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rqgnarok · 10 months

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i can see you - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 6,082

warnings: SMUT, both implications and the actual act. no use of pronouns but reader is described with female anatomy.

summary: you and jamie have been watching each other for ages, trying not to feel the pull between you. a moment in the hallway changes everything.

author’s note at the end <3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Jamie comes back to Richmond one cold, quiet morning.

Quiet, because his teammates refuse to talk to him even after he’s at the receiving end of the harshest glares Jamie’s ever seen. They prickle his skin and make him feel too small in his own body, but he juts his chin up and trots around the field following Ted’s instructions.

“He’s the worst,” Sam tells you one morning after the facts. You bought an extra coffee on your way in because Sam had spent the entire week clenching his teeth so tightly you could see it in his jaw. It had only taken you one nudge and he spilled his feelings out like a dam breaking. “He just makes me feel awful about myself. And even if he’s apologized, that doesn’t mean he’s changed. I know Ted believes in second chances and I do, too, but that man is incapable of improving. The only person he’s ever cared about is himself.”

You’re inclined to believe him just because of how dejected he sounds. So when Jamie Tartt comes by the PR office later looking for Keeley and finds you instead, the annoyance that overtakes his features only cements your bad image of him.

“Keeley ain’t in?”

“Just missed her,” you say, short and clipped, head bent to focus on your work. “She’s out for lunch, Roy’ll probably bring her back in an hour.”

Silence meets your words, and you look up to see him looking at you, seemingly lost in thought. “Is… there anything else I can help you with?”

He snaps out of it, eyes a little wide and mouth struggling to find the right words. He’s pretty, you allow yourself the thought before immediately filing it away from your mind. He’s an asshole, your brain supplies, and yeah, that’s much better.

“Sorry,” he says in that awful accent of his that’s in no way endearing. Not even a little bit. It doesn’t help that he looks actually apologetic, unsure, tugging at his shirt nervously. “We, um, haven’t met, have we? ‘m Jamie.”

“I know,” you say, not exactly kindly, but the whole world knows who he is. You’d have to be living in outer space to not be aware of Jamie Tartt’s existence. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jamie’s tentative smile turns bitter and he tucks his head down, embarrassed. “Ah. ‘Course. Yeah, no, I’m. ‘m sure you have.”

He sounds just like Sam had when telling you about Jamie’s torment and it tugs at your heart despite how you don’t want it to.

“Anyways, just,” he shrugs, trying to give you a sunny grin and failing only slightly. You almost respect his efforts. “Know you’ve been here a while and all but, uh. Welcome, anyways. Richmond’s a nice place to be.”

You sigh.

“You, too,” you say when he’s already at the door, surprising both of you with your sudden considerate candor. You shrug a little. “What you’re doing can’t be easy. It takes a lot of guts to come back here. I hope it’s worth it.”

“So do I,” he says before giving you one last smile, albeit a bit more genuine, and leaving your office.

After that, you’re both extremely aware of each other. It’s like the universe has decided to make sure you’re always in close vicinity, bumping each other in the hallways, arriving and leaving work at the same time, being paired up by Keeley for ad campaigns and photoshoots. You have the suspicion that Keeley’s been doing it on purpose– a good boss but a nosy friend, nevertheless, but it’s proven incorrect when she assures you don’t have to work with Jamie if you don’t want to.

“I know how he can be,” she says, eyes kind and hands on your shoulders, shaking you a little. “If he makes you uncomfortable in any way just say the word and I’ll take care of it, babes. I know how to handle him anyways.”

But you’re a grown woman. You can handle an asshole at the workplace, even if it comes in the beautiful package that is Jamie Tartt.

You can’t say you haven’t noticed him; his plump lips and smart mouth, defined arms covered in tattoos, hands that look like they know their way around the in-between of someone’s legs. You’re angry at him by your connection to the other boys but you’re not blind– and Jamie is a sight to behold.

He seems to know it, too, smirking at you whenever he catches your eye. He brushes by you in the hallway and you get a whiff of his cologne, sometimes a steady hand around your elbow when your steps stumble.

He murmurs a quiet alright, love? and you both move on with your day, your skin a little too warm and the imprints of his fingers tattooed on your skin until you get home.

You pay him back for those moments at random times. Once, during a photoshoot, you make a noise of frustration when the photographer insists that Jamie poses a certain way, dressed in his uniform as if he were about to jump into the pitch but looking a little too put together.

“It doesn’t feel genuine,” you explain, but you only receive blank, annoyed looks in response, so you take matters into your own hands and walk into the set, placing yourself in front of Jamie.

“Just-” you sigh, frustrated, and reach towards him before hesitating. He’s sitting down for the photo, and the sight of him looking up at you, his body between your legs does something you can’t bear to think about in a workplace environment. “May I?”

Jamie stutters, suddenly nervous. “I- sure. Go ‘head.”

You take off his hairband with a swift motion and tangle your fingers in his hair, messing it up. It’s soft and runs like water between your fingers, the smell of some fancy conditioner and hair product hitting your nose.

You dig your nails into his scalp a little too roughly, and before the apology sitting on your tongue can be said, Jamie’s shiver overtakes his body, a muffled sound being bitten back for you not to hear it, but you hear it anyways.

It makes you stop, just for a second, and your eyes meet. There’s something different in Jamie’s, greyish green darkening like you’re looking into the eye of the storm. The air is suddenly thick with tension, your hands still in his hair, his own twitching in his lap as if wanting to reach for–

Behind you, the photographer asks, “Are you done?”

You gulp and look away from Jamie, voice incredibly steady despite how dry your throat feels. “Almost.”

You hand him the hairband back and your fingers brush when he goes to take it. He exhales a gust of air, slowly, as if trying to avoid any suspicion of how badly the little touch is affecting him.

When it’s back on, you reach again to pull loose some strands of hair and your other hand holds him by the chin, keeping him still.

“There,” you say after a couple of moments or after an eternity. You let go of him and the room comes back into focus.

Jamie blinks as if he’d been having trouble thinking past the touch of your hands on him, oddly intimate. You move out of the way so the photographer can squint at whatever you did with his hair. “You see what I mean?”

The rest of the photoshoot is uneventful, but it becomes quite clear that whatever things you do to get into Jamie’s head work as efficiently to get into yours.

The team begins warming up to him after the whole Dubai Air debacle, and something inside of you unclenches in relief when you see Jamie sharing beer and laughter with the boys in the locker room after Sam’s press conference.

It feels like permission. The guilt you feel whenever you stare at Jamie a little too long suddenly dissipates, and you dare to bite your lip when he catches your eye across the room. His stare slips to your mouth before refocusing on his conversation, and the way he tugs at his collar and his cheeks flush makes you feel victorious despite the team’s loss tonight.

Later at Keeley’s, Roy nurses a beer while splayed out on the couch and asks you about Jamie. “Please tell me he’s done something stupid so I can punch him in the dick next time I see him.”

“You need an excuse for that?” you raise your eyebrows in question.

Roy grunts, but there’s hidden glee in his expression as he concedes your point. “Fair enough. He’s given you any trouble?”

“Nothing worth mentioning, I guess,” you shrug, but you make the mistake of hesitating before answering and Roy perks up like a dog who’s caught an intruder.

“Spill,” he orders, but you’ve been friends with both him and Keeley long enough to know rolling your eyes when he gets all manly is an appropriate response. “Come on, out with it. What he’d do?”

“Nothing!” you exclaim, throwing a pillow at him. He catches it swiftly, which annoys you a little. “Relax, old man. If he ever pulls a little too hard on my pigtails you’ll be the first to know.”

Roy grunts again, not satisfied but done pushing for the night.

The real trouble begins at Christmas, hours after the boys exchange gifts and most of the staff is sent home. You’re on your way out, coat on and Uber on the way when you run, once again, into Jamie in the hall, almost knocking both of you to the ground. He has to quickly hold onto your waist, your hands on his chest, to stop it.

“You scared the hell out of me,” you chastise him, both hating and loving the way he smirks at your breathlessness. “I thought you all troublemakers were gone already. You’ve got the rest of the day off, what are you still doing here?”

“Can’t go back to Manchester with a game tomorrow here, can I?” his hands tighten around your waist for a delicious, stretched-out moment before he lets you go. Jamie covers his flush coughing behind his hand as your own slip from his chest. “You lot just got me back after all. Can’t leave you hangin’ without your best player.”

“Ha, ha,” you laugh sarcastically, knowing he’s mostly kidding about that. “Still, I thought you’d be the first one home. Some Louis Vuitton slippers and Gucci robe on, expensive rum…”

“Oh, know me so well, do you,” he teases, poking at your bag. “What about you? You’re on your way out?”

“Uber’s almost here,” you show him your screen so he can see that your ride’s less than five minutes away. “Are you coming around to Higgin’s later?”

Jamie shrugs. “Don’t know if I’m invited.”

“Of course, you’re invited, Tartt. Everyone is.”

“Don’t know if I’m welcome, then,” he corrects.

“Everyone is,” you say again, firm but a little bit gentler than before. “Honestly, you’re lucky you look the way you do, ‘cause you’re a little bit thick.”

Jamie brightens like a kid on, well, Christmas. “You think I’m hot?”

“Of course, that’s what you take from that,” you roll your eyes. “I gotta go, but I better see you there later.”

You point menacingly at him but he only steps forward until your finger’s touching his chest, towering over you with a smirk that screams trouble. “To give you your gift, you mean?”

“You did not get me something,” you say, as sure about it as you are that the sky is blue and dirt is brown. “Not when you dropped the ball with your Secret Santa earlier today.”

“Maybe I like you better,” he suggests, voice low and rich. The sound makes a knot of heat tighten in your belly. “Than I like them, you’ve ever thought about that?”

You remember what Sam told you when Jamie first came back, how he was incapable of thinking about anyone other than himself. The Mancunian had proved that statement to be incorrect a handful of times already, and you’ve been flirting with him long enough to know you’re attracted to him, but you don’t expect any kind of emotional reciprocation from him. Sure, you’re friendly, maybe you’ll call him your friend at one point, but that’s as far as it usually gets with someone like Jamie.

You didn’t even get him a present. That’s how close you two are.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” you relent. You really should be going, but a part of you needs to entertain this conversation for some reason. It’s not always that you get to talk to Jamie without anyone else present. “What could you have possibly gotten me that you couldn’t give your Secret Santa?”

You barely see the face he makes before you’re being kissed within an inch of your life. Right there in the hallway of AFC Richmond’s training headquarters, Jamie Tartt holds your face in his hands as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, warm and wet and relentless.

You open yourself up to him without thinking it through, your phone lost somewhere in the mess of limbs as you latch onto his shirt, desperate for balance.

The kiss is toe-curling hot, your arms wrapping around Jamie’s neck while his own flail a delicious path through your back, hands going under your coat so you feel his skin hot against your sweater.

He ends up with his arm tight around your waist and a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you close. Your mouths slide against each other, warm breaths trapped between your lips as the desperation for more grows and grows and grows and–

Jamie draws back and leans his forehead against yours only to kiss you again, softer and lingering while you’re still catching your breath, then one last kiss for good measure before finally drawing back. Like it happens around Jamie, the world you’d forgotten had existed outside the two of you comes back with rushing clarity, the hallway still miraculously empty.

“Somethin’ like that,” he says, and it takes you a moment to remember what you were talking about before this. Christmas, parties, gifts…

Jamie takes one last look at your face like he’s trying to commit you to memory while you’re all flushed and breathless before he lets you go, walking away into the locker room. “Merry Christmas, love.”

You stay there for a while after he goes, your fingers inevitably going to your kiss-bruised lips, brain still struggling to catch up to the moment.

Jamie kissed you. You kissed him back. You kissed each other like you weren’t at work and where anyone could walk by and see you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand. Your Uber’s outside and waiting.

You end up missing Higgin’s later that afternoon, unsure if Jamie would actually go after you bugged him about it and are terrified that he might.

You’re not avoiding him. For fuck’s sake, you’re a little too old for high school-level social skills, but you’re not sure your heart could take it if you see him so soon after your kiss, acting like nothing happened.

Or worse, making sure to sit next to you during dinner just so he could put his hand on your thigh and make you sweat while everyone’s watching, unaware of the change that’s just transpired in your relationship.

By the next day, you’ve decided to keep things professional, and it helps that Jamie doesn’t really bring it up. You see him before the game in the locker room when you go record some stories for the Instagram page, and he says hello as casually as the rest of the boys.

You exhale a breath you didn’t know were holding and wish them all the best for the game, though if it’s relief or disappointment that washes over you, you’re not sure.

Life moves on. You continue to work together, not sans stolen glances and running into each other in the hallway. It’s different now, because you both know the other remembers that Christmas kiss and accidentally touching when passing each other by makes your breath hitch and Jamie’s face flush.

The energy you had building up between you is charged with something dangerous now, and unless you dare to talk about it it’ll only build up into something you eventually won’t be able to ignore.

But fuck, do you think about it. About the way Jamie’s hands held you, how they kept you in your place and how they would pin you down if you ever were to end up in bed together, his hips driving home while his mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and accent thick with the heat of the moment.

Fuck. Fuck, you’re so fucking gone for him.

It’s also different because Roy comes back, and it’s like he just knows there’s something about Jamie that you’re not telling him.

“What the fuck was that?”

“What?” you question, trying not to sound too defensive.

“What was that… look?” he splutters. Never once in your life have you seen Roy Kent fucking splutter like he couldn’t get a grip on a situation.

“What look?” maybe you can gaslight your way out of this one, you hope, because Jamie had been less than subtle when coming up to you both in the parking lot and talking about needing your help for a sponsored post he was supposed to make.

He got real close, so near you could smell the mix of cologne, sweat, and plain Jamie that rested on his skin. While showing you his phone put a hand on the small of your back, fingers spread open and hot like a brand.

It’d stolen your breath for a second, a hitch in an exhale that had caught both Jamie’s and Roy’s attention. You eyed Jamie warningly but he only smirked, completely aware of what he was doing. You said something about tagging the sponsor and then he was gone, brilliant smile and thanks on his lips as he waved you goodbye.

“That look, all cheeky and shit,” Roy points at where Jamie used to be and looks around for witnesses. You roll your eyes so hard it makes your head hurt a little. “Like he knows something I don’t, as if there’s anything in his brain other than elevator music.”

And of course, he tells Keeley about it, which earns you an interrogation as soon as you come down to the office.

“Thought he didn’t have access to his account,” Keeley frowns. “Didn’t you change his password after the Oreo Incident?”

“God, don’t even think about the Oreo Incident while near me,” you rub at your temples to try to diminish the migraine building up at the mere thought of it.

Now you gotta worry about Roy becoming a buffer between you and Keeley not buying your usual excuses. With them and the rest of the team and staff in the mix, you don’t stand a chance to get near Jamie.

You start surviving on fantasies alone that grow and spiral into unrealistic, too-hot scenarios.

Jamie, his shorts around his ankles and you on your knees in an empty locker room, his hands on your hair as he pants please, love, so fuckin’–

You on the desk and Jamie with his head between your legs, late into the night after everyone’s gone home and it’s you and him in your office as you moan fuck, Jamie, that’s– yeah, that’s good–

A night in a hotel room after some away game, Jamie letting you ride the leftover energy out of him. Thassit, angel, put your back into it, yeah? Be good for me.

It’s too much and it’s not enough.

Jamie throws himself into his training, trailing after Roy’s approval and eager to improve in every way he can, both as a person and a player. It’s nice to see him so dedicated, you think, remembering the traces of cockiness when you two first met in your office.

They’re still there somewhere, and you see them shine when, for some reason, all the coaching staff– Ted included– give Jamie the bird mid-game. You’re sitting on the V.I.P. box next to Keeley when his monster of a goal goes through, screaming your lungs out and hugging everyone within six feet of you.

You’re too far away from the field to see clearly, but you can imagine Jamie with striking clarity: cocky expression and tongue out, arms crossed before the rest of the boys jump with glee to embrace and congratulate him.

The locker room is a mess of sweat and laughter when you go down there, Keeley making a beeline for Roy and Rebbecca going straight to Ted. It leaves you with a bunch of overexcited men hugging you and handing you drinks in celebration.

“No stories for the ‘gram today,” you promise when Zorreaux and Dani begin posing, making faces, and showing off muscles to you. You can’t help but laugh, Sam’s arm around you. “I’m off duty tonight, boys. On a fan capacity only.”

“Are we allowed to date fans?” Jan Maas asks, half joke half genuine question. The boys make ooooh noises of interest.

You laugh again, not taking it seriously, but Keeley suddenly pipes up from her spot on Roy’s lap. “Please don’t! It’s a PR nightmare.”

Roy adds helpfully. “I’ll punch you in the dick.”

The conversation shifts to other topics but you search the room to find Jamie already looking at you, eyes dark and jaw tight. It’s barely a moment of eye contact, insignificant to anyone else in the room, but it’s enough to make your insides flutter. Meet me outside.

Thank God everyone’s too distracted celebrating when you sneak out of the locker room about half an hour later. You find Jamie already there, waiting for you at the end of it. He brightens when he sees you, shutting his phone and putting it in his back pocket.

It’s a little overwhelming, having Jamie Tartt’s full attention on you. As if it’s not exactly what you’ve been pining after for months.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Man of the Match?”

“Me?” he wonders faux incredulously while leaning casually against the wall, a dramatic hand to his chest. You walk till you’re right in front of him. “I work here, love. Or are you forgetting my heroic play out there already?”

You scoff. “We work here, dumbass, and how can I forget? It’s all everyone’s talking about. What are you doing away from your victory parade?”

“Same thing you are. Taking a breather,” he shrugs, giving you a slow once over, taking you in head to toe. You’re wearing a Richmond jersey and some loose jeans, nothing to write home about, but Jamie seems to like it. His tongue wets his lips before he focuses on your face again, charming. “Lots of people in there, yeah? Needed a minute.”

You raise your eyebrows, amused and unconvinced. “I can leave you alone if you want.”

Jamie abandons his spot against the wall and goes to you, slow and careful like a hunter stalking its prey. He says, voice a low, rough murmur, “Didn’t I already tell ya I like you better? You can stay as long as you want, love.”

Your entire body heats up at the callback to last December, the reminder of how easily Jamie snuck into your personal space and stole your breath with a heart-stopping kiss in this very same hallway.

“I‘m not gonna lie, this seems a little orchestrated, Tartt.”

He smiles, indulgent. “Oh?”

“Sending me looks, getting me all alone…” you take a step closer so you’re poorly hidden behind the water cooler. If someone were to walk out of the locker room, they’d have to walk this way and take a turn to see you standing so close to each other.

“You were the one who followed me out,” he reminds you, tilting his head and raising his brows. He’s so expressive and you can’t take it, want to put your mouth to every inch of his face until he’s saying nothing but your name. “Who’s the real mastermind here, ey?”

“Don’t even,” you warn, unable to bite back an upward tilt of the lips. “I know how you get in hallways, mister. I haven’t forgotten, yet.”

“Haven’t forgotten you kissed me back, either,” he adds and dares to place a not-quite kiss on the corner of your mouth, a barely-there brush of the lips. “Couldn’t let go of me, could you?”

“Yeah, well, you leave a lot to the imagination,” you can’t help but complain, the little touch not enough to satiate the hunger you’ve been cultivating since that moment. You grab onto his shirt with a strength you didn’t know you possessed. “I gotta brush up against you just to see if you’ll do something about it and you never do.”

Jamie laughs, rich and warm.

“You think I don’t see ya?” he wonders, fingers brushing against your knuckles before his hands travel slowly up your arms, touch agonizingly warm. Your breath hitches, and it only makes him bolder. “When you pass me by right here in the hallway, touchin’ me ‘on accident’? Leavin’ me wantin’ more?”

“Do you?” you wonder, voice low, facade cracking as your eyes fall to his mouth for a second, stare hungry. “Want more?”

“How could I not?” he admits. You’re looking at him like you want to take a bite out of him, and the adrenaline of that goal is finally wearing off to find more unreleased energy behind it, a tension that’s been strung tight long before he stole a kiss from you. “Fucking Christ, angel, you’re…”

“What?” you wonder when he trails off. Your hands brush against the hem of his shirt and Jamie feels your touch even through his clothing. “What about me?”

You make him feel like he’s on fire, right here in the hallway where anyone, anyone, could see you. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

You smirk, pleased.

“What would you do, huh? If I touched you right now?”

Jamie breathes out his nose harshly. “Fuck.”

“What if I told you-” you begin, slow and tortuous. “That I haven’t stopped thinking about you here? Against the wall where anyone could walk by? What if I wanted you so badly that I didn’t care if they did?”

Jamie follows the bridge of your nose and the shape of your eyebrows with his eyes, the bite of your lip calling to him like a brightly lit bullseye.

He thinks fuck it. Fuck it, fuck restraint, fuck stringing this out any longer. He’s a winner tonight, in more ways than one.

Who knows who leans in first? All you know is that you both meet in the middle, clashing like two waves hitting each other, his mouth frantic and eager on yours. He has one hand at the small of your back, pulling you to him, and another one on your collarbone edging dangerously to wrap around your throat, fingers drumming against tender skin.

You’re touching him everywhere you can reach, feeling so untethered to the rest of the world that your knees buckle, helping him keep you right where he wants you. Whatever remaining bravado you had left vanishes when he has you like this, and you’re desperately trying to keep him close by clutching at the back of his shirt, tanging your fingers into his hair, and raking your nails against his clothed torso.

You can’t make up your goddamned mind. You want all of him, putty in your hands, all the time.

You hear a couple of voices, laughing and joking, leaving the locker room and becoming louder by the second. You separate, mouths bruised and tender to the touch. Jamie offers you his hand, smile glinting dangerously. “You trust me?”

You scoff, taking it and intertwining your fingers. “Against my better fucking judgment.”

He pulls you towards the closest exit and you let yourself be led, anything other than your phone forgotten in your office.

In the blink of an eye, he’s got you in his car, his hand on your thigh edging closer and closer and closer to where you want it. You’re sure he misses one or three stop signs and runs a red light, but the streets are almost deserted at this hour and your skin is warm, only getting warmer even with the AC at full blast.

When you get to his place it’s like you never stopped, and despite your urgency for him to have you right there in the middle of the training facilities, you love the way he pins you against the wall of his home, picture frames rattling with the force of it. His hands bruise your hips and he lifts your jersey up to your chest so his mouth can travel a path of bare skin down your torso, wet and open-mouthed.

He looks up to you when he reaches the waist of your pants, kneeling in front of you, a question melted in the sheer want of the green of his eyes.

He’s asking for permission, you realize.

Something sweet momentarily replaces the urgency you have for him, and you have to drag him back up for another kiss. He makes a questioning noise when you pull him towards you but melts against you when his lips touch yours. It’s a tender thing, an answer, one last quiet moment before you both sink into the chaos.

“Lemme see you,” Jamie kneels back between your legs, this time cleverly undoing your pants and leaving you in nothing but your underwear while you struggle out of your shirt and leave it forgotten on the floor.

His fingers brush over the wet spot between your legs and you gasp, insides clenching in response to his touch. He sounds gutted when he says, “God, look at you. Haven’t even touched you, yet, fuck.”

He tucks his face between your legs and runs his tongue over your clothed clit, the sensation of the wet fabric against his tongue driving him crazy.

He’s painfully hard against his boxers. Jamie’s been waiting for this too long– there’s no way he’s lasting as long as he wants to, but he can focus on you for the time being. It’s not a difficult task, your body’s trembling with the force of your arousal and begging him to do something.

It calls to him, muting the rest of the world around him.

“Are you ever gonna, or should I get things going on my own?”

He smirks against your thighs, biting playfully at the skin there before going alright, alright when you pull at his hair, though it only makes his dick twitch in his pants.

He feels more than he sees your shiver when he finally gets your underwear out of the way, and he wastes no time before hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder before diving in, eating you out with the energy of a man starved.

You hadn’t even made it past the living room.

“Fuck,” you moan, hips thrusting forward and your hand tightening against his hair, the other one searching and failing to find balance against the wall you’re leaning against.

You want to close your eyes as the waves of pleasure wash over you, your muscles taunt with how Jamie’s expertly driving you closer and closer to your orgasm, but you can’t take your eyes off of him. “Fuck, Jamie, that’s good. You’re so good at that, oh–”

You see how his body takes in the praise and feel it against your center when he moans into you, tongue cleverly touching all the right places. Jamie closes his eyes, thoroughly enjoying the experience.

He suddenly draws back, earning a noise of displeasure from you only to be rendered back into a moaning mess when his hands replace his mouth. He looks up at you like he’s staring at a deity.

“What d’ya want?” he asks as he slides two fingers through your folds, his other hand keeping your hips pinned to the wall as you try to buckle into his touch, whimpers echoing through Jamie’s home. “Huh, love? Have I left you speechless already?”

“You said I left you thinkin’ about it,” he recalls, too coherent for someone as terribly horny as he is. But Jamie needs to know, he wants you to crave him as desperately as he does you. “Back in the hall, that’s what you said. Whad’ya want, love? Where do ya want me?”

“Here,” you pant, eyes closed and face tilted upwards as you try to move your hips, chasing ecstasy. Jamie’s fingers are slowing down, probably to make you focus and only driving you further insane. “Anywhere, everywhere. Fuck, Jamie, I want all of it, all of you, please–”

“Greedy,” he singsongs, but any amusement is ripped from his throat with a moan when you pull at his hair again, walnut mist locks like silk between your fingers. He quickens the pace, unable to deny you. “Fuck, greedy thing, aren’t you? Wasn’t enough to stare me down and to steal a kiss, ya want all of it.”

You sigh, muscles clenching. “Yes, yes, yes, yes…”

“Then take it,” he gives you all you want on a silver platter, right there for you to take. “All you need, angel, ‘s all yours, ‘m all yours–”

With both his fingers and mouth back at work, you’re a lost cause, reaching your high and letting it wash over all your limbs like TV static before you become boneless against the wall.

Jamie kisses your knee before moving your leg from his shoulder and setting it gently on the ground, back on his feet just in time to kiss you soundly.

He’s practically holding you up, your arms limply hanging around his neck and your legs made of jelly after the strength of your orgasm. It’s like you let go of all the tension that started building up the second Jamie walked into your office that cold November morning and there’s nothing left holding you up other than his hold on you.

Except Jamie’s hips push into yours and you feel the length of him pressed against you. It’s a reminder that no matter how badly he seemed to enjoy eating you out he hasn’t been able to find his own release. Yet.

You smirk lazily, finding the strength from God knows where to cup him in your hand, watching his expressive face contort in desperate pleasure. “What about you, Jay? What do you want?”

Jamie is unable to do anything other than babble nonsense as you move past his shorts and boxers to take him in your hand, slow and tight. He gives out a little cry when you strengthen your grip, exhaling as he rests his head on your shoulder.

He never does answer you, and Jamie comes like that in your arms, quick and easy. He’s kissing your shoulder, your neck, the hinge of your jaw before finding your mouth and slipping his tongue past your lips, languid and easy.

“You getting tired on me, angel?” he wonders, massaging the skin of the back of your neck to gain your attention. You turn your head, following his motions. His eyes haven’t lost their dark edge. His mouth is red and calling for you to worsen the damage. “Cause the night’s young, you know. Bed’s comfortable, too. If I’m good against a wall, wait ‘til I get you in me bedroom.”

“You’re an idiot,” you say, but you feel a flutter of interest between your legs. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m attracted to you.”

He steals another kiss just for that, giddy with victory, though you don’t know how long you’re gonna get away with calling it stealing when you keep giving yourself to him without a second thought.

“Is that a yes?”

You pretend to ponder on it. “Well. You haven’t fucked me, yet. There’s still room for improvement.”

Jamie shivers. He can’t resist the challenge and you know it. Whether you’re on the other side of the room or in his arms, he’s never getting enough of you and you love it.

“Oh, angel,” he cups your face, already on his way to seal his lips onto yours. “You’ve no idea.”

___

IT’S HERE IT’S HERE IT’S HERE

i’m so afraid of not living up to the expectations of the song but i couldn’t get this idea out of my head!!! thank you if you got this far into the read and i appreciate any comment of support and feedback!

i’m hoping to put out two or three more fics this summer before school starts, after that my schedule might not allow me to post that often but i’m not gonna leave you guys hanging, don’t worry!

_____

taglist: @dunster @daisy-crybaby @talksoprettyjjx @loveslide @ccomandercody @marrianena-library @shakespeareanwannabe @ajkdjdnkekemfxj @higherthanheroes @jamietarttdodo @lightninginab0ttle @seacactusplant @sokkigarden @kti2004 @mrfitzsimmons @guccilongboard @jellycolors @littlemisssunshine192 @uniiversed @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @royskents @youbelongwithflo @curlypeter @alipap3 @feelinthesefics

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #fanfiction #leo writes #ted lasso imagine #reader insert #phil dunster #sam obisanya #toheeb jimoh #roy kent #brett goldstein #keeley jones #juno temple #can't believe i forgot to add tags lmao so stupid

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deadmaidclub · 1 year

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revisiting/redoing a few of my sdr2 redesigns :)

#i forgot to add any tags LMAO hold on #deadmaidart #danganronpa #sdr2 #dr redesigns #i think thats my tag??#mikan tsumiki #hiyoko saionji #mahiru koizumi

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frank-kiwii · 4 months

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He'd burn Eden down if he could.

#rayman #ramon clh #bullfrog #rayfrog #clh fanart #digital art #i drank too much wine whilst making thsi i'm crying at my own drawing 😭😭#oops forgot 2 add a tag lmao erm #my pc started to make weird noises after thi s. help

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yokyoaaa · 5 months

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Dear kirby fandom, today I bring you

Have fun ‼️

#IM SO SORRY IF YOUR CHARACTER AIN'T THERE IM JUST TOO LAZY TO ADD SO MANY PPL #adeleine and the animal friends ain't there because I doubt they're being shipped with anyone #I just put whoever I thought would be in the shipping soup #honorable mentions (aka ppl i forgot to add)#:escargoon garlude jecra and queen ripple #edit: removing the tags because i no longer want this post to be seen LMAO

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orionis13 · 1 year

Text

They’re on their way to fuck shit up!!!

(These are gonna be available as stickers! I’ll post more info this weekend)

#starchive #art tag #jrwi #jrwi fanart #jay ferin #gillion tidestrider #chip jrwi #ollie jrwi #I FORGOT CHIPS TATOOOS AGAIN FUCK #I’ll add those before i sell them my b lmao

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elquacktism · 1 year

Text

I need you to love me more,

love me more,

love me more.

Reblogs are much appreciated peepoHeart

#tntduo #tnt duo #quackity #wilbur soot #dream smp #dream smp fanart #dsmp #dsmp fanart #u can tell how much i tried to avoid side profiles LMAO #i know tallulah just died but im coping here #also gonna post to twitter but im scared ill get flamed #quackity fanart #wilbur soot fanart #i forgot to add the tags......#digital artism

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ghosts-and-glory · 1 month

Note

Everytime you update the comic, I post the link to the COTL server I'm in and screech from the confinements of my cage. I shake the bars and run around like a madman

Hehhehehe I live to make others go ape shit. New page hopefully tomorrow. Teaser upon ye.

#my post #no devotion au #I forgot to add tags before hitting post lmao #ask

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sassy-stupid · 9 months

Text

Sky High

Pairing

partydrugdealer!Sero x f!reader

18+ only please

Smut

Word count

3.1k

Content warnings

drugs (mostly weed but theres a mention of unnamed party drugs), dubcon (reader is under influence of drugs (weed)), fingering, oral (f receiving), vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampies

Everyone is this fic is 18+

Summary

You've never done drugs before and none other slimefest's very own dealer offers to show you the ropes.

This is my entry to the slimeball summer collab! I got the prompt "festivals"!! I'm super excited about this since it's my first collab but I'm also very nervous haha. @bastardblvd

"C'mon! It'll be fun!" Your friend's voice was loud and yet you could barely hear it over the murmur of the crowd.

You and your little group of friends had gotten to the first annual edition of slimetown's very own slimeball summerfest early. The original reasoning had been to get a nice place to pitch the tent. The "new and improved" reasoning, according to your friends, was to buy party drugs before their regular dealer started running low.

You'd assumed that was because the price would go up at that point but festival drug dealing wasn't exactly your area of expertise.

"Fine, but you guys gotta watch me okay? I don't want to be the person waking up in a hospital without any memories of their so called 'fun time'," you conceded, letting yourself be pulled along to a neat looking tent.

"This is the drug tent?" you voice your doubt as one of your friends tries to knock on the tent entrance.

She scoffs at you. "Yes it is, why don't you shout it out a little louder. I'm not sure every security guard here heard," she sneers and you hope the drugs will put her into a better mood. "See this?" your other friend taps on the "s" taped on the tent door. "That's our guy's business card."

You snort, the guy didn't even use ductape and the flimsy cellophane tape was already peeling off the tent fabric before the festival had even properly started. Before you can point any of that out to your friends though, the little zipper opens and out comes a lanky looking man who seems about the same age as you.

"As much as I appreciate my clientele ladies, can you either keep it down or come in?" he speaks, moving aside and gesturing you into his tent. The grin on his face friendly and inviting.

You attempt to follow your friends through the small opening but he stops you once you're in front of him. "Haven't seen your face before," he says, and you admit to yourself that his attention on you isn't unwelcome. He's attractive, lean muscles, tan skin and the sluttiest little waist you'd ever seen.

"Yeah, this is not usually my scene, I'm just here for them." You gesture towards your friends as you try to follow them once more. He lets you this time, the inviting grin having slipped into more of an amused smirk.

"I knew it, would've recognized a face like yours," he speaks. Both your friends shoot you looks, one distinctly more annoyed than the other. "And don't you worry. My customer's comfort is of utmost importance to me, I'll help you enjoy yourself." He shoots you a wink and your face heats up, your mind can't help but wander to the possible implications of his words.

"Sero, we didn't come here for you to flirt with (y/n)," your annoyed friend spoke up. She was waving around some cash and the man in front of you took the bait.

"Always so impatient," he says, getting up to rummage through his wares "I've got some new stuff you two may like, wouldn't recommend it for your friend though." He pulls out a bag with what, out of context, would've looked just like candy. Your friend hands him the wad of cash.

"Pleasure doing business with you two, as always, now why don't you two wait outside for a second while I'll teach your friend here the ropes," he requests, you're about to protest but he continues before you can, "awfully crowded in this little tent."

You beg your friends to stay through facial expressions but the fuckers just up and leave, your favourite of the two quickly adding on that they'll wait for you outside.

"So, how much of a first timer are you really?" You know he's talking about drugs but the way he suggestively wiggles his eyebrows implies something else and you realize he's teasing you. Your eyebrows furrow and you're about to give him a piece of your mind when he bursts out laughing. "Sorry, sorry. I always like to joke around to get the edge off a little," he explains. "Though, I have other stuff for that as well." He pulls out a bag of something, it's clearly not the same stuff he just sold your friends but you had no clue what it could be.

He inspects the look on your face and whistles. "Damn, that much of a first timer huh? No worries, I'll talk you through it all" his voice was incredibly smooth and it brought the heat back to your face, you hope he mistakes it for embarrassment.

"Do you always flirt this much? Is that why my friend was shooting me nasty looks?" you ask, trying to deflect. It only causes him to laugh more.

"It's a sales tactic I'm familiar with," he says shooting you another wink. "And not much of a friend, that one. If she's that upset over a flirty comment from her dealer? I can't even imagine the level of jealousy."

"But, you didn't enter my little paradise here to gossip. Let me let you in on how things work around here," he starts, and he does. He tells you all about the drug he's about to sell you, some type of weed called wedding cake? You liked the name if anything. How much it'll cost you and how to smoke it, even offers to show you.

"Can't have my cute little customer bumbling about, not even knowing how to use the stuff I sold her," he explains, nodding in approval as you hold the freshly rolled blunt. "Now let's light it up and I'll show you exactly how to do it." He moves real close to you now, and true to his word he teaches you. The proximity flusters you beyond belief and you think whatever you're smoking right now isn't exactly keeping you clear headed either. You catch yourself looking at his lips more than once and you might not realize it but he catches you too, it makes him chuckle.

"All right, that's enough for now, trust me on that," he tells you. Somewhere deep down you're happy he's doing all of this for you though, makes you giggle. His hand ruffles your hair in response and he speaks again, "let's get you back out to your friends, unless you wanna keep me company?" You're not sure if it's an actual offer or a joke but you laugh either way, already turning towards the exit to find your friends.

You leave the tent to find no one waiting for you, except for a small piece of paper stuck to Sero's tape on the tent entrance. "Hot guy, be back later. Stay safe," it read. Tears well in your eyes. They promised they'd look after you, that's why you agreed to all this in the first place. Now you were all alone, high off your ass, on festival grounds in what is known as the sleaziest town around.

"Aw, come now baby, don't cry." Sero's voice startles you out of your little moment, you'd forgotten he was right behind you. "I'd never leave a cute little customer like you in need," he promises, though you're not entirely sure what the promise entails. He gestures for you to follow him.

Maybe the weed is clouding your mind but you do find yourself following the relative stranger without further questioning, though luckily he comes out with an answer to the question in your mind.

"I'm taking you to my private tent, it's roomier," he explains, his arm around the small of your back now. You lean into it, his warmth feeling nice against your skin.

The crowd had grown since you guys had entered the tent and now there were people everywhere, you were starting to get anxious despite the high you were experiencing. Luckily for you, your ever vigilant dealer noticed.

"Baby, I'm here. You're okay," he says as his thumb strokes your cheek. You think about how normally you'd never let anyone this close but everything about him is just so nice and warm. You lean into his touch entirely and a deep chuckle escapes him. "Want me to really take care of you?" He asks, eyes flitting down to your lips and back up. Yours do the same, except you struggle to pull them back up. You nod nonetheless and he's on you instantly.

You'd kissed plenty of people before but Sero felt different, you wanted to consider that it might be the weed but all you could think of right now was him. The way his lips molded to yours. The way one of his hands dragged up your back and into your hair while the other moved down towards your ass. The way his tongue slipped past your lips and played with yours.

You couldn't suppress the moan that leaves you and and he groans. "Oh aren't you just the cutest, come on, we aren't far." He's pulling you along again before you can complain and you find yourself staring at his ass as he pulls you through a final part of the crowd.

You reach his tent, it does look bigger than the one you just came from but it's placed right in between a few more tents and there's people everywhere. In a moment of clarity you ask him, "but won't people hear?"

The laugh it pulls out of him is attractive but does nothing to ease your worry, and his words certainly don't either. "Sweetness, trust me, that is gonna be the last thing on your mind in a couple of minutes." As he speaks his guiding hand on your lower back slips slightly lower again but you can't find it in you to worry about it anymore, in fact it all feels kind of fun.

So instead you giggle.

The inside of sero's tent is nice, you didn't peg him as the type of guy to decorate his festival tent but apparently business has been good for him. You fawn at one of the cute pillows adorning his mattress. It was a bright yellow and you nearly squealed in excitement as you felt how fuzzy the outside of it was.

"You liking the place?" He asked, the hand that was guiding you from the small of your back had moved to you shoulder and was now pushing you to sit on his mattress. You turn around to face him, looking up at him from your place near the ground and nod enthusiastically. "Good, I pride myself on my sense for interior design."

He's sinking down next to you on the mattress and only now do you realize it's an air mattress, his weight propping the side you're sitting on up. You stop yourself from giggling once more.

"C'mere pretty girl, I know you're just itching to get touched." His voice dropped into a seductive tone and you notice he's right, ever since he'd kissed you you'd wanted more.

You're nodding along as he reaches out to your face, pulling you into another kiss that feels like the centre of your universe. Though that universe expands the second Sero's hand slips into your pants.

Every place he'd touched you had felt hot so far but the sensation of his hand on your pussy nearly drove you wild.

"S-sero," you managed between frantic kissing. In response he just hummed, not letting your lips stray far as his fingers started playing with you.

"What is it pretty girl? Enjoying yourself? I knew you'd look even prettier like this," he says, his hand picking up speed. Your hands are clutching both his hair and his shirt, he's making you feel like you're floating and you're desperately holding on to something.

"Sero I can't-" you interrupt yourself with a moan, you can't keep yourself quiet. His touch feels divine, silencing yourself would be blasphemy and yet his unoccupied hand hands you the same pillow you'd been admiring before.

"Bite it princess, you wouldn't want everyone to hear now would you?" His words feel like they're meant to tease you but right now, you'd agree with anything he told you. And so you bite down, the fabric feels weird between your teeth. As you do so, he picks up the pace, fingers dancing around inside you as if they're as desperate to please as you are.

And please they do, in Sero's eyes you're practically begging him to let you cum. He's never been one to deny a pretty girl.

Before you know it your pants are off and you underwear is pushed to the side. You hardly even registered him moving you onto your back. You certainly did register his breath on your cunt though.

His tongue made quick work of sucking on your clit and his fingers never did light up on the pace from before so you're screaming into the pillow as you cum on his face in no time at all.

His fingers keep thrusting as he speaks into your pussy, "oh yeah baby, give me all of it." Though he lets up as soon as you start whining in overstimulation.

He chuckles as you start fumbling around with the buttons on his pants. Even though you just came you had to feel if his cock could send you into outer space as well. "Damn (y/n), you want it that bad, huh? Maybe I let you smoke too much," he says, petting your hair as you finally get his pants off. Your hands are teasing his rock hard dick through his boxers. Once both of you manage to get out of the last of your clothes, you lean down attempting to return the favor. He stops you, "Baby, no, I'm taking care of you, remember?" He explains, urging you to lay down on your stomach.

He props a different pillow from the one you're holding up under your hips. Facing away from him is a double edged sword, you couldn't see him, but every touch he laid on you was felt tenfold. You shiver as he drags a finger up you spine, other hand firmly holding your hips in place.

"You ready for this pretty girl? Remember your surprise tool for keeping quiet." He's referring to the pillow but all though leaves your mind as soon as the thick head of his cock drags through your folds. You bite down on the pillow and hug it to your chest tightly.

He holds his cock up to your entrance and he finally pushes in. He moans quietly as he slips all the way into you, the sound would drive you mad if the feeling of him filling you entirely hadn't already. You'd had sex before but just as your kiss with Sero had been different, this was too.

He's only just pushed in and you already felt on the verge of climax. "Damn baby, you liking it that much? You're like a fucking vice," he tells you, both his hands coming up to your hips, pushing you down into the mattress so he could fuck into you.

You're making what you hope are small noises of approval and he seems to take it as a sign to really start fucking you, or taking care of you as he'd call it.

You hadn't been wrong, his cock was taking you to outer space if the stars you were seeing were any indication. You don't know how long he's pushing into you like that but you do know that before long he's pumping his cum into you with a deep groan, but not quite stopping before he feels you cum all over his dick again.

"See? Took real good care of you right?" He praises himself as he gets up. You're about to whine about him leaving when he comes back with a couple of napkins. "Sorry about this pretty girl, but I wasn't exactly prepared for this today," he apologizes. "I'd have at least brought wet wipes." He cleans you up as good as he can and the next hour or so is spent cuddling and snacking on whatever Sero puts into your hands. Before you know it you're dozing off.

You blink the sleep out of your eyes as you roll around on the air mattress, hands finding paper instead of a warm body next to you. You groggily get up, patting the bed until you found the note again.

Sleep leaves you quickly when you see the money taped to the note. You snort at what you read.

"Dear (y/n), my favorite customer.

Pussy too good to charge. Gotta go back to my small business now, keep the pillow you liked so much as a reminder.

And whenever you want more than just a reminder, call me.

xxx-xxx-xx"

You snort again at his antics before pulling yourself together and climbing out of his tent. You'd decided that it was for the best if you went back to your own tent for the night. Hopefully you'd find your friends there too.

You weaved through the crowd effortlessly now that you'd slept off whatever that stuff did to you. The walk over was giving you time to consider your night. It wasn't like you'd had a bad time, you bite your lip remembering it, quite the opposite actually. The only part that bothered you was the way you'd been ditched by your friends and left with a guy whose clear intent was to fuck you.

Your friends have quite something to make up to you, is the conclusion you come to as your arrive at your shared tent. You hear the commotion before you can even enter.

"How was I supposed to know that was THE slimetown freeloader?" your annoying friend called out. She had her hands buried in her face and she looked like she'd been crying.

"How about you just don't let random men BLINDFOLD you in our tent next time? That way they can't run off with our pillows!" Your other friend replied, obviously pissed off at the loss of the fluffy item.

The two of you take a bit to notice you but they gawk the second they see you hug the furry yellow pillow closer to your chest. "Where'd you get that pillow?" The question sounds more like an accusation coming from the pillowless girls but you're the one with a reason to be upset here so you just shrug and say, "Sero gave it to me, along with a refund and his number."

#Sero x reader #Sero x reader smut #bnha sero x reader #bnha sero x reader smut #mha sero x reader #mha sero x reader smut #tagging is so awkward to me lol #i never know which tags to put and which ones to not add #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x reader smut #i forgot homeboy had a first name too ngl lmao #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader #mha x reader smut

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camels-pen · 4 months

Text

warning: eating disorders/food issues

"Something wrong with it?"

Usopp startled and snapped his head to the side. His nose jabbed Sanji's eye and they both hissed. Usopp jerked away to rub the tip of his nose.

"Fuck, I forgot about that," Sanji grumbled. There was a contrasting, fond smile on his face as rubbed his eye. "Anyway, the food?"

"What about it?"

"What's wrong with it?"

Usopp turned his gaze back to his plate. Plenty of pork chops piled high- at Luffy's request for a meat-filled dinner- and mashed potatoes with green beans on the side. His mouth salivated again just staring at it.

"Nothing," he said. "Just taking my time."

He could feel Sanji's unimpressed stare. "You've been 'taking your time' through the whole dinner. Everyone's already finished and left. The moss ball even finished the dishes, and we both know how he likes to dawdle."

Despite himself, Usopp giggled quietly. When it was his turn to do dishes, Zoro always took his time, waiting for Sanji to get frustrated with his speed and leave him to finish it alone. It was the perfect strategy to steal booze when Sanji wasn't looking, but it seemed Usopp had unknowingly thwarted his first sake stealing attempt after their reunion.

As if reading his mind, Sanji said, "I let him steal that alcohol, you know. I'm not that stupid." He huffed, voice sounding like he was pouting as he added, "It's the only damn way I can keep an eye on his shitty drinking habits. He'd constantly drink us dry otherwise, that damn mossheaded bastard."

Usopp giggled again and made the mistake of glancing up at him. Sanji was staring across the room at the kitchen, probably the place he'd put all the good booze. He'd confided in Usopp, once, that he had two hiding places for drinking alcohol: one, more obvious place, by the fridge for the cheap stuff, and another, hidden somewhere he wouldn't say, for all the more expensive and high quality stuff. He'd confidently crowed, on more than one occasion, that despite the cheap stuff always going missing, he'd never lost a drop of anything else. He always looked so smug saying that, and well, Usopp now knew why.

But then his eye- the left one now, and despite looking right at it, the change had still caught him off guard more than once- turned to Usopp and Usopp clammed up. Sanji stared at him, his eyebrow- this one curled on the opposite side, closer to his nose bridge than his ear- raised high on his forehead. "If you're well enough to laugh at Zoro, it can't be that bad."

Usopp gulped. Looked away. "I'm not sick," he said quietly. "The food looks great, Sanji, really. Eating is just..." He trailed off. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, only the sounds of their distant crewmates enjoying the sight of their descent to the ocean's floor filling the galley.

Sanji's arm slowly, hesitantly, laid on the back of his chair- Sanji didn't used to hesitate, but, he supposed, things had changed. He settled himself in the chair next to Usopp, rather than continue to lean over him, and said softly, "Eating is just...?"

Usopp stared at the grain on the table, studying the lines and deviations with an intense and sudden fascination.

"Usopp."

"It's hard," he mumbled.

Another silence, this one less expecting and more confused. Awkward.

"You ate fine at breakfast...?" Sanji said, voice lilting up at the end, almost in question.

Usopp snorted. 'Ate fine' was a kinder way of putting it. Usopp had demolished breakfast, nearly rivaling Luffy with how much and how quickly he ate. The usual sense of desperation had dimmed slightly, now that he was with his crew, but it was still there, dictating his eating habits. He would've felt more ashamed if he hadn't seen Luffy, Franky, and Brook eating in the exact same disgusting manner. Instead, he felt right at home.

He had wondered, privately, if something similar had happened to them. Had tossed around the idea of asking them about it. Then he would think back to how they used to eat, before. How it was exactly the same. How they had all basically cried that they'd so dearly missed Sanji's cooking. He couldn't blame them, he nearly sobbed over Sanji's pancakes- and then did sob over his hashbrowns.

"The island got hungry at dawn," he started. Stopped. Stared at the little vase of daisies at the centre of the table that Robin had gathered from her garden- now shared with Usopp. "It would close up. Then open. After, everything was... safe. For a little while."

He gulped again, cringing at his dry throat. He stared at the glass of water, a little wet stain under it. Luffy had bumped his glass earlier when he stole a few chops off of Usopp's pile.

Usopp didn't reach for it.

"You know, I was expecting grand stories of your heroics when you finally talked about where you were." Usopp shrunk in his seat. "No- no, come on I didn't mean it like that. I was just trying to make a joke."

"You should leave the jokes to the experts." Usopp's lip quirked. "Even Brook's better than you."

Out of the corner of his eye, Sanji scowled. "Brook wouldn't know a good joke if it kicked him upside the head."

Usopp giggled again, relaxing. "Admit it, you missed his skull jokes."

Sanji huffed. "...Maybe a little."

In the background, they could hear Zoro talking about taking a swim followed by a familiar thud and Nami yelling at him. They both giggled this time, leaning into each other.

"God, I missed everyone. I missed-" Sanji cut himself off and Usopp turned to look at him. There was a wobble to his lips and his visible eye stared intently at him. Usopp would almost say Sanji looked longing- yearning, even- if he didn't know better.

"I know," he said. "I missed everyone too." Sanji's eyes pinched a little at the corners, but Usopp didn't know why. He didn't linger on it long though, what with Sanji's smile as he pressed his temple to Usopp's for a moment. Usopp's heart would've beat wildly two years ago, but now all he felt was warm and content.

Sanji hummed in agreement and pulled away. Patting his pockets, likely for a cigarette. Usopp pulled the one tucked behind his ear, admiring the feel of soft blond hair a moment too long before handing it to him. Sanji chuckled and accepted it with a quiet thanks.

He lit it and sat back in his chair, relaxing with the first inhale. "Back to the important stuff." Usopp would argue all of that was important stuff. "You only felt safe to eat breakfast?"

Usopp shook his head. Then tilted it side to side. "No- well, sort of. It was never really safe, but..." He rolled the words around his mouth, feeling out the right ones while discarding others. "It was... easier. To eat a lot in the morning. Gather food later in the day. Then sleep when I got hungry closer to sunset."

Sanji blew out a puff of smoke. "You didn't have anyone to watch your back while you were eating?"

"I did." Usopp nodded, a sense of pride filling him as he puffed out his chest. "Heracles'n was a great friend and teacher! We took turns watching out for each other and, well, he's the reason I survived that island in the first place." He flexed one of his biceps. "He also helped me get a whole lot stronger!"

Sanji pursed his lips around his cigarette. "But you didn't eat dinner. Or lunch." Today nor in nearly two years, though Sanji likely meant the latter.

Usopp deflated, arm settling back down in his lap. "We couldn't stop moving until sunset. By then it was better to sleep and eat heap loads in the morning rather than risk dinner and not getting enough rest." He sighed. "Heracles'n was always telling me to eat more berries and fruit throughout the day, but..."

Sanji stared at him. "You had this-island-is-too-scary-so-I-can't-eat-anything-itis?"

Usopp scowled. "I'd like to see you keep up an appetite when you're constantly running and hiding from giant-"

Sanji used his arm to tug Usopp closer, so their sides were pressed together. He pressed his nose to Usopp's hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"What for?" Usopp whispered back.

Sanji didn't answer, his breaths warming Usopp's head. The galley had grown silent when he finally spoke, the others having found quieter activities or retired to their rooms.

"If I was stronger then- or quicker-"

"Sanji," Usopp said. "There's no way you would've been able to beat Kuma, back then."

Sanji shook his head. "I know, but maybe we could've been sent somewhere together."

There was a bittersweet, choking feeling in the back of Usopp's throat. A burning in his eyes. "You wouldn't have liked it there," he said, laying his head on Sanji's shoulder. "You would've hated it, actually."

"But I would've been with you."

Usopp laughed, the sound wet and brittle. "I wouldn't wish that island on anyone, Sanji, but least of all you. I'm not worth-"

A hand cupped his face, cutting him off as he was turned to face Sanji. His nose was bent, pressing against Sanji's cheek. "You worth a lot, Usopp. You're worth it to-" Sanji's cheeks dusted pink all of a sudden and he looked away. "You're worth a lot. And it would've been nice if I could have watched your back. Made sure you were eating well."

At a loss for words, Usopp turned back to the table, staring at his plate. The mashed potatoes were surely cold and hard by now and he was fairly certain a thick pork chop wouldn't stay down.

The green beans, maybe. Those could work.

He picked one up. His stomach rumbled. He lifted it to his mouth.

His hands shook.

He gulped again. Stared at his hand intensely.

Sanji's hand covered his own. A sudden, terrible spike of anxiety overwhelmed him and he held his breath, hoping Sanji wasn't going to just force him to eat it. He hated wasting food after all and it was already in Usopp's hand and Usopp himself just needed to quit cowering and just eat it already-

Sanji pulled his hand away from his mouth. The tension left Usopp in a rush. Shame took up where anxiety had left, but he forced himself to meet Sanji's eye. He knew what came next.

Before Sanji could say anything, Usopp blurted, "There was food. On the island. Not just fruits and berries and whatever game we could hunt. Pre-cooked food, I mean." Sanji's brow furrowed, but Usopp continued on. "There were these plants- and rivers- that had cake and burgers and ramen and- well, you get the idea. And the closer you got to the centre of the island, the more tasty the food got." He gulped. Coughed a little. Sanji reached for his glass, but Usopp grabbed his wrist in a tight hold. If he didn't get it all out now, he never would.

"I didn't meet Heracles'n immediately. I was on my own at first and- and I didn't completely trust him at first either." He laughed, the sound as self-deprecating as it felt. "The centre of the island, that's where its mouth is."

Sanji's eyebrow furrowed further. "So when you said the island 'got hungry'..."

Usopp nodded. "It was a trap to lure in prey." Quietly, he added, "Like me."

Sanji gasped, his eyes darting down, and wow, Usopp really should've re-thought the whole 'show off his new muscles by going shirtless' plan. He pulled away from Sanji, and pulled up the waist of his pants. "Staring at my stretch marks isn't going to change anything, y'know."

Sheepishly, Sanji said, "Sorry- sorry, I should know better." He held out his arms, with a sad little pout. "Come back?"

Usopp held out for a few moments, glaring at him, but he sighed and eventually gave in. "I hate you," he mumbled into Sanji's shoulder. Sanji patted his back in response.

The two of them sat there in silence once more. Usopp savoured the contact between them, like he had always dreamed of on Boin.

"You had to train yourself to avoid delicious looking foods, then," Sanji said quietly. Usopp nodded. "That makes sense. But then, breakfast?"

A new wave of shame, far heavier than the last. He dug his forehead into Sanji's shoulder. "I don't want to talk about it."

He didn't know how to explain how he had become some kind of wild animal during meals and he didn't want to explain. Heracles'n was already one person too many and earlier, the entire crew had seen him. His heart beat hard and fast in his chest at the reminder, a belated rush of fear to make up for his single minded focus at breakfast.

"Then I won't ask," Sanji said. "You should tell Chopper though-"

Usopp grimaced. "Eventually, but..."

Sanji sighed, pressing his cheek to Usopp's hair. "Okay, but can I make you something? Just a snack or tea or...?"

Usopp huffed. "Sanji-"

"I know, I know! But letting you go to bed hungry is..."

"Hard," Usopp finished for him, pulling away. "I know."

He wasn't going anywhere before Sanji fed him, of that he was sure, but it made Usopp's stomach queasy just thinking about all the snacks Sanji used to make before they were separated.

Some of it must have shown on his face too, since Sanji was already holding up his hands and starting to look even more concerned. "It doesn't have to be anything special. I could just peel a tangerine for you or slice up some apples or juice some pears- I mean oranges! Why would anyone juice pears- oh, hm, I should check that sometime; remind me to write it down. Oh and maybe I could steep a really bitter tea, so you don't have to worry about drinking too much because I know you hate bitter things-"

And Usopp couldn't help himself. He laughed.

Sanji deflated, his brow furrowed in confusion, or maybe it was concern. Usopp didn't know, he was too busy laughing at the absurdity of Sanji being so anxious and speaking every rambling thought. It was adorable and Usopp couldn't help but reach up and squish Sanji's cheeks.

"I lo-" Sanji's eye widened and suddenly, Usopp didn't feel brave enough. "Lost my notebook. We'll have to use one of yours."

"O-Oh, yeah, sure." Sanji nodded, voice slightly muffled by his squished cheeks. He stared at Usopp, his eye asking another question.

Usopp looked away, his eyes landing on the fruit bowl on the bar counter. There were apples, bananas, and pears. He pulled his hands away. "...Nami will be mad at you." he said quietly, weakly.

Sanji sighed, a shaky, relieved little thing. He wrapped his arms around Usopp's middle, crushing him to his chest. "I think she'll forgive me," he said.

Boldly, Usopp added, "What if you made coffee?" The only coffee in the pantry was a fancy jar brought along from a Revolutionary base near a village that prided themselves on their harvest.

Sanji chuckled. "Robin would forgive me too."

Usopp hummed. "You seem awfully confident."

"I am," he said, pulling away completely, his chair squeaking against the floorboards as he stood. Sanji held out a hand, a smile on his lips. "If you don't believe me, let me show you."

And right here, Usopp could've chosen to laugh it off. Said something about not wanting to face Nami's wrath, much less Robin's. Fled the galley completely with an excuse or three and sleep in his workshop while ignoring any and all feelings of guilt. It would've been easy.

But he'd already accepted it. Acknowledged the inevitable consequences instead of turning down those anxious suggestions. How could he do anything else, in the face of such genuine care and concern? To leave now would just hurt them both and the last thing Usopp wanted to do was hurt Sanji.

And, well, he trusted Sanji, to do what he couldn't. Planned to trust him with his heart, at some point.

Trusting him with his stomach, in comparison, was as easy as breathing.

So, Usopp placed a steady hand in Sanji's own, a small, teasing smile on his face, and said, "Lead the way."

#one piece #sanuso #sanji #usopp #meant to be pre-relationship but can be read however #nemo the writing ho #side note: dear god this ended up way longer than intended #had a nice time writing them being gay though 💚#gotta remember to put this on ao3 later #belated tag i forgot to add but this was inspired by redriotinggg's post the other day #i was POSSESSED with the need to write after reading it lmao

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