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danistartt · 1 year

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Dirty, Dirty Criminals- Jamie Tartt

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, ted lasso, roy kent, the team warnings: spoilers for mom city, james tartt, injury about: a request about reader comforting jamie and a request about reader calming him down!

You’re inside the Man City locker room when Jamie limps inside, pacing the perimeter of the benches. He pauses to watch you in surprise, remembering the enthusiastic glance the two of you had shared just before he’d come in. He should’ve known the strange strain of your smile was worry.

You turn a corner and catch his eye, features brightening, spine straightening. “Jamie,” you say, eyes constellating down his body. They catch on the rise of his right ankle, the way his shoulders lean to the opposite side. Your eyebrows pinch in worry, stepping toward him.

“What’re you doin’ here?” he asks, letting you help him to a bench. You sit him down and fuss at him, a palm over his cheek to catch his eye.

“You were down for a while, Jamie,” you tell him, pushing back stubborn strands of hair. You watch him for a second more before blinking yourself out of it, stepping back to stare at his ankle. “Are you in pain?” Your face contorts. “I don’t… do you want ice? Painkillers?” You hurry to another bench and grab your medical bag. “I have–”

“I’m okay,” he assures, placing a hand against your forearm. “They gave me the good stuff.”

You nod, searching his face. You glance back down. “Are you okay?”

He hesitates then, gaze drifting away from you to a space above the locker room. You soften, the din whirr of the ending buzzer echoing inside. There’s massive cheering that follows thereafter.

“Okay,” you murmur, already foreseeing the entrance of the team. “That’s okay.” You step closer to him and let him hug you, pushing his head against your stomach. You smooth your fingers through his hair and drop a kiss at the part of his forehead you can see, feeling his fingers fist your shirt. He takes in an unsteady breath, pulling you closer.

The pounding of heavy footsteps shakes the ground lightly, and although they’re still a distance away, Jamie separates, his cheeks flushed. You don’t ask again, brushing a thumb along the delicate skin beneath his eyes and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I’m really proud of you, you know?” you tell him.

He nods. “Thank you.”

Roy comes inside first, glancing around. His features are pulled tightly, a giant grin on his face. The team floods in next, quickly crowding Jamie and you step back to let him celebrate, keeping worried attention on his body language.

He sits next to you on the bus ride home, absentmindedly playing with your fingers as he chatters with his teammates, and when you arrive at Richmond, he leans against you and holds your hand, watching the rest of the guys pack up as Isaac makes them promise to drink water on their night out. He heads out, clapping Jamie’s hand.

“Are you guys gonna join us?” he asks.

You glance at Jamie. “Your choice, babe.”

He shakes his head. “Nah. Gotta get this sorted out.” He gestures to his ankle. “But you have fun with your water, yeah?”

Isaac chuckles, saying goodbye to you before he leaves. Cockburn, Bumbercatch, and Colin leave next. You stand to collect Jamie’s things as he says something to Colin and then Dani, stepping in front of him, his bag slung around your shoulder, once everyone is out.

“Let’s go ice that foot. You ready?”

Jamie hesitates, staring down at his lap. “Actually… can we go home? Do it there?”

You cock your head at him but nod. “Yeah. Of course.” Jamie’s jaw twitches, his bottom lip between his teeth. “Do you need help?”

“No, no,” he reassures, but you’re dumping everyone on the ground already, getting his crutches and helping him slide them on his arms. “Thank you,” he says again, laughing lightly.

“We’re gonna ice it on and off for a few hours, okay?” you tell him, pulling him gently to his feet. “I think I have some of those big wrap-around things already ready.”

He nods, features sorry as he watches you pull on his backpack and your bag. “I can carry that.”

“No. You’re injured.”

“Barely,” he scoffs.

“Don’t make it worse,” you say mildly. “I can do it. Let me help you.”

Jamie purses his lips and accepts it, giving his coaches a two-finger salute as you say goodbye before letting you help him out to the car.

The ride is silent the whole way home–at least in terms of Jamie. He reflects on some of the plays of the game and responds to your questions, but the excitement he’d normally have after a match is faded down to something hazier. Sadder.

You heave a big sigh once you’re finally inside your house, carefully wrapping a long ice pack around his injured ankle. His features are pinched, focus on your hands. You stay crouched even after you’re done, watching him stare blankly.

“Jamie,” you start brittly, a hand crawling up to squeeze one of his. He meets your eyes and you ask, gently, “What’s wrong?”

He purses his lips, tilting his chin up. The angle highlights the sunken crescents under his eyes and the soft wobble of his bottom lip when he breathes out.

“Jamie,” you repeat, edging a little desperate. You stand, looping your arms around his neck like you did in the locker room. He hooks his own arms round your waist, fingers brushing against your skin when he twiddles them. He inhales and exhales shakily.

“I don’t think he went today, my dad.” Jamie doesn’t look at you but takes advantage of your proximity. “I’m glad. But I couldn’t stop thinkin’ he’d just… appear. Like he usually does.”

“He won’t,” you say. “And if he does, you’re not going to be alone. You’re not going to have to deal with him like you’ve had to before.”

Jamie nods, his tongue convexing his cheek. “Coach said I should think about forgivin’ him.” He plays with the end of your shirt. “For me.”

Your breath stutters, the rest of your body struggling to stay neutral. “Is that what you want?”

He takes a moment to respond, thinking it over. “I dunno. He said it wouldn’t be somethin’ for him but it feels a lot like it.”

“You don’t have to forgive him, Jamie,” you assure. His chin bobs in credence, but he hesitates.

“I don’t want to keep feelin’ like this,” he contends, features conflicted. Pleadingly, he looks up at you. “Do you think it would help? To forgive him?”

“I don’t know,” you admit mournfully. “But it’s not about me. Forgiveness is about you. It’s not about absolvement.” You pause. “I feel like that’s not the right word…” You pause for a second, collecting your thoughts. “I know you carry this, this weight around. And it taints a lot of your choices. What I think Ted’s trying to say is more… letting go of that anger--that thing that makes you need to affect your dad--so it isn’t what holds you together, and you can live for you.”

Jamie swallows, and you can feel his nod against your stomach, the wet warmth that seeps through your blouse. “I don’t want him in my life.”

You nod. Then, plainly: “He doesn’t have to be. Not at all. It doesn’t matter what happens.” Jamie sniffles, nodding.

After a minute, he breathes out shakily, a morose chuckle finally dipping in something lighter.

You sneak a few fingers along his face and tuck them under his chin, angling it up very tenderly. His face is streaked sparkly, the pad of your thumb rubbing some of its glitter away. “What is it?”

“Nothin’. It’s just, y’know this is the first time in, like, a week I haven’t felt this huge weight on my chest?”

“A week?”

“It left when we went to my mom’s. And then, shwoop. Right back on me ribs a little after.”

You dwell on this, fingers tracing lazily along Jamie’s face. “What do you think it was?”

He shrugs. “As long as it’s gone.”

You nod, the slants of his features making you change the subject. “How’s your ankle?”

Jamie looks down at it and purses his lips.

“Here.” You back away, urging him to put his foot up on a little mountain of pillows you throw together. “I’ll get you some water and I think we still have some stew in the fridge from a few days ago…”

“Stew?” he repeats, his question at the beginning of being amused. “Babe, I’m not sick.”

When your eyes meet, he can see the little wrinkle between your brows and the way the edges of your eyes downturn.

“C’mere.” He extends his arms out toward you and fixes his lips into a pout. “‘M pretty sure this is what the doctor ordered.”

You lift a brow, something returning to your features. “Is it? I’ve never heard of it.”

He nods suredly. “S’effective, too.” You roll your eyes, your grin rounding your cheeks.

Then, you sit next to him on the couch and turn him around until his head is on your lap. He hums pleasedly, taking your hand between both of his. “You don’t want any food? A movie?”

“I want to not move for a few hours, to be honest.”

“Fair. You get whatever you want today.”

“It’s eleven.”

“And tomorrow.”

Jamie shifts further into you, eyes fluttering shut with a sigh. He doesn’t go to sleep.

You take his hair into your hands again and contemplate. “You did really good today, Jamie. I’m so proud of you.”

One edge of his lips quirks up, his right eye blinking open to take a peek at you. “I did, didn’t I?”

You shake your head in wonder, staring blankly at an empty point on the wall. “You have no idea how excited we all were.”

“I could hear ya cheerin’ me on.”

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah. Gave me a little boost.”

“Not that you needed it. But happy to help.” You glance at his ankle. “How’s it feeling?”

“It’s not too cold or anythin’.” He looks cheeky. “It’s nice havin’ my girlfriend as my physical therapist.”

“Not yours. Legally. For the whole team. Rebecca says, legally, everyone but you.”

He curls his mouth up and thins his eyes in dissent, making a long, thin noise. “The team ain’t on your thighs, though. I am.” He grins. “You’re takin’ care of me.”

You shake your head. “Off the books.”

“Like a criminal? Like a dirty, dirty criminal?”

“No,” you say in surprise. Then you think. “Kind of.”

Jamie laughs, abandoning the quick, harsh pressures he conducts on the tips of your nails to lock his fingers between yours. “That was my dream when I was a lad, did’ya know?”

“No, it was not,” you scoff.

“Well, it should’ve been.” He watches you laugh, brushing his lips over your fingertips. “‘Cuz this is great.”

You can’t help but agree.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tart fic #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt reader insert #jamie tartt angst #jamie tartt hurt/comfort #jamie tartt hurt comfort #jamie tartt x reader hurt/comfort #jamie tartt x reader hurt comfort #jamie tartt x reader angst #mom city #jamie tartt x reader fluff #ted lasso #roy kent #isaac mcadoo #ted lasso fanfiction #jamie tartt request

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thetarttfuldickhead · 5 months

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It’s a little unclear, in the end, how the conversation gets there, because all in all the Richmond dressing room isn’t the site of that many sex jokes, not since Colin came out and no longer feels the need to make them. But they’re still lads, yeah, and young, mostly, so the jokes still happen, even if it’s just gentle ribbing, and silliness.

So: somehow, one morning halfway into Roy’s first year as head coach, the topic turns to sex, of the rougher variety. Roy’s only listening with half an ear, he’s busy sketching out the new trick plays Nate’s dreamed up on the whiteboard, and he doesn’t really catch the build-up, but when Jamie’s name is mentioned his ears perk up without him even really noticing. It’s become instinct at that point, keeping track of Jamie (even as Roy does his best to give all his players at least some semblance of equal attention).

“We know that Jamie likes it rough, though,” Zorro says, and the rest of the group oh:s and ah:s either knowingly or in surprised glee.

“Eh?” Jamie sounds startled by the assertion, but not particularly put off. (He never really is, as long as he gets attention, Roy thinks with an internal scoff that’s far fonder than he’d ever admit to.) “What makes you say that?”

“You told us!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Roy can see Jamie shake his head. “I don’t know what you’re on about, mate.” Still not bothered, but clearly not understanding what Zorro is getting at either.

Isaac throws him a disbelieving glance. “You don’t remember, bruv? It was when you first came here, before you started going out with Keeley.”

“Yeah,” Colin interjects, “You’d only been here for about two weeks, I think, but you came into training with these marks and bruises, and it turned out you’d hooked up with a girl the night before, but you hadn’t known she was a professional dominatrix before you got to her place.”

Hoots and titters at that, delighted and amused but not unkind.

“Exactly,” Zorro says. “And you told us you’d just gone with it because you have to try everything at least once, and it hadn’t been bad.”

Ah. Roy remembers now. He’d already been absolutely fed-up with Jamie’s attitude, the arrogance and selfishness and incessant need to put others down, and the striker’s total lack of shame and casual smugness about the marks had rubbed Roy entirely the wrong way. Not because people should be ashamed for liking that sort of stuff, of course (Roy wasn’t), but there was such a thing as common decency and unspoken rules about not parading around the dressing room like you were in a fucking porno or some shit and—

If Roy was honest about it, he’d mostly been pissed because it was Jamie, and everything Jaime did pissed him off back then (though, to be fair, most of what Jamie did back then was fucking shitty, so it’s not like Roy was wrong to be pissed. Most of the time).

“Oh.” Jamie’s voice is soft, suddenly. Small, in a way that has alarm bells going off like air raid sirens in Roy’s head. “Yeah. Um.”

The realisation hits Roy a second before it does the rest of the team, and his ears are already filling with a terrible ringing as the room falls silent behind him. He can feel himself grow rigid with rage, and with cold, curdling shame.

“Shit, man,” Isaac says eventually.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry.” It’s odd, the way Colin’s earnest, unhappy voice seems to be coming from so very far away.

“What?” Zorro, still not getting it, and then he does, and Roy, at a great distance, can hear his face crumpling. “Oh shit, Jamie, I didn’t mean—“

“No, don’t worry about it, man. It was a long time ago, yeah? It’s fine.” It’s a heroic attempt at sounding casual. Might have succeeded, too, back before they all knew Jamie as well as the do now.

Roy doesn’t stick around to hear the team offer their comfort and Jamie try to wave their concern away. He walks into the coaches’ office, and the only reason he doesn’t slam the door as hard as he can is because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“You all right there, Coach?” Beard looks up at him from behind his book, brow creased in quiet assessment.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Nate jumps down from the desk he’s been perched on. “Did someone die?”

And Roy wants to tell them to fuck off. Wants to punch the wall so hard it stops his mind from spinning. But he’s been talking with Dr. Fieldstone about that, hasn’t he, how his maladaptive coping strategies are tripping him up, and fucking over the people he cares about in the process.

So he takes a deep breath. And he doesn’t look at them when he starts talking. “Back before Ted came here Jamie came in with these bruises all over his chest and back one day, and he told us he’d had sex with a fucking dominatrix. And I believed him, okay? I just… I fucking believed him, even though it was weird fucking bruises for— That’s not the fucking point. But because I thought he was an arrogant fucking prick and I fucking hated his guts, I told him— “ He trails off, looking up at the ceiling. Uselessly, his cheeks are burning. Maybe his eyes are, too, if he’d let himself feel it. “I told him I’d be happy to pay to see someone give him a trashing. Give ‘em extra if they knocked a couple of his teeth out so he’d shut up for once.”

Beard doesn’t say anything, but he leans back in his chair with a look on his face that lets Roy know that, yeah, he’d fucked that one up good and proper.

“Oh,” Nate says. “So it was his dad who— That’s— But— I mean, that’s not good, obviously, that’s awful, but it’s… It wasn’t you who hurt him, Roy. And I mean, you and Jamie have said all sorts of thing to each other. Done all sorts of things.”

And that’s true, isn’t it. And mostly Roy is happy enough to write it off as tit-for-tat, old foolishness and bygones, Jamie a prick and Roy sometimes an idiot, and they’re both better now. And he doesn’t know how to explain to Nate and Beard how knowing that Jamie looked up to him ever since he was a kid, knowing that he never took that poster down, even after that, after everything, makes his casual cruelty and failure to protect Jamie all the harder to bear, even if he hadn’t known at the time that there was anything to protect Jamie from.

“Coach—“ Beard begins, but is interrupted by a knock on the door, and before Roy can tell whoever it is to fuck off, Jamie sticks his head into the office. Must have made his escape from the rest of the team, then. “Sorry, Coach, are we getting started or what? The lads— “ He catches sight of Roy’s face and his eyes widen. “Jesus, Roy, what happened? Are you all right, man?”

Under other circumstances, Roy might have found it remarkable how quickly and effortlessly Jamie makes the switch from Roy’s respectful star player to Roy’s friend, his entire demeanour changing as he moves into the room. As it is, Roy doesn’t say anything, but he must have made some sort of noise or moved some sort of way, because Jamie’s face twists in alarm, and then he’s across the floor and gently but firmly pulling Roy into a hug. “There, it’s all right, man, I’ve got you, lad, it’s all right.”

Roy blames all the fucking therapy he’d been doing for the past eight months for not pushing Jamie away but instead allowing the other to hold him, and allowing himself to hesitantly wrap his arms around him in turn. Fuck Nate. Fuck Beard. Fuck the team. Fuck anyone who thinks they get to have opinions on that.

He’s got an inch on Jamie, but Jamie’s broader, solid and strong. Steady, as he puts a hand on the back of Roy’s neck, murmuring nonsense that Roy knows is supposed to be soothing, and which maybe is. Mostly, it’s reassuring to have Jamie there, whole and hale and safe.

“What’s going on? Is Phoebe all right? Did something happen to your sister? Keeley?” Jamie is starting to sound a little freaked out, and Roy realises that he can’t just stand there mutely forever and let the fears grow in Jamie’s mind, he needs to fucking say something, explain.

He’d rather never say another word.

Tough fucking luck, Kent. “Do you remember what I told you when you said you’d had sex with a dominatrix?”

The way Jamie stiffens tells him that, yeah, Jamie does. “Roy—“

Roy tightens his grip, not wanting Jamie to pull away. “Don’t fucking tell me it was fine, because you were a nightmare for the rest of that day, you were absolutely fucking horrible to everyone.” Worse than usual, lashing out—not that Roy had known it at the time, or had thought it anything more than Jamie being a fucking prick for no other reason than to be a prick.

For a few moments, Jamie doesn’t say anything. Then he lets out a long sigh, relaxing into the embrace and pressing his face against Roy’s neck. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, “it was all shit, mate. I mean, all of it was, it wasn’t just you— But, Roy, listen… “ And now Jamie does pull back, just enough so that he can look at Roy. His eyes are tired, but the set of his jaw determined. “You fucking hated me, right? Back then, I mean. You hated me, ‘cause I was a prick, and I hated you, ‘cause you were a bitter old cunt.”

There’s no fucking denying it, is there. Roy gives a sharp nod. “Yeah, but—“

“No, let me just— I’m not saying that makes it all right, yeah, I just— You hated me, okay. But, would you have said what you said if you’d known what really happened?”

Roy’s lips twist into snarl. “What? No! Of course I wouldn’t fucking have— “ He might have ached to put Jamie’s head through a wall several times a day, but he wouldn’t have stood by for Jamie’s piece of shit father—

“See?” The little twat has the audacity to look triumphant at that, as if he’d scored a particularly neat goal. “That’s what I’m saying, yeah? Even when you hated my guts, you wouldn’t have said that, if you’d known what was going on. But you didn’t know, ‘cause I didn’t want you to, or anyone to, and I’m an amazing actor, yeah? So, like, it’s not fine, but it’s… Don’t beat yourself up over it, man. You didn’t know.”

It’s absolution, the kind Roy doesn’t think he deserves and the Jamie is far too quick to offer. But Jamie is also right: Roy hadn’t known. Wallowing in guilt won’t do anything to change the past, or help Jamie now.

“All right,” Roy says. “But that was still a shit thing to say and I wish hadn’t done it. You never deserved any of what that arsehole did to you, and if… fuck it, when I made you feel like I thought otherwise, that was my fucking bad, and I’m sorry.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.” And there’s a tremulousness to his faint smile that makes Roy think that for all his claims to the contrary, it had still been something Jamie needed to hear.

It does Roy’s fucking head in that Jamie’s been up to see his dad several times since he got word that James Tartt is in rehab. But they’ve argued about that already, bitterly, and Roy has very reluctantly admitted that it’s not his call. All he can do is offer Jamie whatever support he needs, whenever he wants it.

Clearing his throat, Roy gives Jaime an awkward pat on the shoulder before carefully extricating himself fully from the hug. “We’re still on for dinner with Keeley tonight?” He’ll make Jamie’s favourite dish, he decides. Throw in some dessert.

“Yeah, of course, yeah.”

“Good.” He jerks his head to the door. “Go on then, tell the lads to get on the pitch, and we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, Coach.”

As the door shuts behind him, Roy turns on Beard and Nate who – wisely – don’t say anything.

“I don’t want to fucking talk about this,” he tells them sharply. “I don’t want you mentioning a fucking word of it ever again.” Because maybe he’s gotten to a point where having a fucking breakdown and hugging it out with Jamie in front of them isn’t the end of the world (even if it’s a near fucking thing), but if someone tries to make him discuss it, he’ll need to start head-butting people, and he’s been trying to stay off that since he became manager, because it just isn’t a good look, is it, and he’s trying to be better about that sort of thing.

Nate and Beard glance at each other. Roy doesn’t really care for the knowing look in their eyes, but they merely offer a nod and a yeah, yeah, of course, sure in reply, and that will have to do.

In this messed up world, a lot of things would have to fucking do.

“Right,” Roy says, already moving to follow Jamie. “I’ll see you on the fucking pitch.”

---

A/N: This was supposed to be the fourth of the stand alone ficlets I call The Locker Room Conversations, but it got quite a bit darker (and less team focused) than I usually do for those, so I’m not sure. I’ll sit on it for a bit, maybe fiddle a little, and see where I put it when it goes up on AO3 eventually.

If you like the idea of the team uncovering sad truths about Jamie’s past and are into heavier angst (and more of the team taking care of Jamie), I highly recommend checking out i should be the poster kid for this shit by anotherlongstoryshort / babytarttdoodoo

#well-intentioned ribbing lead to unhappy revelations #and references to earlier abuse #and roy having all the emotions about it #there’s also a very long hug because a girl’s gotta get her kicks somehow #james tartt sr is mentioned and his own warning #hurt/comfort #angst #roy kent #jamie tartt #roy & jamie #afc richmond #a team of himbos #who mean well even when they get it wrong #fic #my stuff

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hopefulromances · 8 months

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Yes, Chef - Jamie Tartt

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Reader wakes up with a chronic pain flare up. Jamie just wants to help her.

A/N: Someone once told me to write for me so.... here's something. Wanted to write something for fellow chronic pain/disabled girlies!!!!

OoooO

I woke up and knew it was going to be a bad day. I could feel it in my joints, pain. Just aching pain in my knees and hips, spreading around my muscles like static. I reached over to find Jamie, to find something to cling to but he was gone. Right, early morning training. He wasn’t home. He wouldn’t be home for hours.

I settled myself to get up and get to the couch. At least there I could be near the kitchen to grab food and be near the TV. Jamie would usually want me to call him or text him to tell him it was a bad day but I didn’t want to bother him. It was embarrassing being me. The girl with the invisible disability who woke up some days and could barely walk with the star striker of one of the best teams in the premier league. How could he settle for that?

Despite my worries, Jamie constantly reassured me that it didn’t matter. That it was irrelevant to our lives that my joints hurt all the time for no reason, preventing me from going on walks, exercising, or even standing up sometimes. On those days he would just pick me up, like it was nothing, and carry me wherever I wanted to go.

But he wasn’t here today, and I didn’t want to be a nuisance to him, so I would make do, like I had for years. Before I met Jamie and I had just started living on my own, I couldn’t afford treatment or care so I learned how to survive. I’d done it for months then, I could last one day without Jamie here.

I could feel it as I walked down the stairs. The ache in my knees, popping and stretching with each step. It felt like my joints were made of styrofoam, creaking and screaming threatening to snap with each movement I made. I could feel it in my hips as well. A warm aching pain that spread to my back, making even standing feel difficult. I flopped onto the couch, finally, feeling instant relief from being off my feet. I took a deep breath, it was going to be a long time.

Jamie arrived around 5 that afternoon. I hopped up off the couch, regretting it almost immediately, but I managed to hide my wince as I walked over to him.

“Hi Jamie,” I greeted, cheerfully smiling.

“Hey, babe.” He wrapped an arm around me and planted a kiss on my head before walking off towards the kitchen. “D’you wanna cook somethin’ for dinner?”

I started my walk towards the kitchen, walking stiffly but trying not to show it. “Sure! We can make pasta? We have your weird, zoodles, or whatever.”

“You alright?” He checked, looking me up and down.

“Yeah, fine!” I brushed him off, walking over to the refrigerator to start pulling out ingredients. “Want to start boiling some water?”

Jamie’s eyes remained on me, watching my every movement. Fuck, I was trying so hard not to step to hard on my knee, knowing he’d be able to tell it was bothering me.

“Y/N, stop,” He commanded, coming over to shut the refrigerator. “Jus’ stop.”

“Jamie, I’m fine,” I insisted, trying to duck away from him. I reached for the refrigerator door handle but he stepped in front of me, crossing his arms.

I rolled my neck, letting out a huff. He stared down at me but I refused to meet his eyes, leaning back against the island behind me. We stood there in silence, Jamie waiting for me to crack but I was unyielding. He didn’t get it. He couldn’t get it.

“Y/N,” he started again. “I just don’t understand why-”

“Exactly, you don’t understand,” I snapped. My voice betrayed me, daring to crack and show my emotion. “So please, just let me do this.”

“You’re in pain!”

“Yes, Jamie! I’m always in pain,” I cried. I hated the way my eyes flooded with tears when I was angry. I hated the way my voice wavered and deepened with the ball growing in my throat. “Every fucking day I wake up and I’m in pain.”

This was what I was trying to avoid, the truth of my chronic pain that is so hard to describe to other people that just don’t understand. But Jamie just looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed as he waited for me to continue.

“Jamie…”

“No, please,” He nodded, genuine. “Explain it to me. I want to understand.”

I took a breath and chewing on my bottom lip. My eyes darted back and forth as I figured out exactly what I was going to say.

“It’s like I look in the mirror and I think I should be able to do all these things,” I explain, trying to put into words the feeling in my body. “But then I can't, or I can but it really hurts and I’m exhausted afterwards. And it’s the most frustrating thing in the world. Like I want to rip my hair out of my head.”

“I see you and everything you can do and it’s so amazing. But I feel soooo… inadequate sometimes. Like I can’t walk up the stairs without my knees aching but you… you can do so much more. And yeah today it’s bad. I spent the whole day on the couch. But now you’re home and I just want to cook with you. I just want to be able to do one thing without feeling so… useless.”

Jamie pursed his lips. I could see the cogs turning in his head as he processed what I said. I was afraid if I looked too hard you could see smoke coming out of his ears. Then he walked away. I ran a hand over my face, scrambling to save this.

“Jamie, wait, this isn’t about you, it’s not your– what are you doing?”

Jamie walked over to the counter and grabbed one of our tall bar chairs and brought it over to the island.

“Sit,” he instructed. I frowned but he just pointed before repeating. “Sit.”

I pouted and sat in the chair. Jamie moved quietly, grabbing ingredients out of the fridge in front of me. This had to be a sick joke. He was really going to make me sit there, watching him move and cook when I just told him that’s what I wanted to do.

He grabbed the cutting board and placed it in front of me. Then he placed the tomatoes, garlic, and other ingredients in front of me as well.

“Chop,” he directed me, motioning to the food and utensils. I looked down and realized what he was doing. I hesitated and Jamie let out a sign and turned my chair towards him. “Y/N.”

I looked up at him with big eyes and he chuckled, bringing his fingers to my chin, shaking my head slightly.

“You’re not useless,” he insisted, rubbing his thumb over my chin. “You are stubborn as hell though.” I breathed out a laugh, letting the corner of my lips turn slightly. He sighed, sliding his hands down so they were on the chair on either side of my hips. “Y’know, maybe I could help you. You ever think of that in his big brain of yours?”

He knocked his forehead against might, lightly.

“You’re not inadequate, or a burden, or any of those other awful things that I know are rolling around in your head,” he continued. “It hurts me to know that you’re in pain and I’m sorry if I’m overbearing. But can we work together on this? Yeah? Figure out ways for you to be involved and do the things you wanna do. But in a way that doesn’t hurt you so much.” He pushed back some hair from my face, cradling my head in his hand. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I squeaked out, kissing his palm.

He smiled at me, pulling me into a sweet kiss. I sighed into the kiss, relishing the slight pressure that his lips pressed onto mine, filling even the shortest of kisses with so much love.

“Alright, now these tomatoes aren’t going to cut themselves,” he ordered, pointing to the cutting board. “Let me get my zoodles ready.”

And he walked off. How could he do that? How could he kiss me and take my breath away and just walk off like it was nothing. I smiled as he went back to his normal routine, starting to ramble about training and the number of suicides that Roy had him run. I started chopping and chatting along. It wasn’t much, but just knowing that he heard me and – at least on some level – understood me, made my heart soar.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort

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jamtartandsunshine · 2 months

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It starts small, inconsequential really. But Roy, he knows the signs, this isn't his first rodeo, as Ted would say. That thought makes him curse beneath his breath. Sounds like something fucking Lasso would say. It makes Roy's blood boil a little. He hates that the fucking cowboy coach has gotten into his head. But the point is, Roy notices. It's small but its there. Roy notices the way Jamie tips back the protein shaker, as he stands in the locker room laughing with the boys, but the liquid inside doesn't actually seem to go down. He notices the way Jamie's hands sometimes tremble as he picks up his water bottle in the gym. Having pushed himself harder then any of the rest of them. He notices the way Jamie jots down notes in a little pocket notebook at lunch. Roy doesn't see what's in it, but he'd bet his championship trophy its that stats of whatever Jamie's eating at lunch. Its not new. Everyone has macros to track, protein goals to reach. Carefully controlled carb intakes, but there's a darkness to Jamie's eyes as he scribbles hastily in his little notebook. Roy knows that look, and a part of him wants to look away, pretend he didn't see it, pretend he doesn't know the signs for what they are. He looks around the room, everyone is eating and laughing, they don't see what Roy is seeing. Most of them barely even spare Jamie a glance. Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck it. It has to be Roy, it can't be anyone fucking else.

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lunar-years · 10 months

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did anyone ever write the fic where Rupert's scheme to get Cartrick/West Ham to incapacitate Jamie/injury him out of the game is successful? If so please drop me the fic links/recs my hands are wide open 👐🙏

#this is so exactly what I want to read tonight #just some beautiful classic jamie hurt/comfort #but i don't know if it exists or if it's something we just all talked about wanting to exist and then none of us wrote lol #ted lasso #jamie tartt

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royjamielibrary · 5 months

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RoyJamie Recomendations — Marbella (Part 1)

but i'm a fire and i'll keep your brittle heart warm by instantcaramel (Rating: Mature | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 12,736 | Setting: Post-Season 2 Canon Divergence | POV: Jamie | Tropes: Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort | Warnings: Abuse/Domestic Violence, Depression, Suicidal Ideation)

It’s tough enough to get through the day while keeping up as much of the old Jamie as he possibly can before he’s just ready to collapse into bed and sleep for twelve hours. He just needs everyone to see that he’s okay. Maybe somewhere deep down he thinks if they believe it, he’ll start believing it. Maybe he just wants to be left alone. He doesn’t really know anymore.

“Did you think you were the only person who thought Marbella was a good holiday spot?” Jamie grins. “Nah, I talked to Keeley. She said she dumped you and thought you might need company after I asked her where I should go.” or, jamie and roy fall in love in marbella, get married, split up, and figure out their shit.

"Keeley mentioned you had a spare ticket to Marbs. Said I should come and keep you company." "How did you-" "Top bird, that Kathy of yours. She had the tickets changed into my name in no time at all." Or, what happens when Jamie joins Roy for the trip to Marbella.

Jamie’s been sitting in the BA lounge for half an hour when he starts to wonder if it’s all a stupid idea. Keeley’s, of course. Jamie had no part in it other than nodding and agreeing that yes, a few weeks of Spanish sun would do him well, and no, no he wouldn’t have to see Roy all that much because the villa’s huge, and okay he’ll let Keeley sort it all out for him, maybe if he could just flick Roy a wee text when he gets there that would be great, yeah? Roy gets some company for the summer. Insert shocked Pikachu.

When Keeley breaks up with Roy after his spontaneous plans to whisk her away to Marbella for the summer, he makes the trip by himself, intent on forgetting about the break up as best he can through as much booze, tapas, and sunshine as one person can manage during one miserable summer. The last thing he expects is for his car to break down during a road trip up the Spanish coast, where he finds none other than Jamie fucking Tartt - who fell off the face of the Earth after his stint on Lust Conquers All - working in a seaside bar. Post-season 2 AU where, after getting kicked off of Lust Conquers All, Jamie decides not to return to England or football.

#ted lasso #royjamie #jamie tartt #roy kent #general content #m content #complete #post-season 2 #alternating pov #jamie pov #roy pov #getting together #angst #hurt/comfort #ted lasso fic #royjamie fic #jamie x roy #roy x jamie

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jamietarttsnorthernattitude · 10 months

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Rupert Mannion: Take out Tartt

Cartrick: No

Fanfic writers: On it!

#ted lasso #can’t help myself #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #hurt/comfort #ted lasso fanfic #ao3 #whumpblr

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goodmorninglovelies42 · 6 months

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New from me. Jamie has the flu. Jamie goes to training, anyway. It does not go well.

Many thanks to the @thetarttfuldickhead, @catalogercas, @fanficfanattic, and @troublegoblin for their thoughtful and helpful comments on an earlier draft.

#jamie tartt #roy kent #keeley jones #royjamiekeeley #there was so much more here to explore #especially when it comes to professional sports and its demand on athletes #plus gender and Jamie's feelings of Roy's expectations #i may work on an alternate version at a future point #anyway please accept some self indulgent sickfic with a dose of hurt/comfort

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sparrow-in-the-field · 10 months

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I think a fun dynamic of established relationship ot3 would be if Jamie and Roy sometimes accidentally slip back into their old competitive ways with Keeley, just like, out of habit.

Like maybe Keeley's holed up in bed with bad period cramps or something and it's just like:

Roy: I brought you chocolate.

Jamie: I bought you higher quality chocolate.

Roy: well mine is a bigger bar and I also got you an herbal tea that's supposed--

Jamie: screw herbal tea, I got you a heating pad--

And eventually she just tells them to knock it off, reminding them that they like each other, or at least take the fight elsewhere because she doesn't feel well enough to deal with their nonsense (not before first collecting all of her goods of course)

#roy jamie keeley #jamie tartt #roy kent #keeley jones #roy x jamie x keeley #ted lasso ot3 #royjamiekeeley #hurt/comfort #but make it a competition #keeley: it's exhausting dating two men but it has its perks too #the perks in this case are double the chocolate

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cuppachar · 6 months

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Jamie Tartt, Battler by Cuppa_Char

Fandoms:Ted Lasso (TV)

Gen

Summary:

Jamie signs up for the auction.

When Ms Welton asks what made him change his mind, Jamie just shrugs and grins.

“We’re a team, ain’t we?” Jamie finds himself saying again. “Gotta wear the same kit.”

----

He tries to look away, turns sluggishly to the left only to see Cheryl grinning - leering at him, the image of Keeley teasingly mouthing her tongue through her fingers - and suddenly it’s not the auction or the function room of a swanky hotel room - it’s a room behind the glass window, draped red curtains, and a body pressed over him, whispering ‘that’s it, such a good boy’ and the memory of his dad yelling ‘go on lad, make your old man proud’.

Trigger Warning: Child abuse, non/con, mention of underage rape, Amsterdam Trauma, Charity Auction Trauma

#fic #mine #jamie tartt #hurt/comfort #tw noncon #amsterdam trauma #charity auction trauma #roy kent #ted lasso #afc richmond #ptsd

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swiftietartt · 5 months

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i feel like someone has punched me in the guts (but i kind of like it cause it feels like being in love) by afterafternoons / swiftietartt

not rated • completed • 6k • roy & jamie & keeley, roy/keeley, roy/jamie

Roy’s standing on the touchline, arms crossed over his chest when it happens; Jamie makes one, over-ambitious pass at the ball, and then he’s sliding, his boots tearing up the pitch until he’s flat out on his back, nearly trampled, as his head slams back, hard, against the ground.

“Get up.” Roy says, for Ted and Beard’s ears only. Then, eyebrows knitting together the longer Jamie lies, he needles, under his breath, “C’mon, Tartt. Get the fuck up.”

In which Jamie sustains a concussion in training.

Read on Ao3

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #keeley jones #royjamie #roykeeley #afc richmond #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort fic #fanfic #fic #my writing

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nativestarwrites · 9 months

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From your Drabble list! #5 for Ted lasso :))

Thanks for the ask! This is set early S3, Jame and Roy get caught up in a fight outside a pub.

The fight didn’t even involve them, innocent bystanders caught up in a brawl with a drunken idiot and a violent arsehole. It lasted seconds, Roy barely had time to block a hit and make a fist before security had intervened. Jamie wasn’t so lucky, the fight left him unconscious and crumpled against the wall of the pub, his skin reddened high on his cheekbone from a solid punch. “Jamie, Jamie!” Roy raised his voice, holding back his panic, as his hand tapped at Jamie’s uninjured cheek. “Oi! Can you hear me? Open your eyes.” Jamie’s eyes fluttered, giving Roy a glimpse of white before they closed again with a soft groan. “Oi! Eyes on me! C’mon Tartt, keep those eyes on me.” His thumb brushed across Jamie’s cheek as he watched the effort it cost Jamie to open his eyes, but he’d never once not done what his coach had asked of him. Something that both scared and humbled Roy. “Y’worried ‘bout me?” Jamie teased, his slurred words concerning Roy almost as much as the confusion he could see lurking in the back of his eyes. And they’d definitely be discussing that when Jamie was a little less concussed and little more likely to remember the conversation. “Yes, I’m worried.” He ground out. “My best player’s got himself a fucking concussion.” “Thought Zava’s th’best?” “He is, but…” Roy sighed, fuck, but if it kept Jamie awake and talking… and he probably wouldn’t even remember this anyway. “I like you better.”

#drabble challenge #ask game #Ted Lasso #Jamie Tartt #Hurt/comfort

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hopefulromances · 10 months

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can you do #5&6 where jamie is comforting his girlfriend?

5. “Why are you crying?”

6. “Talk to me.”

Is this self indulgent... yes... now continue

You didn't know when it started. You just felt so hopeless. It'd been months since you lost your job, leaving you unemployed. You had been so high. Doing so well. Happy, healthy, in love. Now you could barely leave your bed, much less force yourself to cook or work out.

It came to a head today when you finally decided to leave the house and ended up with a parking ticket. A parking ticket. You stared at the ticket in despair. This had to be a sign that you never needed to leave your house again.

"Goddamnit, god fucking damnnit," You cursed to yourself, feeling that thickness in your throat that always indicated you were about to lose it.

You crumpled up the ticket in your hand and slammed the door to your car, finally going inside the house. You headed straight to your room, not even noticing that Jamie was home.

"Hey babe what's goin- Woah!" Jamie didn't even have time to process what was going on when you ran straight past him and closed the door to your room. He could hear you sniffling on the other side of the door and it broke his heart.

He walked over to the door and leaned against the wall, knocking softly. "Babe? Why are you crying?"

"Go away, Jamie," you croaked from behind the door.

Well he wasn't gonna do that. He frowned leaning his forehead against the door. "I"m not going away until you let me in." You were quiet on the other side of the door. No noises except for the occasional sob. "And if you don't tell me what's wrong I'll just start singing and not stop."

That drew a little giggle out of you but you still didn't open the door.

"Alright, you've asked for it," Jamie took a big breath. "AND I! HAD THE TIME OF MY LIFE! AND I NEVER FELT THIS WAY BEFORE! AND I SWEAR! IT'S THE TRUTH! AND I'M HOLDING ONTO YOOOU!"

You door flew open and you appeared, your eyes red from tears but at least the door was opened.

"Okay, okay, I'm here just..." You let out a large sigh and let Jamie into the room.

You sat on the floor, back resting on your bed frame. Jame came over to sit next to you, looking down at you.

"Hey," He nudged you. "Talk to me."

You frowned and shook your head, speaking quietly. "I just don't think I was meant to be unemployed."

Now it was Jamie's turn to frown. He knew you weren't doing well on that front, but no matter how many times he reassured you that it would be okay, you still ended up in your head about it.

"And I get it, a lot of people are unemployed right now, okay I do?" It was like you'd read his mind. "But I'm sick of it. I was doing so well! So well. And now what? I get up lay around then go to bed at night? I just... I need to have some purpose, Jamie. Something that gives me worth. And today," You held up the crumpled piece of paper. "I got a fucking parking ticket. First time I've left the house in like weeks and this happens."

Jamie let the two of you sit in silence for a minute. He let you cry, just sitting there next to you, letting you know he was there.

"Well give me this," he snatched the ticket out of your hand. "I can take care of this."

"Jamie, I don't need you to-"

"Well I want to. I love paying parking tickets. Do you know how many parking ticket's Colin's got?" He laughed. "A lot. And as for the rest of it. It sucks. A lot." He wrapped an arm around you and tugged you into his side. "But you don't need a job to give you worth. Keeley told me that once and it seemed true enough for me but for you it's definitely true." You chuckled, tearfully. Jamie squeezed your extra tight, wrapping another arm around your waist for extra squeezage. "You're worth a lot to me. Like waaay more than any job could give you."

You smiled, finally, giving in to Jamie's affection. You shoved your face into his chest, letting him hold on to you. He kissed your head, rubbing up and down your back with his hand.

"Thank you, Jamie," You mutter, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

Jamie's heart swelled, happy that he could provide you with some comfort. He leaned down and peppered kisses across your head. "Always, baby, always."

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #drabble #fluff #hurt/comfort

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jamtartandsunshine · 2 months

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“Roy?” Jamie asks softly “Why are you doing this man? You hate me.” Roy sighs, setting the plates on the counter and turning to face Jamie, who’s got his arms crossed protectively across his chest and what Roy can only describe as a hopeful scowl on his face. He’s just a fucking kid Roy thinks to himself.

#fic: we're all waving flags #ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #afc richmond #hurt/comfort #keeley jones #isaac mcadoo #sam obisanya #posting another snippet to self motivate dont mind me

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lunar-years · 9 months

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do you have any hurt/comfort jamie fic recs? looking for physical injury in particular, but i’m a sucker for emotional hurt/comfort too :)

of course! here u go

Gen -

held onto hope (like a noose, like a rope) by scarlettroses - tw James Tartt Sr. abuse; emotional hurt/comfort and it's heavy but it's so good! Jamie's dad is very ill and Roy & Keeley etc. help him through that.

My troubles are all over, and I am at home by Vamillepudding - tw James Tartt Sr./canon-typical abuse; canon divergence where Roy sees Jamie and his dad in the boot room during the season one finale, instead of Ted

The Hedgehog's Dilemma by @kvetchinglyneurotic - tw James Tartt Sr./canon typical abuse; season one canon divergence where Jamie's dad calls him and insists he come up to Manchester, right after Jamie got benched. Roy worries about where he's at and then we go on a fun speedrun of character development & friendship :)

every emotion that i'm meant to express by @babytarttdoodoo : Jamie has a panic attack during Mom City and Roy & Keeley help him through

Lemons and Lavender by LivingProof - tw James Tartt Sr.; a car accident puts Jamie in the hospital, his dad comes to see him but luckily Roy and Ted are close behind

Roy/Jamie -

I Get By With a Little Help by @belmottetower - tw rape facilitated by James Tartt Sr.; Jamie rape recovery hurt/comfort with, as the tags imply, much more comfort than hurt. There is also a second part with even more comfort :)

Somethin' Stupid by @catalogercas - appendicitis on the bus to an away game! oh no! Not yet complete but chapter 2 of 3 was posted today and it is amazing.

Falling Up by @catalogercas - amnesia!Jamie. all that from doing headers with Phoebe :( it's not super angsty and in fact is very cute. Jamie even meets the yoga mums in the funniest way. incredible content.

i watched the world without knowing what to look for by buckstiel -future fic about the injury that ends Jamie's career

Roy/Jamie/Keeley -

the body of someone you love by @goodmorninglovelies42 - Jamie gets into a minor car accident and needs stitches, Roy does not handle this well

Love Me For Who I Am (Where I Am) by pepperlandgirl4 - Jamie is injured during a match and it results in temporary amnesia shortly after rjk all get together

Chase All The Ghosts From Your Head by @valonia47 - tw for implied homophobia; Jamie is beat up by a crazy City fan at a nightclub with plenty of comfort afterwards from Roy, Keeley & his mum <3

bruised like violets by inlovewithnight - tw stalkers/kidnapping - Jamie gets abducted and it's very scary for everyone involved... but luckily there is a happy ending and lots of comfort! :)

the blood in your mouth, I wish it was mine by inlovewithnight - tw non-con, Rupert Mannion; I feel like i put this on every rec list lmao but i truly do love it. very dark but the rjk comfort is sooooo my everything

they threw me a whirlwild and I spat back the sea by inlovewithnight - tw abuse/semi-graphic description of hand injury; James Tartt Sr.'s mates pay Jamie a visit, Jamie calls Keeley (and by extension, Roy) to help get him to the hospital

no amount of coffee, no amount of crying by shampoobaby - allergies!! classic sickfic, Jamie has hay fever :( poor bb

P.S. If you are one of these authors and I have not tagged your tumblr it simply means I do not know it, but please drop me a comment or message if you'd like and I will update the list with your blog accordingly :)

#tried to keep it mostly physical injury stuff for you but a few emotional hurt comforts snuck in :)#fic recs #jamie tartt #ted lasso #royjamie #royjamiekeeley #hurt/comfort #fic list #asks

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royjamielibrary · 7 months

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RoyJamie Recomendations — Works in Progress (Part 1)

“Name’s Jamie Tartt, mate.” And there’s something about the way his eyebrows arch, the way his smile changes, slants at the corners with arrogance like he thinks he’s doing Roy a favor introducing himself — “I’m your new executive sous.” He’s dropped his hand now, and Roy half-wishes he’d taken it while he had the chance, because now they’re just standing there, sizing each other up in some demented, testosterone-fueled parody of a staring contest, and it’s horribly awkward. Roy grunts. “That’s weird, because I think I’d remember it if I hired a fucking thrift store mannequin to work in my restaurant.”

He’s about to get into the driver’s seat when another flash goes off right in his face and some smirky fucker says, “So, you like taking it up the ass?” “Love it,” Jamie’s mouth says before Jamie’s brain can get in on the action. “Feels fucking great. Have a good day!” Or: the post-Season 1 fic where, Instead of self-destruction via reality show, Jamie tries self-destruction via public and very messy coming out. It works out better than expected.

There’s a part of Jamie that’s still thirteen and awestruck, or seventeen and infatuated, or twenty-two and bitter and still fucking obsessed, that still can’t believe he lives in a world where he gets to have stuff like Roy Kent inviting him over for tea. Can’t quite believe this is his life. Jamie’s summer, and beyond.

“Jamie. They want to have a season where the lead is openly bisexual, and they have men and women contestants. And they called me. Asking about you.” “Holy shit,” Jamie breathed, steadying himself against his kitchen counter. “They want me to be the fucking Bachelor?” or, jamie is the bachelor. roy is a contestant-but not by his own will. the world gets to watch them fall in love anyway.

In a world where everything is a distraction, his Master's thesis deadline is rapidly approaching and the pressures of academia are crushing, university student Jamie Tartt finds a unique safe space with a handsome broody man willing to help him get his work done, through positive or negative enforcement. At Nelson Road Cafe, incentives and coffee orders are customisable.

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