch, please?” 

Jamie scoffs, “Aren’t you getting some with your first order?”

Okay, he knows you too well. 

“Yeah, but every restaurant has a specific ranch. I can’t have Lucia pizza with Pellegrini ranch, that’s insane.” 

He gives you a crazy look, “No, I think you’re insane.” 

“Look, I’m right and you’re just going to have to deal with it.” 

Jamie shakes his head, but bites back a laugh. He orders you a pepperoni pizza with extra ranch. 

As you lead him back to the couch, you catch him up on your evening plans of binging Grey’s.

“But we don’t have to watch if you don’t want to. We can watch something else, or…”

Jamie sits beside you on the couch and shrugs, “You’re the one feeling like shit, we can do whatever you want.” 

“Alright, then buckle up, Tartt,” you chuckle, pressing play on the remote.

As the episode continues, Jamie asks questions about what is happening and who the characters are. Normally, you’d be annoyed with the constant talking over the show, but you like that he seems genuinely interested. So you fill him in on what has happened in the episode so far, and some backstory for the characters. 

“Wait so there’s a bomb in that person’s body?” “Yup.” And then he’s hooked.

Both of your pizzas arrive at different points during the two-part episode, and you give in and admit his pizza place is better. You even let him share your ranch dressing. However, your eyes widen in horror when he goes to dip a piece of Lucia’s pizza into Pellegrini’s ranch.

“What the hell are you doing?” you exclaim, sitting up slightly. 

“I’m going to prove your theory wrong,” Jamie scoffs, shoving the slice into his mouth. 

You watch in anticipation and smirk in satisfaction when he frowns. 

“Okay, you’re right. This is wrong.” he immediately switches out the cups of ranch.

You bob your head up and down, “Yeah, it's sacrilegious.”

“Each ranch just compliments its own pizza so well!”

You press your hand to your chest and smile, “You get me.” 

After dinner, the two of you treat yourself to bowls of ice cream and settle back into the couch. Jamie lets you lay across it, while your feet rest in his lap. With Grey’s Anatomy becoming background noise, you two chat quietly. Jamie tells you about his day and how stressed out the team has been with all the losses.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you destress tonight,” you joke, referring to your usual nighttime activities that are being cockblocked by your favorite week of the month. 

Jamie chuckles, absentmindedly rubbing your ankle. “S’alright. Just being here’s made me feel better.” 

You look at Jamie thoughtfully as he continues staring at your television screen. Before you’re really aware of what you’re doing, you sit up and plant a light kiss on his cheek.

He turns to you a little caught off guard, but not bothered. “What was that for?”

“Just because.” 

You go back in for a kiss on his lips this time, and he immediately reciprocates. When you pull back, you give him a shy smile before laying back down on the couch, wrapping your blanket around you, and turning back to your comfort show. Out of your peripherals you can see a small smirk settle on Jamie’s face as he refocuses on Grey’s Anatomy as well. 

You’re proud that you pulled that off nonchalantly because inside you were feeling anything but. An uncomfortable feeling settles in your stomach as you come to the realization that that wasn’t just a casual kiss. You kissed Jamie because you wanted to, not just as a prelude to sex. All night he’d been attentive to your needs, genuinely interested in hearing what you had to say even when it was nonsensical ramblings about a show you liked, and just an overall sweetheart. The more you think about it, he was always like this when you two were together, even when he was teasing you. It didn’t help that he also looked especially good tonight. 

Holy shit, were you…falling for him? When you explicitly said you weren’t going to?  

Well this certainly won’t end well. 

A/N: this apartment scene and the car scene from part two are the first things i thought of and inspired this whole story :’) can’t wait to know what you guys think!

Taglist: @atabigail @boundtomyfate @sammysgirl1997 @lil-tracys @shephard17895 @alaspice @itsbarbraann @redpool @drmeghanjones @straightforwardly @alex-sulli @aiyaiy @artemismaximoff @roadtoself-love @theloud-yet-quietone @forcesofgrief @kirisimpster​ @geek-and-proud​ @grippleback-galaxy​ @lalla-04p​ @gabbycoady13​ @royalestrellas​ @qardasngan​ @creationcitystreet-em​ @percysaidnever​ @emily-b​ @mrfitzsimmons​ @k-n-e​ @agentstarkid @legobatmans9thab @mrsprongs25​ @escapismqueen​ @scaramou @beardsplitter @gcidrvsh @ringpopdust @marveltg365 it wouldn’t let me tag the last few of you, let me know if its something with your settings, otherwise i can keep trying in future updates! <3

[its-time-to-write]

I loveeee your taylor swift based jamie fics so i was wondering if u could maybe write one based on question..? You’re amazing at writing conflict between the reader and jamie but ofc ending with fluff and i feel like question is the oerfect outline for a fic like that. Thank you!

once again, I am slowly but surely finishing asks in my inbox! my hyperfixation has been awakened ever so slightly, as well as my need for new Jamie content. enjoy!

half-moon eyes

“What if I don’t go?” you suggest, sprawled out on Keeley’s couch.

“You have to,” Rebecca calls from the kitchen. “It’s non-negotiable.”

“I don’t even work for you,” you say, “so you literally cannot make me.”

Keeley grins devilishly next to you, feet propped up on the coffee table. “You don’t work for me either, and I can make you,” she says.

You groan. “C’mon, Keels, I’m not even on staff at Richmond. Why do I have to go to this benefit? It’s going to be a bunch of rich footballer twats.”

Rebecca places two glasses on the table and sits down. “You’re a rich twat. And you’re our friend. Besides, Keeley and I already bought your dress.”

“You what?” you yelp.

Keeley’s still grinning, except it’s all smug now. “Come on, babe, it’ll be fun. Free food, free booze. Hot men. Besides, it’s for a good cause. You love those.”

You drape an arm over your eyes and say, “Fine. I’ll go. But honestly, it’s just because Ted told me he’d help me get Roy on the dance floor.”

Rebecca and Keeley become a chorus of “oh, come on,” as they whack you with Keeley’s pink fluffy pillows.

—

Keeley and Rebecca are the absolute worst for picking out the dress they did, because it’s perfect.

It’s sleeveless with a halter neck, decorated with giant light blue sequins all the way to the floor, with a slit high enough to add some spice, but still low enough that you won’t feel the need to tug at it every five seconds.

And while you were correct about the rich footballers, you were a little bit incorrect about the “twat” part. Mostly.

You didn’t want to go to the benefit for the same reasons Keeley and Rebecca did want you to go.

Jamie fucking Tartt. 

He does no favors for your “good girl” reputation, and yet you’ve found yourself completely enamored with him. You swear to Keels and Bec that it’s just his muscles and his eyes and nothing more, but they got you to admit that you also liked his personality and that’s when you knew you were done.

The whole point of being in a three-person friend group is so that at any given time, two of you can meddle in the third one’s love life.

It’s supposed to always be you and Keeley versus Rebecca, or you and Rebecca versus Keeley.

Not Rebecca and Keeley versus you. 

They had successfully gotten you to spend time with Jamie during a team party, one where they snuck you in as Keeley’s emotional-support person then promptly ditched you to flirt with footballers/coaches of their own. 

You’d sat in a corner with a book stolen from a shelf, trying to make yourself invisible. Unfortunately for you, Jamie has sharp eyes and a tendency to gravitate toward introverts. 

But it doesn’t matter now. You’re in Rebecca’s car headed to that dumb benefit and gripping Keeley’s hand.

“Please don’t leave me this time,” you plead.

Keeley squeezes your hand twice. “Babe, it’s a bunch of people you know. And besides, how are you supposed to get in Jamie’s pants if you’re with me the whole night?”

Rebecca snorts out a laugh as you groan. 

“I’m not trying to get into Jamie’s pants,” you say. “I’m literally only here because you made me.”

“Sure,” Keeley says. “And I’m a virgin.”

The car dissolves into laughter along with your nerves, and you feel as ready as you ever will to face the night.

—

“Two please,” you say to the bartender. He turns around to prepare Keeley and Rebecca’s drinks and you sigh, forearms on the counter.

“Rough night?” asks a teasing voice. You turn to see Jamie slide into the space next to you looking fit in a cream suit. He tilts his head a little bit, causing one dangly earring to sparkle in the light.

“Surprised to see you without a book,” he continues. “But no worries, you could always ask Roy for one of his. He’s always got one on him and I think he’s stored one up his-”

“Here you go,” says the bartender.

“Thanks,” you reply, nodding once to Jamie in a way that signals he can leave, but instead of doing so he follows you.

“I can take those,” he says, reaching for the drinks and you automatically hand them to him.

“Thanks,” you say again.

He tilts his head to look at you. “You’re fucking quiet tonight.”

You laugh once, short and grating. “Yeah, well, this isn’t really my thing. I got suckered into it and manipulated into wearing this dress and normally I’m not this uncomfortable, but I don’t really know many people here.”

“You know me,” Jamie says softly, and then you’re at the table. 

Keeley looks up in surprise as Jamie hands her a drink but the surprise doesn’t last long before it’s replaced by devilish twinkle. 

“Oh, are you two going dancing?” she says.

“N-no,” you stutter, “he was just-”

“Dancing sounds so fun,” Rebecca interjects. “I might join you in a song or two.”

“But we’re not-” you try again.

Rebecca quirks an eyebrow at you. “Aren’t you?”

You turn to see Jamie with his hand out. “Come on,” he says. “It’ll be fun. Swear down.”

You reach for him before your mind can tell you not to, and let him pull you onto the dance floor.

You aren’t the only ones there, it’s actually pretty busy, but there’s only one set of hands on you.

You’re letting Jamie Tartt into your space in a way that no man before has been allowed. 

He’s crowding you a little bit, dancing close enough that you’re brushing up against each other and there isn’t really anywhere to go, but you’re fairly certain that the moment you indicated you needed space, he’d be gone. 

He’s so close that it’s overwhelming, with the music loud in your ears and the smell of his cologne.

Time seems to slow, music fades, and all that exists are you and Jamie. He reaches out to touch your face and you lean closer, almost at eye-level due to your heels.

He pauses for just a moment so you surge forward and kiss him, vaguely aware of Keeley and Rebecca wolf-whistling somewhere nearby. 

Sam looks over and starts clapping, and pretty soon all the Greyhounds within the vicinity are hollering and cheering. You blush and press your hands to your cheeks but Jamie just grins. It’s the cocky, “I got the girl,” grin.

So yeah, sue you if he ended up in your bed.

What were you going to do, act like you were immune to the way he looked at you? The way he talked to you like you were the most interesting person in the room? The way his lips peppered firm kisses up your neck and across your clavicle after you sneaked outside for some “fresh air?”

No, immunity was never an option. 

Half of you said it was just a one-night stand and the other half… well the other half told you to consider the facts. 

The facts were that you knew he was into you, like full-on romantically attracted because you’d seen his text thread with Keeley.

She hadn’t shown you exactly, just left her phone unlocked on her coffee table, angled toward you while she told you she was going to make tea and it was going to take a long time.

So maybe the way he threaded your hands together while he pressed his body to yours won’t be a one-off event. Maybe you’ll get another chance to hear your name from his lips like it’s the only word he knows.

Maybe.

Except you’re awake at 2am and he’s gone; no note, no text, no nothing. You know for a fact he’s not meeting Roy, so where exactly could he have gone?

You don’t know. You just know your bed is cold and empty and there’s a strange pit in your chest. Maybe Keeley was wrong, and he didn’t like you that much. Maybe he was just looking for one night of fun.

You’d be ok with that, if only you’d known ahead of time. If only you hadn’t gotten your hopes up.

—

It’s a good thing you don’t work at Nelson Road because it means you can avoid Rebecca, Keeley, Jamie, and Ted for some reason, because apparently Rebecca told him everything and he’s incredibly invested in getting Jamie a “good girlfriend.”

Instead, you go to work like normal and accept your coworkers’ invitation to go out.

Kevin got you all into some incredibly popular bar because his girlfriend’s a repo baby, and you can tell from the moment you walk in that it is not your vibe. You’re just grateful you asked what to wear ahead of time.

You go to the bar and say, “Two please,” and feel someone slide into the space next to you. You turn, half expecting it to be Jamie.

It’s not, but he is attractive, objectively speaking. You down your shots and smile as dazzling as possible.

If you’re going to be here, you might as well get the most out of your night. The man next to you smiles back so you take that as an invitation to move a little closer and start flirting.

He buys you a drink and you laugh at his stupid little jokes, reaching out just a little to touch his arm. 

Your coworkers are doing there own thing and you’re debating whether or not you actually want to fuck this guy when you feel someone watching you. 

You pause a moment to try to get the room into focus but before you can, someone is shouldering their way in between you and whatever this guy’s name is.

“Alright mate, time to go,” Jamie says, and the guy says, “Jesus, sorry, didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t,” you slur but he’s already gone.

Jamie turns to you and says, “I’m getting you home,”

Your skin is tingly and warm and there’s a pleasant haze in your mind, but not so pleasant that you forget the fact that you’re still a little mad.

“Kevin,” you mumble as Jamie slips an arm under your shoulder.

“Yeah yeah, told that rich prick that I was getting you home safe. Recognized him from your website.”

A less-drunk you would have latched onto the fact that Jamie had looked at your website long enough to recognize some of the people you worked with. As it is, all you can think about is sleep. Which reminds you

“Why’d you leave?” you ask as Jamie helps you into the passenger seat.

Jamie stills for a moment before continuing to buckle you in. He gets into the car and sits in silence for a moment.

“Dunno,” he finally says. “It- it was too real for a moment. We’re not the same at all. You’re fucking… good. I’m not, not really.”

“Bullshit,” you reply but you succumb to sleep before Jamie can ask you what you mean.

—

You’re in Jamie’s car again less than twenty-four hours later. Why you agreed to meet him, you’re not sure. But here you are in a deserted parking lot at 8pm, parked as far away from streetlights as possible. Your knees are pulled to your chest, and you’re grateful you opted to wear your favorite over-large hoodie. It gives you the illusion of security, like you can hide.

Jamie on the other hand is wearing a fucking brown Gucci track suit.

“Isaac gave it to me,” he says with a shrug, in response to your raised eyebrow.

That’s been the extent of your conversation for a solid minute, ever since you got out of your car and into his. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to talk first, but you’re not going to. He’s the one who invited you, he’s the one who can figure out what to say.

He does not disappoint.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have fucking left. Don’t really know what I were thinking.”

You snort out a laugh, but his worried face falls so abruptly that you immediately try to take it back. 

You say, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. It’s just that there’s no way you don’t know what you were thinking. You’re not stupid, you don’t just accidentally leave like that. And it’s not the leaving that’s the problem, it’s the fact that you didn’t tell me. Or talk to me after at all. So I’m just stuck in my own head trying to figure out what I did wrong.”

Jamie is shaking his head before you’re even halfway done. “You’re right, I do know what I was thinking. It’s like, you’re fucking brilliant, yeah? You do all this cool shit and make a difference and everyone fucking loves you. I went on a tv show to piss of me dad.”

He pauses, staring at the steering wheel. “If I woke up in the same bed as you, I’d start thinking we could be together. That I could have something- real, like. And that isn’t gonna fucking work.” He laughs, once, but it’s void of mirth.

You squint at him. “You could have at least tried.”

Jamie moves uncomfortably in his seat as he says, “That’s how I do shit, ain’t it? Fuck it up before it can fuck me up.”

You both relapse into silence, and you take stock of the way the nighttime glow sits on Jamie’s skin. 

His features are softened, much like they looked in your dim bedroom light except this time, his eyebrows are knotted together.

You reach out to smooth them with your thumb before you can stop yourself. 

Jamie sighs and leans into your touch and you find yourself cupping his face. 

“What if we tried?” you whisper. “I bet we could do it. I’m really stubborn.”

He smiles a little at that, all wistful. “I’d do anything for you,” he responds, “Just don’t worry ‘bout it when it’s time for you to leave, yeah?”

—

What is it that Roy says, that you deserve someone who makes you feel like you’ve been struck by lightning?

You feel more like it’s a meteor. 

It looks pretty as it shoots across the sky, almost like it’s a star, but then it lands on you and squishes you flat. There’s no electrifying current, just the inescapable, crushing weight of a giant rock that you thought you could wish on.

Two months. You made it two months with Jamie, and it felt like you were dancing on clouds right up to the moment you tripped.

It’s always something with him. Everything’s for PR, for an angle, for the game. Your relationship… it’s smothering.  

It’s not smothering in the way you like, because let’s be real; you would be attached at his hip if you could.

But he seems to think that he can buy his way into your heart, especially during the weeks he has extra training, or an away game, or anything that cuts into your time together. 

“It’s too much,” you say through tears one afternoon. “I don’t even know what to do with half of it. You’re spending so much money on me and I’m not ungrateful, but Jamie. I don’t want things. I don’t care that you’re busy, I want you and I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who thinks they can purchase my affection.

Jamie just looks at you, nods once, and walks away. No fight, no nothing. 

You’re struck by two conflicting memories at once.

The first being his outstretched hand at the benefit, ready to pull you out of your comfort zone. 

The second, his soft voice saying, “don’t worry ‘bout it when it’s time to leave.”

As you watch his retreating figure, you fight the urge to run after him. He’s the one with the self-sabotaging tendencies. You should have realized you were going to end up here sooner or later. 

If he doesn’t even think you’re worth fighting for, then what’s the point?

You text Keeley and Rebecca, then get to your bed as fast as you possibly can.

—

Two months is a lot longer than most people think it is. It’s over sixty days of waking up with someone. Of texting them. Of holding them, eating meals with them, of kissing them goodnight. 

It only takes two weeks for a habit to develop and now your bed feels far too large and empty. 

Keeley’s snoring in what should be Jamie’s spot, unceremoniously sprawled out in some awful satin zebra-print pajamas. It’s better than being alone, but you’d rather have Jamie snoring next to you in some awful satin leopard-print boxers.

—

“Do you believe in soulmates?” you ask Rebecca. You’re laying on her floor while she eats a biscuit.

She asks, “Platonic or romantic?” so you shoot her a questioning glance. “I’m not sure about romantic soulmates, but after seeing Ted and Beard, I abso-fucking-loutely believe in platonic soulmates,” she clarifies.

“Cool,” you say, “smashing, brill, fucking superb.”

“What makes you think Jamie was your soulmate?” she asks. That makes you sit up.

“I didn’t say shit about Jamie,” you say.

Rebecca rolls her eyes. “Darling, it was very heavily implied. And anyway, who else would you be talking about? The last time you had a boyfriend was back when this club was still complete shit. So. Why do you think Jamie was your soulmate?”

“I don’t,” you respond, “I just- I don’t know, we clicked. It was weird. You know we talked before the benefit? We were at this party and… he talked to me. I was hiding because Keeley fucking left me by myself so I stole a book and was reading in the corner, and he sat next to me and started asking me questions. And-” you stop yourself.

“And,” Rebecca prompts.

“And I wish he would have fought a little more. For as great as he said I was, he just walked away like it was nothing. It feels like shit.”

Rebecca stands up only to sit down on the floor next to you. She tells you, “Men are shit with feelings. They never know what they really want until they don’t have it.”

—

You don’t take precautions to sneak out of Rebecca’s office because everyone has left by the time you go, so you walk down the stairs arm in arm as you giggle about something stupid.

“Oh shit, I left my phone on my desk,” she says. “Wait here while I get it?”

You grin and lean against the wall, staring down a decal of Bumbercatch.

You can feel someone watching you and you assume it’s just Declan’s cutout until something moves in your peripheral vision. 

“Jesus Christ!” you exclaim. “Jamie?”

“I weren’t trying to scare you,” he says apologetically. “Didn’t know anyone was still here. I was doing a cool down on the treadmill and lost track of time.”

“…Cool,” you reply. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to say in situations like this.

Jamie passes his water bottle from one hand to the other as you shift your weight. Neither one of you are making an effort to say anything, or an effort to leave.

“For Christ’s sake,” comes Rebecca’s voice a few steps above you. “Can you two please just tell each other how you’re fucking feeling? My god Jamie, use your big boy words for fucking once.”

Jamie looks offended for a moment but apparently Rebecca’s words ring a little bit true because he switches from offended to wistful. Again.

“I can’t with that face,” you tell him. “You look like a kicked puppy, and it’s your fault at least eighty percent of the time.”

“I’m leaving,” Rebecca says. 

“Wait, but you drove me here,” you say to her back. 

She calls, “Cheers,” with no indication that she’s listening to you.

“I can take you home,” Jamie offers.

You tilt your head at him and say, “Yeah, and I can catch a taxi. Or walk. Or anything, really.”

“I’m driving you,” he says. “Just gotta grab my bag.”

“Oh now he fights,” you mutter.

Jamie stills for a moment before heading into the locker room. He’s back so fast you wonder if he was worried about you sneaking out without him.

You’re sitting in the passenger seat, reliving all the times you’ve been here before. You resist the urge to curl up.

It’s a quiet ride over to your house and you take advantage of the fact that Jamie is actively not looking at you. You allow yourself to examine his profile out of the corner of your eye. You miss touching his face, holding his hand. Does he feel the same? Most likely not.

He pulls into your driveway and as you reach for the handle he says, “Oi.”

You still.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really am.”

You explode. “For fucking what, Jamie? What the fuck do you think you’re sorry for? How many times are we going to do this? If one of us were going to have relationship insecurity, I would’ve assumed it’d be me. Hell, everyone thinks that I’m the insecure one. But it’s you! I don’t fucking get it, you ruin every good thing you have because you have stupid fucking thoughts and you don’t fight for what you fucking want, for fuck’s sake.”

“I want you,” he says.

“Coulda fooled me,” you shoot back.

“I do and I know I was being a twat. Went to fucking… therapy. I’m getting better, swear down.”

“Uh huh,” you say. “Bullshit.”

“That’s a fuck-ton of swear words for you,” he comments. “Been taking notes from Roy?” “Piss off,” you reply.

“That’s a yes.”

“Fine. Here’s a nice, clean sentence for you. What do you want?”

“I miss you,” he says without hesitation.

Right.

“And..?” you say.

“And I want you back.”

“Maybe,” you reply. “Possibly. I’ll put you on probation. Cook me dinner and then we’ll talk about it.”

Jamie turns off his car. “Does that mean I can come in?”

You sigh, but it’s with a smile on your face. “Against my better judgement yes, it does mean you can come in. But no funny business. At least not tonight.”

Jamie grins just a tiny bit and says, “Does cuddling count as funny business? I miss holding you?”

“We’ll see how good dinner is.” You open the car door and Jamie follows you close on your heels into your house. You think maybe this time, you’ll both get it right.

[plussizefantasia]

Trick-Or-Treat

Flufftober Day 31: Trick or Treat

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

AN: Here it is. The last one shot of October. Thank you to everyone who has left comments and reblogs you guys are awesome. I'll be taking a short break (like two weeks) and will be back soon with some more stories including a multi-chapter Steve Harrington x reader story and plans for the 100-follower celebration that we earned at the beginning of the month. As always, reblogs and feedback are really appreciated.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

Bucky Barnes didn’t think very much of himself. Which is a real shame, considering he’s one of the most amazing men you’ve ever met. You wouldn’t have moved in together if he was a bad guy like he thought he was. The two of you had moved into a two-story townhouse in Brooklyn three months ago. Bucky really wanted to get close to his roots, especially after everything that happened. Steve had moved into an apartment about a block from you guys but split most of his time between the Avenger’s initiative and being home. 

“Jamie, could you help me move the couch to the stoop please?’

‘Why are we taking our indoor furniture outdoors?” 

“So that we have something comfy to sit on while we hand out candy.” 

“We’re handing out candy? I thought we were just going to put it in a bowl and leave it outside the door.” Bucky was confused, and more than a little apprehensive. 

“Jamie. Love of my life, this is what people who have houses do. They sit out on their porches and hand out candy to children in mediocre costumes for two hours while trying not to freeze. It’s a rite of passage.”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re telling me that you didn’t do trick or treat in the olden days?” 

“First of all, don’t call them the olden days. Second of all, trick or treating wasn’t really a thing until I was too old to participate, and even then, people had more things to worry about than handing out candy.”

“Why don’t you want to hand out candy, Jamie?”

“Because… it will be cold.”

“You’re literally a human furnace try again.” You lifted one eyebrow at him, trying your best to capture the essence of Roger’s ‘eyebrows of disappointment’ that he had practically trademarked.

“Doll, I just don’t think it's a good idea.”

“Why not Jamie? I won’t make you hand out candy if you don’t want to but I have a feeling that whatever reason you have in your silly little noggin for not wanting to isn’t really a good one.”

“What if they hate me?” He mumbled.

“What if who hates you, baby?”

“The kids. What if the kids are scared of me.”

“James Buchanan Barnes. You are a hero, you fought to bring back literally half of the population of the entire universe, anyone who is scared of you is an idiot.”

“That’s sweet doll, but I don’t want to ruin anyone’s night.”

“The only person’s night who is a risk of being ruined is mine. I don’t know how I’ll survive without my human furnace to keep me warm out there.” You batted your eyelashes at him. “Please, Jamie? Just try, if you hate it you can go back inside but I think you’ll have a lot of fun.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” You didn’t try to fight the smile that spread from ear to ear.

‘Yeah, doll. I’ll hand out candy with you.”

Bucky wasn’t sure about any of this. But you had asked so prettily and his therapist (someone you had found for him, not one of the shitty government-appointed ones) had told him that he needed to start pushing his boundaries. He figured that spending the night next to you and watching you be happy was as good of a way to start pushing boundaries as any. He had pulled the couch out into the space that was right in front of your door. He had helped you climb over the back of it with a huge bowl of candy after you realized that the couch had practically trapped you inside. Now the two of you were waiting. The night didn’t officially start until 8:00 so you had about fifteen minutes to go. 

“Jamie?”

“Hmm?’

“I forgot my phone.”

“Okay?’ 

“Jamie?”

“Yes?” 

“Could you go get my phone?” He let out a deep sigh and one of those old man grunts as he pushed himself up off the couch and climbed over it. He walked further into the house and you took your chance. “Hey Jamie?”

“Yes, Doll?” 

“Since you’re inside… could you make me some hot chocolate?” 

“Doll, if you wanted hot chocolate you could’ve just asked in the first place you didn’t need to send me on a quest for your phone.”

“I did actually leave my phone on the counter so it’s not like I lied.”

As Bucky was making your hot chocolate, the beginning few kids started emerging from their houses, parents behind them bundled up to counteract the chilly October night.

You saw a few clowns, some kids show characters that you didn’t really know the name of, and some funny pun costumes that you laughed at. But what really caught your eye was the trio of boys four houses down from yours, making their way down the street.

They couldn’t have been older than eight but their costumes were impeccable. They really were mini versions of your three favorite guys. A mini Captain America complete with a homemade cardboard shield, a mini falcon with swim goggles and a plastic redwing, and last but certainly not least a mini winter soldier whose arm was wrapped in tinfoil. 

You had to resist the urge to actually scream, but you did let out a few overjoyed giggles.

“Jamie! James come quick!” You yelled into the house.

“You’re hot chocolate is almost done.” He yelled back.

“Who cares about the hot chocolate this is way more important!”

He started making his way towards the open door, “What is more important than hot choco-” He completely stopped. Frozen in his place looking at the three little boys making their way up your steps. “Holy Shit”

‘Language.” You replied.

Bucky practically launched himself over the back of the couch to meet the boys,

“Mom! Mom look! It’s Sergeant Barnes.” The boy with the tinfoil arm turned with a bright smile on his face. His mom was nearly as frozen as Bucky, most likely not expecting to run into a retired superhero on Halloween night.

With a smack from you, Bucky released himself from his stupor. “Hey little man, what’s your name?”

“George, but everyone calls me Georgie.” He said with the confidence of a kid who had rehearsed. 

“Well Georgie, that’s a very nice costume you’ve got there.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, Sir.”

“Call me Bucky, please.”

“Okay, Mr. Bucky, sir.” Both you and Bucky chuckled at that.

“I think a costume as good as that deserves some candy what do you think?” Bucky looked at you.

“Definitely, I think all three of these young heroes deserve their candy.”

You placed a handful into the Captain’s bucket, and the Falcon’s but let Bucky grab the candy for his mini-me. He grabbed two large handfuls and winked at the kid as he placed them inside his orange pumpkin bucket.

“Would you be okay with taking a picture?” Georgie’s mom asked.

“Absolutely!’ Bucky replied and pulled all three young boys in front of him. Kneeling behind them and giving a genuine smile.

Once pictures were done the parents got the boys to say goodbye and move on. 

“There are more houses to go to Georgie, besides, I’m sure Mr. Barnes would like to be able to give candy to some other kids.”

“Okay Mom,” Georgie turned back to Bucky, “Thank you, Mr. Bucky, sir. You’re my hero.” He turned back away and skipped down your stairs and onto the next one like he hadn’t just broken your boyfriend.

The rest of the night went pretty similarly, with the occasional Avenger costume and star-struck kid. Bucky posing for pictures and actually enjoying it and you handing out way more candy per child than their parents were okay with.

Bucky’s smile never faded and he seemed to get more and more into it as the night went on. 

“Hey Doll?” He asked when the two of you had finally returned your couch back to its rightful place.

“Yeah, Jamie.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You kissed him on the cheek. “You never did bring me my hot chocolate though.”

[goldengleams]

cuddle day | trevor zegras

In which Trevor wants to have a cuddle day.

Some Trevor Zegras fluff to get your week started!

————————————————————————

“Ugh, Trevor let go of me!”

“Why don’t you love me, Y/N?”

“Because you’re a pain in my ass, Z!”

You rolled your eyes at your overdramatic boyfriend, Trevor. He was seated next to you on one of the kitchen barstools, practically in your lap, watching you as you tried to do some work on your laptop. He knew you needed to get work done, but he was having a clingy day where he demanded your cuddles and slouched around in his comfy clothes.

“Z, I gotta do some work, babe,” you said softly. You didn’t get to see this side of Trevor much since he was so busy during the season, so you tried to spend as much time with him as possible.

“Yeah but you’re always working,” Trevor whined.

“Well, that is how I make money, so,” you laughed. “I have to send three more emails and then we can cuddle, okay?”

Trevor just sighed loudly instead of answering you. He trudged off to his bedroom and you could hear him grumbling under his breath about how you should just move into his apartment. Knowing that was a conversation for another day, you went back to typing on your computer.

Jamie made his way into the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge, having passed Trevor on his way.

“Your boyfriend looks like he needs a cuddle, Y/N,” Jamie teased. He was well aware of Trevor’s moods after living with him for months.

“No, Jamie. Your boyfriend is driving me nuts,” you countered. Jamie just let out a laugh before heading out to the gym.

Typing as fast as you could, you quickly finished up your work and closed your laptop with a relieved sigh. Now, you could finally go cuddle with Trevor.

You grabbed a few snacks from the cupboard and two waters for you and Trevor before heading into his bedroom. He was laying across the bed, scrolling through tik tok when you walked in.

“Oh my god, my girlfriend isn’t just an email machine,” Trevor mused, pushing himself up on his elbows. He had ditched his beanie and his hair was flowing effortlessly. He had his glasses on which made him look even more domestic, and you had to restrain yourself from jumping right at him.

“I wish I didn’t have to be an ‘email machine’, but it’s all for my internship,” you said, setting down all of the snacks and your drinks. “It’ll all be worth it, I think.”

“Yes it will, you’re like, the smartest person I know, babe,” Trevor said. He was the best at reassuring you, all of his compliments and advice rolling off his tongue so easily and honestly.

“Alright, now come cuddle me before I implode.” Trevor rolled onto his back and threw his arms open, waiting for you to climb in next to him.

You obliged, settling in next to him with your head on his chest. He wiggled closer to you, if that was even possible since you were practically on top of each other. His hair started to tickle your face, making you laugh softly.

“Missed you, Y/N,” Trevor sighed. You knew Trevor wanted to spend more time with you, but his schedule in the middle of the season wouldn’t allow it. Any quality time you could get together was spent glued to each other in some activity, whether it be going out or just hanging inside.

“Missed you, too, Z,” you said.

Trevor furrowed his eyebrows, tugging you closer to him. “Well, you should just move in and then you’re always here. Hey, even better, you should just get a job with the Ducks and then you can travel with us!”

You both burst into laughter. “You want me to be a Ducks groupie, Z?”

“I mean you could be a groupie for me and we could–”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Trevor!”

You climbed up onto his lap as he welcomed you easily. You tucked his hair behind his ear and kissed him sweetly. “You’re crazy,” you mused, as he left a kiss down your jawline.

“Yeah, I know,” Trevor said. “But I’m lucky I get to call you mine.”

For the rest of the afternoon, you stayed right in Trevor’s bed, cuddling and watching your comfort movies. Jamie found you a few hours later, both fast asleep, and smiled to himself at his two close friends.

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoy!!

[janesociety]

can you please do a james potter x reader where reader is always patching james up from quidditch injuries and comforting him in the hospital wing and stuff but roles are reversed when he's trying to teach you quidditch and reader gets a minor injury (sprained ankle or something). cue overprotective jamie & platonic marauders fluff<3

oh! darling

james potter x reader

type: fluff

word count: 2.4k

summary: after years of you taking care of james, it was finally his turn.

warnings: reader has sprained ankle, references to slightly worse injuries

notes: i am so incredibly sorry this took so long i don’t even have an excuse

masterlist

𝜗𝜚

You were never all that big a fan of flying. Being on a broom just never felt sturdy to you and you weren’t all that crazy about heights either. It wasn’t exactly that you were afraid per say, you just chose to avoid them when possible.

With a boyfriend like James Potter, you knew it would one day no longer be avoidable.

James, while on one hand being the most responsible, smart, and caring person you knew, was also the clumsiest.

You lost count on the number of times you’d had to walk him from the Quidditch Pitch to the infirmary for an injury. Sometimes he sustained them at a practice, a game- hell, sometimes he would just be flying around for fun and manage to throw himself from his broom. It became such a common occurrence, you now had your own little pharmacy under the sink in your dorm so you could fix some of his minor injuries up there. Then of course there were his more major injuries- like the time he broke his foot when it was smashed between the stadium wall and a bludger or when he got a concussion when he and Sirius slammed into each other when messing around. During those times, you’d sit with him in the hospital wing and keep him company. You were always sure to spend your free periods with him, catch him up on school work, bring him food- anything he needed.

To be honest, as much as you hated him getting hurt, you treasured some of those moments in the hospital wing when it was just the two of you being together.

When you woke up on that Saturday morning to James no longer next to you in his bed, you were confused. You’d both agreed the day before that neither of you wanted to go to Hogsmeade that weekend and you knew James didn’t have any Quidditch practice. You rolled out of his bed, finding one of his sweaters in his trunk and throwing it on. You made your way to the mostly empty common room- most people were already at breakfast so they could eat before leaving for Hogsmeade- and found Lily buried in her books at a corner table.

“Hey, Lils,” you said, sliding into a seat across from her.

“Hey,” she said, her eyes not looking up from the page of the herbology textbook she was reading. You leaned awkwardly back in your seat, not exactly wanting to disturb her, but not knowing what to do with yourself when you didn’t know where any of your other friends were and you were feeling just a bit too lazy to look.

“Sorry,” she said, finally looking up at you and sitting back. “I haven’t had time to study recently- I’m hoping to catch up today while everyone’s at Hogsmeade.”

“No- no, you’re fine, I can leave if you want,” you said quickly. “Have you seen James?”

“Him and Sirius walked out of here an hour ago looking for Marlene and Dorcas and I haven’t seen them sense,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They seemed overly excited, per usual. I think they were up to something.”

“God, maybe I don’t want to look for him anymore,” you said, laughing through a yawn.

Your wish was granted- not exactly in the way you wanted- as the porthole swung open as James and Sirius marched in with their hands full. It took you a minute to see what they were holding- Sirius was holding a large box that you quickly recognized as a chest that held all the different Quidditch balls and James was holding three brooms. Three.

“Oh, darling, you’re up,” he said, gently setting down the brooms next to you and kissing your head. “We were gonna come up and get you.” He wrapped his arms around your neck from behind you and rested his head on your shoulder. You made weary eye contact with Lily at the sight of the brooms. You hummed.

“What’re the brooms for?” you asked, recognizing only one of them as his. He chuckled in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“Quidditch, darling, what else?” he said, pecking your cheek after. He was always affectionate, but you could tell he was getting ready to question you about something.

“Oh,” you said, turning your head to see Sirius running up the stairs to the dorm.

“Me and Pads were thinking-“ well that’s never good- “that maybe you would come out to the pitch with us today and fly around a bit?” Your eyes went wide.

“James, I- you know I hate flying,” you said, turning to look at him. He loosened his arms to allow you to move.

“I know! I know, but I was thinking if me and Pads were there to help you out, you might feel better,” he said, massaging your shoulder. “I thought it could be fun.” You looked to Lily for help but she gave you a good luck look and quickly buried herself back into her books. “Please, love?”

“Fine.”

“Come on, darling!” James yelled from above you. “You’re gonna do great!” You resisted the urge to flip him off at his well-meaning encouragement.

You’d flown before, of course- it was a class after all. So you knew what you were doing, you just didn’t want to be doing it.

“Oh, the things I do for you,” you muttered under your breath as you began levitating off the ground. It took you a moment to get used to the sensation before you floated up to the level James and Sirius were at. Your hands were gripping the broom so hard your knuckles were white. It was less of you being scared of the broom and more not trusting yourself to be able to adequately operate it.

“You’re doing great,” James said, flying up next to you with a quaffle tucked under his arm. He reached out his free hand to take yours but you shook your head.

“I’m sorry, but no,” you said, cracking a smile and staring at his hand. He chuckled, reaching over and patting your shoulder- the act making you squeak at the feeling of being slightly unbalanced.

“Sorry!” he said quickly, laughing at how the blood had rushed to your face. “You’re alright, darling, you’re not gonna fall.” You let out a huff. “I won’t let you fall, how about that?” You smiled at him. “Alright, c’mon.” He motioned for you to follow him and you did, heading over to where Sirius was flying in circles.

“Finally!” he groaned, stopping as you two approached. “I don’t know why you’re so worried, Y/N. You were good at it in first year when we had to take the class.”

“I never liked it,” you said, pointing and flexing your feet to get used to the feeling of them not touching the ground. “But I can do it.”

“Okay, okay, finally ready to play?” Sirius asked, motioning for James to throw him the quaffle.

They explained the game. It was basically modified Quidditch so that it could be played with one ball and three people. It was decided that you would be goalkeeper first- which you were grateful for. The rules were James and Sirius were both trying to score on you, but when they intercepted the ball, they had to go back to the center. James used a charm to create foggy lines of smoke in the air where the centerline was because “Sirius is a big cheater so we need to be able to see.”

It was fun, actually. You surprised yourself with how quickly you picked up the skills you’d thought you’d forgotten. You were able to hold your own in the goal, blocking almost all their shots- even after they stopped going easy on you.

“You’re letting him win!” Sirius groaned after James scored for the third time. “This isn’t fair! You’re biased.” You rolled your eyes.

“You should know me well enough to know I’d help James lose before I’d help him win,” you said.

“Hey! I can hear you!” James yelled from farther back, tossing the ball to Sirius.

“Yeah, yeah, just get going,” you said, flying lazily around one of the goal posts. You were still moving pretty slow, the fear of falling still not totally dissipating, but you could keep up with them so far.

The games soon started again, Sirius being extra as ever and doing small spins around the stadium as James tried to chase him around. When Sirius took a shot, James raced in before you could catch it and dashed back to the centerline.

“Show off,” you muttered sarcastically as he whipped past you and sent you a goofy grin. You couldn’t help but smile at him.

You got somewhat bored when their back and forth went on just a little too long, and found yourself staring mindlessly around you. The wind was whipping your hair around your head and you were somewhat dreading what it would look like when you-

“Y/N!”

You didn’t have time to react before something hard collided with your head. You were exactly sure what was happening, but you felt everything spin and the wind picked up. You couldn’t figure out if you were dizzy or falling. When you felt your broom slip out from under you, you decided it was probably both. The simple realization you were falling from so high was enough to make your stomach start doing somersaults faster than the rest of your body was.

James immediately went into a nose dive the second he saw you slip. He was already dashing over to you before you fell- seeing the path of the ball that had left his hands seconds before. Sirius was behind him, shouting an incantation you couldn’t hear between the blood rushing to your ears and the air passing you. You slowed suddenly, the spell Sirius had cast finally taking effect, but not soon enough.

You crumpled to the ground, letting out a gasp.

“Y/N!” James yelled, stumbling off his broom and rushing towards you. “Y/N, hey, hey,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your face was pinched with pain as you gripped your ankle.

“I’m- I’m alright,” you said, shakily, your eyes still closed. You tried to move but let out a pained gasp when you moved your leg.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said, cupping your face. You opened your eyes to see the fear and worry contorting his face as he looked at you. Seeing him fuss over you almost felt worse than your foot. “Don’t move,” he said, carefully tucking his arms under you and pulling you up so he could carry you. You tried not to grimace as your ankle flopped around from the jerkiness of the lift.

“I’m fine, James,” you said, the grip you had on his shoulder betraying your words.

“Just hold still, yeah?” he said, his worry for you evident on the crease between his brows. “I’ll get you up to the infirmary.”

Sirius was quick to run after the two of you, holding all three brooms under his arm.

“Alright, Y/N?” he asked as he walked in step with James.

“Yep,” you said, grimacing as James bounced you around a little too hard.

“Sorry- sorry,” he said, doing his best to hold you as still as possible as he started walking up the hill towards the castle. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, James, it’s not your fault,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.

There was silence

“So, you reckon I’ll get an offer from Puddlemore next year?”

Sirius snorted.

“Oh, definitely, but they’ll be fighting offers from the Cannons and Harpies, too,” Sirius said. “But Puddlemore will give you the best offer, so you should play for them.”

“Maybe I'll just go wherever James gets an offer for,” you said as you all stepped inside the castle.

“Poor lad won’t get nearly as many as you,” Sirius said, shaking his head.

James chuckled hesitantly as you arrived at the infirmary, clearly trying to avoid the guilt gnawing at his stomach.

Madam Pomfrey was quick to usher you to a bed with a quick “Why is it always you lot?” and a wave of her wand.

James sat you down and was quick to grab your hand as you adjusted yourself on the bed. He sat on the edge of the hard wooden chair next to your bed. His hands cupped yours as his eyes glared daggers into your ankle.

“I should… I'll go put the brooms away,” Sirius said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. You nodded and he was out of there in the next moment.

“Jamie,” you said. He wasn’t looking at you. “James,” you said again, squeezing his hand. His eyes finally met yours, and you couldn’t find the words to describe the look of hurt on his face. “I’m alright.”

“I know,” he said shakily, a breathy chuckle coming from his mouth. “I know.”

“And it’s not your fault,” you said. He looks away from you again.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, the pain clear on his face even as he faced away from you. If there’s one thing that hurts James Potter more than seeing his loved ones in pain, it’s being the one that caused the pain.

“If I accept your apology will you stop moping?”

James laughed, his head ducking down and eyes crinkling at the sides. He brought your hand up to his lips, resting them on your knuckles before peppering kisses all over your hand.

“I truly don’t deserve you,” he said, smiling softly at you.

“Don’t go all soft on me now just because I’m injured,” you groaned as he moved to peck your cheek a few times.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Paint The Town Blue

Chapter Five of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: drinking

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: I love how every Ted Lasso fic series has a gala chapter, we’re so cute like that

The rest of the week passes in a blur of glittering gowns and sweaty training sessions, face masks and bruises. It was surprisingly easy to find a dress for the gala, and you settle on something simple enough so you can hopefully wear it again after looking at the price tag. Training is rough, and you leave every day wondering how you’re able to walk, but your mood had improved considerably after Monday’s episode.

By the time Thursday morning rolls around, you’re nothing more than a bundle of nerves, terrified for the match and the gala and what everyone is going to think of you. You’d always assumed that people’s opinions of you wouldn’t affect you as much as what you think about yourself, but now that seemingly everyone has something negative to say, it’s starting to wear you down. It’s like there are two different forces propelling you forward: one that wants to win and one that needs to prove everyone wrong.

You know your teammates feel the same way.

The dressing room is thrumming with energy and tension about to snap, all of you primed and ready for the match ahead. Your nervous energy has peaked and dissipated after spending time in the dressing room, laughing and smiling with your teammates while you prepare, securing your hair back and waiting for one of the coaches to give the pre-match pep talk even though you’re paying more attention to readying yourself mentally than anything that comes out of their mouths, and you leave the dressing room feeling ready for whatever happens on the pitch.

When you return to the dressing room ninety minutes later, it’s to the jubilant singing of your teammates. It’d been a harsh fight, but you managed to score in the seventieth minute to secure a 1-0 win, pushing you higher in the standings.

“Oi!” Roy breaks through the revelry, “Don’t get too shit-faced tonight, you still have training tomorrow.”

“And free drinks tomorrow night!” Keeley adds as she enters the dressing room, causing another wave of fanfare to erupt, more for the woman herself than her statement.

“So maybe we push off the celebration?” Elena offers, and even though she’s met with a chorus of booing, you all eventually agree that tonight will be for resting and tomorrow can be for celebrating while bringing attention to whatever charity is at the center of the gala.

As much as you want to bask in the glow of the win, you change out of your kit as fast as possible, already dreaming about the warm shower waiting for you at home. Maybe you’ll treat yourself to some takeout instead of whatever leftover meal prep is sitting in your fridge. You say your goodbyes to the girls, congratulating Naomi, your goalkeeper, on all her amazing saves as you leave the dressing room to wait for Mackie in the hallway, where it’s cooler and less crowded and you can breathe deeply for the first time in ninety minutes.

Checking your phone, you see a text from Jamie and are a little embarrassed at how quickly you open it.

Congrats on the win!! You played great today, might have to ask you for some pointers

You hate the way you smile down at your phone as you type a response, reminding yourself that Jamie is your friend and a new one at that.

Thanks! Are you sure you could even handle any more training?

The three little dots appear as Mackie leaves the dressing room, so you close your phone and slip it into your pocket as quickly as possible. Knowing Mackie, she would make everything into a big deal, and you didn’t want to ruin one of your first friendships in Richmond outside of the team just because Mackie loves jumping to conclusions.

Driving home with Mackie is always the perfect way to end your evenings, she always knows if you want quiet or talking or hype music or relaxing music, and even when you don’t talk it’s wonderful to know you have someone next to you. Today, she’s a chatterbox, going on and on about all the calls she thought should have been fouls or yellow cards.

By the time she’s dropping you off, you’re laughing so hard there are tears pouring out of your eyes and you never want to spend a moment apart from her ever again.

“Alright, get out, I wanna go to bed,” Mackie says through the remnants of her laughter, pushing at your shoulder until you leave the car.

Your evening plans are very similar to Mackie’s, and you order takeout before you take a long, hot shower to relax your muscles that had gone into overdrive before you slip into your bed and turn on mind numbing television while you scroll through your phone. You text back and forth with Jamie for a while, confirming that he’s coming to the charity event Keeley has planned for Friday and he tells you that he’s pretty sure Keeley stuck you at the same table as him.

It’s terrifying how nervous that makes you feel, nervous like you’re about to hit the peak of a roller coaster or walk down the aisle in a white gown.

When you wake in the morning, it’s after a solid eight hours of sleep where you were plagued by the strangest dreams of weddings and fancy dresses and cars driven by Jamie Tartt. As odd as your dreams were, it was the best sleep you’d gotten since you arrived in Richmond and you’re finally starting to feel less keyed up.

Training is easy as well, and most of your day is spent reviewing game footage and reevaluating certain tactics and laughing so much you’re a little bit worried you’re going to pee yourself. As serious as you all can be, as anxious as everyone is on match day, it’s hard to feel anything but joy when you’re surrounded by your team and you’re riding high on the win from yesterday and the promise of free booze later.

As everyone’s packing up and showing pictures of dresses and shoes and hairstyles, Keeley pops in, clearly looking frazzled.

“Remember to be on our best behavior, yeah? At least until all the old people get tired and go home,” she smiles then, and you just wish you could tell her that tonight will be perfect and have her believe you.

Your training ended at the same time as the men’s team, giving everyone ample time to get ready for the gala, and you pretend to ignore the way Mackie stares at you when you wave goodbye to Jamie. She drops you off, promising to pick you up at seven and you know she’s refraining from making a joke about you finding a “better date” with a certain striker and you’re grateful for her self control.

When you finally make your way inside, all the stress and pressure from the week, from the month, come crashing down around you but you do your best to work through it, knowing you have a weekend full of absolutely nothing to look forward to. You take your time getting ready, luxuriating in the shower and spending longer than you ever have on your hair and makeup, the threat of a red carpet and paparazzi making bile rise in your throat.

Still, you manage to finish getting ready before Mackie arrives, giving you plenty of time to marinate in your own self doubt and anxiety. Never in your life have you needed to attend an event like this, let alone an event when most of the attention will be on you and your teammates. All you hope is that everything goes smoothly, for your sake and for Keeley’s. You know it’s eating at her how poorly received the women’s team has been, and you know she needs a win from the press.

Hopefully tonight goes well and she raises lots of money for charity before getting absolutely shitfaced with the Greyhounds.

As expected, Mackie arrives right on time, looking absolutely stunning in the suit you’d picked out together on Tuesday. She gives a wolf whistle as you lock your front door and make your way to the car, pausing to give her a little spin so she could see the dress, and you, in all its glory. You’ve never been one for fancy dresses, but Mackie’s reaction makes you think you should dress up more.

The drive to the venue only serves to give your anxiety time to grow, despite the gentle way Mackie tries to distract you with her talks of nonsense. Throughout your years of friendship, she’s always done her best to support you through events and nights like these, even though standing in the spotlight has always come naturally to her. By the time you slip out of the car and spot the photographers and the carpet and the rest of your teammates, you’re on the verge of throwing up and considering making a run for it when Mackie grabs you gently by the arm and steers you towards the carpet.

Finding your team waiting to get their pictures taken, you’re met with excited shouts and whistles and expletives as you and Mackie approach, as if they’re not also dressed to the nines and looking more beautiful than anyone you’ve ever seen. There are a few of the men’s players hanging around and chatting with your teammates, but they usher you forward onto the carpet, letting your team bask in the spotlight for once.

Mackie, as if sensing the anxiety radiating off of you in waves, grabs your hand and pulls you forward, stopping and posing with you until you make it safely to the other side of the carpet. Already overwhelmed, you simply squeeze her hand in silent thanks before dropping it as you make your way inside, dazzled by Keeley’s hard work and dedication.

The entire space is transformed, and what was before an empty, boring ballroom is covered in silver twinkling stars and ambient lighting and a sea of tables complete with numbers and place cards. Keeley truly never ceases to amaze you, and the fact that she could pull all of this off while working at her own PR company and helping to run the Greyhounds’ social media is mind boggling to you. As much as you want to tell her how great of a job she’s done, you can see her bouncing around from table to table and you can’t even imagine the stress she’s under, so you promise yourself you’ll tell her later.

When you finally find your table in the sea of others, Jamie, Colin, and Isaac are already sitting down, and the way Jamie smiles when he notices you makes you feel a little bit dizzy.

“Well, now it’s a party!” Colin says when he glances up and sees Mackie after noticing the spaced-out look that had appeared on Jamie’s face, and he stands to get everyone a drink. Your seat, apparently, is right next to Jamie, and you have to wonder if Keeley had planned it that way or if someone might have meddled.

By the forced look of nonchalance on Isaac’s face, you’re guessing it’s the second one.

“You look really nice,” Jamie says as he scrambles to pull your chair out, and you shamelessly let your eyes rove up and down his body, taking in the way his dark trousers hug his thighs and the exposed skin of his chest underneath his mostly unbuttoned shirt. Friends are allowed to admire how their friends look, you tell yourself, forcing the word ‘friend’ into your brain over and over again.

“So do you,” you tell him truthfully as you take a seat, and your heart flutters a little as his cheeks redden slightly.

The chatter throughout the room and the music playing softly creates a gentle hum in the background, but you’re not paying attention to anything except your table. Colin’s boyfriend, Micheal, was giving you all an earful about all the pains of dating a footballer, and between the way he’s cracking jokes and the drink you’d all but pounded to calm your nerves, you’re laughing harder than you have in ages. Lucky for you, your entire table seems to be in a similar position and the tables around you are so wrapped up in their own conversations that no one notices your rambunctious group.

After the food is served, though, you all manage to calm down to respectable levels, preparing yourselves for the long, drawn out auction that’s to come. Keeley is still fluttering around, and she stops by your table shortly after the entrees. She’s grinning, but you can tell she’s more than anxious from the way she keeps asking if everyone’s having a good time.

“Everything’s great, it’s beautiful in here,” you tell her, casting a glance around the room to look at the decor again.

“You guys look beautiful!” She counters, a genuine smile taking over her face and you just hope that the charity portion of the event is over soon so she can enjoy herself.

“Go eat!” You shoo her away, and you see Rebecca send you a wink out of the corner of her eye when she comes to steer Keeley back to her table.

Almost as soon as the plates are cleared away, Rebecca is thanking everyone for coming and thanking Keeley for planning such a beautiful night before beginning to auction off signed kits and match balls and VIP tickets for the rest of the season. You’re not sure if everyone’s been making good use out of the open bar or if the event is always this successful, but those items go for more money than you would have ever imagined.

While a few other guests continue to chat and sit by the bar to savor one last free drink, much of the remaining crowd works at Nelson Road in some capacity, and by the way Keeley glances around the room from her spot by the door, thanking everyone for coming as they leave, she’s clearly waiting for something.

Once it looks like the last guest has left, leaving behind the Greyhounds, Keeley takes to the stage, finally looking relaxed and bouncy and ready to party.

“Thank you guys for your good behavior,” she says to the crowd, and you all cheer back at her, “now let’s fucking party!”

If everyone had cheered for the first part of her sentence, then everyone was going crazy now, yelling so loud your ears hurt a little. The tables were all pushed away and some apparently famous DJ took the stage, and then it was time for a night of drinks and dancing with your friends, the perfect way to celebrate your win from yesterday and Keeley’s successful charity event.

Despite never being one for the club scene, the drinks and the company were making you feel like you could conquer anything, so you join the mass of swaying bodies, finding space to dance near Mackie and Amelia. You can’t remember ever feeling this loose, this carefree, so you intend to savor it.

After a few songs, though, your feet start killing you and you navigate your way out of the crowd to find a seat at the bar. Luckily for you, Jamie was sitting at the bar, watching the crowd with a beer bottle in his hand, and you know you light up when you see him. With all the drinks coursing through your body, you forget to be nervous around him, forget to remind yourself that he’s just a friend.

Plopping down next to him and unbuckling the tiny straps on your shoes, you sigh in relief once you can feel your toes again, giving yourself a little break before going back out to dance.

“Want a drink?” Jamie asks with a little nod back to the bar, an amused smile on his face as he watches you staring at your feet, willing them to feel better.

“Sure!” You chirp, talking louder than you normally would to be heard over the music. Jamie, ever the observer, remembers your drink of choice from early in the evening and slides one to you from across the bar.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” You ask him after taking a healthy swig from your drink.

“Don’t wanna,” he shrugs, looking from the crowd to you to the bottle in his hand, “someone here should be responsible, yeah?” Instead of a response, you just clink your glasses together with a smile.

Soon, you’re so wrapped up in Jamie that your mission to get back on the dance floor is completely forgotten. The two of you make your way outside, to hear each other better, and your heart ticks up when Jamie carries your shoes out for you, making no comment on you being barefoot in London.

He takes a seat on the steps and you follow suit, sitting closer than you normally would. You talk for what must be hours, trading stories from training and old clubs and your childhood determination to make it to the top, and much too soon for your liking, Elena is coming outside with Mackie on her arm.

“I promised I’d bring these two home,” she says, Mackie immediately pouting at the older woman.

“I guess it’s time for me to leave,” you sigh, gathering your shoes and standing as Elena attempts to get Mackie down the stairs, “thanks for talking with me.” You lean back down to plant a kiss on his cheek without a second thought.

You turn to leave, and you don’t notice the way Jamie tenderly touches the faint lipstick mark left behind on his cheek.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @buckychristwrites @benedictscanvas @whimsical-roasting @sokkigarden @guccilongboard @onceuponaoneshot @presidential-facts @yepyeahuhhuh @loveslide @allthefandomtherapy @gibby31 @buddyjuststop @ellietartt @cancvr @brianandthemays @sonyume @aiyaiy @captainfrisbee @dalebo3 @theloud-yet-quietone @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @rockchickrebel @legobatmans9thab @curlypeter @lostinwonderland314 @yokolesbianism @jamietarttdodo @fan-goddess @innocentbi-stander @skewedcherries

[justforfunfic]

How they spend Valentine's Day

A/N: I’m a little late for Valentine’s Day but I thought this would be a fun prompt for some of my favorite GoT characters. Some of the characterization might be a bit off just for my preference but I hope y'all still enjoy :)

Jamie: Jamie is not a huge fan of  Valentine’s Day, but he sure knows what to do for it. Expensive roses, fancy chocolates, reservations at a three Michelin star restaurant, you have everything you could ever want on Valentine’s Day with Jamie. It was all for you, to show his love and devotion to you, but there was another reason he did it, not that he would ever tell you. He loved one-upping everyone else. The other men dining at the same restaurant with their girlfriends and wives were obviously able to get reservations, but were they able to get a matching set of gold earrings and a necklace for their love? He didn’t think so. What was more is that he knew that none of your exes had ever done anything like this for you on Valentine’s Day, or would’ve even if they had the money. Those thoughts, along with your smile and visible delight, went straight to his head. He was on a power trip and couldn’t wait to take you home. That’s where the real delight would be. 

Sandor: Sandor doesn’t really care for Valentine’s Day, but to do nothing would be a disservice to you. He’s never had someone to share Valentine’s Day with, so he’s accustomed to sitting at home and drinking by himself. He rarely went out because he didn’t want to see others coupled up around him, suffering dozens of love declarations, a handful of proposals, and twice as many stares. But being with you changed that. One your first Valentines together, Sandor asked you what you wanted and where you wanted to eat that night, and the both of you settled at a local Italian restaurant. Sandor brought a small bouquet of flowers, but nothing grand. The wine was nice and the night even better. The next Valentine's Day you spent together was better though. Sandor had still brought you flowers, but this time insisted on cooking for you. He made steaks, searing them to perfection, as soft music played in the background. The two of you laughed in the kitchen while he cooked and you chopped a salad, despite Sandor’s protests that he wanted to make everything. The two of you ate in the dining room, an unlit candle between you.

Tormund: To Tormund, Valentine’s Day is just another excuse to have sex. While other couples spent the day re-declaring their love and showering their partners in affection for the first time in a while, it was just another day with Tormund for you. He was constantly telling you how much he cared for you and regularly took you out and gave you gifts throughout the year, so Valentine’s day was like any other weekday but with roses. However, that’s not to say you wouldn’t celebrate. The two of you would go out for a nice dinner, something hearty with a baked potato for a side. In the car, chocolates would be waiting for you. Little did Tormund know, you also had chocolates for him, or rather chocolate syrup and a can of whipped cream. You told him about your little surprise in the car, smiling shyly and waiting for him to get the hint. Whether he feigned confusion or really didn’t understand, you don’t know, but you leaned over in your seat and whispered what the syrup was for and where it would go, eyeing his chest. It clicked for him instantly and you spent the rest of the concerningly short drive begging Tormund to obey traffic laws.

Jon: Valentine’s Day with Jon is special, but not in the way your friend’s think. While your friends are spending the evenings with their partners at a fancy dinner, the movies, or in the bed, you and Jon are makin moves. Your Valentine's Day plans are centered around your shared interests and goals. The two of you had been planning a big hike on a difficult but beautiful trail through the mountains together. It would be challenging, but facing a challenge with Jon was one you didn’t really mind. At the same time, the two of you had been wanting to learn how to throw pottery. Ok, you really wanted to and Jon was slowly roped into the idea, but now he was just as excited as you. He pictured hosting a small party of your friends, showing off the vases and bowls that you made together. The two of you probably wouldn’t decide which activity to do until the night before, but it wouldn’t matter which one you picked because either way it would be something you both enjoyed.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Tour de Richmond

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: Jamie gives you a tour of Richmond as well as gets to know you better. When you tell your cousin of his teammate's generosity, he suddenly becomes a bit hostile towards Jamie.

Meet Cousin McAdoo | Caffeine Crash

A/N: i looked up the bare minimum of the Richmond area. if anything is wrong, please let me know!

"So you've been around here, yeah?" Jamie asks, gesturing to the small shops that neighbors the cafe you were just at.

"A bit. Haven't really gone in any of these shops. But they're cute!"

"We can pop in a few if you'd like?" he suggests, pointing to a bookshop to your left.

"Another time."

Jamie shrugs, "Suit yourself."

He guides you away from the shops and towards, "The Richmond Green. The general gathering spot for people here. Kids like to play football here. There's sometimes cricket tournies here too."

You smile at the gathering of people scattered around the green acres. You see a small group of people doing yoga, three teens kicking a football around, people walking their dogs around. It's a very comforting atmosphere.

Jamie does his best not to be obvious about looking at you. He finds himself smiling to himself because you seem to find joy in the sights before you. He then turns to the view and realizes that he's never really enjoyed watching everything and everyone. He's always ran past them all during trainings and whatnot.

"Sorry, is it okay if we sit down and people watch for a little?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," he follows you to a bench where you both sit down.

You sit your drink and stare, "It's nice to just sit here and watch everything. I find it very calming. I don't get to do it much back home, though, always too busy with work and life."

"I don't think I've ever done this. I felt like I need to be on the go, ya know? Spend my time trying to get better, improvin' and all that."

You turn your attention to him, "You've never given yourself a break? What do you do during the off season? Don't you go on vacation?"

He shrugs, "I'm busy practicin'. I'll visit me mum and Simon sometimes, but they're doing their own travelin' a lot of the time," he nudges you with his shoulder, "What about you? Have you done any travelin'?"

"When my aunt married Isaac's uncle, that was the first time I travelled. They had a destination wedding in France. Wanted to be in the city of love and romance. That's where I met Isaac. We became really close through that trip. He's like my big brother. Always looking out for me." you take another sip of your drink and stand to your feet, "Okay. I'm ready to continue."

Jamie follows as you two continue to walk around the green. He points over in one direction, "Right there is the Richmond Palace. The Tudors lived there and some shit. Over there is the Richmond Theater. They do plays and stuff there."

You snort at Jamie's explanations, "Some tour guide you are! You're not going to give me a brief history on the town or these historic landmarks?" you give him a playful smirk.

He chuckles, "I'm sorry I didn't do me homework before offerin' you a tour. Here," he pulls out his phone, quickly typing something and clearing his throat, "Richmond was founded following King Henry VII's building in the 16th century of Richmond Palace.  The town and palace became particularly associated with Queen Elizabeth I , who spent her last days there," he lowers his phone down, smirking at you, "Better?"

You giggle, "You're funny. Are all of Isaac's teammates like you?"

"Nah. I'm the best outta all of them. I'm the funniest, best lookin'-"

"Most humble," you add with jest.

Jamie's smiling at you. He enjoys your company. He feels at ease around you and he's only spent maybe an hour in your presence. He likes this little back and forth you and he seem to be doing. It's nice. It's fun. Maybe-

A ringing comes from your bag and you swiftly pull your phone out, answering, "Good morning, sleepy head...I woke up early and thought I'd grab a coffee," you roll your eyes, "Don't be dramatic, Isaac, I'm an adult. I can handle myself...I'm not alone. Jamie." you sigh, "Yes, Jamie Tartt. Hold on," you pull the phone away from you and hold it out to Jamie, "He wants confirmation I'm really with you?"

Jamie takes the phone and presses it to his ear, "Yeah, what's good, man?"

"You better keep her safe, bruv. If anything happens to her-"

"Oi! Chill man! We're just walking around the fuckin' park."

"I'm serious, Jamie."

"We'll be fine. She's a grown adult, man. Let her be," he hands the phone back to you.

"If you're going to be like this my entire visit, I'm getting a hotel, Isaac...yes, I'm serious! ...again, I can handle myself. I'll see you soon. Bye!" you immediately end the call and take a long sip from your coffee.

"I get he loves you and all, but Jesus. I can practically see that vein in his head ready to pop out."

You burst out laughing, "I know exactly what you're talking about! Also the way he frowns when he's all serious. Like," you do your best impression of Isaac frowning and Jamie laughs, "That's pretty good."

"Thanks," you reply with a smile, "I'm sorry about Isaac, by the way. Like I said, he's like my big brother and he sometimes takes the role too seriously. But he means well."

"I know. He's a good guy."

Another hour goes by of you and Jamie chatting, him occasionally pointing out some other Richmond landmarks. It was a very pleasant morning spent. He walked you all the way back to Isaac's.

"Thank you, Jamie. This morning was fun."

"I'm glad. Sorry again for crashin' into ya like that."

You shrug, "It's okay. It led to a fun little adventure with you."

Jamie slowly backs away from you, "See ya around."

"See ya!" you wave as he's lightly jogging down the street. You continue to watch him as he fades from view. There's a little fluttering in your chest and you feel a bit giddy.

You open the door to Isaac's and you yelp in surprise as he's standing there, arms over his chest, looking very stern.

"Uh, hi?"

"Did Jamie try anything?"

"What? No! He just gave me a tour of the town!"

"So he didn't try to kiss you or nothin'?"

You roll your eyes, "Nothing happened, Isaac. And if something did, it's none of your business! Besides, I thought you said Jamie is a better person now."

"Doesn't mean he can date you."

"Whatever," you pass him and head to the kitchen to make yourself a snack.

[mrsbarnesxxx]

thinking about what modern!james potter would do when he sees that reader is sad. maybe some family issues, like her sisters get along with her family really well, and they go out and stuff and she just feels kinda left out? maybe with some self image problems? and james is there to save the day. thanks 🤭

You're KILLING me with these requests love! He would be so sweet. I'm so sorry this took so long. I was so lost on what to do with it for a while.

Warnings: poor self talk, slight angst, James potter being the absolute best boyfriend.

He starts to notice that you're acting off. The two of you have been spending the holidays with your family. You had introduced him to your sisters, of course, he was his naturally charming self and they had loved him. However, he had noticed a slight rift between you and them, nothing like Sirius and his family, more like a slight competition of sorts.

He'd notice their more expensive clothing, the inside jokes between them, the way they never bothered to include you in their outings. You tried to hide it, but of course he noticed. How could he not when he was completely absorbed by anything you do?

"What's wrong pretty girl, huh?" He asks sitting next to you on the couch and stroking your cheek

You fake a smile, his voice pulling you from your thoughts, "Nothing's wrong Jamie." You lie

"Nah..." he smiles pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you. "You can't fool me that easily. What's going on?"

You sigh debating how much to tell him. "It's just..." you sigh. "It's silly, but my sisters always just hang out with each other. They have their jokes between the three of them and I feel like they don't need me anymore. They never ask me to go to movies with them or shopping like they used to. It's like they've suddenly forgotten about me." You take a breath before continuing. "And then they're all so pretty and have boys dropping at their feet wherever they go and I didn't even have a boyfriend until you."

James smiles for some reason, he can't help it. You're so adorable when you're upset.

"Why are you smiling?" You shine curling into his chest.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He says smiling wider. "You're just so adorable." He presses a kiss to your head. "I know it must suck to feel like they don't need you, but it's a part of growing up. Maybe mention to them that you feel left out, or invite them out with you. As for the boys thing missy, you could have hundreds of boys falling at your feet, but you never even notice them. Like last semester, you didn't even notice when Amos Diggory was shamelessly flirting with you. Or the time Fabian Prewett knocked himself over in the library by staring at you."

"They did not!" You exclaim.

"Oh but they did. You ever wonder why Fabian broke his nose?" James smiles.

"Because of me?" You ask in disbelief.

"Because of you, you little minx." He smiles.

"Thank you, Jamie." You smile pressing a kiss to his cheek. He blushes a pretty shade of crimson before deflecting into a different topic.

"What do you want to watch?" He asks grabbing the TV remote.

"Ooh! Have you ever seen Despicable Me?" You ask excitedly.

"Is that the one with the weird yellow tic tacs?" He asks pulling a blanket over the both of us.

"They're called minions!"

"They look like tic tacs." He defends.

I smile clicking on the movie.

"Get ready for a looonnngg night, Potter. There are more than one of these." You smile.

"Oh no." He fakes a groan and yet the boy still smiles and presses play.

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart  || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 20A: I Don't Need Nothing When I'm By Your Side

So hold me close, better hang on tight Buckle up, baby, it's a bumpy ride We're two kids hitching down the road of life Our world, our fight

-- “Born To Be My Baby,” Bon Jovi (1988) [click here to listen]

North Carolina || February 1989

Jamie frowned, looking back and forth between the shelf he’d just put together and the three unpacked boxes of books (two marked CLAIRE, one marked JAMIE).

Would she like them organized alphabetically by author? Genre? Size?

He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. Or perhaps she wanted medical books in her workroom? And maybe he could put his music books on the cabinet in his studio –

“There you are.”

He hadn’t heard Claire pad into the room – at some point they would need to get throw rugs to protect the gorgeous old hardwood floors – and smiled as she effortlessly stepped into his embrace.

They held each other for a long moment – his lips against her hair, her face buried in the safety of his neck.

Almost three months since the acoustic tour had ended, the night before Claire’s birthday. About six weeks since they had closed on their dream house, nestled against a mountain in the forests of North Carolina, not too far from The Ridge. And about two weeks since the items in storage – from her packed-up apartment in Boston, and his packed-up house in Los Angeles – had arrived.

The property had everything they needed. Privacy and solitude, of course. An old barn that they were using as a garage for Jamie’s motorcycle and cars. The house – an old cabin, really, dating from the 1800s and which had been lovingly expanded over the years – was perfect. A spacious living room, complete with the original stone fireplace. An eat-in kitchen, with newly replaced appliances. Two small rooms off the back that were now his music studio and her workroom – spaces to pursue their interests. A modestly-sized master bedroom. And a small extra bedroom – which for now was for guests, though God willing would be a nursery very soon.

Claire had insisted on doing two things quickly, before spending their time unpacking all the boxes.

The first was to hang his six gold and two platinum records in his studio – and he agreed, after he had hung her framed medical school diploma on the wall of her workroom.

The second was to install the fax machine on the bare floor of the studio – which, together with the phone, was their only link to the outside world.

For as much as they isolated themselves in this beautiful, peaceful place – the world pushed along without them.

In March, they would leave for L.A. and three weeks of rehearsals with the band. Maybe play a few small gigs in clubs on the Sunset Strip – Jamie had always wanted to do that. And in April, they’d fly to Europe, and kick off the tour that had swelled to 120 dates and stretched into 1990.

Colum was busier than ever – finalizing logistics, negotiating with local promoters, running interference with the suits from the label, upgrading the concerts from arenas to soccer stadiums. He had a conference call with the band every Tuesday – with Ian calling in from Lallybroch in upstate New York, and Angus from various resort spots in Mexico and the Caribbean (“I can’t believe Charlotte and Molly haven’t worn him out yet,” Jamie had mused to Claire one day. She had only shrugged and said, “they take care of each other”). Colum would always have a punchlist of decisions for the band – OK to book studio time during the week off in Scandinavia in July? The roadies couldn’t figure out the pyro setup without the band, OK to wait until rehearsals? They would need to film at least three music videos, which one could be a live performance? – and follow up with decisions in a fax sent later that day.

Jamie had been clear with Colum that he had three conditions for the tour: that Claire would be with him, that Raymond would be traveling with the band, and that the same no alcohol/drugs/groupies rule from the acoustic tour would carry through to this tour. Of course Colum had agreed. Just as he’d agreed to make provisions for Jenny to periodically fly out to visit Ian, and for Angus to always have a suite with two bathrooms to keep his girlfriends happy.

Claire and Jamie knew that this tour would be difficult, for so many different reasons. But they would be better prepared this time, to draw strength from each other, and to have Raymond for support. And maybe, just maybe they would return home from Europe with the best souvenir of all…

“Another fax from Colum,” Claire murmured after a long while.

Jamie snorted against her hair. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.”

“I do admire how hard he’s working for you and for the band. And how much he’s keeping all of you in the loop on the decisions he’s making. He doesn’t want any surprises.”

“I’d imagine not. The amount of bullshit he has to be putting up with right now must be insane. I just hope he doesn’t crack.”

“He never said if he’s bringing Tricia on the tour.” Tricia – Colum’s wife of more than ten years. She stood a head taller than her husband, still impossibly beautiful in her late thirties, smiling for every frown on her husband’s face. Claire had only met her once – couldn’t say she really knew her – but she knew enough about her.

How she had first met Colum at a party in 1970, when he was a roadie for Led Zeppelin and she was part of a gaggle of groupies that held court at the Riot House in L.A.

How, when she and her girlfriends joined the Led Zep tour the following summer, he had punched out the lighting guy at the Cow Palace in San Francisco when he heard the guy didn’t understand what Tricia meant by saying “no”.

How Geordie Ash – the reporter who had put Jamie (and, in a way, Claire) on the map last year with that Rolling Stone article – had sent flowers to her hotel room every day for a month during Led Zeppelin’s 1973 U.S. tour. Not knowing, of course, that she was allergic to lilies – or how Colum, who knew more about her by that point than he cared to admit, had wordlessly disposed of them for her, every day that month.

“I don’t think she likes to tour.” Jamie’s thumb traced lazy circles on the skin of Claire’s back. “Too many bad memories.”

If you asked any rock journalist or musician who had found Alex MacGregor – assistant to Led Zeppelin manager Peter Grant – dead in his Seattle hotel room in the spring of 1975, they would all say quite confidently that it had been Colum Laird, who by that point had advanced to lead Zeppelin’s touring crew.

But a handful of people – Peter Grant, and Colum, and Jamie, and now Claire – knew the truth.

Tricia woke up, Alex cold beside her in bed, a needle in his arm. The only thing she knew to do was slip quietly down the hall, tumbling into Colum’s room…and finally, his arms. Where she had remained ever since.

“I couldn’t imagine being away from you for so long.” Claire sighed. “I don’t know how they make it work.”

Jamie shrugged. “They love each other very deeply. They fixed the broken pieces in each other. And now she has the two boys to keep her busy.” He kissed her forehead. “Something for us to aspire to, perhaps. What’s in the fax?”

She held it out for him to read. Sharing a smile at Colum’s scrawl.

J+C: I’m not calling because I interrupted enough moments between you on tour and I’ll probably do it again this year. I don’t have Raymond’s info pls have him get in touch so we have a copy of his credentials and the travel agent can make all arrangements for Europe. I got the label to foot the bill for his travel meals and hotels, convinced them it’s a business expense, you’re welcome. Stay out of trouble. Colum.

“We’ll have him give Colum a call after he arrives this afternoon,” Jamie mused, folding the fax and sliding it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Claire nodded. “The guest room is all ready. And I’m glad Dougal and Gillian and William will be here tomorrow – I’m so happy they’re so close by.”

Jamie squeezed her shoulder, and released her. “As am I. Now, I have a question for you about these books…”

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter 13 I The Man

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

Chapter Summary: Reader is given an award. Jamie is supportive

Word Count: 5.2K

Warning: Some sexism hehehe

A/N: Plot plot plot! But there's some of my favorite jamie x reader moments in this one. Next is Amsterdam!!!!

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve

I woke up alone. Now this was something I was used to at this point. Ever since Jamie had started doing his early morning runs with Roy, we hadn’t been spending as many nights together. Not that I liked it, but it was something I was getting used to.

My alarm went off at 6:00, as per usual. I did some yoga, showered, then was brushing my teeth when I got an unexpected text from Rebecca. It read:

            Please come to my office when you get in today.

Hm. That was an unusual text to get from your boss at 7:30 in the morning. I racked my brain trying to think of something I’d done to get a talking to. Yeah, it hadn’t been a great month for us, but it wasn’t anything I’d particularly done.

I finished up with my skin care and decided to head into work early to get whatever this was over with. I arrived at the club not much later, waving at the caretaker as I walked in. The walk up the stairs to Rebecca’s office felt excruciating.

But when I arrived there, it wasn’t just her. I opened the door and there was Higgins, Keeley, and Ted sitting in front of her desk.

            “Good morning, guys,” I entered approaching the group. “I didn’t know it was a party.”

            “(Y/N)!” They all greeted in unison.

            “Ah, that wasn’t creepy at all!” I laughed, trying not to show my nerves.

Rebecca motioned to a third seat. “Please, take a seat.”

I took off my backpack as I sat, holding it in front of me. “I’m not getting fired, am I? Oh my god, you’re firing me?”

            “What? Oh heavens, no!” Rebecca dismissed, shaking her hands. “Why on earth would you think that.”

            “Well, its all of you here, and I just walked in and thought it, I don’t know!” I shook my head. “If you’re not firing me, what are you doing?”

They all exchanged looks excitement filling their eyes.

            “Oooo go on! Tell her!” Keeley insisted, clapping her hands.

            “Tell me what?”

            “The anticipation is killing me!” Higgins chimed in.

            “What anticipation?”

            “She doesn’t even know what’s about to hit her!” Ted added.

            “Please just tell me what’s going on before I kill someone!” I was practically shaking at his point.

            “Oh, alright,” Rebecca addressed me finally. “(Y/N), the league is honoring you with Coach of the Month!” 

The group all cheered as I took in the information.

            “We have a press conference this afternoon,” Keeley told me. “We’ll brief you on everything you’ll need to do but we are just so excited for you!”

            “Couldn’t be happier for you,” Ted smiled. “You’re part of what makes this team great!”

            “Of course, she is! I hired her!” Rebecca hummed proudly. “I always knew you’d be great.”

I frowned. This wasn’t right. None of this was right.  They kept talking at me about what was going to happen. An interview, a photoshoot, a magazine cover but all it sounded like I was underwater. I had to get out of this room.

I stood up, grabbing my bag and leaving without so much as a word. I hurried down the stairs and outside into the car park. Why was I so upset? Why couldn’t part of me just be happy about this? I heard the door open behind me and I knew one of them had followed me.

            “Look, now I know emotions are a subjective thing, but I don’t know usually there’s at least a smile when you get a cool award.” Ah Ted. Just the person I didn’t want to see right now.

I shook my head. “Please, Ted. I don’t want to do this right now.”

            “Now, I’m confused. What exactly aren’t we doing?” Ted asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

            “This!” I shouted, pointing between him and me. “You giving me some anecdote about how I’m good enough and how I earned this because you and I both know that isn’t true.”

Ted furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

            “I know why Rebecca hired you.” The statement hung in the air. The truth behind the whole operation at Richmond. The secret I’d overheard in the coach’s office at the end of Ted’s first season with us. “And it’s the same reason she hired me.” Ted paused, nodding his head. I couldn’t help but let out an ironic laugh at the situation. “We both know that I was hired because she thought it would make us lose.”

Rebecca, so overcome with her hatred of Rupert, hired Ted and Beard and I because she thought it would make the worst coaching team. We would drive the team into the ground ruining Rupert’s favorite team. This was something I tried to ignore but since finding out it seem to legitimize some of people shouted at me on the internet and what Max had said to me before I left. I wasn’t meant to be here. I wasn’t saving the league. I was just a girl pretending to know what I was doing.

            “Now, (Y/N), I don’t know what you think you heard but-“

            “Please cut the bullshit, Ted,” I snapped, cutting him off. “I’ve worked really hard to get past it, but I don’t deserve an award when I’ve done nothing to earn it.”

Ted’s mustache twitched. “You’re right. Rebecca hired both of us to make some point to Rupert. That is true. But something else that’s true is that you’ve consistently proved her wrong at every turn.” I opened my mouth to say something, but Ted held up his hand. “Now, you might not see it, but Beard and I and even Roy, we all depend on you to keep this whole thing afloat.”

I let out a breath and wipe at my lips as I stare at him. I certainly hadn’t been feeling like that recently. Since the West Ham match, we’d been on a losing streak, and I’d been so in my head about all of it that I couldn’t do my job.  

            “I just…” I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore Ted. And this Coach of the Month is just another bullshit excuse for me to know that I’m not meant to be here.”

All I could hear in my head was the sound of my failed dreams and Max’s taunts and the paper missing the bin over and over and over again.

            “Hey (Y/N),” Ted’s voice appeared much closer than I thought he would be. “Do you remember that puzzle metaphor I told you about?” I scrunched my face up, nodding my head. “Well, that metaphor has a lot of different meanings. Maybe you should try to put it together again.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Can’t you just tell me what you mean for once, Ted?”

            “I mean,” He chuckled at my frustration. “You’re stuck in a rut, yeah? So, instead of trying to put the puzzle back together the same way over and over again… maybe you were putting it together the wrong way. Maybe you need to… try something new. And maybe…” He nudged me, forcing me to look over at him. “Maybe you should let someone help you put that puzzle together.”

I still didn’t get it. Well not fully. But I think I understood the gist of it. The funny thing was as we were staring at each other, Roy and Jamie came running up. Jamie smiled at Ted and I coming to run in circles around us.

            “Mornin’ Coaches,” He smiled, starting to run in place.

            “Tartt! You’re not done yet! Get to the training room and start lifting.” Roy followed up; a bit slower.

Jamie groaned loudly. “I ain’t even stopped or nuthin’. I were just sayin’ hi.”

            “Go!” Roy barked, pointing towards the door.

Jamie rolled his eyes dramatically before shooting Ted and I a wink. Roy shook his head as Jamie made his way inside, seemingly off to the training room.

            “Mornin’ Roy, good training with Jamie?” Ted asked Roy.

            “As good as it can be,” Roy grunted. “What are you two doin’ out here?”

Ted looked over at me, motioning for me to tell him. I shook my head at him, grunting that I wouldn’t. Ted hummed back that I absolutely would and that we wouldn’t leave until I said it. I let out a huff.

            “The leagues giving me some bullshit title of Coach of the Month that doesn’t actually mean anything but they’re making a big deal out of it,” I informed Roy finally.

He grunted is a way that sounded vaguely positive. “Good for you.”

            “Fuck off.”

            “Alright.”

The day was filled with Keeley throwing me through the PR wringer. What to expect, what to say, what not to say. I wasn’t super excited about it, but Ted’s words were rolling around in my head. I hated puzzles. I’d never liked them. I thought I’d figured out Jamie’s puzzle but now there was another puzzle. When would it end.

            “Okay, the most important bit is the press brief we have this afternoon. They’ll bring in you and some of the lads to talk about you as a coach,” Keeley told me, writing down some notes.

            “What will they be asking?” I questioned, trying to look over her shoulder.

            “Oi don’t be looking over my shoulder,” she reprimanded, shouldering me away. I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest. “They’ll ask you probably your normal annoying questions about being a woman, but also about the team and such.”

I grumbled. “I didn’t hear them asking Pep what it was like being bald why do I have to talk about being a woman.”

            “That’s because no one cares what it’s like being bald,” Keeley pointed out, giggling. “Being a woman is actually interesting.”

            “Is it really?” I rolled my eyes. “So, uh… what guys will be coming to talk about me?”

Keeley hummed as she flipped her notebook shut. “I dunno, I was gonna ask to see who wanted to later. Do you have anyone in mind?”

Yeah. Yeah, I did. “No, I don’t want to force anyone to do it.”

            “Sure. And Ted is gonna introduce you, of course.”

            “And this is all happening tomorrow?” I pushed out of my chair. I’d already waisted the whole day, I at least wanted to get to the end of training.

            “Yup!” Keeley smiled at me. “Don’t stress, you’re gonna be great.”

I shot her a sarcastic smile. “Oh yeah, I’m gonna love it. It’s gonna be amazing.”

…

Later that night, I was resting in Jamie’s lap. I felt goosebumps spreading over my body as Jamie’s hand stroked my stomach lazily. On the TV, an episode of New Girl that I’d seen hundreds of times played but I wasn’t really paying attention.

            “Jamie…” He hummed, letting me know he was listening. “Did they tell you about this… Coach of the Month thing?”

His face broke out into a smile as he looked down at me. “Yeah, it’s great, innit? So, fucking proud of you.” He tightened his grip around my waist, shaking me proudly.

I found myself blushing at his praise. Even though I thought it was kind of stupid, Jamie being proud of me was affecting my happiness a little too much.

            “Yeah… I guess… I don’t know what I think about it,” I admitted, rolling so I was looking up at him. He cocked his head, motioning me to continue. “I guess, I just don’t know if it’s because I’m a good coach or if it’s because I’m a woman or whatever.”

Jamie scrunched up his face pursing his lips in confusion. “What… why would they do that?

            “I don’t know to make themselves look better?” I sighed, lifting myself off his lap and leaning forward. I ran a hand through my hair. “I just… I’m not sure I’m ready to go out in front of all those people and talk about myself.”

Jamie leaned forward so his shoulder was touching mine, stretching his neck so he could try and rest it on my shoulder.

            “What are you doing?” I asked, looking over at him.

            “’m trying to comfort you, you daft idiot,” he explained, rubbing his cheek on your shoulder.

            “You’re acting like a cat,” I crowed, trying to push him off of me. But he wrapped his arm around mine arm pulling me into him, rubbing his cheek all over my shoulder and neck. “Stop!”

He grabbed my legs and pulled them up into his lap, pulling me so I was sitting on him.

            “Look, whatever happens tomorrow, just know that me,” he pressed his cheek into mine. “And the rest of the lads know how amazing you are. Not just as a coach but as a person. But especially as a coach.”

I giggled, pressing back into him. “What about you Jamie? How are you feeling about playing Man City this week?’

He shrugged. “My stats level up against Man City. They’ve played well this year but we’ve got the ability to win.”

            “No, Jamie… I mean,” I turned around, so I was facing him, my legs now straddling his waist. “How do you feel, like you.”

He frowned, his nose scrunching up in a way that was far too cute for one man. “I feel… uh… I feel fine.”

I reached up and rubbed the space between his eyes. “I don’t think you do babes, you’re gonna give yourself wrinkles.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning his neck back. His neck was so exposed, it was so tempting to just… lean forward and kiss his Adam’s apple. I looked up and decided to play a little bit. I leaned forward and kissed him, right on the bottom of his neck where the skin sunk in a little bit. He hummed, the vibrations tickling my mouth.

            “Jamie, baby,” I murmured, kissing up his neck, finally finding his Adam’s apple. He groaned in response. “C’mon, I want you to talk to me.”

            “Can’t talk when you’re kissing me like that,” he croaked, his voice deep and gravely. So, I stopped, pulling away from him completely. “Hey! Wait!”

I started to slide off of him, but he wrapped his hands around my waist and yanked me closer to him. He buried his head in my neck kissing me furiously. I shrieked grabbing onto his hair to tug him back.

            “Jamie, if you talk to me I’ll give you the best blow job of your life,” you waggled your eyebrows at him.

He whined, cracking his neck back and forth before slouching back. “I feel… fine. I guess. Haven’t heard from me dad in a while. It’s not like… I’m afraid he’s gonna be there but not knowing is worse.” I nodded at him, rubbing his collarbones. “But fuckin’ Zava’s probably gonna take the attention anyways.”

I gave him a sympathetic smile. “Well, it’s okay to be worried about your dad but… we’re at home. We’re on your turf. He doesn’t even need to be allowed in if you don’t want.”

            “I’m not gonna ban me dad,” Jamie grumbled. “I just… want to know.”

I nodded again. I gave him a satisfied smile before pulling him down into me to make good on my promise.

He wanted to stay over that night, but I insisted that I wanted to maintain my regular routine for the next day. But laying in my bed that night, staring up at the fan, I wished he was there with me.

I arrived at the club early. Like 6:30am early. The groundskeeper had barely arrived by the time I got there. But I was nervous. I’d been able to avoid press conferences, manage photo events and stay in my lane for the most part but today it was all on me. And why was I wasting a day doing this when we had out Man City game this weekend, I’ll never know.

            “Oh, my god, how long have you been here?” Keeley asked, handing me a coffee as she walked into the press room.

            “Since 6:30, I couldn’t sleep,” I told her accepting the drink gratefully.

Keeley clicked her tongue at me soothingly. “It’s gonna be alright, you’ve got this. I just want you to be yourself up there, yeah? We’re starting with the photo shoot first today, the press conference will be this afternoon, when the boys are free.”

And that came faster than I expected. After a long day of cameras and poking and prodding I was left staring at the door of the press room. I could practically hear it, the flashing of the cameras, I could feel it, the stares of the journalists waiting for me to slip up, waiting for their next scoop. Ted was in there right now, talking me up. I picked at my thumbs, trying to steady my breath but I was struggling to find it. I felt like my head was buzzing, and that my heart was moving at a thousand beats per second. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to drown out the now blinding florescent lights.

Suddenly arms were wrapping around me, holding me so tight. “Hey, it’s okay, I got you.”

Jamie. I immediately latched onto him. I didn’t care if we were in public, I didn’t care if someone from the press room got a peak at this, all I cared about was Jamie’s steady heartbeat helping me regain my control.

            “There you go,” He murmured, lips brushing against my temple. “Just breath, love.” I did as he instructed, finally finding the control of my breathing. I let myself blink my eyes open and look up at Jamie. He smiled at me, brushing some of the hair out of my face. “There she is.”

            “Hi, Jamie,” I squeaked at him, resting my chin on his chest.

            “You know it’s kinda nice seeing you be the needy one for once,” he said to you.

I gaped at him, scoffing. “Don’t say that, I’m having a panic attack and you’re gloating?”

            “I gotta take it where I can find it,” He chuckled. Then he leaned down and kissed my temple, his lips lingering there. “You’re gonna be amazing in there.”

            “What if I’m not… what they want?” I croaked. “What if I mess up or do something stupid.”

            “It would be right funny if you did that!” You gasped and hit his chest. “Hey! That hurt. I’m just sayin that you could become a meme.”

            “Jamie!”

            “Alright, alright, jus’ there’s no way they won’t want you cause… I mean you’re everything there is to want,” Jamie noted, as if it was easy, as if it was simple.

I felt that breathless feeling again but this time it wasn’t because of panic, it was because of Jamie. I smiled with my lips tucked, looking between his eyes before reaching up and kissing him. He kissed me tenderly, softly. In a way that made me hum in contentment. I probably would have stayed like that if it weren’t for the next intrusion.

            “Oi!” Roy’s voice made us jump apart. “If the two of you want to keep this a secret, then you better stop kissing in the fucking hallway.” He growled as he marched towards us. “Tartt, go get changed you’re gotta be in there in 5 minutes.”

I looked over at Jamie surprised. “You’re coming to talk about me?”

            “Obviously?” He stated, rolling his eyes. “Even if we weren’t dating, you’d still be my best friend.” I just about melted at that one.

            “Uuuuuugggggghhhhhhhhh,” Roy groaned loudly, grabbing Jamie by the arm and starting to drag him down the hallway. “Good luck, (Y/N).”

I laughed, covering my face as I watched them go. Then the door to the press room opened and Keeley poke her head out.

            “You ready, babes?”

I watched Jamie disappear into the locker room and I felt that tell-tale flutter in my chest. I felt okay. I was going to be okay.

            “Yeah, let’s do it.”

She pulled me into the room as Ted was finishing up his speech.

            “(Y/N) (L/N) has overcome incredible odds. And she has done it with a smile. So, without further ado, it is my honor to present you with (Y/N) (L/N)!”

I walked up on the stage to scattered applause. I waved hesitantly sitting down in front of the microphone. As I did, they all flooded the stage putting up their own recording devices. My eyes darted around the room at the different reporters until they landed on the back of the room where Rebecca, Higgins, Trent, and Keeley stood. I nodded at them, glad to have some friendly faces in the room.  

            “Uh… hi! I’m (Y/N) (L/N)…” I started, looking around to focus on someone. How did Ted do this? “I’m happy to be chosen as the Premier League’s Coach of the Month. Uh… does anyone have any questions?’ Immediately the room exploded as all their hands raised up. “Um okay you, in the front row.”

            “Hi Ms. (Y/N)-“

            “It’s Coach (L/N).”

            “As a woman, what do you think the league can do to work on intersectionality across the teams?”

I furrowed my eyes brows. “That question doesn’t even make sense.”  

Again, the hands raised, everyone calling out my name. I pointed to someone in the back.

            “Coach, do you think being a woman has enhanced your ability to coach men or made it more difficult to understand the difficulties of being men in sports?”

            “That’s like two questions shoved into one and the answer is no.”

            “Coach (L/N), when you applied for the job here at Richmond did you do it to prove a point?”

            “What? That’s not-“

            “Where do you think the feature of the league is in terms of gender equality?”

This was going about as well as I thought it was going to be. I let out a frustrated sigh as they continued to shout questions at me. In the back of the room a door opened and in walked Colin, Sam, and Jamie. Colin waved at me, crossing his arms at his space in the back. I looked across the back of the room, at Ted and Keeley, Colin and Sam, and Jamie. The people in my life that made this possible. That made me possible.

            “Okay, okay, everyone listen up,” I announced, hitting my hand on the table. The room went quiet. I shot Keeley an apologetic glance before taking a deep breath. “Listen, I didn’t take this job because I wanted to make some big statement about feminism or gender inequality or intersectionality. I took the job because I wanted to play football for money, just like any of the lads on the team.”

“And if you really cared about gender equality, you’d be talking to the many female coaches that coach the women’s league. Or the many female players? Why don’t we talk about the wage inequality when the women win more games? That’s what you should be asking me about!”

I leaned back in my chair and looked around the room. The reporters were all silent until one, Marcus Adebayo, raised his hand.

            “Yeah, Marcus,” I called on him.

            “Coach (L/N), how do you feel about Richmond’s chances against Man City on this weekend?” He asked, pen at the ready.

I paused for a second, let out a huff. “Thank you, you know Man City has kept us down for a long time, but I think our chances look good.”

…

Our chances were not good. The game was bad play after bad play, the boys were just not at their best. You wanted to blame it on Zava, the bastard decided to retire without telling anyone and didn’t even show up to the game. It was depressing and everyone felt it.

            “Yeah… it was tough out there today,” I said to the reporter after the game.

            “You are Premiere League’s Coach of the Month; do you feel like there was something more you could have done to secure this win?” The reporter asked bluntly.

            “That’s somewhat of a redundant question. I’m an assistant coach. I do the best I can, but the boys are the ones who need to win, and they just didn’t have it today.” I replied, shrugging. “That’s all I have time for, sorry.”

I left the reporters with a small smile and started towards the locker room running a hand through my hair. This had been tough, and Keeley hadn’t been able to show up. Something about Shandy and a baby lamb and a lot of poop. I’m sure I’d hear about it more later.  But for now, I walked into the depressing atmosphere that was the locker room.

I looked around the room, the boys sat silently in their despair. Jamie sat on the floor in front of his cubby like he did when he was upset. I glanced over at Bead and Roy who gave me a pair of sad smiles back. I looked over at Zava’s empty cubbies and frowned. I hated Zava. To come here and bring these boys hope then abandon them without a word I’d never be able to forgive him for that.

            “Gentlemen, Hey,” Ted Emerged from the office. “That was a tought on tonight. Okay? Man City has still got our number. That… that’s all right.” The boys murmured a sad response. “We’re gonna get another crack at them later in the season. Uh-huh. Coach,” He addressed Beard. “No practice tomorrow yeah?”

            “That’s right”

            “Okay, well, I’ll see y’all on Monday,” Ted finished starting to turn around.

            “Hey, hey. Hey Coach!” Sam spoke up. “What about Zava? He quit the team.”

I looked back over at Ted, wondering the same question myself. Ted sputtered a moment before answering. “Technically he retired from the whole sport, which does make it feel a little less personal, yeah? You know, like if, uh, your girlfriend runs off with some dude and it turns out they were soul mates.”

Again the boys grumbled a response, something about Gina Gershon was in the mix but it was mostly positive. I thought Ted might end it there, but he didn’t.

            “Look. I hear you, okay? Zava is gone. And You what? I think it’s a good thing.” I perked up, interested to see where he was going with this. “Well, I do! Okay, look. Do I wanna win? Heck yeah? But I also wanna do it with folks that wanna be here.” I nodded, agreeing with his sentiment. “It’s not like we could handcuff him to his locker and make him love us.”

            “We could have tried,” Dani cried from his spot. I could help but let out a chuckle, knowing that he really meant it.

            “Hey, guys, look,” Ted regained their attention. “We got a good thing going here. Alright? We didn’t need Zava. Yeah?” Ted looked over at Jamie who nodded. I felt my heart warm knowing Ted was using Jamie’s words to encourage the team. “All we need to win are the fellas in this room right now. And all you fellas need to do is believe it.”

Just as he spoke the believe sign behind him fell, the torn pieces revealing themselves. The boys all starting clamoring shouting in fear.

            “It’s a sign!” Bumbercatch shouted.

            “That’s it. We’re doomed,” Colin agreed.

In the moment it was hard to disagree with them. Things hadn’t been great recently. And this just felt like the final nail in the coffin.

            “Hey, knock it off, okay? We’re not doomed. No one is doomed,” Ted putting his hands up to calm everyone. “But, Bumbercatch, yes, you’re right. It is a sign. I agree.” He took down the two pieces and ripped them in half. I felt myself reaching out to stop him, not even knowing I was doing it, but surprisingly, Jamie’s hand on my leg stopped me. I looked down at him and he nodded towards Ted. “Belief doesn’t just happen cause you hang something up on a wall. Alright? It comes from in here.” He pointed at his chest. “And up here,” at his head, “ and down here.” At his stomach.

“Only problem is, we all got so much junk floating through us, a lot of time we end up getting in our own way. You crap like envy, or fear, or shame.” I swallowed hard, biting my lip. I knew he was right, I’d been letting my fear and shame of who I was get in the way of my happiness. Of my abilities as a coach. “I don’t wanna mess around with that shit anymore. Do you?”

We all shook our heads, some of the lads responding with a ‘no’, or a ‘no, coach’

“No, me neither. Hell no.  Well, you know what I wanna mess around with? The belief that I matter, you know? Regardless of what I do or don’t achieve. Or the belief that we all deserbe to be loved. Whether we’ve been hurt or maybe we’ve hurt somebody else.”

“Or what about the belief of hope? Yeah? That’s what I wanna mess with. Believing that things can get better. That I can get better. That we will get better. Oh, man. To believe in yourself. To believe in one another. Man, that’s… that’s fundamental to being alive. And look. If you can do that, if each of you can truly do that…” He ripped the sign in half again. “Can’t nobody rip that apart.”

With that he walked over to the middle divider and slapped the ripped-up sign down on top of it.

“See y’all, Monday?”

The whole team responded with a ‘Yes, Coach’ before turning back to their cubbies to get ready to leave. But I stayed there. Staring at the broken sign. I wanted to believe. I needed to believe. And this team, these people, they helped me believe. Come what may, this whole room had my back.

…

I was still thinking about it as I arrived home that night. I didn’t expect Jamie to come over, it’d been a long day and he was waking up early still to do extra training. So, when he knocked on my door, I was surprised.

            “Jamie? What are you doing here.” I asked him, pulling him inside.

            “I wanna tell people about us,” He answered quickly. My eyes widened. “I know why you’ve been wanting to keep it a secret and I get that; I do. But… what Ted said today I just… I believe in us. I believe in you making me a better person and I don’t… I don’t want to hide that anymore.”

I stared at him, unsure of how to respond. I didn’t know if I was ready yet for the whole world to know. For ours to become theirs. I loved Jamie, I really did but what if it changed too much. Or worse, what if people tore us apart. Luckily Jamie continued speaking before I could answer.

            “You don’t have to decide right now. I just wanted to put it out there.” He nodded at me before leaning down and kissing my cheek. “Alright, I’m gonna go now.”

And he was out the door.

Fuck.

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