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miguelhugger2099 · 1 month

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Quiet Loving

Summary: Miguel loves you and your little family so much.

A/N: made seconds before I fell asleep last night

In the comfort of your husbands arms, you buried yourself closer—it was never close enough in your opinion.

Miguel shared the same sentiment, his beefy and strong arms were firm around your body, tugging you closer in his lap. One arm around your waist and the other cradling your head in the crook of his neck.

When he held you like this, he felt at peace. He didn’t know how else to explain it other than that it felt right. It felt like it mattered—the only thing that mattered. He leaned into to smell your hair, your signature shampoo scent invading his senses and calming his nerves.

Miguel tightened his embrace around you. You were never close enough.

He loved you dearly. Too much, it was borderline concerning to others but not to you.

Footsteps patted down the stairs of your home. Lifting your head from his neck, Miguel groaned—missing the warmth and weight of you. He felt like half of his puzzle piece was missing.

You looked over to see the culprit of the loud unstable stomps down the steps. Your daughter Gabriella, in her purple pajamas, was holding her baby brother, Isaac. Your eyebrows knit in worry to match her own expression.

“Que pasó, mija?” You call out to her and she stands in front of you and Miguel on the couch. Gabriella bounces Isaac in her arms while he babbles and coughs.

“Zee-Zee woke up and I tried putting him back to sleep but…” She holds the baby out to you when Isaac winds up to start crying.

You quickly take your baby boy in your arms and cradle him to your chest. Miguel carefully shuffles you off his lap and tugs his daughter to him.

“I didn’t…I thought I could help Mami.” She whispers to her father. Miguel gives her a soft smile, reaching up to pat her head before ushering her in his lap.

She crawls into his embrace, resting her back on his chest and her head leans on his shoulder. Miguel brings his arms around his little girl, ignoring how bigger she’s gotten since the last time he held her like this.

“You did help Mami, mijita.” Miguel coos. His hand squeezes her tiny shoulder. “It’s the thought that counts. Did he just wake up?”

Gabriella shakes her head. “He was awake for a bit before I realized he wouldn’t sleep.”

Miguel nods and looks over at you as you held his son in your arms. His heart swells with love and pride. He couldn’t ask for a better woman to be the mother of his kids. He couldn’t ask for a better wife to be married to him. He couldn’t ask for a better person to spend his remaining days with.

“Well, I think you did a pretty good job. He didn’t start crying until he saw Mama right?” Gabriella nods. “That means Isaac knew you were there for him. And you knew to bring him to Mama so when he saw her, he felt safe enough to start crying. You did your part, corazón.”

Gabriella sighs, not feeling convinced. Miguel pokes her chest where a purple star was printed on her pajama shirt.

“And I’ll even ignore the fact that you were supposed to be sleeping.” He whispers next to her ear and Gabriella giggles.

“Sorry, Papi.” She mumbles bashfully and hides in his neck. Miguel’s heart softens. He could never be mad at his princess. His hand pets her hair which lulls her to sleep. She was still at an age where early bedtimes were a must, her little body unable to handle staying awake past 10:30.

“It’s okay. It’ll be our little secret.” He whispers as she yawns and snuggles close to her father, her chubby cheek squished on his firm chest.

You look over and grow amused at the sight. A tough man with scars and hard features, turned into putty when his little girl was curled into a ball in his arms. He always held a soft spot for his firstborn—his princess. Miguel’s eyes meet yours and they brightened. No matter what, however, you held most of the space in his heart—his queen.

“Bed?” You asked him softly as you rocked Isaac in your arms. He nodded and you both got up from the couch to head upstairs to their room. Miguel grunted as he moved Gabriella carefully, tucking his arm underneath her legs to carry her bridal style. Gabriella got even not comfortable and Miguel noticed how heavier she’d gotten. He bites back a smile, a soft twinge of melancholy as he realizes how much she’s growing.

You place Isaac in his crib, making sure to wrap him snuggly in his blanket and surrounding the corners and walls with pillows in case he rolls around. Miguel puts Gabriella down gently in her twin sized bed, tucking her blanket up to her chin and plopping her stuffed teddy bear by her head.

Miguel feels you wrap your arms around his waist, you head between his shoulder blades. Miguel grows goosebumps along his skin and he can’t resist the urge to turn around to face you. He cups your cheeks and leans down to pepper your smiling face with kisses. You stifle giggles, not wanting to wake the children.

“Miggy..!” You whisper to him but he only takes you back into his arms where you belong. The only way to stop him from showering you in his affection was when you physically pulled him off you, your hand ins his hair. He has a dopey grin on his face, a look of utter bliss of just putting his kids to sleep with the woman he loves. The woman he had these beautiful babies with. The woman who gave him these beautiful babies. He could never thank you enough.

Miguel shuts the door behind him, making sure all lights are turned off and double checking that the kids are asleep. Back in your bedroom, Miguel is on you once more. His body weighs on top of yours while he kisses you deeply and lovingly. If you two were younger, it would’ve delved into intimacy—stripping off clothes and having to cover your moans with his hand.

But these kisses were anything but lustful. They were a love letter, a language that only you two understood. Miguel spoke of his admiration for you, not just for your body but for your mind and soul. Each kiss was gentle and left no room for longing when he added another kiss immediately right after the other.

His hands pulled your body up to him. No matter how hard he tried he was always unsatisfied that you weren’t close enough. It was never enough. He wanted to drown in you, worship you and be one with you. Some call him obsessed.

He sighed after one final kiss, but even then his lips lingered above yours. Miguel’s eyes followed each scar you had, each freckle or mole, the color of your lips—oh, he adored it all.

“Te amo, te quiero.” He whispered, hurriedly like he needed you to know even when you already did. He was hopelessly in love with you.

“I love you more.” You whisper back.

“Impossible.”

You smile, knowing that Miguel would always want to win this game of who loved each other more. He was so stubborn it would go on for days. When you relented, he rewarded you with love—kissing you silly until you were breathless. Despite being the “loser”, you always felt like the winner at the end.

Miguel rests on top of you, your hand in his hair as his nose breathes by your neck. Your fingernails scratch his scalp and he hums in delight. His thumb rubs up and down your skin by your stomach. He feels the scars of your stretch marks and the rest of the chub you had gained from pregnancy. You never got a second of doubt in your mind when all Miguel did was remind you how gorgeous you were to him.

He lazily presses more kisses to your neck until he grew too sleepy to move. Miguel had grown comfortable in your arms while you held him and his weight felt nice—especially when he could be switched out with a blanket.

Miguel finally falls into a deep slumber and you follow suit, his hand slowly coming to a stop.

A/N: i feel like if miguel hugged me i wouldn’t be mentally ill 🤔

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #miguel o'hara imagine

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nocandnc · 2 years

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So Last Boss is nice and all but I dunno if I really—

WAIT HOLD THE PHONE.

COULD THIS BE...

A SIDE PAIRING!!!?!

#i'm the villainess so i'm taming the final boss #taming the last boss #akuyaku reijou nanode last boss wo kattemimashita #isaac lombard #rachel danis #curse my shipping heart #random babbling

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bandtrees · 7 months

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AFTER A ROUGHLY NEGATIVE ONE HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN WIN STREAK STRAIGHT OF JUST GRINDING TAINTED LOST GREEDIER

HE’S DONE IT.

#babbles #the binding of Isaac #YEAAAAGHHGGGAAAAAA

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squigglewigglewoo · 7 months

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(✧) warnings: sexual content, rough sex, choking, oral (fem receiving), breeding kink(?), jealous sex, biting, marks, hickeys, manhandling, semi public sex, fingering, these men are mean, suicides mentioned once (it's dazai, what did you expect), possible objectification, thigh riding, degradation, dacryphilia, edging, orgasm denial, teasing, name calling, overstimulation, drinking, no dick for y'all today, afab reader, no pronouns used, pretty girl and good girl used like once, entirely not proof read. tell me if I missed anything. MDNI 18+ NSFW bellow the cut!

(✦) summary: what happens when someone gets just a little too touchy feely when they're around? 1283 words~

(✧) (a/n): this is entirely self indulgent, wrote it at midnight within an hour and edited it once I woke up, so I apologize is it didn't make much sense. lost my train of thought when it came tho fyodor so his part might be shorter than the others.

(✦) pairings: chuuya x fem!reader, dazai x fem!reader, fyodor x fem!reader, mentions of nikolai x reader. no uses of pronouns.

(✧) listening to~ fan behavior by Isaac Dunbar

chuuyas hands were on you the moment you two set foot in your shared penthouse, the gingers hands slipping to the back of your thighs as he throwing you into the bed, his coat and hat half hazardly discarded along the way, your heels thrown onto the ground as his hands slide your dresses skirt up. his gloved ginger traces over the crotch of your panties, the cloth already damp with your slick from your arousal, earning a mean chuckle from him as his finger flicked over your clothed clit. you felt almost ashamed to admit you found it attractive, the way he was near silent as he toyed with you, a cross between a smirk and a scowl on his face as he watched you squirm. "oh? so wet already? and yet you were talking to him while I was gone, hmm? what are you, some common street whore looking to be filled?" god, how could you have forgotten the reason you where in this position in the first place? being left alone as chuuya went to get another drink, only for the executive return to find his seat filled by the one and only dazai osamu, the brunette happily chatting away, one of your hands between his bandaged ones as you giggled, laughing at whatever nonsense the suicidal maniac spewed. oh, how you wanted to desperately whine and explain that you didn't even know the man, that he had just sat down and didn't listen when you said you already had someone, that your boyfriend would come back any minute. your desperate, babbled attempts to get out words is cut short as the man moves your lace panties to the side, shoving a finger inside you while his thumb rubbed lose and painfully light circles on your pearl, just enough to make your breath hitch, but not enough to be satisfactory. when had he taken off his glove? your thighs clamp shut around his hand, only earning a tsk from chuuya as his, still gloved, free hand spread your legs apart, so far it was painful, muscles burning and aching to rest. "oh? y'wanna cum? to bad, only good girls get to cum." his skilled fingers curl into you, just grazing over the spot that makes you see stars, making you claw and bed for him to please, pretty please stop being so mean and just fuck you already. he only laughs, his hand tightening its grasp on your thigh tighter as he leans over to ghost kisses along your neck, his voice quiet but rough, another finger slipping into your sopping cunt, curling and earning a breath moan from you. "not yet, doll. I'll fuck you when you remember who this pussy belongs to, yeah? or am I gonna have fuck you pregnant to make you remember? god, you'd look to beautiful like that though, everyone would know who you belong to, then."

dazais slender, bandaged hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you away from the bar where you had sat all pretty, innocently talking to the barkeep, the man flirting with you while you where completely oblivious to it, or plain ignoring it. you let him guide you, a soft "ah-? 'samu? are you alright?" falling from your lips as he pulled you into the bars bathroom, locking the door before picking you up and pushing you onto the sinks counter. the brunette fell to his knees infront of you, uncharacteristically quiet ad he unbuttoned your slacks, eyes wide as he shimmied them to fall to the ground, onto of your shoes, your underwear following lead and hanging from your ankle untill he pulled them off and stuffed them in his coat pocket, hooking your legs over his shoulders as his hands gripped at the juncture between your hips and thighs, squeezing softly as he laps experimentally over your wet folds. he watches you squirm, one hand covering your mouth to muffle the breathy gasp, thighs trembling and threatening to close around his head. "god.. you taste so good, sweetheart, all f'me." his gaze flickers upwards, a teasing smirk overtaking his lips before he pulls away from your pussy, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs, sucking and biting marks into the skin. soft whines and whimpers turn into mewls and quiet moans, sounds growing in volume as you slowly forget that your still in the bar. "shh.. wouldn't want someone to hear you, now would you?" punctuating his sentence with a bite to your inner thigh, his lips move to wrap around your clit, one hand moving from the fat of your thigh to slip into your gummy walls, curling and scissoring almost immediately. the pleasure near overwhelming as your thighs clamp around his head, one of your hands threading into his hair and pulling slightly as loud, muffled moans fall from your lips, your eyes shut as his other hand squeezes your thigh, nails digging into your skin. you tremble as your orgasm washes over you, dazai still eating you out like a starved man, licking up your release untill you weakly pull him away from your cunt by his hair, the man licking his lips as he stands between your legs, hands on your hips as he kisses you. you can taste yourself on his tongue, a soft mewl being pulled from you as he pulls away, burring his face Into you neck as he murmurs. "don't you think you taste good, pretty girl? thats something only I will ever taste, it's all f'me, that pesky barkeep will never even get close to touching you. you're mine, baby, you understand that?"

the cold hands on your hips rock you back and fourth, making you grind against fyodors thin thigh as you whimper and whine out "'m sorry"s for something you dont even know your apologizing for, tears bubbling in your eyes as your hands weakly grab onto his shirt. "oh? you're sorry? you didn't seem sorry when you were dancing with nikolai, now did you, you little tramp? all giggly as his hands roamed your body and spun you around as if you aren't mine to love, to hold, not his." fyodors hands tighten their grasp, near bruising in strength as his lithe fingers dig into the plush flesh on your hips, making the pace quicker and the pressure against your clit harder. the fabric of his pant leg is damp, the color deeper in saturation where your slick drips down, the material brushing against your clit and drawing soft gasps from you. your head falls, resting on his shoulder as you whimper and whine, hips bucking slightly rougher against him untill he holds you completely still, taking away every ounce of pleasure you had once had. "tsk.. I thought you would behave, but it seems not. am I going have to fuck your manners back into you, мплая?¹" his tone is harsh, mocking even, that sly smirk on his face as he tilts your head up to look at him, hand moving from your chin to your throat, squeezing lightly. the action pulls a soft squeak from you, the noise being swallowed as he kisses you, and you can't help but rock your hips against his thigh once more. though this time, he lets you, the hand that was on your hip moving to rub tight, quick circles along your clit. he pulls away from the kiss for a moment, his breath ghosting over your face as your eyes flutter open, looking up at him with a near pleading gaze. "oh? what a needy little thing you are. well go on. get yourself off on my thigh. little sluts like you don't deserve to get fucked."

Masterlist!

¹darling

dividers by @/cafekitsune

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

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This may be a bit of a strange idea (Feel free to ignore this request)

But since your about Jaime Tartt baby fic. I had the thought of Jaime trying to give reader a break takes the baby in a stroller to training with Roy and Roy is just kind of like WTF and other hijinks ensue like maybe someone flirts with Jamie with the baby or roy gets left with the baby at somepoint or Reader is freaken out cause the baby is gone. IDK just an idea that has been stuck in my head since I read your baby fic

Dude this request was not strange AT ALL. It was actually nice because it was similar to something I wanted to write, and I haven’t been able to do that because I’ve been doing requests. THANK YOU.

i’ll still be right next to you my dear

Your daughter Bea is five months old. You’re still sleep-deprived, but less than you were a month ago. Jamie does his absolute best as her dad and your husband, but the weight of it still falls to you. Things have gotten considerably less tense, too, since you moved out of the flat and back into your house. It was weird at first, both you and Jamie walking on little eggshells around each other.

The tension was broken with an all-hands-on-deck moment at 1am, when Bea had a stomach bug or something, and you two had no choice but to just laugh in resignation at the sheer enormity of the mess she made. There go the beginnings of sleep training.

Bea had her own schedule, one that involved being an early bird like her dad. She would wake up five to ten minutes before his 3:30 alarm went off, and it got to the point where he barely even set it anymore.

Jamie would get out of bed, throw on some pants, change her, and then zip through his morning routine. He’d put her back to bed, give you a half-awake kiss, then be out the door before Roy could knock.

(Roy made that mistake early on, waking Bea. You thoroughly chewed him out in an exhausted rage. Jamie says it’s the closest thing he’s ever seen to Roy crying).

Anyway, at 3:55 this Saturday morning, Jamie kisses you, says, “I’ve got Bea, so sleep in,” and is gone before you even know what’s happening.

You flop back on the pillow and are out in seconds.

—

“The fuck is this?” Roy says the moment Jamie steps out the door, pushing a happy Bea in her jogging stroller.

“The fuck does it look like?” Jamie replies. “Her mum needed sleep, so Bea’s joining us for training.” He leans over the stroller to look at his daughter and coos, “Isn’t that right, angel?”

Bea makes a delighted gurgle and Roy grunts.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me the great Uncle Roy is daunted by a silly wee baby?” Jamie says, grinning. “You are Bea’s favorite.”

Roy glares at Jamie. “Don’t fucking lie to me, everyone knows Sam’s her fucking favorite. She even likes fucking Isaac better than me.”

Jamie pouts. “Don’t listen to him, Bea. We know you love Uncle Roy, even though he’s being a twat.”

Roy just grunts and looks at Bea. “You know how I feel about you, kid,” he says. She babbles. She knows.

“Alright, come on. Suppose the stroller gives your dad some extra weight while he runs.”

Jamie grins, and starts jogging down the street.

—

You wake up to the sound of silence. No Bea, no Jamie. Just birds chirping and the sun shining. You squint at the clock. 8:37am. You reach for your phone and see a selfie from Jamie of him, Bea, and Roy marked 7:02am with the caption, headed to breakfast!

You now have a hazy recollection of Jamie saying something about taking Bea when he left, but it felt like a dream at the time. The silence makes more sense now.

You smile and send heart emojis. I love you! you type.

love u 2, Jamie replies. Then: I hope that was for me not Roy?

You shake your head. That boy. He thinks he’s a comedian.

You roll out of bed and stretch. Time for a nice, long shower, then a good coffee from Jamie’s complementary espresso machine. You’re not gonna lie, there are certain perks to being married to a footballer.

—

Meanwhile, Jamie and Roy have stopped for breakfast at a café that Roy says fits in with Jamie’s diet. He says no coffee and Jamie makes a disgusted face and replies you’re not the boss of me, which is why they’re letting Bea decide if Jamie gets coffee or not by seeing who will get her to smile first.

Jamie wins, of course. It’s part of being a dad.

They’re sitting at a table outside till 9am, Bea out of her stroller and in Jamie’s arms. They’re on their third cups of coffee and Bea’s draining her bottle of formula like there’s no tomorrow. Jamie is in the middle of stroking Bea’s nose (a miniature version of yours) and watching her eyes blink slow, when two girls walk up to their table.

“Ohmygod, no way, is that your baby?” one girl asks.

Jamie looks up and gives a polite, perfunctory, “yeah,” and turns back to Bea. Roy’s sitting back in his seat, ready to watch this unfold.

“It is like, so totally adorable. There’s something so sweet about a baby, don’t you think?” the other girl says, putting her hand on Jamie’s shoulder. He shifts away as politely as he can.

“I just think that like, men with babies are so much hotter than men without babies,” girl 1 continues, oblivious to Jamie, who has shifted Bea onto his chest and is displaying his left hand as conspicuously as possible. He taps Bea’s back with his ring finger in what he hopes is an absentminded manner.

Roy holds back a snort.

“Especially single dads,” says girl 2. “Soo hot. I’ll give you my number if you ever need a babysitter.”

She’s barely done speaking when Jamie blurts out, “I’m married.” He looks so harried that this time Roy can’t hold back a laugh. The girls turn to him with a glare, then back to Jamie.

“She doesn’t have to know,” says one of them.

“Pretty sure she does,” Jamie replies. “And anyway, I ain’t interested. Have a good morning.”

Bea, the angel that she is chooses that exact moment to start burping.

The girls give her a disgusted look and turn away.

Roy looks at Jamie, eyebrows raised and a ghost of a smile on his face. “Nice fucking move with the ring finger,” he says. “If it were me, I’d’ve fucking given them a different fucking finger.”

“That’s where you and me differ, granddad,” Jamie replies, wiping spit up off his vest (waterproof, thank god), “I’m a gentleman.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

—

The windows are open, the laundry is spinning, and you’re dancing around the house. You love Bea, but god you also love good rest. And a clean house. And Jamie Tartt. Man, you love him. You can’t believe he took Bea out for the whole morning and knowing him and Roy, they’ll be out until at least 11am. You smile. That gives you time to head to the shops and pick up some flowers, which will make you feel like a civilized human being, one who has her life together and can take care of her child and her husband and maybe, just maybe, one who is in the mood to get laid tonight.

—

Jamie and Roy are strolling through Richmond, passing by shops and enjoying what feels like the first lovely day in ages. Jamie hasn’t heard from you since you asked is this shirt clean or dirty? with a picture near the washing machine. He knows Saturday cleaning is like a ritual to you, one you picked up in high school and carried on through college. You have a system and you take your time, windows open and music playing. He can picture you spinning around the house putting things away, and that mental image is enough to make his face split into a smile. He remembers the Saturdays you spent before Bea, you cleaning and dancing, and him, well, not helping but certainly dancing with you and promising that he’ll give you more dirty sheets to wash if you’d just take a tiny little break? In the bedroom? With no clothes on because they need to be washed, wink wink?

It usually worked.

You’d lay in bed for precisely ten minutes afterward, take a no-nonsense shower, then kick him out of the house. He’d be gone for an hour, buying you that chocolate you liked and whatever flowers he thought suited the day. There’s a good thought. He should get you flowers, a reminder of their early days of romance. And maybe, just maybe, Bea can sleep soundly enough that they can revive other traditions, too.

“Roy,” Jamie begins.

“No.”

“Oi, you didn’t even let me finish!” he says indignantly.

“Fine. What do you fucking want.”

“It ain’t for me,” Jamie says, “it’s for Bea. And my wife. I want to get her flowers, but it ain’t easy to push the stroller and look. Can you take Bea around the green? I’ll come find ya when I’m done.”

Roy stares at Jamie, and Jamie is sure he’s going to say no. But then Roy walks around to the front of the stroller and crouches down in front of Bea.

“If your dad fucking goes and gets flowers for your mum, do you promise to be alright for twenty minutes? I know I’m not fucking Sam or Isaac, but Phoebe thinks I’m a good uncle. She’s a proper fucking dweeb, but a good judge of character.”

Bea just stares at him. Roy slaps his thighs and stands up. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Jamie grins and says, “Bye, Beatrice. Be good for Uncle Roy.” He gives her a kiss on her forehead, a boop on the nose, and is gone, weaving through Richmond, man on a mission.

“Your mum’s a fucking saint for putting up with him,” Roy says to Bea. Bea says nothing. She’s fallen asleep. Roy shrugs and starts pushing her in the direction of the green. Better asleep than crying.

—

You’re showered, dressed, with just a touch of makeup, and you’re on your way to the flower shop. There’s this little one you and Jamie used to go to. You know the owner a little, but you suppose Jamie knows her better because he’s been in more. She’s about the age of his mum, and has a soft spot for him. He overpays and always leaves one flower for her. He hasn’t had the time to be over since Bea, so you say hello and show her some baby pictures, and then some of Bea and Jamie. You both laugh over your favorite, Jamie passed out on the couch, mouth open, wearing gray sweatpants and a single sock, with Bea on his stomach in a gray onesie and a single sock. She’s drooling on him and his hair’s a mess, but you think it’s adorably hilarious. Like father, like daughter.

Now, you’re perusing the flowers. It smells wonderful, the warm weather diffusing the fragrances through the shop. You turn a corner and bonk straight into a man with his back turned to you. You open your mouth to apologize and he turns, and out comes, “Jamie?”

He smiles and you peer behind him. “Where’s Bea? Oh my god Jamie, did you lose our daughter? She had better be close by, I swear to god, Jamie Tartt, how do you lose an entire baby, especially one as noisy as Bea?!”

You’re oblivious to Jamie’s attempts to interrupt your rant, so when you pause for a breath he says, “love.”

You turn to face him, from where you were trying to stand on your tiptoes hoping for a glimpse of Bea’s stroller.

“I didn’t lose her. She’s with Roy. D’you really think I’m that irresponsible?”

He looks so hurt that you realize what you’ve been saying. Your hands fly up to your mouth. Of course Jamie wouldn’t lose Bea. He loves her. He looks at her as though she makes the stars shine.

“Babe. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just wasn’t expecting to see you, and then I wasn’t expecting to see you without Bea, and I thought I’d surprise you by getting flowers before you both got back, and-” you stop. Jamie is gently holding your face and smiling, no longer hurt.

“Babe,” he says, “love of me life and best mum around, it’s ok. I know whatcha mean.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Bit funny we had the same idea, innit?”

You smile. You’d been so caught up in your split-second worry about Bea, you didn’t even realize what was happening.

“Guess some things don’t change,” you reply. “You pick out any good ones?”

Jamie places his hand over his heart. “Love. I only pick out good ones. I picked you, didn’t I?” You laugh at his sparkling eyes, and put your hands on his waist, pulling him close.

“Pretty sure I picked you,” you reply.

Jamie hums. “That’s a fuckin lie, and you know it.”

Your feeble retort is cut off by his lips on yours.

—

You and Jamie walk toward the green, hand in hand. He’s holding bright yellow daffodils in the other.

Jamie spots Roy first. “Oi!” he yells, “look who I found!”

You wave, jog over to Bea, and crouch down. “Hi baby! I missed you! Did you have fun with Uncle Roy?” Bea babbles at the sound of your voice.

“Oh good,” you reply, “he is your third-favorite uncle, after all.”

Roy nods. “You fucking get it. Jamie tried to feed me this fucking bullshit that I was fucking number one.”

“Jamie!” you say. “Everyone knows it goes Sam, then Isaac, then Roy.”

Jamie puts his hands up defensively.

“Honesty,” Roy says, “Such an admirable quality. Remind me again why you’re with this fucking prick?”

You pretend to think for a moment then say, “For his money.”

Jamie says “Oi!” so you quickly amend, “And his smokin’ hot body.”

Jamie nods, satisfied. “That’s better.”

Roy is looking at Jamie in disgust. “You two are so fucking adorable, it’s fucking disgusting. C’mon Bea. I see Sam over by that bench. Let’s give these fucking idiots some time alone.”

You and Jamie turn to each other.

“He said we’re adorable,” you say, grinning.

“He said we get alone time,” Jamie says, grinning back.

“Roy!” you call, “how much time do we have?”

“Three hours!” Sam yells back. “I want to walk Bea to my restaurant!”

You and Jamie turn back to each other, giddy.

“You know what that means,” you say.

“Sex,” he replies immediately.

You laugh and grab his hand. “C’mon, babe. Let’s enjoy our alone time.”

As you walk away, Jamie says, “Oi, need to tell you about these girls who were trying to flirt with me. But don’t worry, I gave them the finger.” He holds up his ring finger and you slap his arm.

“This is why I love you.”

“Really? And here I only thought you were with me for my money,” he replies.

“And your hot body. Don’t forget that one,” you say.

“How could I forget?” he says. “When we get home, let’s put it to some good use.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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