#jamie tartt oneshot
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Hiiiiii!!!! I love Apple Pie by Lizzy McAlpine!! Can I get Jamie Tartt to apple pie?
apple pie | jamie tartt
based on the song apple pie by lizzy mcalpine
description: jamie gets insecure sometimes, but having you with him helps.
pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (f!reader she/her)
warnings: lots of kissing, self-doubt, insecurities, mention of jamie's dad
word count: 2631
ted lasso requests are open | main masterlist
When Jamie first got into a relationship with you, he knew that both of your busy schedules would pose a problem down the road. With his football career seemingly reaching new peaks every season and your acting career taking off after being cast in what is being called “the film that revived the dying genre of romantic comedies,” the amount of time you get to spend with each other decreased significantly since the start of your relationship.
You first met Jamie halfway through his returning season at AFC Richmond. You met him at a birthday dinner party for a friend of a friend where you relentlessly teased him for his ridiculous, but outstanding performance, on Lust Conquers All. You had originally praised him for it when you were fully under the impression that he was putting on an act. You didn’t find out that he was just being his prick-ish self, albeit his younger prick-ish self, until about four months into your relationship when he embarrassedly admitted it to you. That’s how you found yourself rewatching the entire season together on his couch until 2 hours before Roy knocked on his door for his training session.
At first, Jamie thought you were making fun of him. His insecurities would still peek in here and there and sometimes he couldn’t help but worry that you’d see him as nothing more than a dumb footballer like everyone else does. He quickly realized, though, that while you were losing your mind laughing at how he acted in the show, making fun of him was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Why’d ya wanna watch this shit anyways?” he grumbled, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. “It’s just poopy. ‘M not even like that anymore.”
“I know,” you sat up, pausing the show when you heard his voice crack. You knew the tone of Jamie’s voice when he was cracking jokes and when he was happy, and this voice wasn’t one or the other. You turned your body to face him, “I know you aren’t like this anymore, I just thought it would be funny.”
“I dunno, I suppose it doesn’t make much sense to me.”
“What doesn’t?” you questioned. “Why I want to watch it?”
“Yeah,” Jamie replied. His eyes were looking at everything but at you. He was playing with the threads of the blanket loosely draped over his legs. He rubbed his nose with his balled-up fist. “Why does it matter how I was before you? I’m better now, yeah? Unless you don’t think so...”
“Oh, love,” you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you. You were so engrossed in the episode on the TV that you didn’t realize how uncomfortable Jamie was feeling about the whole situation. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention to how you were feeling about this. We can stop watching it.”
“Yeah, I’d like that.” He hummed, tugging on your hoodie to pull you closer to him. “I just don’t want you to see how I used to be and realize you don’t want to be with a prick like that, even if I have changed, you know? I don’t know… I just thought that with ya, I’d have a fresh start.”
“Jamie Tartt, enough of that now,” You took over being the big spoon, which made Jamie nuzzle into your neck contently, “You have changed. You’re an amazing man and the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. I only wanted to watch this show because it’s such a shitty show that it’s nice to just unwind. When I watch this Jamie on the screen, my brain can’t even comprehend that it’s you.”
“You don’t think I’m a prick anymore, yeah?” Jamie asked again, hoping that he’d get a confirmation, “Like you wouldn’t leave me over that?”
You’ve learned over the past few months things about Jamie– one of which is that he needs to be told positive things or else he’d spiral. The thing is, if you could go into his mind and turn off that control box that spews self-doubt and insecurities to him, you would do it in a heartbeat. But since you can’t, you were more than happy to shower him with love and adoration in hopes that your voice can drown the rest of them out.
“Never,” you placed your lips on his in a soft kiss. “You’d have to work a hell of a lot harder to get rid of me.”
“I’m working double overtime just so you’d keep me, love,” he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss. His hand reached for the remote to turn the TV off to leave you both in the glow of the floor lamp in his living room.
“You don’t have to work hard for that.”
Jamie had gotten used to having you around his flat. He would leave for 4 AM training with Roy with you on his bed, often naked, then return at around 6:30 AM to shower and join you back in bed for another hour before you woke up. He’d wake up for the second time that day with you drawing patterns on his chest and a soft smile on your face. He’d lean over and place a loving kiss on your lips and he’d feel prepared to start the day.
You were filming a show in London for three months, which meant that for three months, this was Jamie’s life. In between projects, you stayed at his place. For two weeks after the wrap party, you came home to him, visited him at the facility, and went to all the team outings, home games, and away games with him. He was with you 24/7 and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He didn’t realize how he took it for granted until filming ended.
Three weeks ago, you flew to New York City to begin filming another movie. With training and games, Jamie hasn’t been able to take time off to visit you, and with filming just starting, you couldn’t fly back to Richmond either.
Jamie was doing fine– as fine as someone can be when their daily routine was abruptly disrupted. He was proud of you. The premise of the movie seemed perfect for you and was a seamless continuation of the romantic comedy trend you were on. People were buzzing for your next project, especially after your last one was so well received. He was so proud of you…. But he also missed you.
During the three weeks that you were gone, you and Jamie still texted each other constantly and FaceTimed everyday, despite the crazy time difference. He wanted to make it work, and so did you, so you did what you could to stay in touch. While not being able to hold you and kiss you for three weeks was killing Jamie, he was glad he was still able to spend time with you. Things didn’t get to Jamie until Jan Maas made an off-handed comment about it.
All of them were packing up after training, feeling extremely antsy with the Man City match on the horizon, Jamie especially. There were a lot of things on his mind, including the possibility of seeing his father, who he hadn’t seen since Wembley, and playing against his old team was always a trip. In short, he wasn’t feeling his best and the fact that you weren’t nearby made it worse.
“Jamie, we have not seen Y/N in a while,” Sam noted, “Is everything okay with you two?”
“She’s filming a movie in New York, bruv,” Isaac replied before Jamie could speak, “Right, Tartt?”
Jamie nodded, putting his shirt over his head, “Yeah. She’ll be gone for a few months, at least.”
“I do not know how you’re gonna survive, Jamie,” Jan Maas said. “You are so clingy when it comes to her. I don’t think you can make it all those months.”
The rest of the team chuckled at Jan’s teasing tone, but Jamie furrowed his eyebrows in thought. Was he clingy? He frowned as he continued to put his things away. He picked up his phone from his cubby, smiling when he received a few messages from you while he was at training. As he was about to respond, Jan’s comment made him stop in his tracks.
Maybe it would be best to let you have a night to yourself. You had a life outside of him and you deserve to be able to live it without having him cling to you all the time. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, slipping his phone in his back pocket, before walking out of the locker room to head to his place.
When you woke up to no text from Jamie, you assumed that he was just worn out from training and didn’t have the energy to reply. You’ve seen the intense training he went through, so you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. But as the day went on and there was still no word from Jamie– you’d even checked the timezone clock on your phone to make sure you weren’t being unreasonable– you began to worry. FaceTime calls went unanswered and instead, you were met with the Apple automated response, “Sorry, can’t talk right now.”
To: lover boy <3
“Hi, love. Got some exciting news, you free to chat? Xx”
By the time you were boarding the plane to Manchester, Jamie still hadn’t texted you back. After begging the producers to give you a week off filming, they finally agreed. You asked for this week in particular, knowing that you wanted to be there for Jamie for the Man City match. There was a lot on the line for Jamie and you wanted to be there for him no matter what happened.
The entire plane ride back to England was filled with dread and anxiety. It wasn’t like Jamie to not respond. Unless he was at a game, training, or sleeping, but even then he had a special ringtone for you that wakes him up whenever you called, he always replied to your messages as soon as possible. When you landed, everything that could go wrong went wrong. Your plane was stuck on the tarmac for an hour because there were problems with the gate. Your luggage got delayed which left you sitting at baggage claim for another 45 minutes. When you finally arrived at the hotel the team was staying at– shoutout to Ted for being yours and Jamie’s number one supporter and telling you where they were staying– Jamie was nowhere to be found.
You dragged your luggage to Jamie’s room, plopping on the bed tiredly. You glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. 9:28 PM. Ted mentioned that there was a 10 PM curfew so you hoped that tonight was not one of the nights where Jamie decided to break the rules. Ted also mentioned that Jamie has not been himself lately, which did nothing to soothe your panic. You hopped in the shower to rinse yourself from the long day you’ve had. You did your night routine and dug into Jamie’s bag to retrieve his AFC Richmond hoodie. Before putting it on, you held it up to your nose, sighing as your senses were filled with Jamie. You missed him.
It was 9:57 PM when you heard the door unlock. You were on his bed, scrolling aimlessly on social media, when you saw him. You sat up, shutting your phone off. He walked in with his head low. His shoulders were hunched over a bit, but he looked okay. He looked better than how Ted described him.
He kicked off his shoes, before looking at you on his bed, startled. His eyes widened, first in fear that there was someone in his room, then in surprise that it was you in his room. His lips curved down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in sadness.
“Baby,” you whispered, moving to the side of the bed to make room for him.
Jamie knew that he needed to not be clingy. He didn’t want to bother you too much. He was trying to be cool. But when you called him “baby,” with that voice, in his hoodie on his bed, his resolve crumbled to pieces.
He ran to you, nearly tackling you off the bed when he engulfed you in his arms. He buried his face in your neck, a mix of your lotion and the cologne he sprays on his clothes surrounding him. You cradled the back of his head, mumbling how much you missed him into his shoulder. Jamie could cry. He hasn’t seen you in so long, but here you are now.
“What are you doing here?” He asked when he finally pulled away from you. He couldn’t stray too far though. His arm was still wrapped around you while you cuddled into his side. “I thought you were in New York.”
“Well, if you bothered to answer my texts,” you trailed off, faking a voice of sadness. You poked his side, “You would’ve seen that I had exciting news. The producers gave me a week off after begging them since I first got to New York and this week is perfect because I know tomorrow’s match is gonna be a lot for you. I wanted to be here for you, whatever the outcome is.”
“Oh.” Jamie was speechless. Here he was ignoring you like a prick while you were planning to come back just to be here for him. He didn’t deserve you.
“Yeah,” you continued, “If tomorrow we celebrate, I’ll be here making sure that you drink enough water so that your hangover the next day won’t be too much. If tomorrow we try to never think about it again, I’ll sit next to you on the bus in silence holding your hand and when we get home we can do the same thing.”
Home. You were here and he felt like he was home.
“I missed you so much,” Jamie sighed. He kissed you all over your face, giving your lips extra attention. “‘M sorry if I was bothering you by texting and calling so much over the last few weeks… I just missed you loads and I wanted to talk to you.”
“Baby, you didn’t text and call me enough,” you played with his hair, running your fingers through the strands. “If it was possible, I would stay on a call with you all day, everyday. Can’t get enough of ya.”
He smiled, his worries disappearing with every word you said, “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah, I love you, Jamie Tartt.” You kissed him deeply. “Couldn’t get tired of you even after a million years. Now, catch me up! Tell me everything.”
Jamie, feeling like himself again, began to tell you everything you missed over the last few weeks– meeting Sam’s father, meeting Ted’s mum, Roy and Keeley, and seeing his mum earlier that night, which is why he came home late. He talked about how a visit to Georgie and Simon helped lift his spirits, and how Georgie was gushing about you and asking him when you’ll come to visit again.
Then he talked about his fears for tomorrow and everything that’s been piling up on him ever since you left. As he spoke, you rubbed his back comfortingly, a small reminder that you’ll always be here no matter what.
Jamie knew that he still had a lot of work to do. He knew that his insecurities could get the best of him sometimes and it can cause him to push back on people who love and care about him, but he was trying. You believed in him and that’s all he needed.
#ted lasso fics#ted lasso#ted lasso imagines#ted lasso imagine#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt fanfic#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt x yn#jamie tartt oneshot#frances writes#frances song fics
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Could you do a Roy or Jamie fic where the reader gets hurt? Even something silly like getting hit in the head with a ball at practice or something! They’re super concerned and want to take care of them! I also love angst…sorry if it’s a stupid idea. No worries if you don’t want to write it 💜✨
Jamie Tartt*Practise Mishap
Pairing: Jamie x f!reader
Word count: 1291
Warnings: reader getting hit by a football (which hurts a lot btw from experience), Jamie feeling guilty, fluff
A/n: i love this idea btw ive been wanting to write something like this for a while but i made this more fluff than angst
Masterlist here
You’d never actually seen Jamie at practise. There was the occasional time where you dropped him off or picked him up after, but you never lingered since he needed to concentrate. However today Jamie in all his genius managed to forget his phone this morning.
“Wouldn’t have forgotten it if you hadn’t have distracted me love,” he teased, a smirk toying on his lips that made you smack his chest.
“Can you not?” you said, nodding to where the coaches stood only a couple feet away.
Of course, Roy heard. A loud groan came from him before he barked at Jamie, “Back on the field Tartt,”
“You staying to watch Jamie in action?” Ted asked, far more politely than Roy who was sulking at the suggestion.
You looked between him and Jamie who seemed to perk up at the idea, “Is that allowed?”
“I don’t see why not,”
“Maybe he’ll actually put some effort in,” Roy mumbled.
Jamie just rolled his eyes at Roy before giving you a quick kiss, “Get ready to see the king in action,” he said before running back on the field as you laughed.
“How do you stand him?” Roy grunted.
Truthfully you found Jamie’s cockiness annoyingly attractive, but you didn’t think Roy needed to hear that. “What can I say? I’m a saint,” you joked.
Even though the practise was interesting at first it was just boys kicking balls around a field and the illusion quickly worn off. That plus you were supposed to get a bunch of things done at home since it was a rare day off. You turned to Ted to tell him, “I’ll probably shoot off in a minute or two,” you said at the same time as someone yelled “Watch out!”
Roy tried to grab your arm, pulling you out the way, but not fast enough and a ball planted right in the middle of your chest, knocking you off your feet. You hit the ground with a thud and all the air was knocked out your lungs.
You heard Jamie shout your name, but you were too busy coughing up a storm and trying not to be sick. Roy and Ted had crouched down beside you, Beard shouting for Nate to run for the first aider. “Are you alright love?” Jamie asked, dropping to his knees beside you.
“I think- “your attempts to speak was interrupted by more coughing and the urge to be sick, “Ow,” you winced.
“What the fuck were you doing Colin?” you heard the footballers begin to argue as they all rushed to your side.
“I was trying to pass to Isaac! I didn’t know he didn’t see me,”
“When I said improve your kick, I didn’t mean kill Jamie’s bird,” Roy yelled at him, standing up.
Ted tried to calm him, but it was Jamie who spoke first, “Oi! The lot of you move it. you’re crowding her now piss off,” his anger washed off his face when he turned back to you, “C’mon love let’s get you some help,”
“I’m fine,” you winced as Jamie pulled you to your feet.
“No, you’re not now be quiet and let me help you,” he said as he helped you over to sit on a bench at the side. The first aider came and gave you a once over and said it was all good but to be careful. So, Jamie naturally made them triple check. Colin also came over, apologising a million and one times to which you assured him it was okay, and Jamie tried not to death glare him.
Some water and painkillers did help but you still weren’t feeling amazing. Ted walked over with a guilty smile on his face, “How we are doing over here folks?”
“Better now,” you smiled, hiding your wincing as best you could.
“I’m gonna kill Colin,” Jamie muttered.
You rolled your eyes, placing a hand over his, “It was an accident babe. Let’s just let it go, okay?” Jamie didn’t say anything, but you knew he wouldn’t. “But I should defiantly go now,”
“Well Rebecca gave me a call saying to tell Jamie to take the afternoon off and take care of you,” Ted said and before you could protest, he cut you off, “Its doctors orders, okay? Now scamp you too. And try take it easy, okay?”
You felt bad making Jamie miss the end of practise but right now football was the last thing on his mind. after dropping you off at his place and surrounding you with pillows and blankets Jamie went on a Tesco run for snacks.
When he got back you laughed when you saw the almost overflowing bag. “We’ve got enough to survive the winter,” you joked as he sat it down. “You’re spoiling me,”
“Never,” Jamie said with a bashful smile as he pulled out the flowers from behind his back, “Got ye these as well,”
“Aw Jamie,” you gushed, standing up to take them from him but you winced slightly as you did.
Instantly concern washed over his face as he grabbed your arm to steady you despite you not actually falling, “You alright love? I knew that women missed something. What hurts- “
“Jamie,” you interrupted him, cupping his face with your hands making him pause in his tracks, “I’m fine baby I swear. Are you?”
“Yeah, course I am,” he said, wrapping his arms around you, “I just don’t want you getting hurt and that. I just feel bad’s all,” he said, mumbling as he hugged you tighter.
You moved your head to rest on his shoulder, hugging him back, “But why?”
“You were there to see me and then you got hurt. I know how hard those balls can hit,” he said before sighing, “Its all my fault,” he mumbled making your heart break.
You pulled back only to pull him to sit on the couch next to you, placing the flowers on the coffee table, “It was an accident. It was no one’s fault,”
“It was colin’s fault,”
“It was no one’s fault,” you repeated, rolling your eyes with a small smile, “Now are you gonna sit and mope all day or are you gonna take care of me?”
Finally, a smile cracked onto his lips, “Thought it didn’t hurt anymore?”
“I lied,” you said, sinking back into the couch in a dramatic display, “I am wounded beyond belief. You’ll need to do everything I need,” you joked with a hand splayed across your head.
Jamie leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Don’t I always?” he smiled. “Want me to put those in some water?”
“Yes please,” you grinned as Jamie got up to sort out the flowers, but you called out before he could leave the room, “Can we have a movie night?”
“If that’s what the lady wants, that’s what the lady gets,” he grinned, “Just try not pick a total chick flick,” he added with a smirk that made you roll your eyes.
By the time he’d returned with drinks and a takeaway menu you already had 27 dresses queued up, “Oh c’mon,” Jamie protested as he dropped onto the couch beside you.
“Please, I’m injured,” you teased making him roll his eyes but finally agree. Despite his protests Jamie was more into the movie than you were and made you pinkie promise to pause it when he went to get the food when it arrived.
Four chick flicks and an unholy amount of food later you and Jamie were curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets. “Feeling better?” he murmured in your ear though you could hear from his voice he was already half asleep.
“Feeling perfect baby, thank you,”
“Anything for you,”
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#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt fluff#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt x y/n#ted lasso#ted lasso x reader#ted lasso imagine#ted lasso fic#jamie tartt oneshot
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If you’re still taking requests, I have an idea that’s been PLAGUING me in the best way possible: Jamie meets reader and she doesn’t know him at first and then maybe a few dates later she’s like “omg you were on that shitty reality show” like she does not pay attention to football at all idk I just thought it would be cute 🩵🩵 I absolutely adore your writing 😊
i love it when an idea is plaguing. thank you for being so lovely in your request, i appreciate it and you so very much <3 ALSO i ended up playing dnd unexpectedly yesterday, so another drabble tonight and then a new chapter of be still, my foolish heart tomorrow!! | 1.4k words, tw language
You're sat in the Crown and Anchor for what will now be your sixth date. Jamie swears that it's your seventh, and that your first date was actually when the two of you stood on the doorstep of your house for three hours before you finally realised how long you'd been chatting.
You'd been assembling a swing in the garden out front of your house and Jamie happened to be walking by. He stopped to ask if you needed any help and that was it. It was eleven o'clock when he finally went on his way with your number written on a piece of paper that he clutched in his fist.
But it couldn't be a date, you'd say, because he hadn't kissed you when he left. Realistically, you just enjoyed the scrunched up face he made when you playfully argued with him about it, but he didn't need to know that yet.
You were meeting his friends for the first time. It felt early, but Jamie insisted how fun they were and that after you'd met them, the two of you would be able to hang out way more because you could come and visit him at work. You weren't sure why you'd have to meet them here first, but he said it would all make sense.
Nothing about this made sense, because you were currently the only ones in the pub, stuffed into a corner booth. Jamie's thigh brushed yours as he jiggled it, seemingly as full of nervous energy as you.
"Why is no one else here, Jamie?" you whispered, lest the woman behind the bar who looked not to be messed with heard you, "Is something going on?"
"Oh, I jus' booked it out," he says nonchalantly. You gape at him. It had always been clear he had some money, but never this much. Your first thought was the fact that he'd only ever been to your house, never you to his. Granted, it had only been three times so far anyway, but still.
"Are you like...rich-rich?" you ask tentatively, then carry on talking before he can answer, "That sounds terrible, oh god, you don't have to answer that. I don't care either way, you know, I just like-"
"Y/N, babe," he interrupts you, squeezing you into his side, "I know what y' getting at. I'm pretty loaded, I'm not gonna lie, but I didn't want y' to know until I was sure about ya."
Jamie was sure about you? That was news to you. You were a little nervous about how early it was to be sure, but it wasn't as if you weren't sold on him too. You were practically besotted with the man really, even if you were hesitant to tell him.
As if he could read the surprise on your face, he opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted-
"Hey! We're not late, are we?"
There were a few men congregating at the doorway, and the woman at the bar waved them in, greeting them like they were old friends. There were far more people than you'd expected, around ten men and two women crowding into the pub. There was no way all of you would fit around this corner booth.
You crammed any anxiety to the bottom of your stomach and stood up to greet everyone.
"Hi! I'm Y/N, it's so lovely to meet all of you!"
"What the fuck guys?"
Jamie's interjection cut your introductions short, just as you were about to hug the man closest to you who was beaming until Jamie spoke up and ruined his mood.
"I invited Isaac, Colin and Keeley. What are you all doing here?"
They had the decency to look a little sheepish. So that was why Jamie hadn't warned you that there would be 12 of them.
"We all wanted to come and meet the girl you've been droning on about for weeks, bruv," one man chimed in, "We tried drawing straws but it just turned into a huge fucking argument. So here we are. Trust me, mate, like 30 of us wanted to come, so count yourself lucky."
"I didn't fuckin' invite 30 of ya!" he exclaimed, winding a protective hand around your waist. Rather than being intimidated, you now felt incredibly touched that Jamie had been talking about you enough that his friends wanted to meet you so badly, "Did you lot even think about how overwhelming y' might be? Fuckin' idiots."
"Oi! We're on our best fucking behaviour, Tartt. Stop moping and introduce us, you prick."
Okay, so that was definitely Roy. You'd heard at least a little bit about him, that he was sort of a friend/mentor of Jamie's but quite...harsh. That definitely wasn't the word Jamie had used, but it worked.
"Okay! Fuckin' hell, right then..."
And he went around the group. They all pulled chair up to the few tables surrounding yours but didn't crowd you too much. There was Isaac, the one who'd explained things when they came in, Colin and Keeley, of course, who you fell in love with instantly. One group who sat slightly separately were Rebecca, Roy, Ted and Beard who all seemed significantly older than Jamie to be his mates, but you didn't want to question it when everyone was being so nice.
"So, we haven't seen you, so that must mean you've been watching this one on the telly, right?"
Rebecca gestures to Jamie with a warm smile, but when you turn to him, confused, he looks like a deer in the headlights.
"On the telly? In what?"
Rebecca looks suitably shocked now, staring from Jamie to you and back to Jamie.
"She doesn't...?"
Jamie hangs his head and you're left even more confused. You're left staring at the side of his face until it hits you: you'd never connected the dots before but now Rebecca had mentioned TV and you were looking right at him...
"Oh my god!" you exclaim suddenly, making everyone around the table jump, even though the younger lads weren't paying any attention, "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
He looks thoroughly guilty.
"Look, Y/N, I jus' wanted to get to know y' without-"
You weren't finished though, still babbling away to yourself as you stared at him, imagining him as he was when you'd seen him through the screen.
"I mean, it wouldn't have changed anything! Not once you'd helped me, but I suppose if I'd realised maybe I would have been more wary of you. You were terrible on that show! All my friends hated you, and I guess I did too, although I still had a bit of a crush, I can't lie-"
You trailed off when you saw the expressions on everyone's faces. The silence was only broken when Roy burst into loud laughter, throwing his head back in a way you guessed was rare for him.
"You know me...from reality TV?" Jamie said, enunciating every syllable and looking at you in terror. You smiled at him easily, reaching up to push a stray hair back from his face.
"Can't believe I didn't realise it, but yeah. Changes nothing for me, you know. It was a couple years ago right? No more dating shows on the horizon for you?"
If you'd realised this immediately, yes you would have been more on your guard. But you didn't, he was clearly very ashamed of his time on there and you were already falling for him and how fucking nice he was to you. Like every move he made was deliberate. It actually made a lot of sense now, if he had a past to make up for.
It took him a few moments of processing, but he was able to pull you into a side and plant a long, lingering kiss on your forehead eventually.
"No more dating shows," he said, full of relief, "Also, I'm a Premier League footballer, since you've taken that one so well."
Your eyes nearly bug out of your head.
"You're a what?!"
Roy's laugh echoes long into your night, as do the laughs of the rest of Jamie's friends, or teammates as you quickly come to know them. Jamie's more relaxed than he's ever been with you and yeah, you can get why he was sure about this now.
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt#ted lasso x reader#ted lasso#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt fluff#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt oneshot#busy week drabbles!#like real people queue
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If I had you II Jamie Tartt
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?”
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.
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt x female reader#jamie tartt x f!reader#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt fanfic#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt imagines#jamie tartt oneshot#ted lasso tv show fanfiction#I dont know what else to tag this as my friends ....#inbloomwriting
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It hits different cause it's you
summer sleepover masterlist
jamie tartt x gn!reader
summary : “passionate kissing, pressed up against a wall.” Requested by anon.
contebt warning: one use of yn, throw up, Jamie being insanely jealous, Roy being a big brother figure, angst In the form of Jamie being self deprecating to fluff, allusions to smut but non written.
There was not a square inch of the Crown and Anchor that wasn't buzzing with life; the whole Richmond team, players and otherwise, were crammed into the tiny, town centre pub.
"Hey, who's that?" Jamie didn't recognise the tall blonde that had his arm around your shoulders, prompting him to sharply nudge Sam in his side, attempting to gain some insight as to who he was. Obviously, he wasn't a member of the team or the staff, he knew that much, but if someone had brought him as their plus one, it was rude of him to try and make moves on his friends friend. Jamie nearly spat his drink out at Sam's words. "They have a boyfriend?"
"Well, boyfriend is a strong word really, they've just seen each other a few times." Roy added, now suddenly beside Jamie and Sam with a frown firmly on his face. Even though it was a familiar sight, it had an even darker twinge to it then usual.
"And how would you know that?" Jamie scoffed, arms folding tighter across his chest as he watched the guy pull you over to the bar, his arm wrapped around you, guiding you through the crowd.
"They told me." Roy answered shortly with a shrug of his shoulders. "Though they also told me the guys a fucking prick." Now that had caught Jamie's attention. With each word that slipped past Roy's lips, Jamie could recognise the look of disproval more and more. "Forgot to show up for one of their dates and they had to run home in the fucking rain."
"Fucking prick." Jamie half expected some comment from Roy about how he, himself, was a prick, but it never came, him so focused on burning a hole into the head of the blonde who had his best friend - though Roy would never admit to you being his best friend - entranced.
"You should go and save them Jamie." Sam suggested, a smile pulling at his lips as he nudged Jamie's side teasingly. "They deserve better than him."
"What? And they deserve me? Right." Jamie scoffed, taking a swig of his drink as he continued to stare at the scene before him, unease filling his stomach as he dwelled on the way your smile filled your face and the way your shirt defined everything perfectly.
"Cut that shit out." Surprisingly, that came from Roy. "You're...well...you're a fucking half decent guy, Tartt. Y/n would be lucky to have you."
"Aw, Roy." Jamie cooed, reaching up to pinch at Roy's cheeks like you would a cute baby. Though before he could make contact, Roy had slapped his hand away, a scowl settling on his lips "You're so kind."
"Fuck off." Roy left at that, walking across the room to meet you and your date for the night at the bar.
"Hey, Angel." Roy saddled up next to you at the bar, slipping a hand around your waist and pulling you into a side hug. When you pulled him into a proper one, he took the opportunity to glare daggers at your date, who, in great shock to Roy, just glared right back. There was no way he was letting you date this guy.
"Roy, you know Jake." When you pulled away from the hug, Jake was quick to put his arm around your waist in a way that screamed controlling to Roy.
Jake. Jamie. Jamie. Jake. There was no way you'd picked the blonde on coincidence; and though Roy would rather bubble wrap you up and put you in a cupboard so no one and nothing could ever get to you, if you were going to be with anyone, he'd rather you be with Jamie. The thought knocked him sick. "Yeah. I do."
"I can't fucking believe this shit man." Jamie couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene before him. Roy seemed to be being more amicable with this random guy you were seeing then he'd ever been with him, and he'd just quite loudly proclaimed how much of a dickhead he thought he was. He just couldn't wrap his head around it.
What was there to this guy that Jamie didn't have? Why couldn’t you like Jamie the way he liked you? Why did you have to look so good in that shirt? Why hadn’t you told him but had seemed to tell Sam and Roy? Too many unanswered questions were swarming around his head. Roy clearly approved more of this stranger then he did of Jamie - and even though he'd blatantly told him otherwise seconds ago, the fact he was even entertaining a conversation with him made Jamie quickly forget it. Never once did it cross his mind that maybe Roy was entertaining the conversation because he cared about you.
Jamie felt like he couldn't breath more and more with each second that passed that he watched the three of you converse. It was all too much for one night. Roy liked him less then the dick who didn't show up for your date and made you walk home in the rain, he'd confirmed you didn't feel the same way about him that he felt about you, Mae had put up some disco lights that were stopping him from seeing straight, and the vanilla vodka he'd consumed was making his stomach churn. "I'm gonna be sick."
Jamie didn't hear Sam call after him when he sprinted from his side in the direction of the pubs door, he didn't hear Roy call after him when he barged past the three of you to get out of the pub, and he didn't see your concerned gaze that followed him until he'd disappeared from your vision.
Roy made a promise to be right back, taking a step away from you and Jake after calling down Mae for a glass of water. When you pieced together where he was going, you took the glass from his hand, appreciating the way the condensation cooled the palm of your hand. "No, it's okay Roy. I'll go check on him."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, course. Be right back Jake." You didn't wait for his response, turning for the door almost instantly. Thankfully, Jamie's actions and your want to see him had given Roy the opportunity that he'd been waiting for.
"Let's have a chat Jake, yeah?"
"Jamie!" You called out when you stepped outside of the pub. When you didn't immediately see him, you went to call out his name again, only stopping at a loud wrenching sound that was coming from the side of the building. "Holy shit, are you okay?"
Jamie pulled his shirt sleeve over his hand, wiping at his mouth then retuning it to his side. His other arm rested above his head, allowing him to balance himself against the wall as he hunched over. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine babe, go back inside."
Taking steps closer to Jamie's side, you made sure to avoid the mess he'd made on the floor, rubbing one hand in circles against his back. When his heaving had finally stopped, you wrapped an arm around him, slowly guiding him to sit on the step of the door that led into the kitchens. "C'mon."
Silently, you handed him the glass of water, letting him drink it before speaking. “What's wrong Jamie?"
"What do you meant what's wrong I'm-" Jamie's words fell short as he looked at you. Clearly, you didn't plan on taking any bullshit from him tonight. At his failure to provide a response fast enough, you nudged your knee against his, keeping the side of your leg pressed tightly against his after. Jamie let out a sigh, running a hand down his face. "I just got in my own head. That's all. And then with the vanilla vodka, and the lights, and so many people talking, it went to shit."
Jamie's heart nearly stopped as you threaded your fingers into his hair, pushing it back for him and readjusting his headband. Even when you'd fixed his hair for him, your hand remained in it, resting against the back of his neck and scratching at the hair there. "What did you get in your head about Jay?"
This wasn't real. The vodka had clearly got to him and he was experiencing some kind of deluded, fever ridden, dream. A too hard tug on his hair ground him back in the moment; this was definitely real and you were definitely playing with his hair. He was so fucking in love with you. "Nothing important, don't worry about it, go have a good night with your boyfriend."
"It's important to you, so it's important to me." Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. How you had no idea what you were doing to him, he was clueless. Jamie could've sworn up and down that right then his heart was beating a metre out of his chest - how could you not see it too? "And, also, he's not my boyfriend."
"He's not?"
"No." A weight had been lifted from Jamie's shoulders that he hadn't realised was there. For the first time since he'd noticed you under the arm of whoever it had been, he felt like he could breathe. "We've been out a few times but, honestly, I'm not really feeling it, he's a bit of a dick."
"I know. Roy told me."
"Oh did he?” You asked, your head titling in a way that made the dim street light accentuate all your features. It made your eyes glimmer and Jamie had to resist the urge to kiss you. “Fucker doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut."
A laugh rumbled through Jamie’s chest and he was certain your presence alone had made everything better. God, if you’d let him, he’d never leave your side. "I’m all good now, if you want to go back in, I think im just gonna head home."
"Let's go." Your hand moved down from his hair and slotted into his hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing. Jamie took your action as a sign, allowing you to lead him to your car without a thought spared as to how your date would get home, what Roy was doing to him right now, or what anyone would think of your shared absence. All he cared about was the fact his hand was in yours and that it remained that way the whole ride to his house.
He opened the door for you and then made a bee line for the bathroom with you hot on his heels. As he brushed his teeth several times over, forcing the taste of vomit out of his mouth, you took a seat on his counter. When Jamie spat out his final lot of toothpaste, he turned to you with a minty fresh smile. “So, your ‘not boyfriend,’ that’s definitely not going anywhere?”
“Oh, yeah, definitely not.” You answered honestly, jumping down from the counter and walking in step with Jamie down his hallway. “Besides, I kind of have a thing for someone else. He was the BTEC version, if I’m honest.”
“Really?” Jamie asked casually, as though his heart hadn’t been crushed for a second time tonight, this time in what should’ve been the safety of his own home. “So, what was he like? Aside from being a huge dick, obviously.”
“Obviously.” You confirmed, a laugh slipping past your lips as your lingered in Jamie’s doorway, not quite ready to go home yourself yet. “Oh, well, you know. He plays a lot of football, not too bad at it too, he’s from somewhere up north so he’s got this sexy twinge of an accent.” If Jamie didn’t know better, he’d think you were describing him. “And get this. His name? Jake Heart.”
Jamie had never been sure if heaven was real, but if must’ve been, because he knew if it was, this would be his idea of it. When you said you were going out with the worse version of who you really liked, he never in a million years would’ve thought you really wanted to be with him - even as much as he hoped it. It was like all of his dreams were coming true and his life was finally, fully, piecing together.
“Me.” Jamie gasped, taking a step closer to you. “You like me. I’m the one you like.”
“Yeah, doofus.” You took a step closer to him, sliding your arms up his chest and over his shoulder, placing your hands in his hair like they had been on the doorstep of the pub. He was still fully convinced this was one of those good dreams that make you regret setting an alarm the night before. “Was kind of hoping you’d have caught on by now, but, it is what it is.”
Jamie slipped his arms around your waist, connecting his hands over the small of your back. “So, if you like me, does that mean we can, like, be a couple and stuff?”
“Depends what you have in mind when you say ‘and stuff.’” The coy smile on your lips had a smirk pulling on Jamie’s. God, he couldn’t fucking contain himself around you, and he hoped he would never have to again after today.
Jamie pulled you flush against him, pressing his lips firmly to yours, and squeezing your hips, slipping his tongue into your mouth at the gasp that he pulled out of you. Carefully, he manoeuvred you away from his doorway, kicking it closed behind you, and pushing you against his hallway wall. One of his hands quickly moved to cup the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair to keep you from knocking against the cold plaster and to kiss you even more firmly. He didn’t hold back on his actions, squeezing and rubbing and nipping and sucking on every bit of skin he could reach as he pulled himself away from your lips and made his way down your neck.
As he pulled away for air, his forehead resting against your own and his chest heaving, he suddenly became nervous again. “Something like that, I don’t know, only if you’d like it.”
You pressed a fervent kiss to his lips, knocking the air from his lungs before he’d even had the chance to regain it. “I’d like that very much, Jay.” Jamie stared at you dreamily, so in love with you and you didn’t even know it yet. He couldn’t wait for the day that’d come when he’d finally, fully, tell you. “Couldn’t help but notice you closed the door though Jay, you wanting to figure out what more of that ‘stuff’ looks like, yeah?”
“Yeah, I’d like that very much.” Jamie used your position against the wall to his benefit, moving his hands to hold your waist as he dropped to his knees before you, ready to sing praises between your legs. “Think you’ll like it very much too.”
While the walls of Jamie’s hallway were permanently scarred by the whimpers from your lips and the scratches of your nails against the wall, Roy and Jake sat in the crown and anchor.
“- and you’re not fucking good enough for them. So, you’re going to disappear from their phone, and from the face of the fucking earth for all I care, and not be a fucking duck about it either, yeah.”
Jake was shaking in his seat, and even though Sam had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to butt in the conversation for the past 30 minutes, he never got the chance to. Jake had stood from his seat and left the pub without so much as a goodbye or a sip from his drink taken.
“Roy, do you really think all that was necessary?” Sam asked, sliding into Jakes now empty seat and sliding his untouched beer over to Roy.
“Abso-fucking-lutley.”
Hope you enjoyed this Jamie fic!!! Let me know what you think <33 more to come as I get up to date on the summer sleepover prompts x
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt oneshot#jamie tartt imagine#ted lasso x reader#beybaldes summer sleepover !!
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reputation // are you ready for it?
prologue summary: The one where you, a somewhat well-known singer, figure out exactly how to leave your boyfriend who so happens to work as an assistant coach at West Ham.
Eventual Jamie Tartt x Reader
i was inspired to make a series by @buckychristwrites and @illiterateaffairs, who made the beautiful series' 'About You' and 'Distractions' respectively, so let's give this a go
word count: 0.7k
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"Folklore and Evermore are fantastic for someone like (L/N), but is it enough to top the charts?"
"While (L/N)’s storytelling and emotion come through, does she have the audience for such a piece?”
“Previous attempts at topping the charts proved difficult, country or pop, what can (L/N) do next to be number one?”
“Fans approve of the narrative, but do the numbers?”
“It’s definitely a reach releasing two albums within a year of each other. I mean how desperate can you be?
“After experimenting with an album sampling multiple genres at eighteen, is this what (L/N) is finally good at?”
~
It’s exhausting. Everything. Trying to prove yourself while also trying not to seem full of yourself. How can someone just rise to the top of the charts? How can you be good enough? Every day there were articles calling you names and how much of a failure you are and could be. The bad always outweighed the good things people had to say. How can you make someone see who you are and what you are trying to do? It’s impossible to conform to every single version of yourself that people want you to be. It doesn’t help when your boyfriend has already achieved his dream. Helping coach his favorite team. A bittersweet thing to see. His compliments that can seem backhanded at teams. You’ll get there sometime babe. Don’t worry, you’re number one to me. Humiliating coming from someone so fake and narcissistic. Oh yes, the boyfriend you have put your life on pause for, albeit being together for two years, has been cheating on you for the past 3 months. Utterly humiliating.
It only gets worse considering he took over the job of managing you and where you play as an artist. It gave him some sort of promotion of rank amongst the other coaches. Nobody really recognized you at the football events he “booked” for you. Why would these older men listen to songs about a fictional love triangle? The only ones who recognized you were the bored teenage daughters dragged along to such events.
And asking for help is out of the question. Your best friend was only so far from you, playing for A.F.C Richmond. Phone calls and texts could be made any second of the day and you would be swooped away, but you chose not to. Colin has a busy life as you do, so it wouldn’t be right to call him about every single problem you were having, right? You were both doing what you’ve wanted to do since you were kids (one enjoying it more than the other), so why should you disrupt his life with yours?
But when you wake up the next morning with the opportunity of a lifetime, it seems like life has taken a turn for the better.
“Babe! Babe!”
You turn towards the doorway of your writing room resting your hands in your lap from their place on the piano. Derek leans against the doorway, trying to catch his breath.
“They want you to play! At the stadium!”
What.
“What are you on about?”
“Rupert wanted to one-up that ex-wife of his and Jasmine gave the idea of getting someone popular amongst fans to perform at halftime in a game against Richmond! Fantastic isn’t it! You’ve got to thank Jasmine for this, god that woman is amazing.”
Derek disappears down the hallway still shouting at the news. You sit wide-eyed and frozen. Not only at the news, performing in front of hundreds of fans at what possibly is one of the biggest games is a huge opportunity and you should be happy about it. Well, you are, but the name that left your boyfriend’s mouth gave it a sour taste. Jasmine. The woman he kisses and loves behind your back. And the one who gave you a chance at the spotlight in two months' time. Popular amongst fans? Was she being serious or being sarcastic? Nonetheless, what the hell.
An amazing woman, you think.
You stand and make your way to the nook in the window. You stare down at the people who walk past before grabbing at the journal and sitting yourself down. Opening the journal to the page marked by a pen holding its place, you start writing down your next idea.
reputation
You drag the pen quickly on the page leaving a straight line underneath the word, a smirk making its way to your face.
#jamie tartt#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt oneshot#ted lasso#ted lasso fic#ted lasso imagine#afc richmond#taylor swift#reputation#taylor swift reputation
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I Think He Knows - Jamie Tartt x fem!Reader
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! ❤❤❤
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.
#jamie tartt#jamie tartt smut#jamie tartt ff#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt imagine#smut#oneshot#ted lasso#ted lasso x reader#jamie tartt x reader
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Updates for series will be made weekly, and updates for oneshots will be uploaded as completed/requested. If my work is seen posted anywhere other than tumblr it has been posted without my permission. Thank you for all your support!
Jamie Tartt Masterlist
Roy Kent Masterlist
Roy/Jamie Masterlist
#ted lasso#jamie tartt#roy kent#jamie tartt x reader#roy kent x reader#Jamie Tartt fanfiction#ted lasso fanfiction#jamie tartt oneshots
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Hug Me Like You Mean It - Complete - a Jamie Tartt & Roy Kent centric fic
Relationship: Roy Kent & Jamie Tartt (written as platonic but it’s very fluffy so can be read as romantic)
Characters: Jamie Tartt, Roy Kent, Phoebe, Roy’s sister, James Tartt Sr, Sam Obisanya, Ted Lasso & others of the team mentioned
Chapter wordcount: 4.182
Total wordcount: 19.405
Story summary:
The day had been amazing; his semi-insults had gotten Roy to bite back, which had slowly turned into teasing and even laughing. Jamie was feeling so fucking wonderful that he just couldn’t help but blurt it out. I love you, Roy. Well, shit. Now he had to deal with that.
Jamie panics and Roy thinks a lot before just simply hugging him. But then Jamie refuses to let go…
How will they deal with this? Cuddling of course..!
Link to Chapter 1
Link to the final chapter (5)
Chapter 5 summary:
Roy is not good at dealing with this kind of stress but Phoebe's hospital visit takes days so he just can't help it. He takes it out on Jamie. How will they deal?
#roy/jamie#jamie tartt/roy kent#Roy Kent#Jamie tartt#royjamie#ted lasso fic#completed fic#hurt/comfort#angst#a oneshot that turned into a long ass fic lol#I just love to write scenes that make them want to cuddle#I love writing cuddles#and struggles#roy kent & Jamie Tartt#queer platonic love
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𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
🎧 ﹐ ♡﹒a jamie tartt oneshot ﹒ ᶻ ᶻ
𝐚/𝐧: another fic for my precious boy <3 sorry i’ve been so inactive atm, school’s an ass. but i’ve got some fics planned, so hopefully i’ll find the will to finish them soon. enjoy lovelies xxx
requests are open ‼️
in which: waking jamie is a task not for those faint-hearted
words: 0.52k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none!
𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: r&b - english teacher
the sunlight trickled through the window of your apartment, past the curtains and softly draped across jamie’s face. his hair fell across his forehead, the blonde walnut mist strands shining in the morning light, his enviously long eyelashes tickled his cheeks.
he looked so peaceful, a stark contrast to his usual expressions.
gently, he pulled the blankets up to his chin, snuggling further into his pillow. he let out a soft, content sigh.
suddenly, the annoying beep beep beep of his alarm came from his bedside, and interrupted your almost ethereal view of your boyfriend.
he let out a sudden snore, as he turned over.
the beeping continued. you were this close to throwing a nearby shoe at the alarm if jamie didn’t wake up soon. he let out another snore, and turned back to face you.
without opening his eyes, he frowned, and pulled the blanket over his head. you leant over him, turning off his alarm, disturbing him as little as possible.
you moved back under the blanket, before whispering, “oi.” you pulled the blanket back down, past his chin. “sleeping beauty.”
jamie frowned at the light, and the nickname, but his eyes flutter open. his big, blue eyes looked up at you, before he whispered,
“let me sleep.”
his voice was deep and huskier in the morning, and his accent was noticeably stronger. and god it was hot.
you shook your head softly. “you’ve got training this morning. besides, it’s already 9am.”
he let out a dramatic, peeved huff. you raised an eyebrow at him, but he grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it.
you should be used to this. you’ve lived with him for 4 months now. but you’re not. and even after every morning, it doesn’t get any less cute.
“c’monnnnnnn jamie,” you said, attempting to snatch the pillow from under his face, but to no avail.
he looked up at you, feigning innocent sadness.
“tell ‘em i’m sick.” he pouted at you.
you frowned at him. “i’m not lying to the team for you.” you lie back down, looking up at the ceiling. “anyway,” you start, knowing the trick.
“if you don’t go to work, then you won’t get kisses.”
his eyes widen almost comically as he practically jumps out of bed. “i’m goin’, i’m goin’, i swear!”
you chuckle a little as you watch your boyfriend hurriedly put on his clothes, and throw on a hoodie.
“shit and piss!” he yelled suddenly, after kicking his toe on his cupboard.
you chuckled again, and he threw a sock at you. you threw the sock back at him, pulling the blanket over your face in protection.
“ah, ya sneaky bastard.” jamie said with a grin, now dressed. he pulled the blanket back down past your face, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “see you later, love.”
you grinned a little, as you grab his face before he can leave, planting a more passionate kiss on his lips. “bye.”
after all your months together, jamie still blushed at your kisses. “bye.” he said, with a little dazed smile as he headed out of your bedroom.
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tears in my eyes thinking about jamie tartt going from ME! to wearing sam’s number. riling roy up to going to his niece’s uncle day party. being alone above it all to having so many friends and people who love him. god i cant wait for next week’s episode it’s going to oneshot kill me
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jamie tartt late night ramblings (jamie tarttt x reader)
based on this screenshot from tiktok:
it was roy who noticed it first. your name seemed to leave jamie’s lips often— too often, like he was just saying it just to say it. you would be brought back to every conversation, every hint and whisper of a recollection, your name rolled off jamie’s tongue constantly.
roy had an “over or under” bet with keeley the next day. he bet that your name would leave jamie’s lips at least 50 times; keeley who didn’t realize just how often jamie brought you up (she was just happy to see him happy, content) scoffed and said there was no way. she lost the bet. (jamie said your name 53 times that day)
sam noticed it after the pair. he sat next to jamie on the way to manchester and he forgot his headphones (rookie mistake) and found himself on the receiving end of jamie’s babbles about date night at his apartment. sam, who grew up watching the love of his wonderful parents, felt something familiar tugging in his chest. it was the same feeling that bloomed when he got older, when the sweet words and innocent kisses his parents shared in front of him were no longer repulsive to his teenage brain, but rather something fond, something soft.
he indulged jamie in the conversation and offered a table at ola’s for next thursday. jamie beamed at him (sam had never seen him smile like that, not even when they moved back to the premier league or finished second) and thanked him profusely because you had been talking about wanting to eat at ola’s again.
“there’s just no time,” you complained, offhandedly. “between my work and your training schedule and games, i feel like we don’t get to have a restaurant dinner anymore. i miss ola’s.”
jamie would change the way time worked if you asked him to.
jan mass was the next person to notice it. him being the blunt dutchman nonchalantly asked jamie why he talked about you so much. at first, jamie was taken aback by the question. does he talk about you that much? jan quickly followed up by saying he meant no offense by this (this, jamie knew. he’d known jan too long to take offense) and said he was genuinely curious.
what jamie wanted to say was, if anyone had grown up the way he did, with the father he had, with the constant pressure of living up to an impossible standard, with the struggle of having to decide to either be a great footballer or a great man (he will be the first to admit, he chose wrong the first time, but he learned from you that he should give himself some grace. nobody is perfect in their early twenties, after all) anyone would probably talk about you as much as he did.
to jamie, you made his life so much better. sprinkles of beauty here and there from your whispers of “good mornings” when you rolled over to kiss him when you woke up in his bed; or when you would pitch the tone of your voice up to coo at a puppy walking down the street; or when you would drop coins in the tip jars at cafes while you mindlessly chatted with the baristas.
everywhere you went, there were marks of you that lingered there; in the smile of a stranger you complimented, the giggles of a child when you lean down to fix the bow in their hair; the scent of your perfume that stayed when you hugged a friend you hadn’t seen in a while. those little things made the world that much better.
jamie felt he was being selfish keeping you to himself, absorbing your love so much that sometimes he felt guilty that the rest of the world was deprived of it; so in his own way, whenever he spoke your name into conversations, into interactions, into the ether, he believed he was doing the world a favor, giving them a glimpse of the beauty that you added to the world.
but he thought that this was too much to say to jan mass in the middle of the locker room. so jamie simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “i dunno. i didn’t even realize i do it.”
#rambling because i cant sleep#rambles#jamie tartt#jamie tartt oneshot#jamie tartt fluff#jamie tartt x yn#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt x reader#ted lasso#ted lasso fanfic#frances writes
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MASTERLIST
hi! i realized that it might start being difficult to navigate all my oneshots, so i decided to make a masterlist instead! not sure yet if i'll be writing for other characters/fandoms since most of my inspo is for jamie so at this point in time, all the following stories are about jamie tartt!
comfort crowd, you can always count.
i'd be better armed if you agreed to take it.
and i don't even like you that much. wait, i do. f*ck.
call it what you want.
if it weren't for second chances, we'd all be alone.
MULTI-CHAPTERS:
it's nice to have a friend. (ongoing)
#jamie tartt#ted lasso#jamie tartt fanfic#jamie tartt fluff#jamie tartt fanfiction#ted lasso fanfic#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt fic
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hi!! i would love a jamie comforting the reader fic <33 i know this is so so vague LOL but i love a good comfort moment 🫶
so do i anon, this is right up my street! i hope this is similar to what you what looking for <3 this is partly based on some of the scenes at the recent west ham europe final which was just crazy | 1.8k words, tw fighting, reader gets caught & hurt in the middle, language, hurt/comfort
4-0 to Richmond was exactly the result that everyone needed; the players, the coaches, everyone surrounding the club. It had been a tricky few months, results coming and going, but to get a strong win against a mid-table club felt like a step in the right direction after the winter break. From your spot up in the owners’ box, you could see how ecstatic the boys’ celebrations were on the pitch, and you were practically matching them, jumping around with Rebecca, Keeley and the Higgins’.
During their lap around the pitch to clap the fans, Jamie waved at you like a madman while you blew him kisses, both giddy. He made a C with his hand, which always meant to meet him in the private staff car park as soon as possible, and you nodded furiously so that he’d see.
“Meeting Jamie in the car park?” Keeley asks, still grinning as you nod yet again, “I’ll meet Roy there too. It’ll probably only be a twenty minute team talk before they’re allowed a bit of family time after such a good fucking win.”
“Then let’s go!” you laugh, bending down to pick up your handbag.
Something hits you right in the forehead. Hard.
You stumble backwards with nowhere to go, ending up half on the floor, with one arm holding yourself up against your seat. Your vision was swimming, but you could make out an object by your feet that looked like a water bottle, but it must have been almost full to cause such an impact.
“Shit, babe!” Keeley was exclaiming, quick to crouch down to you, “You alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you murmur, still a little dazed, but your vision was clearing quickly. It had hit you in the temple, and the shock was staving off some of the pain for now, but you still wavered a little when you let Keeley help you up, “What the fuck?”
“I don’t-”
There was something else flying towards the box and this time, you and Keeley had the sense to duck down and cover your heads. Higgins was shielding his wife, you saw, while Rebecca was trying to usher people inside. When you risked a look downwards at the stands, there were a few men, clearly from the opposing team, who’d decided to make their frustrations with their team known, a small brawl underway between them and the unlucky Richmond fans they’d come across. It was only getting worse each passing second. Feeling something kick in within you, you turn and rush to the doorway, shouting for the security in the hospitality area to follow you back outside as you pointed towards what was happening.
It was at this point more and more security were alerted, and soon, there were enough of them to form a barrier between the two sets of fans, even though insults were still being thrown, along with the occasional plastic cup, water bottle and even one phone. Unable to drag yourself away until you knew the Richmond fans were safe, despite Keeley tugging at you to leave, you spot a woman with her little girl in the fray, looking scared out of their skin even as it died down. You manage to free yourself of Keeley as you step over the low barrier and make your way down the steps to them, pushing past whoever you needed to.
“Hey, this way, yeah?” you said to them softly, reaching for the little girl and picking her up as you carried her back towards the owners’ box along with her mother. There was a particularly angry opposition fan you passed on the way, and even though a security guard was holding him back, he still managed to get a grip on your arm, scratching down the length of it as you brought your arm up to keep the girl safe. Ignoring the fresh pain, you get them inside, then look back for any more people in need.
Higgins had clearly had the same thought as you, leading a group of young boys into the owners’ box to escape things. Soon enough, Rebecca was opening up the barrier and letting the Richmond fans leave through hospitality if they were close enough, with the rest slipping out through an exit behind them while security kept hold of the small group of awful fans. It was finally over, and whilst you’d lost the mother and girl in the crowd, you knew they were safe and it was enough.
“Y/N, are you alright?” Keeley asks, then hisses when you look up at her, “Fucking hell. We need to get you to one of the medics, now.”
“It’s not so bad, I promise. Probably looks worse,” you say, trying to reassure her and yourself, because by the look on her face you must have looked pretty bad, “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
Keeley shook her head solemnly as she linked arms with you, presumably to steer you towards a medic despite your protests. You’d been attending matches long before you started dating Jamie, but you’d still never experienced anything like that.
Jamie. You hope he hadn’t still been on the pitch when that started, because you knew he’d be beside himself.
“Where the fuck is she? Y/N? Fuckin’ get off me!”
Your heart drops into your stomach when you hear him, how frantic he sounds. You turn towards the staircase, now clear of fans again, and see him running up the steps, followed by a guard trying to stop him and failing miserably. He scans the room before his eyes land on you and his whole body deflates with relief as he jogs over. Keeley takes a step back as he takes you firmly in his arms, clutching you to him as tightly as he ever had. You can feel your own body relaxing under his touch.
“Fuck, Y/N,” Jamie speaks into your neck, still clinging to you just as you were to him, “We were jus’ leavin’ the pitch and then someone points and you’re gettin’ shit fuckin’ thrown at ya? Wait, did they get you, baby?”
He leans back to inspect you, eyes immediately zoning in on your forehead with misery in his eyes. You see his bottom lip quiver and you’re quick to try and pull him back into you but he’s stock still in shock as he stares. It must’ve been a really bad lump if this was the reaction you were getting.
“Jamie, I’m fine,” you say slowly, tipping his chin towards you to make sure he’s looking in your eyes rather than at your injury, “All fine. I promise.”
“Y’ not fuckin’ fine,” he murmurs, ghosting a finger over the bump. You shiver, “We’re gettin’ this checked, yeah?”
“That’s what I said,” Keeley pipes up, still standing off to the side, “Actually, I’ll go get someone. You two stay here, avoid everyone staring at…”
She trails off as she gestures vaguely to your forehead and you giggle at her as she leaves. So it definitely looked bad. You bring your own hand up to touch it, but immediately regret the pain that flares up in its wake. Jamie was quick to reach up and pull your own hand away, kissing each knuckle, then each fingertip. Slow, reverent. You melt into him as much as you can whilst standing up.
“Tried to climb the barriers,” he admits quietly, “I couldn’t see ya, jus’ all the pricks who started everythin’ and I needed to- I dunno. Some prick guard pulled me away.”
“I’m very glad he did,” you soothe, “You can’t score a hat trick and get in a fight all in the same day. Hope this doesn’t steal any of your praise away.”
“Couldn’t give a fuck about the match,” he says, frustrated, “You’re hurt, babe. Are you sure you’re okay?”
You wish he hadn’t asked twice. The adrenaline is wearing off and you’re starting to feel a bit of that panic you should have had in the moment creeping in. You nod your head yes, but don’t trust yourself to speak. Jamie understands immediately.
“Oh babe,” he says quietly, stroking a hand up and down your neck, “It’s okay. Promise. I‘m so sorry I wasn’t ‘ere for ya, like.”
“I’ll be fine,” you say, a little choked, enough that he’s pulling you into him again, wrapping you in another crushing hug. It’s just the right amount of pressure to make you feel better, breathing him in and holding him close.
“‘Course you’ll be fine. Got me, ain’t ya?” he says, pulling a laugh from you just as he’d hoped. He leads you over to one of the sofas near the window and sits you down, wrapping you right up in his arms again once your settled, knees tucked into his chest as he tugs you into his lap.
“Really proud of you,” you say quietly, and he just kisses the top of your head, clearly unwilling to discuss the match as he rubs a hand down your arm. But it’s the one some dickhead clawed at, and you can’t hide your wince. Jamie clocks it immediately and peers down at your arm.
“Little fuckers,” he snarls, but you know there isn’t any anger directed at you, “How’d they get this fuckin’ close to ya, love?”
Ah. You didn’t think he’d like this part of the story.
“There was this little girl and her mum, down in the stands. I couldn’t just leave them there, Jamie,” you stare up at him, almost pleading for him to understand, “I grabbed them and brought them out through here. I know, it was stupid, but-”
The tears in his eyes stop you from continuing. You put a hand on his face but he shakes you away, clearing his throat.
“Jus’ don’t know how I got meself such a fuckin’ gem,” he says, laughing wetly at himself, “I wish you hadn’t got fuckin’ hurt, god, but I jus’- you’re so good, you know?”
You glow under his praise, settling into his side so he can’t see you grinning at his words. You tug his arm around you and place a series of kisses along his bicep and back down again.
“You would’ve done the same,” you say, meaning every word, “You’re good too, Jamie.”
“Guess I must be,” he agrees breathily, pressing kiss after kiss into the top of your head, “I’ll make sure I am for you, y’ know? And I’ll take care of ya too, y’ know that right?”
“Yeah I know, Jamie.”
You sink even further into his embrace, aimlessly hoping that the medic never comes and that you might just be able to stay like this forever.
---
aaah if you read this far i love you!! i've been away in london so i'm sorry for the inactivity - i will catch up on asks tomorrow and am posting this right before i sleep so i am at least feeding you some content!! and then lots of drabbles to come this weekend <3 <3
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt#ted lasso x reader#ted lasso#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt oneshot#jamie tartt fluff#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt imagine#busy week drabbles!#like real people queue
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a kiss that I kept II Jamie Tartt
Plot: Jamie Tartt was 9 years old when he met the love of his life. He considers himself lucky to have met her at such a young age. He considers himself a damn fool for fucking it up later on though.
Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of Jamie's dad.
Notes: Friends to idiots to lovers. Inspired by "Simple Song" by the Shins
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
When I was just nine years old
I swear that I dreamed
Your face on a football field
And a kiss that I kept
Under my vest
Apart from everything
But the heart in my chest
There’s something cathartic about being back home in Manchester. Not as a footballer, just as Jamie. When he doesn’t have to be phenomenal, when he doesn’t have to perform and win. When he doesn’t have to try so damn hard to give his dad a reason to be proud of him.
Without those expectations and without the pressure, it feels good to be home. It’s a part of his childhood that is untouched by his father’s malice. It’s pure and joyful and precious.
He’s not Jamie Tartt, golden child and footballer extraordinaire. He’s cousin Jamie. He’s Jamie from down the road. He’s Georgie’s boy.
It’s been a while since he’s been back, been even longer since he’s seen any of his extended family but being back now, it feels like hardly any time has passed. Millie has always been his favorite cousin so when the envelope showed up in his mailbox, all fancy paper and swirly font, there was no hesitation in him. Nothing could keep him from attending her wedding.
She’s a beautiful bride, all flowy dress and flowers in her hair. It’s almost hard to believe she’s the same kid that used to run around the neighborhood with Jamie, getting into trouble wherever they could find it. But somewhere between chiffon and carnations that little girl still exists. He wonders if the little boy he used to be is still alive somewhere inside of him. He hopes he’s proud of who he grew up to be. Sometimes he doubts it.
His eyes wander across the room, the reception is in full swing, people are talking, laughing, celebrating. Love is radiating from every smile. Though Jamie doesn’t really care all too much about that if he’s being completely honest, he only cares about one particular smile.
And when he catches sight of her, leaning against the bar with a glass of champagne in hand, wearing a gorgeous powder pink dress and daisies in her hair, he’s certain his heart misses a beat.
It would be an understatement to call (Y/N) his best childhood friend. Friend was never a big enough word to describe what she meant to Jamie — what she still means to him.
Jamie Tartt was 9 years old when he met the love of his life. He considers himself lucky to have met her at such a young age. He considers himself a damn fool for fucking it up later on though.
“Are you planning on talking to me anytime soon or do you just want to stare at me all day, Tartt?”
She says it with the same sense of mischief she’s always held. Like a silent promise of adventure perpetually hidden in her words.
“I was going to — eventually.”
“Well, eventually is not good enough for me. I missed you, Jamie.”
It’s only when she pulls him into a hug that he realizes just how much that sentiment is reciprocated. The familiar scent of lavender and the feel of her body against his, it all brings up so many memories of times long gone. This, Jamie thinks, is as close to time travel as humans will ever get.
He is suddenly 9 years old, playing soccer on the field just down the road from his house. His football is old and slightly inflated and some of the hexagons are flaking off, just holding on by a single tread. His goal is no real goal and all but two plastic bottles functioning as make-believe goalposts.
The air smells like sunscreen and summer and dust and life is easy for a moment. He gets to do what he loves without having to prove anything to anyone. Football is just a game here, something to pass the time. It’s fun.
He does kicks and jumps and trick shots and it doesn’t matter if he messes up. He can fail without having to fear any repercussions. There is no one there to judge him for it. Failure is a byproduct of trying not a sign of weakness.
Just as he is about to line up another shot at the makeshift goal, he sees her across the football field. At 9 years old, Jamie doesn’t know a lot of things but he’s quite certain she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. For a moment he wonders if she’s a dream, an illusion. Then she steps closer, comes walking towards him with that bright smile of hers and the glimmer of excitement shining in her eyes.
“You’re really good,” she says. He’s heard that a few times before, it never mattered then because he wasn’t good enough, not to his father at least. It matters when this stranger says it though, because she’s pretty and because she has no reason to lie to him.
“Thanks. I’m Jamie.”
“You’re bleeding.”
His eyes follow to where she points at his right knee and sure enough, it’s scraped up, a drop of blood running down his leg.
“Does it hurt?”
Jamie shrugs as if to let her know that it’s not a big deal. It does sting quite a bit now that she pointed it out to him. He’s not gonna let her know that though, girls don’t like soft boys who whine about scraped knees.
“I have a plaster if you want one. So you don’t get any dirt in the wound.”
She doesn’t even wait for an answer, just rummages through her purse that’s shaped like a little poodle, and pulls out a plaster. Jamie holds out his hand though she doesn’t pay it any attention, just kneels down and softly, so fucking softly, put the plaster over his wound. It’s the first time he smells her lavender shampoo, the first time she smiles at him, and the first time she sends his heart racing.
“I’m (Y/N), by the way.”
And his life has not been the same since.
“ I missed you too.”
It’s the truth. He missed her terribly. But sometimes it’s hard to reconcile who he is with who he used to be. Who he is now with the person she used to love.
“Could’ve fooled me, you don’t even answer my insta DMs, you ass.”
Even when she curses him out, she regards him with infinite affection.
The girl that put a plaster on his bleeding knee is now a whole woman, but the kindness is still the exact same. The softness she holds for him is still there.
“To be fair I hardly check those. They scare me, honestly.”
“At least your mum updates me on your life. She was always my favorite Tartt anyway.”
He loves how much she loves his mum and how much mum loves her. There is something so inexplicably comforting in knowing the people you love most share a bond.
“Think you’re her favorite too.”
“Oh yeah, I know I am.”
Her laughter rings through the air like the sweetest song he’s ever heard. It’s so awfully cheesy, his own thoughts almost make him barf. But she just has that effect on him.
“You look beautiful today, (Y/N).”
“Today?” she asks in mock offense and though he knows it’s really just a joke, he feels the need to explain himself.
“Don’t get me wrong. You’re always proper fit but that dress? You look like a fucking angel.”
The way she bites her lip slightly and bashfully averts her eyes for a second, is a success in his book.
She really does look gorgeous, a whole vision of perfection. The pink dress, the flowers — the necklace.
A shiny rose gold charm sparkles in the light, resting gently against her skin. Heart-shaped like his feelings for her. He knows the pendant opens up and he knows exactly what he’ll find if he were to open it.
His lips lift in an involuntary smirk.
“What’s that look for, Jam?”
“You still got the necklace.”
She places a gentle hand against her chest, against the heart-shaped charm.
“Obviously. I will never ever ever get rid of it. I love it. You stole this for me!”
He was 14 and stupid and head-over-heels in love. He still remembers the sticky heat of the summer clinging to his skin, the taste of watermelon on his tongue, and the thought of her on his mind.
They spent all day riding their bikes around town with nowhere to be and everywhere to go. It was a good day, a phenomenal day. She shared her ice cream cup with him and held his hand on the way back to their bikes. It was a phenomenal day and Jamie was not ready to let it end just yet. Not when he couldn’t stop thinking about the way her eyes lit up as she looked at that necklace in the shop window.
In retrospect, it was an extraordinarily dumb idea, one of his worst to date, but it made her smile. The way she smiled at him when he gave her the necklace that he stole for her, that made it all worth it. The yelling from mum and the being grounded and the having to pay back the money by working at the store for 3 whole months that summer.
Her smile made it all worth it.
“Mum was so mad at me that day.”
“Well, you did commit theft, so —”
“Worth it though. Made you smile.”
“Oh, Jam you— “
The nickname gives him shaky knees, the interruption by the DJ gives him a fucking headache.
“May all the unmarried ladies please report to the dance floor, it’s time for the bouquet toss.”
“That’s my queue, I guess. Save me a dance, Jamie Tartt.”
He will save her every damn dance in his life. They are all hers if she wants them.
She stands in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by a bunch of other women, a flicker of friendly competitiveness shining in her eyes. If she’s joining in on the bouquet toss, that means she’s not married, does that mean she’s single?
Of course, he could’ve asked mum, she knows for sure, but that would just open a whole different can of worms. You don’t ask your own mum if the girl you’ve been in love with since you were 9 years old, is single. You just don’t, no matter how badly you want to know.
The DJ starts playing Girls just wanna have fun, (Y/N) hated that song. “It’s awfully overplayed”, she said one time they were driving in his car, before changing the station.
She must still hate it judging by the grimace that falls over her face for a mere second before she catches herself and puts another polite smile back on her lips.
Millie stands before the group of women, back towards her friends, and bouquet raised in the air before counting down.
One
Two
Three
The flowers fly through the air and land in the hands of a girl whose name Jamie can’t recall but she’s definitely one of the bridesmaids. Chelsea? Cristy? Something like that. She looks elated, a guy leaning against the bar looks mortified.
(Y/N) seems thoroughly unbothered by it all as she strolls back across the dance floor toward Jamie.
“Do you want me to congratulate you or give you my condolences?”
She just laughs and shakes her head “It’s not like I have any suitors waiting for me to offer them my hand in marriage anyway.”
So she is single. Not that it matters or anything. It’s good to know though.
His eyes sweep across her face, then her hair, where one of the daisies is barely holding on and just about to fall off. Without giving it another thought, as if moving on autopilot, Jamie gingerly plucks the flower from her hair and places it behind her ear. There’s something about her that makes him want to be soft, that allows him to be soft.
“Almost lost one.”
“Thank you, Jamie.”
The tenderness in her words almost sends him to his knees. When you’re used to words being sharp and bitter it’s hard to accept when they are silky and delicate.
“You have the saddest eyes, Jam. What’s bothering you?”
There is a big long metaphorical list of all the things that rest so heavy on his heart. The pressure of having to be the best version of himself at all times. The feeling of failure always creeping up on him. The fear of messing up. The idea of not being good enough.
The reminder of what could’ve been and of all that isn’t.
He has a whole big list of things that make him sad — he doesn’t say any of that though. Just shrugs his shoulders in nonchalance.
“Don’t know what you mean, I’m chuffed. Doing fan-fucking-tastic.”
She can read him like a book, always could. Jamie doesn’t know why he even tries to fool her, it’s not going to work either way.
“I know that’s a lie,” (Y/N) scoffs then regards him with a look he can’t place. It’s a mix between pity and something else, something warm and comforting. “I’m not going to force you to talk to me about it. I’m aware we aren’t as close as we used to be but I just want you to know that I am always in your corner, Jamie. Always.”
He has no doubt she means what she says but Jamie isn’t sure she really knows what she’s talking about. She knew him as a little kid, an awkward teenager, a misguided 20-year-old. She doesn’t know this new version of him. Bitter and a little lost — or maybe a lot.
Jamie isn’t sure this new him deserves her loyalty.
"There's something that does make me sad, actually."
"What's that?"
"The fact that I’ve not had a single slice of cake yet. That’s why I’m here, innit?”
“And I thought you were here to celebrate your cousin getting married.”
“Common misconception, really. I mean I am — but mostly it’s about the cake. Technically I’m on a diet but it's a wedding, that doesn’t count. We all know that.”
They both know he’s just talking out of his ass. Of course, he’s here for Millie. For the wedding and the family get together and all of it. And even a little for (Y/N). Because he really did miss her … so fucking badly.
“Oh well, let’s go get us some cake then. Can’t have you starving, not Jamie Tartt — the island’s top scorer.”
Jamie has done a lot of things in his life that he isn’t particularly proud of. He tries to see them all as learning opportunities, cautionary tales for a future him. Doesn’t mean he likes to think about them. Especially not his short but quite memorable stint on the dating show Lust conquers all. All the worst parts of him put on display for everyone to see and discuss and judge, every night at 8pm.
“You watched that then?”
“Uh, obviously?! What’s a best friend’s job if not to laugh about you while you make a fool of yourself on a dating reality tv show?”
It warms him from the inside out, to hear that she still considers him her best friend. He’s not sure he’s been very good at it in the last few years. Has barely talked to her. But then again, who makes the rules? Maybe some people are bound together so tightly from the very beginning that neither time nor distance can break them apart.
“I’ll have you know that I was number one on famous birthdays the day after I got eliminated from the show. So, who’s laughing now?”
“Were you? How long did that last?”
“Like a day, maybe 2. Then it went back to John Krasinsky, fucking wanker.”
“Aw babe, well you’ll always be my favorite person born on October 20th. “ she says as they both come to stand by the table decked out in cakes and other desserts. “ I do like the office though, hmm…”
"Oh, sod off. You’re breaking my fucking heart.”
He likes the way she hugs his arm in mock apology. She’s not sorry, in fact, she’s still laughing. It doesn’t matter if she’s laughing with or about him though. As long as there is a smile on her face, that’s good enough for him.
“Sorry. Can I make it up to you?”
Jamie nudges her shoulder with his, the way they always did when they were kids. That little boy that was so in love with her, he’s slowly but surely clawing his way to the surface again. Breaking free from Jamie’s ribcage where he has been kept hidden for such a long time now.
“Well, what about that cake then?”
The neon lights dip her in shades of blues and pinks and purples as she twirls on the dancefloor, weaving in and out of the crowd. Jamie is sure he’s seen this very moment in a dream of his before.
“Oh, you look so handsome, my baby. Are you having a good time?”
His mother’s voice cuts through his hazy daydreams as she plops down on the chair next to him. No matter how old he gets, Jamie doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of his mother’s affection. Her unshaken faith in him and her unwavering belief that he is a good man, after all.
“You’re my mum, you have to say that.”
“Absolutely not! Remember when you had that dangly earring? I told you right out you looked like a muppet.”
“Yeah you did,” he nods and takes a sip of his beer “Crushed me, honestly. Loved that earring. Thought I looked well cool.”
“Well, you know who didn’t hate it? (Y/N).”
That gets his attention. Eyebrows raised he takes his eyes off of the girl in question and turns fully towards his mother.
“How would she know? She didn’t see it.”
“Yes, she did. I showed her a picture when we had girls night.”
It's a nice image, his mum and (Y/N) having girls night. Sure, having them team up on him is terrifying, but he can't help but relish in the fact that his loves love each other so dearly.
"Girls night, huh? You ladies talk about me a lot then?"
"Are you joking?"
The way his mum raises her eyebrow is so familiar. It's the same damn expression he sees in himself all the time.
"That girl has been in love with you since you were kids. Of course, we talk about you a lot. You're all we talk about, Jamie. "
As a kid, Jamie always wondered what it felt like to put your finger straight into an electrical outlet. He never did it, obviously. But there was some strong curiosity there.
This is what it must feel like. Hearing his mother say that (Y/N) is in love with him, that's what it must feel like
Electric shocks straight to the heart.
“What?”
His mum just shakes her head, there’s that smile pulling at her lips. That typical mother's smile that tells you that they know you so much better than you know yourself.
“Come on now, Jamie. You know this is how she feels, everyone does. She adores you. Same way you adore her. That is how you feel, isn’t it?”
Of course, it is. She’s everything. She feels like an ocean being warmed by the sun. Warm and inviting and comforting. Beautiful. Tender. Soft.
“Don’t matter really, does it? We haven’t talked in so long. Doubt she even knows me well enough anymore.”
“She watches every match, goes to most of them if she can. She even bought that video game you’re on. Girl is almost as proud of you as I am. Look love, “ Mum rests a gentle hand on his arm. “I don’t know half the things that are bothering you right now but I do know that you’re struggling. I just want you to know that you are not a bad person, Jamie. The little boy you used to be deserved to be loved and so does the man you are now. You made bad choices but you still deserve love. We all make bad decisions sometimes. I know I made a lot of them when I was younger.”
“Hah, like having me.”
He passes it off as a joke but there’s a hint of truth swinging along. She was really young when she had him and while he knows she doesn’t resent him for it, he wonders if maybe her life would’ve turned out better had he not come along. Mum loves him unconditionally and she always makes sure he knows it so it’s a silly thing to think about really. It’s a fleeting thought and it really only shows itself when he’s already deep in his thoughts but when it does, it sends him spiraling.
The slap to the arm is not friendly or in good humor, that one is meant to sting.
“Don’t you ever say that again. You are my life, Jamie. I love you. Having you was the best decision I’ve ever made. You hear me?”
It’s dumb really, he knows Mum loves him. It’s always been them against the world (or well, them against dad, really). But sometimes his head gets so loud and fills itself with stupid thoughts.
“Yeah, of course. Sorry. I love you, mama.”
“Love you too, my baby boy. And I am so proud of everything you ever did, okay? Except maybe the earring.”
A chuckle falls from Jamie’s lips. “The earring was a bad idea, I got it.”
“Good. Now go dance with your girl, yeah? You two are driving me crazy.”
His girl. His girl wraps her arms around his neck when he walks up to her on the dancefloor. His girl looks up at him with the most radiant smile. His girl who feels like the sun and smells like lavender and wraps his heart in silk and sweet memories.
“Finally, thought I was going to have to drag you onto the dancefloor. You still owe me a dance.”
“Sorry. Not much of a slow dancer, yeah? I do know some great boy band choreographies though, and the cha-cha slide.”
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. Coach made us learn a full N'sync routine for Doctor Sharon's going away party. She didn't show up but I was fucking ace. I’m sure Keeley has a video of it somewhere.”
She grants him a smile though it doesn't reach her eyes.
"How is Keeley? How are you guys?"
There's an edge to her words and if he didn't know better he'd call it jealousy. But that doesn't make sense … right?
There's no him and Keeley, at least not in the way she's asking about. There never will be. Keeley is one of his favorite people but her friendship means so much more than any fickle try on upholding a relationship doomed to fail. Jamie thinks there's something brave and mature about that realization.
"She's good. We're good. Friends I mean. Good friends."
"No more dating?"
"Nah she's dating one of my best friends. Hated it at first but they're kinda perfect for each other. It's a bit disgusting, really."
Those words manage to pull the smile all the way up to reach her eyes. It's magnificent. Spectacular. A laugh tumbles from her lips, a sound so sweet if he were to taste it, he's sure it would put the most delicious honey to shame.
"You know," Jamie speaks and pulls her closer as they absentmindedly sway along to the music " I never thanked you."
"For what?"
"For the phone call that one night."
It was just after Manchester had kicked him out. No one wanted to sign him. He had burned bridges with everyone who ever stood by him and gave him a chance and Jamie had never felt more lost and more alone.
He just needed someone. A piece of home. A reminder of the 9-year-old boy who loved football for the fun of it all. He needed her.
He hadn't expected her to pick up that night, he really didn’t deserve it. But she did. Of course, she did. She always did.
"You don't have to thank me for that, Jamie. You are you and I am me and I will always pick up the phone for you."
It's such a simple thought. The most basic of all concepts. You are you and I am me and there will always be a space for us in my life and yours.
"I just - I felt very alone and lost and I hated the person I was then. It was like I was some boat or something, stuck on a cliff. And then when I talked to you and you had my back anyway it was like all my fears that I told you about suddenly disappeared, you know? Like you sent me a wave, a flood and gave my boat a lift over the rocks. I know it sounds fucking silly but Ted has me reading all these books with the big words. Making me feel all smart and philosophical."
She's so gentle when she combs her fingers through his hair, tugging some strands back behind his ear. He will never grow tired of soft touches and even softer looks.
"Jamie, even if I didn't like the person you were then, I loved you anyway. I don't have to like you to love you. Loving someone means accepting that they make mistakes but giving them room to become the person you know they can be. You wanted to change for the better and honestly, I think you turned out pretty spectacular."
Jamie isn’t quite sure if he will ever grow used to receiving love in the form of comforting words and soft touches but he truly relishes in it, always.
"Do you wanna get out of here? Party is about to wind down anyway. Don't think anyone's gonna miss us."
The night feels heavy with possibility.
"Sure, Jam. Where do you wanna go?"
"Doesn't matter. Nowhere. Anywhere. As long as I'm with you."
The glimmer in her eyes tells him she has an idea.
The bench by the side of the field looks the exact same it did when he was a kid. Chipping red paint and rotting wood. Initials in permanent marker forever immortalizing past versions of whoever wrote them down. Time forever frozen.
Jamie is 9 years old again and he is also 11 and 13 and 16 and 25. It’s all the same. It’s all so different.
The field is no field anymore, it’s now a proper little football pitch with a goal on each side.
“What happened here then? That wasn’t there when we were little.”
(Y/N) strolls across the field, twirling in her dress illuminated by the moon and the streetlamps. She looks like something out of a movie. He’s sure if he was a smarter man, more poetic, he’d be writing songs about her, poems, books.
In that book Ted made him read, there’s this one line that Jamie suddenly remembers.
“She was dazzling-- alight; it was agony to comprehend her beauty in a glance”
He thought those were just big words for saying some girl was well fit. He thinks he might get it now.
“Yeah well, some of us put together some money and convinced the neighborhood council to finally turn it into a proper pitch.”
“Some of you?"
“Mostly your mum, Simon, and I”
She meets his eyes across the field and his heart still does the same silly shimmy it did when he first saw her face.
“Why?”
“So another little 9-year-old kid gets to play with actual goals and doesn’t have to use plastic bottles.”
They did it for the kids, the community. But they mostly did it for him, for the child in his heart that never grew up. That is clinging to his insides and that only gets to live in his memories and in the hearts of the people he loves. The people that love him.
(Y/N) leans against one of the goalposts, a smile playing on her lips as Jamie strolls up to stand in front of her, hands buried in the pockets of his pants. His jacket is long forgotten on some chair back at the wedding venue.
“You know”, she says and lets her gaze drift upwards towards the sky. There is too much light to see the stars but Jamie thinks there’s still some kind of comfort knowing they are up there even when you can’t see them. The authors of the books Ted gives him, they’d have some flowery pretentious allegory to tell about all of this. He is no author, he's just a fool in love.
“This is where I had my very first kiss. Right here.”
Jamie wonders if she knows of the little electric shocks she sends straight to his heart when she lowers her head and looks straight at him while speaking those words.
It’s not news to him. Of course, it’s not.
He was there.
“Oh, was it?”
“Yup.”
“Hope the lad was alright.”
“He was perfect — for a twelve-year-old. I was also 12 though so I had nothing to compare, really.”
“What was he like? Lucky kid.”
“He had this really badly bleached blond hair. Tried to do it at home with a cheap box dye. Didn’t listen when I told him it was a bad idea.”
“I bet he looked fucking cool.”
“Had a bit of an ego, that one. Still does. Bit misplaced for someone who looked like Draco Malfoy.”
“You had a big fat crush on Draco Malfoy.”
“Yeah,” he doesn’t know when it happens. One moment they’re joking around, strolling down memory lane and the next her hand is in his hair, his hand on her waist, noses almost touching. “I did.”
“Do you wanna know a secret?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That was my first kiss too.”
There’s a flicker of surprise shining in her eyes.
“Huh? You said your first kiss was with Emma behind the playground.”
“Well I was lying, wasn’t I? Wanted you to think I’m cool and experienced.”
“We were 12 you dum dum. And I always thought you were cool.”
He was not cool at 12. No one is cool at 12. It still makes him weirdly proud to hear her say it. 12-year-old Jamie would be positively buzzing at that revelation.
“I um — Jamie, why did we never talk about it again? I know we were 12 and whatever but it meant something to me. Did it mean anything to you?”
Some memories, Jamie thinks, are meant to be shared. You want to tell everyone about them over and over again and it feels like you might burst if you don’t share them with others.
And then there are memories that are meant just for you. Beautiful places to escape to. So you keep them hidden in your chest, apart from everything else but your heart when they beat in sync. And they become part of you. And they keep you alive. That’s where he keeps this kiss. The first one. The only one that ever mattered.
“It means everything to me. But I — I wanted to keep that kiss to myself. That was mine and yours and I didn’t want anyone or anything to ruin that or turn it into something bitter and sad. “
“If I were to kiss you again, would you also want to keep that a secret?”
He shakes his head, his nose gently nudging her’s with the movement.
“Nah, I’d wanna scream it from the fucking rooftops.”
When she kisses him he is 9 years old again, seeing his future staring right back at him through the face of a little girl. He is 12 years old kissing her in the field, a kiss he’d kept with his heart ever since. He is 14 crying on the floor of her room the night he got back from the Amsterdam trip with his dad. He is 16 and a prick to everyone but her.
He is 25 and more in love than he’s ever been.
“50 fucking pence? Are you joking?”
“Nope. Dead serious.”
“That’s fucking mental.”
Her laughter echoes through the night as they walk down the familiar streets paved with countless memories. He#s holding her hand and he’s never felt more delighted about anything so simple.
“They still taste fucking great though.”
“They do, don’t they?”
Leave it to (Y/N) to continuously surprise him. As they started their walk back towards her house, she pulled two Cadbury Freddos from her sparkly purse. Jamie can almost feel the sun on his skin from all the walks they did to the corner shop during summer holidays to get some Freddos and a smarties pop-up ice.
“Don’t tell Roy I ate chocolate though, he’s gonna kick me ass.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
Her childhood home is coming into view just down the road and with it the end of this night. The door is a deep red color, he remembers (Y/N) helping her dad paint it when she was maybe 10 or 11 and her parents never seemed to have changed it since.
“Soooo what’s happening now?”
It feels a little silly to ask but Jamie has spent so much time keeping his questions inside of his head and not voicing them to her and he wonders just how much time he wasted because of that. Time he could’ve spent with (Y/N).
“I — I don’t know, Jamie. I want this to be. I want us to be, always did. Probably always will. But I don’t want you to choose me because being home pushed you into some kind of nostalgia-induced stupor or something. I want you to be sure about us. So, how about you sleep on it and tomorrow morning you pick me up for breakfast and we’ll talk? “
If he’s being entirely honest, he doesn’t want to talk. All he wants is to kiss her and then kiss her some more. To make up for every second that he wasted not telling her how he felt. But she is being rational and sensible as always and he has to respect that. Out of the two of them, she was always the reasonable one while Jamie did first and then thought about it later.
“Okay yeah. I’ll see you in the morning then.”
“Goodnight, Jam.”
“Night, (Y/N). You look beautiful by the way, not sure I said it.”
“Thanks, you look very handsome too.”
There’s an I love you on the tip of his tongue and he so desperately wants to say it but when she places a kiss on his cheek and opens the red door, all his thoughts just slip from his mind.
“Bye, Jamie.”
“Bye.”
He stays stuck for a moment or two before his legs slowly carry him down the road. The night is inky black and the street lamps' horrid orange-hued light reflects against the asphalt.
So many times he’s walked down this exact road wondering what could be. Wondering how to show her how much he loved her. Wondering if someday, somehow they would end up together.
9-year-old Jamie knew she was his destiny from the moment their eyes met across the football field. What would he think seeing him now, walking away from all he ever wanted?
What’s that quote from that romcom the team watched together the other day?
“When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
The shiny black shoes he’s wearing are not meant for running. He figures that out as he turns on the spot and rushes back down the street toward the red door. There is no need for him to sleep on anything. He has never been more sure about anything in his life. Ever.
His heart is racing as he reaches the house, as he knocks on the door, and as he rings the doorbell — for good measure.
His heart stops when she opens the door, her dress gone and exchanged for a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt.
“Jamie? You forgot something?”
“I don’t need to sleep.”
“What?”
“I don’t need to sleep on it. I know what I want. I want us, I want you. Always did. Always will. You’re the only person I want to talk to when I feel shit and you’re the first person I want to tell when something good’s happened. I want to ride my bike with you the way we did when we were kids and eat freddos with you even if they’re 50 fucking pence now, which is insane. I want to go to weddings with you and dress up fancy and I want to sit on the couch and watch movies with you we’ve both seen a million times. I want you to make fun of my stupid earring and have you help me dye my hair and I want to kiss you and tell you how beautiful you are every single fucking day. I want everything and anything as long as it involves you. And I don’t need to sleep on it. I am sure.”
“Jamie?”
“Yeah?!”
“Kiss me!”
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
It feels right, to hold her and to kiss her. Like all his life has been leading up to this moment. To her soft lips on his and her hands in his hair and his hands on her waist.
And he thinks she might just feel the same. She doesn’t need to say it to let him know. She tells him with his tongue, with the gentle touch of her fingers against his skin, with her breath in his lungs.
He is 9 years old and also 12 and also 14 and 16 and 20 and 25. He is all those versions of himself and each of them was and is in love with (Y/N).
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt x female reader#jamie tartt x f!reader#jamie tartt x fem!reader#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt fanfic#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt imagines#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt oneshot
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I never know what to think about (I think about you)
summer sleepover masterlist
jamie tartt x gn!reader
summary : “hugging and absentmindedly kissing their neck, resulting in mortification for one of them” requested by anon
an : someone requested this for ted too so that will be coming soon bc I love love love this prompt :,(( I have never finished a fic faster because I was anxiously speed typing trying to get this written while I waited to join the que for eras tour tickets 😭 update just before I post: I got eras tour tickets!!!!
You were dancing around Jamie’s kitchen while you cooked breakfast, jumping about to whatever song had come on the radio while you scrambled eggs and flipped over pieces of bacon.
It wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself in the footballers kitchen in the early hours of the day, last nights clothes still on and reeking of alcohol, and you highly doubted it would be the last. Jamie had a bad habit of encouraging the party - for whatever occasion and wherever it had started - to end up back at his place. But when it’d happened last night, you’d found yourself sneaking off to his guest room and crashing out there.
You knew Jamie wouldn’t mind, he never did, but you felt like making breakfast was the least you could do as a thank you for letting you stay, an apology for inevitability scaring him when he woke up to find you still in his house, and another apology for stealing one of his hoodies to combat the cold.
If you hadn’t been so caught up in making breakfast and dancing your way between cupboards, you might have noticed Jamie leaning against the doorway, arms folded across his chest.
To Jamie, you were completely irresistible. There was no doubt about it. Every minute of everyday he found himself thinking about you; about the curve of your smile, and the blush that would fill your cheeks whenever you were close to him, about the way you wore his jersey to every match and how you’d made yourself fully at home in his life, in his house. The domesticity of the scene before him was breaking his heart. You. In his jumper. Making him breakfast. He almost couldn’t believe it.
Almost.
Jamie knew that’s just the kind of person you were; caring almost to a fault and more considerate of others then yourself. He was half waiting for you to spew out some apology for using his food to cook him breakfast.
When it never came, and it became clear you had yet to notice his presence in the room, he crossed the length of the kitchen, snaking his arms around your waist and laughing when you jumped back against him in surprise.
“Making breakfast for me, are you?” Jamie’s rested his chin In the crook of your neck, staring over your shoulder at the food you’d made him. The fact you’d remembered even the little things - like he only ate eggs scrambled, or that he liked his bacon extra crispy - made his heart absolutely melt. “You must love me.”
If only Jamie knew how right he was.
His arms stayed around your waist as you finished plating up the food. You’d grown used to the constant contact when you were around Jamie. While at first he’d presented himself as cold and standoffish, once you’d gotten your foot in the door of his heart, he pulled you in, locked the door behind you, and threw away the key. Everytime he was near you, you expected an arm around you; over your shoulders or around your waist, in the privacy of his living room or in the changing rooms, he was always holding onto you like a lifeline.
When you quietly announced that breakfast was finished, Jamie picked up his plate from the counter, pressing a quick succession of three kisses to the conjunction of your shoulder and your necks. Kissing you? Now that was new.
As Jamie made his way to his dining room table, you stood frozen against his counter top, hands gripping the edge of the counter so tight that your knuckles were turning white. How had he done that so casually and walked away like it was nothing? Jamie hadn’t seen anyone in a while so you knew it wasn’t out of habit and it was never something you’d done before so it wasn’t that either. Despite the kisses cause, you were scared shitless that Jamie had seen your reaction to it, knew you were in love with him, and now wanted nothing to do with you.
“You alright love?” Jamie called from behind you. You could hear his fork being placed back against the table and the scrape of his chair against the wooden floors. Jamie clearly loved you; and in whatever way that was, it was enough.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” As you went to take your own seat at the table, you passed him, running your fingers through his hair then taking the seat next to him. “Eat up, or your food will get cold j.”
“You got it, love.”
You promised yourself that you could thin about what it meant later, when you weren’t on his clothes and in his house. But until then, you ate breakfast with Jamie, both discussing the events of the previous night and ignoring the events of the morning.
#beybaldes summer sleepover !!#jamie tartt oneshot#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x reader#ted lasso x reader
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