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#jamie tartt fanfiction
its-time-to-write · 11 months
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hi! Could you please write something with like reader opening the door one day when Roy stars knocking for training but reader and Jamie aren’t open about their relationship yet? I think it would be cute xx
I also thought this was cute. Not sure if anyone notices/cares, but all my titles are song lyrics based ever so loosely on the vibe I am trying to convey. Thanks for another great request!
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what it is
Someone’s aggressively knocking on the door and as you roll over to check the time. It’s 4am, and you poke Jamie who is fast asleep beside you.
“Babe,” you whisper, “someone’s at the door.”
Jamie groans and mumbles something incoherent. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell something’s off. You reach out your hand and feel his forehead. It’s burning up.
The knocking continues and Jamie lets out another groan and says something that sounds like raining? Oh. Training. You remember he trains every morning at 4, but you’ve never seen who he goes with. He just kisses you in your sleep and is back right as you wake up for the day. 
You roll out of bed, grab one his sweatshirts from the floor, and pad downstairs to the door.
You swing open the door mid-knock. The man on the other side lowers his fist, looks at you all squinty for a moment, then says, “Who the fuck’re you?”
You return the look. “I live here. Who the fuck are you?”
The man scoffs. “No, you fucking don’t. This is Jamie Tartt’s house. Jesus fucking Christ, is he fucking blowing off training because of a fucking one-night stand?”
Oh. You know who this is. This is Roy Kent. You didn’t know he was the one training Jamie, but you guess it makes sense based on how much Jamie talks about him. It’s Roy Kent this, and Roy Kent that, and Roy says I need to eat more protein, and Roy said my hair looked funny today, does it look funny to you? 
You sigh. You and Jamie have been together for three months, and you basically live at his house. You’re really only at your flat to change clothes. You have a toothbrush, pajamas, and half a wardrobe at Jamie’s. Your books have started to make their way onto his shelves too, as you read them and then leave them for him to start. That was a little bit of an accident at first, after you left This Side of Paradise one night and came back to a different bookmark on page 34.
Anyway, Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re dating Jamie, or that anyone is. You suppose in his mind, Jamie is happily single, fucking around like the twenty-something year old footballer he is. 
Roy is still looking at you expectantly, so say, “I do live here. Why don’t you come in?” and hold open the door a bit wider. 
Roy’s face says fuck it, and he follows you inside to the kitchen. 
“Can I get you some tea?” you ask quietly, although Jamie can sleep through anything. 
Roy seems surprised by the question, but says, “Yeah, sure,” as he stands by the kitchen island.
“Jamie’s sick,” you say. “He’s still asleep upstairs. I doubt he’ll be up for training today.”
“Right, yeah,” says Roy, “I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you? Jamie’s not fucking supposed to be doing the whole one-night stand thing, he told me it’s too fucking distracting from training.”
You chuckle. “That’s comedy gold right there. Yeah, no, I’m not a one-night stand. I’m his girlfriend.”
Roy’s impressive eyebrows lift in shock, and you laugh again and give him your name. “Didn’t know I existed, did you? I’m not one for crowds or a big fuss. I told Jamie if we made it four months than he could start telling people. He was a little upset, but,” you shrug, “no point in making it a big deal if we just break up, right?”
You can practically see the wheels turning in Roy’s brain as he does the math.
“So you’re telling me that you’ve been fucking dating this little prick for three fucking months, and he hasn’t fucking said anything?”
You nod. 
“Fuckkk,” Roy whispers, “that makes so much fucking sense.”
You quirk an eyebrow at him.
“He’s been less of a prick recently,” Roy explains, “More considerate, been carrying around fucking books and shit. Not fucking flirting with everything that fucking moves. Thought maybe he was just taking beating Zava too fucking seriously.”
You nod and move to pour the tea. You and Roy both turn as you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. It’s Jamie, who is wearing a headlamp, pajama shirt, athletic vest, and a single sock. And, thank God, pants.
“Ready for training coach,” he says with a salute, but the action almost makes him fall over. He looks all pale and sweaty, with bags under his eyes.
“Told you he was sick,” you say.
“Fuckin’ hell,” is all Roy can come up with.
Jamie seems to notice you for the first time and breaks out into a smile. “Roy! Look! I have a girlfriend,” he says, words a little slurred while pointing to you.
It’s punctuated by a “Jesus Christ,” from Roy as Jamie wobbles, unsteady on his feet from his fever.
“Alright, mister,” you say. “Back to bed.”
Jamie frowns. “Always so mean,” he says. He does an imitation of your voice, “No Jamie, you can’t tell Roy about us. Yes Jamie, I know Roy’s your best friend. No Jamie, I don’t think you love Roy more than me.” He looks at Roy as you sling his arm around your shoulders, supporting him at his waist. He puts his fingertips on your lips as he says, “See what I have to put up with?”
You roll your eyes and suppress a smile as Roy says, “What you have to put up with?”
Jamie is so loopy right now. He lays his head on yours and smiles again. “Look at this. Me two favorite people, finally meeting. You should stay for dinner, coach.”
Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh as you both mutually decide not to point out that it is now 4:30am and dinner is a long, long way away.
“Let’s go get you out of those clothes and into bed,” you say as you start to lead him back to your room. 
Jamie casts a look back at Roy and wiggles his eyebrows. “Babe, you can’t just say things like that in front of granddad. Might give him a heart attack. Old people are such prudes.”
“Go to sleep, Tartt,” Roy says. He looks at you and says softly, “I can see myself out.”
You smile and wave with your free hand. “It was nice to meet you,” you say. “Hopefully we can meet again under more normal circumstances.”
Roy nods once and does what you think is a smile? He turns and heads out the door as you maneuver Jamie upstairs. Jamie Tartt has a girlfriend. And a good one at that. What is the world coming to?
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benedictscanvas · 11 months
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saved you a seat - jamie tartt x reader
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pairing: jamie tartt x reader
word count: 3.1k of pure fluff
a/n: no warnings for this one except language, obviously. i just wanted to imagine having a fluffy little coach trip with jamie tartt so i hope there are others out there who want to imagine the same. requests are SO open for jamie/roy/sam/ted please do send some ideas <3
---
You weren’t quite sure how you’d managed to engineer this situation, but you were worried that if you thought about it too hard, you might end up losing it. Somehow, on a coach to Amsterdam, you’d ended up wedged between a window and Jamie Tartt and despite that being the stuff of nightmares only about a year ago, now it was something you couldn’t have hoped for in advance.
“I said I’d save a seat for ya, didn’t I?” he’d claimed proudly when you shimmied past him to sit in the window seat.  He’d been smiling hopefully at you as he patted it when you’d walked down the aisle of the coach. You’d thought you’d be sitting with Rebecca at the back until he’d tugged at your wrist to stop you in your tracks.
“To be totally transparent, I thought you were joking,” you murmured to him once you were settled, bag tucked underneath your seat, “You also said the same to Roy yesterday, and I heard you saying it to Sam this morning.”
“Yeah, but I was fuckin’ with them,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Besides, we have a whole conditioner campaign to plan, right? Now’s as good a time to start as any.”
You tried not to let your heart sink a little. Of course it was work-related. You’d just have to be happy with the grin he was sporting as he nudged your arm.
“You’re on,” you grinned back, then, with a show of boldness, “But only if you promise not to complain when I inevitably fall asleep on you later.”
If anything, his grin grows wider.
“Shoulder’s all yours, love. I’m told it’s pretty comfy.”
“Who’s told you that? Roy?”
He rolls his eyes, but it’s too fond. You busy yourself trying to manoeuvre your laptop out of your bag, but a hand on yours stops you in your tracks. When you look up, Jamie’s face is soft and he’s tucking your laptop away again.
“Relax. The coach’ll take hours yet. We can get comfy first, yeah?”
“You’re right,” you concede, shuffling into the back of your seat again with a content sigh, “Don’t know why I’m pretending to be eager to work.”
He laughs and you join in. You want to tell him he’s got a downright infectious laugh these days, because its lighter than ever and always filled with genuine happiness, but you don’t. Too much. Instead, you push up on the back of the seat in front of you to tap Dani urgently on the shoulder, then sit down quickly and turn a fake-reprimanding glance at Jamie.
“What is it, amigo?” he directs his question towards Jamie who’s looking incredulous, “Or are you playing a cheeky prank?”
You tut and sink further into your seat as you shake your head at Jamie. He begins to point at you, but Dani is already ruffling Jamie’s hair and turning back around as he mutters happily in Spanish. Jamie turns to you, brows furrowed.
“So that’s how it’s gonna be, eh?”
You shrug, as playful as you can manage with your heart beating a little harder in your chest. He narrows his eyes at you, then settles into his seat, and you know he’s plotting revenge. You can’t wait.
---
It’s been an hour and a half, and you and Jamie have been going back and forth almost the entire time, the very idea of doing any work on his new ad campaign buried in favour of having fun. Jamie had snuck your phone from your lap and prank called Ted who was sat at the back of the bus. You’d then somehow managed to do the same with Jamie’s phone, but decided to send a rather inflammatory text to Jan Maas, which was followed by a half hour argument between the two men that was incredibly entertaining.
Most recently, Jamie had made a terrible noise putting his mouth to his elbow and blamed it on you, but luckily Sam had seen him do it and you’d been able to clear your name. It had been a stellar effort though, so you were giving it some time before you found something perfect to retaliate with.
“Can I ask y’ something?” Jamie spoke suddenly, but his voice was softer than you’d heard it on the journey so far. You turned to him and nodded encouragingly, “I was jus’ sat here wonderin’ - and please don’t take this the wrong way - but why y’ decided to come with us? I’m happy about it, ‘course I am, but-“
“I get it, Jamie,” you said quickly, because you could see how much he was struggling. It was heartwarming how earnest he was when he’d said he was happy you’d come with them though, and you were fighting an urge to lean in and kiss his cheek to stop his rambling, “I’m not exactly essential personnel for a trip to Amsterdam.”
“Fuck, that’s exactly what I was tryin’ not to sound like - wait, y’ don’t really think that do ya?”
“Jamie, seriously, stop worrying! It’s sweet but so unnecessary. Hannah, you know the one that usually handles socials? She couldn’t make it so Rebecca asked if I’d fill in. I’m not one to turn down a free trip with some of my favourite people.”
His smile was genuine until the last sentence, where it morphed into something cocky as he puffed his chest.
“You wanna name any of those favourite people of yours?”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you pretended to think about it. God, it felt like it would be so easy to admit that you’d jumped at the chance to come because you jumped at any chance to spend time with Jamie these days, but you couldn’t. There were hours of this bus ride left to sit in awkward silence if he didn’t take it well.
“Well, Ted’s gotta be right up there,” you began, shifting in your seat to look around the bus, “Sam, of course, and, god, Colin is a must. Rebecca, obviously-“
“No one who’s last name might happen to rhyme with a part of the body, or somethin’?”
You scrunch up your face in fake confusion. It’s easy to imagine doing this forever, just playing pretend with Jamie Tartt for the rest of time, and you’ll play along as long as he lets you.
“Ohhh you mean Jan Maas? Rhymes with ass, very clever. Didn’t know you were such a poet.”
“I dabble, me,” he deadpans, but neither of you can keep it up as you dissolve into giggles. Jamie pulls his cap further down his forehead to hide just how much he’s cracking up and you tuck your face down - no need to have the rest of the bus trying to get in on the joke. When you both calmed down, he turned, looking back up at you from under his hat, “Very quick by the way. Jan Maas, ass. You’re good, you are.”
“You’ve only just noticed?” you asked incredulously, intent on teasing him just a step further, but he takes his hat off to look at you properly when he answers, running his hand once, twice through his hair first, of course.
“Nah,” he replied, voice that soft whisper that you’d come to crave, “Y’ wanna know when I noticed?”
You swallowed thickly, leaning into him in the same way he had, all conspiratorial and close.
“I dunno. Do I wanna know?”
Jamie ignored you and continued, eyes flitting from your face to a thread on his joggers he was picking at.
“It was when I’d just come back to Richmond an’ everyone was mad at me. Rightly so, I know. But I was sat in me car, havin’ lunch cause no one would eat with me yet. You were walking past with Rebecca going to lunch and you waved at me, with this mad bright smile on your face y’know?”
“I may have a vague memory of that,” you said, as if seeing him alone in his car hadn’t broken your heart at that time.
“An’ then the day after, when you ate in your car an’ invited me to join. I knew y’ were only doin’ it for me, but I didn’t care. I jus’ remember being so grateful. So, so grateful. That’s when I knew you were…”
He trailed off, but he was stuck staring at your face. You could feel the heat sparking down the length of your spine as he seemed to search your expression for something. His own was unreadable.
“…good?”
It was like you had snapped him out of a trance and somehow you wished you hadn’t said anything.
“Good, yeah, that’s what I mean,” he murmured, then seemed to let that cocky mask fall back into place, “You wanna tell me when you realised I was good now so I don’t just sit here like a prick? Or, let me guess, you’re still waiting for it to happen?”
Despite the teasing tone, you somehow knew this wasn’t an opportunity to joke. There was a newfound vulnerability in Jamie that you were always careful not to tread on; it was such a welcome change after all.
“Nope, I know exactly when it was. I walked past the boot room one day, a couple weeks before we had that first lunch I think, and you were making sure things were tidy enough for Will to sort. There was nobody to watch you do it, either. I just knew that you were a different Jamie. That you were…good.”
Good didn’t cut it at all. You’d sworn then and there that you were going to help him find his way at Richmond whatever it took, and eating lunch in your car just so that he could join you a few weeks later felt like a good start. It had been. As Jamie worked to gain the love of his teammates, he had you as a constant sounding board, willing lunch partner and occasional movie night holder. He wasn’t invited over often, not wanting to seem too eager, but he’d never turned you down.
Yes, that was the moment you’d realised he’d changed, but there had been a million moments since that had turned him into the first person that came to mind when he’d asked you for your favourite person on the bus.
Now he wasn’t meeting your eyes at all, fully trained on that thread he’d been picking at. You sighed and flicked his hand to stop him ruining his favourite pair, and he finally looked up at you, wide puppy eyes that always made you melt when they showed up.
“You really mean that?”
Rather than replying, you hold out your pinky to him and watch his smile grow as he twists his own around yours. You let it linger then lean in to kiss your own hand and gesture for him to do the same. He does it so tenderly you think you’re getting lightheaded.
“Every word,” you assure him, settling back into your seat and untangling your hands from each other, “Now that I’ve been so nice to you, think I can cash in that shoulder offer from earlier?”
It was easier to revert to the easy banter than continue down this sincere path. And even though it was only just beginning to get dark, you couldn’t look at him any longer. Maybe if you were resting on his shoulder, you could grin for a bit without him wondering what was wrong with you.
He patted his shoulder invitingly and you snuggled down into it, until your cheek was smushed into his jacket and you could smell the cologne radiating from him. You threaded an arm into the crook of his elbow without thinking, just because it was more comfortable, but when you moved to take it away, he rested his hand on yours to keep you there. That same hand then came up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, staying to cradle your head for a moment.
You held your breath.
He quickly thought better of leaving his hand there, squeezing your head for just a moment before dropping his arm back to his side.
It took a while to breathe naturally again, especially knowing he’d feel every painstaking inhale and exhale against him, and it took even longer for your eyes to close and to finally drift off.
---
When you woke up again, you had to squint as your eyes adjusted to the almost total darkness of the coach. It had to have been a couple of hours. You wiped your mouth to ensure you hadn’t drooled on your very kind seat partner then risked a glance up at him without moving your head too much.
He looked asleep. His chin was tucked against the crown of your head, and his whole body was turned into yours in a way it hadn’t been when you’d fallen asleep. There was nothing that would make you want to move and disturb the moment, except for the unfortunate cramp in your neck you were simply going to have to stretch out.
You tried to gently ease your head out from under his but his eyes fluttered open immediately as he looked at you in concern.
“Y’alright love?”
 That voice. Huskier and broader than ever in its newly woken state. You smiled up at him and whispered back, noticing that the rest of the bus were either asleep or resting as you stretched your neck.
“Didn’t mean to wake you, sorry. You can have my shoulder now if you like, ‘s only fair.”
“Nah you’re alright. If you’re awake, I’m awake. What kind of seatmate would I be if I left you on your own, hm?”
“A normal one?” you offered, but he shook his head, holding a hand to his heart as if wounded.
“I will not have myself being described as anythin' but fuckin' extraordinary, please,” he insisted quietly, making you chuckle, “Did ya sleep well?”
“Very. Whoever told you that you have a comfy shoulder was annoyingly right.”
There was a note of jealousy in your tone that you didn’t expect to be there when you started talking. If Jamie noticed it, he didn’t say anything, even though you could have sworn you saw a smirk pass across his features.
“Well, I’ll let Colin know you agree with him,” he said matter-of-factly, and you wondered if he was telling you it was Colin on purpose. It was so difficult to second guess your every interaction with him, feelings getting stronger every minute you spent with him. Really, you were tired of it and tired in general and it was enough. Your usual caution had been left behind. You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe finally confess, but he was talking before you could begin.
“Actually, can I tell ya a secret?”
It took you a moment to recover from what you had been about to say and respond to him. 
“Uh…yeah, of course. Anything, you know that.”
“I do, yeah. Yeah, that’s part of it actually,” he was so in his head, but he was looking at you like he had earlier, searching for something. Nowadays, he looked so soft all the time, but there was a selfish part of you that hoped maybe he was especially soft with you, “It’s about what we said earlier. I lied to ya, and I’ve been fuckin’ kickin’ meself for it ever since.”
“You lied?”
“Yeah. I said the day we had lunch in your car was when I realised you were good. That’s not true,” he admitted, as if he was saying something shameful, “I already knew you were good, way before I was done bein’ a full-time prick. Anyone could tell you were good.”
Your heart was hammering away in your chest, in your throat, in your ears.
“That day in the car park was actually when I realised you were just…fuckin’ incredible. Like, the most beautiful person I know. Not just fit, I knew you were fuckin’ fit, I’ve got eyes, but like- y’ were just somethin’ else. You are somethin’ else. Special, like.”
You felt frozen in your seat. It was hard to tell with how 'Jamie' the whole speech had been, but you were pretty sure there was a confession in there. It didn’t sound like something he’d say to any of his mates. Still, you had to be sure.
“Sorry, Jamie, I might be being thick here but are you saying you’re like…into me? Like, romantically?”
You cringed instantly at your choice of words but he didn’t falter. This time, when he laid his hand over yours, he kept it there, stroking a steady rhythm into the back of your hand.
“I’m saying I’m into you in like…all the ways y’ can be into someone. I’m fuckin’ mad about you, Y/N. The only one who doesn’t see it is you, but you fell asleep on me shoulder and I was in fuckin’ heaven so I’m telling ya. Look, I’m not expectin’ anything-“
“Well, you should. Expect things, I mean,” you cut him off, because you can’t go another second without reciprocating, “I thought you saved me a seat to talk about your conditioner campaign.”
He scoffed loudly then glanced around to check he hadn’t woken anyone as he lowered his voice again.
“I couldn’t give a shit about all that,” he said as firmly as he could whisper, “I give a shit about you. A lot of shits.”
You let out a breathy chuckle as you reply.
“God, I give so many shits about you, Jamie. Too many shits. Have done for fucking forever, I was just about to tell you.”
“What, before I did?” he said, making a face, “As if I’d let you steal my thunder.”
You take an opportunity and a boldness you can’t help but seize as you take his face in both hands and pull it towards yours until you’re both a breath apart. He closes his eyes and pushes towards you but you keep him just a moment away, stroking a trail along one of his eyelids.
“Well I think you’re fucking incredible too. Prick,” you mumble, without any venom. It sounds like the most loving pet name in the world, the way you utter it for his ears only.
“Yours,” he counters quietly, winding his arms around your waist until he can pull you fully onto his lap and you have to bite back a squeal. You both glance around for onlookers and find none, “Think the coast is clear, babe?”
“Crystal,” you insist, surging forward to press a searing kiss to his lips, gratified when he responds just as enthusiastically, pushing back into you, both hands clutching at you like you were about to disappear any moment.
There were still plenty of hours left on the coach, however, and you were content to stay exactly where you were as long as Jamie would let you.
And there was no chance of him letting you go anywhere.
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danistartt · 1 year
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Gentleman- Jamie Tartt
pairings: jamie tartt x reader, richmond team warnings: language. i think i read this one too many times. about: request! secret dating because reader works for Richmond (as like pr or physio or something) but when they win a match one day Jamie is so overcome with joy he just has to kiss her
“Don’t you think someone is bound to get worried you’re coming in here every day?” you wonder, pinching away individual blades of grass stuck among the fuzzy dandelions of Jamie’s socks.
“Nah,” he says, watching your careful attention from his place on the pillow. He’s feeling bad about putting his muddy shoes over your clean lap, but you haven’t complained once, only appreciating the easy access to touch him. “They don’t know I come up here.”
You look perplexed. “Where do they think you go?”
Jamie shrugs. “The loo?”
“The one not in the locker room? Six times a day for ten minutes?”
“I keep myself hydrated,” he tells you, lifting up his water bottle to wag it at you. “Y’know, to keep up appearances.”
You chuckle, pushing the web of your thumb around his ankle and trying to touch your pointer. Your phone blinks up at you, the time precarious. Your hand slackens. “You need to get back soon.”
Jamie gets that sticky feeling he does whenever he has to leave something, gross and pleading at the pit of his stomach, his every cell calling out for him to use his time better. He wants to touch you like you’re touching him. He shifts onto his elbows and stares at you. “I can be a little late.”
You frown at the idea, your hands still and warm on his calves. “No, Jamie.”
“Yes, Jamie,” he murmurs, his arms making quick succession in tugging you to him. He’s strong, he’s always been strong, but you don’t tend to notice until he’s pulling you out from beneath his legs and hugging you in a single movement.
You don’t want to encourage him but you want even less to not make your delight shown at being pressed against his chest.
The minute changes. Your care for it begins to dwindle.
“Jamie!” you squeal, not moving. 
He says your name in the same tone, as condescending as he used to be but sweetened by the kiss he presses against your hair. “C’mon, love,” he encourages, a horrid influence working.
“No,” you insist weakly. “Ted’s waiting for you. The team’s waiting for you.”
“But I’ve been waitin’ for this all day,” he complains pointedly. “Maybe I should trip o’er the ball or somethin’. Make a nice excuse to spend hours here with ya.”
“Jamie Tartt? Not believable.”
He makes a pleased noise, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You’re right.”
Another minute. Ted’s brown eyes bore into your subconscious.
Painfully, you peel yourself off of Jamie, slotting his thighs between your own. You watch his pupils dilate from above him.
“No,” you start, gently holding his face in your hands in a plea and causing the opposite effect you’d meant to. “No time. Later.”
He grasps your coat tightly.
“I promise. Just go to practice.” You spy the time and scramble off of him. “Now.”
He groans, catching your wrist when you hurry to collect the loose strands of his hair. He holds up a hand, pinky finger outstretched, and stares in question.
You roll your eyes but hook your own through his, a grin making its way to his face. “Y’know these’re binding, right?” he asks pragmatically.
You’d taught him that. The prick. “Yes,” you say exasperatedly, trying to pull him off the couch.
“‘M goin’,” he mutters, letting you. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”
“No you will not,” you gasp. “They’re going to think you have a bladder infection.”
“I’ll make somethin’ up,” he shrugs, looking around. He picks up your keys off your desk and wags them. “Maybe you dropped your keys when you were headin’ in.”
“Jamie,” you warn. “You can’t leave the team so much because, beside the fact that they’ll notice something is up, you actually like being with them and—”
“I like you better. A lot prettier.” He closes his fingers around the keys.
You inch closer slowly,  but he’s undeterred and blows you a kiss, leaving your office with only muddy tracks left in his place before you can catch up. “Do not come by in half an hour!”
He listens to you. Kind of.
You see him a few hours later, a cocky glaze on his features, keys clicking against one another. “Hey, doc, I think ya dropped somethin’.”
You snatch them from him. “What a gentleman.”
“Right? Had to fight for it, too. Coach must really like returning keys.”
“How’d you get him to give them up?”
“I jus’ left,” he shrugs.
You gape at him. “What?”
“I told ‘im I found your keys, he said he’d give ‘em to you after practice. I said you might need ‘em now and then I just went inside ‘fore he could call Will over. I should actually be gettin’ back now, our screaming break’s probably over.” He slinks over to you and kisses your forehead, smelling like grass and sweat and lavender detergent.
“What?” you echo.
“I’ll see you later. Can you pick up some food before you get home? Kent don’t really like it when I leave the screamin’. Says it’s most effective on me.”
He smiles at you, waves, and leaves you perplexed.
You put down what he stole from you and notice vibrant pink peeking beneath metal, a green stem’s end through the ring. When you pull it out, you recognize it as one of the flowers that keep growing at the far right edge of the field. You melt into your seat, pouting at the crumpled petals.
-
“So, what’s the verdict, Doc?” Ted asks when you come out of your room, dipping a finger behind your right glove.
“He’ll be okay. He can play this week’s game as long as he doesn’t put too much pressure on his foot. I told him to ice it periodically for two days and then just make sure it isn’t swelling.”
“No permanent damage, then?”
You laugh. “No permanent damage.”
Sam pushes your door open, leaning on a crutch.
“How you feelin’, champ?” Ted asks.
Sam shrugs. “I’ve been better. At least Doctor Y/n gave me the all clear for this week.” He looks pointedly at you, as if Ted might need confirmation from you.
“Under what conditions?” you pry.
“Rest, ice, compress, and elevate,” he lists off his fingers.
“The most important for you, Mr. Obisanya, being…”
“Not being on it for two days,” he answers, ever the great student.
“I wish all my patients listened as well as you do,” you commend, letting him go with a smile.
Ted watches him go, turning back to you with a cheery expression. “Well, thank you, Doc.”
“It’s what I’m here for.” You toy with your gloves, listening to the team erupt in noise once Sam assumedly gets back.
“And also to bring a smile to all our faces. Not to say that’s a purpose. Just a nice bonus.”
You laugh. “Thank you, Ted. Is there anything else you need from me?”
He shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. Just wanted to ask if you were interested in goin’ out with the team and I tonight.”
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, just the Crown and Anchor. We haven’t officially asked ‘em yet, but one thing that doesn’t change no matter where we are is that athletes always appreciate a good drink with good company.”
“Very true,” you murmur, contemplating. You hadn’t gone out with the boys in a while and you were beginning to miss their antics. You could sit around the house for the evening, or you could spend that same evening a little drunk with your friends. “You know what? Sure. I’d love to.”
“Alrighty then!” Ted cheers, pleasantly genuine in the way no one else is. “I’ll let ‘em know. We’ll see ya later, Doc!” 
“You too, Ted!” you call after him, slumping into your chair once you’re alone. Your phone vibrates from the table, lighting up with a picture of Jamie that he’d insisted you set as his profile picture. “Hello?”
“Coach says yer coming with us tonight?”
You stare at your door. “He just left. How could he have possibly already told you that?”
“Team groupchat. He was very insistent about it an' m'honestly not that upset about it anymore.”
You laugh. “I am going. Are you?”
“Course. D’you want me to pick you up?”
“How do we explain that?”
“I’m a gentleman?”
“To this degree? Do you think they’d believe that?”
“I’ll go before. Help ya pick out your clothes, put ‘em on?”
“You’ll see me when I get there.”
“C’mon, love. I want to be the first.”
“You always are!”
“Do you really wanna risk that streak?”
“Yes.” Other voices begin to filter in, still far away but getting closer. “I’ll see you there, Jamie. I love you.”
Jamie pauses, a soft shuffling noise preceding what is clearly Jamie’s palm curving around his phone’s speaker. “I love ya, too,” he whispers. You hang up, leaning into your seat. Your phone zzpts in your hand.
send a picture. Three dots, blinking in and out. please.
Humming, you debate it before: i’ll think about it. 
-
Jamie, of course, is the first to see you.
He looks for you in every creak of the pub door, slyly craning his neck to check for the color of your hair or the burgundy coat you tend to wear on these outings. When he finally catches sight of you, he looks away, satisfied to have been the owner of the first glance.
The others spot you quickly, raising their beers in your direction. Zoereaux puts your drink in your hand, cold bubbles splashing the curve of your thumb.
You thank him, kissing his cheek in greeting as the others crowd you. “Maybe I should be worried you all know my order.”
“Absolutely not,” Ted chimes in from your other side. “Knowledge is love.” He hugs you too. “Glad you could make it, Doc.”
You push yourself onto a seat next to Jan Maas, tipping your glass at him. “You look nice,” he says.
“Thank you,” you respond. “You too.”
“Doc?” Isaac asks.
“You can call me by my name, Isaac.”
He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Nah. Feels weird now.”
“Alright. What’s up?”
“My sister says thank you for the advice. Her leg’s all better now and she told me to invite you over for dinner.”
“She doesn’t have to do that.”
“She insists.”
“You should just accept,” Colin says. “She makes a good Shepherd’s pie and won’t give up.”
Isaac nods, jutting a finger in his direction.
“Of course, then. Can’t wait.”
The conversation continues, and you indulge a glance at Jamie to find him looking back at you, an inquisitive pull to his brows. Your eyebrows jump, trying to ask a question with only your features.
You pull your phone from your pocket and begin typing out a message for him when the topic somehow heads back to you.
“Hey, d’you end up going on that date?” Bumberbatch asks suddenly.
You blink. Jamie turns to him curiously. “What?”
“With the prick. You know. Coiffed hair, All puffed up.”
“Um.” You try very hard to not look at Jamie, who’s surely staring at you with wide, amused eyes. “Yes. Yes I did.”
“How’d it go?” Isaac urges. Your mouth is open with no certain words to comfort.
“Yeah. How’d the date with the prick go?” Jamie pipes up, sliced brow up. He’s awful. Truly, truly awful and he knows it.
You force a smile at him. “Not as bad as I thought.” The team mumbles in satisfaction but Jamie doesn’t give.
“Not as bad, huh?” Jamie repeats, lips thinning in thought. “I dunno.” He does a little shake of his head and licks his lips, meeting your eyes again. “Maybe it went a little better than that?”
You clear your throat, heat rising to your face though you try desperately to keep it down. 
Colin raises a brow. “Why would you say that?”
Jamie shrugs, unfairly unphased. “Just askin’.”
The attention moves off of you. You glare at him.
He smiles and, in the wake of a controversial argument between cartoons, winks at you. Your legs go weak.
-
You’re supposed to sit with the coaches during matches. Keeley had been upset at first and Rebecca sorry, offering a replacement medical professional for a game if you were so inclined to observe a game from the box seats, but you’d refused. Your place, although precarious with flying balls and the grandest source of stress, is kind to you. 
You sit behind Ted during matches. The back of his head is surprisingly comforting in the tensest points of a match, and you find you can catch the preliminary movements of his fingers when you’re nearby.
There isn’t much contorting you have to do to sprint into the field if you’re needed, and the seat itself isn’t too bad when you’re not. Also, you have a great view.
You’re close enough to feel the strength with which the players kick the ball, you’re part of the very exclusive audience to the coaches’ hope, and when he gets close enough, Jamie can hear your cheers for him very clearly.
You’re completely sure he can hear you now, shouting at the top of your lungs up front with the coaches, fists tight enough to shake. He speeds up with renewed energy, the ball a blur between fast legs and fake passes. You grasp Roy’s arm with everything in you and let your eyes move to the timer. Less than fifteen seconds to go and a tie glares in blocky red numbers.
Your fingers spark with something hot, curling tighter around Roy’s wrist when the ball is passed to Jamie.
The time goes by too slowly and the ball flies too fast, a defender slamming to the ground with his hands up as Jamie’s kick sends the ball into the net. The clock ticks for the last time. The arena erupts in sound and a combination of red and blue.
You scream, finally letting go of Roy to drag your hands to your face. Isaac and Dani embrace on the field, most of the others running toward Jamie but Jamie is sprinting toward you.
You realize too late what’s going on, too proud of Jamie, too dizzy on adrenaline and excitement to realize what’s about to happen and why it shouldn’t.
He comes up to you beaming, picking you up easily and spinning you around. You respond immediately, palms against his warm cheeks, lips pressing repeatedly against his forehead and then finally his lips. “You did so good,” you praise, hoping he can hear you even through the overwhelming noise. “I’m so proud of you.”
He grins, finally catching your lips and lowering you to the floor. It takes only two seconds for what happened to settle in. You can see it on his face, the exhilaration contorting into recognition. He finally looks away from you and gulps.
The stadium is still loud, but most of the team is looking at you, caught in differing positions of celebration. Ted stares at the both of you, jaw dropped.
“What do we do?” he whispers to you. “Do you think they’ll believe it if we say it was an accident?”
“No,” you respond just as quietly. “No, I don’t think so.”
2K notes · View notes
buckychristwrites · 11 months
Text
About You | Masterlist | j.t. |
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A Completed Series
Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader
Summary: Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you’re publicly feuding with.
Warnings: Lots of cussing. Some angst. Some fluff. Enemies to lovers
A/N: I’ve never written for Jamie before so i hope I do him justice. Enjoy! :)
Prologue
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Epilogue
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illiterateaffairs · 1 year
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Distractions Masterlist {Jamie Tartt x F!Reader}
playlist | mood board | reader’s instagram | ao3
0. the exit (prologue)
I. london calling 
II. alone at midnight
III. you’re kinda cute 
scene between: stay like this forever
IV. catching feelings
scene between: let’s just play pretend
V. a slight malfunction
VI. nightcall
VII. crawling back to you
VIII. open wound
i like you drabble
IX. slips through my fingers 
X. let me back in
XI. someone to stay
XII. you can feel it on the way home
one shot: dim that spotlight
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uneditedidiot · 10 months
Text
i can see you - jamie tartt x reader
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i can see you - jamie tartt x reader
jamie tartt x gn!reader
summary: Jamie can’t stop imagining you pressed up against the wall and his mouth on yours…will he act on it? Based off the song I Can See You by Taylor Swift from Speak Now Taylor’s Version.
word count: 1.4k
Warnings: COULD be considered NSFW so maybe MDNI (18+) just in case, implied smut, Jamie pining after you, language
A/N: I started this the day Speak Now TV came out, but I didn’t get the chance to finish it until now cause I was moving and didn’t have internet. This gets a LITTLE spicy, so enjoy. :) also THIS GIF 👀
’Cause I can see you waiting down the hall from me
And I could see you up against the wall with me
And what would you do? 
Baby, if you only knew
That I can see you
Well…Jamie was fucked.
You stood down the hall from him talking with Keeley about the big press conference coming up for the team, making sure you’d scheduled everything for the boys that you needed to.
Jamie couldn’t hear the conversation, just stood gazing at you with a soft expression by the water fountain. He’d told himself that staring probably wasn’t the best idea, as you had a rule that you didn’t date people on the team, but he couldn’t help himself. Everything you did, everything you said, even how you moved…he was hopelessly in love with you.
He had imagined this scenario at least a hundred times. You’d walk down the hall to him. He’d wrap his arms around you, one hand on the back of your neck, the other on the small of your back, and pull your lips to his. Then you’d slide your hands up over his shoulders, reciprocating the passionate kiss, and he’d walk you slowly backwards so that you were pressed against the wall at the mercy of his hands and mouth. And that’s where you would stay; bodies pressed together in a way that made you both want each other even more, ready to find an empty room at a moments’ notice. Then after you’d both spent at least an hour (if not more) drawing pleasurable experience out of pleasurable experience out from each other, you’d both confess your love for the other.
He shook himself out of this enchanting imaginary moment when he saw you laugh at something Keeley said, pat her shoulder, and start walking down the hall towards him.
“Fuck,” he hissed as he noticed you notice him staring. He spun quickly on his heel, pretending to fill up his already full water bottle.
He heard your footsteps approaching, then silence as you came to a halt in front of him.
“Uh, you realize your bottle is already full, right?” you teased.
He glanced up, stopping the spout from sending more filtered water cascading over his hands into the drain. He felt his cheeks grow warm.
“Erm, can’t ever be too hydrated,” he heard himself stutter. “Coach Lasso is always gettin’ on me to drink more water, so…here I am doing that.”
You wrinkled your eyebrows in a confused smile, which sent butterflies fluttering about in his stomach. You were just so cute…
“Ted wanted me to let you know that he’s going to call you up to talk about your assists this month,” you told him. “And Roy wants to talk to you in his office after the conference. Something about…” You checked your phone, frowning in puzzlement. “...Uncle’s Day?”
“Shit,” he cursed. He averted his eyes bashfully. “Yeah, I might’ve…intruded a little on Phoebe’s holiday with him.”
You rolled your eyes good naturedly. “Oh come on, you know Roy. He acts like he’s some untouchable, rough-and-tumble, aggressive bear, but on the inside, he’s like a cute, angry little duck.”
Jamie let out a huge laugh. He was afraid it might have sounded too eager or loud. The self-conscious, nagging voice in his brain told him that it was dumb to laugh like that at such a small joke.
But you clearly enjoyed that he found your joke amusing. Your face went slightly pink, looking almost a little embarrassed.
“Should I tell Roy you’ve just compared him to a duck?” he joked.
You feigned an attitude but your smile was evident. “Alright. Go ahead. What would he do? Yell at me? He does that anyways.”
“Yellin’ is that man’s love language, I swear.”
“What’s yours?”
His breath caught in his throat. “What?”
You held his gaze confidently, eyes darkening slightly as you asked yet again, “What’s your love language?”
Jamie’s heart was stuttering. His brain had needed a moment to catch up to what you were asking.
“I, erm…” he stammered. His eyes bounced around, not able to meet yours. “For meself, it’s probably…eh, physical touch and, uh, words of affirmation.”
He finally was able to make eye contact. You clearly were paying attention, nodding as he finished speaking.
Jamie decided to be just as bold. “I told you mine, so you tell me yours.”
You smiled back. “Physical touch and quality time.”
He smirked, flirting back. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”
“I’d hope so,” you grinned, patting him lightly on the chest. Then without another word, you walked back down the hall, glancing back a few times to make sure he was watching. His chest tingled where you’d touched him.
Oh MAN…Jamie was really fucked now. Had you been thinking of the same things?
He questioned the interaction over and over again in his mind throughout the rest of that day. He knew he was distracted, especially during the press conference. Ted had to get his attention multiple times so he could answer questions that had just been asked of him.
But after the conference was over and the work day had ended, Jamie decided to act on things.
He stood by the water fountain, waiting for you to come down the stairs to go home. He tapped the top of the cooler anxiously.
You’d both been very professional with each other up until that conversation earlier. He’d never been tempted this much to act on his feelings. He knew that if he had acted on them before, you’d have become an addiction for him, which he couldn’t afford at this point. But, again, that was before the flirty exchange about love languages earlier.
Footsteps.
There you were.
He inhaled sharply, butterflies in his stomach fluttering like mad.
He saw you appear, bag in hand, staring down at your phone as you stepped down from the last stair.
He called your name. You whipped around, puzzled. Your face lit up when you saw him.
“Jamie,” you said, “what are you still doing here? It’s like seven. I thought all the players had gone home.”
He smiled lightly, coming closer to you as he spoke. “There’s not many of us left. I think Sam and Isaac might still be here, but…I have something else I need to do before I leave.”
Your confused expression only grew. “And what’s that?”
He stopped right in front of you, faces inches apart. You made no effort to move away from him, just stared back at him. Your eyes flickered to his lips.
“This,” he replied softly.
Jamie crushed his lips to yours. The reciprocation from you was instant. You dropped your bag to the floor.
His hands wound around your body, hands caressing as much of you as possible. Your arms went up to his neck, one hand on the back of his head, the other over his shoulders.
Your mouths moved hungrily against each other, trying to feel as much of each other as possible. It was like rain had finally come after a drought. You both realized how much you’d wanted each other.
Jamie was licking into your mouth. You slid your hands to tug on the collar of his sweatsuit jacket. His fingers were tracing the sliver of skin between your t-shirt and jeans. Your whole body was on fire.
Jamie wasn’t thinking straight. He backed you into the wall of the hallway, pressing your body against his. There was no space between you at all. His knee moved between your legs, pressing up. You whined against his mouth. He smirked into the kiss and groaned.
This was exactly what he had imagined so many times before.
His lips trailed off yours down your chin and neck. He licked and bit and kissed his way to your jugular. His left hand went up the back of your shirt to trace your spine in an agonizingly delicious manner.
Your breathing was heavy, trying to find some relief on his knee as you ground down. His mouth was relentless on your neck. It was everything you’d wanted for so long.
You fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, pulling slowly down. His mouth was immediately back on yours, but he unzipped the jack quickly and slung it off.
He was only in a tank top, leaving his arms bare. You dug your fingernails into his biceps as he kissed over your jaw to behind your ear. He felt fireworks under his skin where you traced.
You let out an involuntary moan. He pulled away, grinning widely, lips still inches from yours.
“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Can’t have you alerting everyone here what we’re doin’, love. Not a sound...”
You pulled his lips to yours again. 
In between kisses, you suggested hoarsely, “boot room?”
Jamie pulled back again. You could feel his breath against your chin. “Are you sure?”
You nodded, blushing, still giving him some of your signature sass. “Obviously. I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I wasn’t.”
He pecked your lips once more, grabbing your hands and immediately leading you away to the boot room to act the rest of his fantasy…and yours.
942 notes · View notes
alwritey-aphrodite · 11 months
Text
Cruel Summer
no rules in breakable heaven
Pairing: Jaime Tartt x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ - smut(f receiving oral, other implied nonsense, cursing
Word Count: 5.5k
Author’s Note: clearly I’ve gotten caught up in the babygirl wave, my lovely wife @andr0medafallen helped me immensely and I love her. Also I’m just a slutty little virgin so I can’t be held accountable for any inaccuracies
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Conversations are swirling around you, music is blasting from a building down the street, you’re keenly aware of the blood pumping in your veins, and you need a goddamn break.
You loved spending time with Keeley, you really did, but it’s hot and muggy outside, and this is the fifth party you’d been to in the past week. Tonight, at least, is with the Richmond boys, and not some friend of a friend of Keeley’s where all you do is stand in the corner and drink by yourself. Keeley, ever the social butterfly, is off chatting with Rebecca and Leslie, giving you the opportunity to focus on not losing your mind.
It’s strange, to feel so simultaneously alive and asleep, and you could swear you can feel the air buzzing in your ears. You simultaneously want to go to bed and to stay awake for the rest of the night, it’s like your mind can’t figure out what it needs.
And then Jamie’s walking over to you and the world comes back into focus.
The two of you aren’t very close, connected mostly through your separate friendships with Keeley, but from what you’ve heard from her and from the internet, he seems to be turning over a new leaf. Though, there was a part of you that enjoyed his bad boy attitude, even when he was a bit of a dick.
Maybe you just had a thing for men who were emotionally unavailable.
“Want me to walk you home?” Jamie says after a few seconds of standing next to each other in silence, shocking you out of your silent appraisal of your surroundings.
“Huh?” Clearly, your brain-mouth connection is taking a while to get up to speed.
“You seem kinda out of it, I know you came with Keeley, figured I should ask if you wanted to leave.”
The kindness of his offer is a little shocking in the way it’s so purely sweet, and again, your brain seems a little slow on the draw.
“I’m alright, I can call a car in a bit,” you tell him, not wanting to drag him away from a fun night just because he saw you acting all mopey and uncomfortable.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind getting outta here,” and then it’s clear to you that his offer is simply an excuse for him to leave the party, and while your heart drops a little you can’t say you blame him.
“What the hell,” you respond anyway, finishing your drink before you turn to follow Jamie out of the party, stopping by Keeley to let her know you’re headed home.
The walk back to your place is mostly silent, the air hanging heavy and thick as you try to figure Jamie out. It’s clear that he’s changed from the first time you’d met him, back when he was only Keeley’s douchebag of a boyfriend, shortly before his stint on reality TV. Now, though, he seems different in some way that you can’t quite puzzle out.
“Wanna come up?” You offer, your heart and your brain in a heated argument over how awful and irresponsible of a decision that is.
“Nah, I’m alright,” he sticks his hands in his pockets and you try not to let your heart sink onto the ground with this cool-guy routine of his.
Still, you thank him for taking you home and head up to your apartment, flicking off your shoes and berating yourself for acting the way you did. Even though you’re an adult, and wanting to sleep with someone doesn’t make you a bad person, there’s a layer of guilt that hangs over your simple question, over your desires.
Maybe it’s because he’s Keeley’s ex, and even though she’s moved on and found her perfect match, girl code says you shouldn’t even look at him. Maybe it’s because as far as you know, he’s an awful person who would treat you like nothing. Or maybe it’s because he’s actually worked on himself and you’re going to self-sabotage anything good that could even possibly happen.
The guilt you taste at the back of your mouth doesn’t change the fact that you want him, though, so you throw a longing glance out your window and are surprised to see Jamie still standing on the street below. As quick as you can in your old building, you unlatch the window and push it open, sticking your head out.
“Change your mind?” You ask, a grin spreading on your face when Jamie jumps at the sound of your voice.
“That ok?” He throws back, looking a little bashful and so unfairly adorable that he makes you a little dizzy. You just nod in response, and he seems to get the message because he disappears from view and a few seconds later, there’s a knock at your door.
Briefly, you wonder if he ran up the stairs.
There’s a part of your brain that keeps screaming about how this is a bad idea, that come morning you’re going to regret this, but you do your best to ignore it as you close the door behind Jamie and press your lips to his. His hands find your waist, settling there with a firm grasp, and you hope you never need oxygen again.
It’s addicting, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, and you do your best to ignore the alarm bells ringing in your mind that you’re never going to be able to move on from this and instead just enjoy yourself. Moving on autopilot, you find yourself at your bedroom door, and feeling lightheaded you pull away from Jamie and rest your forehead on his.
“Can I?” He breathes against your mouth, fingers grasping the bottom hem of your shirt. You nod enthusiastically, your nose brushing against his. Once your shirt is flung somewhere into the depths of your room, Jamie’s hands settle on your bare ribs.
Pushing every worry you have to the back of your brain, you follow Jamie’s lead and, with his help, pull his shirt over his head as he walks you back towards your bed. Obviously, you’d known he was fit, but seeing him so close, so open to your touch is a whole other feeling. You want to trace his entire body, his scars and bruises and tattoos, first with your hands and then with your mouth.
“This is just a one time thing, yeah?” Jamie asks as your hands settle onto his jaw, trying to bring him in for another kiss.
“Yeah, of course,” you respond, being the cool girl you know you’re meant to be even as you fantasize about hearing the stories behind his tattoos and spending mornings together.
It’s practically impossible for you to keep your hands off of him, every layer removed giving you more of his skin to explore. Jamie, though, seems just as greedy as you are, kissing and touching his way across your body. You feel alive, electric in ways you’ve never felt before. It’s as if every moment you spend with Jamie, he takes up more and more space in your brain, until he’s all you can think about.
Jamie, as he bites that sensitive spot underneath your jaw bone with a grin.
Jamie, as he trails kisses down the center of your body, from your sternum to your belly button.
Jamie, as he moves lower and lower, his hands resting on your inner thighs.
Jamie, he’s all you think about until you can’t think of anything, your mind shut off and your body rewired as you feel like you’re exploding from the inside out.
And then everything comes rushing back in, all the sounds and scents and feelings of your apartment, all the thoughts you’d tried to keep away. You still haven’t said anything, focusing on breathing and not floating away.
“You need water or something?” Jamie asks from his spot on the pillow next to you, watching as your breath continues to heave in and out of your chest.
“This is my place, shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You retort once it feels as if your heart won’t escape your chest.
“There aren’t any rules about who gets water.” You watch as a smirk grows across his face, “Besides, you look like you need it more than me.”
Trying not to give in to his teasing, you hide your face in your hands and groan, “Maybe that means you should have been trying harder.” He shrugs, conceding before he slips off your bed and begins the hunt around for his clothes. You wish you could ask him to stay, even just for a few minutes longer, but instead you shrug on a large t-shirt and walk him to the door.
“See you around,” you offer as you lean in the doorway, Jamie making his way to the stairs.
“Yeah, sure, see ya.” And then you're left all alone again, your brain running wild within your skull, so you make your way back to your bed in the hopes that you can fall asleep and pretend you aren’t regretting all of your life decisions.
The next few times you see Jamie, the two of you talk sparingly, sticking mainly to waves across the room or slightly uncomfortable smiles. And it’s a shame, because you’ve found that you actually enjoy talking to Jamie, but now you’re not so certain you can handle yourself around him.
Even though you know Jamie’s not looking for a relationship, it’s hard not to think about what you’d be like together, if you’d even work out, because in your mind, what’s the point of trying if you know you’re going to fail? Why would you enter into a relationship with someone if you know it couldn’t possibly last?
“Hey,” a voice says from behind, shocking you out of your introspection. You jump, ready to scold whoever snuck up on you when you hear Jamie’s laughter, happy and loose.
“Jesus, Jamie, you scared me to death,” you tell him as his laughter dies down, eyes scanning for anyone watching your interactions. You know that no one cares, that people have casual relationships all the time, but you can’t help but feel like you’d be judged for doing the same.
“You wanna get out of here?” He asks, and you can tell from his voice, from his eyes, from the way he’s holding himself, what he’s really asking you.
“I thought that was a one time thing?” You hide your smile by taking a sip of your drink and delighting in the way Jamie’s cheeks redden.
“What I meant was, it’s just a no-strings-attached thing.”
“I’m flattered,” you tell him, already turning to leave and planning your text to Keeley that you hadn’t felt well and called an Uber to leave early.
Instead of an Uber, though, you find yourself pressed up against Jamie’s car, his hands holding your waist and his tongue down your throat. As much as you loved the attention, you pulled away, placing a gentle hand on his cheek when he tried to follow.
“Someone could see,” you whisper against him, trying to keep an ear out for anyone else leaving the small party at Colin’s house. This seems to bring Jamie back to his senses, though, because he unlocks his car and slips inside, but only after he kisses you one last time.
The drive to his place is short, leaving the two of you sitting in his driveway, no sounds but the noises filtering in through the cracked windows. There’s something about this, about him, that just feels like summer, like late sleepless nights and days spent in bed.
Even though neither of you have spoken about it, you can tell that whatever relationship you have with Jamie ends with the summer. You know this is for the best, knowing that once training and games pick up again he’ll barely have time for friends, let alone any other kind of relationship, but you hate the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. It feels like there’s an expiration date, some dark cloud looming over your sunny day, and it’s making it hard to enjoy the time you do have with Jamie.
You’d never say any of this to him, though, because you’re not even sure if you’re really friends, if this relationship you have is anything beyond physical. It’s not as though you sit around pining after Jamie Tartt all day, but you can’t help but feel left out whenever you see him with his actual friends, as if you’re missing something important about him. The two of you have a surface level connection, and you’re fine with that, you really are, it’s just hard not to get caught up in your own head.
Jamie, though, is doing his best to get rid of seemingly every thought you have, leaning over the center console to kiss you again. It’s cramped and a little awkward and you don’t have any room to move around, but you can’t stop. Eventually, the two of you break apart for long enough to stumble into Jamie’s house and then you’re being pushed backwards to his bedroom.
The realization hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever been to Jamie’s house, and you can’t help but look around his bedroom, taking in all of his choices in decorations and knick-knacks.
“That’s a pretty color,” you say absentmindedly, starting off into his room.
“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Jamie asks, pulling back from where he’d been sucking a mark onto your chest.
You can’t help but laugh, loud and unrestrained, as you run your fingers through the strands of hair hanging in Jamie’s eyes, giving them a gentle tug. Looking down after you catch your breath, you notice Jamie smiling at you and suddenly you feel too exposed, too open and you want to turn and run and never see him again but instead you use your light grip on his hair to pull him up for a kiss.
There’s a strange feeling deep in your stomach, one that you plan to ignore for as long as you can because it’s distracting you from Jamie. At first, you’d just thought it was the want filling your body, the urge to pull him impossibly close and feel him impossibly deep, but the feeling’s still there hours later as you lie boneless and sleepy.
Jamie’s off getting you some water, even though you never asked for any, and when he returns you’re dozing on his pillow, resisting the urge to snuggle under his sheets.
“You can just stay here tonight, if you want,” Jamie offers, sitting on the other side of the bed and staring off into space before quietly adding, “I wouldn’t mind.”
“Your bed is pretty comfortable,” you reply, thankful that you don’t have to get up and go searching for your clothes.
Instead, Jamie hands you the glass of water and a t-shirt, one that you gratefully slip on before getting under the covers. You fall asleep almost immediately, exhaustion spread throughout your entire body and mind, so you never know that Jamie lies awake almost the whole night, staring at the ceiling and trying not to wake you up or think about how perfect you look while asleep next to him.
When you do wake up, it’s with the sun streaming through the windows and Jamie’s arm slung over your waist. The two of you are impossibly close, both sharing the same pillow despite the size of his bed. It pains you to notice that he’s incredibly adorable when he’s sleeping. Part of you wants to kiss him all over and wake him, but the other just wants to let him sleep forever, watching as he breathes.
Luckily, you don’t need to make that choice, as Jamie’s eyes flutter open and you can see when he realizes just how close the two of you are and he tries to play it smooth but he scoots back to the side he fell asleep on.
“Did you sleep alright?” He asks, and you’re more focused on the scratchy way his voice sounds than the actual question. You just nod, hoping that was the right answer and delighting when he smiles, all soft and sweet and just for you.
You need to leave, get out while you still can before you end up spending the whole day with Jamie, because you know if you stay for a second longer you’re never going to want to leave him. Most of your time together was spent sleeping, but it's already almost impossibly hard to leave him. While you still have your resolve, you slip out of his insanely comfortable bed and go hunting for your clothes. It kills you a little inside when Jamie doesn’t stop you.
“Want me to drive you?” He asks, sitting up and moving to get out of bed and you need to stop yourself from staring at his toned chest, at the shorts low on his hips.
“No, I can just walk, it’s a nice day,” you lie, having no idea what the weather was like but hoping that summer wouldn’t let you down. Jamie nods, settles back into bed, and you could swear your heart physically aches because none of this should be happening.
You shouldn’t even be here in the first place, but here you are not wanting to leave. You shouldn’t be staring at him, with his mussed hair and his tattoos on full display. You shouldn’t have any feelings for him besides physical attraction and the basic feelings of friendship, but you’re starting to worry about that feeling in your belly that just grows and grows every second you spend with Jamie.
“See you around,” you tell him, leaving as quickly as you can before you convince yourself to stay any longer. You wander around London, all turned around and trying to find your flat without thinking of Jamie, while Jamie sits at home and tries not to think of you.
The rest of your day is spent doing meaningless activities, chores and work you’d been putting off for weeks. You wash your sheets and clean your fridge and respond to emails, trying your hardest to keep your mind off Jamie. It’s impossible, and the second you find yourself distracted, your mind wanders right back to him. What you really need is to leave your house, find someplace with blasting music and bodies pressed impossibly close, somewhere that you’ll have no space to think of anything, let alone Jamie.
Lucky for you, Keeley stays busy, always having one event or another she needs to go to and she always lets you tag along. Tonight your mission is to stop thinking of Jamie, even if that doesn’t mean going home with someone else. Just for a few hours, you don’t need him consuming your every thought.
Unfortunately for you, Jamie is always welcome with Keeley and has the same exact plan as you.
The air inside the bar is stifling, as if there’s no air conditioning and no windows, just the thick summer heat. You notice Jamie almost immediately, though it would be impossible not to with his highlights and his beaming smile, like your own personal sun. As much as you try to fight it, you can’t help but wonder if he noticed you at all, if he thinks of you at all when you’re not together.
You’re two drinks deep and you can’t help but think about Jamie, about what he thinks of you. Are you really just someone to fuck, someone who’s attractive enough for him to sleep with you whenever he feels the urge?
You’re three drinks deep and you can’t help but wonder if you could ever be anything more to him, if he’d ever want that. It’s common knowledge that Jamie’s still a little hooked on Keeley, and who could blame him, but are you really just a distraction?
You’re four drinks deep and you can’t stop crying, the tears flowing like rivers as Keeley and Rebecca try their best to comfort you, to calm you down. Eventually, Rebecca calls you a car and Keeley waits with you, ready to leave and make sure you get home safely.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise,” you say through your sobs as you sit in the backseat on your way to your apartment, Keeley rubbing up and down your arms in a soothing manner.
“This isn’t about Jamie, is it?” She asks in that kind, understanding voice of hers and it only makes you cry harder.
“I think I love him and it fucking sucks.” Keeley’s hand moves to smooth over your hair as you lean against her, all the fight draining out of your body.
“Babe, just tell him.” You can’t help but shoot her a glare, one that she brushes off with a laugh, “What’s the worst that could happen? He won’t sleep with you anymore?”
Your mouth drops open, shocked to your core that Keeley knew about what the two of you had been doing and your heart breaks a little more because you feel like you’ve just betrayed one of your best friends. Keeley, though, gives you a supportive little squeeze, one that tells you that she isn’t mad at all.
That was one of your favorite things about Keeley, how supportive she is of all of the people she loves, no matter the situation. She’s wise beyond her years and is the kind of person who will go out and get whatever she wants through her own hard work and determination. Keeley is absolutely someone you need on your side, and it hits you just how thankful you are for her and all she does for you.
Here you are, sobbing over a boy, and Keeley does nothing but support you and try to help you calm down. She doesn’t look at you like you’re over-dramatic or crazy and instead is doing her best to fix whatever was making you feel this way.
“Clearly, this whole situation-ship is hurting you, and if he doesn’t want the same things as you, maybe it’s time to let it end,” she finishes with another loving squeeze, just as the car pulls up outside of your building.
The two of you slide out of the car, Keeley offering you her hand as she helps you up to your apartment and you’re left reeling by what she’s said. You didn’t even know you wanted something more until it hit you like a ton of bricks tonight, Jamie consuming your thoughts in all the wrong ways. You know Keeley’s right, that whatever you have going on is only going to hurt you in the long run, so you resolve to tell him everything the next time you see him.
Keeley’s wise words from the car and the glass of water she gave you before she left after confirming no less than ten times that you were okay have you sobering up rather quickly. You’re left feeling embarrassed and exhausted to the bone, wanting nothing more than to lay down in your bed and stay there for the next hundred years, but suddenly there’s a knock at your door and Jamie’s standing outside.
“Keeley let me in, hope that’s ok,” he tells you, seeming slightly uncomfortable and you briefly wonder if it’s because of your puffy eyes and slightly disheveled appearance, embarrassment coursing hot through your blood. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”
Jamie always keeps you on your toes, and though you know this isn’t a big deal, it warms your heart all the same. Jamie Tartt, drama queen footballer and prick reality star, is at your front door to see if you’re ok because you left a bar crying. You’d promised yourself that the next time you saw Jamie, you’d sit him down and talk about your feelings, vowing that you wouldn’t hide them anymore.
But here Jamie is, being all sweet and concerned, and that plan goes out the window. There’s just something about him that makes all the sense leave your body, so instead of having a conversation about your feelings you pull him down by his shoulders and kiss him.
It’s messy and desperate, and even though you’ve sobered up since leaving the bar, your head is spinning and your thoughts are starting to become consumed with Jamie. There’s a weight behind it this time, one that you’re sure the both of you are aware of, because Jamie’s hands are gripping your waist with a bruising force and you barely even pull away from him to breathe.
Both of you know something is going to change.
As you make your way to your bedroom, clothing is thrown down the hallway, a sock here and a shoe there, until you almost trip trying to remove your pants. Luckily for you, though, after what seemed like a miles long walk, you finally reached your bedroom door.
Jamie pushes you gently inside, breaking the kiss but staying close enough to breathe the same air, and he keeps pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fall onto it with a sound of surprise. Jamie just smiles, but it’s soft in a way that makes your insides melt and not the cocky smile he has whenever he scores a goal.
You scramble to sit up, to take your shirt off, but your brain shuts off when you see Jamie get on his knees in front of you. More gently than you ever could have imagined, he tugs on the hem of your pants, bringing them down your hips until you need to push off of the bed to get them down the rest of the way. He continues to pull until they slip free of your feet, and by the time he’s standing again you’re throwing yourself upward to kiss him.
There’s just something about him that makes you want to be near him all the time, like a moth to the flame. It doesn’t feel self destructive though, and that’s what scares you. It scares you that you might be hurting yourself without knowing but it scares you more that this might not hurt you at all.
It’s always a little shocking to you just how gentle Jamie is, the soft way he cradles your jaw when he kisses you and the way he runs his hands up and down your back when he can tell everything is starting to get overwhelming. Of course, he can be plenty rough and you have the bite marks on your thighs and the hickeys on your chest to prove it, but it seems like it’s in his nature to be soft with you.
“You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, fingers playing gentling with the hem of your shirt.
“100%,” you reply, and give him a quick kiss to reaffirm your statement. Now, he wastes no time in pulling off your shirt and starting to remove his own clothes. It makes you pause, standing there by the foot of your bed in the process of removing your bra, because suddenly he’s shirtless and it never gets any less surprising despite the many times you’ve been in this situation.
It’s not like your being subtle in your ogling, and Jamie just smirks when he sees you staring. He pushes you back onto the bed, softer this time, and you scoot yourself backwards until your head is resting on the pillows. Jamie joins you, pushing your legs open wider so there's room for him to lay in between them.
Then, you’re almost certain you’ve died and gone to heaven because he’s slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugging them over your hips and down your thighs. You’re absolutely no help, lying there pliant for him to maneuver however he sees fit because you’re fully convinced your brain has stopped working.
It’s a little startling, how well Jamie knows your body. He always knows the right pressure and movement and location to make you see stars, make your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drop open. You’d think that he’d be all bark and no bite, but it’s so clear to you now that he has the skills to back up his attitude.
You have the bite marks to prove it.
Your fingers are itching for something to grab onto, something more substantial than grasping at your bedsheets, so you gently twist Jamie’s hair around your fingers, just enough to ground you, to keep you anchored to your body when you feel like you’re seconds from floating away.
It feels too good, too overwhelming, you’re unable to control any of the sounds that come out of your mouth. Jamie’s hands are gripping, digging into the flesh of your thighs and it stings where his fingernails dig in but it’s so perfect you can’t help the way you whine.
The connection between your brain and your mouth must be severed because you keep babbling away about how good, how perfect everything feels. You’re not thinking at all, only able to focus on the feelings building deep in your belly until Jamie licks at your clit with the perfect amount of pressure and you just fucking lose it. Your mouth drops open and you’re completely unaware of the sounds that come pouring out of your mouth until, “I fucking love you.”
It’s like you’ve been doused in a bucket of ice water and Jamie’s pulling away and you’re fucking terrified and the pleasure that’s been building inside your body is completely replaced with dread. After you feel Jamie pulling back, you turn your gaze from the ceiling down to between your legs where Jamie still lies.
He just grins, looking like sin himself with your slick making his mouth all shiny and glossy. And then he gets right back to work, nipping at your inner thigh before doubling down his attention, working twice as hard and you don’t even remember what you’ve said because you’re thrown headfirst back into the intensity of Jamie’s full skill and attention.
It’s only seconds later when you’re almost certain that you’ve died, feeling like an exploding star as your back arches off the bed and you dig your fingers harder into Jamie’s hair and your mouth falls open again. When you regain your sense of existence, your body feels tingly all over as if the remnants of your orgasm are still coursing through your veins.
Breathing hard, you look down to see Jamie resting his head on one of your thighs, just waiting for you to come down from your high. He places a kiss over one of the marks he made on your inner thigh before he crawls up the bed to plant a soft kiss on your lips.
He disappears after that, and you’re a little worried that he’s left you like this before he comes back a few minutes later, with a glass of water and a plate of snacks. The thought of him trifling through your cupboard makes your heart stutter a little and you’re so overwhelmed with feelings that you can only manage to give him a small smile in thanks.
The two of you sit quietly side by side on your bed, eating the snacks Jamie had brought. He checks in on you again and again, making sure you’re totally comfortable. And then, he clears his throat and shifts around, looking uncomfortable and you can feel your heart rising into your throat, dread gripping at your stomach.
“Are we gonna talk about what you said?” He asks, tracing shapes on the bare skin of your knee as he talks and looks anywhere but your face.
“I think I meant it,” you tell him, feeling as if your whole world is crashing down around you. There are other important things in your life, work and friends and family, but there’s something about Jamie that even after the limited time you’ve had together, the thought of losing him makes you sick to your stomach.
“Good, that’s good to know.” He goes quiet for a moment but his fingers never still in their drawing, “I think so too.”
“Good,” you tell him with a smile, one that he returns and it makes you want to cry because he’s so gorgeous and wonderful and you won’t be losing him after all, there’s a hope for you, a future, and that’s all you need.
You know nothing is certain and there are plenty of things that could go wrong, but you try to bask in the afterglow of what’s been confessed the same way you’d lay in the sunshine. You feel warm and happy and you’re determined to hang onto those feelings, to enjoy the time you spend with Jamie instead of worrying that everything will come crashing down.
There’s just something about him, something that makes your worrying come to a pause whenever you’re with him. He brings you an unexpected sort of peace, one that you vow to enjoy now that you’re not worrying when it will disappear, when he’ll disappear. For once, that feeling in your chest isn’t one of anxiety but one that you’re convinced is love.
You love Jamie Tartt, and that thought isn’t as scary as it once was.
Tags: @andr0medafallen @pazvizslasprincess @scaramou @parcelofbread @lightninginab0ttle @curlypeter @maggiecc @percysaidnever
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midnightfictionlibrary · 10 months
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Tennessee Whiskey - Jamie TarttxFem!Reader
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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. 
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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. 
838 notes · View notes
ameenvie · 7 months
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I Think He Knows - Jamie Tartt x fem!Reader
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masterlist | ao3 | ko-fi | fic recs
"his hands around a cold glass makes me wanna know that body like it's mine"
Word count: 4.6k Warnings: nsfw, smut, minors DNI! kind of angry sex, unprotected sex (wouldn't recommend irl), oral(male receiving), fingering, p in v sex, praise kink, dirty talk, slightly dom!Jamie(?), hickeys, possessiveness Tags: smut Prompt/Summary: You go out to get your mind off work and Jamie - but to your surprise he shows up at the same bar as you. Things happen. Put me in horny jail. A/N: This is the first smut I've written in a hot minute, and my first ever Jamie fic, so I just hope it doesn't suck! 😭❤ I still have to get the hang of how to write him. Maybe the intro/non-smut part is a bit too long, but idk I kept rewriting this so much. :') I hope you enjoy nevertheless! ❤❤❤
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It felt like thousands of hammers were beating down onto your head. You were staring at your computer screen, trying to grasp what you were looking at, but the stress, the flickering office lights, and the constant noises of talking made it impossible.
“I need a break” you exclaimed as you promptly stood up from your desk. The conversation next to you came to a halt as Keeley gave you a worried look.
“Are you alright, babe?”
“Sure, I just need a little fresh air” you answered with a sweet smile. Even though Keeley was your boss, she was also one of your best friends, and you were thankful to the universe that you met her.
You were the social media manager at KJPR responsible for the AFC Richmond brand. And as fun and exciting as it was, there were moments when you just wanted to run away and never look back. Such as today.
The team had a new brand partnership deal, and few of the players had to post to their socials about certain products. It was really nothing extraordinary, but it was a big brand so it was crucial that everything was on schedule. Now you were in the reporting phase, and you haven’t received the necessary info from one of the players yet. As you stood outside the office building, leaning against the wall, you picked your phone out of your pocket and dialed him. It rang once, twice… and he hang up on you. You rolled your eyes and cursed under your breath as you headed back to your desk.
“Need any help?” Keeley asked with the sweetest, most concerned voice you’ve ever heard, but you just shook your head.
“Nothing I can’t handle! I’m headed to the dog track if that’s alright. I need to take care of something.”
“Give ‘em hell!” she replied and left you alone.
You jumped into your car and drove over to Nelson Road, where you knew the boys had their training at the moment. The man at the front desk recognized you and let you in, and you headed to Rebecca’s office first to say hello, then went to the stands and took a seat to wait until the team was finished with practice. When Ted noticed you, he gave you that huge moustachy smile of his and waved at you. You mirrored the gesture before your gaze wandered back to the players.
You sat close enough to the pitch to make out his facial expression when he saw you. First, he seemed annoyed, then he gave you the most dramatic eyeroll you’ve ever seen before he ran away laughing.
You weren’t sure what he expected your reaction to be, but you knew you just looked annoyed.
“Whistle! WHISTLE!” You heard coach Kent scream at the players, and you chuckled. The team gathered around the coaches then made a beeline towards the changing room. You knew this was your cue to follow them as well.
You leaned against the wall as you waited for Jamie, hugging your bag. Of course because he was aware that you were waiting for him, he’d be dead last to leave. You weren’t sure if it was against your person or just the fact that he hated to cooperate. Maybe both. A few of the players started to leave and they waved and smiled at you as hey passed.
After what seemed like an eternity, he finally stepped out of the locker room – as you predicted – dead last. He stopped in the doorway with his hands in his pocket.
“I tried to call you.”
“I know” was all he said, and you raised your eyebrows at him. He was so cocky, you kind of wanted to punch him in the face, but that wouldn’t look too good on your resume.
“Alright, I guess you were busy then.”
“Nah, not really” he answered, and you saw a shit-eating grin spread on his face. God, Jamie.
“Look, I hope you don’t think I enjoy this, but I need the results of the campaign, okay? And you can only blame yourself, because you are the one who insisted that nobody can manage your account other than you. It would make all our lives much easier if I could just check the data myself.” You knew you were rambling and maybe talking a little too fast, showing how annoyed you were. You didn’t like giving people the satisfaction of knowing they got under your skin, but Jamie was world class at that.
“A’ight” he mumbled and started searching for his phone, then handed it to you. “If you want to check it so bad, go on, be my guest.”
You swore your eyes shot daggers at him. You grabbed his phone and took a seat on the bench next to you. He followed suit without a word, hands in his pockets.
You unlocked his phone and opened Instagram, but as you were navigating through it you saw a notification pop up from a girl with a text saying: “try me 😘”. Just a tiny glance at her profile picture was enough for you to conclude that she was gorgeous, and you felt your stomach do a flip. Were you… jealous? Of one of Jamie’s flings? C’mon.
You shook your head as if you could shake the thought out of it as you proceeded to check the necessary info. You didn’t realize, but while you were doing this, Jamie’s eyes searched your face like it held the answer to the universe’s biggest question.
You sent yourself a mail from his phone and shoved it back at him. He looked at you with a look you’ve never saw on his face before, and you could swear for a second that it was guilt sitting in his eyes.
“Thanks for nothing” you said as you grabbed your bag and left.
“Nice seeing you too!” he shouted as you slammed the door behind you. Your blood was boiling in your veins as you were walking back to your office. You dropped yourself onto your chair and buried your face in your palms. What a fucking day. He always finds a way to mess with your head. The sounds of Keeley knocking on your door snapped you out of it.
“Come in” you sighed as you looked at her with a defeated expression.
“Jamie again?” she asked sympathetically as she sat down in front of you.
“Always” you scoffed and started fiddling with a pen on your desk. He’s taking the piss out of me, always trying to get under my skin!” Keeley didn’t say anything, she just gave you a knowing look. “Stop looking at me like that, I know what you want to say!”
“I’m not saying anything” she replied and locked her mouth with an imaginary key and threw it away.
“That’s what I thought” you chuckled and took a deep breath. “I’ll be done with this by the end of the day, and then we can open your not-so-secret stash of champagne in your office, what do you say?”
“Sounds perfect, love!” As she left your office you delved into your work and tried not to think of Jamie. It was so silly – you thought. You felt like you were in school, arguing with yourself about your feelings, and having a crush on the guy who pulled on your ponytail. There was no way you were jealous right? Jamie was insufferable in general – cocky, arrogant, full of himself. Hard to work with. Attention seeking. But he had his moments where he was also funny. Caring. Honest. Compassionate. He was an amazing footballer.
You groaned out loud. You were wrapping up your day as you decided you’re going to put an end to this madness. You went home, picked out a nice dress – nothing too fancy, but it still made you feel like a million bucks. You called yourself an uber and asked them to bring you to one of your favourite bars. You were excited to finally grab a few drinks and let your hair down for a night, and maybe even go home with someone handsome to take your mind off your annoying feelings that started to bubble to the surface.
You took a seat at the bar and ordered your favourite drink. The bartender winked at you, and you chuckled. You propped yourself up on your elbow and started to look around. People were mingling, talking, laughing. Some couples were hiding in the more secluded corners of the room, whispering sweet nothings to each other.
You got your order but before you could thank the bartender for it, you heard a voice all too familiar.
“That’s on me. And another one, will ya’?” You turned around to face him as he was smiling down at you. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes locked with his – you could never exactly pinpoint what colour they were, sometimes they seemed blue, sometimes grey, even green. You felt like you could stare at them forever. This wasn’t happening. You weren’t even sure if you ever saw him out and about like this. Instead of his usual tracksuit or puffy west he was wearing a white button-down shirt, with a few of its buttons unbuttoned, its sleeves rolled up, showing his tattoos. His hair was let loose, and a few strands fell into his eyes. You felt your heart drop into your stomach, and you were so shocked you couldn’t think of a single word to say, like your brain just short-circuited.
“Wow, Jamie, so nice to see you here, what a lovely coincidence! Come, join me for a drink!” he said, grounding you back to earth.
“Very funny. What are you doing here?” The words came out a little more accusatory than you meant, but you couldn’t help yourself. You came here to take your mind off him, and here he was, hotter than ever, standing so close to you that the scent of his cologne made you feel lightheaded. You wished the earth would just open up and swallow you whole.
“Just blowing off some steam. Celebrating my free weekend, I guess.” He shrugged.
“Alone?” Your question seemed to catch him off guard, as he raised his eyebrows. Your answer was just another shrug. “I see, I see, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I know how this goes.” You waved with your hands in front of you, like you could shoo the image of him with other women out of your brain. You felt like you were going insane. In the meantime, he got his own drink, and he nursed it on the bar top with his left hand, the other in his pocket as he faced you. He looked even more gorgeous than usual, the way the shirt hugged his muscles ignited a flame in your body you never wanted to acknowledge.
“You know you’re being very judgmental now despite the fact, that you are alone as well.”
“I mean, it’s not my DMs that are full of gorgeous woman inviting me to tango” you scoffed, but immediately after you said the words out loud you scolded yourself internally for sounding so pathetic. Fucking hell.
“Are you jealous, love?” He grinned as he took a sip out of his drink. You rolled your eyes and stood up from your seat, but not before you managed to take a peek of how his lips touched the glass as he drank, and how perfect his jawline looked as he tilted his head slightly. FUCK.
“Maybe in your dreams, Tartt.”
“The lady doth protest too much” he laughed. You were quite shocked that Jamie Tartt out of all people would quote Shakespeare to you, but you were too angry to acknowledge that. You shook your head and turned your back on him, trying to get away, anywhere. You walked to the back of the big room and found yourself in a smaller conversation room – it was empty.
You took a deep breath, and you turned on your heels to head for another, more populated spot, but as you opened the door he stood there, one hand leaning against the doorframe, his drink in the other. He seemed like he was thinking.
“Jamie, I swear to God-” You couldn’t finish your sentence because he pushed himself into the room with you. You felt your heartbeat in your throat and heard it drumming loudly in your ears. He was so close. You closed the door behind him, and you only realized what that suggested after you saw his cocky smile. You didn’t immediately leave the room. You stayed there with him. It was painful to admit – even just to yourself -, but you wanted to be there with him.
He stepped closer, practically caging you between the door and his body. You felt your heart racing and your head spin as you looked up at his gorgeous face. Neither of you said anything, you were just searching his face, eyes darting between his gaze and his lips as you weren’t sure what to do. You didn’t realize he was looking at your lips as well, his breath fanning your face. He slowly leaned in; his lips were barely hovering above yours. Your heartbeat went into full overdrive, and you let his lips linger there for a second before you closed the gap and kissed him.
It all seemed to happen so fast you weren’t even sure it was real. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried one of your hands in his hair as he was locking the door behind you. In any other circumstances he would be fuming about you ruining his hair, but not now. His hands were tracing your body as he pulled you into him – from your back to your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake before they finally settled on your bottom as he pulled you even closer. Your nerves were on fire, and you felt waves of arousal wash over you.
When you broke away to get some air, he wasted no time and started to plant small kisses on your cheek, slowly moving to your throat before settling at the soft spot between your neck and clavicle. You moaned his name which made him smile against your skin. You couldn't help but smile too. Somewhere a tiny voice in the back of your mind scolded you for being so euphoric about this whole situation, but you didn’t care. All you cared about is Jamie’s lips on you and the way his hand sneaked under your dress and drew hot circles on your skin.
“My name never sounded so pretty before” he mused before he pushed the strap of your dress aside to kiss a mark onto your skin just above your breast. Your breath hitched as you tried to make him stop.
“Stop it, people will see” you whined, which just encouraged him even more. You felt the prickling sensation on your skin, you were sure he’s going to leave a mark. When he finished, he adored his masterpiece before planting a soft kiss on the red spot he left behind.
“Maybe I want that, love” he whispered against your ear as he caressed your thighs. “I want everyone to see that you’re my girl.”
The sudden possessiveness caught you off guard and you let out a small whimper. Your common sense was thrown out of the window a while ago and at that moment that was all you wanted as well – everyone to see that you were his girl. He stopped for a second to look into your eyes. He placed his hands on your cheeks and pulled you in for another kiss. You saw stars as he kissed you with the passion of a starved man, his tongue gently caressing your lips before he went all in.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, and in a second, he lifted you by your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his hips which caused one of your shoes to fall off as he started to back towards the sofa. While doing so, he bumped into the small table, knocking his drink over. You both chuckled before he finally sat down, with you straddling him.
Your dress was ridden all the way up your thighs, making your black lace panties visible, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Jamie. His gaze seemed hungry, like he was ready to devour you any second, and you felt the heat creeping up to your ears.
“I see someone was planning on getting laid tonight” he said teasingly.
“Oh, fuck off, Jamie!”
“C’mon love I’m just messing with ya” he smiled at you before he put his hand on the back of your head and pulled you in for another kiss. He was smiling into it, the bastard. In this position you couldn’t help but feel his bulge press against you, which made your blood boil in your veins. You wanted him so bad. You let out a shaky breath as you unconsciously started to grind yourself against his clothed length. Jamie moaned under you, and he furrowed his brows like he was trying to focus on the sensation, nothing else.
You slowly unbuttoned his shirt, leaving kisses on his chest as you progressed, and when you finished you slightly pushed it off his shoulders. You were mad for him, and even though you didn’t want to admit, you wanted nothing more than him fucking you right then and there. Little did you know that Jamie was feeling the same.
He looked at you with those gorgeous puppy eyes and you couldn’t help yourself anymore. You planted open mouthed kisses on his sharp jawline, neck, down his chest. You felt bold all of a sudden, and started to suck a mark onto his neck, which he rewarded with a groan. You took a second to examine the red mark you left on his skin before you licked it softly to ease the pain left in its wake. Jamie was a moaning mess under you, bucking his hips into you involuntarily, his hands gripping your thighs for dear life. You felt bold, wanted, sexy. Like a million bucks.
“Jamie, I want you to fuck me” you whispered into his ear, and you thought his soul left his body in that second.
“Fucking hell, angel” he answered and instantly one of his hands was in your hair, pulling you into another kiss, his other hand pushing your dress higher on your body, until your whole ass was exposed. “Such a greedy lil’ thing, aren’t ya?”
He looked at your dampened underwear as he hovered his finger over it, then swiped one big stroke from your entrance to your clit through the damp fabric. You shut your eyes and threw your head back from the sensation. Finally feeling his touch on you was like heaven. The flames of need were eating away at your body, and you weren’t sure how long you can stand the teasing.
“Please, Jamie”
“You’re fucking cute when you beg” he said, a cocky grin on his face, but before you could say anything, he hooked one of his fingers into your panties, and pulled them aside, exposing you completely. You felt flustered, your confidence wavered. He didn’t leave you time to overthink, because he pushed one of his fingers into you without any difficulty. You let out a moan which he mirrored before he spoke. “Shit, all this for me? I don’t deserve you.”
“You’re damn right you don’t” you chuckled as he started to pump his finger into you, before quickly adding another one. He smiled at you as you rested your forehead against his, slowly riding on his fingers. With his free hand he managed to pull down the strap of your dress enough to free your breast and he started to kiss and nib on your sensitive skin, leaving another hickey just above your nipple.
You hissed at the sensation and bucked your hip a bit harder, making him press into you deeper. Jamie’s fingers felt like they were made for you, and he damn well knew how to use them. As you started to ride him a bit harder, he started to curl his fingers inside you to press against your sweet spot and started circling his thumb against your clit with just the right amount of pressure, it made you see stars. You were a moaning, whimpering mess as his fingers fucked you senseless, pushing deeper and deeper with every movement.
“I know, love” he whispered between kisses. You bit down on his lower lip before you tongues started to dance around each other, and he moved his free hand to cradle your breast and caress your hardened nipple. It was all too much – his lips on yours, his hand on your tit and his fingers fucking you like there was no tomorrow.
You felt tension build in your body, your nerves wind up, ready to be released any second. You started riding his fingers harder and faster, chasing that high you felt was so close.
“C’mon angel, come for me, that’s it. That’s my good girl” he whispered against your lips, and just after a few more pumps of his fingers you came crashing hard with Jamie’s name falling from your lips like a prayer, your veins filled with fire as your vision turned white.
He wrapped you in his arms and started to draw circles on your bare back as you came down from your high while he placed small kisses into the crook of your neck and on your temple. After a minute of collecting yourself, you sat up and kissed him again as you started to undo his belt. You definitely weren’t unaware of the huge bulge in his pants, and you wanted to ease his suffering.
He just watched you do it, with one of his arms spread across the back of the sofa. He looked mesmerized by how beautiful you were. After you finished with his belt you undid the buttons of his slacks and pulled them down with his underwear. He just watched you and you could swear he was holding his breath.
You bit your lip as you took the view in, before you started slowly stroking his hard member. He threw his head back and he moved his hand to caress your cheek. You continued to slowly jerk him off, but you couldn’t help yourself. You licked the tip of his dick, and you made it a show. It was slow, sensual, and you looked at him for the whole time. When he caught your eyes he let out a shaky breath and involuntarily bucked his hips towards your face.
You swiped your tongue against his shaft before you took him fully into your mouth and started bobbing your head. His hand moved to tangle in your hair as he guided your rhythm slowly. He moaned under your touch, loving the way your lips felt around him. You started to pick up your pace a little and he rolled his hips against your face. His hand started to push you deeper onto his cock, and the feeling of his length in your throat made your eyes swell up, and you moaned around him.
“C’mon love” he said and guided you away from him, back onto his lap. You straddled him again, his now bare dick pressed against your wet pussy, and you saw stars from the sensation. “Maybe next time we’ll finish that, yeah? But now I want all of you” he said as he aligned himself to your entrance.
Next time was all you heard in your head. You leaned down to kiss him before you slowly lowered yourself onto him. You relished in the sensation of his cock filling and stretching you inch by inch, it was delicious. Jamie’s lips parted slightly as he threw his head back, enjoying the moment just as much as you did. As he bottomed out, you kept still for a second, barely moving before starting to roll your hips, slowly lifting yourself before coming down again.
“Jamie” you whined, and you held onto his shoulders for dear life as you rode him. His fingers dug into your skin at your hips where he held you. You moved so perfectly in sync it was like you were made for each other, the way he rolled his hips into you made you see stars.
“So good for me, love. Taking me so well, my good girl” he whispered against your lips after he sat up, wrapped you into a tight hug and kissed you. He swiped his tongue against your swollen lips, and you bit down on his. You dug your fingers into his hair as you started moving faster and faster, getting overwhelmed by the sensation.
Jamie moved his hand from your hair to your cheek, swiping your lips with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth. You licked it slowly before he pulled it away and moved it to your swollen clit. You gasped at the perfect feeling of his finger being on you again, before he started to circle his thumb around the sensitive bud. You felt your walls tighten around him, which ripped a moan from his lungs. He never stopped his movements, he fucked into you like he never wanted anything else.
“Taking me so well, babe. So tight for me” he whispered against your burning skin. His words poisoned your mind, and they ran through your veins, igniting everything inside you. You buried your head into his shoulder as you felt your climax approaching. He was filling you up so perfectly, his dick hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. He was gripping your thigh so hard you wondered if it’s going to leave a mark. You kind of hoped it would. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, and his name fell from your lips like a prayer.
“Jamie, I-“ you gasped and you dug your nails into his shoulders.
“That’s it, angel. Come for me” he moaned against your ear and you knew he held himself back. You rolled your hips against him once, twice, all your nerves wind up before they inevitably snapped, and another orgasm washed over you. You moaned into Jamie’s mouth – your vision went white, your muscles clenched around him as you came, which gave him what he needed to reach his own high as well, hugging you tightly onto him. The silence in the room felt deafening all of a sudden. You nuzzled your face into the crook of Jamie’s neck, and he started to slowly caress your hair as he hugged you close.
After your nerves calmed down a bit you started to collect yourself and he helped you to clean up the mess. He took your hand and kissed you, before looking into your eyes.
“So… do you want to get out of here?” His grin was the widest you’ve ever seen and you laughed.
“Yeah, sure” you chuckled as he wrapped his arm around you.
***
The next morning you woke up to your phone ringing. It was Keeley.
“Yeah?” you asked in a sleepy voice, looking over at Jamie who was laying next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist. You were in his bed. He was already awake, looking at you with a sheepish smile.
“So, I know you don’t want to talk about this” Keeley started, her energy through the roof, she spoke so fast you barely had time to acknowledge her words, “but I think you should talk to Jamie. You should tell him you’re into him!” A very telling laugh found its way past your lips before you spoke and you heard an audible gasp on the other side of the line.
“I think he knows” you said to Keeley while looking at Jamie, who was now chuckling next to you as he kissed your free hand.
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axelsagewrites · 7 months
Text
Jamie Tartt*The Bet
Pairing: Jamie x f!reader
Word count: 5794
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Warnings: jamie asking the reader out as a bet, prick jamie in the beginning, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, angst, a lot of fucks but this is Ted Lasso
Materlist here
“mate do you know who I am?” Jamie said, gesturing to himself as he Issac and Collin sat in the back corner of a crowded nightclub, “I’m telling you man I could get any girl in here. Guy too if I really wanted,”
“please bruv,” Issac scoffed, rolling his eyes. They were used to Jamie being a cocky prick on the field but after a few too many beers and Issac getting rejected twice in one night he was bitter and felt the need to prove something, “all you do is get laid. You’ve not had a girlfriend in like ever,” he said making Jamie roll his eyes this time.
“at least I can get laid. Getting a girlfriends easy,” Jamie said.
“nah he’s right mate,” Collin pipped up making Jamie roll his eyes yet again, “getting laid’s the easy bit, you can’t make them stick around,”
“Keeley stuck around,” Jamie tried to argue but this time his teammates just laughed, “what?”
“all yous did was hookup it’s not like yous were proper dating,” Issac said, Collin nodding in agreement, “face it Jamie girls only talk to you for sex,”
Jamie scoffed at the pair but the more he thought about it he was wondering if they were right. Sure, he and Keeley had been together for a few months before they split but every time, they saw each other it always ended in sex. Now he was thinking about it he wasn’t sure if he had taken her on an actual date the whole time, “if I wanted to, I could have a girlfriend,”
“prove it,” Collin said making even Issac raise an eyebrow, “if you can date a girl for a month and get her to be your girlfriend by the end of it, I’ll give you my car,” Issac let out a low whistle as Jamie laughed. Was he seriously considering this? A new car did sound nice though, “but no sex,”
“what?” Jamie said, well almost shouted as he ignored the confused looks from those around, “no sex for a month?”
“what are you some kind of addict?” Issac scoffed at the man, “Collins right. One month, no sex, serious commitment. Then you get his car,”
Jamie shook his head, scoffing as he leant back in his seat. He ignored the probing and teasing of his mates as he considered it for a moment. Sure, he could buy a new car but the feeling of driving Collins car to practise would be pretty sweet, “fine you’re on,” he said suddenly making both boys head snap around.
Collin for a second looked unsure before he added his final stipulation, “but we get to pick the girl,”
Issac and Collin had insisted you don’t find a girlfriend in a club so by the end of practise tomorrow they would assign Jamie his target. When the two came up to him in the locker room after practise Jamie almost regretted the bet when he saw their grin. “we’ve found her,” Issac said.
“the perfect girl,” Collin added, “oh and I’ve decided if I win, I get your car,”
Jamie shrugged as he stood from the bench, “fine deals a deal. Who’s the girl?”
When Issac pulled out his phone for a second Jamie almost felt bad. Almost. He recognised who the insta belonged to instantly. You were Rebecca’s personal assistant, so it was not rare for Jamie to see you floating around Richmond, but he’d never seen your insta before. “no sex yeah?” He said, taking the phone from Issacs hand to look through your pics, “bummer but a deals a deal. Its gonna feel so sweet driving that Lambo,” he grinned as he tossed the phone back to Issac.
“you’ve got a week to ask her out or you instantly fail the challenge,” Issac said, “and as the one not putting his car on the line I’m the captain of this bet,” Jamie rolled his eyes as Issac proceeded to lay down the law, “and if we find out you lied about any after date activities or skipped a date with her then you lose and will owe a fine of £1000,”
Jamie scoffed, gesturing like Issac was a mad man, “whatcha gonna do? Stalk me or some shit?”
“she’s pals with Sam so he’ll tell us,” Collin said before his eyes went wide, “which reminds me no one but us three can know,” he said before glancing around the locker room, “it’s a secret,” he whispered.
Jamie rolled his eyes before pushing past them both, “whatevs boys. Don’t worry I won’t gloat too much when I win,” he grinned as he walked out the locker room leaving everyone, but Issac and Collin confused.
It was as if as soon as the bet started you had disappeared. Jamie was used to seeing you running all over the place but the one time he saw you the first three days was you driving off in your beat-up car. For a second, he thought Rebecca should be paying you better. It didn’t help that each time either of his friends saw him they reminded him the clock was ticking.
On Thursday however when Jamie saw you walk past the gym door, he quickly dropped his weights, running out the room with no thought or care for Roy shouting after him to rerack his weights. You were heading in the directions of the locker room and Jamie saw this as the perfect excuse as he jogged up to your side, “looking for me,” he said making you jump, almost dropping your clipboard.
“Christ Jamie you scared me,” you said, trying to catch your breath and also not make a complete fool out of yourself. “but no, I’m looking for ted. Rebecca needs him to sign something,”
“funny that most girls want my autograph not his,” Jamie said, trying to put on his best charismatic laugh but when you only gave a small chuckle and not a giggle like he was used to him thought he may have to change tactics. “I’ll walk ya. I’ve gotta grab something from my locker anyhow,”
“that’s nice but you don’t have to,” you said, giving him a small smile as you clutched the clipboard close to your chest.
In truth while you were trying to stay professional right now you did have a secret crush on the famous football player. Yes, you knew it was cliche and you knew Jamie flirted with every woman on the planet which is why you were trying to not fall for his adorable smile right now, “ah come on let me keep you company,” Jamie laughed, knocking his shoulder into you, “gets lonely walking these halls,”
You laughed at his dumb attempts at flirting and hated how easily you were falling for it, “ah yes the three-minute walk might be the end of me,”
“good thing you’ve got me to keep ya going love,” he joked.
This banter and small talk were the longest conversation you think you’d ever had with Jamie, and you couldn’t help but notice that while ted was signing the papers, he hadn’t actually grabbed anything from his lockers. “tell you what love,” Jamie said as he held the locker room door open for you, “I’ll even walk you back to where I found you,”
“oh, wow Jamie Tartt, such a gentleman,” you joked.
As you neared the gym again, laughing at one of Jamies dumb flirty jokes you bumped into Sam who said hello with a very concerned look on his face. After he said goodbye to you and you headed back to your office he turned to Jamie with a far more serious look, “what do you think you’re doing?”
“eh nothing?” He said, completely caught off guard by the seriousness in Sams tone.
Sam sighed and stepped in closer to Jamie, “it better be nothing. She is a good girl she doesn’t deserve to have her heart played with,”
“calm down Sam I’ve no done anything,” Jamie said as he tried to get past his teammate, but Sam grabbed his arm to stop him, “seriously man I’m not gonna hurt her,”
“Jamie, I know what you’re like. And that’s fine you can do you. But I won’t let you hurt my friend,” Sam said sternly.
Jamie rolled his eyes as he took Sams hand off his arm, “for your information. I’m a changed man. I plan on being the perfect gentleman from now on, alright?” He said but Sam just narrowed his eyes, “honest man. Getting bored of all this casual pish ya know?” Jamie said as he stuck his hands into his short’s pockets.
It wasn’t fully a lie. Jamie had been getting bored of all the one-night stands and the drama that came along but Sam just narrowed his eyes further before silently heading back to the gym. Jamie rolled his eyes as he followed along and headed to jump on an exercise bike, ignoring how Sam had gone to go whisper to Issac.
A knock on your office door made you look up with a smile, “hey Sam, you alright?” You asked as you shut down your laptop for the day.
“yes of course,” he said as he walked into your office and slumped down onto the chair in front of your desk, “just wanted to see my friend, is that a crime?”
“I’ll allow it,” you laughed as you packed your bag, “you need a lift home?” You asked as you grabbed your car keys.
“I wouldn’t say no,” he grinned as he jumped right back out the chair and you both began your decent to the car park, “but I was wanting to talk to you about something,”
“what’s up?” You said as you locked your office door.
Sam sighed as he followed you through the corridors, “what’s happening with you and Jamie?”
You shrugged, honestly not sure yourself what was happening, “nothing really, we were just talking. Did he say something or?” You asked.
“kind of,” Sam said, his face screwing up for a second, “he said he was a gentleman now, but I worry. I don’t want you getting hurt,”
“I’m a big girl Sam,” you joked, nudging him, and making him laugh, “besides he’s Jamie tart. I doubt he meant it,”
“according to Issac he does,” Sam said which honestly made you more surprised than anything. You spoke to Issac even less than you had Jamie, so it was weird to think of him and Jamie having deep conversations about settling down, “apparently, he wants to settle down or something. I don’t know whether to believe it but why would Issac lie?”
“weird,” you muttered as you and Sam finally reached the car park and he held the door for you to slip out, “besides that doesn’t mean he wants to be with me,”
“don’t put yourself down,” Sam said, nudging you with his elbow as he sent you a reassuring smile, “he’d be lucky to even get one date with you,”
“you have to say that” you said as you rolled your eyes and pulled out your car keys.
As you were unlocking your car the door to the car park opened again and out walked a freshly showered Jamie, his hair still clearly damp. He didn’t have a right to look this attractive you thought but you’d been looking for too long as when Jamie looked up, he caught your stare.
He waved with a wide grin as he headed over to his own car across the lot. You gave a small wave back as you slipped into the driver’s seat. You glanced across through Sams window to see he was still looking at you and you prayed to god he couldn’t see how flustered you were as you tried to start the car. Sam had seen though, and merciless teasing followed you the whole drive back to his house.
Jamie figured he had time, so he spent the next two days flirting with you in the corridors despite Issac and Collin reminding him he only had to Sunday. However, Sunday was matchday and you were always in the owner’s box with Rebecca. While she was your boss you had grown quite close, so you often sat wedged between her and Keeley as you tried to keep up with the team.
“did Jamie just wave to you?” Keeley asked as Jamie ran onto the pitch. Your blush was undisguisable as you tried to shrug it off, “omg babes you fancy him?” She practically squealed as she clutched your arm.
“maybe I don’t know,” you said, hating the way his name was already making you smile. “he’s your ex though so- “
“nah babes go for it. I’ve got Roy now. Oh, we could double date how cute!” The rest of the match was spent with Keeley telling you how perfect it would be, and you figured if his ex-spoke so highly of him then how bad could he be?
The match went smashing with Richmond winning three nil and soon you were in the press room stood next to Rebecca as ted got interviewed and you took notes. You looked up confused when Rebecca nudged you, but she just nodded towards the door. When you looked through the window you saw Jamie lent against the wall by the door and when you looked back to Rebecca she just smirked and nudged you towards the door.
You silently chuckled at the fact she’d obviously listened to yours and Keeley’s conversation as you made your way to talk to Jamie. “hey,” you grinned, shutting the door behind you softly. “you did great out there,”
“was easy with you cheering me on,” he smirked as he started walking down the corridor with you following after him.
“who said I was cheering for you?” You joked.
Jamie held a hand to his heart in mock offence, “love you’re breaking my heart here. Here I was coming to ask if you wanted to go celebrate my glorious victory,”
“cocky much?” You laughed but rolled your eyes at the way he smirked, “fuck off not like that,”
“didn’t say a thing,” Jamie shrugged but the devious smile on his lips said something different. “c’mon whatcha say love?”
You paused for a moment, crossing your arms as you turned to face him, “what did you have in mind?”
“you, me, fancy restaurant,” Jamie said, stepping closer, his finger brushing over your cheek so gently it felt like a feather, “some nice wine. Just some wholesome fun,”
“wholesome fun?” You laughed, trying not to get lost in his eyes. It was unfair this allure he had on you.
Jamie chuckled softly, “course babe,” the pet names sounded so good coming from him and his accent, “haven’t you heard? I’m a gentleman now,” he said, his hand falling from your face making you miss his touch but laugh at the way he placed his hand over his heart, “scouts honour,”
“were you even a scout?” You laughed as he shook his head no with a cheesy grin, “suppose one date wouldn’t kill me,”
“trust me love. You won’t regret it,”
You didn’t want to say you were shocked, but Jamie was right. The night had been perfect. You ate some of the best food in your life, drank some ridiculously expensive wine, and even started to flirt back with Jamie over dinner. He really was pulling out all the stops.
He wore his best suit, with a shirt as well even if he couldn’t bring himself to ditch the trainers. He pulled your chair out for you, ordered dessert to share, he even insisted on walking you home at the end of the night. “guess that’s me,” you said as you stood by your front door.
“guess so,” Jamie smiled as he looked down at you, “told you you wouldn’t regret it,” he said, completely ruining the moment but making you laugh as you unlocked your front door.
“give it time. I might regret it later,” you joked as you opened your door, half wondering if Jamie was going to try invite himself in. You were also wondering whether or not to let him. The night had been good after all, and you weren’t usually so strict on the three-date rule.
“I’ll text ya yeah?” Jamie said since he had only just got your number on the walk home, “better not be a fake one you gave me,” he joked.
“you’ll have to wait and see,” you laughed. Maybe he wasn’t going to try make a move then you thought, “goodnight, Jamie,”
Jamie stepped forward. He’s going to kiss me you thought but instead he leaned in to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, “night love,” he said quietly before stepping back, grinning at the way he had left you speechless, “see ya soon babe,” he said as he began to walk down the street.
You waved after him, unable to speak before you closed the door behind yourself. This really had been the perfect date. Maybe Jamie was a gentleman now. When you went to get changed you felt your phone buzz and you laughed when you saw the text.
-just checking – Jamie
You laughed, texting him back instantly.
-as if I’d give you a fake number lol
Jamie grinned when he saw your reply before tucking his phone into his jacket pocket. However, as Jamie was walking home a thought crossed his mind. Fuck, what if he really did like you? Sure, Jamie knew the bet was probably a morally wrong thing to do but it was for a Lamborghini, Collins prized car. He spent the rest of his walk home telling himself it was alright, even if he did end up liking you what was the harm? He’d date you for a month then give you a clean, mess free break up.
Then another issue started. Jamie had fallen for you head over heels. You’d spent the whole night texting, the next week constantly flirting or hanging out after practise. Within two weeks you had been on three dates and Collin had commented on his dedication to win this car which only made Jamie feel worse.
He’d kissed you on your second date after visiting the movies. He even waited till after the movie was finished to do it. It did not help him not fall for you. If anything, it made it harder to stay away from you. Your third week dating you hung out every day whether it be grabbing lunch or making dinner at his house.
The only drawback was Jamie having to turn down your advances, insisting he wanted to take it slow. But by week four he didn’t even mind not having sex. The casual nights watching telly was enough for him. The way you would cuddle him on the couch or how you would lounge around his house with him, both of you wearing his sweats and hoodies. Seeing you in his hoodie melted his heart.
“three more days and the cars are yours bruv,” Issac had said to him during practise and Jamie realised a terrifying thought. What if you found out?
Jamie shrugged it off, trying to forget about it the whole time but it weighed him down the whole practise. Jamie deliberately hung back in the locker room that night, making sure he could catch Collin alone, “maybe we should call off the bet mate,” he said quietly as the last person exited the room.
“why? Scared she’s gonna dump ya?” He laughed as he patted his shoulder before leaving the locker room and now Jamie was left alone to feel like shit.
That was till a gentle knock snapped him out of his thoughts, “ready to go?” You smiled from the locker room door. Jamie put on his best happy face as he grabbed his bag, wrapping his arm around you as you headed to the car park.
The whole walk Jamie was silently thinking about the shit he had landed himself in. Then again, the bet never said he had to break up with you. Issac had said only him, and Collin were allowed to know. He could just let Collin keep his car and no one would need to know. Yeah, it would be fine. He was sure of it. Everything would be fine. Jamie had no idea how wrong he was and how badly this week was going to end.
Jamie tried to push it out of his head that night, but it was now the only thing he could think about. You were both laying on the couch, you being the big spoon while he rested his head on your chest. “You okay baby?” You asked while stroking his hair. “You’ve been quiet all day,”
Jamie was snapped out of his thoughts glancing over to you with a small smile, “Sorry love. Just one of those days you know?”
Jamie tried his best to act normal for the rest of the night but when it came time for him to say goodnight and head back to his place, he found himself unable to pull away when he hugged you. “You sure you’re good?” You asked, your face pressed into his chest while his head buried into your shoulder.
“Course love,” Jamie said, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder, “Just gonna miss you is all,”
“Jamie,” you laughed, pulling him off you, “You will see me in legit less than twelve hours,” you said smiling as you leaned up to kiss him gently, “I’m not going anywhere,”
“Promise?” He said, his eyes sheepishly looking to the floor.
You laughed as you reached out, taking his pinkie in yours, “Promise,”
For the next two days Jamie was extra cuddly, extra lovey dovey, and extra boyfriendy all round. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him, figuring maybe the one-month mark was a bigger deal to him than you first thought. You ended up getting dragged into one of Rebecca and Keeley’s girl talks and when you told them about it. “Maybe he wants to get serious,” Rebecca said as she snacked on one of Teds biscuits, “He might just be nervous about it all. I wouldn’t worry,”
“Yeah babes,” Keeley said as she gave your arm a squeeze, “Jamie legit adores you he’s probs just nervous cause you’re his first long term girlfriend,”
“You think?” You said, nervously picking at the threads of your jumper.
“Totally,” Keeley said, looking to Rebecca who nodded in agreement, “Maybe he’s just nervous about your one-month anniversary,”
“Is that really a thing?” Rebecca asked, sitting down her biscuits in disbelief at the idea one month was a big deal.
Even you looked to Keeley confused, “Well yeah,” Keeley said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Its sweet when you think about it. You’ve made him all soft,” she teased, poking your sides, and making you laughed. You were finally able to relax, and Keeley had even suggested getting him a gift.
The first gift you came up with that Keeley instantly agreed upon was sex. You really liked Jamie but this whole taking it slow thing was going really really slow. On top of making sure to wear something nice under your clothes on your one-month anniversary of your first date you had also gotten him, well made, a gift.
You didn’t exactly want to spend tons on a one-month gift, especially since Jamie had expensive tastes with his footballer salary, but you’d picked up a cheap football from a sports shop and a sharpie. You covered the ball in notes ranging from inside jokes to cheesy pick-up lines including ‘my favourite footballer’ and writing ‘you scored the best goal on’ then adding the day of your date. You were quite proud of it but just encase you took a box of chocolates as well.
The day had been so busy that you didn’t even get to see Jamie before you were rushed off to deal with a Rebecca crisis. No matter how busy you were you made sure to text Jamie at least once in the morning but when Jamie saw your text, he couldn’t help but smile.
-Happy one month anniversary babe, pick you up after work for a hot date?
Jamie was blissfully unaware of what was to come as he typed out his response before heading to the pitch. Collin had insisted the bet wasn’t over till the end of practice and Issac had let it slide, seeing the regret in his friends’ eyes when he realised, he was going to lose his car. Jamie couldn’t care less about the car though as he thought he was finally free from the bet.
He wanted to run up to your office as soon as practise ended but Issac insisted, he wait with him and Collin in the locker room till everyone else had left. When Danni finally left the room, waving bye to his mates as he left, Collin let out a heavy sigh as he pulled out his keys. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said, his voice already choked.
“Mate its just a car,” Jamie said, already so fed up and wanting to find you.
“Bruv,” Isaac said, holding a hand to his chest, “a moment of respect,” he said, allowing Collin to whisper a goodbye to his keys as Jamie rolled his eyes, “Okay Collin its time. Jamie won the bet fair and square,” he said as he pried the keys from Collins hands and handing them to Jamie who sighed as he took them.
“I really, really thought she’d have broken up with you by now,” Collin said, shaking his head as he collapsed onto a bench, his head hanging low.
Jamie rolled his eyes at the dramatics of it all as Issac patted his shoulder, “I didn’t think he could go without sex for this long,” Issac added before nodding at Jamie, “Fair play mate but if you do dump her just don’t be a dick about it,”
“And for the love of god do not dent the car,” Collin pipped up as he lifted his head however when he did Jamie noticed all the colour draining from his face, “Eh mate. Bit of a situation,” he muttered, nodding his head towards the door.
Jamie spans around on his heels and his heart dropped to his stomach when he saw you stood there, tears already trickling down your face. Jamies mouth dried up as he searched for the words when the ball and chocolates slipped from your hand and clattered to the floor. “It’s not what- “Jamie tried to say but you were already backing away before turning to run down the corridor. “You fucking idiots,” Jamie yelled at his teammates before taking off down the corridor after you.
You’d think a professional footballer would catch up with you with ease but when Jamie ran into the car park you were already unlocking your car. “Wait,” he yelled, running over, and closing the door with his hand you’d tried to open.
“Why?” You spat, “Do you need me to prove you won?”
“Babe its- “Jamie tried to say, his hands reaching to hold your shoulders.
You slapped them away in an instant, “don’t babe me,” your voice was filled with anger but the tears streaming down your face was what broke Jamies heart, “You fucking used me. For some fucking bet. Is that all this was to you?”
“No of course not,” Jamie said, his hand grabbing his hair as he backed up slightly so at least you weren’t trapped against the car, “it was just some dumb bet but it’s not like I don’t like you. I really fucking like you,”
“Yeah right,” you scoffed turning to get in the car before stopping, “What did you even win?”
Jamie didn’t know if this would make it worse or better, but he knew lying was definitely the wrong choice, “Collins Lambo,” he said, his voice sounding more like a question as he waited to see your reaction.
“You only dated me because of a fucking car?” You yelled, not caring who heard anymore, “You broke my heart because of a car?!”
“I didn’t wanna hurt you-fuck,” Jamie said, his eyes growing wetter with each second as he tried not to throw up from the guilt, “I promise you that I like you. I think I fucking love you and I’ve never felt this way before and- “
You sighed, turning away as you tried to choke back a sob, “Be honest with me Jamie,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes, “If they hadn’t made the bet, would you have ever asked me out?” You waited for his response but when you turned round to see his jaw hanging open, his eyes wide, you knew the answer. “Don’t talk to me. Ever again,” you said as you jumped into your car and quickly sped off.
Jamie had well and truly fucked it. He felt like his body was on fire as he began to slap his own head, muttering a thousand fucks under his breath. Meanwhile you were trying your best not to be blinded by your own tears as you drove home alone to curl up on the couch and wallow.
A few hours passed and you were still on the couch with a massive tub of ice cream and a million texts from Keeley asking for a follow up from your ‘we broke up’ text. You couldn’t even bring yourself to text her back let alone go answer the door when someone rang your doorbell. Then it rang away. “Go away,” you groaned, sinking further into the couch.
Ring. Ring. Ring. The bell echoed through the house till you tore yourself off the couch, ready to go scream at the idiot at your door. But when you pulled it open and saw his big guilty brown eyes staring back at you, you couldn’t say a word. Especially not when you noticed the red puffiness around his eyes and the way they were already watering again.
“Is that my hoodie?” Jamie asked, his voice quiet and broken as he nodded to the oversized hoodie covering your frame. You paused for a moment before nodding silently. Jamie sighed, his eyes growing sadder, if possible, “Can I come in?”
You paused again, not knowing if your vocal cords could even manage the potential screaming match. Jamie shuffled on his feet, his eyes moving to the floor before you finally spoke, “Fine,” you whispered before heading back to sink into the couch.
Jamie followed, shutting the door behind you both and tentatively walking to your living room. His eyes scanned the room and he almost cried when he saw the ice cream, blankets, and crappy reality show on the tv. He’d made you cry. He’d broke your heart. No matter what happened he knew he could never forgive himself for that.
"I know I had no right coming over here," he started as he sat on the opposite end of the couch trying to give you as much space. You were already curled up on the other end, your eyes glued to the now muted tv as you avoided his gaze, "and believe me I know I don't deserve ya. But I couldn't walk away leaving you thinking I didn't like ya because I did and I still do," he said, his voice dripping with desperation as he searched his pockets.
He began to pull out one post it after the next making you look up at the sound of paper ruffling. They were all pretty crumbled up but Jamie picked them up one by one, "I love how smart you are and how you seem to know everything but don't explain things to me like I'm stupid," he began to read off the post it's chucking them on the couch before grabbing the next, "I love how when you laugh you look at the ground to try hide your face,"
"I love how we can lay on the couch together and not say a word
I love when you hold me and scratch my head
I love when you get sleepy during a movie and crash out on my arm 
I love hearing your snores even if you pretend you don’t
I love holding your hand in public and getting to show you off to my friends"
Jamie continued as he read off at least 40 more post its which you picked up one by one as he grabbed the next. When he went to grab another your hand reached out to stop his and for a moment you allowed yourself to enjoy his touch, "I know it's not as good as the football," Jamie said softly, "but I mean it all. And I hate myself for hurting you,"
"you should never hate yourself," you muttered making a small smile creep on Jamie's lips, "When did it stop being just a bet?" you asked, scared for the answer.
"During our first date," he said making you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "I swear. I was blind for not seeing you before but on that date, it was--you were incredible. I couldn't stop thinking about you all night. I tried to call of the bet, but Issac thought I was just scared to lose," Jamie rambled before pausing for a moment and sighing," I never wanted to hurt you. I promise. You have to believe me," he said as he reached for your hand.
"It's just hard," you said, your voice already choking up again making Jamie almost cry himself, "and I really want to believe you because for fucksake Jamie, I love you too," the words he had longed to hear shot daggers into his heart.
"If you want to never hear from me again, I’ll go," Jamie said, holding your hands tightly and making you finally meet his eyes again, "but if you'll have me ill spend every day making this up to you. I promise. You, this, us. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me,"
You paused for a moment as Jamie's heart pounded in his chest, "One more chance," you whispered making Jamie break out into a grin, but you quickly added, "but if you so much as step a toe out of line,"
"I won't," Jamie cut you off as he gripped your hands tightly, "I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll be the perfect boyfriend, honest," you couldn't help laughing a little at his eagerness. Jamie raised your hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to each of your knuckles, "
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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”
852 notes · View notes
its-time-to-write · 6 months
Note
hello! First thing first, I want to say how much of a good writer you are, I hope you know this 💕 second I have this idea of reader and Jamie dating, but nobody knows. One day reader is in the coaches room and starts yawning and Roy is like what's that 🤨 (something similar to that scene with beard after he gets back with jane) and reader answers with "you have been waking me up everyday at 4 am" or smt like that and this is how everyone finds out. I know you have already written something like this but I thought it was cute, so feel free to ignore
this was cute. you were right.
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coffee at midnight
Neither you nor Jamie exactly decided to keep your relationship a secret.
“It’s not a secret, it’s private, babe,” Jamie insists. You just roll your eyes.
But like, it is private.
That means no instagram posts, no public dates, and no unasked opinions. It also means that Jamie gets a Polaroid camera (“so we don’t get hacked, babe,”), plans dates in his giant house, and keeps fans’ noses out of your relationship.
It also, also means that Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re in Jamie’s bed every morning when he knocks on the door loud enough to wake the dead.
You’re a week into these shenanigans, and you’re not sure how much longer you can handle it. You’ve barely been at Nelson Road for an hour, but you’ve yawned more than you’ve spoken. Jamie’s been sending you apologetic looks every time he passes you in the hall, but now the entire team is in the weight room as you bring the coaches their coffee.
You place Roy’s in front of him and he asks, “The fuck’s wrong with you?”
You glare. “Nothing. That’s rude to ask, anyway. I’m-” you pause to yawn- “fine.”
Ted looks between you and Roy. “Normally I’d side with the lady on this one, but you look dead on your feet. You been sleepin’ okay?”
“Yes,” you reply shortly. “I’ve been sleeping fine. I just don’t get a lot of it these days.”
“That sounds decidedly un-sexy,” Trent calls from his desk.
You snarl, “It isn’t,” then realize that Trent is undeserving of your anger. “I’m sorry. I’ve been getting like five hours of sleep every night this whole week. Me and my boyfriend just moved in together and we both talk like way too much. So we usually don’t fall asleep until late.”
The room fills with whistles and hoots from Ted, Beard, and Trent. Roy is stoic as always.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Ted grins. “What’s his name?”
You hesitate. You’re pretty sure Jamie would be okay if you told Ted, but you’re not sure you really want to. You let the silence stretch on for a beat too long, and Trent’s on you like a vulture.
“It’s someone here, isn’t it?” he asks.
“No,” you reply, but it’s not convincing. It’s hard for you to lie when you’re this tired.
Jamie and Sam choose this exact moment to come into the locker room to grab water bottles. Jamie glances at you and you make the mistake of glancing back. It’s just for a second but Trent catches it with his stupid eagle-eyes.
“Oh shit,” he says.
You round on him. Maybe he does deserve your anger. “Don’t say anything,” you warn.
He zips his lips as Roy says, “Why are you being so fucking weird? We know you’re fucking lying. Just say which of these little pricks you’re dating and get some sleep like a fucking normal adult.”
“I’d be able to get regular sleep, except you’ve been waking me up at fucking 4am!” you explode.
The room goes silent. 
“Fuuuck,” Roy whispers. “Fucking Tartt? You’re dating- fuck, you moved in with fucking Tartt?”
“Yes,” you groan, “We’ve been together for six months and it’s probably the most serious relationship I’ve ever been in, and I know how it sounds but we really like each other. Higgins already knows because of HR shit but other than that, it’s been private.”
Ted and Beard have matching open-mouthed smiles. It would be a little scary if you hadn’t known them for as long as you have.
“That’s the most adorable shit I’ve ever heard in my whole life,” Beard says.
“Hold on,” Trent interjects, “does this mean you and Jamie have been staying up late every night talking?”
“Yes,” you reply primly. “And then this prick bangs on our door at fuck-thirty in the morning and I’m awake for the rest of the day.”
Roy says, “Right,” very slowly. “Is that fucking why he wasn’t wearing fucking trousers?”
All eyes turn to you.
“I’m not answering that,” you say. “In fact, I think I hear Higgins calling me. I have to leave right now.” You back out of the room and down the hall before anyone can say anything else.
The coaches’ office is silent for a moment before they all clamor out of their seats to chase you down the hall. They have so many questions but first, they’re going to yell at Higgins for keeping it a secret.
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benedictscanvas · 4 months
Text
pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader
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pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader
word count: 2.1k
a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3
warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)
---
“Hi love.”
Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 
He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.
Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.
You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.
If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.
“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.
“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”
“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”
You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.
“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”
You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.
“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”
He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.
“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”
You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.
“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”
Jamie winces.
“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”
You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.
“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“
“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”
You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.
“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”
“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”
“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”
He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.
“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”
Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.
---
He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.
After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.
You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.
“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”
Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.
“Kit room.”
It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.
Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.
“Y/N? Love?”
“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”
Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.
“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”
He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.
“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”
Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.
Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.
“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.
“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”
“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.
“You’re alright, though?”
You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.
“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”
No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.
Tell her, you prick.
He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.
This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.
“What’s it say?”
You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.
“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”
You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.
“On the ceiling?”
He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.
It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.
“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”
“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.
“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”
The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.
“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”
You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.
“I spy with my little eye…”
---
It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.
No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.
He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.
“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.
“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.
He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.
Tell him, you silly shit.
It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.
“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”
“What?”
He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.
“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”
He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.
You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.
"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."
He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.
Maybe again.
"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."
He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.
"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."
You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.
"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.
(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)
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danistartt · 1 year
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Homesick- Jamie Tartt
pairings: jamie tartt x reader, roy kent, ted lasso warnings: none. ithink other than language about: request!! jamie tartt is homesick
Jamie has rarely been hesitant to leave for a game.
But there’s something sick at the pit of his stomach when he has to say goodbye to you today, even when you assure him that it’s for so, so little time that it won’t matter. That he won’t miss you with all the excitement of a match. You set your palms against his cheeks and urge his attention to you, tired determination widening your droopy eyes when you tell him that you’re proud of him, sadness angling your features as you apologize for not being able to be there in person to cheer him on.
He smiles and thinks that he believes you.
There’s a painful tug at his heart when he has to leave for real this time, treasuring the warm line your marriage finger grazes along the lobe of his ear. He kisses you, opening his eyes too soon when he pulls away and catching a glimpse of you at your sweetest: still half-submerged in his affection, face softer than he’s seen it.
You are raw in the morning, still a little rumpled from your bed and an inch away from sleep. You got up early for him today. Let your forehead bounce against the passenger window so you could say your farewells face-to-face. He doesn’t think he’s ever had a person care about him like that. Sacrifice even the little things with great pleasure because it’s him.
“You guys’re gonna do great,” you murmur, arms tight around his neck. You squeeze once more before pulling back, giving him a happy, sleepy smile that he takes with him. “I’ll have a celebration ready when you lot get back.”
“Can’t wait,” he tells you with a cheeky wink, watching the amusement in your eyes wake a little bit more.
“Roy’s giving me the stink eye.”
“That’s just how he looks, babe,” he defends. “‘Nd if he’s lookin’ at anyone, it’s me.”
“No,” you say. “He likes you now, Jamie.” The way you say his name is so lovely. All curved and soft and smooth with love. You stifle a yawn and pull him in again. “I’ll see you soon. Behave, okay? I promise I’ll be watching the game on the telly.”
“I always do,” he defends.
“Roy’ll tell me,” you remind playfully. “I think he might write complaints down when you get a little too cocky.”
“I promise,” he gives in.
“You’re going to do amazing,” you tell him again, fully believing it.
“You know it.” He pecks the skin below your eye, finally walking toward the bus.
Roy grunts at you in greeting once Jamie’s gone inside, arms crossed in front of his chest. Ted yells a hello. Beard nods. You wave, continuing to stand in the parking lot until the bus is gone.
-
Jamie worries he’s ill an hour before the game.
You’re busy with the seminar you couldn’t miss and he doesn’t want to tell anybody, but he doesn’t have to with the team he has.
“Jamie, wanna come on over and have a chat?” Ted asks him, smiling.
Jamie shrugs, feeling like lead weighs him down when he stands.
Ted leads him into a hallway and rocks on his heels expectantly. “Y’wanna tell me what’s wrong, or do you want me to guess?”
Jamie scrubs a rough hand down his face. “I dunno, coach.” Ted furrows his brows. “I’ve never…” He sighs frustratedly. “I dunno what it is.”
“Do you not feel well?”
“I feel off.” Jamie shrugs, frustrated. “Like I forgot to do something. I’m all tingly and shit.”
Ted hums. “You a little homesick? I felt a helluva lot like that the first few months I came here. Still feel it when I get into a car on the wrong side.”
“I’ve never missed it before. What’s there to miss? I’ve a bed at me hotel. I like leavin’ and seein’ all the sights.”
Ted scratches his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe you don’t miss your house, Jamie.”
Jamie shakes his head in confusion. “I’m sorry, coach, what?”
“Home ain’t always a building, Jamie,” Ted explains, squeezing his shoulder before heading back inside the locker room.
Jamie stands, perplexed. “The fuck?”
“He’s fucking sayin’ you miss Y/N,” Roy barks out of nowhere. “You’ve never been at a game away from her. You miss her,” he explains. “It happens.”
“Why didn’t he just say that, then?” Jamie complains.
“Substance. Too obvious,” Roy shrugs. “Call her. Stop being fuckin’ ‘tingly,’ Tartt.”
Jamie is left alone once again, processing.
Ted called him homesick, which Jamie opposes. He couldn’t care less about the place where he lived. Everything in it was chosen by another person years ago, and the space is bland otherwise, with only one framed picture of the both of you hanging up on the living room wall.
Still, he damn well yearned to be back among his stupid, minimalistic furniture and monochromatic aesthetic. Why?
Roy said it was you and Jamie is inclined to agree. When he pictures his living room with his dumb couch, you’re laying on it. Your trinkets and colorful items allay impersonal corners. You’re making a wonderful mess in his kitchen. You’re softening clinical sheet edges. You’re the only warm thing that decorates his walls.
He misses you. He’s homesick for you.
He hates it when Roy is right (but he’s getting used to it), especially when it’s concerning something Jamie didn’t expect, something unfamiliar.
His phone pings, lighting up with your contact picture and a text message asking how he is.
He’s never had a home to miss, he thinks. He’s a little happy to have one. He’s elated it’s you.
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inbloomwriting · 10 months
Text
If I had you II Jamie Tartt
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Plot: Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. Reader thinks it's the easiest thing in the world. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Notes: This is inspired by the song "a daydream away". It's 5.2k words of pure friends-to-lovers sweetness.  Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please
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Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. It’s a chore to love him, the real him not the overly confident golden boy he portrays on the pitch. Just look at his track record, that just proves his point. Sure his mom loves him, he never questioned that, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy for her. He’s convinced he’s made her cry more than once with yet another stupid decision. Then there’s his father who loves nothing more than to belittle him and lay out all his flaws for him and the world to see. And if even your own dad doesn’t love you, how can you expect others to. 
So maybe that’s the reason he doesn’t let anyone close enough to even begin to love him. Sooner or later they’ll figure out how much of an effort it takes and that he, of all people, truly isn’t worth it. 
And maybe, perhaps, that’s also the reason he doesn’t allow himself to explore the feelings he harbors for his best friend. He tried to deny them to himself for so long. Tried to pass it off as pure, unfiltered friendship. That’s bullshit though. He knows the feelings are there and there is no use in denying them. That doesn’t mean he can ever allow himself to act on them though. He’d just fuck it all up, the way he usually does with everything he touches. 
The shiny hardwood floor feels cold and smooth as he sits leaning against the kitchen counter, legs stretched out before him. A smile is permanently etched onto his face as (Y/N) talks about something that happened at her work today. He should listen, it’s probably a fun story judging by the way her giggles make her stop talking every few seconds. He should listen but he is so enamored with her that he can not pay attention to anything else. In a perfect world, in a world where loving him was easy, he’d lean over and kiss her. He'd kiss her silly and she’d kiss him back and life would be sweet and it would make sense. In that perfect world, she would love him back the same way he loves her and it would be easy and he’d deserve her. 
But that is not the world he’s living in. That is not his reality. Just a beautiful daydream he allows himself to escape to every once in a while. Loving her in a daydream is safe. It’s secret and quiet and there is no hurt there and no rejection. 
“Why are you grinning like that, huh Tartt?” 
She asks before taking a sip from the beer bottle clasped tightly in her hands. It’s an unusually hot summer’s day. One that makes it impossible to do anything but sit on the floor in as little clothing as possible and drink one cold drink after the other. Even if that means getting a little tipsy on a Tuesday afternoon.
“Nothing. Just happy to have you here. Missed you.”
“We didn’t see each other for a week and you already missed me?”
He misses her the minute she leaves. It’s like his heart isn’t complete if she isn’t there but he can’t really say that can he? Friends don’t tell friends things like that. And a friend is all she is. His best one but still. Telling her any of this could jeopardize their friendship and Jamie doesn’t think he could handle life without her. Not when a week already felt like torture. 
“Well yeah, I’m proper shit at cooking. I need you to feed me.” 
“Oh, is that so? Thought Mr. Bigshot footballer could get free food at any restaurant he fancies.”
She’s teasing but never mean and never hurtful. That’s something he cherishes so much about their friendship. His feelings, his fears — all of it is safe with her. There is no hurt or pain or fear. Just her and her friendship and warmth. And a pair of open arms ready to catch him whenever he stumbles and falls.
“True. But some fancy place in Mayfair will laugh at me if I ask them to make me dino nuggets, won’t they?”
Her laughter, he decides then, is his favorite sound in the world. It makes everything feel alright even if it’s just for a fleeting moment. He needs to keep his feelings locked up in that beautiful daydream because he can never lose this melody her laughter creates. And anyway, he wouldn’t even know what to do if he ever really had her.
— It’s not like she’d say yes anyway.
“You’re probably right about that,” she says and leans her head against his shoulder. And though it’s muggy and hot and he’s sure he can feel their skin stick together, he doesn’t shake her off. She’s part of his heart already, might as well melt into one completely. “You want me to make you some nuggets?” 
“Nah,” Jamie replies and places a soft kiss on the top of her head. Friends kiss friends on the head all the time, everyone knows that. Right? "That's okay. Already had a Kebab with Roy earlier.” 
“You guys are becoming friends then? Should I be worried I’m gonna lose my best friend status?” 
Jamie lets out some mix between a chuckle and a scoff. As if anyone in all the world could ever replace her. What a ridiculous thought. 
“Well he doesn’t make me nuggets, does he? No alphabet soup either. So no. Not yet.” 
The little shake of her fist she does in victory makes him grin even bigger. He must look like a damn fool. 
“I should probably get going sometime soon, I need to finish up some work and do laundry and do all that boring adult stuff that’s waiting for me at home.” 
There are lots of things he should be doing instead of sitting on his kitchen floor on a Tuesday afternoon getting half drunk on cheap beer and half on his overwhelming love for her. He’s sure there are a bunch of texts and emails waiting for him to sort through. Keeley might be popping a blood vessel soon if he doesn’t answer her about that brand requesting to work with him on some ad campaign. And he will get back to her — soon. 
Right now it doesn’t matter. Right now all that matters is him and (Y/N) and their little corner of safety and — home.
“But I don’t want to.” 
“Yeah, me neither. Just want to sit here with you and — “ 
“ — hang out?” 
“Mh. Hang out.” 
That was not what he wanted to say but none of the words ghosting through his head are meant to be spoken out loud. They are his to feel and think and keep hidden and quiet. 
“Good, we can hang out a little longer I think.” 
And he’ll take what he can get. All the precious minutes she grants him he cherishes. 
Right now could last forever and he wouldn’t mind at all.
Not as long as he’s with her.
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Some early 00s pop song is blasting from the speakers of the bar. Everyone’s in good spirits and drinks are flowing freely. 
(Y/N) is leaning against the bar talking to Colin, laughing about something he said, radiating joy and happiness. 
She loves his friends, his boys, his family. Jamie loves that she loves them so dearly, so fiercely as if they are her own family. At this point, they might as well be. She remembers all their birthdays, drops by unannounced with cookies for everybody, cheers them on louder than anybody else. Hell, she even gets Roy to smile and that’s quite something. She’s as much a part of the AFC Richmond family as she is a part of his life. 
“Jamie-Jam-Jam what are you sulking over here for,” her voice cuts through the crowd and the music as she slides into the booth next to him. She looks gorgeous in the hazy neon lights. Then again, she always looks gorgeous. 
“Not sulking. Just — thinking.” 
“About what?”
You. He’d say if he was honest and not such a coward. You and how much I adore you and how hard it is not to tell you any of this and fuck up our friendship. 
“Was considering getting me nipples pierced. I’d have to take them out though and I imagine that would be quite annoying.” 
“Probably,” she agrees and nods her head before adding “It would look sick though.” 
“Right? I reckon it would.” 
She laughs at that and once again it shakes his entire world. Like little earthquakes inside his heart. 
Her voice is quieter after her laughter subsides, soft and gentle, and with the loud music it feels like her words are only meant for him. “I like this,” she says almost wistfully.
“The song? Who’s that, Rihanna?” 
“Not the song, silly boy. This — “ she gestures around the room towards all their friends, dancing and laughing and having the time of their lives. And then she motions to the two of them, secluded and safe inside their own little bubble. “escaping our busy lives for a moment.” 
“Lot of journalists would disagree with you there, love. That my life was busy.” 
“They don’t know you like I know you.” 
There’s a sincerity in her eyes, a warmth, something he can’t quite explain. It’s familiar and foreign all at once. 
“No one knows me like you do. You had pity on Jamie Tartt, messy little prick from math class. They just know Jamie Tartt, the footballer from Richmond.Still a prick but now with better hair.” 
Before he knows what’s happening, her hands take hold of his face and gently rest against his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. Really look at her.
“I never had pity on you, Jamie. I thought you were funny and exciting and infinitely cool. That’s why I wanted to be your friend. And I was right! About the funny part, not the cool part.” 
“Obviously.” 
“But I never took pity on you. I don’t think you realize how highly I think of you. Now let me get a sip of that drink.” 
He’s still in some sort of haze brought on by her words when a groan coming from her shakes him from his thoughts. Her face is all scrunched up in disgust as she places his glass back on the table. “Ew, what the fuck is that?” 
“I’m not sure, honestly. Barkeeper said she’d mix me a Jamie Tartt and I was like fuck yeah, a drink named after me.”
“It’s disgusting. Did you shag and dump her at some point? Like, is she mad at you for some reason?” 
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman before in my life … so yeah maybe.” 
Shaking her head with a smirk on her face she grabs a hold of his hand and pulls him out of the booth and towards the bar on the other side of the place, the one with the older male bartender with the impressive beard.
“You ever had a thing with him?” she asks as she leans against the counter, trying to get the man’s attention.
“Nah, I’d remember that facial hair.” 
From then on the night tastes like tequila and beer and it feels like a warm hug. She doesn’t join in on all his drinks, stops herself after a beer and a shot, but she does join him in all the other shenanigans. Like when they make up ridiculous backstories for strangers and have a laugh about some corporate douchebag trying desperately to get with some woman who clearly has no interest in him. 
“Henry from accounting.”
“Nah, that’s Charlie from HR.” 
“Well, either way, Maisie from South Shields is not interested.” 
He could stay here forever, laugh the night away. Drunk on happiness, on love — and also on quite a lot of booze. 
“Come on, Jamie-Jam, “ she says and hands him his jacket. She’s all gentle hands and gentle eyes. “Let me give you a ride home.” 
“We’re going home?”
“I think it’s time. Think someone had a little too much.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
He is but also not. He’s sorry for being a burden — again. He’s not sorry for letting himself enjoy a night of unadulterated happiness with the people that mean the most to him.
“No need to apologize, Jamie. I’m glad you had fun. Now come on, silly boy. I’m tired.”
And when they step out of the place and into the night, all sweaty and hair a mess, he thinks that of all the things his eyes have ever seen, the best by far is her. Then and always. 
London passes by in a blur as (Y/N) drives them towards his house. All the bougie buildings and the iron fences and the trees in the parks, it’s all one kaleidoscope of color, a smudge of light and shadows. 
It’s not like he can really focus on that though. Partly because all he can think of is her and partly because he’s absolutely wasted. Mostly her though. Definitely mostly her.
“Did you have a good time?” his voice slices through the comfortable silence.
“I always have a good time when I’m with you, silly boy. Did you?” 
He rests his cheek against the smooth leather of her car seats and regards her with an infinite sense of wonder and adoration. In any other situation, this position would be deeply uncomfortable but he’s numb to anything but the beating of his heart and the strings that pull him towards his best friend.
“Obviously. Had my best girl with me. “
“Keeley?”
His eyebrows raise in confusion. “Keeley? No you numpty, you!” 
“Me?”
“Why would you think I was talking about Keeley?”
He wishes he could see the look on her face. This is not a car conversation. 
“Uh, she’s the only real adult relationship you ever had and you had a poster of her on your wall. Makes one think things. In fact, I believe that poster is still up.”
Jamie can’t help but scoff at her words. Not in a dismissive way necessarily but this whole conversation seems so silly to him. Yeah, he loved Keeley in a way and yeah she’s still one of his best friends but never has she come close to (Y/N). Keeley hardly ever got to see the real Jamie, the one that didn’t hide behind this larger-than-life footballer persona. (Y/N) met him before that persona even existed.
“Stop thinking things then. You’re my best girl, always.”
He still can’t see her face since she is looking at the road in front of them, but he can see the smile pulling the corner of her lips upwards, and for the moment that’s good enough for him.
Her car comes to a stop in front of Jamie's house but while he drags himself out of his seat, she stays put. 
“What are you doing, love?” 
“Dropping you off?” 
“Are you not coming inside then?” 
“Do you want me to come inside? We spent pretty much all week with each other, I thought you might be sick of me by now.” 
A ridiculous thought if he’s ever heard one. He could never get sick of her. They could be glued to each other for the rest of eternity and he wouldn’t mind one bit. 
Even in his drunk state of mind though, he realizes that’s not something he can tell her. That crosses out of friend territory. So he just chuckles and rolls his eyes.
“Do I want you to come in? What a dumb question is that? Of course, I do. I have a bag of those disgusting spicy crisps waiting for you in my kitchen.”
“In that case —” 
10 minutes later they’re sitting on his couch, her legs across his lap, munching away at those god-awful crisps as some overly dramatic American home renovation show flickers across the TV screen. 
In moments like these, love lives here. In these walls and on this couch. And it’s terrifying because thinking about love also makes him think of the possibility of losing it. But every once in a while, Jamie lets himself feel a tiny bit of it. Just enough to keep him going. 
“Hey Jamie,” she speaks up, her face only illuminated by the light coming from the TV. She’s wearing his shirt and he wills himself not to focus too hard on that because that will cause images to ghosts through his mind that he can’t allow himself to ever think about. Images that cross every line ever drawn when it comes to friendships.
“Yes, love?” 
“You’re my best boy too. Not sure I ever told you.” 
He doesn’t answer, not in words at least. But he squeezes her legs as they rest on him, and he hopes she knows. Oh god if only she knew. 
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Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. (Y/N) knows he thinks so because he let it slip once or twice when he was drunk and his words were all jumbled and his mind was all hazy. 
And every damn time it breaks her fucking heart. Because loving Jamie Tartt is the easiest thing she ever did. It comes as natural as breathing. It feels like a nice ray of summer sun on her skin, sizzling and exciting and warm.
Loving Jamie is a gift.
Now if only there was a way she could make him realize that. But every time he lets himself be even a little vulnerable he is so quick to cover the cracks with stupid jokes or misplaced arrogance before a real conversation can happen. 
She needs him to realize it though. To understand that loving him isn’t difficult. Because how can you tell someone you love them and make them understand just how much they mean to you when they deem themself unlovable? 
Turning her head to the side she looks at his sleeping face. Somewhere between Fixer Upper and House Hunters, he fell asleep, leaving her alone with her thoughts. He’s snoring something awful but she still thinks he’s adorable. Jamie has a mischievous, lovable quality to him that just makes you open your heart to him whether you want to or not. Yeah, sure, he’s let people down, he’s done shitty things, but he’s trying. He’s learned and he’s changed and the price for being young and stupid and cocky should not be a life spent questioning if you deserve other people’s love. 
Jamie Tartt is not hard to love. But loving him and not being able to tell him because he doesn’t love you in quite the same way, that’s just fucking cruel.
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The air is loaded with static. Everyone is on the edge of their seat. (Y/N) is huddled in between Rebecca and Keeley, holding their hands and nervously biting at her lip. Emotions are running high as Richmond is playing Manchester. Correction — they’re not only playing them, they are kicking their asses.
It’s 2-0 for Richmond and they’re already 1 minute into the 3 minutes of additional time. If Manchester doesn’t get a miracle, Richmond wins. The thought of that makes a fluttery feeling spread in (Y/N)’s stomach. If this is how she feels, she can only imagine what Jamie must feel like. 
1:30
2 minutes
2:30
3 minutes.
“Blow the whistle. Come on. Blow the fucking whistle.” 
And as if he heard her pleading, the referee blows the whistle giving Richmond their win. 
Laughter and cheers and songs fill the air as every Richmond fan is on their feet celebrating a win they so desperately wanted and that the team fought so hard for.
The win Jamie fought so hard for. 
She tries to find him across the pitch but there are too many people, hugging and celebrating, too much noise. She just hopes he knows how proud she is.
And she hopes that somewhere out there his dad is watching. Sees him win, with the team he doesn’t approve of. Watches him succeed and be the man he never was and never will be.
She hopes somewhere deep in the inky black pit that is his heart, he finds a glimmer of pride for his only son, even if it comes entirely belated.
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Jamie has won quite a few matches by now and it’s always a great feeling but some wins stand out. This is one of them.
His heart is filled with gratitude and pride, and his entire system is flooded with adrenaline and utter euphoria. He’s positively buzzing as the team gathers in the hallway leading toward the locker room. Some of them have been whisked away to give short post-match interviews — as if there is much to say other than how fucking awesome it feels to win — while the others are waiting for them to come back so they can all meet up at the locker room for some after match briefing. 
“Superstar, you did it!” 
Her voice carries through the hallway above the rest of all the noise. Like a siren calling out to him, she can’t hear anything but her, it all shifts into the background.
She weaves through the crowd like a fucking goddess in blue. He always thought she looked good in the Richmond colors and seeing her with his name on her back never fails to make his heart shutter with delight. But there’s something about today that makes this even more special. 
Maybe it’s the adrenaline of winning. Of making his mom proud and proving his dad wrong. Of proving himself wrong. Maybe it’s seeing her in his kit, with his name and his number smiling that radiant smile of hers. Maybe it’s a combination of all these things. But something makes his brain short-circuit for a moment. Just a fleeting moment but long enough to make him push through the crowd until he’s standing in front of her, matching smiles on their faces. Just long enough for him to softly place one hand on her waist and pull her closer, so unbelievably close. Just long enough to cradle her face in his other hand, gentle and careful, like the most precious thing in the world. Long enough for him to place his lips on hers in a kiss so sweet, so long in the making, it feels surreal. It feels like he’s still stuck in his saccharine daydream.
And then reality snaps back and he pulls away, opening his eyes to a smiling (Y/N) staring back up at him through curious eyes.
“Silly boy, what was that?” 
She doesn’t sound upset, in fact, his delusions might even make him think she sounds delighted. 
“I — “ 
“Jamie, locker room. Let’s go, boy!” 
Ted’s voice calls out to him all full of glee and jubilation. The guy sounds even more chipper than usual and that says a whole lot. 
Pulling away from her feels like having a bubble suddenly popped. Every what-if that has been clouded by post-win euphoria suddenly bears their ugly head again. Sometimes Jamie wishes his thoughts weren’t so fucking loud all the time.
“Go, your coach is asking for you. I’ll see you at the after-party. We’ll talk then, yeah?”
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Only they don’t because, for some inexplicable reason, Jamie avoids her like the plague.
Everyone is gathered at the bar for celebratory drinks, it’s a private function, just the team and family and associates. Spirits are high, everyone’s excited. And all things considered this night should be magical. Only it’s not, because once again Jamie refuses to let himself be loved.
Rejection tastes bitter. It’s sharp and metallic. Rejection also tastes quite a lot like tequila.
The salt, the lime, the liquor — it’s supposed to make her feel better. It’s supposed to mend the cracks in her heart, if only for a night. 
It doesn’t do any of that, it only makes her fucking sad.
How foolish of her to believe that he’d feel the same, that he’d finally pick up on the hints she’s been dropping for over a decade and reciprocate the feelings. Maybe they never stood a chance anyway. Maybe —
No, actually fuck that.
He can’t do this, it’s unfair. You don’t kiss someone, not like that at least, and then ignore them for the rest of the night. Especially not when that person is your best fucking friend.
Bumping against people left and right, she makes her way across the room to stand next to a smiling Jamie deep in conversation with a pretty girl, who (Y/N) is quite sure is the sister of one of his teammates.
“I need to talk to you.” It’s not a request. Not this time. This conversation has been a long time coming. It’s time, she thinks, to finally be brave. One can only swallow down their feelings and emotions for so long, until they come bubbling to the surface like a fucking volcano rolling over Pompeii. She just hopes that once the dust settles there will be hope instead of death and destruction.
“Uh, kind of in the middle of something here.” 
She can’t stand this part of him. This fake, unbothered cool guy who has no empathy for her or anyone other than himself. She hates it mostly because this is not the real Jamie, just some cardboard cutout version of him.
“Too bad, that'll have to wait.” 
She doesn’t give him another second to resist or shake her off, just grabs onto his arm and pulls him through the crowd and towards the exit.
The nightly London air feels cold against her skin, making her shiver as goosebumps appear on her arms.
“What the fuck is going on with you?”
“What the fuck is going on with me?”
He can’t be serious.
“Yeah. I had something going there. She was well fit too.”
The urge to smack him across his stupidly handsome face is seriously fighting her desire to kiss him again right about now.
“Good for her but you owe me a conversation.”
“(Y/N), I — “ 
The way he rolls his eyes so dismissively, so suave and cool, it’s like a dagger straight to the heart.
“No, you know what — fuck you, Jamie. I know you have a hard time letting people in completely, and I get that that’s something you have to work through on your own time but the way you're treating me right now is really shit. You can’t kiss me like that and then run. I’ve been waiting for that fucking kiss for over a decade.” 
“What?” 
He looks at her with the signature Jamie Tartt look of confusion and innocence. Like a damn puppy or something. And if she wasn’t so annoyed, so hurt, maybe she’d find it endearing.
“I’m in love with you, Jamie. I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you. I’ve been in love with you since I was sat next to you in class and you asked me if Pythagoras was that French guy. I’ve loved you when you were just a chaotic teenager. I’ve loved you when you won your first game and when you lost. I’ve loved you when you signed your first contract and when you made a complete fool of yourself on that ridiculous tv show. And I love you now. So to think you finally picked up on it and reciprocate my feelings was — I was so happy, Jamie. Only for you to completely ignore me for the rest of the night. I don’t deserve that. Not from you of all people. “
“Will you let me talk?”
“No, I’m not done yet.”
“Alright, go on.”
“I love you, Jamie and I know you think I shouldn’t and that you don’t deserve it, but guess what? I don’t care. I love you anyway and I am not asking for permission to love you. That’s not how it works. And I don’t love you despite your flaws, I love them too. Even your stupid 2003 looking haircut and your ridiculous clothes that make you look like a male Bratz doll sometimes. Sorry people in your life made you feel like you had to earn it just because they couldn’t see how phenomenal you are. Just you, Jamie Tartt, messy little prick.” 
Silence wraps around them like a thick blanket as a moment passes, then two. Jamie raises his eyebrows in question.
“Can I?”
“Yes, you can!”
“Jesus, alright. Stop yelling at me.”
“Well, I’m upset!”
“And I’m sorry about that. I never meant to upset you. Ever. I just — do you remember that one birthday, I think I turned 12, when me dad showed up and he was just being his usual asshole self and he made me play against him and then yelled at me in front of all the guests when he won? “
She sure does. Even at 12, she wanted to put her tiny little fist straight between Mr. Tartt’s eyebrows. “Yes.”
“You sat with me when I went to my room to escape. Refused to leave my side. Called my dad a wanker and you made me laugh. Then you got me a piece of cake and we ate it on my bed while watching Spongebob.” A smile plays on his lips as he reminisces about that day.
“I was 12 and I didn’t know a lot but I knew that night that I was in love with you and I immediately promised myself I wasn’t gonna do anything about it. Losing you is the scariest thing I can think about and my track record with people is pretty shit, honestly. So yeah I didn’t want to even risk fucking up with you. Rather have you as a friend than not have you at all.”
“So why did you kiss me earlier after all?”
“For one, you looked so fit in blue, with my name on your back. I was full of adrenaline and just so fucking happy. I uh — I think my mind was telling me that it’s finally time to be brave for once.”
Hearing him say it, it’s something she never expected but always hoped for. She’s played this scene out so many times in her dreams and yet she doesn’t know what to say or do now that it is actually happening.
“So what now?”
“Well, if you let me, I was gonna kiss you. Because if you think that other kiss was great, this next one is going to change your life.”
As those words fall from his lips, (Y/N) can’t get close to him quick enough. Pulling him towards her by the front of his shirt. Closer and closer until there is no room left between them and he gently nuzzles his nose against hers. 
“Jamie Tartt?” 
“Hmm?”
“Change my life!”
Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thought so. And maybe a part of him still does and always will. But kissing (Y/N), his best girl, the fucking love of his life, it feels quite easy to let himself be loved. 
Feels as easy as breathing. And for once in his life, the reality is so much sweeter than the daydream. 
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illiterateaffairs · 1 year
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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
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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??
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