MASTERLISTS ʚїɞ WORKS IN PROGRESS + REQUEST DOCKET
fandoms i write for right now;
- twilight (volturi/cullens/wolfpack)
- letterkenny
- saints row
- stranger things (under @upsidedownmvnson )
- star wars
- mcu / xmen / all marvel
- dragon age
- the boondock saints
- game of thrones
- hemlock grove
- narnia
- until dawn
- ted lasso
- top gun: maverick
summary: you've loved bradley bradshaw for years, watching him choose well - not you for years. jake seresin loves you so much he's willing to put his needs aside to help you with rooster if that means you won't take a job offer that takes you off the island.
warnings: angst, fluff, smut (p in v, oral f recieving) bradley is kind of a douchebag, jake is yearning, jake down so bad, reader is female
a/n: first top gun fic, hope yall are still in the market
"I once heard a rumour that pretty girls aren't supposed to sit outside of a party by themselves." Jake smiles, that easy, charming smile he always had for you. "But that's just a rumour."
He slides beside you, tucked in close, passing you a beer, acting nonchalant when your fingers brush against his.
Jake has perfected the act of pretending that you're not everything he's ever wanted. But he's hasn't mastered the art of letting go. He knows, he knows that you're meant to be his, that you were made for him. He's almost positive he wished for you over birthday candles once.
"What're you doing out here, sweetheart?"
You don't answer, but your eyes lead his, landing on Rooster with some leggy redhead tucked between his legs, he smiles easily while she plays with the collar of his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt.
"He's an idiot," Jake sighs, "and you deserve better than him anyway."
You shrug.
You'd known Bradley for years. You both went to the same university, where you took medicine, becoming a doctor. You fell in love with him at school, but never tried anything, always thinking it was never the right time. But anytime you thought maybe you should move on, Bradley did something, just enough, to keep you hanging on.
Jake's eyes narrow over the ocean. He knows Bradley knows about your feelings. They've never talked about it, but how could Rooster not know.
Jake's been watching Rooster string you along for the better part of a year, and it makes him sick. How could Bradshaw just, waste away his time like that? The perfect woman, smart, funny, kind, beautiful. A fucking doctor for crying out loud - who better to be with a Navy man? Someone who understands that there's risks in life, someone that understands how precious time is.
"You should make him jealous," Jake finds himself saying, surprising both you and him.
"What?"
"You know," Jake continues, not sure where the words are coming from. "Make him jealous, make him make a move."
"Oh yeah? And how exactly would I do that? I've been on dates and he never cared, he's seen me kiss guys, and he just... he doesn't care, Jake. He doesn't want me."
Jake frowns. "I told you. He's an idiot."
"They offered me a job in Parkland Memorial Hospital in the emergency room."
Alarm bells ring in Jake's head. You can't be talking about... leaving? Leaving. Leaving!?
"I'm thinking about it - thinking space might do some good, I can finally, finally just... get over it."
"You can't just leave," Jake says, hand gripping the railing so hard one of his knuckles crack.
"I can't keep this cycle up, Jake." You look at him, his tense jaw, how his eyes stay focused at one point in the distance. There's no denying how beautiful Hangman is. Your eyes flit over to Rooster, who's pulling the girl closer. You look away before you have to see them kiss. "I'm tired."
"I'll help you," he says, and he's once again unsure where the words are coming from. But if making Rooster make a move is the only way Jake gets to keep you in his life, then he'll do it. He can't lose you. He won't. "And if it doesn't work in a month, I'm sure that job'll be there for you, or a better one."
You don't answer, and Jake takes that as a maybe.
Anything, anything would be better than you packing your bags.
The next day, you're sitting in your office on base, finishing sending in inventory for the medical supplies you need.
Not too much happens on base, anything really bad ends up sent to the hospital with you in the back of the ambulance providing care. It's not that exciting - which is good, exciting work for a doctor usually means someone is seriously injured.
But here you are, asking for more gauze and tape, and that's okay too.
A knock on the door followed by, "Hey doc," breaks you out of your trance, and Jake comes strolling in, small smile on his lips as he glides over, leaning on your desk beside you. "How are you feeling today?"
"Right as rain, Jake."
"Mmm," he mumbles, looking at the papers on your desk, before running his gaze over your face. He's noticed that your lips have been holding a soft pout for weeks, like you've given up on a dream. It makes his blood boil. He wants to fix it. He leans back a bit, arms crossed on one foot crossed over the other, and he keeps his eyes on you. "You think more about that job offer?"
You sigh, "No, not really. It's ... hard. I want to make the decision that's best for me and not base it off of Bradley." Your shoulders slouch, "but I - I just have no idea what to do. All my friends are here, I love my job."
"So stay," Jake says, "Don't run from where you are over Chicken."
For the first time, ever, you don't tell Jake not to call Bradley that. You just smile, finally looking up at Jake. He takes the moment head on, and leans towards you. One hand on your desk, the other on the back of your chair, legs spreading wide in a way that makes your breath hitch - but if Jake notices he doesn't comment on it.
"There are lots of things here that can make things better, you know."
You're so close to him.
You've never been this close to him.
No one ever understood the friendship you two have. Nat thought it was odd, the way that Jake seemed to gravitate towards you, always finding you a sea of people, like he was magnetically drawn to you. But he never made a move, never talked about you in ways he's talked about other women, never expected you to fall at his feet. And rarely ever laid down the moves he so easily threw at beautiful people. Nat noticed recently that Jake's been on a dry spell - and doing absolutely nothing to change it. Even when women threw themselves at him, he just smiled politely, and got you another drink.
Unfortunately, you saw this as platonic - how? No one knows. Everyone else can see it for what it is. Payback and Fanboy have a bet going about who confesses first, you to Bradley or Jake to you. Fanboy bet on you confessing, Payback on Jake. Coyote wants Jake to get the girl. Bob silently hopes you find a nice, stable man outside of the military because he adores you and doesn't think either Hangman or Bradley deserve you. While Natasha and Halo just want you to be happy.
"Jake, I..."
The door opens, and both of you snap your attention to the person, Bradley, obviously, walking in.
He hesitates, eyeing the closeness between you guys suspiciously.
"Sorry, am I interrupting something?"
You say no the same time Jake says yes. And you both look at each other, smiling like you're sharing an inside joke.
"Did you need something, Rooster?" Jake asks, and you hit his chest playfully.
"Come in, Bradley. Everything okay?" You ask, pushing up from the desk and gliding around Jake's arm, which makes the chair roll back and he has to catch himself, praying you didn't see that.
"Yeah..." he starts, "I just have this... uh," Brad looks at Jake. "Can I maybe talk to you privately?"
"Of course," you nod, "Jake?"
"I'm going," he rolls his eyes. "Lunch?"
"Yeah, I'll see you then."
"I'll bring you something."
Jake smiles, winking at Bradley, who is still looking at you with confusion written over his expression.
When Jake leaves, Bradley's eyes trace over you - looking for something.
"What's wrong?" you ask, looking him over for injuries.
"It's nothing just... I have a really bad sunburn on my back is all, wanted something for it," he explains, and you move to the cabinets to get some cream for him.
"I should still look at it," you say, "take your shirt off."
As he does, he talks, "what was Jake in here for?"
"You can't ask me that. Turn around," you spin your fingers, and he obeys.
"Right, yeah," he mutters, "didn't really seem like a clinical thing though."
"Bradley, stop." You look over the burn, it's red sure, but doesn't really seem that bad. With gloves on, you rub some of the ointment over it. It should make you blush maybe, but this is your clinic, and your job, and you don't take the moment as anything more than what it is. Being a doctor. "Just put this on again before bed, and in the morning if you need it. If it doesn't go away, come back. But it looks fine."
Bradley nods, but doesn't move. Doesn't put his shirt back on.
"You didn't say goodbye last night."
"Huh?" you ask, "I didn't see you all night, I didn't think I had to."
"Oh, you don't, I guess, but..." he looks down, "you usually come say bye."
"Me and Jake head out early," you explain, shrugging, indignation rising in your chest. Who was he to complain? He was wrapped up in someone else anyway... were you meant to tap him on the shoulder and wait for their lips to break apart just so you could say goodbye to someone you hadn't even spoken to that night?
"Together?"
"Yeah, he wanted to make sure I got home, I had a bit more than normal." You move to your desk, filling out a sheet to add to Bradley's file. It doesn't really need a sunburn update, but you do it anyway, for something to do with your hands under Bradley's intense stare.
"Right, okay..."
"Is that okay?"
"Of course it is, I'm just... checking in on you, that's all." Bradley finally puts his shirt back on. "Do you, are you going to the gala next week?"
"Yes," you say, instantly, too instantly.
"Me too," he says, "I was thinking we could go together."
"Oh?" your hand stills, your heart races. Is... is he asking you out? Did Bradley Bradshaw fake the pain to come to your office? Is this really happening? All these years of pining, and yearning, are they ending? You almost say yes, but then he speaks again.
"We used to go to stuff like this as friends all the time, and I thought... It would be fun to do it again, is all, better than standing around alone. My date bailed when she saw me take home this girl last night - she was so pissed off, you should hear the voicemail she left."
Your heart shatters.
It's so loud and painful you're almost sure he can hear it.
"I already have a date."
You say it before you can think about it. It comes out in a snap and you can't take it back.
"Oh," is all he says.
"Yeah," you say, trying to find the excuse out of this, you land on, "Jake asked me to go with him."
"Hangman? You can't be serious." You can practically hear Bradley roll his eyes as you tuck the paper into his file.
"Why not?"
"He's... he's Hangman!" Bradley has never raised his voice to you before, and he doesn't yell, but the tone he uses is something you've never heard directed at you as he says, "you're going to be Hangman's date!?"
"What's so bizarre about that?" you ask, turning to face him finally.
"He's not good enough for you and you know that."
You both stare at each other, arms crossed, angry faces mirroring each other. This is as close as you've come to a fight, ever. Usually you would back down, but you're... offended, on Jake's behalf. Jake has always been a perfect gentleman to you, and a great friend. He's been an amazing friend to you, actually.
"Jake is wonderful. Now if you don't need anymore medical attention, I have work to do."
You answer leaves no room to argue. Bradley leaves - without saying goodbye, one might point out, and closing the door harder than he needs to, enough to make your shoulders flinch. His attitude left a bad taste in your mouth, and you don't like it at all.
Rooster comes back to the group hot headed and ready to blow.
The air is tense, made more tense every time Jake cracked a joke, or answered a question, or did anything.
When Mav leaves them for a moment to talk to Cyclone about something, Nat finally asks what the problem is.
"Ask Bagman," Rooster mutters, rolling his eyes.
Jake scowls, "Hey, what the hell did I do?"
"You're taking her to the gala?" Rooster crosses his arms, and pouts like a schoolboy. No one has to ask who he's talking about.
An easy grin lands on Jake's face, and it only irritates Rooster more. Jake, being the guy he is, goes along with it. He never actually asked you - but absolutely would love to have you on his arm for the night. So he's all too happy to play along. He's all too happy to be your date.
"And what's the problem?" is all Jake asks.
"You're my fucking problem!"
"Well," Jake shrugs, "you snooze, you lose, brother."
Rooster is quick to anger. And pushes Jake before the others can grab him. Jake just laughs, walking a few steps back and out of Rooster's reach.
"Don't get mad at me for wanting her," Jake says, and it's earnest, he means it, they all know he does. "You just don't want anyone else to have her in case you change your mind, and honestly, Chicken? That's so messed up."
"You don't know anything." Rooster pushes Fanboy off, but he stays close by, in case Rooster lunges again.
"I know that she is special, and I know that she deserves the world. And I know that you could never give that to her, so I will." Jake glares at Rooster. "And I'll do it better than you ever could, and I'll do it fucking gladly. Because being in her orbit, well that's a goddamn honour, and I will not be squandering it like you did."
Nat and Bob share a look that says... damn - maybe Jake is the one. Everyone is quiet. Rooster is breathing heavily, jaw ticking in anger, but Jake is cool as can be, not worried in the slightest. Coyote puts a hand on Jake's shoulder, and the two share a smile.
When Mav returns he senses the tension, but he doesn't say anything about it, just gets back to business.
And both Rooster and Hangman both have you on the mind.
At lunch, Jake shows up with two meals in hand.
You're at your desk again, looking over paperwork when he strolls in, just happy to see you.
"You're in luck, Doc," he says, "they're serving your favourite today."
A bright smile crosses your face when he sets the food down. Jake hesitates, only briefly, and decides it's okay to lay a soft kiss on your hairline as he hands you your meal.
"Thanks, Jake," you sigh, "I like... I like when you come here for lunch."
His heart flips. His cheeks feel warm and he knows the tips of his ears are turning pink at your admission.
"I like coming here," he says softly, pulling up a stool to sit beside you.
"It must be nice to get away from the chaos for a bit."
He shrugs, "I don't mind the chaos, I just like spending time with you."
"Big softie," you smile.
"Don't let the others know."
A knock on the door makes him tense, but he relaxes when Nat comes into the room. He thought maybe Rooster was coming to talk you out of going with Jake to the gala.
"Hey Doc," she says, "Hey, Bagman."
"Nix," Jake says, "she's not doing walk-ins, she's taking her lunch."
You hit him on the arm, laughing. "He doesn't speak for me, you okay?"
"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I actually just came by to invite you out later. Me, Halo and some of the other girls are going for drinks later and thought you might like to come."
"Oh," you say, "that sounds great!"
"Perfect, I was hoping you'd say that." Nat looks at Hangman, who isn't being annoying, miraculously, and he's just unwrapping your food before his own, like it's the most normal thing in the world. She can't help but note how much different he is when it comes to you, and it's... endearing, in a way. "We'll swing by your place to pick you up."
"Just text me the time," you say, "I can't wait, I need a girls night."
"Anytime."
Natasha leaves, hurrying to find Bob because she needs to debrief both the fight, and Jake sitting at your table setting up your plate immediately. It was almost domestic, and she needs to talk about it.
"You know what happened earlier?" Jake asked, and you shook your head. "Rooster pushed me after finding out I'm going to be your date next week."
"He pushed you? Oh, I'm so sorry Jake, I should've asked first but it just came out," you flush, looking him over like he'd told you that he was pushed down a flight of stairs.
"No, it's okay," he smiles, "would you like to go with me? It'd be an honour to take you."
"You don't have to," you rush, "I swear, I can just tell him I was lying. I don't know why I did that."
"Stop apologizing. I'm asking you because I would like to go with you. It would be fun."
"As friends?"
Jake looks at his plate, then you. "I mean yeah, we are friends. But it would still be a date. I pick you up, I get your drinks, we dance. Just because we're friends doesn't mean you're not getting the full treatment."
Something clicks in your head.
You're not entirely sure what.
But there are butterflies in your stomach, and it just feels... easy. Like how you wanted it to feel when Bradley asked you. With Jake it's, nicer. It feels better. It feels right. You don't know what it means, but you like it. You like being around Jake.
"I'd love to."
"Good," he smiles, "now eat, before one of those knuckleheads needs something else."
Jake gets a call at one in the morning.
He wants to ignore it, but he worries that it's his mother. He worries even more when he sees your picture across the screen.
"What's wrong?" he answers, heart pumping when he hears little sobs from your end of the line.
"I'm scared," you whisper. "I got too drunk, Jake, please."
"Please what? Where are you? I thought you were with Nat?"
Jake's already getting out of bed, moving to get into the pants he discarded earlier.
"Rooster and Fanboy showed up, crashing girls night. And it was fine," you hiccup, "but then Nat wanted to leave and Brad begged and whined for me to stay, so I did. And then he disappears, like, almost immediately. And Fanboy left with a girl and..." you whimper, "and I'm drunk and I can't find Rooster. Will you, would you please come get me? I'm sorry to ask but..."
His reply comes out immediately, "I'll be there in 10, stay where the bartenders can see you." And Jake's ears ring at the name Rooster. You rarely call any of them by their call signs. But he doesn't think he's ever even heard you say Rooster. It feels like the first crack in the dream. It feels kind of like hope.
Jake speeds to get to you.
You didn't listen, maybe you couldn't have because you're stumbling, Rooster has an arm around you outside the bar, he's holding you up and doing a piss poor job because Jake can see how unsteady you look from his truck.
He puts it in park right by the door, stopped in a no parking zone and ignores the annoyed look from the bouncer, immediately coming to your side.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks, brushing your hair off your face and looking you over, making sure you've got your bag and assessing whether to take you home or to the hospital. Dramatic, maybe, but with you it's important. He's actively ignoring Rooster's stupid face. He keeps the focus on you, and away from Bradshaw, because he doesn't trust what would come out of his mouth.
"Jake," is all you say, practically falling into his arms and out of Rooster's.
He holds you tightly, fully supporting you and not letting you fucking wobble around.
"What are you even doing here? I've got it. I was just about to get her into a cab."
"No, I will get her home safely, since you left her in the fucking dust, Chicken." Jake eyes the girl rolling her eyes and waiting for Rooster, and his anger hits a boiling point. "What? Were you just gunna roll her into the cab and fucking hope she makes it to her front door okay?"
"Jesus, Hangman, sorry if I don't want to ruin my night just because someone else got too drunk."
"Ruin your - !? You're pathetic, Rooster." Jake catches you as your knees wobble out from under you, and he picks you up, hands braced under your knees and behind your back, holding you close as you snuggle into his chest, humming happily.
Rooster's jaw ticks at the way you seem ... comfortable, in Jake's arms. Bradley was convinced what you and Jake were doing was just ... fun, flirting. This seems... more real than he was expecting. When Jake starts walking away without another word, Rooster feels extra indignant.
"She'll never love you the way she loves me, you know!" Rooster yells.
But it falls on deaf ears.
Because Jake loves you so unconditionally that it doesn't matter. He will be what you need. Even if it dismantles him in the process.
Jake gets you settled in the passenger seat, makes sure your seatbelt is done up before getting into the driver's seat. Rooster and the girl are gone before he pulls out of the lot, but he can't think about that now, he just drives steady and slow, not wanting to make you feel any worse.
It's so irritating, watching Bradshaw act like such a loser. And he only seems to do it to you, which is just extra irritating. He can't stand it.
The drive to your apartment isn't far, he parks and makes his way to your side, fishing the keys out of your purse before hanging it off his arm, strong forearms cradling you to carry you bridal style to your door. He makes it seem easy, the way he unlocks the door and brings you into your place. He locks the door behind him, and brings you into the bathroom, setting you on the toilet, making sure you're steady before continuing his work. He puts your purse on the counter, pockets your phone, and grabs a couple make up wipes to take the makeup off. He's as gentle as can be, even when you're grumbling and groaning, about fireball and lemon drops.
"Can I have this?" you ask, fingers pinching the shirt he's wearing. "Looks mighty comfy."
"You want the shirt off my back, huh?" he chuckles, but takes it off. "Anything for you."
You hum happily, peeling your shirt off without warning, and Jake trains his eyes to the ceiling. They feel like they're made of concrete the way he has to keep them up and off you.
"All clear, Lieutenant," you say, cheesy grin on your face, but his breath hitches, and he coughs to cover it up.
"Let's get you to bed," he says, helping you up again, and letting you walk on your own.
"Thanks for coming to get me," you whisper, sliding into bed. "I got really nervous and I just... I thought you'd be a safe person to call."
"I'm glad you did," he says, tucking the blanket up to your chin. Mostly for comfort, but also because knowing you're laying in nothing but his shirt right now was an image he didn't know he'd ever be able to get out of his head. "I just want you safe and happy."
You hum in response, easing into the pillow, eyes closing and breaths already getting slower. He starts moving to leave, and you eye him again, pout on your lips. He looks like an angel, shirt off, hair messy from sleep, soft smile on his face.
"Jake?" you whisper, "will you please stay in here with me?"
"Oh uh, yeah, okay," he says, shuffling over and crawling into bed with you. He keeps his jeans on, because taking them off while you're in the bed and drunk just doesn't feel ... right.
You don't seem to mind, you just snuggle into Jake's chest, hand splayed across his abs and it makes his stomach somersault under your touch. You fall asleep instantly. Jake hesitates, but rests his chin again your hair, letting himself pretend, just for tonight, that he has you.
The night of the gala, Jake feels sick.
You look ... beautiful.
No one has ever looked as beautiful as you since... well he thinks ever. And he knows that tonight is the night - in one way or another. Maybe Rooster will confess, or maybe you'll take the job offer. Either way, Jake is probably going to lose you tonight.
But it doesn't stop him from holding out his elbow to you, smiling softly at you and leading you into the party.
Rooster can't keep eyes off of you.
His date, the redhead from the bar all those nights ago, clings to his side like she belongs there.
And you see that, but it doesn't twist you up inside.
Like, maybe she does belong there. And maybe you belong here.
Jake's been a perfect gentleman the entire evening. He holds a palm over your lower back as you laugh and chat with Nat, he grabs you a new drink as you give Bob a big hug and compliment how well he cleans up. He pulls you closer when Coyote asks you to save him a dance, making you and Javy laugh.
And then he leads you to the dance floor.
He spins you gently, just as he knows you like, he holds you close and keeps his eyes on your face as he sways you to the music.
At some point between Jake spinning you softly and dipping you at the end of the song, you realize that you're not concerned about where Rooster is. Another slow song starts and Jake brings you back up, holding a hand securely around your waist, the other holding your hand and he just dances, eyes on you the whole time, smile soft, and warm. And you realize... you're not putting on a show, you're just dancing, and you're happy, and you want Jake to pull you close again.
And he does pull you; so close his nose brushes yours and his breath, whiskey coated and a hint of spearmint gum, fans over your lips. You can’t help but feel drawn in, you want to be drawn in - you want Jake. Not as a consolation prize, not as anything other than the man he is.
“Can I cut in?” Rooster asks, startling the pair of you. “Can we… can we dance?”
"Uh..." you start, ready to say no, but Jake she kisses your hairline, and it feels like goodbye, not permission.
"Don't spin her too fast," Jake says, eyes avoiding you, "she hates that."
And he slinks away without another word, grabbing a drink and finding Coyote in the crowd - not looking back at you once, because he can't bear to see it. Coyote gives him a sympathetic squeeze on the shoulder - but he's got nothing to say.
Rooster holds you the same way Jake did; but it's not as warm. It doesn't feel as... right.
"You look beautiful," he says finally, and it's no less awkward. The compliment not making you blush the way Jake's do. Not anymore.
"Thanks, Rooster."
"I don't... I don't know when you started calling me Rooster but I thought, I thought I was always Bradley to you."
"Your friends all call you Rooster."
"You're not just my friend though," he whispers, "you know that, right?"
"But I..." you start, then stop, eyes flicking to the door and you watch helplessly as Jake walks through it. Your eyes find Rooster's again and your heart plummets. Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't he what you wanted?
So why is your body desperate to go follow Jake?
"I have to go," you rush, dropping Rooster's hand, but he doesn't drop his from your waist. "Jake went outside, I want to find him. He's my date, I want..." This is the moment, the moment you choose. "I want to go find Jake."
"Is this... do you love him?" Rooster asked.
"I don't know," you answer, honestly, "but I know that he's who I want to spend the rest of my night with."
"I always kinda thought that... I always thought it would be me and you ending up together, you know? Just... I didn't realize that I love you until now."
It was all you wanted to hear.
But...
"I have to go," you whisper.
...all you can think of is Jake.
Rooster's eyes fall to the floor, his stomach sinks even lower than that. "You really do look beautiful."
"Thanks uh, Bradley," you start shuffling your dress up so you don't step on it while you're walking, "see you at work!"
When you find Jake outside, he's leaning against the wall, hand braced above his head like something is causing him pain. You clear your throat and scare him, trying not to laugh as he clutches his chest, not finding it nearly as funny as you.
He looks you over quickly, lipstick still intact, no Chicken trailing behind you.
“How uh, how did that go?”
“Rooster told me he loves me.”
Jake smiles sadly. “That is… awesome. Yeah, it is, it’s great.”
“Jake…”
“Don't say my name like that,” he sighs, “you might have to call me Hangman now, actually, you know what - you have to call me Bagman.”
“Jake...” you chuckle.
“Oh my god,” Jake mutters, heart flipping in his chest, throat tight with regret. He’s just lost what little of you he had and you insist on torturing him by saying his name so fuckin' pretty. Like you're the only one who knows how to say it at all.
“I told him no.”
This makes Jake's eyes snap to yours, and his brow furrow. “What?”
“I told him no, I told him I came here with you and,” you smile, Jake malfunctions. So you close to gap, running a hand up Jake's neatly pressed dress whites, “and I’ll be leaving with you.”
“Me?” he whispers, unsure.
“You,” you smile softly, and the corner of his lip turns into a smirk, anyone else would think it's cocky, but you know he’s nervous, you know him, better than anyone. “If you want me to.”
“Baby,” Jake whispers, hands finding your hips over the soft fabric, and they grip you tight enough to hold you steady. “I want you so badly I was willing to let another man have you just to keep you on the island.”
Your hand slides up more until your fingers are softly against the side of his face, and he looks down at you like there is nowhere else he’d rather be.
That's the difference. Rooster only wanted you because he thought he lost you, thought you would be steady and waiting forever and suddenly you weren't. But Jake... he was willing to lose you if that's what would make you happy. Jake wants you because he loves you, because he’s afraid of wasting one second with you. Like the thought of not having enough time makes him ill.
“If I kiss you now,” Jake whispers, “It's real. I want you. I want everything. All of it, slow mornings, birthdays, holidays, parents asking when they're getting grandkids, all of it.”
“It's real,” you promise. “Kiss me?”
“Yes ma'am.”
When he kisses you, it's exactly right. Like the end of a romcom where the girl is swept off her feet by the real hero of the story.
He kisses you so softly, every move intentional and reverent. He doesn't rush. Just moves his lips against yours like he's exactly where he wants to be. His hands stay steady on your waist, while your thumb rubs softly against his cheek. His tongue rolls lazily into your mouth and you moan, and you can almost feel the smirk on his mouth as he nips your bottom lip, pulling away to rest his forehead on yours.
His eyes are glassy, relieved, filled with adoration as he looks at you.
"Do you want to go dance some more, baby?"
The pet name rolls off his tongue like it belongs there, and you shake your head no.
"I want you to take me home," you say, placing another chaste kiss on his mouth. He smiles, letting go with one hand and letting the other slide around to your lower back, leading you back to his truck without a second thought. There would be a lifetime of chances to dance, but that's not what you need right now.
Right now, you just need him.
"Jake, please," you moan, hands thread through his hair as he devours you like a man starved. "Just want you."
He pulls away for a second, fingers still moving inside you, and he kisses the inside of your thigh. "Stop rushin' baby girl, we got all night. And I'm still hungry."
"Baby, baby please."
He grunts, pained to decide between drawing another orgasm out of you with his mouth or giving into your pretty, pretty begging.
He was never one to deny you.
Jake crawls up your body, trailing kisses across your stomach, chest, neck as he does, before settling comfortably in between your legs. As he kisses you, you taste yourself, and you moan against slippery lips, hands wrapped around his broad shoulders like a lifeline.
"I'll be going back for more later," Jake says, making you laugh against him, tucking your face into his shoulder.
"Perv."
"If that's what it makes me, so be it."
His hand moves between you, grabbing himself to line himself up with your centre, and he drops his head against your shoulder at the feeling. So wet, and tight, and warm - he knows he won't last. It's been too long and you're, well, his dream.
"Please," you mutter, biting into his shoulder, begging for all of him, and he sighs, pushing into you.
You both gasp, the feeling of him stretching you so perfectly, no pain, no discomfort, just two people that were made for eachother.
The movements start slow, pulling back only a few inches to push back him, he wants to stay inside you, to feel you around him the rest of his life.
And then he slowly picks up the pace, listening to your moans to find the right spots inside you, the right tempo that makes you close your eyes and arch your back. He's learning every sound you make, committing it all to memory.
Jake’s hips stutter against yours, it takes everything in him to keep his composure, to stop himself from filling you with cum the second he’s inside you.
“Baby this is… you’re a dream - baby, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, i can’t … you feel so, so good baby.”
“Jake,” you mewl, “Jake it feels so good - makin’ me feel so good”
“Yeah, baby? You like it?”
“Love it - love you.”
Jake hips stutter again, and he stills. Large palms brushing over your forehead, moving damp hair away from your face, and his smile is soft, reverent.
“I love you too,” he whispers, slotting his lips against yours in a sensual, languid kiss, and his hips move again, slow, deliberate, controlled. "I love you so much." He angles himself deeper, hiking one of your legs over his waist and around his back, letting him sink fully into you, both of you moaning in tandem. "I'm sorry baby, it's - it's too fuckin' good, I'm not gunna be able to hold out."
"That's okay," you moan, "it's okay, let go. I want you to feel good."
"I feel so fucking good, baby."
"We have all night," you wink, "we'll go again."
He doesn't need anymore coaxing, he stills inside you, spilling deep, groaning against the curve of your neck, the vibrations sending a chill down your spine. He doesn't move, stays locked deep inside you, fanning kisses along your neck.
Eventually, he pulls out, and he hisses with over sensitivity. In his wildest dreams, this is always where he ends up, wrapped up in you. Not even just the sex, but the closeness of having you near, of being able to kiss you as he pleases, of not having to worry about needing his hands on you.
As you lay tangled in the sheets, your hit with a moment of clarity. Of everything you must have been putting Jake through the last week, and it feels akin to how you felt. His steady breaths a comfort you didn't know you needed, and you nuzzle closer into his side, with him happily making room to draw you in closer.
"I'm sorry," you say, guilt gnawing at your heart.
"What for?"
"For..." you sigh, "For asking you to help me with Rooster, I... I wish I fell for you in a better way, I wish it wasn't sullied by the drama."
"It's not sullied," he says, rolling over to face you, hand sliding under you to hold your cheek, thumb brushing over the curve of it. He smiles. "I don't feel like a second choice, I feel so, stupidly, insanely happy. I do not care how we got here, I'm just happy we're here."
"Are you sure that you won't, resent me?"
"I would do anything for you," he says after a moment, "I don't care that you used to love Bradshaw, I don't. I love you, I loved you unconditionally, and patiently, and it all worked out. Love is messy, baby." He kisses your nose. "Love you," he kisses your forehead, "love you," he kisses your cheek, "love you."
And he kisses you fully, slowly, pouring every ounce of love he has to give into you. And you sigh, content, comfortable, madly in love with Jake fucking Seresin of all people, with his cocky attitude and boyish grin that makes you feel alive. He fills your cup. He leaves room for you on busy days. And he never, ever strings you along for anything, ever. To him, you are the only feasible answer. To him, you are everything.
And to you, he is what home feels like. He is where warmth stems from. He's not just exciting, and handsome (so fucking beautiful really) but he's sturdy.
You pull away first. "I love you, Jake."
He just smiles, and brings you in for another kiss.
And another.
And another.
And then he groans as he rolls back on top of you, ready to promise you forever.
But you're both happy to start with tonight.
The rest of your lives can come one day at a time. And you'll face them all together.
bonus: epilogue
Rooster nurses his drink while his date talks his ear off about, what exactly? He doesn't even know.
His eyes drag back over to you, as they have all night, as has everybody’s, and he can't help the sigh that leaves him. You're a vision in white, the most beautiful bride anyone has ever seen.
And he's not the groom.
Hangman is.
Rooster looks at his date and feels a mix of resentment and guilt. She’s perfectly lovely, in a dress that exactly fits the theme and colour scheme, and she’s been kind to all of his friends. But she's not you.
He looks at you again, and watches Jake pick you up and twirl you slowly, holding you close to his body. Rooster's stomach drops the same way it had at the gala all those years ago.
Then Jake kisses you. Rooster clenches his jaw and looks away quickly. His date follows his previous line of sight and she sighs, finishing her drink and excusing herself.
Rooster doubts she’ll return to the table.
He doesn't care.
Just takes another sip of his drink, watching miserably and wondering how this even happened.
How Jake stole you away.
How Rooster didn't notice until it was too late.
But on the dance floor, Rooster hasn’t entered Jake’s mind once. His thoughts were completely consumed with you, trying to memorize exactly how you look, right now, at your wedding, to him. This is the best day anyone has ever had.
“I love you, Bagman.”
He laughs, head thrown back and carefree, enjoying what will one day be considered one of the greatest highlights of his life.
I loveddddd your new fic!!! It was soooo cute and poor Jamie trying to fix everything he messed up 😭 It’s probably too soon to be asking but I would loveee to see a part two or maybe just a little blurb on how they’re doing later 👀 but take your time obvi and it’s okay if you don’t want to write it, I just wanted to let you know how much I loved it (especially since people were being mean to you, rude) Hope you’re doing well and I love alllll you’re fics! 💕
i am going to write the part 2!!
ive decided that one person being a brat about me forgetting to add the read more link (once again - it was only up for FIVE minutes!!! honest mistake!!) shouldnt ruin the fun, it was a huge bummer to see in the notifs over something i was excited about but, some people are haters
like just say it nicely!! i literally wouldve been like “oh my gosh im so sorry!” and fixed it
ANYWAY thank you for loving the fic!!! i want to give it a proper part 2, i want james to experience having a father & meeting the team & spoiler - im thinking a dad show and tell at school
The way you write Jamie Tartt is perfect. I need more, its like a drug. Stunning
thank you so much!!!! i LOVE writing him, im working on the next kent!reader & a part 2 to jamie finding out he has a son <3 he’s one of my fav fictional men to write about ever, he’s so fun
summary; jamie tartt breaks up with you when you're teenagers, so when you show back up in his life with a child that looks exactly like him, jamie learns a hard lesson about regret
ted lasso masterlist
a/n: i've been working on this one for a minute! may be a part 2 - not sure, it would be nice for James to meet the team, and Jamie's mum & learn who jamie is...
"So, you're saying you don't love me anymore?"
"No, babe, I'm not saying that I jus' think ... like I'm gunna be busy, and with trainin' and everythin' I won't be able to be a very good boyfriend and really, I jus' feel like I need more time to play the field. I don't want to be settled down yet and... I don't know it just feels like that was where this was heading... does that make sense?"
"Yeah, okay," you look at your feet, unable to face Jamie as he tears your heart out of your chest, throwing it in the back of his closet like all the other forgotten toys. "Good luck then, Jamie, I guess."
You start to get up, and Jamie has the absolute audacity to look shocked.
"Whoa, come on, don't talk like you won't be around to see it! I don't want to not talk anymore."
"You don't get both," you say, chin betraying you by wobbling, "you don't get to rip me apart and have me by your side too."
"I'm not - Jesus, I'm not tryna rip you apart, I just think we're not ready, you know? I've got a whole future ahead of me, and so do you, we're, we're just kids really."
"I'm not angry at you Jamie," you say, stopping in the doorway, leaning against it while Jamie grips the edge of his bed, his decision feeling more final than he thought it would be. "You're gunna be fine, just... be good, all right?"
"You're acting like I'm never gunna see you again - that's not what I wanted."
"Bye, Jamie."
You don't give him another chance to speak, you just leave. Your first love - your first, well just about everything, breaking up with you so he can date around while he starts playing football professionally. The pain in your chest blossoms when you leave his house, pulsing and thumping in your heart as you make your way down the street, hands tight around the purse in your hands.
He didn't give you a chance to speak before he started breaking up with you. Didn't give you a moment to tell him why you called him to talk.
The pregnancy test in your purse is weighing you down, it feels like a massive weight on your shoulder and you can't take it, you rip it out of the bag and toss in into the first garbage bin you see.
"Tartt, the funniest thing just happened to me," Colin says, kicking his shoes off, "I've seen a boy that looks exactly like you."
"Okay, weirdo, been lookin' at kids lately, have ya?"
Jamie laughs as Colin hits him on the shoulder. "Shove off that, it wasn't weird, he was just outside with Will, and you guys looks identical, it was kinda freaky."
"Does Will have a kid?" Isaac asks, "I didn't know that."
"Oi Will!" Jamie shouts, calling Will over. He'd been walking passed the room at the perfect moment. "D'you have a kid we didn't know about?"
"No... I don't think so. Unless I dunno 'bout him either."
"Who was the little guy you were here with a minute ago then?" Colin asks. "I thought he looked exactly like Jamie."
"Oh, that kid, uh, yeah I don't know - just came up to me maybe or uh, I don't know."
"Y'all right, mate?" Isaac asked, eyes narrowing at the response, "that was a weird way to answer. You don't have to tell us but jeez mate, don't sound so suspicious."
"Suspicious...? Oh god, no," Will sighs, "he's my cousin's kid. She told me not to tell. She's just giving me a ride this week."
"Who's the dad, is it Jamie?" Colin asks, laughing, all the boys laugh except for Will, who looks oddly petrified.
"I should really get to work," he says, rushing out of the room. Isaac is the only one not laughing, Isaac is the only one who noticed that Will didn't actually deny it. And that Will seemed cagey over the question.
Isaac turns to his locker, it must be a coincidence, right? Or just Kitman being an idiot. He decides that it's probably just in his head, that he's making up a scenario that doesn't exist.
But the next morning, he just can't drop it. He waits until Will is being dropped off before he comes out of his car, Isaac is doing everything to act nonchalant. Grabbing his bag outta the boot like normal, waving politely to Will and the mysterious woman in the car, and then trying to peak at the situation.
Nothing seems weird at all, and he doesn't know why he's even doing this, until a little voice calls his name.
"C'mon bud, don't yell at strangers like that it's not nice, even if they're famous footballers," you're telling the kid, but Isaac sees an opportunity and he takes it, he comes over to the group of you.
The kid is still in the car, buckled into a booster seat, wiggling around trying to get out.
"Big sports guy?" Isaac asks after polite hellos are exchanged, when you tell him your name, he smiles kindly, then turns to your son.
"Yes, the greyhounds are his favourite team. Watches them on the telly all the time, isn't that right?"
"I saw you on the telly!" the kid says, continuing to wiggle. "Mum?" he whispers, "can you let me out?"
And you do, and Isaac can't stop staring. Because this kid is the spitting image of Jamie Tartt. Same goofy smile, same puppy dog eyes, Colin wasn't kidding, this kid looks just fuckin' like the prick.
"What's your name, mate?"
"James, and I'm five," he holds up five fingers, and beams up at Isaac.
"Oh, you're 5!? That means you're a big man, huh? The rest of the team should be gathering inside, if you've got time, I'm sure they'd love to meet the little fella."
"Mum!"
"I'm sorry baby, but you've got school! Maybe sometime soon we'll come by and Will can show you around the club, ya?" You frown as James sadly gets back into the seat, shoulders slumped as you buckle him back up.
And Isaac tries to let it go.
He really does.
But he cannot shake that uncanny resemblance to Jamie's smile. And for christ sakes, the kids name is James.
Isaac drops his bag, unable to stop the wheels turning in his head as he watches Jamie, and that stupid, similar grin... is it Jamie's brother? Does Jamie know he has a brother? Is it a weird doppleganger situation?
Colin waves a hand in front of Isaac's face to try to get his attention.
"Y'good mate? You haven't moved in like, five minutes."
"Yeah, yeah, I just ... Jamie?" Isaac asks, thoughts still miles away. "You ever meet Kitman's cousin?"
"How would I know?"
"Her name is uh... ah fuck she just said it, oh uhm," when Isaac says your name, Jamie's face goes pale. His blood turns to ice, and he doesn't say one word. "Mate?"
"She was here?" Jamie asks finally, his voice sounding smaller than ever, barely above a whisper. "It can't be her, I mean, what are the odds?"
"What are you talking about?"
"My first girlfriend, well the first real one anyway that was... tha' was 'er name."
Colin and Isaac share a look, but don't say anything. Jamie runs to the parking lot, ignoring Keeley and Roy who call out to him in the hallway, but when he gets to the parking lot, you're already gone. If it really was you, he's let you get away again. He's kicks at some rocks in frustration, and slams the door open on the way back in.
Jamie tries to catch sight of you every day for the night week. But you're never there, and Will is not being any help at all. Jamie's losing his fucking mind, thinking you're so close and you know he's there, but you don't want to see him.
And he knows he's being selfish, that if you don't want to see him then he shouldn't be trying to make it happen, but you're all he can think about. How did you turn out? Did you go to school for what you wanted? Did you fall in love again? Do you still listen to the soundtrack of your favourite movie while doing housework? Who did you become? Would you like Jamie now? Would you like the person he became?
It's plaguing his mind as he walks across the parking lot, how was your mum doing? She'd been sick when he broke it off, and he... he never checked in.
And then he sees you.
The air around him grows impossibly thick.
His stomach turns with nerves.
You're still there with Will, talking to Roy Kent of all people, and Jamie has turned to stone, staring at you as if he's seeing a ghost in real time.
Without any input from his brain, his legs start towards you, and they don't stop until he's right in front of you.
Jamie Tartt is standing in front of the first love of his life, and you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. You've always been beautiful to him. But it's like he's seeing you for the first time all over again, and his stomach turns into rock and drops into his abdomen and he feels sick.
"You look beautiful," Jamie says before anything else, and Roy turns his lip up in disgust.
"Why would you start with that?" Roy asks, and turns back to you, noting the way your face has gone pale. "Ah, well, I'll be inside. Tartt, ten minutes." Roy starts to walk away. "And bring the little guy around for a tour!"
"Jamie," you say, too stunned to comprehend what was happening. Of course you knew there was a good possibility of running into him here, maybe you wanted to get caught - not for you, but for your son, Jamie's son...
"What are you doing here? You're not... you're not here with Roy, are you?"
"Wha - Roy? No, I just met him." You look towards the car and back to Jamie, thinking about your options. But it all feels like too much. You feel your knees growing weak, and you're overwhelmed and... you have to get out of here. "I have to go, school starts soon and I-"
"Are you a teacher?"
"No, I just... I just have to drop off my son."
"You have a kid?" Jamie falters a bit. He's thought about you a lot, and never had that thought crossed his mind, it never... he didn't... It wasn't fair for him to feel jealous at the thought of you moving on, it was his fault it all got thrown in the rubbish, but he felt it anyway. Images of you walking into the house with your son on your hip, to a man that scoops the little guy up and swings him around. "Who's the uh, who's his dad?"
"Jamie, I really have to go."
"Wait, can we - could we get coffee sometime? Or something?" Jamie steps closer, but you step backwards, inching towards the door. "Or dinner, or drinks? Or anything?"
"Jamie - I don't... I don't know what we'd say, I mean, you were right we were just kids and..."
"No, I..." Jamie pauses, looking into the backseat of your car where you son was rolling a hot wheels along the side of his car seat. "Is that, how old is he? Who did you say his dad was?"
"I didn't," you say, unlocking the car and slipping into the seat. Jamie stops you from closing it, not by force, but he just holds the frame.
"And how old is he?"
"I'm five!" James shouts from the backseat. "I saw you on the telly too!"
Jamie doesn't say anything else, the thoughts in his mind running too fast for even him to follow. You grab his wrist, moving his arm back from the door, and close it.
Jamie doesn't fight, just watches you drive away - with a boy that looks exactly like him.
"Tartt! I said ten minutes!" Roy comes out shouting, but when he sees Jamie, he stops, eyes blinking in confusion. "What is your fucking problem?"
"Why was she here? D'you know?" Jamie asks, his voice is distant - close, but as if his thoughts were miles away.
"That's Kitman's cousin. Why? Did she reject you?" Roy asked, smirk threatening to pull at his lips, but Jamie still hasn't turned around, so nothing seems quite funny yet. "What is your problem, eh?"
"Roy," Jamie lifts his hand and then drops it. "I think I just met my son."
"Fucking pardon me?"
"You think he's yours?" Colin asks, "I was just joking when I said he looks like you, honest."
"He looks just like me," Jamie puts up one finger, "he's five years old, and I broke up with her just over five years ago - I checked," he puts another finger up, "she named him James."
"Yeah that's..." Isaac and Colin look at each other. "Yeah, likely yours then."
"Why wouldn't she tell me?" Jamie said. "I could've, I would've... sent her money at least."
Roy grunts from beside them. "No wonder she didn't fuckin' tell you. Find out you may have a kid and the first thing to think about it is fucking money."
"Well I just mean I could've helped support em!"
"Kids need their fucking... a waste of - argh!" Roy stand up, and points at Jamie. "Make it right!" He shouts, and Jamie leans away, resting against Isaac as Roy stares him down.
"She didn't even tell me so how's it my fuckin' fault!?"
"I can only imagine it..." Roy backs off, and quiets down, but his tone is sharp - angry and vulnerable from unresolved issues that Jamie didn't cause but was feeling the consequences of. "Eighteen year old Jamie dumps his girlfriend and moves on with models and actresses and is all over the news... my heart breaks for that fuckin' girl and you..." Roy points at Jamie. "Did she have... people?"
"Well," Jamie is scared to answer, "her dad was already gone and her mum was pretty sick..."
Colin and Isaac wince. Roy is breathing heavily, just staring.
"I fuckin' hate you so much."
You don't drive Will to the dog track anymore, but Jamie waits outside just in case.
Until he sees Will walk in, head down like he's sorry. Jamie then usually waits another ten minutes or so after that, just in case.
But today... today Will feels extra guilty, so as he's walking passed Jamie, he slips him a post-it note with an address on it. No words exchanged, but Jamie hugs him, then runs to his car.
He doesn't care that Roy will make him run laps until his feet are bleeding, Roy's been riding him all week anyway - he can't sleep, can't eat. All he can think about it is you and that little boy. He needs answers.
So here he is, knocking on the door like a madman, but once again not getting any answer. He was going to explode. He takes a seat on the step, head in his hands.
He tortures himself by imagining your life without him. He pictures you happy, dancing with some man in the kitchen, experiencing your sons childhood with someone tall dark and handsome who wasn't a fucking idiot. But then he pictures a sadder, harder reality, where you were alone. Mum and dad gone, no man, just a single mum trying to get by right out of highschool.
You pull into the driveway before his imagination starts playing that Sarah McLaughlin song, but he'll admit, that was probably close.
You don't startle when you see him sitting there, you knew it was only a matter of time until Will cracked, he was kind of... soft.
"Hello Jamie," you say, too casually, like you're passing by a coworker you see everyday.
"Where's the little guy?" Jamie asks, eyeing the empty car seat.
"He's got school Jamie, I imagine they're halfway through the ABCs right now."
"Right, yes... got it."
"Jamie..."
"Don't say my name like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're... dismissing me. I think I deserve some answers."
You look at him thoughtfully. "Why?"
"What?"
"Why do you deserve answers?"
"What the- what do you mean? I've got a son and you didn't bother to tell me!" Jamie doesn't raise his voice per se, but there's a tone that left friendly behind.
You sigh, "let's take this inside, I don't need the neighbours to know that my sons father was on some trashy tv show."
And shame washes over Jamie like a cold bucket of water, and you move around him like you didn't just flip his world on his head. James is his kid, he knew it, but now he knows it. And he's missed it. First steps, first word, first day of school. He's missed it all. Christmases, birthdays, all have been without his dad.
"Jamie?"
"Hmm?" He can't look up from this one spot of your lawn, he's glued to the spot.
"Are you coming?"
He pulls himself out of his trance and follows you in. It looks like his moms house. There are toys littered across the floor. Pictures of your son hanging off the walls, he notes there are no boyfriends or husbands, and he doesn't rejoice, but he takes note.
"Why'd you name him James?"
"I don't... I don't really know. It seemed right, at the time."
"Does it still seem right?"
You smile. "I couldn't imagine him being anything else but exactly as he is."
Jamie nods thoughtfully. "Can I meet him?"
"I don't want to confuse him."
Jamie takes that as a maybe. You haven't said no, but you have let Jamie in the door, so that has to mean something.
"How's your mum?"
"She died," you say, and Jamie's eyes widen, "died before James was born."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Jamie is trying to calm down, your mum had always been sweet to him. He'd always liked her.
"You were already gone, and you were so excited to start your life it was just... it was how it had to be Jamie."
"I would've gone to the funeral, I didn't know I had to say goodbye." Jamie feels sick. He's been living this life of over indulgences and girlfriends (who he's treated poorly) and parties... and you've had the weight of the world on your shoulders.
"You would've seen I was pregnant, then you would've had to deal with that, then you would've grown to resent me... Jamie please, I've thought out every scenario, this was the best for everyone."
Jamie shakes his head, his face twists up in pain. "It wasn't, I would've been a dad to him. I would've taken him to home games and taught him how to ride a bike..." Jamie's throat tightens at all he's missed. At the daddy issues he's caused simply by not being around.
"Parenting is not all football and giggles Jamie, it's messy. And it's exhausting. And it probably would've gotten in the way of your career, and I - I did a fucking bang up job. James is happy, and he's healthy. He's got friends. I check for monsters. I taught him how to ride a bike."
"He can ride a bike already?"
"Okay I taught him how to get on a tricycle, but I will teach him how to ride a bike."
"I can do that part," Jamie says, "Let me do it. And I can check for monsters. And I can teach him how to kick a ball. I can have your back when you're parenting and I can help him with his homework." Jamie sighs. "I didn't know, and I was such a wanker. And I'm not even asking for you to give me a chance as a boyfriend," he mumbles 'maybe later' under his breath and you laugh softly, shaking your head, "but give me a chance to be a dad, I swear, I'll be such a good co-parent, I swear."
"Why don't you come by for supper," you sigh, "not as a dad. But... you can get to know him a little. He can get to know you."
"I love supper," Jamie says, making his exit before you can change your mind.
Jamie doesn't go back to training. He gets a haircut. Showers, puts on some nice clothes - but not too nice.
He can't stop thinking about James.
Can't stop thinking about you.
He's been... a fool. Such a fool.
Breaking up with you had always felt kind of wrong. There was always a part of him that wondered about you, always a part that was so sure you'd find your way back to each other. Which, in hindsight, is shitty, when you're dating other people but it always felt... something was always wrong. And he knows what it is now, it was his family, getting by without him. While he looked for something akin to love in all the wrong places, there had been a home, made without him.
Jamie tries to keep himself together as he pulls up to your house. He can't believe you're letting him in for supper, can't believe this chance is happening.
He parks the car, takes a few deep breaths, and collects the flowers and the toy cars from the passenger seat.
There isn't a time Jamie can remember where his nerves were so shaken. The back of his knees are sweating, his heart is racing, and his fingers are going numb.
If you don't open the door soon, Jamie may have a heart attack on the porch. Then Roy will really kill him.
"Hello?"
A tiny voice calls Jamie's attention, and there he is, James, standing behind a screen door, looking up at Jamie with the same eyes that are looking down at him.
"Hey mate," Jamie says, voice cracking with nerves, "is your mum 'ere?"
"Come in, Jamie!" he hears you call from the kitchen.
And the nerves get worse, because you come out of the kitchen with a messy ponytail, apron on, pulling off oven mitts and Jamie's heart leaps and bounds like it just landed on the moon.
And he wants to cry.
Wants to cry and scream and sob because this could've been his.
He could've gotten out of training, picked up flowers and brought them home to his girl, and his son, and maybe a new baby too - and then joined his family for supper.
He didn't even know he wanted this.
Last week he would've laughed.
This week he feels like crying.
"You look beautiful," he says, in lieu of a greeting once again.
You laugh, "I do not and you are early."
Jamie's cheeks flush. "I know, I'm sorry, I would've called but I didn't get your number. I was too excited to wait."
"Are these for me?" James whispers, not quietly at all, eyeing the bag in Jamie's hand.
"James, that is not polite. You didn't even say hello."
James pouts. "I said hello! At the door."
"Yes, but when people come to see us we ask how they are, not what they've brought us. Like this, ready?" you walk over to Jamie and he can smell your shampoo, and it's the same as you always used and his brain misfires. "Thanks for coming Jamie, you look well, how are you?"
"Good, I'm good thanks." Jamie's knees feel weak, you're so close to him. He can see the colour of your eyes, he always thought they were so beautiful. He still does. "I brought these for you," he says, holding out the bouquet.
You hesitate, surprised Jamie remembered your favourite flower. And the right colour. "Thank you," you whisper, and your hands touch when you take them, electricity shooting up your arm, and you swallow, suddenly less sure of every decision you've ever made. Jamie was always so special to you. You always... saw him. You knew there was more to him than the cocky, pretty boy attitude he'd had in school. You were the one who saw him for him. A bitter reminder that that wasn't enough.
"And yes, these are for you." Jamie hands James the bag. "They were mine growing up, they were my favourite ones."
"Oh," James says, gingerly taking the bag, he looks up at you and his eyes widen, like he remembered something, then he says, "thank you!"
"You're welcome."
"Why don't you two go play while I finish cooking."
You retreat into the kitchen with the flowers, and have to set them down, to breath. You grip onto the ledge of the counter, taking a few deep breaths. Jamie is... he's always been what you wanted. You'd resolved to not let those feelings back in. But it's hard. When the first great love of your life is here, in your home, looking like being with you and James is exactly where he belongs.
You shake the feelings out, or try to, and move to get the flowers in a vase, getting them in the kitchen window for some sunlight.
A knock on the doorframe startles you, and Jamie is standing there, tail between his legs.
"D'you need any help in here?"
"No, no," you say, waving your hand, smiling and feigning nonchalance. "You go play with James, he'd be all too happy to show you his room if you ask. That's why you're here, right?"
You don't mean it to sound bitter, but Jamie flinches anyway.
"I'm here for you too, I've uh," Jamie's mouth goes dry, "I missed you."
"Jamie..."
"I know," he says, "I know I made a real mess of this one, but... I'm not going anywhere I'm going to, I'm going to fix it." Jamie doesn't carry any of his usual bravado. He doesn't act like it'll be easy, doesn't even seem sure of how he'll do it - but he will do it. And for whatever reason... you believe him. "I want to be a good..." Jamie looks over his shoulder at James, he doesn't want him to hear. "I want to be around, for both of you."
"I'm not going to stop you," you whisper, almost as if the words came out before you could stop them. "Being here for him, I mean. I'm not going to stand in the way - but we do it the right way, no confusing him and no changing your mind." You take a breath. "So we'll have supper, and then by the end of supper you have to decide if you're in it for keeps or not, because if not then I won't subject James to a distant father, better to have none at all."
Jamie's eyes widen, and he nods, unable to say anything. He's scared. He's so fucking scared to blow it.
And he doesn't have the right, he knows he doesn't have the right but he wants you too. He wants you both. He wants to pull you in for a kiss and hug you, rubbing your back until the worries melt away. And he wants to go into the living room and pick his little boy up, spinning him around until his tummy hurts from giggling.
He wants it all.
And he doesn't have the right to any of it, but he's going to earn it.
During supper, one that feels normal and comforting, Jamie fits right in around the table, listening to James tell a story about something that happened at recess. You and Jamie are laughing, and sharing knowing looks because damn this kid is a terrible story teller... and you and Jamie nod along and encourage him, and then when the story is over Jamie tells him without missing a beat, "Awh, mate, that's the best story I've heard all week - can't wait to tell the lads at the club," and your heart soars because... maybe Jamie could do this.
Maybe you could let him in.
But then after dinner, as Jamie is showing James how to flip cars off the back of the couch, Jamie's heart rate picks up - he just... can't stop thinking about missing five years of his son's life. That is time he can't get back.
"Can you give me a minute, bud? I'll be right back and we'll play so many race cars, a'right?" Jamie says, and excuses himself out of the room.
At first, you're angry. You've seen Jamie panic before, and this is it - you think this is where he says he changed his mind and he's out the door forever. Again.
James is none-the-wiser, flipping his hot wheels off the side of the couch. But you've seen Jamie fleeing, and this looks exactly like that. You follow him down the hall, and stop outside the bathroom he ducked into, ready to knock and give him a piece of your mind, when you hear soft sniffling on the other side of the door.
You knock, and the sniffling abruptly stops, and you hear rustling, and then Jamie opens the door, eyes still filled with tears.
"What's wrong?"
Jamie sighs, and lets you into the bathroom. He sits on the edge of the tub, and looks almost exactly like your son does when you're scolding him. Spittin' fuckin' image.
"He's just..." Jamie sighs again, "he's perfect. He's so perfect, and beautiful, and I've just missed so much. And it's my own fault, and I'll never be able to get any of it back, and I jus'... I'll regret it forever."
You sit beside him, putting an arm around him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder - because you understand. James is perfect. And beautiful. You both sit in the moment for a minute, until there's a tiny knock at the door.
"Mum! Do you think Jamie can stay and play Candy Land with us? I think he'll like it," James says through the door, and James looks to you, waiting for your okay, but all he can think about is how much he'd like to play Candy Land.
"Yeah, sure baby!" you say, kissing Jamie gently on the forehead, before walking to open the door and bring your son back to the living room while Jamie takes a minute to fix himself up. As you're walking away he hears you say, "I think Jamie had so much fun that he might come 'round more often for supper, and to play race cars with you, how does that sound?"
And his heart swells with joy when he hears his son, clapping and cheering at the idea of Jamie being around.
When he comes out of the bathroom, you and James are sitting on the living room floor, and you're setting up Candy Land while James sits patiently, legs tucked under him and hands in his lap.
James waves at him, you smile softly at him, and Jamie's heart starts beating for the people in this room.
summary; jamie tartt breaks up with you when you're teenagers, so when you show back up in his life with a child that looks exactly like him, jamie learns a hard lesson about regret
ted lasso masterlist
a/n: i've been working on this one for a minute! may be a part 2 - not sure, it would be nice for James to meet the team, and Jamie's mum & learn who jamie is...
"So, you're saying you don't love me anymore?"
"No, babe, I'm not saying that I jus' think ... like I'm gunna be busy, and with trainin' and everythin' I won't be able to be a very good boyfriend and really, I jus' feel like I need more time to play the field. I don't want to be settled down yet and... I don't know it just feels like that was where this was heading... does that make sense?"
"Yeah, okay," you look at your feet, unable to face Jamie as he tears your heart out of your chest, throwing it in the back of his closet like all the other forgotten toys. "Good luck then, Jamie, I guess."
You start to get up, and Jamie has the absolute audacity to look shocked.
"Whoa, come on, don't talk like you won't be around to see it! I don't want to not talk anymore."
"You don't get both," you say, chin betraying you by wobbling, "you don't get to rip me apart and have me by your side too."
"I'm not - Jesus, I'm not tryna rip you apart, I just think we're not ready, you know? I've got a whole future ahead of me, and so do you, we're, we're just kids really."
"I'm not angry at you Jamie," you say, stopping in the doorway, leaning against it while Jamie grips the edge of his bed, his decision feeling more final than he thought it would be. "You're gunna be fine, just... be good, all right?"
"You're acting like I'm never gunna see you again - that's not what I wanted."
"Bye, Jamie."
You don't give him another chance to speak, you just leave. Your first love - your first, well just about everything, breaking up with you so he can date around while he starts playing football professionally. The pain in your chest blossoms when you leave his house, pulsing and thumping in your heart as you make your way down the street, hands tight around the purse in your hands.
He didn't give you a chance to speak before he started breaking up with you. Didn't give you a moment to tell him why you called him to talk.
The pregnancy test in your purse is weighing you down, it feels like a massive weight on your shoulder and you can't take it, you rip it out of the bag and toss in into the first garbage bin you see.
"Tartt, the funniest thing just happened to me," Colin says, kicking his shoes off, "I've seen a boy that looks exactly like you."
"Okay, weirdo, been lookin' at kids lately, have ya?"
Jamie laughs as Colin hits him on the shoulder. "Shove off that, it wasn't weird, he was just outside with Will, and you guys looks identical, it was kinda freaky."
"Does Will have a kid?" Isaac asks, "I didn't know that."
"Oi Will!" Jamie shouts, calling Will over. He'd been walking passed the room at the perfect moment. "D'you have a kid we didn't know about?"
"No... I don't think so. Unless I dunno 'bout him either."
"Who was the little guy you were here with a minute ago then?" Colin asks. "I thought he looked exactly like Jamie."
"Oh, that kid, uh, yeah I don't know - just came up to me maybe or uh, I don't know."
"Y'all right, mate?" Isaac asked, eyes narrowing at the response, "that was a weird way to answer. You don't have to tell us but jeez mate, don't sound so suspicious."
"Suspicious...? Oh god, no," Will sighs, "he's my cousin's kid. She told me not to tell. She's just giving me a ride this week."
"Who's the dad, is it Jamie?" Colin asks, laughing, all the boys laugh except for Will, who looks oddly petrified.
"I should really get to work," he says, rushing out of the room. Isaac is the only one not laughing, Isaac is the only one who noticed that Will didn't actually deny it. And that Will seemed cagey over the question.
Isaac turns to his locker, it must be a coincidence, right? Or just Kitman being an idiot. He decides that it's probably just in his head, that he's making up a scenario that doesn't exist.
But the next morning, he just can't drop it. He waits until Will is being dropped off before he comes out of his car, Isaac is doing everything to act nonchalant. Grabbing his bag outta the boot like normal, waving politely to Will and the mysterious woman in the car, and then trying to peak at the situation.
Nothing seems weird at all, and he doesn't know why he's even doing this, until a little voice calls his name.
"C'mon bud, don't yell at strangers like that it's not nice, even if they're famous footballers," you're telling the kid, but Isaac sees an opportunity and he takes it, he comes over to the group of you.
The kid is still in the car, buckled into a booster seat, wiggling around trying to get out.
"Big sports guy?" Isaac asks after polite hellos are exchanged, when you tell him your name, he smiles kindly, then turns to your son.
"Yes, the greyhounds are his favourite team. Watches them on the telly all the time, isn't that right?"
"I saw you on the telly!" the kid says, continuing to wiggle. "Mum?" he whispers, "can you let me out?"
And you do, and Isaac can't stop staring. Because this kid is the spitting image of Jamie Tartt. Same goofy smile, same puppy dog eyes, Colin wasn't kidding, this kid looks just fuckin' like the prick.
"What's your name, mate?"
"James, and I'm five," he holds up five fingers, and beams up at Isaac.
"Oh, you're 5!? That means you're a big man, huh? The rest of the team should be gathering inside, if you've got time, I'm sure they'd love to meet the little fella."
"Mum!"
"I'm sorry baby, but you've got school! Maybe sometime soon we'll come by and Will can show you around the club, ya?" You frown as James sadly gets back into the seat, shoulders slumped as you buckle him back up.
And Isaac tries to let it go.
He really does.
But he cannot shake that uncanny resemblance to Jamie's smile. And for christ sakes, the kids name is James.
Isaac drops his bag, unable to stop the wheels turning in his head as he watches Jamie, and that stupid, similar grin... is it Jamie's brother? Does Jamie know he has a brother? Is it a weird doppleganger situation?
Colin waves a hand in front of Isaac's face to try to get his attention.
"Y'good mate? You haven't moved in like, five minutes."
"Yeah, yeah, I just ... Jamie?" Isaac asks, thoughts still miles away. "You ever meet Kitman's cousin?"
"How would I know?"
"Her name is uh... ah fuck she just said it, oh uhm," when Isaac says your name, Jamie's face goes pale. His blood turns to ice, and he doesn't say one word. "Mate?"
"She was here?" Jamie asks finally, his voice sounding smaller than ever, barely above a whisper. "It can't be her, I mean, what are the odds?"
"What are you talking about?"
"My first girlfriend, well the first real one anyway that was... tha' was 'er name."
Colin and Isaac share a look, but don't say anything. Jamie runs to the parking lot, ignoring Keeley and Roy who call out to him in the hallway, but when he gets to the parking lot, you're already gone. If it really was you, he's let you get away again. He's kicks at some rocks in frustration, and slams the door open on the way back in.
Jamie tries to catch sight of you every day for the night week. But you're never there, and Will is not being any help at all. Jamie's losing his fucking mind, thinking you're so close and you know he's there, but you don't want to see him.
And he knows he's being selfish, that if you don't want to see him then he shouldn't be trying to make it happen, but you're all he can think about. How did you turn out? Did you go to school for what you wanted? Did you fall in love again? Do you still listen to the soundtrack of your favourite movie while doing housework? Who did you become? Would you like Jamie now? Would you like the person he became?
It's plaguing his mind as he walks across the parking lot, how was your mum doing? She'd been sick when he broke it off, and he... he never checked in.
And then he sees you.
The air around him grows impossibly thick.
His stomach turns with nerves.
You're still there with Will, talking to Roy Kent of all people, and Jamie has turned to stone, staring at you as if he's seeing a ghost in real time.
Without any input from his brain, his legs start towards you, and they don't stop until he's right in front of you.
Jamie Tartt is standing in front of the first love of his life, and you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. You've always been beautiful to him. But it's like he's seeing you for the first time all over again, and his stomach turns into rock and drops into his abdomen and he feels sick.
"You look beautiful," Jamie says before anything else, and Roy turns his lip up in disgust.
"Why would you start with that?" Roy asks, and turns back to you, noting the way your face has gone pale. "Ah, well, I'll be inside. Tartt, ten minutes." Roy starts to walk away. "And bring the little guy around for a tour!"
"Jamie," you say, too stunned to comprehend what was happening. Of course you knew there was a good possibility of running into him here, maybe you wanted to get caught - not for you, but for your son, Jamie's son...
"What are you doing here? You're not... you're not here with Roy, are you?"
"Wha - Roy? No, I just met him." You look towards the car and back to Jamie, thinking about your options. But it all feels like too much. You feel your knees growing weak, and you're overwhelmed and... you have to get out of here. "I have to go, school starts soon and I-"
"Are you a teacher?"
"No, I just... I just have to drop off my son."
"You have a kid?" Jamie falters a bit. He's thought about you a lot, and never had that thought crossed his mind, it never... he didn't... It wasn't fair for him to feel jealous at the thought of you moving on, it was his fault it all got thrown in the rubbish, but he felt it anyway. Images of you walking into the house with your son on your hip, to a man that scoops the little guy up and swings him around. "Who's the uh, who's his dad?"
"Jamie, I really have to go."
"Wait, can we - could we get coffee sometime? Or something?" Jamie steps closer, but you step backwards, inching towards the door. "Or dinner, or drinks? Or anything?"
"Jamie - I don't... I don't know what we'd say, I mean, you were right we were just kids and..."
"No, I..." Jamie pauses, looking into the backseat of your car where you son was rolling a hot wheels along the side of his car seat. "Is that, how old is he? Who did you say his dad was?"
"I didn't," you say, unlocking the car and slipping into the seat. Jamie stops you from closing it, not by force, but he just holds the frame.
"And how old is he?"
"I'm five!" James shouts from the backseat. "I saw you on the telly too!"
Jamie doesn't say anything else, the thoughts in his mind running too fast for even him to follow. You grab his wrist, moving his arm back from the door, and close it.
Jamie doesn't fight, just watches you drive away - with a boy that looks exactly like him.
"Tartt! I said ten minutes!" Roy comes out shouting, but when he sees Jamie, he stops, eyes blinking in confusion. "What is your fucking problem?"
"Why was she here? D'you know?" Jamie asks, his voice is distant - close, but as if his thoughts were miles away.
"That's Kitman's cousin. Why? Did she reject you?" Roy asked, smirk threatening to pull at his lips, but Jamie still hasn't turned around, so nothing seems quite funny yet. "What is your problem, eh?"
"Roy," Jamie lifts his hand and then drops it. "I think I just met my son."
"Fucking pardon me?"
"You think he's yours?" Colin asks, "I was just joking when I said he looks like you, honest."
"He looks just like me," Jamie puts up one finger, "he's five years old, and I broke up with her just over five years ago - I checked," he puts another finger up, "she named him James."
"Yeah that's..." Isaac and Colin look at each other. "Yeah, likely yours then."
"Why wouldn't she tell me?" Jamie said. "I could've, I would've... sent her money at least."
Roy grunts from beside them. "No wonder she didn't fuckin' tell you. Find out you may have a kid and the first thing to think about it is fucking money."
"Well I just mean I could've helped support em!"
"Kids need their fucking... a waste of - argh!" Roy stand up, and points at Jamie. "Make it right!" He shouts, and Jamie leans away, resting against Isaac as Roy stares him down.
"She didn't even tell me so how's it my fuckin' fault!?"
"I can only imagine it..." Roy backs off, and quiets down, but his tone is sharp - angry and vulnerable from unresolved issues that Jamie didn't cause but was feeling the consequences of. "Eighteen year old Jamie dumps his girlfriend and moves on with models and actresses and is all over the news... my heart breaks for that fuckin' girl and you..." Roy points at Jamie. "Did she have... people?"
"Well," Jamie is scared to answer, "her dad was already gone and her mum was pretty sick..."
Colin and Isaac wince. Roy is breathing heavily, just staring.
"I fuckin' hate you so much."
You don't drive Will to the dog track anymore, but Jamie waits outside just in case.
Until he sees Will walk in, head down like he's sorry. Jamie then usually waits another ten minutes or so after that, just in case.
But today... today Will feels extra guilty, so as he's walking passed Jamie, he slips him a post-it note with an address on it. No words exchanged, but Jamie hugs him, then runs to his car.
He doesn't care that Roy will make him run laps until his feet are bleeding, Roy's been riding him all week anyway - he can't sleep, can't eat. All he can think about it is you and that little boy. He needs answers.
So here he is, knocking on the door like a madman, but once again not getting any answer. He was going to explode. He takes a seat on the step, head in his hands.
He tortures himself by imagining your life without him. He pictures you happy, dancing with some man in the kitchen, experiencing your sons childhood with someone tall dark and handsome who wasn't a fucking idiot. But then he pictures a sadder, harder reality, where you were alone. Mum and dad gone, no man, just a single mum trying to get by right out of highschool.
You pull into the driveway before his imagination starts playing that Sarah McLaughlin song, but he'll admit, that was probably close.
You don't startle when you see him sitting there, you knew it was only a matter of time until Will cracked, he was kind of... soft.
"Hello Jamie," you say, too casually, like you're passing by a coworker you see everyday.
"Where's the little guy?" Jamie asks, eyeing the empty car seat.
"He's got school Jamie, I imagine they're halfway through the ABCs right now."
"Right, yes... got it."
"Jamie..."
"Don't say my name like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're... dismissing me. I think I deserve some answers."
You look at him thoughtfully. "Why?"
"What?"
"Why do you deserve answers?"
"What the- what do you mean? I've got a son and you didn't bother to tell me!" Jamie doesn't raise his voice per se, but there's a tone that left friendly behind.
You sigh, "let's take this inside, I don't need the neighbours to know that my sons father was on some trashy tv show."
And shame washes over Jamie like a cold bucket of water, and you move around him like you didn't just flip his world on his head. James is his kid, he knew it, but now he knows it. And he's missed it. First steps, first word, first day of school. He's missed it all. Christmases, birthdays, all have been without his dad.
"Jamie?"
"Hmm?" He can't look up from this one spot of your lawn, he's glued to the spot.
"Are you coming?"
He pulls himself out of his trance and follows you in. It looks like his moms house. There are toys littered across the floor. Pictures of your son hanging off the walls, he notes there are no boyfriends or husbands, and he doesn't rejoice, but he takes note.
"Why'd you name him James?"
"I don't... I don't really know. It seemed right, at the time."
"Does it still seem right?"
You smile. "I couldn't imagine him being anything else but exactly as he is."
Jamie nods thoughtfully. "Can I meet him?"
"I don't want to confuse him."
Jamie takes that as a maybe. You haven't said no, but you have let Jamie in the door, so that has to mean something.
"How's your mum?"
"She died," you say, and Jamie's eyes widen, "died before James was born."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Jamie is trying to calm down, your mum had always been sweet to him. He'd always liked her.
"You were already gone, and you were so excited to start your life it was just... it was how it had to be Jamie."
"I would've gone to the funeral, I didn't know I had to say goodbye." Jamie feels sick. He's been living this life of over indulgences and girlfriends (who he's treated poorly) and parties... and you've had the weight of the world on your shoulders.
"You would've seen I was pregnant, then you would've had to deal with that, then you would've grown to resent me... Jamie please, I've thought out every scenario, this was the best for everyone."
Jamie shakes his head, his face twists up in pain. "It wasn't, I would've been a dad to him. I would've taken him to home games and taught him how to ride a bike..." Jamie's throat tightens at all he's missed. At the daddy issues he's caused simply by not being around.
"Parenting is not all football and giggles Jamie, it's messy. And it's exhausting. And it probably would've gotten in the way of your career, and I - I did a fucking bang up job. James is happy, and he's healthy. He's got friends. I check for monsters. I taught him how to ride a bike."
"He can ride a bike already?"
"Okay I taught him how to get on a tricycle, but I will teach him how to ride a bike."
"I can do that part," Jamie says, "Let me do it. And I can check for monsters. And I can teach him how to kick a ball. I can have your back when you're parenting and I can help him with his homework." Jamie sighs. "I didn't know, and I was such a wanker. And I'm not even asking for you to give me a chance as a boyfriend," he mumbles 'maybe later' under his breath and you laugh softly, shaking your head, "but give me a chance to be a dad, I swear, I'll be such a good co-parent, I swear."
"Why don't you come by for supper," you sigh, "not as a dad. But... you can get to know him a little. He can get to know you."
"I love supper," Jamie says, making his exit before you can change your mind.
Jamie doesn't go back to training. He gets a haircut. Showers, puts on some nice clothes - but not too nice.
He can't stop thinking about James.
Can't stop thinking about you.
He's been... a fool. Such a fool.
Breaking up with you had always felt kind of wrong. There was always a part of him that wondered about you, always a part that was so sure you'd find your way back to each other. Which, in hindsight, is shitty, when you're dating other people but it always felt... something was always wrong. And he knows what it is now, it was his family, getting by without him. While he looked for something akin to love in all the wrong places, there had been a home, made without him.
Jamie tries to keep himself together as he pulls up to your house. He can't believe you're letting him in for supper, can't believe this chance is happening.
He parks the car, takes a few deep breaths, and collects the flowers and the toy cars from the passenger seat.
There isn't a time Jamie can remember where his nerves were so shaken. The back of his knees are sweating, his heart is racing, and his fingers are going numb.
If you don't open the door soon, Jamie may have a heart attack on the porch. Then Roy will really kill him.
"Hello?"
A tiny voice calls Jamie's attention, and there he is, James, standing behind a screen door, looking up at Jamie with the same eyes that are looking down at him.
"Hey mate," Jamie says, voice cracking with nerves, "is your mum 'ere?"
"Come in, Jamie!" he hears you call from the kitchen.
And the nerves get worse, because you come out of the kitchen with a messy ponytail, apron on, pulling off oven mitts and Jamie's heart leaps and bounds like it just landed on the moon.
And he wants to cry.
Wants to cry and scream and sob because this could've been his.
He could've gotten out of training, picked up flowers and brought them home to his girl, and his son, and maybe a new baby too - and then joined his family for supper.
He didn't even know he wanted this.
Last week he would've laughed.
This week he feels like crying.
"You look beautiful," he says, in lieu of a greeting once again.
You laugh, "I do not and you are early."
Jamie's cheeks flush. "I know, I'm sorry, I would've called but I didn't get your number. I was too excited to wait."
"Are these for me?" James whispers, not quietly at all, eyeing the bag in Jamie's hand.
"James, that is not polite. You didn't even say hello."
James pouts. "I said hello! At the door."
"Yes, but when people come to see us we ask how they are, not what they've brought us. Like this, ready?" you walk over to Jamie and he can smell your shampoo, and it's the same as you always used and his brain misfires. "Thanks for coming Jamie, you look well, how are you?"
"Good, I'm good thanks." Jamie's knees feel weak, you're so close to him. He can see the colour of your eyes, he always thought they were so beautiful. He still does. "I brought these for you," he says, holding out the bouquet.
You hesitate, surprised Jamie remembered your favourite flower. And the right colour. "Thank you," you whisper, and your hands touch when you take them, electricity shooting up your arm, and you swallow, suddenly less sure of every decision you've ever made. Jamie was always so special to you. You always... saw him. You knew there was more to him than the cocky, pretty boy attitude he'd had in school. You were the one who saw him for him. A bitter reminder that that wasn't enough.
"And yes, these are for you." Jamie hands James the bag. "They were mine growing up, they were my favourite ones."
"Oh," James says, gingerly taking the bag, he looks up at you and his eyes widen, like he remembered something, then he says, "thank you!"
"You're welcome."
"Why don't you two go play while I finish cooking."
You retreat into the kitchen with the flowers, and have to set them down, to breath. You grip onto the ledge of the counter, taking a few deep breaths. Jamie is... he's always been what you wanted. You'd resolved to not let those feelings back in. But it's hard. When the first great love of your life is here, in your home, looking like being with you and James is exactly where he belongs.
You shake the feelings out, or try to, and move to get the flowers in a vase, getting them in the kitchen window for some sunlight.
A knock on the doorframe startles you, and Jamie is standing there, tail between his legs.
"D'you need any help in here?"
"No, no," you say, waving your hand, smiling and feigning nonchalance. "You go play with James, he'd be all too happy to show you his room if you ask. That's why you're here, right?"
You don't mean it to sound bitter, but Jamie flinches anyway.
"I'm here for you too, I've uh," Jamie's mouth goes dry, "I missed you."
"Jamie..."
"I know," he says, "I know I made a real mess of this one, but... I'm not going anywhere I'm going to, I'm going to fix it." Jamie doesn't carry any of his usual bravado. He doesn't act like it'll be easy, doesn't even seem sure of how he'll do it - but he will do it. And for whatever reason... you believe him. "I want to be a good..." Jamie looks over his shoulder at James, he doesn't want him to hear. "I want to be around, for both of you."
"I'm not going to stop you," you whisper, almost as if the words came out before you could stop them. "Being here for him, I mean. I'm not going to stand in the way - but we do it the right way, no confusing him and no changing your mind." You take a breath. "So we'll have supper, and then by the end of supper you have to decide if you're in it for keeps or not, because if not then I won't subject James to a distant father, better to have none at all."
Jamie's eyes widen, and he nods, unable to say anything. He's scared. He's so fucking scared to blow it.
And he doesn't have the right, he knows he doesn't have the right but he wants you too. He wants you both. He wants to pull you in for a kiss and hug you, rubbing your back until the worries melt away. And he wants to go into the living room and pick his little boy up, spinning him around until his tummy hurts from giggling.
He wants it all.
And he doesn't have the right to any of it, but he's going to earn it.
During supper, one that feels normal and comforting, Jamie fits right in around the table, listening to James tell a story about something that happened at recess. You and Jamie are laughing, and sharing knowing looks because damn this kid is a terrible story teller... and you and Jamie nod along and encourage him, and then when the story is over Jamie tells him without missing a beat, "Awh, mate, that's the best story I've heard all week - can't wait to tell the lads at the club," and your heart soars because... maybe Jamie could do this.
Maybe you could let him in.
But then after dinner, as Jamie is showing James how to flip cars off the back of the couch, Jamie's heart rate picks up - he just... can't stop thinking about missing five years of his son's life. That is time he can't get back.
"Can you give me a minute, bud? I'll be right back and we'll play so many race cars, a'right?" Jamie says, and excuses himself out of the room.
At first, you're angry. You've seen Jamie panic before, and this is it - you think this is where he says he changed his mind and he's out the door forever. Again.
James is none-the-wiser, flipping his hot wheels off the side of the couch. But you've seen Jamie fleeing, and this looks exactly like that. You follow him down the hall, and stop outside the bathroom he ducked into, ready to knock and give him a piece of your mind, when you hear soft sniffling on the other side of the door.
You knock, and the sniffling abruptly stops, and you hear rustling, and then Jamie opens the door, eyes still filled with tears.
"What's wrong?"
Jamie sighs, and lets you into the bathroom. He sits on the edge of the tub, and looks almost exactly like your son does when you're scolding him. Spittin' fuckin' image.
"He's just..." Jamie sighs again, "he's perfect. He's so perfect, and beautiful, and I've just missed so much. And it's my own fault, and I'll never be able to get any of it back, and I jus'... I'll regret it forever."
You sit beside him, putting an arm around him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder - because you understand. James is perfect. And beautiful. You both sit in the moment for a minute, until there's a tiny knock at the door.
"Mum! Do you think Jamie can stay and play Candy Land with us? I think he'll like it," James says through the door, and James looks to you, waiting for your okay, but all he can think about is how much he'd like to play Candy Land.
"Yeah, sure baby!" you say, kissing Jamie gently on the forehead, before walking to open the door and bring your son back to the living room while Jamie takes a minute to fix himself up. As you're walking away he hears you say, "I think Jamie had so much fun that he might come 'round more often for supper, and to play race cars with you, how does that sound?"
And his heart swells with joy when he hears his son, clapping and cheering at the idea of Jamie being around.
When he comes out of the bathroom, you and James are sitting on the living room floor, and you're setting up Candy Land while James sits patiently, legs tucked under him and hands in his lap.
James waves at him, you smile softly at him, and Jamie's heart starts beating for the people in this room.
Hi againnn, I’m the anon that asked about the Ai and writing. Thank you for your honest opinion and feedback! I really appreciate it and thanks for being so kind and understanding about it too (I can be kind of sensitive LOL). I also really appreciate you sharing your writing methods! I think I’m going to try and use some of the methods like writing everything that’s in my head and just try to organize from there. I think I’m also going to try and reach out to some writers/readers to look over my fanfics when I’m ready. Thank you again for everything and I hope you have a great day!!! :) <3
yes no problem pookie thank you sooo much for asking!!! i love talking about writing and fics and just about anything
and if you ever have anything you want to share i’d love to read your work, or talk out anything, i’ve had internet strangers help me and i’d be all too happy to pay it forward.
but yes just write whats in your head and go from there :-D
Hi this is pretty random but I was hoping to get your opinion as a writer (especially a Jamie Tartt x reader writer). I’m thinking/working on writing a Jamie Tartt x reader fanfic that follows the whole show but right know I only have a few random scenes in my head. This is where I was hoping to get your opinion/thoughts. I know that using AI to write fanfics is completely wrong, I have no objections here and strongly believe that. However I was wondering where the majority of people/writers stood on using AI to help me organize my thoughts and kinda put it on a timeline for me and tie them together a bit? Does that make me incredibly hypocritical if I use AI? I don’t want to use AI to help me if it’s disrespectful to writers and their process but I’m also sort of at a loss. I don’t really have anyone to help me with my writing (my friends and family don’t read or write fanfics or anything) and even if I did, I think I’d be too nervous to even show anyone. Which also brings me to another question, if I just write the fanfic for myself and not post/share it, does that make using the AI better or worse? Does it even make a difference? Because I’m still not sure if I even want to share my fanfic if I do end up writing it. (I’m pretty shy and mildly a coward if you couldn’t tell from me being on anon lol) Sorry for the super long message and if you don’t want to answer that’s completely understandable, you can just ignore this (love your writing btw <3)
heyyyy pookie!
i'm happy to answer your question - i love questions, BE CURIOUS! not judgemental.
i am i fear, down to my core, and AI hater. I don't use it for anything, I think that people in school or in their careers using it to organize their thoughts are on a bad path - and i know it can be hard to organize your thoughts and make the timeline fit quite right, i struggle with it, all the time.
in the kent!reader x jamie tartt series, i still find the odd plothole, or timing that doesn't really sense, but it's more of a fun series and not something i take too seriously, so it's okay. but i think that pushing through, and learning how to do it, learning how it works for you, is worth the time and worth the effort, because if one day you go from writing fanfics to writing books, i don't think you'd want AI anywhere near that. your work is worth the struggle of learning how to do it.
AI could be a helpful tool, i understand that as well - but aside from my general lake of liking it, it is ruining the planet faster than we can even comprehend. people have no drinking water. we start making strides in banning plastics - and now people dont have clean water anymore, so they have to buy their water again. this is increasing pollution, microplastics.
i wrote a fanfiction the same way years ago, it went episode by episode for the show Misfits; for Nathan Young, and i had the same thing, i had a few scenes in my head and that was it.
and i'd be happy to share my method with you.
i had the scenes in my head, and i started typing them out. i didn't worry about where it would fit in the story yet, i just worried about my scene. not the past, not the future, just the scene i was in. i put them all in the same doc divided by some cute line break off the internet. if i knew around what episode it took place i would throw that in there too.
so for example;
JAMIE TARTT FANFIC;
jamie tartt first kiss w kent!reader (between s1 ep 4 & s1 ep6)
You'd yanked him by the collar of his hoodie, pulling him into you, shutting him up by placing your mouth on his.
and i would reread that shit like it was my JOB so i knew what was there. the first few scenes that pop into your head are what started the love of your story, so go back to them, read them, remind yourself why you're here.
THEN when i was ready to get to business, i put pen to paper. boot to the ground. I'd literally write a few sentences about each episode of the show, like this (below) i'd read the wikipedia for fandom pages for it and go ep to ep also filling in where i think reader would go (mostly suggestion and very much up to change)
S1EP1; ted lasso comes to start coaching the greyhounds. he seems naive but has a good heart. jamie tartt is a arrogant prick, roy kent is angry blah blah blah. reader meets jamie while he's leaving the club, she meets keeley and they seem to hit it off, jamie she doesn't care for.
S1EP2; ted is trying to bond with the team - he throws a party for sam, chats to keeley. reader is close friends with sam, so ted invited her and she feels... etc etc
and then write.
and maybe find a beta reader. it can be terrifying to show your work, but find someone online. someone who doesnt know you and you dont know them. tell them you are interested in constructive criticism & suggestions, human editing makes for better writing. because human editors, have things to teach you whether they are writers or not. because people have skills and things to teach you.
ai regurgitates things humans have said to it.
people have things to teach you.
ai removes the problem solving.
problem solving is a good chunk of writing.
so start with the basics - where did your MC meet love interest? how did they meet? did they meet in episode 1? 2? do you want to write a slow burn? or steamy, love at first sight? when did they go on a date? season 1? season 2?
you don't have to have it all figured out when you start writing. ballpark a few milestones and let the story work itself out.
maybe you'll write a whole episode worth and decide you want to save some of those ideas for a later episode - put it aside and rework it. change some stuff and make it a oneshot, or an alternate version, or just delete it.
so short answer; i dont believe ai has a place in writing.
long answer; see above + pen to paper pookie, we are all capable of figuring it out. <3
it actually makes me feel clinically insane when a characters name is the name of the show because then in the tags i gotta pull this shit like; ted lasso (character) imagine and you know what. its annoying
I don’t think you’ll ever realize how beloved your kent!reader series is. Like, I go back and reread one of your fics from it AT LEAST once per day.
I’m absolutely obsessed and that’s all because of you and your phenomenal talent. I hope you realize that and thank you for putting your heart and soul into your writing ❤️❤️❤️
AHHHHH my sweet enchantedreader!!!!
i'm always so keen to read your replies & reblogs and you are always so so nice about everything, thank you so much. jamie tartt x kent!reader is so genuinely important to me, and i love sharing it. i have so so so so many started chapters, i need to do some clean up in the drafts - but no that its not over!!
decided that i think the next released fic should be when they first met. a clear beginning - bc we KNOW that jamie fell first and so insanely hard he was pathetic from day one
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