You whined, putting on the best smile you could muster as Jamie gently brushed your hair behind your ear, his cock stretching your mouth open trying its hardest to take him deeper.
“You’re doing so good darling.” He murmured, his words reassuring as your cheeks hallowed around his length. The sloppy wet noises of your spit fill the room as you suck him off.
“Slow baby. We’re in no rush,” Jamie whispered staring down at you. his pupils blown out as he bites back the groans threatening to spill from his throat. His fingers tightening in your hair as your strands bunched between them.
You looked up at him as he pulled you off, your face showing confusion, breathing unsteady, until he stuck his tongue out, signaling for you to mimic him.
Your tongue fell from your mouth, your nose running as spit dribbled down your chin.
His tip feeling like second nature as it tapped against your taste buds before settling deeper. You gagged, your eyes squeezing shut before you hear a calm “Relax sweetheart,” and a sigh as your throat opened.
Your legs squeezed together, cunt clenching as your husband had his way with your throat. His whimpers egging you on, wanting nothing more than to please him in any way he desired.
His hand raised before landing a harsh slap on your delicate skin, forcing a moan and choke out of you. The action repeating a couple of more times before you heard his voice.
“You’re so beautiful like this y/n…so beautiful with your mouth full of my cock.” His words were slow and meaningful, full of warmth as he admired you with nothing but affection in his eyes.
You whimpered, wanting to tell him how much you loved him before hearing a loud moan break from his chest. Your face shoved in front of his pelvis, his scent suffocating, as you felt his hot seed force its way down your throat.
He loosened his grip on your hair, allowing you to pull away from his cock as you coughed, your throat burning as you swallowed the rest of his seed.
You and Jamie’s ragged breaths filled the room as he gently eased two of his fingers into your mouth, nudging you to open wide before pressing them into the back of your throat, making sure you swallowed everything.
“Very good, baby. My sweet wife did so good for me.” His sweaty blonde hair mingled with yours as he kissed your forehead. You nodded, giving him a hazy smile, your throat burning as you watched him pull his pants up, patting your head before leaving your shared bedroom.
You lay back on the bed, exhausted and wanting nothing more than to crawl into your husband’s arms before a glass of water was shoved in your face.
You drank greedily, the water feeling like a breath of fresh air as you felt Jamie crawl into bed beside you, draping his arms over you as he pressed gentle kisses against your skin.
“I love you, Jamie,” You finally whispered. “I love you too darling, and your sweet mouth.” You both chuckled before you turned into his chest, his steady heartbeat the last thing you hear before closing your eyes.
ITS FINALLY FRIDAY!!!!! I mean at least where I'm from🥺 I can now request something from my beloved valorant x reader writer❤️🩹
since it's still kinda a chilly weather here, ts gonna be cozyyyyy
may I request headcanon/mini fic for chamber, phoenix, sova, and yoru about what they would do if they had a partner that absolutely DESPISES cold weather, like they'll shiver at the slightest blow of wind, and to the point that even no air comes their way, they would still complain that its too cold.
I'm so excited to see how this turns out, especially since I've been thinking about this all week. Picked chamber cuz since hes my number one, yoru and sova specifically cuz they are tied to something cold, and phoenix with his radiant power warming up the reader ykyk.
THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUU
A Little Chill <headcanons + mini-fic>
Ft. Chamber, Phoenix, Yoru, Sova
As of receiving your request, it's Friday for me too! Got it at just about 1am (4am as of posting, whoops). It's quite cold for me as well, (and it's a little embarrassing to admit) but I shiver when it's anywhere below 60°f, even when that's the average temp other than during the summer.
I do not consent to my work being used for anything, especially involving any sort of AI. No chat bots, or writing scraps. I only post on Tumblr (subject to change, I will say if it does)
Chamber
⭑.ᐟ Vincent is.. wealthy, man. He knows comfort like no one else, so it's safe to say he moves around like a goose depending on the weather. And why should he exclude you from his activities?
⭑.ᐟ Of course, there are times when that just isn't possible, especially if it's on a mission (should you also be an agent), so he does what he can. Don't worry about the heating bills, you put that thermostat to whatever temperature you want and he'll pay it for you.
⭑.ᐟ Clothes are of no concern, as he's already ordered top tier jackets and mittens in just the right size. They're warm and soft, but not puffy (unless that's your thing) so they don't restrict movement. Oh, and he obviously makes sure to spray them with his cologne for you, unprompted, it's his favorite thing to do.
⭑.ᐟ And don't think just because your home is warm that he won't cuddle up to you. He absolutely still uses the excuse of it being cold outside to cuddle in bed, even if the thermostat is up high and you've got a bunch of blankets. Nothing is better than your boyfriend to keep you warm, yes?
ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Vincent, please!" You cry out, pressing a hand to his face and trying to push him away, but he refuses and pushes against your hand. His arms are wrapped tightly around your waist, and the blankets you've got wrapped around yourself.
"But mon amour! I am freezing." He whines, faking a shiver to try and dig home his statement. You know he's lying, but he looks so pitiful like that.
"And I'm starting to get warm!" Your hand moves down to his shoulder to try and push more effectively, but it's helpless. "Too warm for cuddles!"
"Impossible! You must hate me!" The dumb smile he's got on his face tells you he isn't serious. "If you are warm then please! Give me some, I beg my dear."
It's best to give in, he won't relent until you do. You'll be stuck
Phoenix
⭑.ᐟ The teasing is relentless, what else did you expect? He's pressing his hand against you and pulling back as soon as you get comfortable with the warmth. Watching as you complain with an evil giggle.
⭑.ᐟ Obviously, he doesn't spend the entire time messing with you. Jamie is a kind soul, so he claims! Of course he's giving you his jacket when he sees you shiver. His warm temps seep into the jacket and stay for quite a while.
⭑.ᐟ Should you remain cold, he's more than happy to wrap his arms around you and warm himself up a bit for you. No matter the situation, he'll drop everything to get you in his arms the second your teeth start to clatter together.
⭑.ᐟ Believe it or not, he is a master at making hot chocolate. His mom's taught him as a kid, and he'd always made it for his sister. If you're somewhere with a kitchen he'll whip you up some, all the whipped cream you want.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Jamie, it's so cold out here..." You groan, standing at the bus stop with your arms crossed. He's absolutely chilling while you're about to freeze.
"Please, it's not even that bad." He mutters, typing away on his phone. The nonchalance he had was making you frustrated.
"No, it is! I feel like I'm going to turn into a Popsicle..." As if on queue, your body does a drastic shake in an attempt to generate body warmth.
His phone is turned off and pushed into his pant pocket, focusing his attention on you. Okay, maybe it is a bit cold. Quick to fix his mistakes he takes off his jacket and settles it on your shoulders.
The warmth is quick to come, and your body does that thing where it feels really hot when it's also really cold, like a burning sensation. The satisfied sigh you let out puts a smile on his face.
"Prince charming has saved the day once again." He praises himself, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you in. He lets the scoff you make go ignored.
Yoru
⭑.ᐟ Surprisingly, Ryo doesn't tease as much as you'd think. Not even when you shiver from a slight breeze. Maybe a little smirk and chuckle, but no words about how you can't handle it.
⭑.ᐟ He's pretty used to the cold, but obviously not immune. Even if he's cold, he'll give you his jacket and then wrap himself around you for extra warmth. Definitely the type of guy to make a comment about you two acting like penguins.
⭑.ᐟ Absolutely a sucker for hand holding. He'll use the cold as an excuse to hold your hands, and you best believe he won't let go, even when you're inside and warm. Hands stay together, and when you try to pull away he gives you the most devious side eye.
⭑.ᐟ In all honesty, he's rather stay inside with you instead of being in the cold, but he also enjoys going out. Solution? Well, there isn't really one, but he tries his best. Hand warmers are microwaved before leaving, he'll buy you a hot drink to hold, he's bought you a nice scarf to wear, and he'll give you any jacket you want from his closet.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 You stand at the lamp post as you watch him from a short distance. Ryo is at a coffee cart ordering a warm cider for you, and you got too cold to follow him. Surprisingly the wait isn't too long, and he's quick to return with a steaming cup.
"Here." He mutters, taking your hand to hold the cup.
The second your hand touches the cup you're sighing in relief, putting your other hand on it by yourself and relishing in the warmth. He cups your hands in his to keep the back of them cold, and you just stand like that for a moment.
"Better?" He asks after awhile, looking over your face for confirmation.
"Much better, thank you Ryo." You smile at him, finally taking a sip of the drink. Its warmth seeps down into your body, and you're letting out a content breath of air.
When you try to pull away, he doesn't let go of your hands. It takes him a moment, to do so, and when he does he's quick to wrap his arm around your shoulders to keep you close. Not that you're complaining.
Sova
⭑.ᐟ Definitely the best at handling the cold, seeing as he grew up in it. The most ideal solution is to just keep you in the bedroom, surrounded by his blankets and jackets, but that can't always happen.
⭑.ᐟ He knows all the best places to get warm clothes, and has gotten you multiple of each article so you can stay warm no matter what. He's also definitely hand made you some mittens, don't ask when, he has his ways.
⭑.ᐟ Using the fur on his cape to keep warm isn't efficient, but you're close enough to where his body heat radiates off onto you, so it works out. He really enjoys when you bury your face into it with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, but he won't tell you that himself. The way his shoulders relax gives him away though.
⭑.ᐟ Warm food champion. He knows every recipe possible for foods that warm you up quickly. Drinks as well. His soups are to die for, and he'll make any type you want upon request. Traditional Russian food or not, he'll make it for you so long as it comes out steaming for you.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 "For you." Sasha sets down a bowl of steaming hot stew in front of you with an affectionate smile. It looks delicious, with large chunks of potatoes and meat you just know is tender as hell.
"Thank you Sasha, I really appreciate it." You smile back at him, waiting for him to sit next to you before you take a spoonful to eat.
When you do you almost cry. It's so warm, and the flavors are amazing. No matter how many times you eat his cooking, it always has the same affect on you.
"So good." You mutter, leaning down to have more. He watches with love as you do so. To know you love his cooking like this makes him very happy.
When you finish, it's with a satisfied sigh. Your body now nice and warm, with your lovely boyfriend next to you. Could life get any better? Yes, it can.
You wrap your arms around him, leaning into his side while he slowly eats his own bowl of stew. His free arm wraps around you and rubs at your back as he eats little by little. This is the best time of year, not due to the weather, but because of how comforting it is to be with him.
Write A Kiss Request: Jamie Tartt (Ted Lasso) x Reader ...a kiss for luck
(prompt list here) & 2025 Request List - requests open
...a kiss for luck for Jamie Tartt
It hadn't been easy for Jamie to return to Richmond. He'd lost the prestige that came from playing for Manchester, the attention that came from being a reality TV star, and the joy that came from walking into the locker room before training. Where once he used to feel sheer confidence the moment he returned to within touching distance of his locker, now he found himself shrinking away from disdainful glances and feeling like nothing he did would be good enough to prove himself.
He hadn't even wanted to leave Richmond; a fact only he, Ted and you really knew. He had wanted to stay and help the team. And he really hadn't wanted to be the one to set up the goal against them that would lead to relegation. He wanted to be a part of your little strange, shared family. More than he could take it sometimes.
The training leading up to today's match had been hard. He'd spent weeks watching as wary teammates thought twice about even passing the ball his way, fearing in a real game he might as well be invisible for all the trust he'd earned. Honestly he'd have thought about leaving Richmond again if he had anywhere else to go. And if anywhere else had you.
It was tiring being the sole shoulder for Jamie's troubles to rest upon as he returned to your club over the last few weeks, providing much needed support for his aching soul. You'd given plenty of pep talks over your time at the club, but one look in Jamie's sorrowful eyes and you knew there was no easy fix to the wounds inside him. Only an enduring friendship could give Jamie the unconditional support he wasn't going to get anywhere in his life.
Jamie appreciated every second of your sweet support, the true friend he'd found in you was the one thing keeping his head above water as the rest of his life spiralled around him. But it wasn't always easy to be your friend when you smiled at him the way you did and made him feel like he was made of sunshine. And it wasn't easy when you put a hand on his and said exactly what he needed to hear until it felt like each fractured piece of his heart was fixing itself back together from your touch. And it was actually really hard to be your friend when you threw your arms around him and enveloped him in warmth, leaning close enough that he had to use every ounce of self-control not to lean down and capture your lips in one easy movement. He thought of it often, what it would be like to finally share those feelings with you, what it might be like to feel you press your lips against his and once again be the best person in his life at accepting him for not only who he is, but who he could be.
In fact that's exactly what Jamie was thinking about as you found him pacing in circles in the boot room before his match that day. The pressure of the game and his team was getting to him, finding himself unwilling to enter that locker room of resentment and instead opting for the safety of thinking about you away from such prying eyes.
"Jamie?" you almost whispered as you entered the room, approaching your friend like a startled deer you didn't want to drive further away. Ted had knowingly sent you after his missing player, sure if anyone could calm his nerves and rally his confidence, it was you. Jamie could never quite resist how softly you would say his name, a far cry from the way it had been bellowed across rooms and fields his whole life.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" He replied equally softly, suddenly feeling guilty for dragging you away from the rest of the team and giving them another thing to judge him for. Sensing his anxiety was only rising, you took a slow step towards him, settling one outstretched hand onto his shoulder and watching as it gradually started to ease away from his ear and back to its normal position.
"You weren't in the locker room so I just came to wish you luck before the game." His eyes were wide and glistening as he looked along the arm that connected you both, finally settling his gaze on you as he let out a hollow laugh.
"I don't need luck, love, I need a miracle. And for about twenty of the boys to suddenly forgive me for years of being a prick." He smirked as his spoke, but it had none of his usual confidence behind it, more cynical and jaded than you liked to see him. You tried to think of what Ted would say, dressing it up with your own affections for the misguided sportsman.
"Well I don't have any miracles for you, but the good news is there's an easy way to get the forgiveness of your team. You could earn it? By getting back in there despite the dirty looks. By showing them that you're not that prick anymore, or at least not all the time." You got a small smile for that comment and used the momentary letting down of his guide to wrap your free arm around him, pulling him closer. "You can prove their doubts wrong, and show them the thoughtful team player I know you can be. Even if you're secretly still the best footballer out there." Jamie let out a cocky laugh as he drank in your cheeky grin, not even bothering to hide the way his eyes fixated on your lips as you smiled.
"Thank you. For everything. I mean it." The fractured sentence seemed to fight its way from his lips, like it masked a thousand words he was holding back for fear of overstepping. His arms hung limply by his sides, unsure if they should respond to your warm touch and if they could ever let you go once they did.
"Can I wish you luck now?" His brow furrowed as you spoke, trying to work out what ploy was hiding behind the mischievous smile you were now sporting.
"Yeah, alright." He replied suspiciously, not expecting you to grip tighter on his shoulders as you leaned in close enough to press your lips quickly against his. It was short and sweet, just a moment of affection that somehow took every bit of air out of Jamie's lungs.
"Come on Tartt, you've got to get back to your team. And then you've got a game to win." His hand reached after you as you sprinted for the door and slipped out of reach, not giving him a moment to react until finally you heard him call after you,
Never (say goodbye) | Jamie x Reader | 28 Years Later | M | 2.5k
28 Years Later | 2.5k | Jamie x Reader
28 Years masterlist | Aaron Taylor Johnson character masterlist | AO3: Otaku_girl
Summary: A simple misstep leaves you injured on the mainland. With high tide rapidly approaching, Jamie refuses to leave your side.
Warnings: Potential spoilers for the film. Canon-level peril/fear.
A/N: New blorbo unlocked.
Links: Never (say goodbye) - AO3
Never (say goodbye)
“I’m so sorry.”
There isn’t time for mourning. It doesn’t matter that he has known you since you were both children. That you can still remember what things were like before. Before the outbreak. Before new rules. Before new ways of dying. Before the world went to shit. Before he was someone else’s and no longer yours.
You can see movement out of the corner of your eye as he scrambles down after you, bow still in hand, dark curls flying. The second he’s on his feet his bow is up and at full draw and he is moving, moving, moving.
“Don’t you dare,” you hiss, clutching at your ankle as he draws closer. You know you haven’t been bitten, that not a single drop of blood has gotten into you. It has been minutes, not seconds, and all you feel is weary acceptance. You both know what must happen now. You know that there is no coming back from this.
“Fuck.”
There are rules. Rules that everyone in your little community knows. Once you leave the island, no one is coming to save you. Each time you step past those gates and off onto the causeway, you know the risk you are taking. There are no rescues; it’s something everyone has learned the hard way. If you leave, you may never return. You knew the risks and now you will reap what you have sewn.
It doesn’t make it any easier as you stare down at your clearly broken ankle, miles from the causeway. Miles from safety, and with high tide only an hour away, maybe a little longer if you are lucky. Not that it matters; The moment you fell, the second you felt that embankment give out from under you, you knew what the outcome would be.
At least it wasn’t one of the infected, you think, swallowing back tears of pain and anger and fear. Christ, if a crawler took me out I would never live it down. At least this way, I can still choose to go out on my own terms.
“There’s nothing here, Jamie. It was just shitty luck. There’s no need to apologise; I know how this needs to end.” You wipe at your eyes with the heel of your hand, trying to hide how badly they are shaking. He isn’t even looking at you, still circling, still keeping watch for you both. It’s sweet, but stupid. He doesn’t have time for this.
“We all know the score. Get going. You still have time to find something worthwhile on your way back if you move quickly. Tell…” you trail off. There’s no one left to ask him to tell. Jamie’s all you have left. You hope he will move on, that he’ll find someone new he can settle down with. Someone else he can make happy. Being a widower twice over at his age won’t be easy, but what in this life is?
We may fall, but go on we must.
Your bow and arrows are long since gone, lost in your tumble. You squint, looking for them; anything to help speed up Jamie’s departure. Nobody can afford to leave weapons behind out here on the mainland. Your hand falls to your waist, to the knife that is still in your pocket. You should give it to him; it will be wasted on you soon enough. But, it would be easier than the alternatives. Jamie can forgive you for one last selfish act, can’t he? Even if you can’t forgive yourself. Will it be sharp enough to do the job? You aren’t certain, but you intend to find out. As soon as he’s gone.
Can I afford one more sunset? You rest your hand on the hilt, roughened fingertips running along the smooth wood.. Your hair hangs around your face in a limp curtain, obscuring the world from your view. Just a few more minutes. Just until I’m sure that he’s gone. Until I know that he won’t see.
Wind rustles through the trees, the faint sound of birdsong letting you know that, for now, there are no infected nearby. For now, you aren’t safe — nobody is safe — but you should have a little more time. You glance up, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Jamie as he leaves. There’s no point in prolonged goodbyes. The moment you tripped, the moment that you fell, he should have separated you out in his mind; you are part of his past now.
I should have listened to Jamie. I should never have come out here. It’s a fleeting thought and a ridiculous one. You could never have lived with yourself if you had left Jamie to come out here on his own, day after day, year after year. Now, you will have to pay the price.
Slowly, you look up through lowered lashes; you aren’t sure your heart can take it if he’s already passed over that ridge. If he’s already gone. Your heart stutters in your chest. Familiar boots stand less than a foot away. You sit back, eyes wide. His bow is no longer notched. Fury and fear and relief overwhelm you, choking you.
“You need to leave.” The words come out wobbly, your voice cracking. If he stays any longer, you are going to break. You are going to break, and you are going to beg for something that you have no right to ask for. And that? You can’t do that to him. That can’t be the last memory you leave him with. “What are you waiting for? Go!”
He has your bow slung over his shoulder alongside his, more arrows in his quiver than he had minutes earlier. He doesn’t say a word as he crouches beside you, taking in your ankle, a mess of blood and bone. He reaches for your neck and you think, for one blissful, calming moment, that he has found the strength to do it. To do what you know he would want done for him in return. Your eyes slide closed; if Jamie can give you this gift, you won’t force him to watch the life fade from your eyes.
Thick fingers tug the scarf from around your neck, snatching it away before you can open your eyes again. Between one breath and the next he shoves something between your teeth — the hilt of his knife — and then hands are on your ankle, forcing it straight, turning your vision white. You don’t make a sound; you can’t breathe, the pain overwhelming your senses, your world narrowing down to the white hot heat radiating out from your ankle. It hurts. It hurts so terribly, you aren’t sure how you are still conscious.
An eternity passes.
A whimper leaves your lips as the pain finally begins to fade. You aren’t sprawled on the grass anymore. Dark, lank hair brushes your cheeks. You’re bouncing. Why is the world moving? You force your eyes open. You’re in Jamie’s arms in a bridal carry, your cheek pressed against the dirty, faded red-pink fabric of his jacket as he runs.
The knife is no longer between your teeth but you wish that it was. You can’t hold back the little pained whimpers and gasps now that you have given them voice. You are going to give away your position if Jamie doesn’t do it first.
“What are you doing? You can’t protect yourself and hold me,” you say, gritting your teeth through the pain. Your hand spasms around his jacket, clutching it tightly between trembling fingers. He is going to get himself killed. “You can’t do this. You know the rules. You know—”
“I’m not losing you.”
“You already lost me. It’s already too late.” Breath hitching, a sob escapes from between your lips. You slap at his chest weakly, fingers curling into fists. His grip only serves to tighten. “Put me down, Jamie. I won’t take you with me. I won’t. You need to—”
“Either we both make it back home, or we spend our last moments together.” Arms — already so tight, so strong, so resilient — tighten further, shaking you as he forces you to meet his gaze. “I am not leaving you behind.”
The trees are beginning to thin. Water rushes somewhere nearby; you’re headed inland, not towards the shore. What is he thinking? He’ll miss low tide at this rate. Not that he has a hope in hell of making it while he’s carrying you, but without you? He still stands a chance.
“Think. You aren’t thinking clearly. You can’t make it back in time with me. I am slowing you down. I will get you killed. You have to—“
Sharp eyes flick towards you. It’s no more than a second that he holds your gaze, but it says everything that needs to be said. Your heart aches. He won’t be going back without you, no matter how much you try and reason with him.
You bite your lip, tears finally slipping free — not for yourself, but for him. “Stupid, stubborn, ridiculous man.”
“Aye, reckon I am. It’s one of the things you love about me.” His arms tighten around you. He’s moving with purpose. Not, you realise, panicking in his rush to put distance between you and the sight of your accident; the scent of fresh blood combined with the sound will have attracted more of them, and knowing your luck? It won’t be just the crawlers. No; he’s moving south, further inland. It doesn’t make any sense. Unless…
“No. It’s not safe to try the cottage. It’s half fallen down and we don’t have the supplies to make it anywhere near secure.” Desperation bleeds into your words, even as you are careful to keep your voice low. “Jamie, please… please. It’s time to let me go. Even if by some miracle we make it through the night, then what? My ankle isn’t going to be fixed by low tide. We will be sitting ducks trying to make it back to the shore.”
Jamie’s pace slows as you approach the edge of the treeline, the forest giving way to less familiar ground. You haven’t been out here anywhere near as much as he has. You know how much it worries him when you leave the island. You’re starting to think that he might have been right.
“Let me worry about that. When have I ever let you down? I’m going to get us home.” He adjusts his grip on you, and your arm goes around his neck instinctively. His face softens as he looks down at you, determination still shining clearly beneath it all. A broad hand comes up to cup your cheek, drawing your lips towards his. You’re not the only one with tears in your eyes as Jamie presses his forehead to yours and says, “Together, or not at all.”
Your ankle is screaming at you. It’s not far, you know, and Jamie is the one carrying you still, hauling you across miles upon miles without pause, without break. It jolts painfully as he runs; you don’t dare bite down on your lip to stifle the noise, lest you bite straight through it.
You take a steadying breath. I can’t let him do this. It is sweet, that he would be this devoted to you. But sweet won’t keep him safe and alive. I have to keep trying. For Jamie.
“Jamie. Love. I know we haven’t had as long together as we hoped, but… you have to learn to let go. I’d rather die knowing that you’re safe—“
“And I’d rather you not die at all! So, for god's sake, let me do this. Not for you. For me.”
Your heart aches. He has already lost so much. An islander born and bred, you know that their community lost so many in those first months. Nothing compared to the mainlanders; you remember fleeing, snatches of bloodstained memories that still haunt your dreams.
You remember your father falling before you reached Newcastle. Your Mam made it as far as Fenwick. It was a miracle you had made it as far as the causeway by yourself; you hadn’t even known what you were looking for, not really. You were just lucky that it was back in the days before new rules came into place. Before outsiders were no longer welcomed with open arms, and rescues were still possible.
You don’t remember much of those first months, those first years, living on the island. But you do remember him. The boy — not quite a teen, nowhere near a man — with the weary blue eyes and a soft smile for anyone who looked his way. You had thought, for a time… but then Jame and Isla had become Jamie & Isla, and you were no more than an afterthought.
It wasn’t as if there was an abundance of partners for you to choose from. You had told yourself you could be content to be alone. Had convinced yourself of it even, as you had moved from adolescence to adulthood, unable to help yourself as you had watched Jamie from the shadows.
Isla’s illness had been a blessing, and a curse. You had seen first-hand how it had devastated Jamie as she deteriorated. You had found yourself thinking thoughts no good person should have. He deserved better. He deserved to be free.
I always knew he was too good to be mine. What more proof could I need?
“You would find somebody else,” you murmur, your words almost too low to hear.
“There’s nobody else for me.”
You choke back the words threatening to spill from your mouth. He had thought that once before, hadn’t he? Had made promises to Isla he had made to no one else. Yet here you are, in his arms. He has done it once; he can do it again.
Blue eyes cut through you. You know if you turned now, you could see the cottage in the distance, half crumbling and with half a dozen outbuildings, each less stable than the last. He comes to a halt by the tree line, gently lowering you to your feet. You cling to his neck, your body unwilling to let go even as your mind protests. He slings one of the bows from his shoulder, pushing it and a handful of arrows into your limp grasp. You are careful not to allow your right foot to touch the ground.
“I love you.” He cups your cheek, pressing your foreheads together. Silent tears fall down your cheeks. There’s no point in warning you to run if you hear something, to leave if he isn’t out within a set time. You both know that if anything happens to him, it will be only minutes before the same happens to you. There will be no running.
“I’ll come back for you.”
You watch as he moves on silent feet, making his way to the cottage and the darkness beyond. Your heart clenches, yet you feel nothing but a sense of calm. No matter how much time you have left, at least you know that you will spend it together. He may not have said the words to you yet, but you can still hear them in every glance, in every move, in every action.
Summary: After some drinks, jealousy, and peer-pressure, you somehow convince Jamie to let you come with him to the mainland.
Genre: hurt and comfort
Warnings: post-apocalypse, set years before the movie, non-canon based, Jamie and reader are in their late twenties, hunting, near death experience, injury, jealousy, protective!Jamie, reckless behavior by reader :/
~ this is SO shit, but i still needed to write it ~
One hour in and you're starting to feel the whiskey kicking in. Your limbs feel lighter and your smile brightens as the music seems to become a thousand times louder, and the salty pretzels you've been snacking on start tasting less bland. Perhaps Jamie has a point—you really can't hold your liquor. You turn your head, his laughter catching your attention. He's in the middle of another one of his stories, his smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes as he prepares to drive the ending home.
"And then, I pulled my arm back," he gestures, exaggerating, and pretends to throw the arrow at one of your friends, "and I hit the motherfucker square in its eye socket. And downnnn he goes, dead."
You zone out again, having heard a different variant of the same story countless times before, and focus on the pretzel in your hand. You hesitantly lick the salt and grimace. It tastes funny now.
"You're truly amazing," Isla, the tall blonde Jamie's been hanging around with lately, smiles. She leans in and touches his arm, causing his grin to widen. Your attention is snapped back to the group.
"I've never seen anyone so willing to put himself in danger like you do. We're real lucky to have you," she continues, leaning in closer.
Your eyebrows crease. She's flirting with him. An uneasy feeling stirs in your stomach.
"Yeah, real brave—" you mutter, slurring your words. The group falls silent at your comment, and everyone's eyes land on you. Jamie looks the most offended, and he swings his muscular arm around you, pulling you into his side roughly.
"What's that supposed to mean, Worm?" he asks, using the nickname he's been using since you were children, and warmth spreads across your cheeks. You elbow him in the ribs, earning a chuckle from him as you force some distance between yourselves. You glare at him.
"How bad can the mainland really be?" you ask drunkenly, and everyone, especially Jamie, looks at you like you've lost your damn mind. Jamie's large, calloused hand presses against your forehead as he steps closer, and he shakes his head.
"You're burning up."
"If it's nothing," Tommy, another one of your friends, pipes up, "why don't ya go out onto the mainland?" Drunken laughter and nods follow.
"Aye, shut your mouth," Jamie snaps.
You stagger in his arms, now glaring at Tommy as you point at him. "I think I just might!"
"Shut up," Jamie holds you back, now sounding more annoyed. "You won't, Worm." He turns to Tommy, his gaze hardened. "She's a teacher, not a damn hunter. Leave 'er alone."
"Yeah, don't be a cunt," Isla adds, also glaring at Tommy. Childishly, it only makes you more upset because she's defending you.
"I can do it," you mutter. Jamie shakes his head, smiling a little, and he keeps you still.
"Nah. Don't be a fool. You stay where it's safe, ya hear me?"
"I know how to defend myself," you groan, hating how everyone is treating you like a damn child. You aren't thinking clearly, and Jamie knows this. You have no clue what the mainland is like anymore. Still, he looks at you, and he can't help but find your expression adorable. You seem so determined. He wonders what made you say something like that. He grabs your chin, stroking your skin with a small smile.
"Sure ya do," he mocks, his smile heard in his voice.
You and Jamie have been close since you were children. Well, since you found refuge here. You were thirteen when the outbreak happened. You haven't seen an infected since you came here. Jamie has, and he'd be damned if he ever let you put yourself in danger. Not you. He loved you too much. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone.
"C'mon, let's get you home," he says and wraps his arm around your waist to help you walk. You mutter something under your breath, and then you turn around, calling out to your friends, "Jamie will take me to the mainland with him tomorrow! I'll show you!"
"Shush. No I won't," Jamie says and pulls you back to him. His jaw clenches when all he hears is laughter and encouragement to your statement. Did everyone think it was funny? Because the hell it is. Jamie groans. He has a hard time helping you into your house as you drunkenly stumble around. You're fighting him, which is making this worse, and mumbling under your breath.
Finally, once he has you safe in your bed with your bedroom door shut, he collapses onto your couch and prays that this idea you've gotten in your head will disappear as soon as you've sobered up.
He should have known better. After all, it's you.
That morning, the sun is barely peeking over the horizon, and you look adorably cute in your outfit. Large leather boots and a large coat—which looks like it belonged to your father—dwarf you. You're wearing one of your father's old bows and some shitty-looking arrows. Your friends find it hilarious, but Jamie doesn't look amused.
"What the fuck are you wearing? Go home. I am not entertaining this." He crosses his arms, glaring.
"Take me with you. You promised," you lie stubbornly.
Jamie looks scandalized. "I did not," he hisses.
"Take 'er with ya," one of your friends, who have gathered around to send Jamie off, calls and chuckles. "She's clearly desperate to come." You turn and see them sending you thumbs up. You feel uneasy, but you swallow the feeling and look at Jamie again. You know he sees right through you—he always does—but you don't care.
"I'll just go alone then," you say, sounding determined, and just the threat that you'd venture into the mainland alone has Jamie's blood running cold. So he nods. The air feels salty as you step out of the gates, your boots slipping a little on the wet ground. Your hand tightens around the bow you're carrying, and Jamie sends you a sideways look as you walk further away from the village.
"You can still back out, Worm."
You shake your head. "I can defend myself," you tell him, and he sighs.
"Then keep up," Jamie adds sharply, walking faster into the green hills. The further you walk, the less confident you feel. You haven't shot an arrow in a while, and while you hadn't been completely shit at it, there was no guarantee you would hit an infected. At every creak, you jump, and at every sound, you move closer to Jamie. The latter feels just as tense as you, if not more. He's worried for you, and it keeps clouding his judgment. He hasn't found a single animal to hunt.
Suddenly, his hand shoots out, and he grabs your arm. He yanks you to his chest, pressing himself behind a tree as he holds his hand over your mouth and nose. You clutch at his forearms, fear settling in your stomach. Had he heard something you hadn't? Lips press against your ear.
"Quiet. Don't move and stay here."
He drops his hand and gently moves you so your back is pressed to the trunk of the tree. He fishes an arrow and turns, disappearing from view for a moment. You can hear distant snarls and grunts, and you squeeze your eyes shut. This was the stupidest idea you've ever had. The sound of arrows in the air and distant screams cause your heart to pound, but you focus on your breathing.
That works until you hear a shrill cry and then Jamie's desperate voice:
"RUN!"
You break into a run, having no clue where or why you're running. Your mind is fuzzy, and there is a loud ringing in your ears. You push through the trees, sharp branches and leaves scraping at your limbs. Jamie's words, as well as a distant memory, bounce frantically around your head. It had been a few years after the outbreak; Jamie was a little older than you, and he'd promised you something.
You remember his boyish face, promising you that he would always look after you. Always. And that he only ever asked for one thing in return—that you listened to him if you were ever in danger.
And you had. You ran.
You gasp, your boots catching on a root, and you fall forwards, stumbling down a small hill. Leaves and sticks and dirt stick to your skin as you stare at the blue sky. The pain in your knee is a distant feeling, and you blink away tears. What on earth had possessed you to be this stupid? You can still hear distant screams and shouts, and just as you prepare to accept your fate, Jamie hauls you up by your shoulders and drags you under a half-collapsed tree.
His dirt-covered hand returns over your mouth, muffling the scream from the pain in your knee. You lower your eyes and see blood soaking your jeans, white bone peeking through the skin. Jamie's voice in your ear grounds you as you prepare to let out a curling wail.
"Shh. I know, I know it hurts. I'm right here. Stay quiet, and they'll run by us. I promise."
You lean into him, more tears slipping past your eyes. You feel lightheaded. You fall in and out of consciousness from the pain, the sky eventually turning darker. You don't remember much but the feeling of someone's hands under your thighs, their warmth, and the sound of their harsh breathing.
When you wake, you're in your bed. Your injured leg is elevated, wrapped in bandages. You blink, taking in your surroundings. You're in your room. You're alive? You turn your head, seeing Jamie asleep next to you, his head in his arms. He looks so peaceful like this, his breathing even.
"J-Jamie?"
His name wakes him up instantly, and he looks up, his blue eyes wide.
"Y/n—"
He pulls you into his arms instantly, careful not to injure your knee more as he props you up, and he inhales your scent.
"You stupid fool," he grumbles into your ear. "I—I should have never let you come with me."
You hug him back, still feeling weak and exhausted. "I'm sorry," you admit, tears wetting your eyelashes. "It's my fault."
Jamie hugs you harder. "Yes. Yes it is." He sounds as concerned as he is angry.
You only want to cry harder. "I—I don't know why I did it. I was angry. Angry that she was taking up all your attention."
Jamie inhales a breath and pulls away, his blue eyes shining, and he looks confused. "Who was?"
You bite your cheek, eyes wet and red-rimmed. "Isla."
Jamie is quiet for a moment, and then he bursts into a laugh. His head drops onto your shoulder as he laughs, and you only feel more horrible.
"It's not funny," you croak, trying to find the words to tell him you're in love with him and that it isn't fair that he likes someone like Isla. No one should be that pretty! You tremble, unable to push him away as his warmth overwhelms you.
"Ja—"
You're interrupted by his lips on yours, his calloused hands gently holding your cheeks. He kisses you like a starved man—as if this was the last kiss he would ever have. Your heart is pounding, and you panic a little, kissing him back hesitantly.
Jamie smiles against your lips. "Don't think too much," he teases and continues to kiss you. His hand dips down to squeeze your hip.
"Just feel," he whispers and presses open-mouthed kisses on your neck and near your collarbone. You shiver, making a sudden movement and wincing in pain as you move your knee.
Jamie pauses and looks at you with a frown. "Yer okay, ya?"
You nod, still feeling breathless. You must look like a mess. However, Jamie only smiles. He strokes his thumb against your cheek, marveling at the softness underneath his fingers, and a strong sense of protection ignites inside him. He wants to beat himself up again. He should have never allowed this to happen. He's the damned fool.
He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead.
"You've always been mine, Worm. Always. No one compares to you—not now, and not ever. Nothing, not even death, can change that, ya hear?"
Your stomach twists in all the right ways, and for once, coming from a man who tells obnoxious stories, whose words are often meaningless, you hear something deeper than the regular chatter. It sounds like love.
Warnings: 18+, mostly fluff with a bit of a angst, oral
Summary
You're a barmaid at a tavern where Jamie Fraser shows up to with his entourage. While this men drown their sorrows in the drink, Jamie prefers to drown his sorrows in other endeavors.
It's a rowdy night at the bar, you're no stranger to nights like this, in fact you look forward to the heavy handed tips the men throw your way. Men splash ale on one another, women giggle and dance with each other, or in the arms of drunken men hoping to see the underside of their skirts. A few brawls break out but are quickly broken up by the owner and his son, Charles. Two level headed business men who refuse to partake in the drink, after spending most of their life in a tavern surrounded by babbling idiots. Just a typical night, you wouldn't have it any other way.
The height of the night is upon you and a group of four men walk in, one is quite small, one quite large, one a bit older, and one a redhead. They're clearly from around here, as the older one motions to a group and the table dispurses in an instant. Though they don't seem familiar to yourself, they're obviously recognized by the townsfolk. The tall red headed man, peers over towards the bar and eyes you, he does a double take as you're pouring two cups of ale and smiles devilishly in your direction.
Your eyes dart back and forth from the cups to the curious man, as you hand the ale to the women before you, when you notice him heading your way. Wiping your hands on your dress you smile and nod to him.
“What can I git ya, Mr..”
“Fraser, James Fraser.”
He extends his hand out and you shake it with a smile.
“What can I git ya, Mr.Faser?” You ask again.
“If you'd be so kind, a pale of your finest brew, for my lads.” He asks smiling.
“Of course,” you nod politely. “Four glasses?” You ask.
“Ah, pretty and astute.” He says.
“Pardon?” You say with a grin.
You load up a tray with cups and a pale of ale before him.
“It warms me to know my lands are not completely barren of bonny lasses like yeslef.” He winks, leaning against the bar.
“My lord!” You clatter the cups upon the tray, attempting to bow before the lord from behind the bar.
“Ay, no need to stand on ceremony for me, I am but a simple man, honored to be in the company of a beautiful woman…. It should be me who is bowing.”
He steps back and takes a slight bow before you. You feel your cheeks redden as a giggle erupts from within you as you clasp your hand over your chest.
“You're too kind, my lord. Please, enjoy the night and the spirits, on the house.” You reply gleefully.
“I appreciate it lass, although it will only be my men enjoying the drink tonight.”
You shoot him a puzzled look.
“While I appreciate your generosity, it is only the purest Scottish whisky I partake in these days.”
He winks devilishly at you before taking the tray in his hand and heading back over to the table with his men.
You wrack your brain thinking of where Charles and his father kept the good liquor. Normally the townsfolk couldn't dream of being able to afford a cup of pure Scottish whisky, nevermind get drunk off it. Thus, the owners kept a small stash of it in the back for occasions just as these.
You rush to the back of the alehouse and scan the dusty shelves lined with barrels of drink, mostly quickly brewed ale, what most of the townsfolk can afford. Peering in the darkened room, you spy two small glass bottles on the highest shelf. Peering around the room you spy a crate and hold your skirts up as you reach for the bottles. The crate beneath your foot lets out a large crack and you gasp gripping the dingy shelf tighter. It holds strong, as you retrieve the bottle and nestle it into the folds of your skirts while walking back out to the bar.
The lights and sounds hit you as you step from the darkness; the lord's eyes catching you and you smile. Peering around the room, you attempt to make your way back to the bar. You grab a whisky glass, dust it off and dry it before uncorking the bottle of whisky, its aroma fills your nose with delightful notes of amber and woods. You fill a glass and quickly slip the bottle away under the bar away from the patrons view. Placing the glass upon a tray amongst some other cups of ale, you make your way over to Lord Frasers table.
His men are loud in conversation and do little to acknowledge your presence. Lord Fraser grins wildly at you, and you return the smile as you place the glass of whisky in front of him. He peers down at the glass, doing another double take as his thick head of red locks tousle. You quickly disappear into the crowd before saying a word.
Behind the bar, Charles bustles about tending to patrons.
“Where have you been!?” He demands.
“I'm sorry, Charles, Lord Fraser and his men are seated over there and I thought it well to deliver a gift to his table.”
Charles slams the empty ale cups on the bar and peers around the bar.
“Ay, Lord Fraser you say?” He asks.
“Yes, he…he's right over there.” You say pointing in his direction.
The red headed lord looks over his shoulder seeing you point towards him and gives a faint wave. You smile and settle back on your feet, Charles sneering at your interaction with the lord.
“Ay, must go pay my respects I suppose.”
Charles bounds from behind The bar and barges his way through the crowded tavern. You pour drinks for the men in front of you, their eyes barely open with intoxication.
Charles approaches the lord and slaps him firmly on the shoulder. Lord Fraser stands and shakes Charles’ hand. Their conversation is unheard, but the Lord points toward you and smiles. He shows his whisky glass to Charles and you drop your gaze as you pour more ale cups for the customers approaching the bar.
Moments later Charles reappears behind the bar.
“Offering whiskey to the Lord was a good move, …he says he'll recommend the tavern to all who ask!”
You smile coyly as you wipe the clean glass in your hand.
“Ay, hurry and put that bottle back before a drunk sees it, and a brawl breaks out over it though, eh?”
You nod and secretly snatch the bottle of whiskey from under the bar, hiding it again in the folds of your skirts and hurry back down the darkened hallway towards the back of the alehouse.
You rush as you hear the roar of men and know you should hurry to return to the bar. In the darkened room you reach up, stepping to reach the highest shelf, when your full weight settels on the crate, a loud creak sounds from under your foot. You freeze, instantly remembering the uncertainty of the crate from earlier. The bottle is almost on the shelf as you carefully reach just a bit higher.
‘CRAAACK’
But its too late and you feel the crate give way. You shield your face with your arms as you prepare for the hard ground below you. You hear the smash of the whisky bottle but feel the padded landing of nothing compared to a hard floor. It takes you only a moment to realize you haven't hit the ground at all, but have fallen into the arms of… you peer up spying his vibrant blue eyes and shaggy red hair. Even in the dark, his features are flawless.
“My lord!” You gasp.
He eases you down on the ground and you stand close to him between the narrow shelves.
“Ay, are you alright lass?” He asks in a low gruff tone with a smirk.
“...I…Yes, thank you.. my Lord..” you say breathless, taken aback.
His hand reaches up and brushes your stray hairs from your face, gently tucking them behind your ear. Your breath catches in your throat at his touch. He's standing so close to you, holding your face in his hands.
“...My Lord..” you manage to squeeze out of your tight chest.
He brushes a finger over your lips.
“Shhh… Jamie, please call me Jamie.” He says with a smile.
You exhale quickly, your pulse quickens and your mind races, trying to comprehend what is happening.
“Tell me lass, would you do me the honors of allowing me…to…I would very much like to..to kiss you?”
You swallow hard, your core burning hearing his words. Your breath quickens yet again as you gasp slightly.
He searches for an answer in your eyes, cradling your face in his hands, his face slowly turns to terror.
“I'm…I'm so sorry lass, this was…”
“Yes!” You force yourself to speak quickly.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you. Slowly, he brushes his lips against yours. Gently caressing your jaw, he draws your face up towards his. Then harder he presses, his tongue gently grazing your mouth. He takes his time exploring your plump wet lips; softly grazing his teeth against them. Finally, he cocks his head, and his mouth devours yours. You moan into him, his hands gently gripping your neck lapping at your tongue.Your hands slide up under his coats and he quickly sheds them. His blunt finger tips trail down your neck, over your chest and pluck at the ties of your dress. He prys them from each intricate hole, as his mouth devours yours.
With the last lace your dress, your breast's spring free and he holds you firmly by the waist as he takes in full view of them before him. Your hips grind against his as you both stand gasping, wide eyed. His hand reaches to palm your breast, but pauses;
“…Would it be alright…; his hand shaking as he speaks. “..For me to touch you?..”
Your own hands creep along his large muscular torso, up to his collar where you carefully unbutton his shirt. Staring at his broad sculpted chest, you trail your fingers down his pecs, your fingers tracing the indents in his abs.
“…You may touch me…anywhere you please.” You reply shakily.
His rough hands squeeze your breasts, you take a sharp inhale. His fingers press into your soft sensitive skin, gently rubbing your nipples between his fingers as you moan.
His stomach covered with a thin layer of sweat as his chest huffs up and down, admiring you. You release him from your touch and reach behind your back to loosen the straps of your corset. It drops to the ground at your feet and the front of your blouse falls, exposing your skin to the cool damp air. His hands grip your hips, softly at first, then diggin his fingertips harder in your skin. He reaches down and lifts you by your ass up against the wall, pinning you as he buries his face within your breasts.
He kisses them softly, trailing his mouth down your stomach and back up, taking your nipples in his mouth and sucking eagerly at them. You gasp with pleasure, running your fingers through his thick head of hair. He grunts against your soft skin, his stubble rubbing you raw as he’s lapping, and sucking, and kissing the soft supple tits in his face.
You moan against him, panting breathlessly, before exploding with a sudden shout of pleasure. His teeth sink into the sensitive skin around your nipple, he pulls his head back taking it in his mouth again and sucks hard. It ignites a new sensation in your core, aching against him.
Suddenly, the door flings open, light rushing in shining perfectly upon the two of you, you gasp. Prying your faces from one another, he cranes his head and does his best to shelter you from the light peeking in.
“What in the bloody hell, is going on in here!?” Booms Charles voice.
Charles spies Jamie's piercing blue eyes staring back at him, seething with lust and anger..
“…My Lord, forgive me…” Charles stutters.
“Aye, close the door, this lass deserves proper privacy!” Jamie bellows back.
The door shuts abruptly and Jamie drops you to the ground gently.
“My..sincere apologies, lass..” he says breathlessly.
He kisses you hungrily again and you pull him against you, savoring his taste; the warmth of whisky, amber and wood, with the heat of lust and hunger. With his hands firmly on your waist, he prays himself from you and stares down longingly in your eyes.
“We…should probably get out of here..” he says in a huff.
“Jamie, no!” You plead, urgently. “You can’t, please!…don’t stop now!” You beg, pushing against him.
He grunts with your forcefulness, pinned between you and the wall, you stare up at him pleading with your eyes to him. He shoots you an apologetic look, eyeing the door.
“…Lass…” he says, stroking your hair softly.
You stand against one another still panting.
“Jamie!” You moan against his damp skin.
You pepper kisses across his chest, you are not about to let him leave, not now! Quickly, you decide to do something that would force him to stay. Something he couldn’t refuse to deny, nor could any man.
You peer down at his stomach, quivering a bit, eagerly undoing his belt and the front of his trousers. You pry them open, carefully grabbing his cock in your hand and pull it out from the layers of fabric. He groans at your touch, and you kneel down in front of him.
His cock; slowly growing stiffer and longer, in the grasp of your small warm hand. You feel the wetness slick and hot between your legs. Peering up with hunger in your eyes, you lick your lips and gently press his warm tip to your lips. You shoot your tongue out, wrapping his head in your warm mouth and peer back up at him.
“Shall we leave?…” You ask in a hushed voice.
“Christ lass, don’t stop now!” He cries, tilting his head back.
You wrap your wet lips around his pushing tip, swirling your tongue around him with a gentle tug. Your hand stroking him as you wetten his shaft with your mouth inch by inch. You have him right where you want him.
“…Don’t stop now!” He says again in a breathless moan. “ Christ, don’t ever stop!”
Summary: certain confessions come out when the tensions are high
A/N: This is my first time writing straight smut and 2nd time just in general If you have any constructive criticism then please let me know. Also I'm sorry that it's later than I said Something came up and I wasn't able to post.
C/W: confessions, kissing, swearing(I mean it is a Ted lasso fic), no use of Y/N, pining, eventual smut(unprotected PinV(wrap it before you tap guys), oral sex-f receiving, bad dirty talk, hair pulling- m receiving, praise, chocking, tit okay, hickeys, multiple organisms-f
Word count: 1750
“I do not” was my response to Keeley. You see Keeley is my best friend (somehow) and she accused me of having a crush on Jamie Tartt. The prince prick of all pricks as Roy so eloquently puts it.
Jamie Fuckin Tartt.
I hate the fucker.
“Oh come on I've seen the way he looks at you” Keeley states.
“The fuck you mean by that”
“He looks at you how I imagine Spider-Man does Mary Jane” She giggles into her wine glass. Causing some to splash and spill onto her sofa.
Rebecca then walks in and claims the love seat next to Keeley's sofa.
“Sorry, I'm late paperwork took longer than I expected. Anyway, what are we talking about?” Rebecca asks pouring herself a glass of wine.
“How Jamie likes her” Keeley answers.
“Oh come of it”
As I'm walking back to my office after giving Rebecca some paperwork from today. I hear footsteps approaching, assuming it's one of the lads, I keep walking but step out of the way.
The footsteps slowed as they reached me. I turned to see who it was. It's Tartt.
“Hey doll”
“Hey Jamie, what do you want” I replied
“How about me and you go to the new Italian place on a date” he asks.
“Oh my god Jamie. Would you please just stop asking me out? It's not funny it just hurts. So just fucking stop” was my response.
I've been home for about an hour when I hear a knock at my front door. I go to answer the door whilst in my pyjamas. Which are some bootie shorts and a mens Spider-Man t-shirt.
It's Jamie at the door.
He waits in silence for me to say something. When I don't he just leans forward and kisses me. After a few seconds of surprise, I kiss back. Assuming this would be the only time I get to kiss him, I savour it. He pulls back first.
“Hey. So I've not been taking the piss when asking you out. I do actually really like you. And even if you say no I can't live with you thinking that I'm taking the fucking piss. Because I think that you are incredibly smart it's as if you've got Tony Stark's brain. You're also incredibly funny and beautiful. You could be covered in mud head to toe and I'd still think you were the most stunning woman to ever walk the earth”
There's a beat of silence where Jamie takes a deep breath. I grab Jamie by his collar and kiss him. Jamie slips his tongue between my lips. We part “just to make it clear I also like you too”
Jamie is then smashing his lips onto mine. However, I pull away. “ Tartt follow me” I whisper. I keep hold of his collar as I guide him up the stairs; whilst keeping eye contact. Once in my room, my mouth is on his.
He sits on my bed as I take my t-shirt off. Revealing my breasts. Once I straddled him, Jamie's hands went straight to my tits and mine went straight to the bottom of his shirt. I tried to get his shirt off without parting our lips. Doesn't work. So we part so he can take it off.
As I make out with him I lean forward causing him to lie down against my bed. Once he's down, I trail kisses down his chest to his glorious happy trail. “You're so pretty, baby”. I sit back on my knees.
Jamie takes this as an advantage to flip us. So that I'm now the one on my back. His lips go straight to my nipple whilst my hand tangles in his hair. A gasp manages to escape me as Jamie starts to lick and suck at my nipple. He doesn't forget about the other, no, he needs the other one. After a few minutes, he swaps sides. “Such pretty tits, nothing more beautiful” Jamie manages between kisses as he leaves a trail of spit and kisses down from my breasts to my hips.
He uses his index to tap my hip twice. I take this as a demand to lift them so I do. He uses this to slowly drag my shorts down my hips. Leaving kisses in his path. A tease. That's what Jamie Tartt is.
Once the shorts are off he kneels at the foot of the bed. He leans forward to hook his hand under my thighs. I let out a high-pitched squeal as he used this as a way to pull me forward. So my arse is hanging just off the edge of the bed.
He chuckles to himself as he looks up at me and makes eye contact. He lowers his gaze towards my core. “So wet, and I've barely even touched you”. He litters both my thighs with hickeys. Simultaneously, ignoring where I needed him most.
“Jamie Darling if you don't start eating me out, I will actually kill you” I say attempting to sound serious although it comes out breathier than intended.
He pulls away. Which elicits a whine from me. Then without warning his tongue makes contact with my clit. The noise that exits my mouth is damn near pornographic. This causes Jamie to flatten his tongue against my hole.
A string of pleas and “Jamie's” added in spurred him on. My eyes rolled back once they met his stunning eyes. You can't tell where his pupil ends and his iris begins.
“You taste delicious love, like sweets”
In response, I snap my thighs together as best I can. To trap Jamie's face there. Jamie revels in the pressure of my thighs on either side of his head.
My hand is tangled in Jamie's locks. Jamie starts to prod his pointer finger at my hole. This causes me to clench around nothing.
Jamie inserts both his middle and pointer fingers and starts a slow thrust. Simultaneously, he sucka my clit like it's a fucking lollipop. “Doing so good for me Jamie” he groans against my pussy in response. Causing vibrations to ripple through me.
The movement of his fingers matched with the attention of his tongue feels phenomenal. Pleasure burns through my veins like a wildfire.
“Jamie-ugh-I’m gonna-gonna cum”
“Go on then doll….let go"
With that flames erupt throughout my entire body. All while his actions never falter. Leaving me to ride out my high.
The hand in Jamie's hair pulls him up, away from my centre and up my whilst I sit up. “Come here” I mutter as I attach my lips to his. He tastes like me. With my release all over his lips.
It takes Jamie a few seconds to register what a happening but he kisses back nonetheless. The hand that's not in his hair traces up his body to his neck.
His breath hitches as my fingers curl around his neck. He likes it. I pull away. He attempted to chase after my lips. I chuckled under my breath.
“Do you like it when I choke you, Jamie?”
“Mmhmm”
“I'm gonna need words, darling”
“Yeah feels good yeah”
I use his blissed out state as an advantage. I got him to lie on his back on my bed.
He whines when I remove my hands from his hair and back. “Shhh Jamie I'm just going to take your trousers and pants off”
I tap his waist as an instruction to lift his hips. So I hook my finger under his pants and slowly slide them down his strong legs. “Good boy Jamie” his cock twitches at the praise.
It's beautiful. It's long but not long enough to cause any pain. The girth is perfect. It's thick enough to burn but just the right amount that it makes your head spin.
Once his trousers are off I straddle his thighs. My left hand returns to its original position around Jamie's neck. Whilst the other starts to pump his dick.
I inch closer to Jamie. To the point I'm now hovering over it. “Does that feel nice darling?”. All I get in response is a loud groan. My neighbours will be complaining in the morning.
I guide his cock from my clit to my centre a few times. Just go tease him. I slowly start to sink my way down his dick. I stop once I bottom out.
This gives me time to adjust. I feel full. He feels better than anyone I've ever been with before. Jamie then lets out a groan. A needy groan that begs me to move.
I rock my hips slowly at first to set a steady pace. Jamie's moans and pleas of “faster” egg me on. Causing me to go faster.
Jamie starts to thrust back and meet me halfway. I fall forward after a particularly hard thrust. Though I catch myself placing my hand on his right pec.
Jamie's thrusts start to stutter. He's getting close. “Are you going to cum Jamie?” I ask in a cocky tone. In response, he moves his hand around to play with my clit.
“Doll, I'm gonna cum” Jamie says in desperation.
“Wait for me, darling”
He whines at that. Jamie's thrusts start to falter a bit whilst the movement from his calloused finger doesn't. They increase.
“Oh-jamie I'm so close. You're such a good boy”
“ Jamie, baby cum”
The feeling of Jamie's cum squirting into me in thick ropes causes me to fall over the edge. Although it feels like a plummet.
The pace slows as we both ride out our highs.
“I take it that you do like me back then” Jamie questions.
“I think I made that clear darling. Although I think you owe me a date.” I say which earns me a chuckle as I place a kiss on his lips.
I turn to check the time on my phone and find my way blocked. It is Jamie with his face in my neck. The memories of last night all come flooding back.
I pick up my phone and snap a photo of the position I'm in. I've got Jamie cuddled up to my side with his face in my neck and all the exposed bits of skin are covered in hickeys.
I sent the photo to Keeley with the caption of ‘I think you might've been right’. Once I hit send I received about a dozen text messages from whom I assume is Keeley. But I ignored them and went back to sleep.
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