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pandorasprongs · 11 months

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JAMIE TARTT | i'd be better armed if you agreed to take it.

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.0k

SUMMARY: higgins' new assistant happens to be an old friend of the reader's, and their reunion hits jamie with major feelings of jealousy. when the team thinks that the pair of them are going on a date soon, jamie decides enough is enough.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: i actually like this story a lot better especially the dialogue! + jealous!jamie was really fun to write HAHAHA i hope that all of you enjoy this and title is from the song '(you) on my arm' by leith ross :) also i apologize in advance i'm not the best at writing kissing scenes

You loved your job, truly. This was the first time you've had a decent, no, fucking amazing boss that didn't make you want to pull your hair out every time they called you into the office.

But being Rebecca's assistant also meant that you sometimes had to help Higgins out with... well, whatever the Director of Football Operations does. It was fine in the beginning, just scheduling appointments and keeping track of ticket sales, but once Richmond got promoted, it felt like your work doubled.

It only took two weeks before you begged Rebecca to get Higgins an assistant of his own. Luckily, she obliged and asked Higgins to start interviewing possible candidates for the job.

You hoped that whatever extra load you got due to Higgins occupying himself with selecting an assistant would be worth it from how much would be lifted off you when he did. So when you got the message from Rebecca to help delegate your duties to the new assistant, you practically ran to the clubhouse that morning.

You were too excited messaging your boss that you'd be there soon that you ended up bumping into someone near the entrance.

"Shit!" You exclaim as you almost lose your balance, but are steadied by the other person who turned out to be Jamie.

"Ay, watch where you're going, yeah?" Jamie warned casually, as he let go of your arms once you recovered.

"Sorry, Jamie." You straighten up and walk in with him. "I'm just really excited. Higgins finally picked an assistant and they're here today."

"Oh yeah, you were fucking drowning in work a few weeks ago." And by drowning, he meant it literally. The football player recalled seeing you walking past the locker room carrying a stack of papers taller than you were. You refused any help from the team, partly because they had to get to training and mainly because you didn't want them to see how the tear stains on some of the pages.

"Yeah," you chuckle at the memory. "But, after a few days of helping the new kid out, I'll finally be free." You stretch your arms up in the air and cheer. You were too busy celebrating to notice how soft Jamie's expression had become.

He loved seeing you act yourself around him, a big jump from when you used to glare at him around the office. He had denied it for a while, but Jamie started to like you around the time he'd gotten back from Man City.

You knew him before then, when he was a massive prick who stepped over — even literally at times, — his teammates. But after he returned, you felt bad for the guy for how the rest of the team was treating him, no matter if he deserved it. Ted had told you about what they talked about when Jamie approached him about joining the team again, and a part of you felt like he needed at least some kind of welcoming presence in the building.

You started greeting him more often when you ran into each other in the halls and sometimes offered him the candies you keep in your desk drawer whenever he passed your desk, just small things. Jamie would usually just end up hanging out with you during his breaks because he didn’t have anyone else to spend it with. The first few times, he would just sit there in silence while you worked, but one “How’s your day going?” from you, and he was more than willing to chat.

Then, of course, he gradually regained the team’s trust and started hanging out with them, but even then, your little interactions with him didn't stop. He'd invite you whenever the team had a get-together and would sometimes drop bags of candies at your desk to "re-stock" your drawer. You just thought it was his way of returning your kindness. But what you didn't realize was that the star football player was starting to fall for you.

Jamie tried to ignore it, saying to himself that he just felt indebted to you, but then it started to manifest in different ways. How he would try and come up with reasons to approach you the next day, how he'd get distracted whenever you had to visit the pitch during practice, and how your awkward habits became something he looked forward to. It's been a while since he felt like this about anyone and was more anxious about rejection than he's felt about any of his games, so he didn't make any obvious pass at you.

So now, as you asked the receptionist where the Director of Football Operations was, Jamie decided to wait for you to spend as much time with you as possible.

You notice Jamie staying back and relayed the information to him. "Higgins is introducing them to the team, so I guess I'll be going with you to the locker room." You nudge him with your shoulder as you continue to walk through the building. You've always tried your best to ask casual with Jamie, possibly in an effort to make yourself feel normal around him and not constantly blushing every time he looked at you.

As you approach the room, you hear Higgins explaining what the new assistant would be doing for the players. "So if ever you need help with anything I've listed, you can go to Anthony Perez here, instead."

Anthony Perez. No fucking way. You and Jamie enter the locker room and are instantly greeted by the sight of an old friend.

"Anthony, you fucking bastard!" You scream enthusiastically, causing everyone in the room to turn to you, including Anthony. It takes him a second before registering who you were. The moment he does, he raises his arms and you practically leap into him for a hug.

"Oh my god!" Anthony exclaims, as he lets go of you and puts you down.

"I didn't know you were the new assistant!" You lightly smack his arm.

"I didn't know you even worked here!" He defends himself as the two of you turn to find the entire team's eyes on you, including Jamie's.

"Shit, sorry," You laugh as you make some distance between you and Anthony. "Didn't mean to make our reunion so dramatic."

"I assume you two know each other?" Higgins asks and you both nod.

"Anthony and I went to school together," You quickly explain. "From sixth form to uni. Of course, I haven't heard from him in two years." You jokingly glare, causing him to roll his eyes.

"Sorry, I got busy, okay?" He whispers an apology before you both chuckle again.

"Well, I hope your friendship will make it easier to help him get accustomed to the job." You smile at Higgins before the three of you excuse yourself to let the players get ready for training.

You're so engrossed in catching up with Anthony that you didn't even notice the look Jamie was giving him.

"They seem close!" Dani innocently says as he puts his shoes on.

"You don't think something is going on with them, do you?" Colin chimes in.

"Well, she's never even mentioned him before, so I doubt it," Sam argues, but Isaac shakes his head. "Nah bruv, that hug was way too intimate for just friends."

"I've seen her hug Keeley and Rebecca like that, too. That might just be how she greets her friends." Jan offers and the team continues to debate it, but at that point, Jamie has had enough. It was already shit having to watch that interaction, but having your teammates talk about it as you pretend not to care? It could not get any worse.

Jamie pulls out a can of body spray from his locker and slams it closed, before turning to everyone. "Can everyone just stop talking about it and get ready?"

The room goes quiet, as the football player turns around and starts getting changed. The rest of the team exchange looks, before getting ready themselves. Most of them had a hunch that something was going on between the two of you but didn't have any proof, until now. They just hoped they were wrong about you and Anthony, in an attempt to stop Mt. Jamie from erupting.

——

For most players, if something happened right before training that put them in a sour mood, it would mess up their performance on the pitch. Of course, Jamie wasn't like most players. He might be playing even better during that training period. The coaches didn't even have to give him the signal; he was already in 'prick' mode.

Maybe it was the appearance of Anthony or the fact that you had never been that excited to see him even though he thought you guys were becoming close, but he was playing aggressively and was much more focused than he needed to be for a practice game. The coaches started to take notice after he viciously tackled one of the second teams.

"Whistle!" Roy shouts, pausing their game. Ted takes a step forward and shouts, "Hey Jamie! Love the passion, but those are still your teammates. Ya'll have a game next week, so better save that attitude for the real one."

"Okay, coach!" Jamie replies through gritted teeth. He takes a deep breath as they continue to play, trying to calm himself down. Ted was right; there was no point in taking out his anger here. Not when the source of said anger was just inside the building.

Once the morning session was over and they were off for lunch, Jamie headed over to Rebecca's office, expecting to see you waiting at the desk outside like you usually were, but instead, he almost runs into the owner of the football club.

"Jamie!" Rebecca exclaims, backing away from the football player to avoid a collision. "What brings you here?" He only needed to glance at the empty table for her to know what was going on. "Oh, well, if you're looking for her, better head to Mr. Higgins' office. She's helping his new assistant get used to the system."

This causes the player's jaw to clench. Jamie mutters a quick thanks before heading to the Director of Football Operations' office, where he found you hunched over a chair and directing something on the laptop to Anthony.

You had spent the first hour of the day basically catching up with Anthony about what you've been doing the past few years. Once you ran out of stories though, you were forced to actually start teaching him what to do.

You started with the simple things like how to organize the emails, fixing the schedule, and what information to take note of, so you could ask your bosses' about it. Anthony's a quick learner, so you guys were making good progress. Once he practically mastered the routine, the two of you went to the clubhouse cafe to get some early lunch. Most of the food there was pre-packed and they’d usually just microwave it, but over the years, you've developed a fondness for them. You bring back the food to Higgins' office and continue to work on it till you hear someone clearing their throat.

You perk up when you realize who it came from. "Jamie! Hi, what're you doing here?"

Jamie's eyes bounce between the two of you, before settling on your own. "Well, I checked your desk but you weren't there, and Rebecca said you'd probably be here, so I went over here. And now I'm wondering if you wanted to get lunch?"

You move to say yes, but quickly back out when you remember the wrappers on the desk. "Oh, sorry Jamie, Anthony and I just ate something from the cafe cause we wanted to spend the lunchtime working on some emails. Maybe another time?" You try and hide the disappointment in your voice by giving Jamie a small smile.

Jamie's expression falters, but he quickly bounces back. "Sure, no problem. Bye," The football player waves at you — and just you, — before heading back downstairs. He shouldn't be acting like this. Feeling this dejected someone saying she can't have lunch with him?

You weren't fairing that well, either. Your shoulders slump once he disappears from view, then you turn back to Anthony who seems to be holding back a laugh. "What's with you?"

"Nothing, just amused at how even two years later, you still don't know how to talk to the guys you like."

You scoff at his response and hit his shoulder. "What do you mean? I do not like Jamie." You protest, which only causes Anthony to roll his eyes.

"Oh please, it's like you transformed back to a seventeen-year-old the way you got excited when he asked you to get lunch with him." You shake your head, but he continues. "It's clear as day that you have a crush on him."

“That word makes us sound like we're seventeen again," You retort, before redirecting the topic back to the task at hand.

But you knew he was right. Even back in the early days of working here, you couldn't deny that you found Jamie attractive. Anyone with eyes could see it, but he was dating Keeley and was a massive prick, so nothing ever came about from it.

Then, he started spending more time with you, checking up on you and stopping you in the halls just to chat. You realized that he was actually pretty sweet when he was off the pitch and you started to realize that you wanted to spend time with him, not just out of pity like before. Plus, you don't think he's seen anyone in a while, so there really was no reason for you to deny your feelings any longer.

Except, of course, the fear of getting rejected by him and ruining the steady and comfortable relationship you currently have. Which is a good reason, you think. You shake your head and try and continue your work in peace.

After spending your lunch writing up reports, it only took another hour to finish up both your and Anthony's duties, so the two of you update Higgins on your progress and ask if you could observe practice for a bit. He scans through your work, before happily letting the two of you go. The moment you get to the pitch, your eyes instantly look for Jamie who is doing pretty well, to no one's surprise. You join the coaches where they’re standing.

Anthony was already a big football fan, so he was able to recognize almost all of the players on the pitch. In fact, he was even saying things that you weren't aware of, despite your three years of working for the owner of a football club. He bends down to whisper a joke in your ear, but the amusement never hits because soon after, you hear O'Brien groaning in pain. You both look up to see Jamie already helping the goalkeeper up after kicking the ball right into his stomach.

"Whistle! Tartt, stop fucking injuring your teammates!" Roy shouts, to which Jamie quickly apologizes. The practice game continues, but not without you leaning to ask Beard something.

"Coach, is Jamie okay? He seemed fine when I was with him earlier," You turn your head, as Beard continues to watch the practice.

"He's been playing like that all day. Something must've pissed him off." You open your mouth to say something, but Beard reads your mind. "No, we did not give him the signal." You nod before turning back to the game.

You meet Jamie's eyes as he runs across the pitch, and you take the opportunity to give him a smile and a thumbs up, hoping it encourages him somehow. He only nods his head in acknowledgment before continuing, but you can tell in the next few plays that he seems to be calming down. After a while, you and Anthony decide to head back to the office after Rebecca asks you to send some emails on her behalf.

Jamie watched the two of you head back to the building and tried to ignore that growing feeling when Anthony leaned down and rested his arm on your shoulders. He tries and shakes himself right before continuing the game, ignoring all the possibilities of why he’d do that.

The real reason was that Anthony had decided to tease you, whispering close, "Somebody likes you," in a sing-songy voice. "And his name is Jamie Tartt doo-doo-do-doo—"

That exact remark makes you jab his side. "Shut the fuck up, Anthony. He does not." Anthony lets it go as the two of you reach your desk and he leaves you to do your work, though you can't help but feel warm inside at the thought of it being true.

—

Once he gets changed after training, Jamie practically ran upstairs to find you. Usually, he'd offer to drive you home and before Anthony, you'd be too tired to be polite and say no. He stopped himself from sending a message to you once he realized that you had already left. Maybe she's with Anthony, but Jamie shakes his head because fuck that. Jamie Tartt does not get hung over a girl. At least, the old him didn't.

New Jamie had been starting to hope that you stayed in the office longer just so he could see you again, even if you would be busy doing work. He sighs as he decides to leave the building when someone jumps in front to scare him. "Boo!"

"Jesus fucking Christ," he exclaims and steps back before seeing you losing your mind over his reaction. "What'd you do that for?"

"I'm sorry," You apologize in between your laughing fits. "I didn't realize how easily startled you were." After a few more seconds, you finally straighten up and lift two plastic bags.

Jamie gives you a confused look, before you explain, "When we went to watch training, Coach Beard said you've been playing like that the whole day which can only mean one thing; you're in a shit mood. And you don't have to tell me why, but,"

You hand him one of the bags and one whiff tells Jamie it's from that Indian restaurant he loves. "I thought some dinner would cheer you up," Jamie gives you a genuine smile, one you got used to seeing but always love when it shows up. “Because there’s nothing rich people love more than free food.” You add, causing him to roll his eyes.

"Plus, I wanted to make up for not having lunch with you, and celebrate the fact that I now actually have the time to do this again." You continue as the two of you walk over to Jamie's car.

You get in the passenger seat as Jamie turns the car on. The two of you have shared dinner there multiple times before, so you practically had a system for it, and Jamie always "pays you back" by giving you a ride home. You open all the dishes and Jamie quickly starts to devour it.

The two of you enjoy the dinner in silence, — except for the occasional "Pass the pita," or something of the sort — till Jamie decides to ask the burning question that’s been on his mind. "So, how did you and Anthony get so close?" It was an innocent question, but one whose answer could either ease Jamie's thoughts or amplify them ten-fold.

You look up at him, mid-bite, and quickly swallow the food, before replying, "Well, you already know we went to school together, but we were actually seated next to each other for a whole semester, so naturally we became close since we saw each other every day."

Jamie starts to clean up the empty containers but signals you to continue. "To be honest, I kinda liked him back then." Oblivious to how tense Jamie just got, you laugh. "But the crush didn't last long honestly, cause I realized that he wasn't really my type."

Jamie takes the opportunity. "What is your type, then?"

"Oh, hot footballers, naturally." You decide to give a somewhat honest answer, but cloak it in a layer of sarcasm to hopefully throw Jamie off. "Like Richard," You try and convince Jamie with your tone, but you can barely hold in your laughter afterward.

"Oh fuck off," Jamie rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh even harder. "I'm telling him that tomorrow."

"Jamie Tartt, you fucking wouldn't!" You spend the rest of the ride to your flat trying to get him to promise to say nothing, which ends with a pinky promise to secrecy.

—

The next few days are a mix of hanging out with Anthony, eating meals with Jamie, and finishing up work so you can spend the rest of the day chilling at your desk. You almost forgot what it felt like to have free time and actually relax during work breaks.

You arrive at the clubhouse and immediately head to the Coach's office as per Rebecca's instructions to deliver some documents for the season. There, you meet up with Anthony who also had to bring something to Ted.

When you realize the coach hasn't arrived yet, you decide to wait outside the locker room. Anthony turns to you. "Hey, I forgot to tell you yesterday, but Mina's visiting!" Mina was Anthony's girlfriend and also your former classmate, who once again, you haven't seen in two years. You perk up and ask when you’d get the chance to see her.

Anthony pulls out his phone before responding, "I can make a reservation for us somewhere at, 7 pm?" You quickly scan your mental to-do list and once you realize your schedule is free, you nod.

"Yeah, that works! We'll both be done with work, anyway."

The two of you are busy planning out your meeting with Mina that you don't notice Isaac and Colin eavesdropping as they make their way to the locker room. From the snippet that they heard, it sounded like the two of you were planning a night out, confirming their suspicions that there was something going on between the two of you.

They share this with Sam, who tries to reason with them. "Friends can go out to dinner without it meaning anything!"

But as they continue discussing it, the more it becomes harder to deny. I mean, the two of you were always together and not to mention, your shared history. They try and hide this from Jamie, — partly to save themselves from the football player's wrath during training, — but once the morning session was over, they crowd him and quickly explain the situation.

At this moment, Jamie didn't even protest their assumption of his feelings — he had accepted that he wasn’t the best at hiding it from them, — and simply stayed silent, which was incredibly worrying. They decide to leave him be and walk back to their lockers, trying to figure out a game plan. They thought you and Jamie would be great together and a guy from your past was not going to stand in the way of their teammate finding someone, not if they have anything to do with it.

Soon after, Anthony enters the locker room and calls out to Sam. The pair walk away to talk and Anthony starts, "Do you happen to have an open table at Ola's tonight? I'm planning to take someone special there and I know how great the food is."

"Well," Sam considers saying that they're fully booked — which big chance, they are, — and there's nothing he could do, but his guilt at even the thought of lying takes over. "Sure, don't worry." Anthony smiles and thanked the player before heading out, but not before promising that he'd send him the proper details later.

Sam heads back to his two teammates and explains what happened, to which Isaac suggests booking the whole restaurant for the team, crashing their date, and making sure they have no alone time together. Colin adds that they can possibly put something in Anthony's food to force him to go home earlier, which Sam quickly shuts down. They turn to Jamie to get his input, only to find an empty bench instead.

Said teammate was already making his way to your desk to talk. Maybe it was the adrenaline from practice or the fact that he drank three cups of coffee this morning after Roy's training session, but he wasn't going to let you go on that date without saying something.

Jamie makes it up the stairs and finds you typing away at your computer. You meet his eyes for a second, before warning, "Hold on, I'm just finishing this email."

The football player decidedly ignores that statement and exclaims, "Don't go on that date." That gets you to save the email as a draft and look up from your screen. Jamie walks closer to you and you stand up, and steer him to a remote corner. If this was what you thought it was, you’d rather not have the entire office witness it go down.

"I'm sorry, what?" You try and clarify.

"Look, some of the boys told me that you and Anthony are going out tonight and I," Jamie takes a breath, "I couldn't let you go through with it. At least, without admitting that I like you. I have liked you for a while now. I didn’t realize that someone could be so sweet and funny and attractive. It’s fucking insane actually, which is why if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying to spend as much time with you as I can. And I know it’s stupid of me to not have admitted it till it’s too late, but if by chance you feel the same, then please do not go on that date and instead, maybe go on one with me?”

You take a step back. The guy who you've secretly been pining over for how many months at this point is now trying to stop you from going on a "date,” and so the only thing you can do is stare at him. You stay like that for a second before regaining your senses and taking his hand into yours and giving him a small smile. "Jamie…"

If there was any right time to admit your feelings, this would be it. You open your mouth to continue, but hear Anthony call out to you. You peek over the corner and when Anthony spots you, he quickly shouts, "Look who stopped by!" and moves to reveal Mina.

"Oh my god, you're here!" You exclaim, but turn back to Jamie who has stopped in his tracks and is still holding your hand. You quickly excuse yourself, "It's so nice to see you, but could you actually give me a minute?"

The couple gives you a curious look before Jamie peeks his head over the corner and Anthony immediately understands. The two of them go back downstairs, and you assume Anthony uses the time to explain to Mina what’s going on.

You turn back to Jamie, hoping that the moment isn't ruined, and find the football player still looking at you intently. You decide to get on with it. "Jamie, I don't know why the team thought we were going on a date, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. The girl you just saw is Anthony's girlfriend, Mina, who we also went to school with." Jamie makes an 'o' with his mouth in realization and you lightly chuckle at his expression.

"She's visiting him for the weekend and we're planning to go out to dinner, the three of us, to catch up. I'm basically going to be a third-wheel all night." At this point, Jamie's expression is a cross of embarrassment and anger, likely directed at his gossiping teammates.

Your mind replays Jamie’s confession earlier. "Jamie, did you mean what you said?" Your voice is practically a whisper, but you just have to be sure. "Like right before we got interrupted?"

Instead of giving you a solid answer, Jamie lets go of your hand and cups your face before connecting your lips. It was a soft and gentle kiss as if the football player was still hesitant, but once you reciprocated it, Jamie's confidence came right back. Fuck, and he had every right to be as cocky as he was. He was an amazing kisser.

You're pressed up against the wall, almost getting lost in it, but you break apart to stop it from escalating further when you feel Jamie's hand travel to your thigh.

"Is that enough of an answer for you?" He asks, resting his forehead against yours as you take hold of his forearms. You simply roll your eyes at how easily Jamie returns to his usual self.

You peak down the corridor and thank the universe that no one passed by during this. The two of you separate and decide to head back downstairs — with Jamie never letting go of your hand, — so you could properly greet Mina.

As you walked, you decide to jokingly question, "Were you really that worried about me going on a date that you had to go all rom-com and tell me not to go?"

Jamie protests, "Well, it's more of the boys' fault, isn't it? They're the ones who got in my head." He pauses for a second. "And don't act like you never wanted something like that to happen to you."

You jab his side and Jamie pretends to be in pain, before laughing it off and slinging his arm on your shoulders. You wrap your arm around his torso. "Only if it's 'one in a million' Jamie Tartt doing it."

You finally find Anthony and Mina in the locker room, with the former introducing her to the players there as his girlfriend. Jamie enters to find the three culprits, looking guiltily at the couple. Minutes after Jamie left, Sam had gotten a text from Anthony saying that their reservation was for three and explained that you were coming along for a reunion dinner with his girlfriend.

The moment they see the two of you enter the room though, Colin, Isaac, and Sam can't help but share a satisfied look, only to be ruined by the glare Jamie sends their way. You laugh at the exchange and only remove yourself from Jamie to greet Mina. You give her a tight hug, confirming Jan's observation that you did greet most of your friends like that.

You pull Jamie towards you and introduce him to Mina, who shares the same teasing look as Anthony. The couple waves at the team to leave and get lunch together. They invite you to join them which you accept, but not before grabbing and squeezing Jamie's hand as a goodbye. The three of you walk away, discussing nearby cafes and restaurants. You hear some cheering from the locker room and you can't help but laugh at how easily the boys reconcile.

Once there's enough distance between yourself and the room, Anthony leans down. "Guess you finally figured out how to talk to boys."

"Who knew it would be Jamie fucking Tartt that managed to get you out of your shell?" Mina adds and you roll your eyes at the pair. They really were made for each other.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanficition #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tart fic #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfic

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medecineformelancholy · 22 days

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For Gemini by Jimsnose on AO3.

I was so very grateful to be asked to draw something for this lovely story. It's a Ted/Trent gala fic with some gorgeous dreamy imagery, sharp metaphors and as much angst as you can imagine (and it's so good!) And a happy ending as a treat.

Thank you Jimsnose for your amazing writing💜

#jimsnose #tedependent #ted x trent #tedependent fic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso #trent crimm #ted lasso fanart #ted lasso fanfic #fanart #art #my art

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jamietarttsnorthernattitude · 6 months

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Is there a service I can sign up for where someone just titles my fics? Because I would pay a boatload of money for that. K thx.

#writing #writing problems #writers #title ideas #ted lasso fanfic #whumptober problems

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midnightfictionlibrary · 10 months

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Tennessee Whiskey - Jamie TarttxFem!Reader

Tennessee Whiskey - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Content : tenderness, flirting, friends to lovers, love triangle, jealousy

Word Count : 1.7k

Plot Summary : Out at a quirky themed bar with the team, Jamie approaches the reader to apologize for what he deems as dickish behavior. Flirty words turn to a tender moment, but the reader doesn’t realize someone else is pining after her.

A/N : This was a fun piece to write! Still on my Jamie Tartt bs, bc I love him so much. As always, pls like and reblog if you enjoy it, and let me know if you would possibly want a part 2??

Music drifted through the speakers in the tiny, hokey, Southern American themed bar, and you sighed, eyeing Ted and Beard singing along jovially. You took a sip of your sickeningly sweet sweet tea, just the way you liked it. You had come along to London with Ted and Beard to continue your job as their personal assistant. Let’s face it, they needed help keeping up with everything that needed to be kept track of, and you were the one for the job. Sure, you were younger, but you had proven yourself a capable office manager back in Kansas.

Your view of the two men was obstructed by another, admittedly more handsome man. Jamie. Your breath hitches slightly, and you cover it with another sip of your drink. You had grown a friendship with the young player, and considered him someone you could go to for anything and everything. What Jamie didn’t know, however, is that you had deep feelings for him, and care about him more than anyone else.

“Hi Jamie!” You chirp, setting your empty drink glass on the bar. Jamie peers at you, looking at the drink you had sat down. You rarely drank alcohol, so this was a rare form for you. You follow his gaze, snorting slightly. “It’s sweet tea, no alcohol. What brings you to my dingy little corner of the bar?” You ask, stepping a bit closer to him, feigning needing to hear him better.

“I came to apologize.” He says, his lips close enough to brush your ear. You pull back, eyebrows knitting together out of concern.

“Apologize for what?” You ask, going through every interaction you had with him recently, coming up short. “You’re worrying me, Jamie.” You say, studying his face.

“I feel like I’ve been a prick lately, and I’m sorry. I’ve been stressed about the Man City game, and you know me dad-”

You hold up a hand to stop him. “Jamie, you haven’t been a dick to me at all, ok? I get that you’re stressed, and your dad sucks. But you haven’t been any less kind to me than you’ve always been.” The hand you held up moves to squeeze his hand.

“You’re too good for me, love.” He says back, lifting your hand to his and kissing your knuckles slightly. You try to pretend that your heart didn’t skip a beat, and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Please. You flatter me.” You wave your hand away, as if to say he needn’t mention it, that’s what friends are for.

But Jamie moves closer to you, your torsos almost pressing into each other. In this dingy bar, the low light accentuates Jamie’s handsome features, and you gaze up at him, an eyebrow raised.

“I really mean it. Even when I was bein’ a little prick all the time when you and Ted and Beard first got to Richmond, you were nothin’ but nice to me.” He shrugs. “And I never thanked you.”

“You really don’t have to thank me, I’m glad I forced you to be my friend.” You flash a grin at him, which makes him laugh, looking away from you slightly while he absorbs your presence. When his gaze finds yours again, it’s considerably softer.

“Darlin’, I was putty in your hands the first time you bossed me around.” You snort incredulously, and he laughs. “I was. You got on me arse about being on time and it kicked me into gear.”

“You were stressing Ted out, and a stressed out Ted is a stressed out assistant.” You confirm. “Jamie.” You say, looking at him. “Did you really come to seek me out just to tell me you’re glad I yelled at you the first week we met?”

“Of course not. I needed an excuse to come talk t’you.” He murmurs, absentmindedly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You never need an excuse to be near me.” You breathe out, and you’re faintly aware of a slow, sweet country song playing in the background. You clear your throat, drawing back slightly from him, “I love this song,” you say, tucking your hair behind your ear and trying to change the subject at hand.

"You're as smooth, as Tennessee whiskey, you're as sweet as strawberry wine..." the old jukebox plays, and you close your eyes a moment.

Jamie doesn’t respond, he takes your hand delicately and leads you to the small dance floor. Your heart pounds, wondering what this change in Jamie is all about. Of course, the two of you were friends. But he had never been so tender with you. You were usually the one giving hugs, patting hands, brushing hair away…did he actually mean to be this sweet and touchy-feely with you? Or was he drunk? Jamie draws you close, holding one of your hands to his chest while the other wraps around your waist. He rests his head against yours and murmurs something you can’t quite hear.

“Hm?” You manage to squeak out, a little more high pitched than you meant to be.

“I said, I always want to be near you. I know you only think of me as a friend, and I get it, but I wanted you…”He clears his throat, “wanted you to know.” He finishes.

You pull your head back to look him in the eyes. “What makes you think I only think of you as a friend?” You say softly, raising an eyebrow. “Because I don’t.”

Jamie knits his brows together. “You don’t?”

You can’t help but let out a laugh. “No! Why would you think that?” You look into his eyes again, and the sight of you making eye contact seems to instantly soften his gaze again.

“Because you’re…well, you.” He says. “Always seemed too busy to get involved with an athlete, not to mention one that you’re friends with.”

“I must be good at hiding the fact that I am desperately drawn to you, then.” You say, causing Jamie to smile and press a kiss to your temple. “Jamie.” You say.

“Yea?” He responds, rocking the two of you gently to the music.

“Kiss me.”

Nothing else needed to be said. Keeping a hold of your hand pressed to his chest, Jamie draws his face back to look at you. When he sees that you’re being serious, he presses his lips to yours. Slow, sweet, longing. You bring your free hand up to rest lightly at the back of his neck, and when he breaks the kiss, you keep it there. It’s intimate, familiar.

Jamie pulls you close again, resting his head against yours. “I guess this makes us more’n friends, yea?” He whispers in your ear.

You laugh, nodding along. “I guess so.” You reply, blushing happily as the two of you danced in the low light.

“Good luck gettin’ rid of me, love.” He says playfully, peppering your face with kisses as you laugh.

A low growl escaped the burly man’s lips as he watched Tartt slowly spin you on the dancefloor.

You seemed to be deep in conversation, and he feels Ted and Beard both looking at him.

He sighs, setting the beer bottle in his hand down on the bar with a clink signalling the cowboy hat clad bartender to swap it out with a fresh, full one.

“I heard a growl there, Roy.” Says Ted, who then looks over Roy to catch Beard’s attention. “What’s got this one more riled than a junkyard dog, Coach?” Beard jerks his head towards you and Jamie, swaying slightly to the music, and Ted breaks into a smile.

“Well hey, isn’t that nice?” Ted says, earning a glare from Roy. “By that look I’m collecting that you don’t think that’s nice.” He states.

Roy just grunts again in response, lifting his bottle to his lips, his eyes watching you.

Beard shrugs. “Seems like you might have a crush.”

Ted nods knowingly. “Well, I could have told you that, Beard. You seen the way Roy looks at her when she comes into our office? Like she’s the sun, I’m telling ya.”

“Oi, shut it, you two.” Roy interjects, “and don’t pretend I can’t see the sly look the two of you are about to give each other. I’m not in denial about it.”

Ted and Beard look at Roy, waiting for him to finish his thoughts. Rushing him would just get them a “fuck off!”. So they had learned to wait.

“The thing is- I know she’s special. And clearly Jamie does too. Clearly we have the same taste in women.” Roy grunts as he watches Jamie pull away to look you in the eyes. He clenches his jaw, trying not to appear more jealous than he already was. “She’s just…she’s great. And I like her, okay?”

Ted and Beard exchange another look and Ted clears his throat slightly. “Listen Roy, we know she’s great. Wouldn’t know which way was up without her, but maybe you should actually try talking to her if you want her to like you.”

“How do you mean? I talk to her!” Roy says indignantly.

“Grunting in response to questions she asks you isn’t considered talking to her.” Beard chimes in, Ted nodding along and pointing to his long time friend.

Roy isn’t listening though. He’s watching Jamie lean in and kiss you, your hand reaching to cradle the back of his neck. It felt like everything stopped. He didn’t realize just how much he liked you until he saw you happy with someone else. Thinking that should be him. And that made him feel like an utter prick.

“Fuuuuuccckkkkk.” He groaned. This was not good.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #roy kent x reader #friends to lovers #pining #longing

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illiterateaffairs · 1 year

Text

DISTRACTIONS III | YOU’RE KINDA CUTE

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

rating: T

word count: 5,528

summary: so you’ve just had a one night stand with one of the star footballers on the team you work for. you can be totally normal about it, right?

A/N: ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO IS READING AND LEAVING THE NICEST AND FUNNIEST COMMENTS, I ADORE YOU ALL! this is kind of a long one, and i finally dip into jamie’s POV, which I’ll do more in the upcoming chapters. also as you can tell, this series takes place in season 3, but very loosely. like, roy is just going to have to deal with sharing jamie with the reader and not hogging him for training :)

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

Waking up the next morning is harder than you thought it would be. It's not because of the champagne flutes you were knocking back at Sam’s restaurant. In fact, you feel the most comfortable and well rested you have in a long time. It’s because of this that you absolutely loathe the idea of opening your eyes and getting out of bed when your alarm goes off at 7AM. Instinctually, you’re quick to turn off the grating noise, but when you begrudgingly try to sit up, you’re held down by a weight you don’t recognize. Opening one eye, you see it’s a person and their arm is wrapped securely around you. And not just any person; Jamie fucking Tartt.

After pushing through your grogginess, you’re able to recall the events of last night; driving home with Jamie, kissing him and inviting him inside, sleeping with him. It was so out of character for you to hook up with a guy you barely knew. Sure, Jamie wasn’t a stranger and he wasn’t a complete jerk, but normally you wouldn’t even consider having sex until at least the third date. Not that you were planning on dating Jamie. That would be absurd.

You didn’t regret it though. If there was one thing about Jamie’s reputation that he could be proud of, it was that he was indeed good in bed. Excellent even. It's probably why you slept so well last night. Even if Jamie came off as a bit self-centered, he definitely wasn’t when it came to knowing how to please you.

Your eyes narrow, flashing back to a brief moment last night after the two of you finished round three. Did you say…thank you? God, you hope it was just something you thought in the haze of it all before falling asleep.

Brushing past that, you angle yourself toward him more, as well as you can pinned under his left arm. Your eyes scan his face as he sleeps soundly beside you. He didn’t seem at all disturbed by your phone alarm a few moments ago. You’re not used to seeing the man so relaxed, because when you’re with him he’s either focused on playing football or annoyed with Zava. But right now he looks at peace. Glancing over, you also take note of his sleeve tattoo for the first time, tracing the designs on his arms lightly with your fingers. You’re once again confronted with the fact that you know so little about this man, and yet here you were in one of the most intimate situations you can be with a person. Observing his face again, you wonder what the two of you will do now. Jamie’s probably done this a million times, but you certainly haven’t. And you work together; you’ll see him everyday.

You’re momentarily pulled from your anxious thoughts as Jamie lets out a long, quiet breath, but doesn’t wake. For a second, you’re distracted by how cute you find him in this moment. No. No. You are not getting attached to Jamie. This was a one time thing. That's all you wanted. That’s probably all he ever wanted. And you’re in no shape for a relationship right now.

You take the risk to test just how heavy of a sleeper Jamie is, sliding out from beneath his arm. You mentally cheer when he just rolls over and continues sleeping. You quickly throw on a robe and some clean underwear before tiptoeing out of the room. In an effort to calm your nerves ahead of an impending conversation when he does wake up, you decide to make breakfast. Normally on work mornings you’d settle for something light, like toast or oatmeal. However, those meals will not take long enough to provide ample distraction from your racing thoughts. So, you decide in addition to toast that you’ll make some omelets. And bacon for good measure; Jamie probably likes bacon. You also wash some fruit because why the hell not.

Everything is plated on your kitchen table when you hear movement from back in your bedroom. You’re pouring yourself a glass of juice when Jamie wanders into the room, buttoning up his shirt from last night. Before turning to face him, you psych yourself up and plaster a smile on your face. Be casual. However, once the two of you make eye contact, you both freeze and say nothing.

After a few seconds of silence that feel like hours, you force words to come out of your mouth.

“Apple juice?” Nice.

Jamie’s head jerks back in surprise, but a barely there smile forms on his face. “Apple juice? That’s what you’re offering?”

You shrug, deciding to push past how bizarre this is and try to roll with it, “What? It's the superior juice. Sorry I don’t have tea. I don’t really know how to make it- or care to- since, you know, it's disgusting.”

Jamie laughs softly, but gives you a curious look. You must’ve not done a good job at acting normal, because it seems he caught onto your nervousness, “You alright?”

You let your shoulders drop and decide to be honest, “I’m sorry, I just…I’ve never had a one night stand before.”

Jamie quirks an eyebrow, “You don’t say?”

You smile in spite of yourself, “I know, such a shocker, right?”

The footballer takes a moment to glance at the table behind you, “Well, first thing you should know is that most people don’t make breakfast for their one night stands.”

Despite saying that, Jamie takes a seat at your table and starts chewing on a strip of bacon. You roll your eyes playfully, but join him.

“I cook when I’m nervous,” not letting him linger on that admission you question him, “What about you? Do people usually stay the night after a one night stand?”

Jamie smiles through mouthfuls of egg and cheese. “Are you kicking me out?”

“No!” You assure too quickly, “I guess I’m just wondering what you’re thinking. And wondering how I’m going to look you in the eye at work to be honest. Like I said, I don't usually do this kind of thing.”

“I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about. And I promise it won’t be weird. We can just carry on and keep making fun of how annoyed Roy gets at Ted’s jokes.”

You let yourself laugh as you push a grape around your plate with your fork.

“But last night was okay?” Jamie asks, showing his first hint of unsureness, “It was good for you, yeah?

“Oh yeah,” you nod eagerly, touched that he was a little nervous too, “Last night was…really great.”

“Good,” he smiles again, “Just want to make sure it was at least a step up from the last guy.”

You snort, “Try five steps. At least.” You turn back to Jamie and a satisfied smirk is growing on his face, “Oh, don’t let that go to your head. That is not a difficult accomplishment, trust me.”

“Well, like I said, it’s good you left him.” You nod in agreement.

The two of you chat for a few more minutes as you finish up your breakfast. You get up, wanting to grab a shower before work.

“Can I walk you out?” you ask.

Jamie shakes his head, “I think I remember the way.”

You nod with a tiny smile as he heads toward the kitchen doorway, “So, I’ll see you at the club then later, probably?”

“You will.”

You bid each other a goodbye, but as you turn to put your dishes in the sink, Jamie speaks up again.

“Oh, and one more thing. You’re welcome.” Jamie shoots you a wink before leaving you alone.

Fuck, I did say that out loud.

You know you’re being paranoid but it feels like everyone is staring at you when you arrive at the club later that morning. There is no reason anyone would know that you hooked up with Jamie last night but you can’t help but feel your face get hot as you pass coworkers on your way through the halls. You’re so in your head that you fully run into Sam on the way to your office. You can hardly meet his eye as he enthusiastically greets you.

“I hope you slept well last night.”

“What?” your eyes bulge in panic and you laugh awkwardly, “Why would you ask that?”

Sam gives you a weird look, “When you were leaving, you said you had been exhausted so I was just wondering if you were more rested today.”

You relax; you did say that. “Oh, right. Yes, thank you, I slept great last night. Amazingly. Not too amazing. Just a normal good night's sleep. Snug in my bed. Alone.”

Sam still seems confused by your energy, but nevertheless smiles again. He seems none the wiser as he jogs off to the locker rooms before training. However, once he’s out of your view, your eyes lock onto Rebecca’s who had been watching on from behind him. Her expression lets on that she’s definitely onto you.

“Good morning,” she greets pleasantly, with a mischievous look, “Can I walk you to your office?”

You don’t even try to argue as you lead her down the hallway in silence. You try not to roll your eyes as she makes a show of getting comfortable on the couch in your office.

She wastes no time once you shut the door. “So, you had sex last night.”

You groan, lightly pressing your head to your office door, “How could you possibly know that?”

“I always know,” Rebecca shrugs, “You look a lot less tense today.”

You turn to her sharply, “You’re saying I looked tense before?”

“Not in a bad way. You just look lighter today. And very suspicious.”

You walk over to her, crossing your arms. “Okay fine. I slept with someone. But I’m not telling you who it was.”

Rebecca stares at you for all of five seconds before she says, “Jamie?”

You let out an exasperated sigh as you plop down on the couch, burying your face in a cushion, “How do you do that?”

The blonde woman gasps and sits up a bit straighter, “I was going to say it's a gift, but maybe it's a curse. Jamie was just a hunch, since he left the restaurant last night a couple minutes after you did. You actually had sex with Jamie Tartt?”

You peek out at her from behind the pillow, “Yes?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighs.

“What's so wrong about that?” you move to sit up, hugging the pillow to your chest. “I haven’t been with anyone since Mason, and the opportunity presented itself with Jamie. Don’t I deserve a good time every once in a while?”

“Of course but with Jamie?”

“He’s not that bad,” you protest softly.

Rebecca nods, “I know that. Jamie is a good guy. I just wonder if he’s good for you. When he was with Keeley-”

“Oh, my God, he dated Keeley?” you gasp, covering your face with the pillow again. Muffled you murmur, “Is she going to hate me?”

“No, Keeley will not hate you,” Rebecca assures, playing with a few pieces of your hair to coax you back up to her, “I’m sure she could care less what Jamie does. That’s my point - he was not a good boyfriend when they were together.

“Well, that’s my point. I’m not looking for a boyfriend. It was just a one time thing. I just needed to distract myself from spiraling over Mason.”

Rebecca still feels unsure, but she gives you a tight smile and nods. “That's fair.” She reaches out to take your hand, “I know you don’t like talking about it, but if you ever need to vent or talk through anything regarding your breakup, I’m always here. You know that I get what all that's like.”

You smile, giving her hand a squeeze. “I know. I appreciate it, but I think I’m alright for now.”

“Good.”

“One more thing though. Can you not tell…”

“I promise I will not tell Ted.”

You grimace, “Okay, him too. I was actually going to say Keeley. I know that's asking a lot since she’s your best friend, but I don’t want to risk losing her friendship over a dumb one night stand.”

Rebecca gives you another reassuring smile, “I won’t tell her either.”

“Thank you.”

“Just call me Rebecca Welton: keeper of your secrets.”

“Oh, my God, I am so sorry.” you sigh, “I need to stop doing things I don’t want other people to know.”

Rebecca laughs, squeezing your hand one last time before standing up, “You are fine. You’re young. You’re allowed to be messy and have secrets.” She smooths out her attire as she grabs the doorknob. “But you need to relax and stop acting so weird around the office. You had sex, so what? That's not a bad thing. You don’t need to shout it from the rooftops but you can be proud of it.”

“I’ll do my best,” you laugh. She nods encouragingly before heading out the door.

You do feel yourself walk with your head held a bit higher after that.

The rest of your work day goes a lot better. You help Rebecca with some paperwork, shadow the team during training, and round out the evening by having dinner in your office with Ted. The only time you saw Jamie was during their practice. He didn’t act out of the ordinary, so you didn’t either, both of you exchanging polite smiles like you always did.

You don’t notice the way he looks over at you a few times between drills.

Now you and Keeley were headed to the locker rooms, with coffees in hand, to assist Shandy with the Bantr video shoot. You’re proud that you play it totally cool and don’t manage to accidentally confess you’d hooked up with her ex last night.

As if Father Time knew when you were coming, Jamie is the next player to hop in front of the camera. You smile unconsciously as he gets touch ups, before snapping yourself out of it to refocus on the conversation Shandy and Keeley were having. It was about Jamie of course.

You start to find your cardboard coffee cup really interesting when Shandy comments on how attractive Jamie is. And you try not to sweat as Keeley starts listing off his red flags, only to follow up with comments about how he’s grown recently. You peak over at her as she looks at him on the monitor. Please, please don’t still have feelings for him. If you get back together I really won’t be able to look either of you in the eye.

“He only thinks with his dick,” Keeley muses jokingly before continuing thoughtfully, “Yet, I don’t think he’s seen anyone in ages.”

You busy yourself by taking a sip of coffee so you don’t pull a face.

Shandy gives Keeley a look, “I just want to know if I can bang him, babe.”

You almost choke on your drink.

“Oh,” Keeley manages a laugh, “I don’t know, you should probably ask him. It’s his dick.”

Shandy laughs along with her, nudging your arm. “What do you think?”

You try not to let your eyes become saucers. “Who, me?” She nods as if that's a dumb question - which it is. “I hardly know the guy. But like Keeley said, it's his dick. Consent is key.”

Shandy smirks, “Alright works for me. I’ll have to see what he’s doing later.”

You try not to be bothered by that.

Later, Keeley and Shandy let you head out while they close up shop on the shoot. Most of the team has cleared out, but you say goodnight to the few players you pass on the way back to your office to pick up your things. You’re caught off guard when you find Jamie waiting in one of the chairs in front of your desk.

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask curiously, shutting your door behind you. “Thought you left after you shot your promo.”

Jamie shook his head, “Nah, wanted to check on you first.”

That makes you feel nothing.

“Oh? Why?”

“I dunno. I knew you were feeling weird about everything this morning. Wanted to know how your day went.”

You smile softly at him, “I appreciate that.” You recall Rebecca’s pep talk this morning, “But, I’m feeling a lot better. In fact I feel great.”

“Good, you should,” Jamie smirks standing up, “And just so you know, I had a good time last night, too. You were also much better than the last girl I was with.”

You almost feel flattered, before your face twists in disgust, “Please don’t tell me that girl was Keely. Not that I need to know where I stand in comparison to Keeley, because I really do not, but I do feel weird knowing you two used to date.”

While Jamie is amused by your nervous rambling, he also appears a bit dejected at the mention of his ex, “No, Keeley was not the last person I was with. You also do not need to worry about that. Keeley could not give less of a shit what I do anymore, I’m sure.”

Both he and Rebecca made a similar comment to that effect. You’re dying to know more but you know it's none of your business. So you give him a reassuring smile instead, “Okay, cool. How was the rest of your day?”

Jamie shrugs, “Not as good as it started,” he winks, “but alright I guess. Roy has me doing extra training between practices now.”

You ignore his cheeky remark, “Really? That sounds awful.”

“S’not so bad. If I want to be the best player on the team, I got to put in the work.”

You nod thoughtfully, “Well if it means anything, and I'm sure it doesn’t since I don’t know shit about football, but I think you’re already pretty great.”

An unfamiliar expression casts over Jamie’s face as he blinks at you. He awkwardly breaks eye contact before responding, “Um, thank you.”

“‘Course,” you let the silence blanket the room for a bit before you’re making a comment you know you’ll regret later. “So, I think you were right. Shandy definitely does want to take a bite out of you.”

Jamie lets out a surprised huff, looking back up at you, “What? Why do you say that?”

“She was really enjoying your promo video earlier.”

Jamie hums, nodding. “And what did you think?”

You shrug innocently, “I thought it was fine.”

“Uh-huh. And if you saw me on Bantr, would you swipe right?”

“Not how that app works,” Jamie gives you a look and you give him one right back, “I think you already know my answer.”

“Hmm,” he smiled, pleased with himself.

“Would you-?”

“Swipe right on you? Thousand percent.”

“No,” you roll your eyes but bite back a smile, “On Shandy?”

“Oh.” he pauses, “Would it bother you if I did?”

You shake your head semi-quickly, “I’ll remind you, we just had a one night stand. I have no jurisdiction over any of your other nights.”

The side of Jamie’s lips quirk up, “Fair enough. Well, I will leave you to it then. I’d offer to drive you, but I have to meet Roy soon for another training session and he’ll be even more grumpy if I’m late.”

“You’re going to train again?” you ask in disbelief as he opens your office door.

“Yeah.”

“God, I can’t even get myself to work out once a week.”

“I dunno, you were pretty athletic last night.”

You groan, shoving him through the door, “Okay, get the fuck out of here, Tartt.”

“I’m really glad we can joke about this.”

“Get out!”

He laughs as he strolls down the hallway and around the corner, you unable to not watch as he goes.

You can’t help but note he never confirmed or denied interest in Shandy. Once again, you try not to be bothered by it.

When you leave a few minutes later, though, you catch Shandy and Keeley in the parking lot, and note that Jamie’s car is already gone. This time, you try not to be pleased with this information.

On Saturday, you join Rebecca and Keeley in a suite for Richmond’s match against West Ham. You learned this match was a big deal for two reasons.

One: Rebecca’s ex-husband, Rupert, owned the club. As soon as Rebecca introduces him when you run into him and his new wife, Bex, a chill runs down your spine. Even through forced pleasantries, he just oozes sliminess.

Two: Their head coach used to be an assistant coach for Richmond; Nathan Shelley. A few weeks after you moved, Beard informed you that the man blew up at Ted for some reason. That was only after he leaked information to the press about Ted having a panic attack during the game. Beard made you swear you wouldn’t tell Ted that he’d told you this. Not because Ted wouldn’t want you know about his anxiety; you’d actually had a sweet conversation with him after the news broke last year, even confiding in him about your own mental health struggles. But Beard knew that Ted wouldn’t want you worrying about the Nate situation. So you promised his best friend you wouldn’t mention it.

That still didn’t stop you from rooting for his- and Rupert’s- imminent demise. On the field, of course.

You sneak away from Rebecca and Keeley to grab some locker room footage for AFC Richmond’s socials. When you arrive in the doorway, you look to Ted for a signal that everyone is decent before entering. The energy in the room immediately feels different than usual, especially following their win streak. You know they’re going into today’s game with something to prove. You knock on a locker softly to grab their attention and two dozen pairs of eyes land on you.

“Hey boys. I don’t want to keep you, but would a few of you be open to doing some videos for our stories?”

A few team members including Sam, Zoreaux (who’s going by Van Damme now), and Jamie for some reason kindly volunteer, and you pull them off to the side. One by one, you have the boys record a video on how they’re feeling about today’s match, that you’ll post to Instagram. You don’t know if you do it on purpose or not, but you save Jamie for last. You hope he doesn’t notice the cadence. Now, just the two of you, he flashes you a grin before you record his segment.

“Can I see?” he asks after you’re done, “Got to make sure you’ve got my angles right.”

You snort, but nod him over to look at your phone. You hold your breath momentarily as he leans in next to you. Nodding after the video replays, he turns to look at you, your faces inches apart.

“Looks good.”

“Yeah,” you breath out, “You’re a one take wonder.”

His lips turn into a smirk. Neither of you say anything for a while, as your eyes study each other's faces. You wonder what he’s thinking. You know what you’re thinking; his eyes are somehow really pretty in this terrible fluorescent locker room lighting.

You blink for maybe the first time in sixty seconds as you hear Ted calling for the team to huddle up for a pre-game pep talk.

“That’s my cue,” you whisper. “Good luck out there today, Jamie.”

His smirk melts into a genuine smile, “Thank you.”

You return the gesture before pulling yourself out of his orbit. You skip past the rest of the team, wishing them all luck. Beard and Ted give you nods and you high five Sam on the way out.

Back in Rebecca’s suite, you join her, Keeley, Higgins and some of Keeley’s coworkers. One of them turns out to own the company that finance’s Keely’s PR firm, Jack. After sipping on some drinks, your group settles into your box seats. You clock Rupert a couple boxes over. Glancing at Rebecca, you see that she’s noticed the same thing. You subtly squeeze her hand and lean over.

“No matter what happens today, he’s still going to be the only loser between the two of you.” you quip softly.

You’re pleased when you see her visibly relax. She gives you a grateful smile and squeezes your hand back.

Unfortunately, her relaxed state doesn’t last very long. At half time West Ham is up by one. The match had been tough to watch. At one point, Richmond had the opportunity to score, had Jamie passed to Zava, but you felt your stomach twist when Jamie went for the goal himself and ended up missing. You could understand why he did it, but you wanted to see them win this game. You knew he and the whole team must be feeling the pressure three times as much as you were. You never thought you’d care this much about sports.

You and your friends try to make small talk while the teams regroup in the locker room, but everyone’s still feeling the stress of the game. Rebecca had even left to go who-knows-where to shake off her anxieties. Although, you get a moment of reprieve when Keeley asks Shandy if she’d gone out with Jamie yet, and the girl exasperatedly informs everyone that he turned her down. You manage not to outwardly smile.

Everyone in your section is immediately alert a few minutes later when both teams start making their way back to the pitch. West Ham enters first, energy high, followed by the Greyhounds who look…less than thrilled. You can feel the tension radiating off of them from your seat, as they all seem to throw death glares at Nate.

You’re not sure what happened in the locker room to cause this shift in attitude, but you hoped it meant they’d play tougher this half.

Oh how wrong you were.

The team was practically feral, pushing, shoving and literally throwing the West Ham players to the ground. You found yourself wincing on multiple occasions at the violence. You were shocked that even Sam was engaging in the aggression. By the end of the game, Richmond was down half their players and lost the match 4 to 1.

You can barely comprehend what you just witnessed. After digesting everything, and hopefully giving everyone time to cool down, you let Keeley know you’d meet her and Rebecca out front, Rebecca having already vacated the suite, mumbling expletives in her wake. You head down to the locker room again to find the team in what could only be described as different states of denial. They also looked a bit…ashamed.

As if sensing your presence, Jamie’s eyes snap up and land on your figure. Despite the fact that he feels like absolute shit right now, seeing you alleviates half of his stress. He nearly stands to meet you in the doorway, when Sam approaches you and you engulf him in a hug. Jamie’s nervous energy shifts into a feeling he doesn’t recognize. All he knows is he wishes there was someone that could comfort him after this loss, or any loss, really. But he doesn’t have the relationship with you that you do with Sam. Maybe if you got to know each other better, you’d consider him a closer friend; one you’d go to when you knew he felt shitty. One he could go to when he wanted to talk about something. Anything. But you weren’t those kinds of friends yet. He briefly wonders if you even consider him a friend, but he’s not lingering on that thought right now.

He tries not to stare as you continue talking to Sam, before Sam leaves to hit the showers. You exchange what he imagines are words of affirmation with Colin and Isaac, too, before you’re heading back to the door. You pause and turn around again, eyes scanning the room before they land on his, as if that were their destination. He lifts his head out of its place in his hand. You only give him a sad smile and a head nod before you’re turning around again. You nearly run into Ted when you do. He watches as you and Ted exchange words briefly, before you squeeze the coach's arm and disappear around the corner.

Jamie sighs. You’ve had sex with him and all he gets is a fucking head nod, while Ted Lasso gets a pat on the arm.

He doesn’t think the day can get much worse, until Zava sashays into the room, with a disappointed look plastered across his face. He doesn’t waste any time hiding his frustrations with the team for their actions in the second half, as if he’s never done anything wrong in his life. Jamie rolls his eyes and heads to the showers himself.

Jamie slugs through the rest of the evening in a daze. He barely registers going from the match to the bus, and then back to his home. He tries to find something on TV to distract himself from his anxious energy, but he can’t focus on anything. He briefly considers going out to some bar or club, but he’s really not in the mood. He settles on texting Roy to see if he’s up for a late night workout, but for some reason the guy chooses tonight to be a reasonable human being and tells Jamie to take the night off.

He’s pacing around his living room when he gets one last idea. It's not a great idea, and he’s definitely going to regret it, regardless if it went well or not. But before he can talk himself out of it, he’s grabbing his keys and slamming his front door shut.

You’re camped out on your couch as one of your favorite The Nanny reruns plays on the TV. You find yourself zoning out, though, replaying the events of the match.

Sam had given you insight on what went down with him and the team. He informed you during half time, they learned that Nate had destroyed the Believe sign that hung in their locker room. While ripping a piece of paper hardly seemed like a reason to go full attack-mode, you understood when Sam explained that the sign, and Ted’s belief system, had been what began to unite them as a team a couple years ago. Your heart warmed at how much Ted clearly meant to Sam and the team, and while their methods may have not been perfect, you admired how protective they were over your uncle.

You wonder how Jamie’s taking it. Even though you’ve become a lot more comfortable around him, you still felt awkward approaching him in the locker room in front of the team. But you secretly longed to ask how he was. Despite not knowing a whole lot about him, he always seemed especially attached to Ted, so you could only imagine how he’d taken everything this afternoon. Although, you don’t remember him participating in most of the fighting. He’d just played a bit more aggressively.

You’re typing and retyping a text to Jamie, figuring out the best way to check in without seeming invasive. Before you have the chance to debate your words any longer, there’s a knock on your door. Your heart rate spikes. Who the hell would be knocking on your door at 10PM? You slowly approach the door, your mind making up some crap about London being a crime-free city to put your anxieties at ease. You quietly peek through the peep-hole. Letting out a loud sigh of relief, you unlock the door and pull it open.

“Jamie, what are you doing here? Are you okay?”

The footballer gives you a once over before shaking his head decidedly, “No.”

Worried, you part your mouth to respond, but don’t get the chance when he’s suddenly cupping your face and kissing you, firmly but gently. Your hands automatically find his arms to steady yourself, as the two of you stumble further into your apartment. You kiss him back for a few more seconds, before parting slightly.

“Jamie,” you whisper in question against his lips.

“I’m sorry, I know you wanted this to be a one time thing but do you think you can make an exception tonight?” he breathes heavily, nestling his forehead to yours, “Today was shit and I just, I need…”

You nod furiously, not needing him to continue, “I know, it's okay.” You kiss him once, twice. “I can do a two-time thing.”

He huffs out a laugh in relief before pulling you closer for an even more passionate kiss. He kicks your door shut before pushing you in the direction of your bedroom.

Later that night when you’re both coming down from your highs, and Jamie’s laying on top of you, with his head buried in your neck, you hear him whisper cheekily, “Thank you.”

Leave it to Jamie to make you flush with embarrassment and laugh out loud, as your naked bodies tangle together.

What a fucking prick.

A/N: CAN’T WAIT TO HEAR WHAT Y’ALL THINK! also this gif, hello??

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt x f!reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #mine #distractions series

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claraswritings · 11 months

Text

Conversation

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Reader

Warnings: spoilers for S1 and S2, miscommunication, (kind of) enemies to lovers, language, a few plot changes, mutual pining and one or two mentions of Jamie’s dad being a prick. Also I accidentally wrote something in this that is minorly similar to a scene in S3…but I wrote that bit AGES ago. Just signposting it as last time I didn’t someone got shitty with me

Notes: this is so much longer than I planned lmao so that explains why it took so long to post. Also not betad or spellchecked yet as it’s late here!

I don’t even know if I like this… I might delete this…

Title inspired by Conversation by Catfish and the Bottlemen

You’d been the player liaison officer at AFC Richmond for two years and for the most part, you loved your job. A lot of it involved what was referred to as “general life admin” for the players, as you sorted out everything from banks to home viewings to car collections to visas to schools for players with kids.

Most people would think looking out for a bunch of millionaire footballers would be a stressful job but you didn’t mind. The players had, for the most part, always been nice and you’d even started helping to show the new signings around, offering to recommend them restaurants or bars and you’d even become friendly with a few of them over the course of your time at the club.

Or at least until you encountered the clubs new loan signing. It had taken four weeks of his season long loan before you’d first spoken to him, and from the ten minutes he’d spent in your office, you’d gotten the same impression everyone did of him.

Jamie Tartt was undoubtedly the one of the biggest pricks you’d ever met .

Twenty minutes later than agreed, he’d sauntered in to your office, moaning about his teammates, discard the print offs of flats and houses you’d spent ages looking into for him, grabbed a card with the requested time and date of a collection of an Aston Martin you’d arranged for him without so much as a thank you, before asking if you could fix a modelling gig for him. With your arms folded across your chest, you’d firmly told him that was you were player liaison and not PR and that there was no way you’d be arranging his shirtless photoshoots or his latest perfume ad and he’d left with a comment about your job being “pointless” leaving your door wide open.

***

The next time you spoke to him was when he’d let a door swing in your face, as he stormed through the car park still furious after the loss to Crystal Palace. You held back from walking out as you could over hear him rant to the reporter from the Independent about…everything. An exclusive straight from the car park, Jamie Tartt was a journalists dream.

“Hey.” You caught up to him in the car park, “Talking to the press? Really?”

“Do I know you?” Jamie stared at you with a blank expression “Are you a fan? How did you get in here? You want a picture or something?”

“A fan? Of you? No. I work for the club. I’m the one that arranged your car, your flat, your VIP booth at the bar you’re off to. Most people say you’re welcome by the way.” You waved an arm in the direction of his sports car.

“Right.” Jamie continued to stare at you like you’d grown a second head before shrugging “Did you need something?”

Un-fucking-believable. In that moment, you’d never disliked him more.

You considered telling him how stupid it was to run his mouth off to the press, how much it would hurt his teammates, his manager, the fans to hear their star player dragging the club down but as you watched him chew his gum so casually, you realised he didn’t care and it was too late, and it was probably too late. Trent Crimm was already heading back to his car, statement no doubt being composed and ready for the morning papers but it was doubtful Jamie even registered anything other than himself and his massive ego. How could you possibly expect him to care about anyone else.

“Nothing. Doesn’t matter. Don’t think you’d understand it. Have a nice night.” You turned on your heel and were safe inside your own car before you finished the sentence “Prick.”

***

Ever since your little argument in the car park, you’d made it your absolute resolution to keep your contact with him to the bare minimum until the end of his loan when he’d become whatever poor player liaison officer Man City had.

You managed this pretty effectively being that he’d decided not to train until you’d received a call from your boss late into the evening one night asking you to come by the training ground. Usually a call in the evening was one of the new players wants a dinner reservation and didn’t know where to book or occasionally ordering a cab when one of the players had forgotten what hotel they were staying in the night before a game.

You absolutely not been expecting it to be ‘please can you swing by Colins and get his spare car keys…’ Nonetheless you’d agreed.

The scene unfolding before you when arrived the training ground was like something out of a fever dream. The players celebrating on the training pitch, a burning bin obviously a major part of whatever bonding exercise Coach Lasso had come up with. A scan of the field resulted no sign of Colin. You could see Dani Rojas, running around with Bumbercatch and Richard as if he hadn’t just been in the treatment room a mere 24 hours ago and Issac downing the last of a bottle of Mezcal back and forth with Richard whilst Ted and Beard watched on, laughing as Zoreaux choked on a swig of the liquor.

Nearest you and staring into the fire, beer bottle in hand, was the last person you wanted to see. Jamie Tartt. Of course it was. It would be so typical of your luck that it would be.

“Colin about?” You resolved yourself to asking him, wiggling your hand as the spare key jangled between your fingers. “Got to give him these.”

“Inside.” Jamie nodded “He’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Humming in acknowledgment, your eyes fell to the flaming bin and curiosity got the better of you and you had to ask “Do I want to ask how he lost his keys?”

“Burnt them in that.” Jamie gestured at the flames he was staring at. When you didn’t reply, his eyes found their way to yours and he explained the whole process.

“Oh.” You were surprised. “I didn’t think team bonding would have been your thing.”

Jamie hesitated. He couldn’t argue. You were right, he hadn’t been much of a team player

“I wasn’t gonna but…thought maybe I should show my face” he shrugged, hoping you wouldn’t question his bravado. He pointed at the fire. “Do you wanna throw something in? Everyone else has.”

“I think it’s already worked…” you gestured with your arm at the field. “but yeah why not?”

You thought for a moment… you hadn’t brought anything except your phone and your own keys which… you didn’t fancy throwing in. Unlike Colin you’d have to walk home and get your spare set and walk back to the car park, which wasn’t particularly appealing in the dark.

Suddenly an idea struck you, you unclipped your necklace and extended out your hand, letting it slip, dangling in your fingertips for a few seconds before dropping it. “Hopefully this helps with the luck.”

“You don’t need luck if I’m playing.” Jame replied, a smirk on his lips. You held off rolling your eyes at his cockiness. Sometimes you really didn’t get him. Mere seconds before you’d been having a semblance of a civil conversation and then he was right back to arrogant arsehole.

“What is it?” He questioned. It had to be the first time he’d asked you anything about yourself.

“Necklace. It was my nan’s… she…died when I was 15.”

“Oh shit sorry.” It was probably the most sincere you’d ever heard him. If it had came out of anyone else’s mouth, you might have bought it as genuine. “Wasnt like anything bad, was it?”

“It was a long time ago, she was sick for a long time and…” you stopped yourself suddenly aware that this was Jamie Tartt you were talking to and any minute now, he’d probably resume his usual self centred personality. “Sorry, long story short, she passed away a while ago but… I don’t think she’d mind. Grandad was a Richmond fan.”

“What did you…put in?” you asked, swiftly changing the subject. You were half expecting the answer to be his little black book of desperate instagram girls or some signed picture of himself from one of his many magazine photoshoots. It would after all be completely on-brand for him.

“Erm…football boots, ones my mum got me. She got me into playing…” he said it trying to be casual and keep his cool. “She just wants me to enjoy playing yeah? So good motivation and that”

“I’m sure she’d be really happy for you, Jamie.” You looked over to where Colin was remerging back from the building looking extremely relived to see you. “I have to go give these to Colin. It’s why I was called out here in the first place. Have a good night.”

Truth be told, you were a little skeptical. Of both the ritual and of Jamie showing an interest in anyone else other than himself but you figured if the whole team had given the ritual a chance, maybe just maybe, Jamie Tartt had developed the capacity to care about other people.

You found out the next morning that he was on his way back to Man City when you’d received an email from his agent asking you to arrange termination of his house rental agreement

***short time skip***

When your doorbell had gone off late into Saturday afternoon a few weeks later, Jamie Tartt had been the last person you expected to see.

“Richmond said you had the stuff from my locker.” He said, leaning instantly on the door frame as soon as you answered without so much as a hello. “Said you was going to send it to the guy who does whatever it is you do at City but I called Issac, Jeff and Keeley and they’re all busy so thought come get it. Nothing better to do.”

A house visit hadn’t been on the agenda but you figured it was marginally less awkward than him swinging by the training ground so you’d taken it and had been talking to the player liaison officer at City making arrangements to send it up.

“Well I’m flattered to be your fourth choice. Coincidentally probably your first words to Pep.” You couldn’t resist the dig. Ever since he’d left, Richmond had struggled but being that he was now Man City’s problem you didn’t have to mince your words.

“Yeah well, I’ll be first choice soon. Scored today didn’t I…,” he clicked his tongue and gestured at himself. “Best goal of the match as well.”

“Wouldn’t know. I was watching Richmond.” You folded one arm over the other. A part of you enjoyed the flicker of surprise that crossed his face, but you gave him a tight smile as a somewhat attempt to be civil.

“Heard old man Roy scored yesterday. Must have taken it out of him.” Jamie rested back on the heels of his expensive trainers “Bet he’s gonna be in that ice bath for hours.”

You ignored the dig at the Richmond captain “Had the game of his life actually…like someone turned back the clock. Heard from Sam that Nate had some real words of wisdom.”

“Nate? Nathan? The kitman?” Jamie’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you in shock. “We thinking of the same guy? Him!?”

You laughed, knowing that the idea of Nate who always seemed so unassuming and quiet giving Roy Kent, footballing legend, a piece of his mind was crazy. If you’d heard it from anyone other than Sam, you’d probably have thought it was an elaborate joke.

“Apparently so.”

“Fucking hell.” His eyebrows shot up “Kinda wish I’d seen the old man’s reaction.”

“Yeah well…you weren’t…I’ll get your stuff. Probably a bit weird for you…being at a woman’s door when you haven’t slept with her.” You tapped on the door and grimaced. You knew the team would miss Jamie for his ability on the pitch.

Jamie shrugged, before he was distracted by his reflection in the window. He adjusted a stray hair then slowly turned back as of pulling his gaze away from himself was particularly tough “You would though wouldn’t you?”

A singular laugh left your throat coming out harshly. “No. Nothing personal…Zoolander” you paused as you realised that wasn’t completely honest. “Well its a little personal…but…I don’t date footballers. Went out with one once. Played for another club. Was at my friends for a weekend. He slept with six other women in two days.”

Jamie pursed his lips and let out a low whistle almost like he was impressed.

“What’s that…Rookie numbers for you?” You called over your shoulder as you stepped to the side of the door to pick up the box that had been sitting in your hallway for the past week and a half.

“Nah…even I’m not that bad” He clicked his tongue and winked “Most of the time.”

“How lovely.” You deadpanned turning back to him. “Suppose you slow down once you run out of every woman in SW16?”

Jamie looked you up and down “You always like this? All Cruella DeVille and that”

Ignoring his playground like insult, you moved one hand back to the door handle, the box balanced on your hip with the other. You were hoping you’d be able to close the door quickly and force him to go off elsewhere. “You left my club, I’m allowed to be a little mean to you.”

“Lasso sent me back. Said he didn’t need me but obviously he does though cause you were losing until today” A cocky smirk on his face, he pointed at himself “Could have used me in those other games.”

“What?” You frowned, eyebrows knotting in the centre. “What are you on about?… of course we needed you. You’re a fucking twat but you’re good. Why wouldn’t he want you in the team” You didn’t like paying him a compliment but you felt it was the only way to get a reasonable conversation out of him

Jamie almost rolled his eyes and you were unsure if it was because he thought you were stating the obvious or saying something stupid.

Noticing Jamie’s childish reaction, you called him out.

“Ted’s a really nice guy, you know. Maybe cut him a little slack?”

Ted had always been friendly to you. Giving you a good morning when he arrived and a good evening with a bright smile when he left and even talking to you about favourite books when he’d brought ones in for the team. If you offered help with setting things up, he would always tell you not to worry and he’d sort anything out himself… More often than not he was back at your office with 15minutes talking a lot about how different things were to Kansas and asking for help.

Despite being new to the sport, never mind the Premier League, Ted was at least trying. It somewhat bothered you that Jamie seemed so intent on being disrespectful.

“Knows fuck all about football though.”

“And you know fuck all about how to talk to people. Maybe you could have learnt from each other.” You snapped back before you could stop yourself. “Just an idea. It’s how adults talk.”

Feeling the exasperation levels rise and wondering how you’d even gotten this far into a conversation with him, you tossed the box of his stuff in to his arms and he managed to steady it despite being caught slightly off guard.

“Goodbye Jamie. See you next season”

And with that you slammed the door shut forcibly before he could reply.

*** time skip***

“I’m just going to get a drink, you want one?”

You offered to your friend and her boyfriend, as you slid out of your booth. Truth be told, you didn’t need another drink, you just wanted to escape for a few moments and work out if it had been this loud when you were a Uni student or if you’d just become accustomed to pubs over clubs in the years since you’d left.

With the team settled into the season, and the new signings all set up, you decided to take a week off to go visit some old friends in Manchester and against your better judgement you’d been dragged to a bar by your friend and her boyfriend.

In response your friend waved her half full, bright blue cocktail, letting you know she was good for now and you made your way across the dance floor and up to the bar, ordering the strongest cocktail on the menu not paying much attention to what was in it.

You’d only just picked up your drink when you heard it. The familiar voice causing you to whip around so quickly that you were impressed you didn’t spill anything.

“[Name]? That you?”

“Jamie Tartt.” You replied, as you took a long drink of the freshly replenished cocktail “Nice to see you.”

You were, of course, being sarcastic. You didn’t try to hide it this time. You didn’t have to. The last time you’d seen him, he’d been assisting in the game that sent Richmond down. Well… that and when your friends had sent you numerous clips of him making an arse out himself on Lust Conquers All and asking you if he really was that much of a twat in real life, to which you’d reply no, he was actually a bigger twat.

“How come you’re in Manchester?” He asked, catching you off guard. Jamie had never cared about seeing you, let alone it being ‘good to’ and now here he was making small talk like you were old friends.

“I’m visiting friends from when I lived here.” You told him keeping your answer short “Look if you want someone to sort out some private booth for you, firstly I’m on holiday and secondly I work for Richmond…you don’t…so…” you paused and gazed around the busy bar, looking for someone to pass Jamie on to “ask the barman.”

“You lived in Manchester?” Jamie tilted his head, genuine surprise crossed his features, as if you’d been withholding some crucial information. “I’m from here.”

“I know you are…“ you took another long drink, feeling like you’d need it if you were about to have another frustrating conversation as your patience was slowly slipping away. He’d completely ignored your previous statement and carried on with the small talk he’d never shown any need for before “What do you need Jamie?”

Jamie looked stunned. “I didn’t know you lived in Manchester. How come you never said?” He replied with a question in response.

“It’s a big city Jamie. You never asked me about myself, surprised you even remembered my name. You don’t need to feign interest in me. Just tell me what you want.” Patience now completely gone and just keen for him to get to the point, you downed the last of your drink and turned to place it back on the bar, only just missing the slight look of guilt he gave you.

“I just, um,” Jamie hesitated, unsure as to how to start, he bit his lip. There was no way he could just come out with it.

He’d tried Keeley but she’d told him to talk to Ted which… he really didn’t want to do. He knew he’d have to eventually but he didn’t want to have to ask especially after how they’d left things in person. Jamie knew from the tiny army man and note that Ted held no resentment but approaching him was a completely different ask so he’d headed back to his mums in Manchester first to weigh up his options.

He considered messaging one of the team but knew after his assist to send Richmond down, they likely would not want to speak to him…so he went through the staff- Kitman Will was a no go, Nate an even bigger no, he didn’t even think he had his number. Jamie went through a few of the back room staff before the thought of you crossed his mind and he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner.

You fixed everything. Player needed a mechanic, you had one around within an hour, one of the coaches needed a caterer, you could arrange it, any player needed schools for their kids, you had uniforms by the end of the day. It was, at least to Jamie, like you could fix any problem…so hoping you could fix his big one, he looked you up on instagram and seeing that you’d posted only two hours ago, he clicked to view.

You were laughing and clinking glasses with another girl and a guy and had placed a tag in the corner indicating what bar you were in. Jamie could barely believe his luck when he clicked on it; as if by chance, as if this was confirmation that he had to talk to you, the tag showed as a bar only fifteen minutes away. He’d left within five. He didn’t know why you were here in his home city but to Jamie it felt like a sign so he’d threw on a coat and headed out to find you.

“It’s nice to see you Jamie but if you’ve got nothing to say, I really need to get back to my friend.” It was a small lie, you could not have cared less about running into him.

“Wait.” He protested, reaching for your arm before pulling back, barely grazing you. “Can we have a drink or something?”

“I’m not a waitress Jamie. If you want a drink, you’ll have to get one yourself like a big boy.”

From the vacant expression that had taken over, he clearly no idea what you were talking about and was waiting for you to fill in the blanks.

“It was a joke. At the charity event, you gave me twenty quid and told me to get you a drink. I told you I wasn’t a waitress and you said ‘same thing’… then I took the £20 and used it for my taxi home… you obviously don’t remember.”

Jamie felt discomfort twist in his chest as he averted his eyes to the ground for a few seconds. Had he really said that? You said it so casually like it was normal.

“Look…please can I just talk you? I’ll…pay for your drinks.” He attempted a peace offering, only for you to wince.

“I can get my own drinks.” You stated bluntly, with a half hearted smile. “I’ll see you later, I’d say good luck for this season but Caths a United fan”

“I’m sorry…uh, I fucked it alright? I don’t…City don’t want me back.” Jamie slid in front of you quickly to try slow your move to the table down. “And I didn’t win Lust Conquers All…”

“I’m sorry to hear you didn’t win your show. Maybe there’s another you can rate strippers on or something.”

“It’s all I’m actually any good at.” His voice was far more subdued, far more quiet than you’d heard him before so much so you would have missed it if it wasn’t said in a seconds pause between songs.

“Rating strippers?” You made a joke, lips twisting up as you raised an eyebrow. However Jamie in response still looked deadly serious, so much so that something inside made your resolve falter. It was not like Jamie Tartt to be remotely serious.

You sighed, eyes skimming over the room to your friend, who was trying to wave you over with a questioning look on her face. Holding up a few fingers, you indicated to her you’d only be two minutes. She shrugged and went back to whatever conversation she was having with her boyfriend.

“Please.” He asked once more and you knew would kick yourself if this turned out to be an act. “I swear down I’m being serious”

You glanced back at Jamie who looked so utterly defeated, in a way you’d never seen him. He looked a million miles away from that cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen last time.

“Fine. We can talk but… outside…” you threw your hand up and jerked your thumb at the door. “I’ll meet you out there. I need to let my friend know I’m leaving.”

The cold air hit you suddenly as you stepped out of the busy bar, squeezing by a hen do and heading down the stairs. Jamie was already waiting outside, shifting from one foot to the other, looking even more on edge that he had done inside. Having seen his adverts, you knew he was not that good of an actor, whatever was going on it had to be at least a little bit real.

“Alright. I’m all ears.” You stated as you reached the bottom.

Jamie found himself talking and talking to you as you walked through the city without any real direction. You asked the occasional question but besides that you were mostly just listening. He was stalling, putting off asking you for help by just relaying the drama between leaving City and being voted off the show. You could tell there was something else. There was no way he’d drag you, someone he barely knew, barely liked, out into the city streets to question the voting public for picking some guy called Danthony over him.

“They offered me a reality show…when I got kicked off but I’d have to do ecstasy and shit and…” Jamie trailed off, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his designer puffer jacket. “Didn’t want that.”

“Drugs too far?” You joked, not wanting to show that you were actually pleasantly surprised that he had a limit as to what he’d do for fame. His eyes caught yours and he shook his head.

There was a beat, a few seconds of only the city sounds, you spoke again, your voice and your eyes more sympathetic this time. “I’m glad you didn’t take it. It would be a waste of your actual talent if you did. You’re way too good at football to piss it all away for some shit show…Why did you leave City anyway? Thought you had it all worked out? And be honest with me, I’m not thick, I’ll know.”

Jamie caught your eye, your gaze on him was questioning, but not in the demanding, scrutinising way he was so used to. You were looking at him in such a way, If you didn’t hate him, Jamie could almost convince himself you were asking because you cared. The slight softening of your look on him made him drop what was remaining of his facade and tell you the truth. “I thought it’d piss off my dad.”

“Ah,” the sound was small, “Is your dad…?”

“A prick?” Jamie stated bluntly before you could finish “Yeah. On me all the time, over everything. Always has been. Always got something to fucking say. Got sick of it. I know it’s stupid but…”

“It’s not stupid…well it was a stupid thing to do…” you pulled your coat tighter against the wind. “but you’re not stupid. I understand. I think most people would. I’m sorry your dads an arsehole.”

“Thanks” He commented with a tight face as you rounded the corner. “But I’m used to it”

“You shouldn’t have to be.”

You stopped as he could see your hotel lit up ahead on the street you were now walking down and somehow you’d ended up back where you were staying and you felt a little bit sorry to leave him. A small, tiny part of you thought about inviting him up and offering to continue the conversation but this was Jamie and you had a feeling he would definitely get the wrong idea.

“Erm… this… this is me.” You tilted your head up ahead at the hotel door “Thank you for walking me back Jamie. Even if you didn’t mean to.”

“Do you think Richmond would have me back?” Jamie asked quickly, fearing he’d lose his chance at getting out what had been lingering on his mind since he’d walked out of the meeting with his agent. “I could really really use Richmond now. And I think Richmond need me?” He gave you a tweak of a smile, more hopeful than arrogant.

Ah of course. That was it. He did need something after all. Despite this, you didn’t feel any resentment, you actually felt a little bit bad for him. Jamie had been a first class twat but he also seemed to be genuinely trying to reach out.

You gave him an apologetic smile. “Look, I wish I could help but…you’ll have to talk to Ted. I don’t have any say it in. I can give him a heads up but at the end of the day, he’s the manager, Jamie.”

“Yeah. Keeley said the same thing.” He looked dejected, reluctant even. “Don’t know why I thought you’d say anything else.” He dragged one of his expensive trainers against the concrete pavement and you winced at thinking how they probably cost a substantial chunk of your wages.

“I’m not surprised. She’s smart, makes me wonder why she went out with you.” You took the opportunity to lightly tease him although kept your tone completely deadpan.

“Oi come on! I’m being nice!” Jamie’s head shot up, ready to protest until he could see you were smiling and his shoulders loosened.

“I know I’m messing with you.” You replied “but seriously Talk to Ted. He’s usually at The Crown and Anchor. He’s a nice guy, Jamie. Give him a chance.”

“Fine. Thanks.” Jamie shrugged, looking like he’d rather do anything else. “If it works, can I have my old house back?”

“I’ll sort something…Goodnight Jamie.”You reached over and squeezed his arm “and good luck.”

***

Jamie’s reintegration was not going as smoothly as he’d hoped. With the rest of the team being somewhat reluctant to forgive his attitude from his last spell in at the club, Jamie was now getting the cold shoulder.

“Shit!” You jumped when you walked into you office. “How long have you been here? How did you get in?”

“No one likes me.” Jamie muttered from the spare chair opposite your desk. He didn’t answer your question but from the lost look on his face you didn’t feel like pushing it. He was slouched so far over your desk, he was practically lying on it, training jacket pulled up over his face and his chin in his hand

“Can’t say I blame them. You were kind of an arsehole last time you were here.” You placed your bag on the spot on the desk not occupied by Jamie.

“But like I’m actually trying and they’re… are all being dickheads about it.” He sat up suddenly, throwing his arms back as he slumped back into the chair.

“Again I don’t blame them.”

“Colin said I was the worm now.”

You cocked your head confused “I’m not going to ask…but I probably don’t blame him”

“Even the new lads giving me stick”

“Yeah, word travels, you’re… kinda infamous here now”

“Yeah I know…” Jamie clicked his tongue as if you were stating the obvious “but why do they hate me… when I’m trying?” He held out his hands and looked over at you, waiting for your clarification.

“Jamie. You got us relegated, you were a bad team mate and a bit of a shit…”

“Alright, alright.” Jamie shrugged “just you’re the only one whose nice to me…except maybe Ted but he don’t count he’s nice to everyone and Keeley but she’s my ex ain’t she? How can I make them like me? Get them all something?”

“It’ll take time Jamie… you can’t just make it up to them with gifts…”

Deciding you had to do to something to distract him, you lifted your bag up from the desk again and gestured for him to stand up which he did so reluctantly.

“Right okay, get your keys…I’m not having you moping around my office…let’s go for a walk or a drive or whatever and talk. It’ll help. I promise”

It quickly became a regular, daily thing. Jamie would come to your office as soon as the on field training was done. The rest of the team would head into the gym and he’d come wait in your office or out for coffee until most of the others had left and then he’d slip down to the gym to train alone.

You’d were slowly softening to him. He’d even started opening up a bit more, slowly elaborating day by day until he was talking more openly to you than you’d ever thought. Underneath all the cocky bravado, Jamie was a sweet, funny, guy who’d just fallen into the trap of thinking arrogance was a shield against anything the world could throw at him. You liked this side of him far far more and you couldn’t help yourself but think if he’d always been like this, like he was now, you’d have been friends a long time ago.

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing when Jamie told you about Ted’s alter ego act. Even more so that he was completely straight faced when relaying how weird it was. You could guess what Ted was doing, but Jamie seemed so serious he had you in stitches.

“Oh and I, erm, I spoke to the, the therapist lady…Doctor Sharon.” Jamie slipped in quickly, before he could change his mind over telling you. His eyes quickly shot over your shoulder to the aerial photograph of Nelson Road that decorated the wall behind your desk and focused hard on it as he waited for your response.

Jamie had no reason to doubt you’d be supportive but still he could have sworn the few seconds it took for you to reply was actually an hour. He worried in those few seconds that he’d overstepped the mark and made you uncomfortable with an over share or that you’d kick him out.

You couldn’t believed Jamie had just spent fifteen minutes ranting about ‘Led Tasso’ and completely neglected to mention that he’d spoken to the new therapist.

“Jamie…why didn’t you tell me!” You exclaimed, nearly knocking over the Richmond mug on your desk over your laptop. “That’s great!”

“Dunno” Jamie managed to drop his stare from the wall to you and shrugged “I erm, didn’t think it was worth mentioning. Keeley dragged me up there and I thought might aswell. Nothing better do to.”

“Course its worth mentioning. Getting help is the best thing you can do… it’s hard to take that first step and reach out. I’m proud of you.”

“Really?” For a second Jamie wondered if he’d hallucinated. He hadn’t heard that. Not those words in that order from anyone in a long time and Jamie liked the thought of you, of all people, being proud of him.

“Yeah! Going…and actually talking to a professional? That’s amazing! Did it help?”

Jamie let your response sink in before he nodded “Uh yeah I think so, spoke to her about like my dad and stuff. She’s really good.” He scratched his cheek quickly before dropping his hands to the table.

“It’s great, everything you’re doing. It’ll take time… but I’m just so happy you’re reaching out.” You leant over the desk and placed your hand over his and gave it a squeeze “you know you’ve always got me but talking to a professional is the best thing for you.” The second you’d retracted Jamie missed the reassurance provided by the warm contact.

“Knock knock” a voice called from the doorframe interrupting and Jamie felt his heart drop as one of his teammates stuck his head around “Hello!”

“Jan! Hi!” You beamed at him, getting up from your desk as Jamie tried not to let his disappointment show at the interruption. “Come in!”

“You ready? You’re always packed up early and ready to go so I thought I would come see” Jan slipped around the door and raised his eyebrows staring at your desk which, as he’d guessed, was already pretty much clear for the day. “Usually in the last hour you don’t do any work.”

You rolled your eyes at his assessment but didn’t protest. You very rarely got anything done in the last hour so tended to scroll on your phone, clear up and wait until you could leave.

“Alright?” Jamie attempted to greet the other man “Is anyone down in the gym, mate?”

Jan shook his head no, not conversing with the other man any more than needed and waited for Jamie to stand up and make his way to the door, stepping aside to let him leave.

“Um, thanks [Name], I’ll see you later yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll come see you later.” You offered “We can go to that restaurant for dinner. The Indian one I was telling you about the other day?”

Jamie nodded and shut the door quickly suddenly all too aware of his teammate watching him.

***

“Why are you friends with him?” Jan asked pointedly as you left the room a few minutes later and made your way to the car park.

“Jamie’s really trying. Trust me last season he would not have even acknowledged me” you laughed and pointed at yourself.

“I don’t like him.” Jan said, looking like you’d posed some sort of serious question before he offered you a sweet from the bag he was holding out “Left you the red ones.” He glanced back into the bag “Well most of them!”

“Be nice!” You jokingly punched his arm before thanking him for leaving your favourites “Jamie’s trying not be a twat…but It’s hard for him. He’s had years of practice.”

Jamie watched you’d leave with the centre back from the open gym door. From your hushed voice, you were doing your best to keep quiet so he wouldn’t overhear but the ‘he wouldn’t have acknowledged me’ stung. Deep down he knew it was true, he hadn’t been nice to you, and you were understandably cold to him.

He’d find himself worried, wondering if you were with Jan, what if you no longer had time for him, what if he lost the one real friend he had. Although if Jamie was honest with himself, he’d liked you as more than a friend for a while.

A few days into his return to Richmond, he’d been unable to sleep. Worrying that the team hated him, would always hate him, was he this pathetic failure his dad said he was, would he ever be considered a talented footballer again or would he always just be a joke who put his ‘brand’ first.

He realised he’d didn’t want to call his anyone except you. He wanted to talk to you. You’d answered on the fourth ring and if you were annoyed at being woken at 1am, you didn’t sound it. You’d been concerned, asking if he was in trouble.

“No…I can’t sleep.” Jamie had said, almost ashamed to say anything more. He worried you’d think it was pathetic, a weak reasoning for calling, but at the same time hoped you’d pick up on the something left unsaid.

You did. “I know what you mean” you’d spoken, sleepily “you want a distraction? I can read to you if you like. My books so boring, you’ll fall asleep.”

Jamie had laughed and accepted your offer and settled in as you’d started to read some story.

When he woke the next morning, you were still on the other end of the phone. You were already awake but you must have stayed on the call with him.

‘Just in case’ you’d told him, the corner of your cheek twitching on one side.

It was the single most simple, caring gesture but it cemented it. In that moment he knew he was gone. You just knew him. When he needed to laugh, when he needed to talk and when he just wanted a distraction. (You’d never tell him how easy it was for you to tell).

The next time, hed offered to return the favour he’d read you the book Coach Lasso had bought him. He’d been reluctant at first but you’d persuaded him, encouraging him a little bit at a time and before you knew it, he’d read it cover to cover.

You were just a kind person, he told himself. You were like that with everyone. He’d see you excitedly trying some Nigerian food Sam brought in or attempt to speak Spanish to Dani, who would be thrilled and offer to teach you, he’d see you talk to Keeley, usually showing each other something on your phones and giggling.

Jamie would find himself analysing every conversation you’d had with him, where you like that with other people and for signs that maybe your feelings were mutual. He would run over everything in his head as he ran on the treadmill or worked on presses so much so that by the time he’d decided to just keep quiet, as he did every day, he’d have done several miles or lost count of the amount of presses he’d done.

Fuck it there was no way he could tell you. You were happy and you were his friend and he’d rather have you in his life as his friend than not at all.

***short time skip***

When Jamie had came into your office in a panic on Christmas Eve, asking you if you’d ever cooked a Christmas dinner and begging for you to help him cook one for his mum who would be visiting, you’d agreed against your better judgement. You’d cooked Christmas dinner twice. Once at University and once when your mum had a migraine and you had to finish off and now you were in Jamie’s house on Christmas Day making what he’d bought from M&S two days before into a Christmas dinner.

“I’m surprised you asked me. I thought you’d be inundated with offers.” You said, only half joking as you turned the parsnips in their tray. Jamie who was mulching the cranberries for the sauce like his life depended on it, just shrugged and muttered a ‘not really’. He wished he’d asked you to actually spend Christmas with him properly and not to do him a favour but doing so now would seem last minute and you’d already told him you were dropping in to the Higgins later.

As if on cue, your phone beeped from across the room and you swung the dish towel over your shoulder, not noticing Jamie staring as you flicked up to read Jan’s Whatsapp, watching your face for any signs. Trying to see if you’d added any little hearts next to his name or if you replied to him with twice as many X’s as you gave anyone else.

Ever since Jamie had realised he’d fallen for you, he’d became somewhat obsessed with trying to work out what was going on between you and his teammate. He’d never ask Jan directly. Having been on the receiving end of one of Jan’s blunt comments, Jamie didn’t want to risk hearing something he didn’t want to. With the team still giving him the cold shoulder more often than not, he considered asking Keeley. He’d seen you and her talking sometimes and wondered if it would be weird to ask his ex before realising if he did ask Keeley anything, there was the risk that Roy Kent would overhear and Jamie couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing.

“Richard brought a girl to the Higgins’ party.“ you laughed, letting Jamie know what was happening “Jan just told me.”

“Of course he did” Jamie laughed “Not surprised. He’d bring a girl to training if thought he’d get away with it.”

“Thought that would have been you?” You teased back only to get an eye roll and elbow nudge in response.

After a few minutes, you walked around his kitchen to check the table was set and were surprised to see he’d done a decent job of it.

“I think you’re all set. I promise you can take all the credit. You just need to take the turkey out when she gets here and put the Yorkshires in. They’ll be done quickly so don’t burn them. Desserts are in the fridge.”

Jamie looked a little reluctant and you had to admit the idea of a footballer who regularly played in front of thousands of people being nervous about presenting a Christmas dinner to his mum was a little funny.

“It’ll be good. Trust me…oh wait!” Your face lit up as you suddenly remembered “I have a present for you!” Before he had the chance to respond you’d dashed out into the hall, retrieved the gift from beside where you left your coat and returned back and pushed it into his hands.

After making a show of rattling it to try sense what was inside, Jamie unwrapped it carefully. Your eyes focused in on his face looking for any sign, hoping he liked the gift and you’d hadn’t made things weird.

In the box was a pair of his boots, the same brand his mum had got him, like his first pair. Jamie lifted them out carefully, and turned them over in his hand to see them.

“They’re obviously not the exact pair but they’re customs, I asked Sam what brand they were and they don’t do the exact ones anymore but I found some guy online and…they’re pretty much the same…If you can’t wear them for games because of sponsorships or whatever, you can maybe use them for training or you can return them, i won’t be offended, I just…”

“Thank you.” Jamie was quiet, staring down at the boots before his eyes turned on you “this is the nicest present anyone has ever given me. I, um… thank you.” He repeated finding himself rendered somewhat speechless at what thought you’d put in and how you were clearly worried he wouldn’t like it.

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to do something for you…”

“It’s not nothing, I actually do really like them and I’m definitely wearing them. Next game. Thank you.” Jamie paused, his head was only filled with thoughts of how much he wanted to kiss you here in his kitchen, how much he wanted to ask you to stay with him, to spend the rest of the day with him, eating Christmas dinner with his mum and sharing the big box of Roses chocolates and watching any Christmas special just because and then dancing to whatever Christmas song came on, late into the evening.

“Actually I… I got you something too.”

“You got me a present?” Your eyebrows raised in a playful manner “It’s not like a signed picture of you or anything is it? Because if it is, it’s going on eBay.”

“No. Uh…two minutes alright?” Jamie left the room and returned a few minutes later, a poorly wrapped present in his hands. “Sorry about the shit wrapping.”

You laughed and unwrapped it, your face breaking out into a big smile as you found the present “no way!”“This is the coolest thing ever!”

A quiet, comfortable silence had fallen between the two of you over your FaceTime call, you’d just finished laughing about Jamie telling you how he broke into his schools tuck shop as a kid and stole six packets of malteasers. It should have been just a funny childhood anecdote shared with a friend and yet the comments you’d made a while ago itched at the back of Jamie’s mind. “You never asked me about myself, surprised you even remembered my name.” He’d gotten to know you since of course but he wanted to know more, he wanted you to tell him everything, like he was making up for looking through you before.

“Tell me something funny you did when you was kid” He asked before he could stop himself.

“Oh.” You shifted putting your phone down, thinking for a moment. “Ah okay I’ve got it!” You grinned “don’t laugh!” You made him promise.

“When I was a little kid, like I’m talking pre-primary school age, I had this cream cardigan, big daisies and red roses stitched all over it and I would wear it everywhere. I’d put it on to walk to school and cry when Miss Neil made me take it off, when I came home and my mum had to wash it, I’d sit by the washing machine and then in the garden waiting for it to dry. I’d even wear it when it was summer and it was probably too warm, I wore it even when it didn’t go with my outfit. I was not a fashion forward kid”

Jamie started laughing and couldn’t suppress it even over your protests that he promised he wouldn’t.

“What happened to it? The cardigan? You still have it?”

You pouted half jokingly “It got left on a plane on the way back from Tenerife. I cried so much, my dad rang Gatwick and the airport in Tenerife but no one ever turned it in. I’d have outgrown it but I loved that cardigan so much” you said wistfully “I was so annoyed thinking of some random person with my cardigan… I’ve searched online but there’s nothing like it.”

“Understandable. It sounds peak nineties” Jamie remarked with a raised eyebrow

“Oi. It would be considered vintage now” you laughed “Teenagers on depop would pay mega money for that.”

You picked it up and held it against you before putting it straight on without checking for tags.

“Jamie…” You wrapped it tight and folded your arms around you “You remembered! I feel a bit bad for joking now”

“Don’t…don’t…you don’t need to say anything.” Seeing you happy hit him like a brick wall. All he wanted was you smiling at him like you were doing now. His voice was quiet and he could feel the tension, he needed to do something, anything to dissipate it, if he didn’t…Jamie feared he’d just come out with it. “You have the real deal anyway, you don’t need a photo” He settled for a joke.

“Thank you!” You beamed at him and got up to kiss his cheek. “This is the coolest present ever!”

How was it that he’d never been short on attention from women but a kiss on the cheek from you had the biggest effect on him like he was a teenage boy again the first time he fancied a girl.

“Thank you for mine. And for all this…You really sure you can’t stay? It’ll just be me and mum and she’ll fall asleep after Eastenders.”

“Call me when she does. If I’m up, we can FaceTime” you still had your cardigan on and slipped your coat on over the top. “Maybe we can watch one of the Home Alones or Elf together.”

“I love Elf. It’s like my favourite film after Ratatouille.” He grinned at you and you laughed as you reached up and hugged him.

“I know. Merry Christmas Jamie.” You kissed him on the cheek once more

“Merry Christmas, [Name],”

***short time skip***

The addition of Roy to the coaching staff had gone perfectly…except for the one pretty major hiccup of Jamie clashing with him daily and on one occasion, making his way to your place after training to ask if you thought he had bad hair prompting you to wonder what exactly was going on.

A few days later and you were anxiously waiting on the final whistle in the quarter final against Tottenham, Jamie had played incredibly. A goal from right outside the box and only a minute ago he’d scored what looked like it would be the winner. At the sound of the whistle, you were up on your feet and running down to the tunnel. The moment you saw Jamie you ran to him and pulled him into a hug, him lifting you up and holding you flush against him for a few moments.

“You were amazing!” You enthused, looking up at him as you separated. “That free kick in the first half was one of the best ever seen! And a last minute goal… that’s the best game I’ve ever seen you play.”

Jamie grinned on a high from the result, his performance and now you gushing about him, telling him so earnestly how good he was felt amazing. For a moment he could forget you were in the Nelson Road tunnel with a little over 25,000 people just outside and other players and staff milling around you.

“Thanks. My first goal was good wasn’t it?” He was standing so confidently. It had turned out being a prick worked for him…so long as he kept it to the pitch. You liked seeing him back to the player you knew he could be.

“That’s goal of month, maybe even the season!”You reached up and fixed his hair without even thinking “Go celebrate. you deserve this.”

“Come out with me… I mean come out with us, we’re going out, all of us, you should come” Jamie said all at once.

“Sure I’ll come for one!” You nodded.

Across the bar, you could see a girl who looked like she could have walked off the set of Keeping Up with the Kardashians lean over and talk to Richard who was responding by pouring her a glass of wine, no doubt feeding her some sort of cheesy chat up line.

Jamie slid into the booth beside you, and, with the slight contact your knee made against his, he felt himself relax.

“That’s probably the third girl I’ve seen him give his number to tonight” he commented and you laughed, pleased to see him join you in your people watching.

“Welcome to being on this side of the fence.” You leant in close to him so you could talk.

“She not your type?” You asked curiously. “She’s alive isn’t she?” You teased. Jamie hadnt dated since Keeley, or rather, since his stint on the show if you could call that dating. It did seem a little odd to you that he’d never once mentioned anyone despite your fast formed friendship and everything else he’d willingly shared with you.

Jamie shook his head. “Nah i’m…”. How could he tell you he didn’t want anyone else other than you. “I’m not…nah not really doing that kinda thing anymore.”

Even if he tried, Jamie doubted he could bring himself to show any enthusiasm for chatting up anyone else anymore. How could he consider anyone else when it felt like you were the only person in the room who saw him. You actually saw him for him in his worst moments and still wanted to be around him. How could he not want you?

Your heart was beating as you took in Jamie’s response. It was only a short response but it set the smallest of sparks in your stomach and you took a swig from the bottle of cider in your hand to distract yourself from running over what that meant. Was he not interested in anyone? Was there something he wasn’t saying?

Looking for something to change the subject before it became awkward, your eyes fell to your phone, flat against the table, and you started at the clock telling you it was 00:10. Somewhat grateful for the easy out, you picked it up and slipped it into your back.

“I’m going to head home, I have an early start tomorrow.”

“Can i walk you home?” Jamie felt a little dejected but wouldn’t pass up the chance to spend time with you just one on one. “I don’t mind leaving now?”

You were grateful and almost wished you could take him up on it. Maybe when you were alone you could ask him more about what he meant.

How badly you wanted to say yes. Yes to him walking you home and how you’d hope on the walk home you’d maybe have enough courage to invite him in and up to your bedroom. The experience with your ex still lingered and you never ever thought it would be Jamie Tartt of all people to make you want to throw your one rule out of the window.

But he wasn’t the Jamie of old. This Jamie was funny and caring, he’d bring you a tea every morning before training, he’d call you and he’d ask you to go do “intellectual stuff” with him when he was too self conscious to go himself. He’d run through ideas or tactics he had with you and even ask you to watch his highlight reels, not for vanity but because he wanted a fans opinion, he’d get you to come out to dinners with him when he was offered free food at restaurants and throughout all of this, you were just his friend, his loyal best friend, when you were internally screaming that you wanted him.

Realising you hadn’t said anything in a few seconds, you quickly found a response “you’re the best for offering but… Jan’s offered to drive me. He’s not been drinking so it’s fine. He’s dropping off Colin too if you need a lift, I can ask him? I’m sure he won’t mind?” You asked, hoping Jamie would accept and you’d just both get out at his or yours.

Jamie felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach.

Of course. Jan. Were you going back to his? Did you talk to Jan the way you talked to him? What had happened to “I don’t date footballers” or was that just your way of telling him you’d never want him like he wanted you? There was a part of him screaming to retreat, make an excuse, go home, move on but Jamie didn’t want to do that. He wanted to ask you outright but he couldn’t push the words out. So he did neither and just sat there.

“It’s okay.” He said forcing a smile. “Someone has to look after Isaac. I’ll get a taxi”

“Are you sure? If you want we can-…”

“Hey. Are you ready?” the Dutch centre-back interrupted from the aisle between tables before Jamie could reply “Some of us need sleep.” He teased, pointing at Colin who was leaning to one side, almost asleep on Moe’s shoulder “and I don’t want him to sleep in my car. Last time I had to let him sleep on my sofa.”

You laughed and almost as if he heard his teammate Colin jolted awake muttering he was ready and reaching for his coat.

“Sure I’m ready.” You gave Jamie a hug as you stood up and he watched you go, wishing he’d gone with you the second you were gone.

Jamie had been on edge since it was confirmed that the semi final at Wembley would be against Man City. You knew it had to be related to his dad, to his old club, to how everything was building to such a point that he was wound so tight, you were surprised he hadn’t snapped like an elastic band.

In the fall out from the result to Man City and the altercation with his dad, Jamie had come to you before he’d boarded the bus. He hadn’t needed to say anything, it was all over his face. You could see it. Without even needing to ask, Ted had waved for you to get on the bus with the team. Usually the staff would travel separately if they went to games but in this moment, the coach didn’t question it.

You settled in beside Jamie and shifted so he could rest his head on your shoulder and carefully you reached around so you could put an arm around him too and used your other to take his hand and you would stay that way for the journey back to the training ground where the players had left their cars.

Even as you exited the coach, you could tell he was tense, and as you walked him to his car, you could barely hear him when he came out with it.

“Are you okay?” You asked him once he’d done explaining “I’m so sorry Jamie. Your dad really is a prick”

Before Jamie replied, he looked up and over you across the car park, his eyes caught those of his teammate.

“I, uh, I will be. Fresh air is doing me good. I think I need to go home and sleep.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Jamie. I’m not an idiot. You need to talk?”

He pushed a hand back through his hair and with one look in your eyes conceded with a nod

After driving back to his and getting into his house, Jamie dropped onto the sofa, not bothering to change out of the training kit he’d travelled in. You made him a decaf tea and took a spot next to him on his sofa and let him lean back on you as listened to him tell you everything

“Was that the first time you’d…”

“Hit him back?” Jamie’s eyes didn’t lift from the spot in the middle distance. “Yeah. Couldn’t really fight back as a kid.”

“I was going to say ‘seen him since you left…” you kept your arm around him, loosely tracing in a manner you hoped was soothing. “But I’d guess same answer.”

Jamie lifted his head off your shoulder for a second. “Erm…” His dad had contacted him a few times whilst he’d played for City. Mostly asking for free tickets, to meet the rest of the team and to get tours of the ground. Jamie had given in reluctantly on the first one and skirted around the final two. “Yeah… I guess he wasn’t arsed about me playing for Richmond. Cant brag about me if I’m in the Championship and he can’t be fucked getting the train down to London”

“Jamie.” You tried “you deserve so much better…He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.” You reassured him “you’ve been amazing these past few months Jamie. The best you’ve played. I know you probably wouldn’t want him at Richmond but still…his loss”

“Only got him the tickets to get him off my back and he didn’t even fucking support me. Went in the City end. Don’t know what I was expecting”

You imagined that must have stung for him. His dad feigning an interest just to turn around and support the team playing against his son. His old club, to add insult to injury.

“How do you feel now?” You asked cautiously. “Must have been hard for you to stand up to him…given how long he’s been…like that for?”

“I mean… shit because he’s my dad but he doesn’t act like he is, but like…I don’t regret it or anything…I just got fucking shit of it yknow…slagging me off, the club off…putting me down in front of everyone…and he’ll show up next time, if we get promoted he’ll be after tickets again…”

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t get near. You never have to deal with that again Jamie. You shouldn’t have had to take it back then and you don’t now”

“Thanks.” He added on “For… not just staying here but…for like always having time for me and that.”

“I’ll always have time for you Jamie.”

***a few weeks later***

The yearly charity gala had come around fast and unlike last year, you had actually looked forward to it this year. In the weeks leading up to it, you’d picked out a new outfit including new shoes.

Jamie had agreed to pick you up, asking you the second you’d said you were going and you’d agreed. Since you’d spent the night at his, completely platonically, Jamie’s already overwhelming feelings towards you had grown even more and you showing up to a charity gala with his teammate was the last thing he wanted and even though he’d spent the entire day telling himself this wasn’t a date, he still felt nervous as he rang your doorbell.

The second you opened it, he couldn’t help but break out into a big smile “You look… really good.” He nodded “this new?”

“Thank you” you accepted his compliment, nodding as you stepped aside to let him in “So do you. Not auctioning yourself off tonight?”

“Nah I’m not feeling up for it this year.”

Your eyes scanned his suit before realising his tie was slightly off “Can I?” You pointed at it.

You waited for him to nod before stepping in to fix his tie, before realising it needed a re-do.

“You know I’ve not had to wear a tie since school, but I reckon I could do a better job of it than this.” You joked, pulling the knot by his neck and re opening the fabric.

“You wore your tie? Don’t think I went a week without forgetting mine.” Jamie laughed.

“I was Deputy Head Girl.” You felt a little bit red, like suddenly you were back at school being paired with the popular boy for a project. “Kinda had to.” You looped it around before sliding it into place.

You shook the thought from your head. This was Jamie. Your friend. He could date anyone he wanted, why would he go out with someone normal and ordinary.

Jamie watched you in concentration for a few seconds before he couldn’t help himself.

“He’s punching going out with you, you know” the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He couldn’t help himself. Jamie didn’t mean it, at least, he didn’t mean it as it sounded. Jan was fine and of course he would be your exception to your rule. He seemed like he’d be your type. Still it stung. He wasn’t used to not getting the girls he liked…but maybe he should have expected it. You weren’t interested in the fame that attracted girls to athletes normally so of course you wouldn’t want him. You probably liked Jan because he was honest, funny and spoke three languages rather than the money and fame.

You stopped what you were doing, hands still on his tie, confused.

“What are you on about?”

“Yknow…Jan. You’re way too fit for him.”

“I’m not going out with Jan.”

You made sure it was centred before letting go of the fabric and suddenly aware of your close proximity, you stepped back.

“He takes you home and stuff…I figured you two were.”

“Shagging?” You came straight out with it, eyebrows raised

“Well…yeah?” He shrugged. “Ain’t you with him?”

Who’d have thought it. Jamie Tartt, who you’d considered the biggest arsehole you’d ever met a few months back, now being protective over you. It was weirdly quite sweet. Truth be told, you’d warmed to Jamie. A lot. If anyone had told you that last season you’d have thought they’d gone mad. When he’d left Richmond, you’d never even expected to see him in person again, let alone be friends with him.

“Jan’s just a friend…Didn’t realise anyone had noticed…also… surprised you remembered my…thing about footballers”

“I’m glad you’re not with him cause, yknow he’s…”

“Are you going to call someone else a prick?” Your head tilted to the side, hair falling with it. “Because if you are, that’s pretty fucking ironic.”

Jamie opened and closed his mouth, ready to reply when he saw you were half smiling.

“I’m messing with you...again” you teased and Jamie remembered the conversation he’d had with you outside the hotel in Manchester. Only this time you were looking at him differently. Back then you were looking at him like he was lost, now he’d swear you were… almost looking at him with affection.

“Nah, hes… he’s alright yknow just he’s not…” Jamie paused. He couldn’t say ‘not good enough’ because if Jan wasn’t the type of footballer you’d date, Jamie knew he definitely wouldn’t be. “Not who i picture you with.”

“Who do you picture me with?”

You were looking up at him, genuine interest on your face like you were waiting on a serious answer.

“I, uh, I don’t know.” The twisting in his stomach had been replaced and now the weight of relief, finding out you weren’t actually with Jan had lifted he didn’t know exactly what to say. With other girls he’d never had a problem asking them out but you? It was always different with you. “Just someone else.”

“Jamie…what’s going on?” you reached up and gently tilted his face so you could look at him. In spite of your confident action, your heart was hammering against your chest.

He let out a deep breath, eyes flickering over you for a moment, before he came out with it

“When I thought you were going out with Jan Maas. It was driving me mad.”

“Why?”

“I…I guess maybe I was jealous or something?”

“Thought you didn’t get jealous.” You’d heard all about his escapades with other women via the press and via various clips people had sent you of him on his TV show.

“I don’t not normally …” Jamie played with the cuff links absentmindedly. He sighed and looked down and then back up at you “I don’t wanna be like that anymore…I just,” he paused.

“Look” you said again “whatever you want to say… you can tell me…”

Jamie didn’t know what was holding him back. “I want to be the kind of guy you’d go out with, i don’t wanna disrespect you, and like I don’t want to ruin us being mates but…I really, really like you.”

“Jamie.” You laced your hand with his, feeling a swelling in your chest “I wish you’d told me sooner…You already are…you are the kind of guy I’d go out with.”

“What?”

“You are…the type of guy that I’d go out with.” You repeated with a reassurance in your voice “How could you not be? You’re sweet, you’re funny, you make me laugh…you listen…”

Jamie felt his heart hard against his chest, barely able to let your words sink in. “So if I asked you out? you’d go out with me?”

“Of course I will.” You squeezed his hand gently and as his shoulders relaxed and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as he dropped his forehead to yours.

“I can’t believe Jamie Tartt was worried about asking me out. You’ve been out with like models and stuff…and it’s me that you were worried about.”

He sighed “Yeah but that’s why I like you…cause you’re you.”

Come on. Let’s go to this auction.”

“Together yeah?”

“Of course. Good job your shirt matches my outfit…or you’d have to change” you teased.

Cue when you walked in hand in hand, Jamie was greeted by about half the team congratulating him on you two finally getting it together, including Jan who’d found it hilarious that Jamie had thought something was going on between you too.

***

Jamie had, with the best intentions, planned a perfect evening. A few days after you’d accepted him asking you out, he’d booked a reservation at restaurant he knew you’d like as a surprise knowing that it was one you’d always walked by and remarked it looked nice but never got around to trying it .

Things had not gone as planned.

After you’d arrived at the restaurant, you’d found out they’d closed due to a leak in the kitchen, you’d suggested going to a local bar and had lasted all of fifteen minutes before a drunk man in a too tight t shirt had knocked his pint over you and staggered off without apologising much to your ire. Jamie had wanted to go after the man and tell him to apologise but you’d just wanted to leave. Only ten minutes after leaving, Jamie had been approached by a group of kids looking for pictures and autographs and only a few seconds later, the skies opened and despite trying to huddle under a canopy of a nearby, closed cafe, you got soaked. Jamie, whilst taking photos with the young kids gave you a mouthed sorry but you told him to carry on knowing it would make the kids day.

Once he was done, he jogged back over to you, now shivering slightly and offered you his coat as you ran back to his

“You look really fit in my stuff. You should keep them.” Jamie remarked as you flopped down next to him on the sofa, now wearing a oversized tee and joggers that he’d pulled out for you to wear whilst your actual outfit was in his washing machine.

“Sorry the date was shit.” He added on as he ran a towel over his damp hair.

“Could have been worse” you shrugged with a smile as you dried off your own hair. “I’ve had worse dates.”

He let out a sigh and laid back on the sofa “I just wanted to take you out some place dead nice.”

“Jamie...that’s so sweet but you don’t have to. I just like being with you.” You shifted closer to him and scooted under his arm to rest on his chest. “I don’t care if it’s at a restaurant or like this…”

“I promise we’ll go out somewhere proper next time.” He leant down and kissed you softly. Dating you made Jamie felt like he’d finally got everything he’d ever wanted, and he was kicking himself for not asking you out the second he realised he had feelings for you.

“I could do that all day” You muttered against his lips as you separated briefly.

He placed a hand on your cheek and brushed your hair back before kissing you again. “Don’t think we could do this in the restaurant.”

You smiled against his mouth “well we could but probably wouldn’t be allowed back…”

“Maybe we can go back when they’ve fixed the leak and try?” Jamie made a joke and you playfully swatted him before kissing him again.

“Oh, Im holding you to that…”

***

Dating Jamie was so easy. Much easier than you’d thought. It was just like it was when you were friends but he’d always be taking your hand or wrapping an arm around you or kissing you…and of course you’d spend the night together rather than driving home after meeting up. When people had said date your best friend you’d never actually thought it could be possible.

Any fears or ghosts of your past that lingered over the bad experience with your ex were soon quashed by Jamie. Before you’d got together, you’d found it somewhat bittersweet that it was the former ladies man that you’d fallen for after swearing off dating footballers but now that you woke up to him every other morning and got to see him being the absolute perfect boyfriend to you, it just made sense.

So much so that eventually you’d caved and told him the name of the player you’d went out with before and Jamie had been thrilled to learn your ex was a goalkeeper and had made a promise to you he’d score against him.

You’d found it adorably sweet in the moment and incredibly hot when he followed through with his promise not once but twice, securing a brace and a win in the same game and making a big show of pointing at you and blowing a kiss into the stands. He’d almost been late in the next morning.

Jamie knew he loved you. Maybe it had started when you’d given him that chance in Manchester. You didn’t have to. If you’d told him to piss off, Jamie wouldn’t have blamed you but you hadn’t. You’d seen something in him, maybe believed in him deep down and now he was a better man, in part due to you.

The final game of the season was a whirlwind of emotions and knowing he’d be nervous for the game that could earn Richmond promotion back into the Premier League you’d snuck into the tunnel to see him just before he went out

“Good luck today babe.” You leant up and kissed him gently. “No matter what happens. I’m so proud of you, the player you are and the man you are.”

“Thanks” his eyes met yours “I, uh could have never done it without you.”

“Course you could. The talents all yours”

“I mean the…” Jamie paused, before looking at your shirt. He turned you around. “You’re wearing my shirt” he grinned at you and held up your arm so he could twirl you and see his name on your Richmond shirt. “Looks good on you”

“Course I am. Who else’s shirt would I wear.” You leant in and kissed him once more before the sound of the rest of the team approaching signalled it was time for you to go join the rest of the fans in the stands. “Smash it for me babe.”

Upon the final whistle, the coaching staff and bench descended on to the pitch to celebrate and you couldn’t help yourself.

You ran down to the barrier, dug into your bag to flash your work lanyard at a steward and ran on yourself, calling out to Jamie as you approached.

He caught you as you jumped into an embrace, quickly asking if he was okay after he was fouled in the lead up to Richmonds penalty. Jamie nodded.

“Yea yeah I’m fine babe. I’ve never been happier.” He looked breathless, a mixture of excitement, energy and adrenaline from the game.

“I love you Jamie.”

He kissed you deeply, passionately, caught up in the moment and not caring about the thousands of surrounding people, happy to be celebrating with you and the team.

“I love you. Next year I’m going to win you the whole thing”

#jamie tartt x reader #Jamie Tartt imagine #Ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfiction #Jamie Tartt #Jamie Tartt fanfic

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ktchie · 6 months

Text

'Save a horse ride a cowboy'

Ted x reader

Fluff and smut

♡additional tags: smut, p in v, creampie, reader hates Halloween, Ted in a cowboy costume, a little daddy kink, She/her pronouns.

♤7.4k words

◇ she hates Halloween but maybe Ted can change that?

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Her dreaded day is fast approaching, the leaves scattered around the ground - brown and dry from the autumn.

A lone pumpkin, yellow and bright under the shying sun, glare at her from a stairwell of a random flat. Its triangle eyes, hollow from any emotion and sympathy seemingly bore into her as if telling her to submit to its command and the inevitable event that will happen 2 days from now.

She averted her eyes quickly, sweat dripped down her nape as she fasten her pace.

She hated Halloween more than any day there is, she would rather choose her family's dysfunctional Christmas dinner with 5 grown adults yelling at eachother and 3 crying children than be caught dead wearing a ridiculous costume that would tarnish her reputation and self image.

Contrary to Roy, she doesnt hate Halloween because of the loud children and their questionable attire that varies from appropriate character from a cartoon show or a superhero franchise and to some wierd and super inappropriate costume that would and will get a atleast 50 concern side eyes (like a nun smoking a tobacco or pope Francis with devil horns and blood pouring out of his mouth)

She hated Halloween because of her coworkers (mainly Rebecca, keeley and Higgins) and their insistent for her to wear a bloody costumes every damn year. Rebecca would email her and would ask her what she will be going as on the Halloween, the first few times it would only be an additional note, a passing normal interest at the month of October but as the day goes by and the 3rd week rolls around Rebecca's previous important email that is relevant to the well being of the club was replaced by a 5 to 10 sentence regarding the importance of Halloween and how essential it is, to both to yourself and to others, to wear a costume and to have fun. The email will come to her 2 times in one day, sometimes even 3 and in worst times even 5 (if Rebecca is really desperate or in a sour mood) which will automatically go into her spam folder.

And it is also widely known on Richmond that Keeley Jones goes a little unhinged whenever the month of October rolls by. Her energy seems to crank up to its highest peak when the autumn breeze finally grace her skin. So naturally, Halloween would be a BIG BIG deal for her. Massive deal. A deal the size of Asia and Europe combined. A deal that she, unfortunately, has to deal with too.

Keeley Jones, despite of having a own company of her to run, was quiet frequent on the Afc Richmond building. Always lurking on the hallway with her bright pink shoes and heart melting grin (in the normal month) however, when its October - Keleey's only destination is her own fucking office. She would burst in guns blazing and teeth bared with no knocking whatsoever and ask her (more like yelled at her) what her costume will be on Halloween, in which she would proceed to answer with 'none' which in return would make Keeley Jones fumed with anger and rant about her being no fun while calling her all kinds of creative names under the sun.

The two women was both amusing and irritating at the same time, she had to admit that their desperation to get her to celebrate the nonsense Holliday of the 31st of October was quiet funny in their own way. What is not funny however is Higgins..

Leslie Higgins, a man as gentle as a falling feather and whose laugh could light up the entire room, can actually turn into a 10feet tall demonic entity whenever he heard 'Halloween' and 'no costume' in one sentence. Maybe it has something to do with him being a father of 5 children, getting so used to dressing them up that it was downright ridiculous and criminal that she wouldn't. He would breath heavily like a bull whenever she say no and he would look at her in the eye and speak to her, though very calmly she could very well see the veins throbbing on his forehead, and would explain how important it is for her to dress up and to celebrate the day because if he wouldn't he would no longer talk to her and would rather die than be near her ever again (dramatic, but something tells her he wasn't lying)

So, in a desperate attempt to make him leave and calm down she had agreed, she told Leslie she's going to dress up and that he doesn't have to worry about anything else.

She's still deciding if she's lying or not.

She opened her front door with a sigh, the exhaustion visible on her tired eyes.

She had gone home more later than everyone else because of the heavy work load that she had let pile up over the last few weeks due to her avoidance to go to work and accidently bump into the monster trio.

She sat down on her couch before throwing her shoes somewhere in the room, groaning in pleasure as her back met the soft cushion.

The comfort of her own home enveloping her suddenly, all the tension gone from her shoulder and all the worrying thoughts of her work vanish from her head.

Then her phone rang,

"Goddammit.." she mumbled with a frown, head thrown back and eyes closed. She let it rung for a few second before reaching for it.

"Hello?" Her voice was groggy, a clear indication she was tired.

"Yellow!" Ted's voice were loud on the other side of the phone, awfully cheery despite it being late in the evening. "You takin' a nap? You sounds a lil' raspy, oh no I didnt wake ya up did i?"

A soft smile made its way on her lips, a smile only Ted could make. "Uh no, I was about to though. I just got back from work"

"You just got back?! Don't office hours end at 5?!"

"Got alot of work that held me back, I don't want to let it keep piling up on my desk like a leaning tower of Pisa"

"Darn, you must have a heck of a day" she hummed in confirmation before closing her eyes again. "Have you even had lunch yet? Ya didnt came in the locker room earlier, thought ya had lunch on your own but now I have a suspicion that you didnt eat at all"

She took her time to answer, Ted's voice bringing her comfort and making her a little drowsy. "Didnt eat lunch, im planning to order a pizza later for dinner"

"You sounds really tired, darlin' and listen, I know I ain't exactly the proper man to tell ya this but pizza ain't good for ya" Ted had replied, a hint of worry on his voice. "Pizza is a-okay once a week, but you been eatin' it nonstop these days, im gettin' a lil worried"

"Im not going to suddenly drop dead because of pizza, that will be a humiliating way to go out" she replied with a sigh, scratching her eye. "But sure whatever, ill have a cup of tea instead"

"I still can't believe y'all drink that sewer water willingly, you better eat something good with that garbage drink"

"I don't know what else to eat beside pizza if I'm being honest and I'm too fucking tired to cook anything else" she groaned and adjust herself on the coach. "I'll just have a big breakfast tomorrow"

"Are you tellin' me that tea is only thing you'll be having tonight?" he had stated, putting a harsh emphasis on the word 'tea' as if it was someone he wanted to kill.

"Am I hearin' you right, hun? Not only did you not eat lunch but you are willingly, without a gun to your pretty little head, going to drink that poop water and nothin' else?"

She laugh lightly and she desperately try to ignore the sick sick part of her brain that is telling her she looks like a giggling love sick school girl talking to her crush. "Yes Ted, im going to drink tea and only tea and head to bed. If you and a perfectly fine beverage have some beef going on, leave me out of it. I can't let you persuade me on hating our national drink and risk the Queen catching a whiff of my traitorous blood and shoot me in the head"

"She would do that?" Ted asked, genuinely afraid.

She chuckled "no, Ted. I'm fucking with you" she settled deep on the cushions, fully laying herself down.

"She'll hire a few men to raid my house and make my death look like a suicide"

"Oh well thats smart, but I prefer if you're alive and well"

She laugh a little "do you need something, Ted? Its quiet late, shouldn't you be watching some trashy reality show right now?"

"Oh it can wait, I can have coach beard summarize the love island for me tomorrow" he cheerily replied and some part of her are envious of him being so happy in such a tiring night. "I called ya because I wanna know what you'll be wearin' on Halloween night"

A glass shattered on the background and the small smile plastered on her lips fell as quickly as she can blink.

"Jesus christ, not you too" she groaned lowly, eyes closing not in exhaustion but in irritation.

"What? Just askin' cause im gosh darn curious! I asked boss what you'll be goin' as but she pulled a funny face and told me to ask you myself!"

She cursed Rebecca in her brain.

"What brought this on anyway?" She wiped her face with her hand with a sighed.

"Oh well our resident genius Nathan Shelby told me that Rebecca host the best Halloween party every year and it got me all kinds of exicted! 'Been awhile since I went to one of those, in college I always go to parties y'know? Even nonsense ones, I mostly went for the booze and the free food cause I was hella broke and I ain't got no money to even feed myself" Ted voice went down a little at the end, as if reminiscing the time where he couldn't even find a single nickle on his wallet. "So it got me thinkin' that I should really go all out this year, don't ya think so? My first party ever since I turned 30, I don't even know If I can still chug an entire jug of beer but we'll see"

"Jesus Ted, you sounds like frat boy" she grimaced lightly but a pleasant image of Ted wearing a backwards cup and a stupid grin on his baby face got her all giggly.

Maybe he'll let her do a body shot on him, lick the fucking salt on his neck and take him home to her flat the next minute.

"Oh I was a frat boy, alright! Got nothin' better to do in college than cause trouble and play football - y'know the one with a brown ball that looks like a wallnut? That football - though i didn't get to play much, coach said i was too giddy and too happy, that instead of making the other team annoyed i cheer them up, its crazy even Beardo said so. Speaking of Beard he was a beast back then! You should've seen him! You'll love him, he's always laughing and always loud, got in all kinds of bad troubles but he set himself straight in the end. I'm very proud of him"

She heard their story before from beard, or willis (he had revealed his name after weeks of nonstop questioning and obnoxious teasing) she had learned how they came to be Ted and Beard, how insufferable they were like two giggling school girls that had known eachother since birth. How beard became beard and how much an asshole (his own words, not hers) he was to Ted back then. He had told her the time he was sleeping on his couch, how his back felt funny and ache weirdly every morning, how he could map out Ted's house with his eyes closed and ears shut because of how much time he spent in there. How Henry felt so much like his kid, how he watch him grew up and how he had been there when the kid lost his first tooth or rode his own bike.

He owes Ted alot, he had told her. Said he would lay his down his life for him with no question ask and no hesitation on his mind. That Ted is kindest man he had ever met, that he see no wrong in someone even when its staring at him right in the face, even when his own friend stole the car he had been saving for since high-school and almost wreck it.

"Im sure you are, Ted" she replied, picking a piece of loose thread on her couch pillow. "I uh, I don't think I'll attend the party"

"YOU WHAT?!"

She quickly pull the phone away from her ear with a grimaced."Yeahhhh, I just don't really like partying"

"THATS A LIE! I KNOW YOU'RE LYIN' YOU KNOW WHAT? IM COMING OVER RIGHT NOW-"

"Ted im really tired-"

"And I'll make you more tired, don't you dare lock your door or I'll break it in I swear to god-"

She laughed lightly "are you actually going to come over? This is crazy Ted, and for what? Because I'm not coming to that stupid party?"

"IT AINT STUPID, YOU WATCH YOUR MOUTH!" He breathed heavily and she hear a clang of keys followed by a loud thump and a whisper of curse. "-shit, bump my darn knee on the table. This is your fault"

"Im not even there, Ted. That's all on you"

"Yeah but you got me all panicky and annoyed, im comin' over there I'm bringing my left over pasta so you could put a decent meal on your tummy"

God she's so stupidly inlove with him. "Is it your famous spaghetti that you have been bragging about these past few weeks? I heard its good, keleey said its to die for"

"Quit being sweet to me, missy. I'm still annoyed and I'm still comin' over and once I get there we're goin' to eat my pasta and talk about your bad decision okay? Like a proper talk, like a therapy session Dr. Sharon and I been doin' these past few weeks"

"Do I have to cry and tell you my childhood problems and let you figure out how it connects to my annoyance on Halloween?"

"See? Youre already pro at this, just sit pretty and wait for me"

She chuckled lightly and stretched, yawning. "Are you really going to come over?" She had asked "Cause I think I'm about to fall asleep now"

"Ya can fall asleep once I get there and after we ate my pasta, m'kay?" Ted replied followed by a front door closing and being locked.

She blink sleepy as she listen to him "alright, ill wait for you"

"Atta girl" he whispered and she tried to ignore the heat on her stomach as he did so.

Ted arrived with a loud bang, her door hitting the wall so hard she thought it would bust a hole in.

"What the hell?!" She lightly yelled before laughing, watching as Ted pant with a Tupperware of spaghetti on his left hand.

"Sorry, god, wait gotta catch my breath first" he hit his chest a couple of times and cough a little. "Okay, sorry, got excited. But I brought my spaghetti!" He raised it with a large grin, dimple and teeth out and oh she wish she could kiss him right there.

"I see that you did" she leaned on the marble bar of her kitchen as she watched him walked over to her, eyes ranking up and down.

God he looks good, how dare he?

"And I see that you're still sleepy" he grinned and put the tupper wear down beside her, looking down to meet her eyes.

"Gonna put you to bed, after our talk m'kay?"

"That a promise?" She blinked at him flirty, a sweet smirk playing on her lips.

"N-not that kind of put to bed" Ted looks panicky, flushing pink on her gaze.

"Bummer" she mumbled with a pout before straightening her posture. "Come help me with plates, let's talk while we eat yeah?"

"Y-yeah"

Okay, maybe her drowsiness is making her a little more bolder, more braver, more yearnful for what she wants. Makes her want to capture his very being on her palm and not let go until the sky fall from above.

She wouldn't flirt with him on a good day, wouldn't even smirk at him if she can help it. He's a recently divorced man who has eyes as sad as whimpering puppy, looking anything and anywhere with a kind of desperation you would only find on someone so despondent and so so alone. He wasn't available on the public market, wasn't meant to be courted when she knows his heart still depict someone's else image, she knows he loves Michelle, miss her everyday, and she knows deep on her bones she could not barge in roses in her mouth and poems on her hand and offer to take him out on a date he would never forget.

"Why is the spaghetti cold?" She asked with a frown as she took a bite, water on her side instead of wine because Ted insisted that she should drink something normal for once.

"Spgahti ish dbest win clmpd" she frowned and watched him hold a finger up before swallowing his food. "Sorry. i said spaghetti is the best when its cold"

"Well its not bad" she shrugged as she ate it. "So how's your day? Heard Roy got mad on Jaime again, per usual of course, but this time he was about to tear his throat out"

Ted nod his head "yes, yes, ill tell ya all 'bout it later but first were gotta talk about the Halloween party"

She groaned loudly, throwing her head back. "Must we do this? Really?"

"Yes, really" he wiped his mouth with a napkin before taking a sip on his water, she could not help but feel like he was about to question her every actions and decision as if she was placed under government surveillance.

"Its really not a big deal, teddy. I just don't like going to parties"

"No, no, I heard ya' goin' to bunch of parties before, specially new-year. You're lyin' to me"

Goddamit.

"Fine" she raised her hand in defense, tired. "Seems like I can't lie my way around here so ill give it to you straight.." she took a deep breath, dreading it. Ted watched her closely, brown eyes boaring into her own and if she wasn't sleepy and wasn't bothered by the topic she would mention how beautiful they are.

"I don't like dressing up"

He slam his fork down. "THATS ABSURD!"

"Wow I didnt expect that big of a reaction at all"

"You tellin' me, someone, someone I gosh darn know! Dont like wearin' costume on Halloween? Thats like- thats like worse than murder!"

Her eyes widen "okay thats a little-"

Ted nod calming down a little "yeah yeah, I know, a little dramatic. It ain't worse than murder at all, I was just-" he poke his heart. "Just lost in the moment AND ITS YOUR FAULT!" he pointed at her

She laughed lightly.

"It wasn't even that bad! I just don't like doing it, its perfectly fine"

"No it ain't! I have never met someone like ya before! People always like dressing up, doesn't matter how bad it looks, Halloween is for everyone, its the only day its legal to pretend you're someone else" he's slowly losing his mind.

"I get that and I fully support that but its just not for me" she explained, finally finished with her spaghetti and she had to admit it was pretty fucking good. "I have to say, you're a good cook i didnt expect-"

"NO! FORGET ABOUT THE GOSH DARN SPAGHETTI!" He pointed at her face

"Youre goin' to the party even if i have to drag your bum in there"

She whistled, eyebrows up and eyes a little wide. "Oh my, I didnt know you're into that"

"Shut it" he stated but the blush on his cheeks are apprent.

"Youre goin' that's final, wrapped your self in a toilet paper if ya don't got any costume, you just have to be there"

"You literally cannot make me" she shrugged, leaning on the chair with arms crossed. "Im not going to that party even if you have to put a gun to my head, I don't like Halloween, I don't like costumes and I dojt like candies"

"YOU DONT LIKE CANDIES-" he stop himself before taking a deep breath, controlling his emotions. "Its like, its like I don't know you at all"

"Ted we've been friends for like 2 years, of course you don't"

Ted shook his head, distraught. As if the revelation of her dislike for the holiday might send him spiral to a pit of hopelessness. "If you ain't goin, im not goin'"

Her eyes widen. "What the hell are you on about?"

He looked up to her, eyes hard, determined. Like a soldier off to war.

'This is ridiculous' she had thought

"I said, im not goin if ya ain't goin"

"Y-you can't do that! The others would kill me!" She yelled, panic settling deep on her guts. Rebecca would literally drag her corpse on the road, yelling shame! Shame! Shame! While the folks of richmond would throw shit at her face. "Ted, they'll do worse than kill me. Keleey would use my skin to make herself a new bag, you can't do this to me"

"Oh I will" he pointed, shoulder squared. "I will blame it all on ya', if they ask why I ain't goin' ill tell them it was you"

"This is crazy! Why are you even doing this?!" She asked him, wanting to laugh and wanting to cry on how fucking mental it is.

"Why do I even- why do you even want me there?!"

"BECAUSE!"

"THATS NOT A PROPER REASON, IDIOT!" she yelled before groaning, throwing her hands up. "FINE! FINE! IM GOING! GOD!"

He then grinned, big, wide and bright that she had to squint. She hates the part of her brain that told her that suffering on the party is all worth it if she could see him like this for a second , smiling just for her. Its crazy how he can make everything more livable just by existing.

"I know ya would come around"

She scoffed "like you just didn't threaten me"

"Had to do it" he shrugged, still smiling, still joyous. It makes her heart melt.

"Whatever" she looked away when he met her eyes, blush slithering on her cheeks. "Im going only because of you, you hear?"

It was his turn to blush, dimple deep on his cheek and eyes glimmering. "Yes ma'am" he looked down, suddenly shy. "And I'm only goin cause of ya' either"

She gave him a sideways glance, suspicious. "You sure its not for the beer?"

"Nah, just for ya" she suddenly had a sick sick disgusting urge to giggle. "Ya make everythin' better, not the booze"

God she's so inlove with him she would carved a pumpkin right now if he ask.

___________

She went as ghostface.

Tight black shirt and a sweatpants with fake blood (ketchup) splattered on her white shoes and arms. Its a simple costume that required a little amount of effort and money. And she had to admit, she look hot as fuck, she just wished the security guard up front had let her kept the kitchen knife but no matter how many pleading and yelling of 'its not real!' The man wouldn't budge.

She stood next to Rebecca whose dress could send any man with eyes falling on the floor. She went as maleficent, with horns, high cheek bones and everything that made her almost fall inlove with her.

"Hows the drink?" She had asked, smiling at her so pleasantly ever since she had got there.

"Terrible"

"Oh?" She blinked, confused. Blood red lips almost scowling. "Was it too strong?"

"Not strong enough" she replied with a teasing smile that made her boss rolled her eyes.

"Of course you would say that, the one person here that wants to go home"

"Thats not true" she laughed, putting her glass down before leaning on the wall. Watching as the other dance on the floor, some giggling and some stumbling.

"Im actually enjoying myself"

"I doubt it" Rebecca raised her perfectly drawn brow before a slow teasing grin slithered its way on her red lips. "Ted isn't here yet"

She ignored the heat on her ears

"Are you implying i can only enjoy this party if Ted is here? That he's the sunlight on my dark days? Because if so then you're are one hundred percent corre- holy fucking shit, get out of the way" she quickly, as fast can blink, lightly push Rebecca off the view of the entrance door.

"Goodness!"

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph is that Ted fucking Lasso dressed up as a cowboy?" Keeley -dressed as katniss everdeen - strolled in like a ghost in the night, suddenly popping up, a cola on her hand.

"I think I'm about to faint" y/n confessed with a heavy breath while clutching her heart. Rebecca giggled next to her, gently holding her arm.

"Look at him walking around like he doesn't have half of the woman's eyes on him, he's killing me, he's fucking killing me"

"Look at that ass, oh that is criminal" keeley stated with a whistled, watching as Ted walked around, greeting people with a laugh and a smile.

"Is that a whip?" Y/n squinted her eyes and oh fuck it is, it is a whip, right on the holster on his hips - she swallowed thickly, the familiar heat of desperation drawing a line on her stomach.

"I have to say, im impres-"

"Im going to ride him"

Keeley choked on her drink

"excuse you?" Rebecca's head whipped around to look at y/n's face, eyes blown wide.

"Forget about the horse, im going to ride Ted Lasso tonight"

"Y-youre going to hook up with him?" Keleey asked her carefully a grin on her lips. "Tonight? Like actually tonight?"

"If he let's me" she answered though her eyes still hangs heavy on Ted Lasso who is currently standing across the room with Beard beside him dressed as Alan from the hangover.

"So you're going to confessed?" Rebecca then asked "Because this is your opportunity to tell him what you really feel, this is your time"

Ted's eyes suddenly met hers and suddenly - everything stops.

The chatter, the song, even the loud flash of cameras and the yells of the drunk. As if one look from him can make the whole world stop turning, made the time crumbles and lay dust beneath his foot.

She could hear her breathing, slow and full and deep. As if he's taking it away, feeding from her own soul. For a minute she would let him, let him take it all, place her heart on his palm and make him promise to keep it close, pour her soul onto his mouth and kiss it to seal its lock, reduce herself into nothing but atoms and dust and particles on the air and be kept in a jar, forever still, forever there, forever on him.

Ted grinned so beautifully she could cry, he gave her a wave, almost shy, almost adoring before he took his first step towards her. Every foot the same rhythm as her heart, for a second she believed in soul mate and for a second she had hoped it was him.

"Hes coming this way!" Keeley squealed lowly, turning away from him and walked towards the bar. "Im going to pretend I dont know you so you can jump on him, okay?"

"Im going to, uh, going over there! Right there to Higgins" she scrambled to lift off her gown and run lightly towards her assistance who's currently dressed as a Frankenstein.

Ted walked towards her, apologizing to the people he had bumped on his way. She doesnt think she can love anyone like this dork..

He wore a flannel, blue and black and rolled over his thick forearms. It was tucked inside his jeans, scandalously tight on his muscled thighs. There's a leather belt slithered between it, thick with a silver buckled on its front. A whip and a fake gun hang on each side.

There's a red bandana hanging on his neck and brown cowboy hat place upon his head.

Ted lasso looks sinful underneath the beating lights and shadows, like a proper seduction on a night, dress in pure temptation with a smile that held thousand of promise.

"Howdy, ma'am" he tipped his hat on her, winking. "Never have i thought I would see a lady as fine as you are"

She pray to get she wouldn't get a nosebleed. "Why thank you, cowboy" she push her mask down, hiding the grin and the blush on her cheek.

"I must say, you look good enough to eat-" she approached him a little, standing close. "-ya wouldn't mind a little bite would ya', sweetheart?"

Ted swallowed "n-not at all"

"What got you stuttering now, little lamb?" She went up to his face, titling her head a little, as if taunting him. "Youre not scared are you?"

Thank fuck for the mask, if it wasn't for it she would be on the floor right now, confidence and determination gone and replaced by the undying need to have him and never let go.

"you're really into your character arent ya?" Ted grinned at you.

"Was i?" She peered up to him with smirk, removing the mask off her face. "What are you going to do about it, cowboy? Lasso me away?"

Ted's dimple become apparent "Might have to if ya keep this up" he titled his head "Whisk you away out'a 'ere and show you what happens to a pretty little naughty thing like ya'"

Her breath hitched, body hot and guts swirlin. Her fingers itched to yank his collar and kiss him stupid.

"Yeah?" She uttered breathlessly

Ted nod his head, gaze stuck on her mouth. "Mhm, but ya would like that wouldn't ya? Have ya with me, bound and tied. Bet you would love it, a minx like ya'"

"Oh I would love it alright" she looked up to him with half lided eyes, almost drank on the words spouting of his mouth.

"Specially so because its you"

Ted had blushed then, red and harsh even under the thousand beating lights. He chuckled, the magic that reside between them now gone, replaced by the silence that you could only get when everything is light and adoring and filled with colors of love and feelings too big for your own heart.

"I uh," he looked down "im glad ya' came, thought ya wouldn't"

She chuckled and took a step back, away from his space.

"I told you I would didn't I?"

"Yeah I know but I thought you're just foolin' me, get me to shut up"

"Ted i would literally pay you my entire savings just to NEVER shut up" she smiled when he shyly looked away. "You know how much I enjoy you talk, even about things I do not understand like a 100 years old pop culture reference from an ancient movie"

"Im not that old" he grumbled rather adorably and it took everything on her not to pinch his cheeks.

"Yeah? Bet your hips would pop if I took you to the dance floor right now"

He stared at her for a couple of seconds before a grin erupted on his lips. "Is this your way of asking me to dance?"

She sighed "depends, are you going to say yes?"

"You gosh darn right I will!" He had replied with a big smile before interrupting it with a pointed finger " 'n not cause of your allegations about my perfectly fine hips, its cause I want to dance with ya'"

"I know that ted" she laughed, grabbing his hand suddenly, warm and big and rough. She likes it. "Now show me what you got, cowboy. You're too fine not to show off on the dance floor"

_________

They stumbled around the flat, kissing heatedly - all teeth and tounge and the pain of desperation to consume.

"Fuck, you're killing me" she grumbled, eyes half lided and lips red and wet. Her fingers worked in frenzy to take off every clothing he wore, buttons flying and his hat somewhere on the floor.

"Did I mention how good you look tonight?" She nose his neck, licking a stripe that had him shivering. "Did I, darling?"

"N-no, oh god" he moaned when her palm squeezed the outline of his cock on his tight jeans.

She smirked and bit him lightly on the skin between his shoulder.

"Well you are, my love." She whispered, not even bothering to give a flying fuck on the nickname she had accidently slip out. "Absolutely handsome, couldn't keep my fucking eyes off you you know that?"

Ted looked half drunk across you, hair a mess and neck covered with bites. "I-i didnt know ya find, ngh- I didnt know ya find me t-that attractive, sweetheart"

"All the flirting wasn't enough then?" She questioned, pushing him to fall on the couch and he did, easily, with a grunt and a look of anticipation and dark lust.

"Looks like you're more of a visual learner eh?" She sat on his lap, grinding her heated core on his hard cock - wet with slick and thick between her thighs. "What do you say, cowboy? Gonna let me ride you till sunrise?"

Ted moaned loudly, hands gripping her waist and nails digging on the flesh. "Y-yes please"

She smiled, hands slithering on his hair before pulling it to bare his throat to her like a submissive prey would. "Dont worry, darling. I'll take good care of you"

In one move his cock was inside her, thick and splitting her open. A gush of slick drip down her thighs and Ted moaned loudly, not a care in the world. "God.." he groaned, throwing his head back. "Feels good, fuck, ya feel so fuckin' good baby doll"

The nickname send shiver down her spine, a tingling of heat and cold.

"Squeezin' my damn cock so fuckin' tight" he licked his lips before grinning up to her, eyes lazy, dark and blown wide. "Ya sure this cunt ain't made f'me, dollface? You takin' my cock like champ"

She moaned on his filthy words, tounge frozen and chest tight. She could feel him inside her, deep on her guts, moving and rearranging anything it can reach.

"Yeah-fuck, look at ya'" he strike a palm on her ass, loud. "Beautiful thing sat on my cock, s'yours yeah?" He took her mouth, gifting her a wet kiss, pulling her bottom lip. "How ya feelin', bunny? Feels good?"

"Y-yes, feels-fuck, feel so full" she arched her back as Ted's hand went to her waist, big palm squeezing it thigh with his thumb caressing the skin he can reach.

"Cock's too big, ain't it?" He questioned, a lazy smirk on his lips. "Fitting into your tiny cunt just right though yeah? Look at it" his other hand went to her soaking pussy, caressing her folds before sucking it clean with a hummed. "Swallowing me whole easily, what a good fuckin' girl ya are. Makes me wonder if ya can take my cock on the back, fill ya up even more what'd ya say?"

He pulled her close and she gasped as his dick pierced her impossibly more deeper. "Talk to me, darlin'" he nose her neck, breathing warmth on her throat. "Gonna let your man tear ya' up from behind? Shoot my cum inside ya till you're a drippy mess hm?"

Goodness his fucking mouth..' she had thought, shivering.

"Bet ya would huh?" He bit a skin on her neck before sucking it harshly, drawing a bruise and a shiver on her spine. She moaned when his hands went to her ribs, big they were and rough, a hands of a man who could toss her around. "Bet ya would even beg for it, ya naughty thing"

His fingers went to her shoulder, brushing it gently with heavy breath and heated eyes. Tracing the collar bone and the line between her breast before his fingers reach her perked up nipple - making her shudder. "Beautiful" he whispered lowly, as if it was a secret meant only for himself. His hand envelop her whole breast, playing with it as his cock speared her in a pace that had her toes curling. She could feel every vein inside her, every thrust had her cunt quivering and gushing, painting his pelvis with her own slick.

His mouth went to her nipple, hot and smooth and soaking. His tounge swirled and his lashes flutter as he closed his eyes, the hand on her ribs pulled her much closer than before and Ted sucked at her nipple like a man starve, groaning.

She bounce on his cock, moaning wantonly from the fullness between her thighs, she swore she could feel his dick on her throat, so deep and so thick it was splitting her open, making a room inside her just for his cock and his alone.

"Thats it" he remove his mouth off her nipple with a pop before throwing his head back. "Thats it, dollface. Take my cock like ya own it" he clenched his jaw, the litte hair dangling on his forehead moving at every movement she makes, long eyelashes closed and mouth slightly agape.

She moaned when his hips started moving, meeting her thrust halfway through, it hit the hidden spot inside her that made her want to scream and sob and stop at the same time. "T-ted, Ted, Ted!" She repeated his name like a mantra, like a broken prayer of a desperate man, filled with adoration and lust and yearning for something she doesnt even know what.

He groaned loudly, almost like a growl of a feral man before he sat up more straighter, grabbing her closely, impossibly close, pushing her head on his neck and hugging her tight on his own sweaty body that it render immovable and writhing in pleasure. "Gonna fuck your pretty little pussy just like this yeah?" He stated in her ear before his hips started moving much faster, more harder, hitting her spot over and over again that every thrust had her gushing and moaning.

"Yeah, fuck yeah, t-take it, take it, take it" he repeated in her ear, thick thick cock spearing her mercilessly until she was sobbing and drawing her nails on his shoulder.

"S'too m-much!" She complained and yet she widen her thighs further more, savoring the feeling of his wet cock. "T-teddyy" she whined, pushing her face into his neck as tears fell from her eyes.

"What got ya cryin' now, sweetheart?" He chuckled breathlessly, hips still moving, dick still splitting her open. His hand went to her nape, grabbing it with his whole palm before pulling it to glimpse at her fucked out face. "Even with tears drippin' on your cheeks you're fuckin' beautiful" he pecked her lips sweetly before drawing back, a grin on his lips. "'S my cock too much for ya' dolly? Daddy hurtin' your cunt hm? Do-dont worry.." his hand tighten. "Gonna give ya my cum to make it all better"

That was the last straw of it all, snapping everything in place, cogs turning and limbs rigid.

She came on his cock with a cry and a thousand tears on her cheeks, back arching and quivering that Ted had to hold him more tighter. She could feel her cum dripping down his cock, soaking him wet. Ted moaned in return, loving the filth of it all, basking on it even - he watched her face relax and brows furrowed, letting herself be used even when her cunt throbs.

"T-teddy" she whined lowly, biting her lip. Her hand went to his arm, gripping it tight. "C-cant, m'too, im too s-sensitive!"

"Just a lil' mo-more" he groaned, holding her waist now, lifting her up and bringing her down, completely using her like she was only a hole for him, a cum dump. "Ya can take it, d-darlin'. M'sure ya could yeah? Jus-just a little, be good f'me"

She squealed and she sob, soaping cunt loud at every thrust. He was breathing heavily then, sweating like a dog in heat as he split her. Thighs sticky and cunt still dripping.

"Fu-fuck, bunny" he groaned, grinding her on his throbbing cock. "M' close, f-fuck, so fuckin' close" he whined, head thumping on her chest, breath warming her breast. "G-gonna cum, can-can i, can I fill ya' up? Pleas-please please, oh god.." the sound he had made was between a sob and a moan, it made her guts coil, made her cheeks hot.

"Mhm hm" she nod her head quickly, pulling him close to him. "P-please cum inside me, t-ted pl-please" tears drip down her cheeks, cunt swollen and clit throbbing with need. Hes stretching her wide, touching every corner of her inside.

"Y-yeah, thank you dolly, fu-fuck thank you" he groaned and push his hips much faster, fucking her silly with his cock. "Gonna fill your pretty pussy up nice and good yeah?" He was breathing heavily, heaving chest and throbbing cock. She can feel it more on her guts, a dull bump on her tummy at every movement he makes."G-gonna have ya drippin' f'me, use ya' like a fuckin hole and dump my spunk into your pussy yeah? Fuck!" He gave a harsh thrust "Oh god, sweetheart oh fuck i love you"

Her eyes widen.

"Love ya' so fuckin' much" he growled, pulling her onto his lap before he lift his hips up and gave her a single harsh thrust. "Fucking take it, take it, take it" he repeated in her ear as his cum came flooding in, hot and so so many.

"Yeah, s-shit look'a that. 'S too much its dripping out'a ya'" he groaned, thrusting slower then, riding his high.

"Ya did such a good job" he sighed as he had stopped, pulling out of her with a low moan and a shudder.

He kissed her forehead with a lazy grin. "Lets get ya clean-"

"You said you love me" she interrupted him with a wide eyes and a blushing cheeks.

"What?"

"You told me you love me" she repeated, as if in trance. "You said you love me so much earlier, you repeated it twice, Ted"

Ted sat frozen underneath her before looking away, suddenly so so sad.

"I-yeah, okay, no point in-in denying i supposed" his brows furrowed and his eyes had turned into that softer gentler look that had her heart always aching. "I love ya..for, for a long time. Don't know how it started and I'm quiet upset im confessing to ya' like this but what do I do" he chuckled but the humour on it was gone. He met her eyes, earnest, adoring, the same gaze he had used to looked at her for as long as she can remember, a gaze she couldn't put a finger on back then but could finally see it as clearly as day now.

"I love you, im inlove with you, stu-stupidly so and I get it if ya don't feel the same, its okay and I can do whatever ya like me too after this, I can walk away or I can pretend to never know ya at-"

She kissed him.

She kissed him like he would loose him.

Like any second he would turn into ashes, flew in the air and never to be return again. Tasted him like It would be her last to see him for a very long time, as if he's off to war with death hanging like a noose on his head, ready to pull and ready to kill.

"I love you too, you fucking idiot" she grinned up to him, eyes wet and cheeks hurting.

"I love you, Ted. I fucking love you"

Ted smiled, big and bright despite the darkness of the night. He looks beautiful with happiness lingering on his eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, fuck yes"

Their lips met and yeah..yeah maybe Halloween wasn't too bad.

Ted smiled on her lips and it tasted sickeningly sweet as a melted sugar.

Yep, it definitely wasn't bad at all.

#ted lasso #jason sudeikis #ted lasso x reader #fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso smut #ted lasso one shot #ted lasso imagine #cowboy #holloween

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believesthings · 9 months

Text

Paper Thin // Ted Lasso x Reader

Summary: you’ve been secretly listening to your hot American neighbor masturbate through the walls. When you finally do go inside his place for the first time, some interesting revelations come to light.

Warnings: smut. smut. smut. Masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, light anal play, nipple play, body praise, vibrators, slight allusion to violence but nothing is specifically described or mentioned.

You have a filthy fucking habit.

Your vibrator has taken a permanent residence on the empty side of your bed to allow for easy access when you hear the inevitable shuffle on the other side of your bedroom wall.

The entire ordeal started when Ted Lasso came to town. You had heard about the news, of course. Football was a big deal around here and even if you weren’t big into the sport, it was pretty close knit community and a new face, especially an American one, was bound to make some waves.

What you hadn’t expected was for him to be so… hot.

You were at the Crown and Anchor when it first hit the airwaves. You were pulled from your own personal bubble when you heard Peter from the bar shout,

“Farmer fuckin’ Brown is gonna be the new gaffer?”

You pulled your head up to see Ted’s smiling face on the screen, explaining how he was taking over for AFC Richmond.

People weren’t thrilled about it to say the least. You kept quiet though. You had to admit, looking at him, you weren’t mad about it. He seemed exactly like your type. You figured that it didn’t really matter. Most likely, you would never run into the man.

That, as it turned out, was massively inaccurate.

The flat next to yours has been empty for a few months. You’d gotten used to the silence, so much so that when you heard footsteps and a voice, a male voice, on the other side of the wall, your first instinct was to call the police.

You were so startled that you stood there, phone in hand, hovering over your bed. When you heard the knock on your door, you tried not to panic. Making your way slowly to the door, sneaking a glance through the peek hole, you see a disheveled Ted Lasso at your doorstep. You open the door in a haze.

He is hotter in person, you decide. Up close you can see the stubble from where he hasn’t shaved. His sleeves pushed up exposing his forearms. A little tendril of hair over his forehead that you want to run your hands through. Big, bright eyes that you could probably get lost in. What was that Dolly Parton lyric?

Here you come again, looking better than a body has the right to.

That seemed to embody Richmond’s new football manager.

You both stared at each other momentarily. He broke the silence first.

“Hey there! Sorry to bother you so late, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Ted Lasso, your new neighbor.”

Oh shit. Shit. Shit.

The universe was either smiling down on you or paying you back for a nasty curse in your past life. At the moment, you weren’t sure which way the scales were tipping.

He’s there holding out his hand, seemingly about to drop it when you come to your senses.

“Y-yes. Hi. I saw you on the news. You’re the new coach?” You take his hand and he squeezes yours lightly. You’re only a little embarrassed to admit that it makes you wonder what it feel like for his hands to squeeze other parts of your body.

“That’s right. Well, listen I won’t keep you long, I know it’s late. I just wanted to stop by and say hi. I’ll try not to bother ya too much. Now I won’t lie to you - you’ll probably hear the occasional billy ocean song in the morning or maybe some late night viewings of you’ve got mail, but feel free to just bang on the wall or some thin’ if I ever get too loud for ya.”

You nod, practically unable to form words.

“Oh shoot! I didn’t catch your name.” He pauses waiting for you to give it, which you do.

“Nice to meet ya. Goodnight neighbor!” He flashes you a smile that practically makes you melt before he’s off to his own door.

You were definitely screwed.

The first time you heard him touching himself, you almost didn’t realize what was happening. There was some vague shuffling on the other side of the wall and you were wrapped up in your own world to really pay that much attention. The moans started, light and soft, you couldn’t really be sure what you were hearing but as he got more and more into it, it became clear.

Oh fuck.

You were squirming listening to the sounds he was making. It didn’t sound like there were any other noises so you have to assume he was alone.

You’re practically holding your breath, as if just a simple exhale would give you away and he would stop. One deep grunt in particular, followed by a light bang of his headboard against the wall as he jutted his cock up into the curve of his palm, had you damn near convulsing.

That was the first night you broke out the vibrator. It hasn’t been put back in your drawer since.

You hear the familiar knock of Ted’s hand on your door and you scurry to answer.

“Hey! I baked some goodies for my favorite neighbor.”

Jesus Christ, he bakes too?

“Favorite neighbor, huh? What about Mrs. Shipley?”

He waves you off, “oh I think I might’ve burned my bridge with her a while ago. Bit too loud for her taste.”

“Might not hurt to bake her some treats, get back on her good side. You could get yourself a discount from Shipley’s Steakhouse.”

He looks directly at you when you replies, “Oh now, I love a good steak, don’t get me wrong but what I really value is loyalty and I’m not one to quit, so when I find a favorite… trust me, I stick with it.”

Either you’re hallucinating or his eyes seem to move up and down your body at the end of his speech. Was he still talking about baking? Surely, you’re reading too much into this. He couldn’t be into you, could he?

You can hear him again. You reach for your vibrator beginning to travel down between your legs at the sounds of his moans.

This is also the only time you’ve heard him curse.

“O-oh fuck.”

You close your eyes, trying to picture what he must look like on the other side of the wall.

You have no idea what his typical nightly attire is but for the purposes of your fantasies, you imagine he’s shirtless, legs stretched out, lazily stroking his cock. His eyes are also closed, just like your own, soaking in his own pleasure. Familiarizing himself with every ridge and curve. He doesn’t go too fast at first, wants to feel it steadily build. He keeps a thumb on the tip, rubbing smooth, slow circles. A bit of pre-cum is probably already leaking out, as he uses it to coat the head of his cock. You can hear his moans getting increasingly louder, loosening his inhibitions. He’s probably giving himself smooth, even strokes, thrusting his cock into his own hand.

You follow suit at the idea, grinding your hips in a way that has you fucking yourself against your vibrator.

You can hear his moaning getting more erratic on the other side of the wall and you’re sure he’s close. Thank god. Because you are too.

You hear another string of curses, followed by a final moan that you’re sure is his release and you follow momentarily behind him, trying to remain quiet. If you can hear him through the walls, it stands to reason that he would be able to hear you too.

You both come down from your high together, separated by a nearly paper thin wall.

You fall into a comfortable rhythm with Ted. He brings you baked goods, you chat and flirt at the doorway, you sneak to his door and write little thank you notes. Then at night, you shamelessly fuck yourself while listening to him cum.

You had ended up at Ted’s doorstep after a particularly nasty date. You were rain soaked, shoes covered in mud and shivering.

When he opened the door and you saw him standing there, looking so cozy in his sweater, it almost made you wanna cry.

He didn’t ask questions, he stepped aside for you to come in.

“Gonna run you a bath, alright?”

You nod. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to warm yourself up.

“Come on, darlin’.”

He’s filled up the tub for you, leaving you alone to get undressed and get settled in.

“Ted?”

He peaks his head around to see you in the bath. “Yeah?”

“Would it be weird for me to ask you to stay in here with me? I don’t really wanna be alone right now.”

He seems momentarily fazed but he recovers quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

He doesn’t make an effort to get in the bath with you, he sits in front of tub, his back against it.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your presence but can I ask what you’re doing here? Is everything alright?”

You don’t answer at first. Weighing it out in your head. He doesn’t rush you, not that you would expect him too.

“Well, I downloaded Bantr..”

You don’t notice it, but Ted stiffens against the tub. Jealously, he guesses. Which is ridiculous. He knows he has no right be. He would never want to be one of those guys that tries to dictate who you could or couldn’t spend time with but he hates you the idea of you with someone else all the same.

“I didn’t really want to do it, to be honest. I mostly did it to support Keeley. Anyway, there was a guy I was talking to on there and we finally went out on a date tonight. It was.. bad.” You wonder at the way your voice cracks at the last word.

“He was… he..” you trail off.

Ted seems to become even more tense. In a tone you’ve never heard from him before, he asks, “Did he hurt you?”

When you don’t respond, he takes long, deep breaths. You’re not giving him much to go off of and his anxiety is filling in the gaps with some pretty nasty scenarios. “Darlin’, I would never want to force you to talk about anything you don’t want to but I need a yes or no answer. I need to know what we’re dealing with here.”

You instantly note the fact that he said what we’re dealing with instead of what you’re dealing with.

“It was awful, Ted. The entire night was just one backhanded compliment after another. He constantly interrupted everything I had to say. He kept making all these little snide remarks. And the poor waitress, he was such a prick to her. At one point, he actually said that the date and I were a waste of time and then he left me with the check and no ride home. So, I walked here.”

“You could’ve called me, ya know. You didn’t need to walk, especially in the rain. I would’ve come and got you.”

“What if you were busy?”

“Doesn’t matter. Nothing could keep me from you.”

You raise your hand up to run your fingers through his hair. He leans back into your touch. “Ted, could you join me, please?”

He turns to fully look at you. “You sure you’re comfortable with that?”

You nod but you had a feeling he would want verbal confirmation. “Yes.” You follow up by asking, “Are you? Comfortable with that?”

“Yeah, course.”

You watch him undress and you scoot forward, drawing your legs up to allow him to slide behind you. He picks you up and slides you onto his lap. You try not to focus on the feeling of his growing erection prodding against your back, instead leaning back and relaxing against his chest. You watch the water pool around knees and see his arms wrap around your front, making his way up your body.

You hear his words rumble in his chest as you press against him. “There we go. You feeling okay?”

You nod, “Yeah. Thank you, Ted.”

You chuckles lowly in you ear. “You don’t need to thank me. This is exactly where you should be.”

He rubs small circles into your hips and asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“I think I would lose my mind if you didn’t.”

He tilts your head up and Leans down to kiss you. You can feel his hand, moving further up your body to begin idly toying with your nipple. You let out an involuntary whimper into his mouth and you can feel him smirking against your lips. The bastard. He definitely knows what he’s doing. When he break apart, he brings his hand up to run a finger across your bottom lip. You open your mouth and suck his finger into your mouth. Ted lets out a sudden guttural groan that tells you that you made a good call.

You flutter your tongue up and down his finger, tightening your lips and sucking. He answers with another growl before bringing his other hand down to continue playing your nipples, rubbing circles, feeling them harden beneath his touch, and then when you least expect it, pinching at them too.

You break away to let out a moan of your own. "You feel so good." You say to him, feeling him continue to toy with your body.

He dips his head down, placing kisses to your neck. "I'm sorry you had a bad date, sweetheart. But that boy clearly didn't know what he had right there in front of him. It probably worked out for the best, you deserve better than that. He wouldn't have been able to make you moan like this anyway."

You peer up at him, "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"

He leans down to your ear, "Because I know what gets you going sweetheart. I don't think that vibrator is as quiet as you think it is."

Oh Shit.

You whip your head around at him. "You knew this whole time?"

He nods at you as you shrink you body, trying to hide your face in embarrassment.

"Oh, now there's no need to start getting shy on me now, Darlin'. Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep my cool around you sometimes? You remember that time you came by and brought my phone to my office because I went off and left it at home?"

You nod, trying to focus on his words while you can feel his hands continuing their exploration of you.

"Some of the guys in the locker room were talking about you, how attractive you were and it drove me crazy. I wanted to tell them that none of them had a chance because I knew at the end of the day, you were going home and sharing all pleasure with me. Do you know how wild it made me to know that you were on the other side of the wall, stroking your silky little pussy while listening to me? I had never even laid a hand on you but hearing you break out that vibrator, it was enough to make me want to claim you as mine."

You laugh lightly at this. "I've always been yours, Ted. Since that first night you knocked on my door."

He runs his hands along your inner thighs, soothing you into relaxation. When his fingers began to play lightly over your pussy, he hard you sigh in relief. He keeps kissing down your neck, he nips lightly at your shoulder. He works two of his fingers around your opening, dipping inside to find you wet and ready.

"You wanna know what I thought about all those times I was touching myself? I bet you already know. I was thinking about my pretty neighbor."

You had just enough coherence left in you to crack a joke. "Mrs. Shipley? I'm sure she would be flattered."

He doesn't acknowledge your quip, instead bringing you for another kiss, continuing to finger you under the water of the bath. "There is nothing better than the feeling of you getting wet for me."

He brings his thumb up to rub circles on your clit and you're arching your back against him.

"You're so responsive, aren't you sweetheart? Can you do me a favor? Can you get on your knees for me?"

You do as he asks, feeling his hands stoke along your hips, positioning you against the opposite end of the tub. He kisses down your arched spine, groaning at the sight of you - the swell of your ass rising from the water, bubbles from the soap pooling around you. He takes his hands, rubbing them smoothly over your skin, drinking you in. He leans over you, "I need to be inside you, sweetheart. Would that be okay with you?"

You nodded, your head relaxing against your arms.

You feel him begin to push into you. "Don't worry, honey. I'm not gonna give you a straight plunge to the top of ya. Gotta let you adjust, don't we?"

You gasp and stiffen at the feel of him, new and incredibly full, tapping you part way into you.

He goes back to toying with your body, giving you light kisses, waiting for you to relax against him. He can feel you arch your ass back into his hips. He can hear you gasp and let out a moan as you relax around him. "I was right, you are responsive. That's it baby, open up for me. I can feel you practically fluttering around my cock, honey."

He gives one final push, now fully inside you. He never lets his hands take a break. His fingers are either circling your clit or toying towards your ass. You can feel him all over you.

"You close already? You're taking me so well."

"Yes" you moan out - head rolling against your forearms trying to keep balance.

"Can you help me come baby?" Ted was speeding up a bit now, his thrusts making you brace against the side of the tub.

"Y-Yes."

He brings his thumb against your ass, slowly sliding it into you, you gasp out at the sensation, tensing up at the new feeling.

"I got ya, honey. Just relax. Just wanna make you feel good, nice and full, okay?"

He begins moving his thumb to the same rhythm as his cock, enjoying your moans, rubbing the pad of his thumb against you, he says, "I can feel my cock in you. You feel... so g-good." He groans out. "So tight." He growls more to himself than to you. "You ready to cum for me?"

You were beginning to shake, feeling helpless against the tidal wave of pleasure. The fullness that made you feel split open, the tingling and sparking that indicated that you were so, so close. "Y-Yes."

He hand reaches to tug your clit in between his fingers, "Cum for me, Darling." Your head jerks back, knocking against his collarbone as you shudder blissfully. After a final push of his cock and fingers, he growls and joins you, mouth biting down on your shoulder, absorbing his moans.

Gently sliding out of you, He wraps his arms around your shaking body, wrapping you against him, gently rocking you back and forth while your breathing returned to normal. "You were so good for me." He gives you one final kiss and lifts you from the tub, drying you off with a towel and rubbing coconut oil on the sore parts of your body.

"Thank you, Ted."

"How many times do I need to tell ya, Darling? You don't need to thank me."

He hovers above you for a moment before continuing, "Although I guess there is something you could do for me if you wanted."

"Course, Teddy. You can have anything."

"You can invite me over to your place one of these nights and let me use that pretty little vibrator on you myself."

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso smut #ted lasso reader insert #smut #ted lasso fanfiction

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discokicks · 8 months

Text

BAD IDEAS (ON THE SAME PAGE) — JAMIE TARTT

a fic inspired by bad idea right by olivia rodrigo!

masterlist! song inspo! AO3!

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)

summary: football star jamie tartt is an asshole. he’s the one ex of yours that your friends always hated, one that you now all joke about, and one you haven’t spoken to in four years. however, after a chance encounter, the two of you reconnect, and he leaves you with his new number and a hundred questions about his reformed personality. but seeing him tonight would be a bad idea, right?

word count & rating: 11k (wowza), M! (18+! minors get away or i’ll narc on you to your guardians)

warnings: SMUUUUUUT, porn with plot, lots of suggestive language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sprinkling of a handjob, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kids), angst, mentions of alcohol, probable secondhand embarrassment, exes reuniting (it needs a warning sometimes), jamie tartt was an asshole and is now just a prick (in the best way possible), reader is a physio, major fluff, and swearing. also reader is american (bc the author is too. sorry </3)

authors note: well. i wrote it. olivia wrote this song for teenage girls in their twenties (me) only and i immediately thought of this fic the second i heard it. i'm calling this an exercise in smut writing before i embark on my aces (my roy kent series for my new friends) eventual-smut-adventure, so this evolved into something i wasn’t expecting but i had so much fucking fun writing it. god, i love jamie tartt. also! this is my first smut fic at this type of level, so go easy on me. hope you all enjoy. love you all tons! -mags

There are two universal truths in life.

The first is that the coffee shop you frequent on your way to work will and will always have the best cold brew you’ve ever tasted. The second is that Jamie Tartt will and will always be a massive fucking prick, and you’ll never see him again for as long as you live.

These are two things you live by, and while they may seem rather mundane or petty in the grand scheme of things, they are the only truths you can count on these days. Especially when everything else is so up in the air.

However, the universe doesn’t seem to believe in these things as blindly as you do, and this becomes evident the moment that you step into the shop on a gloomy Wednesday morning. Because these two truths (well, they’re fucking bald-faced lies now aren’t they, huh?) are broken within approximately two minutes of each other with seven words.

It began when you greeted Natalia, the barista who was here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday before your shift at the clinic with a wide smile. As soon as she saw your face, her expression turned apologetic, albeit a bit dazed.

“You’re gonna hate me,” she says, putting her hands on either side of the register. Your brows shot up at her words. “We just ran out of cold brew.”

Your face falls. “You’re kidding.”

“We were low on it this morning,” she starts to explain, “our stupid night-shifters didn’t prep enough last night. And it’s been selling like crazy today.”

“Seriously?” you nearly whine. “I might cry.”

“I’m sorry, Doc,” she apologizes, but she doesn’t sound too apologetic. Natalia’s eyes keep shifting to your left, the dazed look in her eye never faltering. Then, she says the fated seven words. “But he took the last of it.”

You turn your head in the direction she’s been looking, and your blood runs completely cold. You think you could drop dead and go to hell at this very moment, and it’d be a better existence than what awaits you in the next five minutes. And while this all may sound dramatic, you don’t care.

You don’t care because Jamie fucking Tartt is standing across from you, newly long hair peeking out from beneath his hood. He’s engrossed in whatever’s on his phone, fingers flying back and forth like he’s texting.

You think you could run. You’re pretty sure you could successfully make a break for it and leave Natalia high and dry without him seeing you. It’d be an easy exit, and you’d never have to see him again.

But then, as if he can feel your eyes on him, he looks up. And the second he meets your gaze, his face falls in what you can imagine was a similar fashion to yours.

Fuck.

Luckily, Natalia is none the wiser. She barely notices your expression, and with Jamie by the pick-up area, she can’t see the way he’s looking at you. So, instead of questioning you, she straight-up giggles.

“I know,” she practically squeals. “I was totally going to save you the last of it, but he asked for it. And I mean, c’mon. It’s Jamie Tartt. I couldn’t possibly say no to him.”

You tragically know that feeling all too well. Knowing you probably would have had a snappier, more cutting response to that if you weren’t in the most debilitating phase of shock, you settle for a quiet, “It’s okay.” You nod at her, brushing it off in an attempt to be casual. “I can settle for an espresso today.”

Natalia nods, tapping it into her register. “Same size as usual?”

“Yeah,” you say, not completely sure what you’re agreeing to. You glance over again at Jamie and find that he’s still standing there, staring at you, and you immediately blink away. “That’s fine.”

The rest of the transaction feels as though it takes a millennium and three seconds all at once. You’re still caught off guard by the time Natalia gives you your receipt with a dazed look in your eye that now matches hers.

However, yours isn’t because you just saw your favorite Richmond player or your favorite reality show villain. It’s because you’ve just seen your ex-boyfriend and you’re about to walk over and stand next to him for a prolonged period of time.

Nothing about this scenario feels real. You hadn’t seen him in four years. Not since things ended as ugly as they had, with him leaving you sobbing outside of a club at three in the morning, letting you know that things were over between you two. And he hadn’t even given you a reason. It was just that he wasn’t ‘feeling’ it anymore.

You saw in a tabloid about three months later that he was now seeing Keeley Jones (yeah, having to compete with that did not sit well with you at all) and had drawn your assumptions from there. Whether or not he’d been seeing her behind your back or had broken up with you to be with her, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. You were in your anger stage of the break-up and only knew one thing.

Jamie Tartt was a massive fucking prick, and you’d sooner walk on a bed of nails before you saw him again.

But now here he was. And there were no nails to be found.

You avoid eye contact as you pass him to wait for your coffee. There’s a piece of you that wants to say hi and play it cool, just to put on a show for him about how unaffected you were by everything that had happened. The other piece of you hopes that not a word is said for your entire time here.

Unfortunately, neither of those happen.

Jamie slides over to be near you, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. His hands are stuffed in his sweatshirt pocket, and you wait for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn’t.

Instead, you can feel the ‘play it cool’ part of you rise up to the surface. You could do this. You could feign indifference. Fuck him, you could be cool.

You glance over at him and see that he’s pressing his lips together, eyes shifting around the coffee shop. It’s crazy how familiar you still are with his tells to know he’s desperately looking for a way to say something.

You say it for him. “Hi,” you say simply. Cool and unaffected.

It’s as if the one word alone makes him flinch. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Hi—” He clears his throat after his greeting comes out cracked, and he stuffs his hands further in his pockets. “Hey.”

The awkwardness of this moment is killing you, and it’s taking everything in you to pretend like it's not. As you search for something else to say, you land on, “You took my cold brew.”

You can see his brows shoot up out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, fuck, did I?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah,” you tell him. “I come in here every morning. Friends with the barista. Said she was going to save me the last of it, but…” You trail off and finally look at him. “She couldn’t say no to Jamie Tartt, apparently.”

You want to jump up and down about how well you’re doing right now. Maybe you are over him. Maybe you’ve finally moved past this shit, and seeing him once more is all you needed to solidify that. Maybe—

The second he chuckles softly with an apologetic smile, your confidence in those things shoots down. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Since when do you drink cold brew, anyway?” you ask, frustrated with the fact that he’s fucking laughing in front of you. “You were always a like, caramel macchiato or frappuccino asshole.”

The names make him laugh harder, shaking his head. “Don’t like those anymore,” he responds. “Sugar hurts me teeth. Tryin’ somethin’ new.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “My fucking coffee.”

That chuckle continues with a shrug. “I’m sorry.” he says again. Then he pauses. “But it’s not like your name was on it, or anythin’.”

Your face draws blank, and immediately, Jamie can tell he’s made a misstep. And it’s not that you’re angry about the joke, it’s just the… everything. Him. The situation. Everything you can remember that you wonder if he bothers to remember too.

Before you can walk away, you feel his hand on your arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats for a third time, turning you so that you’ll look at him. Your pissed-off expression meets his easy smile and it only fuels your anger more. “I was jokin’. I’m sorry I took your coffee. We can get ‘em to put your name on it if you want.”

“Whatever,” you mutter. It’s not the most mature thing you could have said, but frankly, you don’t care. You just want to get your consolation espresso and get the hell out of here. “What are you even doing over here anyway?”

You’re not sure why you ask it. You don’t know why you keep the conversation going. Jamie looks just as surprised as you are. “I moved over here a couple weeks ago,” he answers. “Got sick of the old place.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you reply. By the way that Jamie snorts, you know he recalls just how much you hated his apartment when you knew him. It screamed twenty-two-year-old AFC-money shithead and you would tease him about it constantly. “Was the empty beer bottle sculpture finally giving you mold poisoning?”

He chuckles again. “That came down shortly after we stopped talking.”

“Oh, so I was just lucky enough to see it in its final days?”

“Oi,” he says, pointing at you. “That thing was fuckin’ impressive and you know it.”

“Impressive in a dorm,” you shoot back. “Not a seven million pound flat.”

He bows his head in a guilty manner. “You remember that, huh?”

“Hard not to,” you answer. “You never stopped talking about it.”

He at least has the decency to wince at that one. “I know,” he says earnestly. It makes you look at him. He shrugs once more. “I wanted to impress ya.”

He did impress you. But not with things like that. He’d impress you when you watched him play, he’d impress you when he made you laugh, and he’d impress you on the rare occasion that he’d just be himself in front of you. Not some asshole footballer. Just him.

But you don’t say that. You say, “That wasn’t the way.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Got that now.” He rocks back on his heels again, like he’s not sure if he should say whatever he wants to. “I was a proper fucking dick to you, wasn’t I?”

That almost makes you fall over. Did he just say that? Did he actually just admit that? Out loud, here, for everyone to hear? Accountability? Unprompted? From Jamie Tartt?

You want to glance around to see if Rod Sterling’s going to emerge from the bathroom to narrate the next couple of minutes of your life, but are too shocked to do so.

Your surprise must show in your eyes, because Jamie laughs to himself. “Yeah. Wild, innit?” He shakes his head. “On a bit of an apology tour this year. Trying to build back some bridges, or whatever.”

The nod you give him is slow, still reeling from all of this. “Right,” you say lamely. “Building bridges.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you and for a brief moment, you think he may just mean it. The sincerity in his eyes is clear. “I was terrible to you. And I’m sorry.”

Whatever you were expecting when you stepped into this coffee shop on this rainy Wednesday, it certainly wasn’t this. And you certainly weren’t expecting your first time reuniting with him to go this way— with him apologizing to you. The actual words ‘I’m sorry’ just left his mouth.

You genuinely don’t know who this is. Because it’s certainly not the Jamie you knew.

You saw flashes of this guy. Quiet moments during your short-lived relationship, typically when it was just the two of you. It’s the type of guy you always knew he could be if he tried. The type of guy you pushed him to be.

(Your friends always taunted you about having the ever-horrendous I-can-fix-him gene, and they never quite let go of it. But it’s not like it wasn’t true.)

Those flashes are why you held out for as long as you did. If it were anyone else, any other asshole who treated you the way he did, you would have dropped them in a second. But he wasn’t like that. Not always, at least.

It was terrible to think like that. You’d been in a low spot when you’d met him and had taken even lower when he left you. You’d recovered tenfold from that and now knew your worth.

But as he stands in front of you, apologizing, genuinely apologizing, and looking at you like that, you start to question it.

No! the logical part of your brain practically screams. Don’t you fucking dare.

You’re keen to listen to that for the time being. It hardens you. And all you can do is nod at him again. “Well, uh—” Your voice comes out hoarse. You cough awkwardly. “Yeah. You were. Terrible to me. And, uh… thank you. For saying that.”

So much for playing it cool. You want to slam your head up against the wall but hold yourself back from doing so.

He nods at you, opening his mouth to say something else before he’s interrupted by one of the baristas calling your name. His cold brew’s sitting on the counter too, something the two of you clearly missed in the middle of your conversation.

When you reach for your drink, he grabs his too. He’s still staring at you, biting the inside of his cheek like he wants to say something. When you go to move around him, he stops you.

“Look, I just—” You look up at him expectantly, and his shoulders deflate. “I know you probably want nothin' to do with me. But, I just… I want to talk to you.”

Your espresso is hot in your hands. “Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

That’s when he says your name. Your actual name. Not the nickname that everyone calls you, not a pet name that he used to use, he says your name. And it makes you stop in your tracks.

It’s so stupid. It’s so fucking dumb that your fucking name can send you back to the day you first met him and were completely taken with him. You hate it. And you hate the way it makes your walls come crumbling down.

“Please,” he begs. “Can we… Can I at least give you my number? It’s a new one, but I-I think I’ve still got yours. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. But just so you can… I don’t know? Think about it?”

You wouldn’t know if he still had your number. You blocked him ages ago. But you doubt it.

However, the more you think about it, the more you consider it. It’s the product of your resolve falling and well, everything else about him now. You think about it.

If you allowed him to give you his number, the ball would be in your court. You could do what you wanted with it. You could text him, you could tell him to fuck off, you could ignore him. It was up to you.

And you don’t know if that’s worse or better.

You decide on better. The second you sigh, Jamie knows he’s got you. A wide grin breaks out on his face as you hand him your phone. “I’ll think about it,” you mutter.

That’s good enough for him. He gives your phone back to you, new number inserted and new contact created. You’re glad he didn’t search for his old one. That one just says ASSHOLE in big capital letters with about a million gun emojis.

(That was done by your previous roommates in an effort to get you to move on from him. You thought it was a bit overdramatic. You were never one for emojis.)

He’s smiling when he holds his coffee out for you. You stare at him blankly, thinking he’s attempting to cheers you. Instead, he shakes his head and says, “Take it.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“Trade with me,” he clarifies and your expression turns to one of shock. “C’mon. You said it’s yours anyway, right?” When you don’t move he rolls his eyes. “Offer’s only good for another second. Me arm’s getting tired.”

At that, you sigh rather dramatically and grumble to yourself, trying not to act pleased by the gesture. You hand him your coffee and he gives you his. “Thanks,” you say. It was kind of him.

His grin returns and he nods at you. “Alright,” he says. After a slightly awkward beat, he steps back from you. “It was good to see you, Doc. Really.” You’re taken back by how genuine his voice sounds and say nothing in return. “I’ll talk to you later?”

He says it as a question, hopeful and well-meaning. “Yeah,” you tell him noncommittally. “Maybe.”

That too, is good enough for him. Because he sends you one more smile, then walks out of the coffee shop with your espresso in hand.

You’re still reeling from the interaction when you glance down at his your cold brew and see Natalia’s handwriting. She’s made it just as you like it, down to the milk and everything.

But below it is a small drawing. It’s a tiny shark fin with a #9 written inside, with little lettering circling around it.

Doo-doo-do-doo-do-do-doo.

You’re fucked.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” is the question that your best friend and former roommate Leah screams at you over drinks at a busy rooftop bar. So busy, in fact, that barely anyone looks over at the two of you.

You’d made the mistake of telling Leah that not only had you run into Jamie on Wednesday, but you’d let him give you his number.

And you’d texted him after hours of deliberation.

It was something innocent, something you’d thought way too much about, but innocent still. You weren’t sure if you were ready to actually talk to him, but there was something about texting him that wasn’t so scary. Your guard was clearly still up, evident by how dry you were in your messages, and you were keeping your distance. You never texted back too quickly, didn’t ask many questions, and often left him on read.

(Yeah, you’d turned your read receipts on for him. What about it?)

Your first text was a simple enough question, something that you’d been genuinely wondering about since you saw him. It was open enough for a conversation but not too forward. how’d you know my coffee order?

His response came in minutes later. Is that yours? Good taste. It was shortly followed up with, That espresso you drink was fucking disgusting though.

And that was that. That was how you started texting your ex again. That’s how you reconnected yourself with Jamie Tartt. That’s how you knew it was over for you.

And that’s how you’re pretty sure you’re about to kill your best friend.

Leah’s eyes were wild, somehow angry yet still disbelieving yet intrigued. But the intrigue was very minimal. Very minimal. It was hidden well by how pissed off she was at you.

She had every right to be pissed at you. She was the one who always warned you about him. She’d straight-up nursed you back to health when you broke up. She was the one who had to hear about him 24 hours a day until you were finally over him.

Leah had had a year of peace. And now you were killing her for good.

“You’re kidding, right?” she follows up with. Her grip on your arm is tight. “Please tell me your kidding.”

“Leah…” Your voice is weak.

It tells her everything she needs to know. “Oh, my God! Oh, my. God.” She puts her face in her hands. “You’re insane. You’re fucking losing it and we need to have you checked out right now.”

“I’m completely sentient and in control of my own body.”

“Are you sure?”

You sip at your cocktail. “I reset a knee today. I’m pretty sure.”

“I think you might need to reconsider,” she says. “Because you just told me that not only are you talking to Jamie Tartt again, but you were the one who instigated it!”

You deserve this verbal beatdown and you know it. But all you can do is shrug. “Technically, he gave me his number. He’s the one who instigated it.”

“I’m gonna throw my fucking drink in your face,” Leah threatens, gripping her glass in warning.

You roll your eyes at her. “Nothing’s gonna happen,” you say, even though you know you’re probably lying. Leah knows this too. “We’ve just been texting a little. It’s nothing serious.”

“Yeah, sure,” she deadpans. “Right. And even if I did believe you, what happens if it does? What happens if you get back in your weird, scary Jamie phase and he kills you again? I can’t deal with that.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you assure her, and this time it’s more confident. Because you know you won’t. Not this time. Not if anything happens.

You’d met Jamie when you were twenty-two. You were in your first year of your Masters program, slightly lost as in your move to London to finish your journey to become a physical therapist. Or a physio, as they called it here. Whatever. You couldn’t keep up with the names.

You were shadowing a physio at the clinic you now worked at, assisting him as a part of your internship at one of the football tournaments the clinic worked at. It was a ton of big-wig footballers, some names you recognized, others you didn’t. But it didn’t matter. They were precious fucking cargo and you were so paranoid about screwing up that you barely registered who they were when you worked on them.

That was, until a twenty-two-year-old Jamie Tartt sprained his ankle and plopped himself down on your doctor’s bench. He looked at you, you assisted him, and you were wrapped up in what you were doing that you didn’t even notice he was flirting with you.

You didn’t realize until he asked you out. And the rest was history, for better or for worse.

You were surprised he went for you. You knew who Jamie was, what type of girls he liked to be seen with. They were singers and models and actresses. They weren’t you.

(Perhaps that’s one of the reasons you liked him so much. Because he chose you. You didn’t like to think about that phase of your life.)

But after six months of seeing him, he ended things out of nowhere. Right when you’d settled on the idea that despite it all, you might be in love with him. And that was that.

You hadn’t seen him since. Not until this week.

“Not gonna happen my ass,” Leah scoffs, bringing you back into the conversation at hand.

A sigh of frustration leaves your lips. “Listen, I know it’s a bad idea;” you tell her. “I know it is. But, I don’t know. There was something different about him, Leah. He was just… like not someone I recognized.”

“Maybe because his hair is fucking long and stupid now.” She brings her glass to her lips. “His highlights look horrendous.”

“I actually like his hair like this,” you admit, earning yet another eye roll. “Listen. I’m not saying he’s changed. He probably hasn’t. But I…” You trail off with a shrug. “I don’t know. What if he has?”

Leah’s looking at you like you’re the dumbest person she’s ever met in her life. “Are you hearing yourself right now?” she asks incredulously. “Babe, he was a prick to you. Like, category-five, prestige-level twat. Like, worst boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“I know,” you repeat. “And I said nothing’s going to happen. But if it does, and it goes south, I give you full permission to say I-told-you-so for the rest of my life, alright?”

Leah bites the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. “Whatever,” she says. After a moment, she glances over at you. “I’m just looking out for you, y’know. I don’t want to see you hurt again. And I definitely don’t want him to be the reason for that hurt again.”

You grab her hand. “I know,” you say once more. “And I love you for it. But if I’m gonna be stupid, I’m fully aware of when I’m gonna do it. And it’s gonna be my own fault.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before Leah nods. “Okay,” she finally says. “Okay. Fine. Your fucking funeral.”

“I’ll let you give the eulogy and allow you to call me a dumb bitch for ten minutes straight.”

“Sold,” Leah says, pointing at you. That slight intrigue you previously saw in her eye returns. “Okay, now that I’ve yelled at you, you need to tell me everything.”

And so you do. You tell her how he took your coffee, how you nearly threw up the second you saw him, how you played it cool until you didn’t. How he apologized to you. Joked around with you. Apologized some more. And then he gave you his coffee.

You despise how excited you sound about it. Again, you’re trying to play it cool, but the people that know you the best can always see right through you. You’re excited about it. Excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to be excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to look down at your phone after you and Leah order another drink. Your heart stops when you see he’s texted you.

It’s a bad idea to open the message when Leah excuses herself to go to the bathroom. What are you up to tonight?

It’s past midnight on a Saturday and he’s texting you. It’s still preseason for him, so he might be drunk, he may not be. You’re three drinks deep and aren’t sure if you are.

It’s a bad idea to respond to him. getting drinks with a friend. You keep it dry.

It’s a bad idea to not look down at your phone until you finish the drinks you ordered. Because now, you’re definitely drunk and looking at it all with new eyes.

Would you want to hang out tonight? No pressure.

It’s a bad idea to consider it.

But it’s a worse idea to agree.

text me your new address. i can be there by 1:30.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re knocking on Jamie’s door, intertwining your fingers together when you realize you’re shaking.

The second you do it, you regret it. You’re no longer feeling the effects of your drinks. It wore off on the Uber ride over here. And everything seems like a terrible idea now.

God, what were you doing? He treated you like that and the second you see him again, you go running back? He was an asshole. He’d made you question everything about yourself, he’d made you cry, he’d made you experience every fucking emotion in the book and all it took is one text for you to be back on his doorstep?

Your roommate was right. This was a horrendous idea and you were an idiot.

However, none of that matters. It doesn’t matter because Jamie Tartt’s opening his door and he’s got a stupid fucking smile on his face. And the second you see it, you know there’s no turning back.

“Hey,” he says as he opens the door. “You alright, love?”

You clench your jaw at the name, at his smile, about how casual he’s being, about everything. “Hey,” you say, avoiding his eyes to look around his flat.

It’s a complete 180 from what he had when he first joined Richmond and what he had when you knew him. It’s a bit less mojo-dojo-casa-house-looking and something more mature. While you can still tell that a twenty-something guy definitely lives here, it’s decorated well, it’s put together, and it’s clean. No beer bottle sculptures in sight. He’s even got a fucking candle burning on his counter. Who the fuck is this and what did he do with the guy you knew?

Jamie follows you as you enter, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “You find the place okay?”

His question snaps you out of your flat-induced haze. “Yeah,” you reply. You clear your throat. “This is nice.”

That same, stupid smile returns, but it looks a bit nervous. “Yeah. I told you it was a bit different, huh?” he chuckles. He walks toward his island, rounding it as he speaks. “Needed a fresh start or whatever. The old one was gettin’... old.” He watches you as you nod, continuing to look around. “You still in the same place with the same people?”

“Uh, no. Different place. No people,” you answer. You’ve stayed on your side of the counter, actively keeping your distance. “Willa moved to New York last year and Leah moved with her boyfriend. We live in the same building, though, which is nice.”

The small talk is fucking killing you. You’re not even sure if he cared to remember your previous roommates' names, so this all could be pointless. You can’t believe you’re here. You can’t believe you’re actually standing here, talking to him about the past.

But as you finish speaking, he nods like he’s listening. Maybe he is listening. Maybe he does remember.

“I’ll have to see that sometime,” he ends up saying, and the implication of it makes your head spin. He wants to see you again. Or he just learned small talk common courtesy. Whatever it is, it’s driving you insane. You have so many questions for him, so many things to say, and as he wipes his hands on his pants again and nods over to his kitchen, he asks, “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got—”

“Why did you invite me here, Jamie?” The question comes spilling out of you, rushed as if it were waiting on the tip of your tongue and simply couldn’t stand to stay in any longer. Jamie stops in his tracks to blink at you. The look on his face encourages you to go on. “I mean, I know I texted you first. But why… why did you text me tonight? Why’d you—” You grimace, trying to find the right words. “Why’d you give me your number?”

He’s silent for a moment. Thinking. Evaluating. But his eyes haven’t left you. “Because I wanted you here,” he finally says. You cross your arms over your chest as he takes a step toward you. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you.”

You want to say that you’ve been driven crazy all week because you feel same, but decide against it. Instead, you look away from him and scoff. “Right.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you, and your heart stops with every step he takes. “I felt like I was goin’ insane. I didn’t…” For a flash of a second, he looks shy. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. And I didn’t think you’d actually text me. I mean, I hoped you would, but…”

He’s right in front of you, but you still refuse to look at him. Your gaze has shifted to the floor. “I shouldn’t have,” you mutter.

The asshole has the nerve to chuckle, but it’s nervous. Your stomach churns. You’re not sure if you’ve ever heard him nervous. “No, you probably shouldn’t have,” he agrees. “I don’t deserve it.” He pauses and your throat starts to tighten. “I didn’t deserve you.”

That makes you look at him. Either he’s actually apologetic about everything, or he’s gotten really good at knowing everything you want to hear. “No. You didn’t.”

His fingers tentatively brush your arm and you allow him to take your hand. “I know,” he says. “I was a fucking prick. I get that now. I should never have… done that shit to ya.” You’re close enough to him now that if you moved an inch, his forehead would be up against yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of it. The action makes your throat tighten. “And I can’t fix it. But I…” He trails off again and looks you dead in the eye once he has the words. “I want to make it up to you.”

Your resolve is getting weaker and you hate yourself for it. You lean back against the counter, like that will put space between you two. “Jamie…”

“Please,” he whispers. His forehead finally meets yours. You can feel his breath on your lips. You don’t pull away. “Let me make it up to you.”

The last front you have standing weakly presents itself. “If you think,” you begin, breath shuddering as his hand meets your neck, “that one 2 AM hookup is going to make up for what you did, I—”

“I know it won’t,” he says, and it sounds like he does know. “But I want it to be a start.” The fingers on your neck are now tracing your jaw. And they tighten when he says, “Let me show you just how sorry I am, yeah? Let me make it fucking good for you.”

Jesus fucking Christ. That last front dissolves the second he says that, and your logic flips on itself. You came over here for a reason. You knew what this was. At least you got an overdue apology. Whether or not he meant it, is still up in the air, but if he’s promising things like that, then you might as well get something out of it.

You struggle to get a word out, so you nod against his hand. “O-Okay,” you finally stammer out. The way he’s looking at you gives you enough confidence to say, “Fine. Make it up to me.”

Jamie’s lips curl into a smirk and say, “As you wish,” before they’re on yours.

He’s softer than you remember. His lips aren’t chapped, he isn’t as aggressive with it, and he isn’t as rushed. Everything about him feels more mature and you struggle to understand how fast he could have changed in four years. But you’re not complaining. Not when he’s kissing you like this, with more practice and passion than you can ever recall.

His hand unlocks from yours to slide it up your sweatshirt, and it’s surprisingly warm against your back. Still, you shiver from the contact and you can feel him smirk once more against your lips.

The action alone prompts you to fork a hand in his hair and tug at it slightly, reveling in the soft sound that escapes him. Everything about him comes back to you at once, and you’ve never been happier to know that the same things still get him. If he wants to play it like that, you can keep up.

His hands drop to grab your thighs and lift you onto the counter, breaking the kiss momentarily. Your chest is heaving up and down, lips swollen and wet. Jamie appears to be in the same boat. “Fuck,” he whispers, sounding even more out of breath than you. He dips his head to press a kiss to your neck, nose rubbing against it as he makes his way down. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Meant to tell you that at the shop.”

You’re too caught up in it all to play it cool, especially as he works at that one spot on your neck. “You look— fuck, you look good too. The long hair suits you.”

You feel him grin against your neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree breathily. “Looked like a prick with the old cut.”

You feel his teeth dig into your skin at that one, and you hiss. “You liked that prick,” he reminds you.

You were in love with that prick, but you ignore that thought. “I liked a lot of things about him,” you respond. While it’s honest, the accidental double meaning of it isn’t lost on you.

It’s certainly not lost on Jamie. “Yeah?” he asks again. He lifts his head to look at you, hand creeping up your leg. “What’d you like?” You grip his arm as it rises beneath your sweatshirt once more. “C’mon love. Tell me what you want.”

You hate the way your breath hitches the second his fingers meet your back. You know what you want. You want to see what he’s learned since you last had him. What he’s like four years later. What’s changed, what’s stayed the same. But you’re too embarrassed and much too proud to ask.

Instead, you decide to say, much too shyly for your liking, “You know what I want.”

He hums in agreement, other hand creeping dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. “I do, don’t I?” he murmurs. “Bet I know everything ya want. But I wanna hear you say it.”

“Oh my, God,” you say under your breath, frustration creeping into your voice. The asshole fucking laughs at you. “I want you to make good on your promise. This seems far from it.”

“Right, right, I’m sorry,” he tells you. He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Just making sure we’re still, y’know. On the same page.” He glances at you. “Right?”

You blink at him. You’re not sure you could have been clearer about what page you’re on. But that’s not what surprises you. What surprises you is the seriousness in his eyes. How he’s searching for assurance in yours. And you know that if, for whatever godly reason, you wanted to stop, he’d pull away immediately, despite how worked up he clearly is.

It's the bare fucking minimum, but it's more than you’re used to getting.

So, you nod. “Yeah,” you say. “Definitely on the same page.”

The grin he breaks out to is nothing short of breathtaking. “Good.”

“But—” you suddenly say, stopping him from leaning in once more. He freezes beneath your touch, brows furrowing. “This is… This is a one-time thing. You’re…” You trail off to find the word. “You’re apologizing to me. That’s all this is.”

His smile falters, dropping momentarily before returning with a bit less radiance. It’s his turn to nod. “Okay,” he says, fingers now toying with the edge of your sweatshirt. “Gotta make it count, then.”

And with that, Jamie presses his lips back to yours, grabbing you securely and pulling you off the counter. Your legs wrap around his waist, grabbing the sides of his face, like that’ll stable you against him.

This time, it’s more desperate. It’s more tongues and teeth, more force and intention behind each movement. He’s setting the pace, but you’re keeping up tenfold. While it’d been four years, you’re not sure if he’d ever kissed you like this. He’s passionate instead of aggressive. While he knows what he wants, he’s definitely not just going to take it. He may be leading but he’s listening to you. And that stirs something inside you that you haven’t felt in a long time.

That much is clear, because you unconsciously let out a quiet sound against his lips. You can feel him smiling once more as he walks you slowly to wherever the hell his bedroom is. You’re caught up in him. And by the way he’s gripping you, you can tell he’s just as caught up in you.

So much so, that he completely loses track of where he’s going and accidentally slams you into his doorframe. You yelp, more because of shock than pain, and pull away to glare at him.

Jamie’s already apologizing. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “Still gettin’ used to this place.”

“Well, figure out how to navigate better,” you respond, verging on a pout as you rub the back of your head.

“I’m sorry!” he repeats. He’s still got you against the doorframe. “It’s hard to see with your big head in me face. And I can’t kiss ya with, like, my eyes open. It’d be freaky.”

“I’ll give you a pass for that one,” you reply dryly. “Be weird instead of giving me a concussion.”

He’s walking you toward the bed when he mutters, “I’ll give you something, alright.”

Your back meets the mattress and you try to ignore the way he held his hand behind your head when he laid you down. You have under a second to adjust before he’s on top of you. The desperation returns and it almost takes your breath away.

He’s essentially straddling you, tugging at the waist of your leggings before he leaves one last kiss on your lips. He finally gets to pull your sweatshirt off, something he’d clearly been dying to rid you of since he first kissed you. You lift your arms up to help him, finding that you quickly start to do the same to him. You hear him chuckle as you attempt to get it up his back.

“I got it, love, hold on,” he says softly, tossing your hoodie to the side to take off his own. Your eyes immediately go to his chest and stomach and you refrain from reaching out to touch him. When you look up at him, you expect him to be smirking. However, he’s doing the exact opposite.

Jamie’s looking down at you like he can’t fucking believe you’re real. It’s jarring, seeing him like this, but you figure he’s in the same headspace as you and is still struggling to process that this is happening. It doesn’t matter, because before you can question it, he’s moving to press a kiss to your collarbone.

Your hand falls into his hair as he works his way down, mouthing the area of your chest. He pauses before he gets to the bra you’re wearing. His eyes flick up to yours. “Can I—”

You’re nodding before he can even get the words out, shifting to make it easier for him. He discards it to the floor with the rest. When he looks back at you, he releases a shaky breath and just stares.

He stares so intently that you begin to get self-conscious. “What?” you ask.

The question takes Jamie out of his trance. He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “I just— I… Fuck. I forgot how beautiful you were.”

That spreads a warmth through you, one that pulls at your core. As you feel your face heat, you realize you have nothing to say to that. Luckily, he’s already moving on.

Jamie’s different. Really different. And you don’t realize how different he is until you start looking at him like you are right now. You were trying to convince yourself when you told Leah that he’d changed, you’ll admit that. But right now, you think you may have been telling the truth.

He grabs the waist of your leggings once more, lifting your legs to pull them off. You can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips as he struggles to do so. He shakes his head with a soft smile. “Missed that.”

“What?” you ask again.

“Your laugh,” he replies. “Missed that more than you know.”

The sweet words hit you like a bullet. The vulnerability in his voice is what gets you. Goddammit, when did he get so fucking nice? It drives you insane. But it also makes you quietly admit, “I think I’ve got an idea.”

With your leggings now gone, Jamie’s smile turns fonder. Gentler. He presses a kiss to your leg but says nothing in response. He simply places your legs down, eyes flicking down. He lifts his hand to trace down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your panties. The feeling makes you flinch.

He hooks a finger in the band, and your hips buck up to encourage him. His other hand spreads across your hip in a poor effort to keep you still. “Easy,” he murmurs.

You huff out a breath. “You can—” Your breath hitches as two of his fingers push into your underwear. “Fuck, you can take them off.”

His lips quirk up. “Well, thank you for the permission,” he says. “But not yet. I wanna take it slow with ya.”

Your mouth parts. “Why?”

“Because it’s been years since I’ve seen you,” he answers, moving up to kiss you softly. He speaks against your lips as he says, “And I’ve apparently only got one shot to do this right. So I’m gonna make this last.”

You roll your eyes at his terribly disguised jab. “You’re a dick,” you mutter against him.

“And you’re—” He cuts himself off and a gasp escapes your lips as he cups your core and rubs his palm against it. “Fuck, love. You’re really fucking wet.” He’s positioned on you so that you can feel him getting harder against you thigh. “This all for me, yeah?”

His voice is cocky, while still sounding awestruck. The remaining dignity you have left makes you roll your eyes, albeit a bit embarrassed. “It’s for whoever doesn’t take their fucking time to give me what I want,” you bite.

Jamie draws back from you with a full smirk on his face. “That so?” he asks. The hand against you starts creeping up to the band of your panties. “And what is it that you want? You still haven’t told me.”

You scoff. “I told you.”

He pulls your underwear down your legs and the air around you suddenly makes you realize just how exposed you are. You told yourself you’d never give him the satisfaction of seeing you like this again. But here you were.

His fingers brush against the inside of your thigh, and you shiver once more. “No,” he tells you gently. “You didn’t. You just said you wanted me to keep my promise. You didn’t tell me what you wanted.”

He’s moving closer and closer to the place you want him and you don’t know if you can take it anymore. You shift uncomfortably, as if that will cease the ache. But you know only one thing will.

So, you give him the answer he’s been waiting for this entire time. “You.” His gaze meets yours. “I want you, Jamie. Please.”

That breathtaking grin returns. “Just because you asked so nicely.”

And then he puts his mouth on you without warning.

You spasm at the contact, crying out as he uses both arms to hold you still. The second you calm down, one hand leaves your thigh and you feel him work two fingers into you. Fuck. He didn’t know that before.

And it’s not like he was ever bad in bed when you two were together. You’re not sure you would have stayed with him if that were the case. It’s just… he’s better now. He’s hitting everything nearly perfectly, not stumbling like he used to. He’s more confident. More assured. He knows what he’s doing.

And it’s fucking hot.

The sounds that fill his room are downright obscene. He’s gripping one side of you to keep you in place, splitting you open on his knuckles with the other. His mouth zeroes in on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking in a way that honestly has you close already.

“F-fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, Jamie. Don’t st— shit. Don’t stop. Please.”

Of course, the fucking shit he is, stops. He grins up at you, but continues to slowly pump his fingers in and out. “You sound so fucking pretty begging like that,” he tells you. He’s just as out of breath as you are. He feels you clench around his fingers at the praise and it only eggs him on further. “Look so pretty too. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Jamie,” you whine again. He’s going too slow. Teasing. It’s not fucking fair. He’s supposed to be the one apologizing to you. “I need— Ngh. I need—”

“What do you need?” he asks. “Tell me.”

You think you’d kill him if you weren’t completely incapacitated. “More,” you manage to get out, wincing as he continues at his slow pace. You’re close. Embarrassingly close. “Just fucking more. Please. I’m—” You interrupt yourself with a moan as he shoves his fingers deeper into you.

“I know,” he nearly coos. “I’ve got you.”

And got you he does. Because not only does he pick up the pace, he stretches you with a third finger. The sting of it is momentary, and it subsides as soon as he bends down and swipes your clit with his tongue.

Your back arches. “Jesus fucking— Jamie. Oh, my God.”

He’s good. Of course, he’s fucking good. He’s Jamie Tartt. You’re not sure he’s ever been bad at anything physical in his life. Emotionally was another story. But that story didn’t matter right now. Not when he’s got you like this, and you’re teetering over the edge.

He pulls away from you, breath tickling your core as he speaks. “C’mon,” he chides. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you, love?” He takes your breathy silence as confirmation and nods to himself. “Yeah. You just need—”

He removes one finger and crooks the rest a certain way, deeper than before. Your heart may stop beating. He’s done something he did to you time and time again, something that he was actually really fucking good at, something he knew you liked years ago. When he looks up at you, he searches your eyes. And by the way they roll back, he knows he’s struck gold.

The smirk returns and he continues to work his fingers into you, smirk growing each time he hears you say his name. “Yeah,” he whispers. “That’s it. That’s still it.”

You could finish at any moment. The telltale heat is rising in your stomach, and you’re just waiting for the cord to snap. And then, as if your muscle memory takes over, you reach out for his arm.

But instead of letting you do it like before, he does something completely different. He intertwines his free hand with the back of yours and guides it to your stomach. And then he presses on your hand.

The pressure builds. You’re barely able to make any noise. And then—

“C’mon,” Jamie repeats. “Come for me, angel. I wanna see it.”

The cord snaps, and you do as you’re told. You come. Hard.

Jamie talks you through it, fingers still moving to coax your climax out of you. You’re sure you look pathetic, crying out and thrashing around in his bed, but you don’t care. You can barely fucking see right now.

It’s been a while for you. Or at least been a while since you’ve had anything that good. And it completely strips away any sort of attitude or frustration you had before.

When you finally come back down, you laugh softly, shaking your head and throwing your arm over your face. “Fuck,” you say through a chuckle.

You feel him shift, moving up the bed to hover over you once more. When he removes your arm from your eyes, you see that he’s smiling. “Nobody’s ever laughed after I’ve done that,” he tells you, a faux pout pulling at his lips. He bends down to press them to yours and you can taste yourself. “It better be a good fuckin’ sign.”

You laugh again, reaching up to cup his cheek and pull him into another kiss. “Very good sign,” you assure him. It’s muffled against him, but you think he gets the point.

It’s then that you catch him by surprise and flip the two of you over, straddling him in a way that makes him release a breathy sound that you’d missed dearly. But, something feels off.

Your glance down at him, expecting to feel or see fabric once you reach his leg. But there’s not much. Only what feels like boxer shorts. It catches you off guard. When did he take off his—

It doesn’t matter. It’s easier for you now. Especially as your fingers move across his abdomen, biting back a grin at the way he shudders. He looks up at you from his pillow.

“What are you doing?” he asks leadingly.

You shrug innocently, fingers toying with the band hanging low on his hips. “Returning the favor,” you reply.

Jamie makes a noise of disapproval, placing a hand on your thigh like that’ll stop you. “I’m supposed to be the one making it up to you,” he states, but his voice gets less firm as you cup him through the fabric. “Fuck. Y-You don’t owe me anythin’. No favors.”

You shake your head, pulling at his boxers so that he springs free from inside. Your eyes travel back to his as you reach out and gently grab his cock, staring down at him with a smirk dancing on your lips. “You sure?”

He looks pained. You don’t know why. You’re offering a way to take him out of his misery. But still, he shakes his head and moves his arm from your leg to your back.

He takes his turn to flip you over next. He swears under his breath as he does so, shaking his head when you land on your back.

“I told you,” he says, taking his boxers all the way off now. “It’s about you. Not me.” He shakes his head again, but this time it’s a bit more frustrated. When he speaks, it’s mostly to himself. “Can’t believe I just fuckin’ said no to that.”

A snort escapes you. “You’re a changed man, Jamie Tartt,” you joke.

He shrugs before placing his arms on either side of you. His voice teeters on teasing and earnest. “I’ve been trying to tell ya that.”

You’re not sure if it’s him, or the situation, or the sex, but you think you believe him. It makes your chest heavy. But you can’t admit that. You won’t let yourself. So, you keep that feeling tucked away, way in the back of your mind for safekeeping. You know it’s better like that. For your emotional sake, at least.

You allow yourself to prop yourself up on your elbow and kiss him instead of responding to that, bringing him in closer. You can feel the length of him press against your stomach, and his groan vibrates against your lips.

He pulls away, grinding into you. The heat of your body is making him go wild. “Can I—”

You know what he wants. And you want it too. “Please,” you say.

He nods, moving to angle himself against you. You glance down to watch him, heat flooding your face as he strokes himself before glancing up at you. You nod in return, giving him the confirmation he needs. Jamie grins.

He slides in you slowly. The stretch is mild but grows as he hovers over you once more. It’s easy to adjust, having been warmed up moments before. But for Jamie, it’s not as easy.

He bottoms out almost immediately, tensing over you. His head bows, chin falling to his chest. “Fuck,” he curses. It’s quiet but straight-up sinful. “God, fucking— you’re so—” You grip onto his bicep as he steadies himself. “I’m sorry. It’s just— i-it’s been a minute. And you’re f-fucking tight. Jesus.”

You don’t mind. He feels good like this, despite the fact he’s not moving. Your hand travels from his arm to his hair, tucking a piece of it behind his ear before settling on his jaw. “It’s alright,” you tell him. “We’ve got time.”

Jamie’s eyes snap open at that, but he’s not looking at you like you thought he would. You were expecting a cheeky sort of smile, a smirk, something in that realm. But he’s not. He’s looking at you like…

It’s something you can’t define. Something you’ve never seen before. It churns your stomach yet makes your heart race. Neither of you says a word.

He just dips down to kiss you again and slowly begins to move inside you. Your lips part in a gasp, and he slides his tongue in your mouth. Your back arches into him.

Before you know it, he's breaking from you and is breathing heavy against your neck. “Shit,” he groans. “You’re just— fuck. You…” He trails off, mouth hovering over your collarbone. “You drive me f-fucking mad. God, everything about you. Y-you don’t even know, do you?”

The pace picks up. He’s thrusting into you harder now and your nails dig into his back. You hear him hiss at the contact, but neither of you seem to care. “Fuck.” It’s all you can say. “Fuck, Jamie.”

He’s clearly not done talking. “How’d I-I fuck this up? Huh?” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. His mouth is on your chest now and the feeling runs through you like fire. “Fucking idiot. Didn’t know what I had. Can’t believe I let you go.”

You clench around him and it throws him off kilter. You watch his jaw clench, hand beside you gripping the pillow you’re on. “You w-were an idiot.” Your agreement is much less effective when it’s closed out by a high-pitched moan.

“I know. Fuck, I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. Deserved better.” He continues to slam into you. “I wanna gi—” A strangled sound erupts from his lips. “Give you better. You’re so—” When he shakes his head, he looks wrecked. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Something about that sends a shock to your system. It makes you cry out and you can feel it. Your legs tremble around him. You’re close again. You’re really fucking close.

He kisses you once more, deeper than before. It’s more frantic. Everything about him is more erratic. You can tell he’s getting there too. “Couldn’t stop,” he manages to get out, hot against your lips. “Couldn’t s-stop thinking about you. I missed you.”

You clench around him again, the admission inching you closer. “Shit,” you say. “Fuck, Jamie, keep going.”

And keep going he does. His hand moves down your stomach, fingers finding your clit. He rubs circles into it and that sends you into a fucking tailspin. He swallows the sound you make.

“Missed you,” he says again, but it’s more helpless. Jamie fucking whimpers. “God, I f-fucking missed you, angel. Missed you so fucking much, I—”

You don’t hear the rest of what he says because you come the second he makes that sound. It’s white-hot. Blinding. Your legs twitch around him and you claw at him as he continues to rub your clit. You’re loud, but you don’t give a shit. It seems to spur him on.

He’s not far behind you. He spills into you with a groan, stomach flexing as he heaves over you, twitching inside of you. You’re still recovering from your own high as you open your eyes to watch him. You catch his expression for a moment before he’s collapsing into you.

You release a soft ‘oof’ at the sudden weight of him. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and neither do you. You just breathe together. But after a moment you allow yourself to put a hand in his hair.

“You’re fucking heavy,” you tell him, but there’s not much bite in it.

You feel him chuckle. “Give me second,” he says. “Not as fuckin’ agile as I used to be. Took a lot out of me, alright?”

You roll your eyes but continue to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-six and like, the face of the AFC,” you tell him. “Richmond might have to shorten your contract if you’re dying after that.”

He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Take that up with me Chairwoman then.”

You can’t help but laugh as you push him off of you, wincing as you feel him slip out. He lands with the same noise you did. “If she heard you complaining like that, she’d be on my side.”

Jamie grins at you, joining in on your laughter. He shifts toward you, grabbing your hand to play with your fingers. “You’re probably right. Shouldn’t be complainin’,” he says. He lifts your hand to his lips. “Not when you’re here.”

They’re sweet words. The casualty of them makes your heart swell. But that anxiety about him returns. One time thing, you tell yourself. Apology. One time. That’s all.

You pull your hand back softly and he glances over at you. There’s a hint of worry in his eyes, like that one movement set off alarm bells in his head. You give him an uneasy smile.

Before you can move to get up or say anything or do something, he’s talking. And you have to refrain from wincing.

“I know…” He looks away from you. Shy. “I know you said one time,” he says, as if he can read your fucking mind. “And that’s… That’s okay. I get that, yeah? But I—” Jamie wipes a hand down his face, staring at the ceiling. “I meant what I said. I missed ya. Really.”

You missed him too. But your walls have been rising back up since he started talking again. “I don’t know what you want me to do with that,” you tell him, only partially lying.

You feel like an asshole when he winces. Maybe you were being an asshole. Maybe it was finally your turn to do so.

“Just…” He finally looks at you. “If you ever… don’t want this to be just a one-time thing.” He waves it off in an attempt to look casual. You know he’s anything but. “You’ve got my number. Or whatever.”

The timidness in his voice makes your resolve soften. Even if you don’t see him again, you suppose you can let him down easy. He’s been kind enough tonight to deserve that. You nod at him as you sit up. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll let you know.”

It’s only slightly awkward as you get out of his bed and search for your clothes. He asks if he can call you an Uber home and you reject it, letting him know that you’ve got one on the way.

You can feel his eyes on you as you dress, ignoring the way they burn into you. You can tell he’s searching for something to say, or something to talk to you about but doesn’t know what.

You’re half-dressed before he can shoot himself in the foot and say something stupid. “Hey,” he finally says. You glance over your shoulder at him after you slip your sweatshirt on. “I’m really glad you texted me.”

The nice streak you’re riding on continues and you offer a small but genuine smile in return. “Me too,” you admit, ignoring the way that his own soft smile pulls at your heartstrings.

Before you leave his room, you offer one more admission. You stop in the doorframe he hit you against, lips curling further upward. “It was really good to see you, Jamie.”

He props himself up on his elbow, smile growing. “Good,” he says, nodding. Then, like a prick, he winks at you. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

You physically cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes and you hear him laugh to himself as you walkdown his hall. “Goodbye, asshole.”

He shouts a tired-sounding ‘bye!’ when you slip your shoes on, shaking your head as you look around his apartment once more. The candle on his counter is still burning, smelling of amber moss and palo santo.

You blow it out before you leave, knowing he’ll forget.

And as you do so, you feel yourself regress. Or grow. You’re not quite sure which one.

But it makes you curse under your breath and leave his flat immediately.

There is one more universal truth you forgot to mention.

And that’s that the second you think you’re over Jamie Tartt, he comes back into your life and flips everything on its head. And it’s the only truth that’s been confirmed to you all week.

Because the second you arrive home and see that you have a text waiting for you, your heart picks up. You hate the way you get excited to see it.

I had a really good time tonight.

And the second he comes back into your life, you’re reminded that you’re not over him. Not even in the slightest. And it’s fucking debilitating.

me too.

And you know your friends are going to kill you the second you follow up with.

i’m free friday if you want to grab a drink.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfiction #bad ideas #the one who's not a loser but THEE loser #discowrites

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yelena-bellova · 8 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen: Free

Plot: The morning after Y/n and Jamie’s heartbreaking talk, an unexpected savior shows up on Y/n’s door, leaving her at a crossroads.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, mention of child neglect/abuse, mention of sex

A/N: THIS IS IT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS THE CHAPTER. I’m so excited for you guys to read this one and have all your questions answered. I hope the payoff is as sweet as you’ve been expecting. Y’all have been so enthusiastic over the last few chapters, it really makes me smile. Enjoy!! ❤️💙💛

———————

Heartache could spread through the body just as easily as illness. Y/n’s head was fogged, her limbs hurt and she felt nauseous the second she opened her eyes.

Somehow she managed to call room service and order breakfast, plain toast and coffee, before falling back into bed. The clock read 10AM, she hasn’t slept that long in years. Then again, there wasn’t much sleep had.

The weight of Jamie’s confession weighed in her chest just as heavily as the moment he’d made it. She’d been up till some unholy hour, replaying the whole thing. His words, the quiver in his voice, his lips against her face…it reduced Y/n fits of tears, breaking her over and over.

There was no question as to whether she should skip the match or not. Not only did she have no desire to be around people, but she didn’t want to mess with Jamie’s head any more than she already had. She was worried enough she’d already cost him the game.

A rhythmic knock at her door signaled room service arriving. Y/n trudged across the room and opened the door, expecting to meet the waiter.

Instead, she got Ted, comically lifting the lid off the platter.

“Mornin’ sunshine!”

Y/n sighed, smiling as much as she could, which wasn’t very much.

Ted, however, found himself hilarious. “Room service fella was about to knock right as I was walkin’ by. Thought I’d have some fun with it.”

“Of course,” Y/n gestured to the room, “Come on in.”

Ted set the tray down on the table before turning back to Y/n, who was already moving to the other side of the room. There was a stiffness to her posture, as if she’d allowed a home invader in. Ted was well familiarized with her character, but he hadn’t seen her so reserved since she first started at Richmond.

“So what’s up?” Y/n asked, her tone devoid of any life.

“Oh, I just wanted to check up on you,” Ted shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets, “Haven’t seen ya in a while.”

“Yeah, things have been busy.”

“I bet,” Ted smiled, “You and Keeley must be kickin’ butt over there. The Dynamic Duo, but with gobs more style.”

Y/n chucked politely, playing with her hands out of nervousness.

Ted waited, watching as Y/n tried to dodge his line of vision. He didn’t expect an explanation to fly out of her mouth, but she was clearly on edge. His chances of waiting her out were decent.

“Well, we’re all glad you’re back,” Ted added, “Owner’s box has been lonely without you, I’ll bet.”

Y/n shut her eyes, it made the lying easier. “Yeah, Ted, I don’t think I can make this one.”

His face didn’t fall an inch, “Oh no. Something wrong?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t get much sleep,” she continued, that part was true. She thought she remembered the clock reading 5AM around the time exhaustion took over.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Ted played along, “I know the boys miss havin’ you around.”

Y/n slipped around the topic, walking to the window. “They excited for today?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “Revved up and ready to go.”

“That’s good,” she kicked her foot against the wall and diverted her gaze to the curtains. “How’s, uh…how’s Jamie?”

Ted studied Y/n, taking in her fidgeting hands and the exaggerated effort to her words. As hard as she tried, Y/n wasn’t that good an actress.

“He’s alright,” Ted answered, “Bit off, y’know. Little bit like you.”

With every word exchanged, Y/n could feel Ted unraveling the whole thing. He could see right through her.

“That’s too bad,” she said, her voice wobbling. The tears that she’d fallen asleep with were reawakening.

“Yeah, it is,” Ted agreed, “I sure hope he figures out whatever’s botherin’ him before the game.”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/n hummed, feeling like she couldn’t breathe, “He’s got a lot of people counting on him.”

“Yeah, but that ain’t as big a deal,” Ted took a seat on the edge of Y/n’s bed. “I’m more concerned with him, y’know. Why he’s hurtin’.”

Ted noticed Y/n’s shoulders begin to tremble.

“Why he’s keepin’ whatever it is to himself rather than leanin’ on somebody.”

Y/n wiped her hands over her face, her cheeks wet with guilt. She had finally reached it, her dreaded breaking point.

She turned to Ted, who looked at her as only a father could. He knew.

“You wanna tell me anything goin’ on?”

Crossing the room and sinking down on the mattress next to Ted, Y/n softly sobbed.

“Is it Jamie?” Ted asked.

Y/n bit her lip.

“Is it us?”

She sniffled.

“Whole enchilada?”

Y/n’s trembled as she inhaled, “I’m scared, Ted.”

“Of what?”

“This,” she gestured around them, “Richmond. This whole thing.”

Ted waited for her to explain further.

“I grew up having to fight for every shred of attention,” Y/n continued, “Doing everything I could to get my parents to…care. And no matter what I did, they never loved me. Not like parents are supposed to love their kids. And when I realized that, I just…shut everyone out. In high school, in college…and it worked. I was safe. I didn’t have to worry about getting hurt.”

“And then I…” Y/n paused, the happy memory washing over her, “I met these two women in a bar and they offered me a job. And suddenly, I’m a part of this sport that I never cared about and there’s this…family I never asked for. And it should have made me happy,” she grasped her stomach, “But it scared me, Ted. It fucking terrified me because you were all so kind and welcoming and you just took me in.”

She stopped to take a breath, “And then Jamie just…” Y/n sniffled, “He just…happened. And that was the scariest part because…”

She couldn’t say the words. Just like 12 hours before, she still couldn’t physically force them out of her body. But somehow, even without speaking, the sentiment got across.

“Hey,” Ted slid an arm around Y/n’s shoulders. His dad mode had been activated.

For the first time in a long time, Y/n allowed herself to be held as she weeped.

“It’s okay,” Ted soothed, rubbing a hand over her arm, “You’re okay.”

After hours of crying underneath her sheets, Y/n thought she had nothing left to give. But the comfort of another person’s presence created a whole new wave. She was letting down from years of self-determination to conquer her pain on her own.

“Y’know,” Ted said after a moment, “Openin’ yourself up’s one of the scariest things in the world. Anyone who says otherwise’s never really done much hurting. But it’s worth it.”

“How do you know that?” Y/n whimpered.

“You don’t,” Ted stated, “No way to know what’ll happen before it happens. But if you don’t take the risk of gettin’ hurt, you’ll never end up with anything worth having. Just how life works.”

“But y’know,” he sighed, “Where we work…it’s kinda the exception. The people there’re some of the best I’ve ever known. They don’t let you down.”

Y/n’s tears were slowing in speed, but not intensity.

“Know how our right reverend Mr. Rojas likes to say that football is life?” Ted earned a slight smile from Y/n, “Same goes for AFC Richmond. These people’re gonna stick by you through thick and thin. Once you’re a part of the family, you’re there. Doesn’t matter if you wanna be. It’s up to you whether you let ‘em in..but they’re gonna love you whether you like it or not. It’s a heck of a lot easier to just let ‘em.”

Throughout the years, Y/n had lacked many relationships, but that of a parent was the one she’d longed for the most. She needed someone to help guide her, to lovingly correct her when she was making the biggest mistakes of her life. In the moment she needed it most, Ted fit the role perfectly.

Without any prompting, Y/n slipped her arms around Ted’s neck and hugged him.

Ted returned and received it, he’d been going through it too. As true as ever, helping someone out of their pit stitched a little piece of him back together as well. He wanted Y/n to succeed in everything she did and he believed without a doubt that she could. But he wanted her to be happy, truly happy, more than anything.

“Thank you,” she whispered over his shoulder.

“No thanks needed,” he smiled, “I got your back.”

Y/n let go of him slowly and hesitantly. It was 10:30, the match was less than two hours away. “You need to go.”

“I do,” Ted replied, patting her shoulder before standing up, “You think you’re gonna stop by for a bit now? Cheer us on?”

Grimacing slightly, Y/n ducked her head towards the floor.

“C’mon now,” Ted clicked his tongue, “I thought we just made progress.”

Y/n chuckled and wiped under her eyes.

“Well, I hope you change your mind.”

Ted left Y/n with plenty to mediate on and strolled back into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He could lead her to victory, but he couldn’t hand her the win.

Y/n stayed on the bed’s edge a long while after Ted left, contemplating all he’d said. She was at what was potentially the most important crossroads of her life. Heeding Ted’s advice held the possibility of more heartache, more loss, more feelings of inadequacy. But didn’t her isolation already offer that in spades? Wasn’t she hurting enough on her own? Tearing herself down at every opportunity? How could anything possibly be worse than that?

But she had felt worse, twelve hours ago. Breaking Jamie’s heart after he’d poured his out to her had crushed her. She’d hurt him so deeply in the name of self preservation. Walking away from him was the most difficult thing she’d ever done. The worst part was that it was totally avoidable. If she’d have told him that she loved him too, they’d have been saved so much pain. Jamie wouldn’t have had to endure her rejection, Y/n wouldn’t have lost the most important person in her life. The blame was entirely hers.

It wasn’t just Jamie. Y/n was so tired of keeping Keeley at arm’s length. She craved her weekly tea with Rebecca. She missed problem solving with Higgins. She wanted to laugh with Ted and talk life with Beard and annoy Roy. She wanted to go to movies with Sam and drink with Dani and have lunches with Colin. She wanted to cheer the boys on at games and celebrate with them after.

She wanted to win and lose with all of them.

She wanted to be a part of their family.

But to do so, she had to heal her first one.

Before she knew what she was doing, Y/n grabbed her phone off her nightstand. She scrolled through her contacts, even though she had memorized the number in hopes that would somehow equal a call. She pressed the name and dialed.

It rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

Y/n hadn’t expected them to pick up. It was 4-something AM where they were.

The familiar message played, asking her to leave her name and number.

Finally, the machine beeped.

“Hi…it’s me…” she started, suddenly nervous, “It’s Y/n. I know it’s early there, I don’t even know if you are there but…I needed to do this.”

Y/n drew a quick breath, it was now or never. “You guys really fucked me up. Me and Caylee. I mean, we’re really screwed up because of you. Maybe she’s doing better than me, maybe I’m the only one who’s still not over all of it but…you really messed up. And maybe you know that, maybe you don’t, but it’s the truth. I am…” she paused, “So broken because you two couldn’t love me. No— you know what,” her voice gained strength, “You could have loved me. You didn’t. For whatever reason, you didn’t. I did everything I possibly could to earn your love, and I never got it. And that’s fucked up.”

Her anger hastened her heartbeat, urging Y/n to go on. “And I don’t know how to forgive you for that. I know it’s possible, worse people have done worse things and they’ve somehow found a way to still be a family, but…I want to. If not for you guys, for me,” her chest’s rise and falls had evened out, “Because I’m tired of being broken. I’m tired of pushing everybody away. I’m tired of thinking that there’s something unlovable about me. I’m tired of thinking that being alone is somehow better than having people that care about you, and I’m tired of being scared,” Y/n threw her free arm out at her side and laughed, “I’m so tired of being scared.”

“None of this probably makes any sense to you, but, ” she sighed, “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to keep doing this. Only talking on my birthday, seeing you every couple years, not knowing what’s going on in your lives…I don’t want that. I want to know you. I want to come home for Christmas. I want to share my life with you. And if you can’t do that then…I don’t want anything.”

Her own words shocked her, was she really potentially kicking her parents out of her life?

“Because I’ve built a really amazing life here,” she said, her voice faltered with emotion, “With amazing people and they love me. They really love me and I’m crazy about them. And I want you guys to be a part of it,” she exhaled and felt the tears rock forward in her eyes, “And if you don’t want that, that’s okay. I’ll be alright because I have them.”

Y/n sighed, feeling the weight of a lifetime lift off her chest.

“I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad,” she continued, “And I hope you love me, for once, more than you do anything else.”

Y/n lowered the phone, staring at the call time. 2 minutes and 10 seconds was all it had taken. “Bye.”

The moment she disconnected, the room suddenly came to life. There was color to the walls and texture to the curtains. There was light shining in through the window and the smell of the coffee on its tray filled the room.

Y/n was free.

Lightened by the release of her life’s pain, the decision at hand became so clear. Y/n flipped on the hotel television, switching the channel to Sky Sports. The match was already into its second half and the Greyhounds were up by one goal.

She did the math in her head. The stadium was ten minutes away. She could still make it.

Flying across the room, Y/n dug through her suitcase for any clothes that weren’t pajamas. She emptied the contents onto her bed only to spot a familiar piece of fabric tucked in one of the compartments.

Y/n unfolded it.

Jamie’s jersey. Still packed from Wembley.

She laughed under her breath, the coincidence of it all was too perfect.

Y/n slipped on the oversized shirt, same as the last time. She threw on jeans and sneakers, grabbing her phone and coat before racing out her hotel room.

The elevator would take too long, she decided, so she sped down the stairs from the sixth floor all the way to the lobby. Jamie hadn’t been the only one to benefit from Roy’s training sessions.

Y/n bolted out the front doors of the hotel and ran to the sidewalk, waving her hands wildly to the cabs that drove by. Eventually, one stopped for her.

“Where to, love?”

“Ethiad Stadium,” Y/n answered as she hopped in the backseat, “Quick as you can.”

The cabbie got back in his lane and took her the way of the stadium. Y/n buzzed in the backseat, adrenaline pulsing through her veins at what she was doing.

“Could you put the match on?” She asked, most of them were typically broadcasted on the radio.

The driver flipped the station till he found the correct one. Y/n listened intently from the backseat, hanging on every word.

Halfway to the stadium, the cab hit typical game day traffic. After waiting impatiently a few minutes, the commentators announced there were twenty minutes left on the clock. If nothing changed in the next thirty seconds, Y/n would miss it entirely.

“You know what,” she reached into her coat pocket, picking a few bills from her wallet and throwing them in the front seat, “Keep the change.”

Y/n ignored the confused calls of the driver as she slid out the backseat into traffic. She ran through the lines of cars until she hit sidewalk. With every slap of her foot against the sidewalk, she could feel Ted’s words penetrate her heart even further. This was what she was supposed to feel.

The sight of Ethiad Stadium welcomed her. Guided by signage, she sprinted to the back entrance she’d usually come through with Rebecca and Keeley. Her sneakers practically screeched across the marble floor, slowing down only for the metal detector and security pat-down.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” Y/n recited her name to the liaison holding a guest list, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”

“Ah,” the young man located her, “Welcome to Ethiad Stadium, Miss-“

Y/n was off before he could finish, bolting up the staircase that would lead her to the VIP box.

She pushed past guests dressed far nicer than her and slid through gaps half her size. Somewhere along the way, Arlo White and Chris Park’s voices became clearer. They were being played through the stadium’s sound system.

“Tartt tried to soldier on, but now he’s in some distress and may require attention.”

Y/n’s steps slowed, pausing in the busy hall to listen properly.

“The med team is helping him off the field. It looks like Richmond may be in trouble.”

Never in her life had Y/n run faster.

Arriving at the VIP box, she rushed up to the security guard.

“Ticket please.”

“I don’t have one,” Y/n panted, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”

“Sorry, love,” the burly man shook his head, “Can’t let you in without a ticket.”

“No, no, no, I’m PR,” Y/n insisted, “I need to get in there now.”

The security guard was unmovable, taking a firm stance in the doorway to block her. “I can’t allow you in without a ticket, ma’am.”

With Jamie injured, there was a new recklessness to Y/n’s urgency. She didn’t quite care what she had to do to get in. She jumped in place to see over the guard’s shoulder, spotting the top of Rebecca’s coiffed hair and Keeley’s curls.

“There! There’s my bosses!” Y/n exclaimed, surging forward through the tiny space between the man and the door.

He pulled her back and away from getting any further, “You can’t enter without a ticket. If you don’t leave now-“

“Rebecca!” Y/n shouted, “Keeley! Keeley! Rebecca!”

She was loud enough that both women, plus Higgins, turned around in their seats. The sight of Y/n struggling against the security guard must have frightened them more than she’d intended.

Rebecca rushed through the room, “Let her go! Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“You know this woman?” The guard asked, still holding Y/n back as if she were some crazed fan.

“She works with me,” Keeley scolded, having followed Rebecca, “Get your fucking hands off her.”

The guard released Y/n quickly, eager to avoid any more reprimanding. “I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he addressed her, “Go on in.”

Y/n launched herself into Rebecca’s waiting arms, exhausted but charging off once more with the women.

“We thought you weren’t coming,” Keeley said as they rushed back to their seats.

Ignoring any and all things around her, Y/n ran down the steps of the box and threw herself against the railing. Jamie. Where was Jamie?

Down by the side of the pitch, he was laid out with the physios working on his ankle. Whatever move he’d pulled had cost him something terrible.

“What happened?” Y/n asked, unaware of who she was asking.

“He stopped a goal and landed wrong,” Keeley explained, slipping into the seat beside Y/n’s, “They just brought him off.”

Y/n clutched the railing with a vice-like grip, her eyes never leaving Jamie. She could see he was breathing hard, that his body clenched with every touch the physios made. He’d never been injured on the pitch this bad.

The game, however, couldn’t stop for one player. Ted made the call to play with ten men for the time being while Jamie rested. The Greyhounds held their own, Van Damme in particular blocking nearly every goal. But all Man City needed was one goal to tie things up and take the league title.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n mumbled as if she could will him to rally, “Come on.”

When the medics had done everything they could, Ted kneeled down next to Jamie. They appeared to be in deep conversation, Y/n would have killed to be on the other side, encouraging Jamie back onto the pitch. Whatever Ted was saying had to help. The team didn’t stand a chance if it didn’t.

“Get up, get up, get up,” she whispered, “Jamie, please get up.”

In perfect timing, Jamie extended a hand to Ted, who helped get him to his feet. Y/n held her breath as he bore weight on his ankle and exhaled when he didn’t buckle.

“Yes,” she clapped.

Ted went back to Beard and Roy, and Jamie took his time getting back on the pitch. The Man City fans livened up and began booing their former striker.

With her emotions driving her, Y/n turned to the sections around hers. “Oh, fuck off!”

Jamie shared her sentiment, taking the hate as well as the praise. He egged them on further and encouraged the taunts, jutting his tongue out and beating on his chest.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n cheered. There was no way for him to see or hear her, but she stayed up and screaming as if she were right beside him.

Jamie made it back to the pitch and the match resumed. Van Damme blocked another goal with spectacular skill and got the ball over to Isaac. Isaac kicked it across the field to Jamie, who controlled it masterfully.

Y/n’s breath hung in her chest as he moved across the field. Before her eyes, he came back to his truest self. This was him at his very best. This was Jamie playing for no one but himself and it was beautiful.

Jamie avoided every single City player that tried to steal the ball away. Making it to the net, he sent the ball flying and the whole stadium froze.

It soared past the goalie, a perfect shot.

The Greyhounds pounced on their teammate, hugging and slapping him on the back. The entire crowd went wild, the Richmond fans lost their minds.

“YES!!” Y/n threw her hands in the air, “JAMIE!!”

Keeley, Rebecca and Higgins jumped to their feet, cheering and screaming. Y/n and Keeley reached for one another and squealed.

Jamie chose the honorable route and didn’t make a big deal over the goal against his former club. When the boys let go of him, the ref blew his whistle and held up the sub board. Roberts was coming on, Jamie was coming off.

It was the most extraordinary way to leave a match, and Jamie was in a bit of pain. He wasn’t going to argue with the decision. But he hadn’t expected the Man City half of the stadium to change their tune. When their boos morphed to cheers, his eyes glistened with lifelong tears.

It had been a long road to get to a point where Jamie could play for himself. He’d spent all his years working to prove his father wrong, using his hatred as motivation to grow his skills. When he’d exhausted that option, he found himself a man without a country. He wasn’t sure what to do.

Then Y/n had shattered his heart.

He’d woken up with very little motivation to play. Their goodbye had added edge to all his fears. Mixed with the possibility of seeing his father, it was a miracle Jamie could move. But he was a fighter till the end, and even if he was a wreck, he would still give 110%. That was his gift.

As he looked up into the stands, despite everything, he wished Y/n was there to celebrate with him.

Little did he know, Y/n was crying tears of pride on the second level. She watched Jamie walk off the field feeling her heart completely tied to his. He’d proved everyone, even himself, wrong.

The game ended soon after that, with Richmond coming out on top. They had earned their spot in the last game of the season and a chance at the Premier League title. Y/n, Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins fell into an group hug.

“Hey, hey,” Y/n pulled out of Keeley’s arms and locked eyes, “You’re my best friend.”

Keeley’s gaze grew teary. She didn’t know what had changed in Y/n since the night before, but she welcomed it and hugged her tighter.

“And you,” Y/n reached over to Rebecca, “You’re just so fucking amazing.”

Rebecca laughed and wrapped an arm around Y/n, lovingly kissing her hair. Her friend was back from wherever she’d disappeared to.

“Oh,” Y/n grabbed hold of Higgins and grinned, “I love working with you so much.”

Higgins embraced her and shouted over the crowd. “Good to have you back.”

As much as she adored them, Y/n’s eyes fell downwards to the pitch. Jamie was celebrating amidst the boys, but they were about to leave.

Keeley followed her gaze, “Go. They’ll take him to the med room.”

Y/n’s face dropped, realizing that she had made a huge faux pas towards Keeley she hadn’t even considered.

Keeley could read the worry before it crossed Y/n’s lips. “Oi, fuck off,” she laughed, “Go get him.”

She didn’t need to hear anything else. Y/n took off running.

She sprinted through the stadium, weaving in and out of the crowd until she hit the authorized personnel area guarded by security.

“I’m with AFC Richmond,” Y/n breathed, exhausted by the effort expended. She reached into her wallet, “I have proof.”

She held up the employee ID and let the guard examine it.

“Go ahead,” the taller one slid to the side.

Y/n rushed through the glass doors. This was one of the only stadiums she hadn’t been to and she didn’t know her way. She peeked through every door until she found the physio room. Neither the medics nor Jamie were back yet.

Jamie hobbled down the hall, assisted by the physios that had aided him on the field. The adrenaline of the game was starting to wear off and he was looking forward to getting off his foot.

They opened the door to the back room to reveal the last person he expected to see.

Y/n spun around and their eyes met, fear suddenly taking hold of her. In her mad dash to the stadium, overcome with emotion, she hadn’t taken into consideration that Jamie may not have wanted to see her.

“Ma’am,” one of the medics spoke up, “You can’t be back here.”

Jamie was dazed, from the thrill of the match and Y/n’s presence. He took clumsy steps toward her, stuck in the magnetic pull they had on one another.

Y/n cautiously moved forward, terrified of what could come next. Jamie had every right to throw her out and never speak to her again. She almost wanted him to, to make her regret ever turning him away. Deserving seemed like too plain a word. She had earned his indifference.

But in the way Jamie’s eyes traced her face, warm and familiar, shocked and relieved, she knew that wasn’t the case.

They fell into each other’s arms without a single word.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered through her tears, “I’m so sorry.”

Jamie buried his face in her neck, unable to do any more than absorb her. She was here. She was here.

Y/n, however, had so much to say. She urgently guided his head up to face her, tears welling in both their eyes. In that moment, telling the truth never seemed simpler.

“I love you.”

Jamie’s mouth curled upwards, searching her face in shock.

“I love you so much,” Y/n confessed, holding his cheeks, “I’m so sorry for what I said.”

She was cut off by Jamie, pressing his lips fervently into hers.

Neither of them could clearly remember the kisses they’d shared during their one night together. They certainly couldn’t count them. But this, this held all the glory and promise of a first kiss. Months of tension and longing they didn’t know they’d felt were poured out, replaced by sweet relief.

With his brain hazy and high, Jamie backed them up towards the physio table. The first step he took on his ankle made him wince, but he didn’t break from their kiss.

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” Y/n pulled away, smiling breathlessly, “Ankle.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled as he chased after her lips.

Y/n giggled, letting him steal a few more sloppy kisses. She wasn’t in a place to deny him anything.

When Jamie did eventually pull back, he nudged his nose against Y/n’s, breathing her in. “You only back here ‘cause I won it for us?”

“You caught me,” Y/n ran a hand through the back of his hair, “I’d have slipped right back out if you hadn’t.”

Jamie grinned and stroked a hand over her head. Now that he had her as close as he’d craved, he wanted to touch as much as he could. He looked down between them and spotted the familiar blue and red.

“I swear, magic shit happens when you wear this thing,” Jamie rubbed the fabric between his fingers.

Y/n rested her forehead on Jamie’s shoulder, shaking with laughter.

“I’m a fucking genius for buying it,” he beamed, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hair. “I love you so much.”

Knuckles rapped against the door and someone cleared their throat. At some point, the medics had left and returned.

“Mr. Tartt,” one said, “We do need to check your ankle.”

Y/n removed herself from being pinned between the table and Jamie. Jamie dropped his hands to hold hers, unwilling to lose full contact as he took a seat. The physios had a difficult time working with Jamie’s constant movement, trying to pull Y/n in for kiss after kiss.

All things considered, Jamie got off lucky. A brace was wrapped around his ankle and he was advised to use crutches for the next few days. Jamie heard most of their instructions…well, some. He’d more distractedly spare the medics a glance before looking back to Y/n, who memorized all their warnings.

When they left once more, giving Jamie a minute to rest, he tugged Y/n between his legs and wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/n tucked herself into his chest, holding his head as it dug into the side of hers.

There was so much to say, so much to explain, but neither one could think straight enough for any of it. All they wanted to do was hold each other, reveling in the sweet relief of longing being exchanged for love.

—————————

Back at the hotel, Y/n packed both hers and Jamie’s room while he rested on the Coach. She’d handed his suitcase off to Will before heading to her own car, regretting her decision not to join the team bus considering how the trip was ending.

Jamie got Y/n on the phone the second they pulled out of the hotel. She’d insisted he ride back with the boys, but he was more insistent on not being apart for a second. They spent very little time talking as the phone got passed around, each of the Greyhounds wanting to speak to Y/n after so many weeks with no contact.

Keeley and Rebecca coveted the mobile the longest, badgering her for as many details as Y/n would give them on how her and Jamie had come to be. Y/n revealed precious little information, both because she was still retracing the sequence of events herself and because she didn’t feel like telling the entire team just yet.

Along the way, Kenneth the bus driver and Y/n were weaving between lanes together, switching spots in front on one another. The boys could be heard shouting for Kenneth to drive faster so they could beat her. Y/n smiled and laughed the whole way back to Richmond, lighter than she’d been in years.

They pulled into Nelson Road Stadium late, but full of energy. The Greyhounds poured out of the bus toting champagne bottles, singing and chanting as loud as they could. Man City was their great white whale, and they’d beaten them so spectacularly, they deserved a fucking celebration.

Y/n moved around the physio room while Jamie was in the locker room, setting up a bucket of ice water for his ankle, per the medic’s instructions. She headed down the hall to retrieve him after, running into the boys changed into their dress clothes.

“Looking good,” she complimented.

The stragglers cheered and hung back to hug Y/n, Isaac picking her up and spinning her around. Richard pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Hey,” Colin grew serious and pointed a finger towards her, “You owe us an explanation for where you’ve been.”

“Yeah, not cool,” Isaac agreed, setting her back down.

“I know, I know,” Y/n chuckled, “You’ll get one. But tonight,” she gestured to the door, “Go make a big fat mess of headlines for me to clean up.”

They cheered rowdily before heading out the door, leaving Y/n beaming. She was home.

She slipped into the locker room, Jamie was seated in his assigned spot, fidgeting. She knocked softly on the door.

“Come on, superstar,” she held out a hand.

Jamie smiled coyly, “Where you takin’ me?”

“I’m making sure Richmond has a fighting chance next weekend,” Y/n replies, helping him to his feet, “Can’t afford to lose you before you beat the shit out of West Ham.”

Jamie wrapped an arm around Y/n’s shoulders, much preferring to use her as his brace than the crutches. They took their time getting down the hall and into the physio room.

Y/n went about getting Jamie situated while he typed something into his phone. Once his foot was submerged in the ice, she stood to her full height and asked, “Whatcha doing?”

“Texting me dad,” he answered plainly.

Y/n blinked, “I’m sorry, what?”

Jamie clicked his phone shut and set it aside. They had a lot to catch up on. “When I was down, Coach came and talked to me. Told me that I should forgive me dad,” he quickly held up a hand to Y/n’s worried expression, “Not for him. For me. I’ve been in my head all week ‘cause I felt like I couldn’t be me without hatin’ him. Y’know? But between Coach and mum…I don’t know…I found it again. That thing that made me wanna play in the first place. Not for him, not for anyone…just me.”

Y/n smiled proudly. Jamie’s dad was the permanent thorn in his side. Rather than live with the pain, he was learning to grow around it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. It was also deeply ironic that Y/n had made a similar phone call to her parents hours ago. “Just something to tell you later.”

Jamie stroked a hand over her back, “How ‘bout you tell me what made you change your mind?”

Y/n slotted herself between Jamie’s thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck. The new intimacy stole any intention of ever having less than one hand on each other.

“Ted came by my room this morning,” she started, “We had a talk and I…I just realized that I wanted to be with you more than I wanted to stay scared of you.”

Jamie’s brows raised, “Scared of me?”

Y/n nodded and brushed a hand through his hair, “You and all those big feelings…they scare the shit out of me. But I got a taste of what life’s like without you,” she sighed, “And I can’t do it.”

Jamie’s fingers moved against Y/n’s back, he watched and listened intently.

“I raced through the fucking streets for you,” Y/n smiled, “I fought a security guard.”

Snorting at the mental image, Jamie slipped an arm under Y/n’s legs and lifted her onto his lap. She yelped and tightened her hold around him.

“We’re gonna break this table,” Y/n laughed, “And people are going to make assumptions.”

“Let ‘em,” Jamie smirked, eyes full of adoration, “Say it again.”

“I love you,” she whispered joyfully.

He wanted to hear it a million more times and he wanted to say it an equal amount. He captured her lips once more in a soft kiss, content to stay there as long as the world would let them.

The door to the med room squeaked open, “Oh, fuck.”

Jamie and Y/n broke apart, twisting to see Roy and Keeley stood in the doorway.

“You two were annoying before. You’re gonna be fucking unbearable now,” Roy complained.

“Oh, stop it,” Keeley lightly smacked his hand, “They’ve waited this long.”

“What’re you guys doing?” Jamie asked.

“We thought we’d come and keep you company,” Keeley answered.

Roy kicked the door shut and held up an unopened champagne bottle, “Fucking celebrate!”

Keeley squealed and ran over to hug Y/n and Jamie, the three of them embracing one another. “‘Cause that was fucking amazing, Jamie.”

“Yeah, I was fucking amazing,” Jamie agreed, “You’re right.”

Keeley cackled while Y/n dropped her head to Jamie’s shoulder. “Dear God, I don’t think I can handle this ego.”

“Gotten this far,” Roy grumbled, rolling his eyes at his protege.

“We might need to tag team it,” Y/n suggested, “What do you say, Royo?”

“No,” he pointed between Jamie and Y/n, “You signed up for this, he’s your fucking problem.”

Y/n looked down at Jamie, who was already grinning up at her. He’d been her problem for a long long time.

“I’ll make the best of it,” she said, pecking Jamie’s lips.

Roy popped the champagne and he and Keeley pulled up chairs. He offered his ex the bottle, “You start us off.”

“Mmm, don’t mind if I do,” she took a swig.

“Right,” Jamie turned to Roy, “What the fuck happened, man?”

The four of them laughed as the champagne was passed around.

“Did I look sexy?” Jamie asked, turning to Y/n and handing her the bottle, “Babe?”

“I take it all back,” Y/n joked and took a swig, “I’m not ready for this. We’re back to being friends.”

Jamie laughed and tugged her closer to him.

“Shame you weren’t injured in your fucking head, innit?” Roy grinned.

“Right,” Keeley spoke up, “You gonna tell us how this happened? Spare no details?”

Roy took the bottle from Y/n, “You can spare the details.”

Y/n scoffed, “Oh, there’ll be details spared.”

“She just doesn’t want people to know she stole my virtue,” Jamie cheekily smiled, “I get that right, babe?”

Keeley gasped, Roy grunted.

“I will fucking leave you here to freeze to death,” Y/n threatened, “If you ever tell people that’s what happened.”

The foursome stayed put for a good half hour, their raucous laughter bouncing off the walls. Y/n and Jamie explained an edited version of what happened in London to cause such tension at Georgie and Simon’s house. Keeley, surprisingly, didn’t seem to care that she was watching one of her best friends and her ex-boyfriend tell how they’d fallen in love. She was more thrilled than anyone. Roy was less than enthusiastic, but couldn’t hide his smile as he saw how happy Jamie seemed.

When it was time to leave, Roy helped Jamie in to Y/n’s car. He’d need someone to help him around the house for a day or two and there was no one else he wanted to take care of him. They made the twenty minute drive to Jamie’s house non-eventfully, Jamie pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hand at every red light they hit.

Y/n unloaded their bags first, dropping them in the hall, before coming back to help Jamie out of the car. They managed the driveway and the threshold just fine, and the second Y/n had locked the door behind them, Jamie was on her, crushing their lips and bodies together.

After so many months of falling without notice, neither realized just how much love they had for one another until they could express it fully. Like looking through some all-knowing kaleidoscope, everything leading up to that very moment made crystal clear sense. The jealousy, the adoration, the attachment…it had all been leading to this.

All of Jamie’s hard work, his effort to become his best self had mattered. This was the payoff.

Y/n’s long-standing walls crumbled with each touch, never to be rebuilt. Her fear melted at their feet.

They were free of their pasts, belonging only to their future.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader #keeley jones x reader #rebecca welton x reader #roy kent x reader #heartfirst

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pandorasprongs · 10 months

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JAMIE TARTT | it's nice to have a friend.

MASTERLIST:

i've already mapped out this story, so until further notice, this is the length of the whole fic! as i post the chapters, i'll gradually update the titles here :)

PROLOGUE - hold on to the memories. CHAPTER ONE - nothing good starts in a getaway car. CHAPTER TWO - you'll always know me. CHAPTER THREE - so inviting, i almost jump in. INTERLUDE - are we still friends? CHAPTER FOUR - come home to my heart. CHAPTER FIVE - this is what it feels like. CHAPTER SIX - it all makes sense when i'm with you. EPILOGUE - you and me, always and forever.

PLAYLIST:

some songs that helped me along while writing and the lyrics of some of them are actually where i got the title chapters from! i didn't put the songs in order, but you can try and tell what direction the story is going to go based on them (insert evil laugh)!

1. it's nice to have a friend by taylor swift 2. mess it up by gracie abrams 3. new year's day by taylor swift 4. dorothea by taylor swift 5. you & me by the wannadies 6. 1, 2 by mxmtoon 7. bite the hand by boygenius 8. still into you by paramore 9. feels like by gracie abrams 10. angels like you by miley cyrus 11. cardigan by taylor swift 12. daylight by taylor swift 13. are we still friends? by tyler, the creator 14. first time by lucy dacus 15. gold rush by taylor swift 16. true blue by boygenius 17. promise by laufey 18. two people by gracie abrams 19. bags by clairo 20. miss me by zeph 21. just because by sadie jean 22. two weeks ago by maisie peters 23. back to december by taylor swift 24. supercut by lorde 25. fool by frankie cosmos

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fic #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt angst #jamie tartt x f!reader #it's nice to have a friend series

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months

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Playing Pretend (Roy Kent x Reader)

Request: Hey, I was wondering if you'd do a Roy Kent x reader series (maybe) where she asks him to pretend they're boyfriend/girlfriend because her ex-boyfriend is marrying her somewhat younger sister. Kinda like The Wedding Date (if you've seen it). Ends up happily ever after?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10 (Final)

#request ❤️#roy kent playing pretend #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #roy kent fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic

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wlntrsldler · 3 months

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jamie tartt late night ramblings (jamie tarttt x reader)

based on this screenshot from tiktok:

it was roy who noticed it first. your name seemed to leave jamie’s lips often— too often, like he was just saying it just to say it. you would be brought back to every conversation, every hint and whisper of a recollection, your name rolled off jamie’s tongue constantly.

roy had an “over or under” bet with keeley the next day. he bet that your name would leave jamie’s lips at least 50 times; keeley who didn’t realize just how often jamie brought you up (she was just happy to see him happy, content) scoffed and said there was no way. she lost the bet. (jamie said your name 53 times that day)

sam noticed it after the pair. he sat next to jamie on the way to manchester and he forgot his headphones (rookie mistake) and found himself on the receiving end of jamie’s babbles about date night at his apartment. sam, who grew up watching the love of his wonderful parents, felt something familiar tugging in his chest. it was the same feeling that bloomed when he got older, when the sweet words and innocent kisses his parents shared in front of him were no longer repulsive to his teenage brain, but rather something fond, something soft.

he indulged jamie in the conversation and offered a table at ola’s for next thursday. jamie beamed at him (sam had never seen him smile like that, not even when they moved back to the premier league or finished second) and thanked him profusely because you had been talking about wanting to eat at ola’s again.

“there’s just no time,” you complained, offhandedly. “between my work and your training schedule and games, i feel like we don’t get to have a restaurant dinner anymore. i miss ola’s.”

jamie would change the way time worked if you asked him to.

jan mass was the next person to notice it. him being the blunt dutchman nonchalantly asked jamie why he talked about you so much. at first, jamie was taken aback by the question. does he talk about you that much? jan quickly followed up by saying he meant no offense by this (this, jamie knew. he’d known jan too long to take offense) and said he was genuinely curious.

what jamie wanted to say was, if anyone had grown up the way he did, with the father he had, with the constant pressure of living up to an impossible standard, with the struggle of having to decide to either be a great footballer or a great man (he will be the first to admit, he chose wrong the first time, but he learned from you that he should give himself some grace. nobody is perfect in their early twenties, after all) anyone would probably talk about you as much as he did.

to jamie, you made his life so much better. sprinkles of beauty here and there from your whispers of “good mornings” when you rolled over to kiss him when you woke up in his bed; or when you would pitch the tone of your voice up to coo at a puppy walking down the street; or when you would drop coins in the tip jars at cafes while you mindlessly chatted with the baristas.

everywhere you went, there were marks of you that lingered there; in the smile of a stranger you complimented, the giggles of a child when you lean down to fix the bow in their hair; the scent of your perfume that stayed when you hugged a friend you hadn’t seen in a while. those little things made the world that much better.

jamie felt he was being selfish keeping you to himself, absorbing your love so much that sometimes he felt guilty that the rest of the world was deprived of it; so in his own way, whenever he spoke your name into conversations, into interactions, into the ether, he believed he was doing the world a favor, giving them a glimpse of the beauty that you added to the world.

but he thought that this was too much to say to jan mass in the middle of the locker room. so jamie simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “i dunno. i didn’t even realize i do it.”

#rambling because i cant sleep #rambles #jamie tartt #jamie tartt oneshot #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt x yn #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #frances writes

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midnightfictionlibrary · 10 months

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You're the One - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

You’re the One - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Content : best friends to lovers, angst, fluff

Word Count : 1.3k

Summary : Two Times Jamie Tartt realized you were the one, and the one time he did something about it.

A/N : A stand alone fic while I work on the next chapter of the Jamie/Roy/Reader love triangle fic. This idea popped into my head after listening to You’re the One by the Black Keys. As always, please like and reblog if you enjoy! <333

1. After the Broken Engagement

The rain pattered softly against the windows, and Jamie sat contentedly on his couch, the blue glow from the television playing over that week’s best football highlights. It was an uneventful week it seemed, but he still insisted on catching up. Just as he’s about to switch the channel, he hears a knock at the door.

Brows furrowed, he stands up and pulls his hoodie sleeves down over his hands. God knows his hands were always cold. When he opens the door, he’s greeted by you. Well, a soaking wet, sobbing, you.

“Fuck, babe, what’s wrong?” He says, immediately concerned, his heart wrenching for you. He doesn’t care that you were soaking wet, he gathers you in his arms as the most heartbreaking cries leave your lips. He didn’t even care that he accidentally called you babe.

“L-Leo…h-he-” you gasp, “in our bed.” You cry, wrenching the ring off of your left hand violently and dropping it on Jamie’s front porch. Suddenly, the puzzle pieces fall into place for Jamie, and he takes your face in his hands and forces you to look at him.

“Listen t’me. You…” He pauses, trying to find the right words. You stare at him, comforted immensely by his presence already. His warmth radiates into your own body, making you feel safe. That was how Jamie made you feel, and he knew it, too. “You deserve better than that prick, yeah? Too fuckin’ pretty and smart and kind to be crying over a prick like that.” He says, pulling you in to hold you. And you let him.

The feeling of you against his body, calming already from his presence made Jamie realize you were the one he adored. He didn’t need anybody else. Even if you were engaged to someone that wasn’t him, he was always going to be there for you. Just like he was now. And he didn’t think anything could change that.

Later, he lets you sleep in his bed, promising to go with you to your flat the next day to grab your belongings while that prick Leo was at work. He’s about to leave when your slender hand reaches out to intertwine your fingers together. “Please stay.” You whisper, and Jamie’s heart skips a beat, lying next to you. You rest your head on his chest, still sniffling slightly.

As he kisses the top of your head affectionately, he knows he’s done for. You had burrowed your way into his affections from the moment he met you, three years ago.

2.After The First Match Using Total Football

Jamie was out with the team, the owners, and quite a few friends at Sam’s restaurant as a celebration for their victory that afternoon. But, he still hadn’t seen you. As the team’s social media manager, he knew you were probably editing posts and queuing them up for the next day, but he still wished you were there.

Roy pretended not to notice how Jamie kept glancing around for you.

Keeley pretended she had no idea where you were.

In reality, you were just running a bit behind, but you wanted Jamie to be surprised when he realized you, his best friend, were wearing his number. He had mentioned to you that no one close ever came to his matches sporting his kit, and you had decided to change that.

When you walk into Ola’s, you catch Sam’s eye and wave profusely, running up to hug him, giving him a few pecks on the cheek. “Sam!” You pause. “Oh my gosh, this place is amazing.”

Before Sam can answer you, you feel a tap on the shoulder. You turn around, seeing a flustered and blushing Jamie.

“Wh..what are ya wearin’?” He asks, seeming to choke on his words slightly, and you grin at him brightly, pleased at how surprised and touched he seemed.

“Oh this? Just the number of my favorite Richmond player.” You say, nonchalantly, giggling at the way Jamie’s cheeks tinge pink for a moment.

Jamie doesn’t respond for a moment, instead wrapping his arms around your waist and crushing you into a hug. “Thank you.” He whispers, and when he pulls back you smile tenderly at him, pushing a few strands of hair from his forehead.

“Nothing to it, Tartt. You’ll always be my favorite.” You wink, looping your arm through his. “Now, can a tired social media manager get a drink around here?”

He chuckles, leading you to the bar, and while he watches you order, he can’t help but just stare at you. Roy pretends not to notice again, and Jamie is thankful. He thought it was more than obvious that he adored you, but it didn’t seem like you were picking up on that. He takes a sip of his beer, looking away from you when you turn your attention back to him.

“I’m really proud of you, Jamie.” You say, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Nah, you ain’t got nothin’ to praise me for. Just playin’ the game like always.” God, he thought if his face got any more heated he’d have to excuse himself for some air. You tsk, poking his side before moving to speak to Keeley and Rebecca. The number 9 on your back burned itself into Jamie’s mind, and he swore that day he fell even more in love. If that was possible.

3.After Amsterdam

It was late, and you flipped a page of your book, putting your cat-themed bookmark in when you realized you’ve reached the end of the chapter. Setting the book down on your coffee table, you move to the kitchen to start preparing your favorite nighttime tea. Your orange cat, Gizmo, purrs loudly at your feet, and you stoop down to give him a few scratches behind his ears.

You’re just finishing preparing your tea, stirring your tiny teaspoon in your mug when you hear a series of frantic knocks at the door. You leave the spoon in your mug, taking a glance through the peephole before you open the door.

“Jamie?” You ask, “Did you just get back from Amsterdam?”

“I saw a windmill.” He says, breathlessly, like he had run to your flat.

“What?”

“I- sorry. S’not the point. Realized I had t’come and tell you that I fuckin’ adore ya, yeah? I can’t take it anymore. I’m losing me mind thinkin’ about ya all the time. ‘M in love with you.”

You stand there, utterly speechless. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Here he was, Jamie Tartt, your best friend, admitting that he thought about you all the time.

Jamie steps into your flat, taking your hand. “Please say somethin’.”

“I..I love you, too.” You whisper.

“Yeah?” He asks, almost as if he can’t believe it.

“Ever since you took care of me that night I threw my ring down on your front porch.”

Jamie can’t take it anymore, he cradles your face and kisses you passionately. “Want” he says “to give you a ring of my own” through small sweet kisses to your lips.

Your mug of tea sits forgotten as you pull Jamie close, stumbling clumsily into your bedroom. You both collapse on your bed, him on top of you. “You’re the one, Jamie.” You whisper, and he grins at you before capturing you in a kiss that has your head reeling.

Gizmo meows lightly, curling up on the couch as it starts to rain, his owner relishing in a love with his other favorite human.

The two of you stay in bed until late the next morning, unable to get enough of each other.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt #best friends to lovers #ted lasso fanfic #longing #jamie tartt fanfiction #friends to lovers #pining

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illiterateaffairs · 1 year

Text

DISTRACTIONS PROLOGUE | THE EXIT

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

rating: T (language)

word count: 4,806

summary: after breaking up with your long time boyfriend, you realize how much of your life was tied to his. if only you knew someone with a cool job and even cooler boss across the pond who could help you out.

A/N: hello! here is the first official part of my jamie tartt series. although i should warn you that jamie is not in this part :( this was mainly to cover the back story in order to get the reader to london. but i promise he will be in the next part. please please please let me know what you think! would love any comments and feedback <3

distractions masterlist

“I think that’s everything.”

You’re shaken from your trance by the sound of his voice for the first time in 30 minutes. You’ve been pretending to watch an old episode of Grey’s Anatomy but really you’ve been staring at the wall just above the TV, wondering how you got to this point.

This point being you sitting idly by as your ex-boyfriend gathers the last of his things from your once shared apartment. Normally you’d make yourself scarce when he’d come by to move things out but he popped over unexpectedly after work for a few last things he’d left behind. You’re wondering if he did that on purpose to torture you for a little while longer.

But why would he do that? He was nice enough to let you keep the apartment. Only after you found him tangled up with some red-headed woman on top of your couch when you’d come home during your lunch break a few weeks prior. You graciously accepted keeping the apartment - but you insisted he take that godforsaken couch.

Picking at the worn fabric of your lone arm chair, you don’t meet his eyes. “Okay, great.”

“So, I guess this is it then,” he sighs, looking around the apartment almost wistfully, “The end of an era.”

You look up at him with narrowed eyes. He was making your almost three year relationship that he imploded sound like something casual. Like he didn’t completely break your heart and prove those years a waste.

“Yup.” You shake your head and force yourself up from your seat, walking to the front door so he’ll hopefully get the hint to make his way out of your apartment and out of your life once and for all. You open the door as he meanders over, as slow as humanly possible.

Once he’s in front of you, he lingers in the doorway. You wish you were stronger than you were, but you’re not, his gaze forcing you to look down at the hardwood beneath your feet. He rests his hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch. “It was really great seeing you. I hope…I hope one day we can be friends again.”

You fight the urge to projectile vomit on him and plaster the fakest smile you can muster. “Goodbye, Mason.”

You can tell he’s about to say something else but you’re already slamming the door in his face. You think being free from his presence will immediately restore your sanity, but your stomach feels even queasier. It must be reality sinking in. You guess Mason was right - it was the end of an era. You had no idea what the hell you were supposed to do now.

You’ve been living in Chicago ever since you graduated college at Brown University. That’s where you’d met Mason. He’d fallen first and once he’d convinced you to go out with him at the start of your senior year, you’d fallen harder. He was a computer science major, while you were studying creative writing, with hopes of becoming an author one day. Your plan was to work at a publishing house or literary agency in New York city while you wrote anything and everything on the side. But after graduation, Mason had an offer at an emerging tech company in Chicago that he couldn’t pass up. So he begged you to follow him there; said you could write from anywhere. He even knew someone at a marketing agency in the city that could get you a job as a copywriter. You’d explained that was a little different than the writing you hoped to pursue, but he told you it would be temporary- just something to help pay the bills while you got settled.

He was persuasive. Very persuasive. And next thing you knew, the two of you were shacking up in a studio apartment in downtown Chicago, with a view of the river and a short commute to work where you wrote copy for cereal brands and clothing companies. Not exactly the dream, but somewhere along the way you found comfort in the idea that he was your dream. He’d swept you off your feet with words of affirmation and lavish gifts as his company started growing more successful. But after a year and a half, the novelty started wearing off. You realized all of your friends were his friends, you shopped where he shopped, you lived and worked where he wanted you to, and you had so little sense of self. You only came to this conclusion when on a rare night out with coworkers, they’d asked you where you went to school.

“I got a bachelors in creative writing from Brown.”

“Then what the hell are you doing at a marketing agency?” Kara, a bubbly advertising strategist you could only hope to be as confident as, had inquired.

You shrugged, “Just something to pay the bills so I can write on the side.”

Her eyes widened excitedly, “Ooh, what’s something you’ve written recently?”

You had opened your mouth to answer before realizing you hadn’t written anything in a while. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you wrote something that wasn’t an Instagram caption for Cheerios.

When you got home that night, you brought that up to Mason, but he didn’t think it was a big deal. He’d only shrugged and said that you made an honest living doing what you did now. Why did it matter that it wasn’t what you’d originally set out to do?

You’d only nodded and let the topic go for the night. But the more you thought about it, the more the whole thing bothered you. You liked your job. But you didn’t love your job.

Still, you didn’t do anything about it. You went through the motions of your job and your relationship, spending time with Mason at his work events and with his tech buddies and their significant others. But as more time went on, you only felt more and more lost. You tried not to let it get to you. You were young. You had plenty of time to figure things out: who you were, who you wanted to spend time with, what you wanted to do. You were at least still sure that you loved him, though.

You only started to question that a few months before your untimely breakup. You’d finally gotten the courage to consider a career change. You’d been thinking about leaving the marketing agency to look for a literary job- a publishing house, or even a book store- anywhere they would take you. When you brought the idea up over dinner with Mason, he’d scoffed. Why would you want to leave your well paying job for one that could potentially be minimum wage? He’d asked why you couldn’t just write after work or during the weekends while you kept making a salary at your current job. You tried explaining it was because you weren’t happy there - that it sucked the life out of you and you wanted to work somewhere that inspired you everyday. But he just rolled his eyes and told you to try giving your job another chance; that maybe a vacation would clear your head and reinspire you.

You looked at him differently after that - like he was a different person. Now you’re able to see it was a wakeup call to who he’d always been, but at the time you were in denial. Instead of facing the issues popping up in your relationship head on, you’d push them away or avoid them. You’d started spending more time at your office or with the few coworkers you started considering friends. On some evenings, you’d even manage to write a few paragraphs of fiction- they were nothing of substance, but they were something.

This went on for a few months. Long enough that you’d successfully convinced yourself that everything was normal even if your once all-consuming relationship was hanging by a thread. Until one day you came home to grab the lunch you’d forgotten during the workday to find Mason kissing someone else. He’d somehow managed to twist the blame on you during the argument that broke out once the woman had left the two of you alone. He said it was because he’d felt you pulling away and that he was lonely. And for a moment, you felt yourself believing that you were in fact the bad guy for not being honest with how you were feeling. You shook those intrusive thoughts away, refusing to let him manipulate you one last time before declaring that you two were done.

That was weeks ago now, and while you were still confident in the decision to part ways, you were less confident on what you were to do now. Your lease was up at the end of the month, and if you wanted to stay you’d need to find someone to split rent with. Your odds of that were slim. A) you’d have to wrangle someone in the next two weeks and B) Everyone you knew was either Mason’s friend first or Kara who had just moved in with her longtime girlfriend. And God help you if you were going to live with a stranger.

And then there was the whole job thing. You still weren’t thrilled with working there despite you holding out for Mason’s sake. He was no longer around to guilt trip you into staying, but now you had no idea where to go, especially without a sure place to live.

You’re beginning to spiral as these thoughts race through your mind. You can barely even decide what to eat for dinner let alone what to do with the rest of your life. On that note, you force yourself to throw a frozen pizza in the oven and push all thoughts of impending doom to the side as you sink back into the world of Seattle Grace Memorial. The lives and problems of Meredith Grey and her fellow doctors were decidedly less stressful than what you were dealing with. And that was saying something.

You’ve nearly fully disassociated from everything, when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You’re perturbed when it doesn’t stop after one vibration, anxious at the thought of answering a call right now. But all anxiety melts away when you see the mustachioed face on the caller ID smiling back at you. You smash the green answer button faster than you’ve done in your entire life.

“Uncle Ted,” you breathe out in relief.

“Hey-o Kiddo,” the warm voice of Ted Lasso instantly soothes you, “Have I told you how much I appreciate you still calling me that?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you smile even though he can’t see you, “But you know I’ve never considered stopping.”

Ted was your uncle, by ways of marrying your biological aunt Michelle. Her brother, Joseph, and his husband, Ryan, adopted you when you were five. Dad and Pops, as you affectionately called them. As soon as Ted Lasso entered your life, he was like a third father. When he went off to England to coach a soccer- football- team and eventually separated from Michelle, you were devastated. You had no idea they were having problems. You could blame it on the fact that you’d scarcely seen your family since living in Chicago with Mason, and that he’d commandeered holidays and vacation time to spend with his family and friends. But you knew you could have worked harder to be a part of their lives. Especially now that Henry was growing up so quickly - or so you’d seen on social media.

Even then, you reached out to make sure he knew he was still your favorite uncle. “I was your only uncle, Kiddo.” “And you still are.”

He doesn’t think you understand the weight that that sentiment held. And now, you know he doesn’t realize how pertinent it is that he’s reached out to you tonight.

“What time is it there?” you ask, “Isn’t it like midnight? You should be asleep, big important Premier League coach that you are. Did I get that right?”

You hear him chuckle, “I’m impressed. Wasn’t sure you’d watch much of football over there.”

“Of course! I have to support your team. Besides, Mason was obsessed with anything that has a ball involved so you know he was all over it.” That last part came out before you could even process what you were saying. You know Ted can hear the hitch in your breath when your brain catches up with your mouth.

“That’s actually why I called, Kiddo,” Ted says softly, “Joe told me about your breakup.”

Despite yourself, you feel your lips quirk up in almost a smile, “I didn’t know you two still spoke.”

“Yeah, sure. We chat on Facebook from time to time. Give each other a like, a share. A poke? Do people still poke nowadays?”

“I think HR told Mark Zuckerberg to eliminate that feature.”

“Makes sense,” he snorts, “Can I take the fact that you’ve still got your signature sense of humor as a sign that you’re handling everything okay?”

You feel the urge to say that you’re fine - that everything is great. But for some reason the idea of lying to Ted makes you feel even worse. Before you can stop it, you feel tears start to pool behind your eyes. In an effort to try to prevent yourself from full on crying, you end up just producing the most heinous, choked up sound. You manage a scratchy, whispered, “No I’m not.” before you start sobbing into the phone.

You’re surprised when Ted doesn’t immediately start trying to cheer you up with jokes or something positive to focus on in effort to stop your crying. Instead, he lets you get everything out, all the while reminding you that it's okay to be upset.

“But God, it's so pathetic. I shouldn’t be this upset, he’s just a stupid guy!”

“It's not just a guy; you built a life with him. It’s a lot to mourn.” he says reassuringly.

“But it's not even a good life! I hate my job and I have to find a new apartment and I don’t have any friends to vent to. I don’t know what I’m doing!” you know your words must hardly sound coherent but Ted seems to get it.

“Michelle mentioned she’d heard you were considering making the jump back to writing? Do you still want to do that?”

“Yes, ideally, but I don’t know if I'd be able to immediately get a job and certainly not one that would afford me my rent. And I have a good paying job now but I honestly think if I stay there much longer I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”

You don’t mean to put all of this on him, but in a way it's cathartic. You hadn’t said most of this out loud to anyone.

“I just wish I could run away to the countryside, turn my brain off for a few months and not have any responsibilities while I figure things out.” You huff out as your sobs begin to slow.

Ted hums softly, “Now wouldn’t that be something. Where would you go?”

As your breathing finds its way back to normal, you consider. After a beat, “Iceland.”

Ted can’t help but snort, “I hear it's lovely there this time of year.”

You laugh a little but resign yourself back to the situation at hand, “What do I do, Ted?”

“I don’t know, Kiddo. But I know you’re going to be okay. You always are. You were okay in 8th grade when that volleyball smacked you right in the face and you cut your lip, and you’ll be okay now." He's proud when he hears you laugh again, “Maybe you should take some time to yourself. Play hooky tomorrow and sleep in.”

“I can’t just not go to work,” you sigh, “I’ll have to fake being sick and forge a doctor's note.”

“That-a-girl.”

“But seriously thank you, Uncle Ted. I think I really needed to get that out. And you’re always a great listener.”

“You know you can call me anytime.”

“Preferably not when it's nearly 1AM over there though right?”

“Yeah, I guess I should be getting some rest myself. Sleep tight, Kiddo.”

“Good night, Ted.”

Despite the sob fest you just went through, you feel yourself smiling after hanging up. It was usually hard not to be in a better mood after talking to Ted Lasso. And you know what? You were going to play hooky tomorrow. What were they going to do? Fire you? You wish.

Across the pond, Ted spent the better part of the rest of his night and next morning thinking about how you wished you could escape life for a little bit to figure things out. This leads him to begin plotting an idea that may or not work out, or even make sense. Nevertheless, he’s walking into Rebecca’s office with a plan in place.

“Afternoon, Boss,” he greets her as he sets the pale pink biscuit box on her desk in front of her, which she eagerly opens, “Hope those biscuits taste especially good today. I made them extra special.”

Rebecca raises an eyebrow, already halfway through one biscuit. “Should I ask why?”

“Just figure the better the biscuits, the happier the boss, isn’t that the saying?” Before Rebecca can chastise him further for his suspicious attitude, he’s barreling on, “Say, you haven’t found someone to be Keeley’s replacement yet, have you? Not as another PR person; I know Keeley’s company has that covered. But as another set of hands around here, or fingers rather, to post tweets or Instagrams? Or even just to assist you with whatever you’ve got going on around the office?”

Rebecca sighs, resigning to the fact that he’s going to need to finish his thought and tire himself out. Once he seems to reach a natural stopping point, she inserts herself.

“Ted,” his eyebrows raise innocently, “Let me guess, you have someone in mind?”

“Yes,” he nods point-blankly.

“And who might that be?”

“My niece,” before Rebecca can even open her mouth, he continues, “I know, I know you can’t hire just anyone, but she’s incredible. She’s a hard worker, she’s super nice, and she’s also going through some stuff right now and I think a fresh start would be good for her.”

Rebecca takes the information in, but isn’t immediately opposed. “And she wants to move halfway across the world to work for a football club?”

Ted sits up, taking her interest as a good sign. “That’s a great question, let's ask her!”

Before Rebecca could even process what he meant by that, Ted is whipping out his iPhone and facetiming you.

“Ted, you haven’t even asked her if she wants the job?” she whispers sternly.

“Uh- uh,” he shakes his head before your face pops up on his screen, “Good morning, Kiddo! Shoot, did I wake you? I forgot about the time difference.”

You’re attempting to sit up in your bed all the while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, “Nope, all good, it’s almost 8 here, but you’re the one who told me to skip out on work today and sleep in.”

“That’s true, I did tell you to do that,” Ted glances up from his phone to lock eyes with Rebecca, “So that’s on me and in no way should reflect her work ethic.” He holds up his right hand and Rebecca chuckles, shaking her head.

Your eyes narrow, “Uncle Ted, what's going on?”

“Well, I was just sitting with my boss Rebecca over here when we realized Rebecca has been in the market for a new assistant-slash-social media person and I thought of you!”

You blink at him for a few seconds and then, “What?”

“Yeah, I mean, I was thinking about what you said last night about wanting some time to figure things out. With this, you can quit that job you hate, try something new and have time to write. And while England might not be Iceland, I’d say it still offers a pretty great change of scenery.”

You bite your thumb and find yourself surprised that you’re actually considering this - as crazy and out of the blue as it is. It's appealing. A new town, country- no, continent. An opportunity to leave your dead end job while also still making a livable wage. Time to clear your head and potentially fall back in love with writing. And most importantly, never having to see Mason’s face again.

“This is serious?” you ask, “Is there actually a job opening there or are you just making your boss do this for me.”

“Of course! I wouldn’t make this up and Rebecca is a very serious person.”

“Wouldn’t I have to interview?”

Ted looks up again at Rebecca who looks just as caught off guard. “Of course you’d interview. In fact you can do it right now, over Facetime. Isn’t technology incredible?”

You can hear Rebecca whispering protests, as you call out your own hesitancy, but before you know it, Ted’s face is being replaced by an overwhelmingly gorgeous blonde woman’s. Ted makes introductions, and while you can tell Rebecca isn’t in this situation willingly, she smiles kindly which manages to relax you a bit.

“It's nice to meet you, Ms. Welton. I’m such a fan of yours.” you tell her kindly.

She blushes, “That's sweet of you to say, but please call me Rebecca. Ted’s told me great things about you as well.”

You smile back, before narrowing your eyes at Ted, who is peaking at the phone over Rebecca’s shoulder. “Does Ted have to be here for this?”

Rebecca turns to face the football manager, and nods toward her office door. “Mind giving us the room?”

Ted straightens up, “Of course. I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He starts towards the door before shouting back, “I believe in you.”

“I know you do,” You call back, shaking your head humorously.

Rebecca mirrors your expression, “It's fun to see someone else dealing with his antics.”

You give her an apologetic look, “I’m sorry if he put you up to this, you really don’t have to give me a job. I don’t know what he’s told you but I promise I can cope.”

The blonde woman can’t help being curious as to what you mean by that, but she doesn’t pry. “The only thing he’s told me is what an exceptional worker and person you are. I can’t imagine you’d be anything but an asset to the club.

“Still, you can’t just hand me the job.”

“Why not?” Rebecca smirks, “Men give other men jobs all the time.”

You snort, “Sure, but I like earning my place.”

Rebecca admires this, “Fair enough. Alright then, why don’t you tell me where you went to school?”

“Brown University.”

“And what did you study?”

“Creative writing.”

“Oh, so why would you want to work here?”

You sigh, but can’t help being amused by her confusion, “Well, right now I’m a copywriter at a marketing agency.”

“You got a degree in creative writing to write advertisements?”

“Well no. I wanted- want to be an author someday, but needed something to get me by while I actually started writing. My boyfriend, sorry, ex-boyfriend, suggested the job when we moved to Chicago together.”

Rebecca hums at your fumble, “Am I right to guess that this ex of yours might have a little to do with this big life change?”

You take a deep breath, “Yes, and no. Sure, I’d love to not live in a city where I could run into him. But I also want a change for myself, so I can figure out who I am without him and what I actually want out of life.”

Rebecca smiles, almost proudly, “That’s great.”

You let out a laugh, “And all it took was him cheating on me to finally get out of my own head.”

Rebecca’s eyes widen, “He cheated on you?”

“Oh shit,” you groan, rubbing your forehead, “I haven’t had my morning coffee and don’t know how to censor myself yet.”

“What a wanker!”

“I am inclined to agree with you, even though I do not know what that means,” you sigh, pausing for a second, “Rebecca I know we just met but can you…not tell Ted that? I actually haven’t told anyone why we broke up. I really don’t want an extra layer of pity.”

The older woman nods, “Of course. I won’t say a word.”

Despite having only spoken upwards of three minutes, you feel like you can trust her with your life. “Thank you. Do you have any more questions for me?”

“Yes,” Rebecca nods, “When can you start?”

Your eyes turn into saucers, “Rebecca, I told you I want to earn this job!”

“Well in my eyes you have,” she insists, “I know that you’re a good worker and literate, that's important. You’ve got a sense of humor; that’ll get you far with everyone. And I like that you’re taking charge of your life. It feels like you’ll be a good fit here.” That brings a smile to your face. A good fit. You wonder what that feels like. “Besides, you’re related to Ted. If that doesn't tell me what kind of person you are, I don’t know what does.”

You snort, “Technically, Ted and I aren’t blood related.”

Rebecca shrugs, “Either way, you’ve got that Lasso spirit.”

While the compliment warms your heart, it also brings another pool of anxiety into the pit of your stomach. “Rebecca, I have another request before I can accept this job, but it’s for Ted, too.”

Rebecca nods curtly, before calling out a loud, “Teeeeed.” that makes you jump slightly.

Ted pokes his head back in the doorway, “How's it going?” he sing-songs.

“Your niece has a demand before she will take the job.” She winks at you, which alleviates only some of the nerves.

Ted jogs back to his spot behind Rebecca and leans closer to his phone screen, “What's up, buttercup?”

You take a deep breath, “If I were to come there,” Ted’s eyes light up, “If,” You emphasize, “I need you both- and Beard I guess-”

“Oh, Beard’s gonna be so excited.”

“I need you three to promise me,” you say flatly, “That you won’t tell anyone that I’m Ted’s niece.”

Ted frowns, “Why not? I know it's hard to believe, but I'm actually one of the popular kids around here.”

You roll your eyes in jest, “It's not because I'm embarrassed, I just…don’t want anyone to think I only got the job because of you.”

Rebecca gives you a look, “I told you you’ve already proven you deserve this job.”

“I know, but nepotism is one of the most cancelable offenses these days,” You argue, “And Rebecca, you get it. In a club full of men, I don’t want to be known as the girl who got a job because I’m related to the coach. Despite what you said about men doing the same thing, you know they look down at women for that.”

“She’s not wrong,” Rebecca says, glancing over at Ted, “But if it helps, none of our boys on the team would treat you like that.”

You shrug, “Either way, I’d just prefer to show up, work hard, and prove my place.”

A smile starts growing back on Ted’s face, “So are you saying you’ll do it?”

You bite your lip but can’t help but start smiling yourself, “I think so?”

Ted claps and starts doing a celebratory dance. And while you and Rebecca can’t help but laugh, she still demands a formal acceptance. “I’m going to need a more confident answer.”

You smother the smile and put on a business-formal face, “I graciously accept your offer.”

You two share a smile and you’re already looking forward to spending more time with the woman. Ted grabs the phone from his boss and starts cheering you on, “Heck yes, now you get to put in that 2-weeks notice, baby!”

You quietly cheer along with him, trying to process Rebecca’s words at the same time as she lets you know she’ll email you your contract and begin getting you set up with a visa and housing. “Wait, I get free housing?” You don’t let yourself linger on the absurdity of the situation. For the first time in probably your whole life, you are doing something you want to do. Nevermind that it's a huge leap and maybe not what you foresaw for yourself in this next era of your life. It was the perfect opportunity to get to know yourself again and you could figure out everything else later.

In the wise words of Joey Tribbiani: London, baby!

A/N: Please let me know what you think <3

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #distractions series #mine

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