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#ted lasso fanfiction
danistartt · 11 months
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Gentleman- Jamie Tartt
pairings: jamie tartt x reader, richmond team warnings: language. i think i read this one too many times. about: request! secret dating because reader works for Richmond (as like pr or physio or something) but when they win a match one day Jamie is so overcome with joy he just has to kiss her
“Don’t you think someone is bound to get worried you’re coming in here every day?” you wonder, pinching away individual blades of grass stuck among the fuzzy dandelions of Jamie’s socks.
“Nah,” he says, watching your careful attention from his place on the pillow. He’s feeling bad about putting his muddy shoes over your clean lap, but you haven’t complained once, only appreciating the easy access to touch him. “They don’t know I come up here.”
You look perplexed. “Where do they think you go?”
Jamie shrugs. “The loo?”
“The one not in the locker room? Six times a day for ten minutes?”
“I keep myself hydrated,” he tells you, lifting up his water bottle to wag it at you. “Y’know, to keep up appearances.”
You chuckle, pushing the web of your thumb around his ankle and trying to touch your pointer. Your phone blinks up at you, the time precarious. Your hand slackens. “You need to get back soon.”
Jamie gets that sticky feeling he does whenever he has to leave something, gross and pleading at the pit of his stomach, his every cell calling out for him to use his time better. He wants to touch you like you’re touching him. He shifts onto his elbows and stares at you. “I can be a little late.”
You frown at the idea, your hands still and warm on his calves. “No, Jamie.”
“Yes, Jamie,” he murmurs, his arms making quick succession in tugging you to him. He’s strong, he’s always been strong, but you don’t tend to notice until he’s pulling you out from beneath his legs and hugging you in a single movement.
You don’t want to encourage him but you want even less to not make your delight shown at being pressed against his chest.
The minute changes. Your care for it begins to dwindle.
“Jamie!” you squeal, not moving. 
He says your name in the same tone, as condescending as he used to be but sweetened by the kiss he presses against your hair. “C’mon, love,” he encourages, a horrid influence working.
“No,” you insist weakly. “Ted’s waiting for you. The team’s waiting for you.”
“But I’ve been waitin’ for this all day,” he complains pointedly. “Maybe I should trip o’er the ball or somethin’. Make a nice excuse to spend hours here with ya.”
“Jamie Tartt? Not believable.”
He makes a pleased noise, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You’re right.”
Another minute. Ted’s brown eyes bore into your subconscious.
Painfully, you peel yourself off of Jamie, slotting his thighs between your own. You watch his pupils dilate from above him.
“No,” you start, gently holding his face in your hands in a plea and causing the opposite effect you’d meant to. “No time. Later.”
He grasps your coat tightly.
“I promise. Just go to practice.” You spy the time and scramble off of him. “Now.”
He groans, catching your wrist when you hurry to collect the loose strands of his hair. He holds up a hand, pinky finger outstretched, and stares in question.
You roll your eyes but hook your own through his, a grin making its way to his face. “Y’know these’re binding, right?” he asks pragmatically.
You’d taught him that. The prick. “Yes,” you say exasperatedly, trying to pull him off the couch.
“‘M goin’,” he mutters, letting you. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”
“No you will not,” you gasp. “They’re going to think you have a bladder infection.”
“I’ll make somethin’ up,” he shrugs, looking around. He picks up your keys off your desk and wags them. “Maybe you dropped your keys when you were headin’ in.”
“Jamie,” you warn. “You can’t leave the team so much because, beside the fact that they’ll notice something is up, you actually like being with them and—”
“I like you better. A lot prettier.” He closes his fingers around the keys.
You inch closer slowly,  but he’s undeterred and blows you a kiss, leaving your office with only muddy tracks left in his place before you can catch up. “Do not come by in half an hour!”
He listens to you. Kind of.
You see him a few hours later, a cocky glaze on his features, keys clicking against one another. “Hey, doc, I think ya dropped somethin’.”
You snatch them from him. “What a gentleman.”
“Right? Had to fight for it, too. Coach must really like returning keys.”
“How’d you get him to give them up?”
“I jus’ left,” he shrugs.
You gape at him. “What?”
“I told ‘im I found your keys, he said he’d give ‘em to you after practice. I said you might need ‘em now and then I just went inside ‘fore he could call Will over. I should actually be gettin’ back now, our screaming break’s probably over.” He slinks over to you and kisses your forehead, smelling like grass and sweat and lavender detergent.
“What?” you echo.
“I’ll see you later. Can you pick up some food before you get home? Kent don’t really like it when I leave the screamin’. Says it’s most effective on me.”
He smiles at you, waves, and leaves you perplexed.
You put down what he stole from you and notice vibrant pink peeking beneath metal, a green stem’s end through the ring. When you pull it out, you recognize it as one of the flowers that keep growing at the far right edge of the field. You melt into your seat, pouting at the crumpled petals.
-
“So, what’s the verdict, Doc?” Ted asks when you come out of your room, dipping a finger behind your right glove.
“He’ll be okay. He can play this week’s game as long as he doesn’t put too much pressure on his foot. I told him to ice it periodically for two days and then just make sure it isn’t swelling.”
“No permanent damage, then?”
You laugh. “No permanent damage.”
Sam pushes your door open, leaning on a crutch.
“How you feelin’, champ?” Ted asks.
Sam shrugs. “I’ve been better. At least Doctor Y/n gave me the all clear for this week.” He looks pointedly at you, as if Ted might need confirmation from you.
“Under what conditions?” you pry.
“Rest, ice, compress, and elevate,” he lists off his fingers.
“The most important for you, Mr. Obisanya, being…”
“Not being on it for two days,” he answers, ever the great student.
“I wish all my patients listened as well as you do,” you commend, letting him go with a smile.
Ted watches him go, turning back to you with a cheery expression. “Well, thank you, Doc.”
“It’s what I’m here for.” You toy with your gloves, listening to the team erupt in noise once Sam assumedly gets back.
“And also to bring a smile to all our faces. Not to say that’s a purpose. Just a nice bonus.”
You laugh. “Thank you, Ted. Is there anything else you need from me?”
He shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. Just wanted to ask if you were interested in goin’ out with the team and I tonight.”
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, just the Crown and Anchor. We haven’t officially asked ‘em yet, but one thing that doesn’t change no matter where we are is that athletes always appreciate a good drink with good company.”
“Very true,” you murmur, contemplating. You hadn’t gone out with the boys in a while and you were beginning to miss their antics. You could sit around the house for the evening, or you could spend that same evening a little drunk with your friends. “You know what? Sure. I’d love to.”
“Alrighty then!” Ted cheers, pleasantly genuine in the way no one else is. “I’ll let ‘em know. We’ll see ya later, Doc!” 
“You too, Ted!” you call after him, slumping into your chair once you’re alone. Your phone vibrates from the table, lighting up with a picture of Jamie that he’d insisted you set as his profile picture. “Hello?”
“Coach says yer coming with us tonight?”
You stare at your door. “He just left. How could he have possibly already told you that?”
“Team groupchat. He was very insistent about it an' m'honestly not that upset about it anymore.”
You laugh. “I am going. Are you?”
“Course. D’you want me to pick you up?”
“How do we explain that?”
“I’m a gentleman?”
“To this degree? Do you think they’d believe that?”
“I’ll go before. Help ya pick out your clothes, put ‘em on?”
“You’ll see me when I get there.”
“C’mon, love. I want to be the first.”
“You always are!”
“Do you really wanna risk that streak?”
“Yes.” Other voices begin to filter in, still far away but getting closer. “I’ll see you there, Jamie. I love you.”
Jamie pauses, a soft shuffling noise preceding what is clearly Jamie’s palm curving around his phone’s speaker. “I love ya, too,” he whispers. You hang up, leaning into your seat. Your phone zzpts in your hand.
send a picture. Three dots, blinking in and out. please.
Humming, you debate it before: i’ll think about it. 
-
Jamie, of course, is the first to see you.
He looks for you in every creak of the pub door, slyly craning his neck to check for the color of your hair or the burgundy coat you tend to wear on these outings. When he finally catches sight of you, he looks away, satisfied to have been the owner of the first glance.
The others spot you quickly, raising their beers in your direction. Zoereaux puts your drink in your hand, cold bubbles splashing the curve of your thumb.
You thank him, kissing his cheek in greeting as the others crowd you. “Maybe I should be worried you all know my order.”
“Absolutely not,” Ted chimes in from your other side. “Knowledge is love.” He hugs you too. “Glad you could make it, Doc.”
You push yourself onto a seat next to Jan Maas, tipping your glass at him. “You look nice,” he says.
“Thank you,” you respond. “You too.”
“Doc?” Isaac asks.
“You can call me by my name, Isaac.”
He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Nah. Feels weird now.”
“Alright. What’s up?”
“My sister says thank you for the advice. Her leg’s all better now and she told me to invite you over for dinner.”
“She doesn’t have to do that.”
“She insists.”
“You should just accept,” Colin says. “She makes a good Shepherd’s pie and won’t give up.”
Isaac nods, jutting a finger in his direction.
“Of course, then. Can’t wait.”
The conversation continues, and you indulge a glance at Jamie to find him looking back at you, an inquisitive pull to his brows. Your eyebrows jump, trying to ask a question with only your features.
You pull your phone from your pocket and begin typing out a message for him when the topic somehow heads back to you.
“Hey, d’you end up going on that date?” Bumberbatch asks suddenly.
You blink. Jamie turns to him curiously. “What?”
“With the prick. You know. Coiffed hair, All puffed up.”
“Um.” You try very hard to not look at Jamie, who’s surely staring at you with wide, amused eyes. “Yes. Yes I did.”
“How’d it go?” Isaac urges. Your mouth is open with no certain words to comfort.
“Yeah. How’d the date with the prick go?” Jamie pipes up, sliced brow up. He’s awful. Truly, truly awful and he knows it.
You force a smile at him. “Not as bad as I thought.” The team mumbles in satisfaction but Jamie doesn’t give.
“Not as bad, huh?” Jamie repeats, lips thinning in thought. “I dunno.” He does a little shake of his head and licks his lips, meeting your eyes again. “Maybe it went a little better than that?”
You clear your throat, heat rising to your face though you try desperately to keep it down. 
Colin raises a brow. “Why would you say that?”
Jamie shrugs, unfairly unphased. “Just askin’.”
The attention moves off of you. You glare at him.
He smiles and, in the wake of a controversial argument between cartoons, winks at you. Your legs go weak.
-
You’re supposed to sit with the coaches during matches. Keeley had been upset at first and Rebecca sorry, offering a replacement medical professional for a game if you were so inclined to observe a game from the box seats, but you’d refused. Your place, although precarious with flying balls and the grandest source of stress, is kind to you. 
You sit behind Ted during matches. The back of his head is surprisingly comforting in the tensest points of a match, and you find you can catch the preliminary movements of his fingers when you’re nearby.
There isn’t much contorting you have to do to sprint into the field if you’re needed, and the seat itself isn’t too bad when you’re not. Also, you have a great view.
You’re close enough to feel the strength with which the players kick the ball, you’re part of the very exclusive audience to the coaches’ hope, and when he gets close enough, Jamie can hear your cheers for him very clearly.
You’re completely sure he can hear you now, shouting at the top of your lungs up front with the coaches, fists tight enough to shake. He speeds up with renewed energy, the ball a blur between fast legs and fake passes. You grasp Roy’s arm with everything in you and let your eyes move to the timer. Less than fifteen seconds to go and a tie glares in blocky red numbers.
Your fingers spark with something hot, curling tighter around Roy’s wrist when the ball is passed to Jamie.
The time goes by too slowly and the ball flies too fast, a defender slamming to the ground with his hands up as Jamie’s kick sends the ball into the net. The clock ticks for the last time. The arena erupts in sound and a combination of red and blue.
You scream, finally letting go of Roy to drag your hands to your face. Isaac and Dani embrace on the field, most of the others running toward Jamie but Jamie is sprinting toward you.
You realize too late what’s going on, too proud of Jamie, too dizzy on adrenaline and excitement to realize what’s about to happen and why it shouldn’t.
He comes up to you beaming, picking you up easily and spinning you around. You respond immediately, palms against his warm cheeks, lips pressing repeatedly against his forehead and then finally his lips. “You did so good,” you praise, hoping he can hear you even through the overwhelming noise. “I’m so proud of you.”
He grins, finally catching your lips and lowering you to the floor. It takes only two seconds for what happened to settle in. You can see it on his face, the exhilaration contorting into recognition. He finally looks away from you and gulps.
The stadium is still loud, but most of the team is looking at you, caught in differing positions of celebration. Ted stares at the both of you, jaw dropped.
“What do we do?” he whispers to you. “Do you think they’ll believe it if we say it was an accident?”
“No,” you respond just as quietly. “No, I don’t think so.”
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yelena-bellova · 10 months
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Heartfirst Masterlist
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Plot: Coming off a string of work failures, Y/n has a chance meeting and is offered a job doing public relations for AFC Richmond. Though she tries to maintain professional and personal boundaries, she finds herself dragged into the world of a sport she never cared about and a family she never asked for.
Chapter One: A Chance Meeting
Chapter Two: Part of the Team
Chapter Three: Meet the Greyhounds
Chapter Four: Learning Curve
Chapter Five: Golden Boy
Chapter Six: The Devil You Don’t
Chapter Seven: Movin’ On Up
Chapter Eight: Saturday Morning
Chapter Nine: People Watching
Chapter Ten: Three Characters
Chapter Eleven: Christmas for Two
Chapter Twelve: Hold You Close
Chapter Thirteen: The Hills
Chapter Fourteen: All That You Are
Chapter Fifteen: Wembley
Chapter Sixteen: Failure
Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart
Chapter Eighteen: Free
Chapter Nineteen: Let’s Do This Right
Chapter Twenty: Believe
Chapter Twenty One: Coming Home
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buckychristwrites · 10 months
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About You | Masterlist | j.t. |
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A Completed Series
Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader
Summary: Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you’re publicly feuding with.
Warnings: Lots of cussing. Some angst. Some fluff. Enemies to lovers
A/N: I’ve never written for Jamie before so i hope I do him justice. Enjoy! :)
Prologue
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Epilogue
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uneditedidiot · 9 months
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i can see you - jamie tartt x reader
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i can see you - jamie tartt x reader
jamie tartt x gn!reader
summary: Jamie can’t stop imagining you pressed up against the wall and his mouth on yours…will he act on it? Based off the song I Can See You by Taylor Swift from Speak Now Taylor’s Version.
word count: 1.4k
Warnings: COULD be considered NSFW so maybe MDNI (18+) just in case, implied smut, Jamie pining after you, language
A/N: I started this the day Speak Now TV came out, but I didn’t get the chance to finish it until now cause I was moving and didn’t have internet. This gets a LITTLE spicy, so enjoy. :) also THIS GIF 👀
’Cause I can see you waiting down the hall from me
And I could see you up against the wall with me
And what would you do? 
Baby, if you only knew
That I can see you
Well…Jamie was fucked.
You stood down the hall from him talking with Keeley about the big press conference coming up for the team, making sure you’d scheduled everything for the boys that you needed to.
Jamie couldn’t hear the conversation, just stood gazing at you with a soft expression by the water fountain. He’d told himself that staring probably wasn’t the best idea, as you had a rule that you didn’t date people on the team, but he couldn’t help himself. Everything you did, everything you said, even how you moved…he was hopelessly in love with you.
He had imagined this scenario at least a hundred times. You’d walk down the hall to him. He’d wrap his arms around you, one hand on the back of your neck, the other on the small of your back, and pull your lips to his. Then you’d slide your hands up over his shoulders, reciprocating the passionate kiss, and he’d walk you slowly backwards so that you were pressed against the wall at the mercy of his hands and mouth. And that’s where you would stay; bodies pressed together in a way that made you both want each other even more, ready to find an empty room at a moments’ notice. Then after you’d both spent at least an hour (if not more) drawing pleasurable experience out of pleasurable experience out from each other, you’d both confess your love for the other.
He shook himself out of this enchanting imaginary moment when he saw you laugh at something Keeley said, pat her shoulder, and start walking down the hall towards him.
“Fuck,” he hissed as he noticed you notice him staring. He spun quickly on his heel, pretending to fill up his already full water bottle.
He heard your footsteps approaching, then silence as you came to a halt in front of him.
“Uh, you realize your bottle is already full, right?” you teased.
He glanced up, stopping the spout from sending more filtered water cascading over his hands into the drain. He felt his cheeks grow warm.
“Erm, can’t ever be too hydrated,” he heard himself stutter. “Coach Lasso is always gettin’ on me to drink more water, so…here I am doing that.”
You wrinkled your eyebrows in a confused smile, which sent butterflies fluttering about in his stomach. You were just so cute…
“Ted wanted me to let you know that he’s going to call you up to talk about your assists this month,” you told him. “And Roy wants to talk to you in his office after the conference. Something about…” You checked your phone, frowning in puzzlement. “...Uncle’s Day?”
“Shit,” he cursed. He averted his eyes bashfully. “Yeah, I might’ve…intruded a little on Phoebe’s holiday with him.”
You rolled your eyes good naturedly. “Oh come on, you know Roy. He acts like he’s some untouchable, rough-and-tumble, aggressive bear, but on the inside, he’s like a cute, angry little duck.”
Jamie let out a huge laugh. He was afraid it might have sounded too eager or loud. The self-conscious, nagging voice in his brain told him that it was dumb to laugh like that at such a small joke.
But you clearly enjoyed that he found your joke amusing. Your face went slightly pink, looking almost a little embarrassed.
“Should I tell Roy you’ve just compared him to a duck?” he joked.
You feigned an attitude but your smile was evident. “Alright. Go ahead. What would he do? Yell at me? He does that anyways.”
“Yellin’ is that man’s love language, I swear.”
“What’s yours?”
His breath caught in his throat. “What?”
You held his gaze confidently, eyes darkening slightly as you asked yet again, “What’s your love language?”
Jamie’s heart was stuttering. His brain had needed a moment to catch up to what you were asking.
“I, erm…” he stammered. His eyes bounced around, not able to meet yours. “For meself, it’s probably…eh, physical touch and, uh, words of affirmation.”
He finally was able to make eye contact. You clearly were paying attention, nodding as he finished speaking.
Jamie decided to be just as bold. “I told you mine, so you tell me yours.”
You smiled back. “Physical touch and quality time.”
He smirked, flirting back. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”
“I’d hope so,” you grinned, patting him lightly on the chest. Then without another word, you walked back down the hall, glancing back a few times to make sure he was watching. His chest tingled where you’d touched him.
Oh MAN…Jamie was really fucked now. Had you been thinking of the same things?
He questioned the interaction over and over again in his mind throughout the rest of that day. He knew he was distracted, especially during the press conference. Ted had to get his attention multiple times so he could answer questions that had just been asked of him.
But after the conference was over and the work day had ended, Jamie decided to act on things.
He stood by the water fountain, waiting for you to come down the stairs to go home. He tapped the top of the cooler anxiously.
You’d both been very professional with each other up until that conversation earlier. He’d never been tempted this much to act on his feelings. He knew that if he had acted on them before, you’d have become an addiction for him, which he couldn’t afford at this point. But, again, that was before the flirty exchange about love languages earlier.
Footsteps.
There you were.
He inhaled sharply, butterflies in his stomach fluttering like mad.
He saw you appear, bag in hand, staring down at your phone as you stepped down from the last stair.
He called your name. You whipped around, puzzled. Your face lit up when you saw him.
“Jamie,” you said, “what are you still doing here? It’s like seven. I thought all the players had gone home.”
He smiled lightly, coming closer to you as he spoke. “There’s not many of us left. I think Sam and Isaac might still be here, but…I have something else I need to do before I leave.”
Your confused expression only grew. “And what’s that?”
He stopped right in front of you, faces inches apart. You made no effort to move away from him, just stared back at him. Your eyes flickered to his lips.
“This,” he replied softly.
Jamie crushed his lips to yours. The reciprocation from you was instant. You dropped your bag to the floor.
His hands wound around your body, hands caressing as much of you as possible. Your arms went up to his neck, one hand on the back of his head, the other over his shoulders.
Your mouths moved hungrily against each other, trying to feel as much of each other as possible. It was like rain had finally come after a drought. You both realized how much you’d wanted each other.
Jamie was licking into your mouth. You slid your hands to tug on the collar of his sweatsuit jacket. His fingers were tracing the sliver of skin between your t-shirt and jeans. Your whole body was on fire.
Jamie wasn’t thinking straight. He backed you into the wall of the hallway, pressing your body against his. There was no space between you at all. His knee moved between your legs, pressing up. You whined against his mouth. He smirked into the kiss and groaned.
This was exactly what he had imagined so many times before.
His lips trailed off yours down your chin and neck. He licked and bit and kissed his way to your jugular. His left hand went up the back of your shirt to trace your spine in an agonizingly delicious manner.
Your breathing was heavy, trying to find some relief on his knee as you ground down. His mouth was relentless on your neck. It was everything you’d wanted for so long.
You fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, pulling slowly down. His mouth was immediately back on yours, but he unzipped the jack quickly and slung it off.
He was only in a tank top, leaving his arms bare. You dug your fingernails into his biceps as he kissed over your jaw to behind your ear. He felt fireworks under his skin where you traced.
You let out an involuntary moan. He pulled away, grinning widely, lips still inches from yours.
“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Can’t have you alerting everyone here what we’re doin’, love. Not a sound...”
You pulled his lips to yours again. 
In between kisses, you suggested hoarsely, “boot room?”
Jamie pulled back again. You could feel his breath against your chin. “Are you sure?”
You nodded, blushing, still giving him some of your signature sass. “Obviously. I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I wasn’t.”
He pecked your lips once more, grabbing your hands and immediately leading you away to the boot room to act the rest of his fantasy…and yours.
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alloftheimagines · 1 year
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roy kent | just friends
MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | KO-FI
words: 3k
warnings: strong language because it's roy fucking kent, mentions of alcohol but not intoxication, bad date experiences with rude and not nice people, including comments on reader's body.
single parent!reader (they/them, bi/pan) x uncle roy in which he is your best friend and go-to babysitter when you have an awful date that ends early. protectiveness, hurt/comfort, and a heated confession ensues.
prompt: Roy Kent x Reader, Friends to lovers?
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You’ve never been more relieved to be home, even as the sound of screaming children drifts from your house. You press your forehead against the cool door, taking in a deep breath. “Past their bedtime. Again,” you mutter, but your best friend allowing your daughter to have a late night with his niece, Phoebe, is the least of your worries after what you just experienced. 
Horror. Pure horror. 
“Oi!” you hear the deep, gritty voice of Roy Kent echoing down your hallway. “Come back ‘ere and do my other hand! Can’t be walking around with only one set of fucking nails painted!” 
Giggles follow, and you smile despite yourself. They give you the energy to open the door finally, and you step in to find your hallway lit brightly, Phoebe flying out of the kitchen with chocolate smeared across her face and bright blue nail polish in her hand. 
“Don’t be getting that on my carpet!” you warn, alerting everyone to your presence. 
Your daughter, Maisie, skips out next, waving. “We’re painting Uncle Roy’s nails!”
“Lucky Roy!” She’d been calling him “uncle” for the past year, though neither of you is related to the footballer-turned-manager. Maisie picked it up from Phoebe, and Roy hadn’t seemed to mind, since you’re practically best friends anyway. You’re constantly trying to tire the kids out with play dates at one another’s house, or else exchanging babysitting duties so one of you can have a free night. Of course, Roy isn’t a single parent like you, but he watches Phoebe enough that you’ve formed a bond over the years, one that stemmed from your shared love of your chaotic children. 
That bond has blossomed into something much more than you bargained for, though. After all, he is Roy fucking Kent, and his rough exterior matched with his hidden, softer side was always going to be your downfall. But since he’s been in and out of relationships and never made a move, you’ve let the small crush lie, trying to distract yourself with dates. 
Terrible, terrible dates.
Like the one you had tonight. 
“You’re back early.” Roy emerges last, leaning against the doorframe as he blows on his wet-varnished nails. “It wasn’t the one who speaks like someone’s pressed fast-forward on the TV remote again, was it? I told you they’re a loser.” 
“No. No, it was someone far, far worse than Fast-forward Frank.” You sigh and try to ignore the flickering in your chest, because gruff footballer Roy Kent is currently being pampered by two ten-year-olds and seems to be enjoying every minute. 
“Fuck,” he deadpans. “I’ll grab the wine.” He wanders back into the kitchen. 
You huff again, kicking your shoes off your aching feet and heading into the living room, where the girls are painting one another’s nails. It was at least nice to snuggle up on your couch and watch, legs curled under you. They’re arguing, of course, but you’re good at tuning that out most of the time. 
“You look very nice, Y/N,” Phoebe compliments. “Are you dressed up for my Uncle Roy?”
“No.” Even so, your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but hope he noticed your appearance before you left earlier. In fact, you’d been wondering all through dinner why he’d pursed his lips, jaw ticking, as he’d looked you up and down with shiny, dark eyes. It hadn’t exactly been the look of a man who lusted after you. More the disapproving stare of a father about to tell his child to go and change. “I went on a date.”
“What’s a date?” Maisie asks.
“14th of April,” Phoebe answers confidently. You smirk, glad when they return to their own little world. 
“Right girls,” Roy says as he comes in. “Go and play upstairs, now. We’re talking about adult stuff now.”
“And you should be in bed,” you remind, because you suppose that one of you has to be the responsible parent, and it certainly isn’t him.
The kids groan but trudge out of the room, leaving you in peace. Somehow, that’s even worse. You don’t really know why; you’ve had lots of awful dating experiences, but tonight, you’re just… exhausted. You don’t want to have to keep searching for something that most people find without a problem. You don’t want to meet new people who you don’t connect with, don’t even really like, just because the alternative is sitting at home with only a child for company, or sometimes Roy. 
Roy places the wine on the coffee table and raises his brow. “Go on then. Tell me what was wrong with this one.” 
“It’d be quicker to tell you what’s right. They started by telling me to put a blanket under me in their car so I wouldn’t scuff their leather seats. And then when I told them I had a kid, they looked me up and down and said ‘ah, yeah, I can tell. Have you looked into cosmetic surgery?’” You wrinkle your nose as Roy scoffs. 
“You’re joking!” 
“I wish I was joking.” You rest your head against the couch cushion, closing your tired eyes. “They tried to order a salad for me after that. I told them fuck off, I’m having the garlic bread. They didn’t like that.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Do you have their address?” Roy is already scrambling to get up, and you aren’t sure if he’s joking or not. 
You roll your eyes and tug him back down. “Stop it.”
“I’m not fucking joking. Where does this wanker live?” 
Okay, you realise. Not joking. His jaw is clenched, brows even more furrowed than usual. You’ve seen him angry before, but never… seething. It rolls off him until you yank him down a second time. 
“I don’t need you to beat them up. I need you to drink wine and tell me I’ll find the right person one day.” You pout as you pick up your wine glass, only half-joking.
His nostrils flare, but he settles down. “You will find the right person,” he reassures. “People are just dicks. You deserve better than all that shit.”
“I wonder sometimes,” you admit. “Nobody wants a single parent. I’m a package deal, and… well, there’s a reason I’m still single after all this time.”
“Oi.” He nudges you, draping his arm around the back of your couch so you smell his aftershave. You turn into the warmth, the comfort, though there is so much space between you still. More than you’d like. In another life, he might have been the one you were looking for. In another life, you weren’t searching for a good, healthy, passionate love, because you’d found it long ago, in the schoolyard where you met. 
But you’re in this life, you remind yourself, and you’re a far cry from the people Roy has dated before. It’s clear you’re just friends. You always will be. 
You lift your brows, waiting for whatever lecture he’s about to give you. 
His eyes pierce yours. “Don’t even bother going there. You and Maisie deserve the fucking world, and fuck anyone who isn’t going to give it to you.” 
The words pierce your heart, and something damp and warm trickles from the corner of your eye. A tear, you realise too late. 
Roy sighs, the rough pad of his thumb brushing it away. You’re not surprised by his gentle touch, though most people might be. You know him too well to think him anything other than tender-hearted and caring to his core. 
“Don’t get fuckin’ upset over that prick. Please, sweetheart.”
“No. I’m not.” You sniff, feeling pathetic. “I’m just overwhelmed. Tired. That’s all.” 
His touch drifts to your hair, brushing through the strands and tucking a few behind your ear as your eyes flutter shut again. You could stay like this for a long time. For forever. He has no idea just how much you need him, how much better things feel when he’s around. It would just make sense, you and him — if you took away his fame, at least. You love one another’s kids. You’d become family over the years. You trust him with every fibre of your being as the one steadfast person you can count on. 
“Y’know, you’re the person I’d call in the middle of the night if I needed to bury a body. Or if I thought there was a ghost in my house or something,” you admit. 
His face crumples. “Ey?” 
“Just…” You lean into him, burying your cheek against his chest. “You’re the only person who hasn’t let me down or left me.” 
His movements are stiff as he wraps his arms around you, but he melts into you quickly, holding you to him until you’re not sure where you end and he begins. You hear his heart echoing in your ear. Feel the prickly bristle of his beard against your skin. It’s the safest you ever get to feel, and it’s rare you allow yourself to be so vulnerable. But tonight, you can’t find a reason to keep pretending. 
“I never would,” he whispers. “If it was me, if you gave me a chance at a family like yours… I wouldn’t fucking waste it. They’re idiots, all of them. You and Maisie are precious. You deserve the best. Don’t stop until you find it.” 
You pull away, pulse racing. It’s never felt right to address your feelings before, and perhaps tomorrow you’ll regret it. Maybe you’ll lose him, even, but you believe him when he says he isn’t going anywhere, and you have to know…
“What if I already have?”
His frown lasts for minutes, hours, as he looks down at you. And then you see it dawn on him, and you don’t want to hear how this story ends. You don’t want to be rejected twice in one night. You stumble up. “Forget I said that. I had a couple of drinks at the restaurant, and I’m all… loopy. I’m going to get some snacks. Are you hungry?” The drinks were non-alcoholic, but he doesn't need to know that.
“No,” Roy says. 
It’s all he gives you. The message has been delivered loud and clear. He doesn’t want you. Tears sting your eyes as you leave the living room, heading into the kitchen. You catch your reflection in the window and almost break down entirely. You’re an idiot, and you’ve gone and embarrassed yourself in front of the one person you can be yourself around. 
You grab a tissue, drying your tears, but fresh ones fall all the same. 
And then your back prickles and you know he’s followed you. 
“Oi,” he breathes gently, tilting your chin up as he reaches you. “What are you getting upset for?”
“I’m not,” you lie pathetically, looking anywhere but at him. “You can head off if you want. I can watch the girls tonight and drop Phoebe off—”
“Can we just rewind a minute? Do you… Do you think that you and me…?”
“No! God, no. No. No, no, no.”
“Oh.” He nods, leaning back on his heels. "So no then?"
“No!” 
“All right, I fucking get it.” He lifts his hands as though they might wipe it all away. “I just thought that’s what you were saying before, on the couch. I thought…”
“You should stop thinking, Roy.” You offer him a flustered smile, your face burning. “Honestly, let’s just forget about it.”
“Right. Fine.” More silence. And then: “What if I don’t want to?” 
“Don’t want to what?” 
He shrugs. “Forget about it. What if… we’ve both already found the right people?” 
Your body is electricity now, and you can barely breathe. “What… do you mean?”
He scratches his stubble, lowering his gaze. “Well, I could take you on a date. I’d be much better at it than the losers you’ve been seeing.”
You’re caught off-guard, hands trembling, “Is that what you’d like?”
“Well, I did. I mean, I’ve wanted to. I just… you’ve already said no. Several times. So I suppose I got my answer, and that’s that.” 
“Well, I didn’t think you saw me that way. You’ve never asked before. Is this, like, a pity thing?”
“Fuck no!” he blurts too quickly. “I mean, no. 'Course not. And you’ve never mentioned it before either, by the way. You’re always going on all these fucking dates. When was I supposed to ask? Between Fast-forward Frank and that fucking woman obsessed with her pet ferret?” 
You blink, puzzled. “I mean… if you asked, I wouldn’t have gone on dates with Ferret Fiona.”
He throws his hands up in the air. “Now she fucking tells me.”
You don’t like the implication that you’ve been the one holding him back. “Well, it’s not like you’ve ever tried, is it? I mean, I’ve been single for years and you’ve never made a move, even before all this online dating palaver! And you’re not exactly easy to read, by the way. You’re always frowning, even when I’m trying to bloody well impress you! What was I supposed to think? That you fancy me when you always look like this?” You moulded your expression into a big, dramatic, brooding glower and hope it encapsulates everything that is Roy. 
He crosses his arms over his chest, looking angry now. Proving your point. “Oi! I don’t do that with my lips,” he points out. “And you’re always talking about how badly you want to find someone when I’m sitting right fucking here! That’s mixed signals, mate.”
“It was me hinting! Hoping!” you shout. “I was just waiting for a sign, or something, but you never treated me like anything more than a friend!”
“Because I didn’t want to be like that creepy Allen bloke you dated last year! He was your friend too, if I recall!” 
You sigh, realising the conversation is going in circles. You look at him. He looks at you. Both of you are breathless, wild-eyed, rosy-cheeked, and you know you’ll always remember the way he looks, standing in your kitchen, infuriated and perhaps more open than ever before, because you see it now; that dark look in his eyes was never a guard, never a sign of being just friends. It was want, need. 
It was everything you already feel. 
“Why are you two arguing?” a meek voice interrupts. You both look to the door to find the girls hovering in the hallway. 
“We’re not arguing,” you assure quickly. 
“It’s adult stuff,” says Roy at the same time. 
“We don’t like it when you argue,” Maisie says. “Especially when you’re supposed to get married.”
“What?” you question sharply, turning red all over again. 
Phoebe nods as though corroborating Maisie’s story. “We’ve planned it all. It will be next June at McDonald’s, and Uncle Roy will bring you flowers, and we’ll all have milkshakes afterwards.”
You put your head in your hands, peeking through your fingers and surprised to find that Roy is smirking. “Sounds like a shit wedding, Pheebs. Where’ve you got this idea from?” he says.
“Well, Mum said you two will end up together because you clearly fancy Y/N and it is invevitable.” 
A laugh bubbles in your own throat at her attempt to say inevitable, though you’re still too stunned to speak. 
“See?” Roy whispers. “Everyone else knew. It's fucking invevitable.” 
You shiver, lowering your hands to meet his gaze properly. It’s soft and intent, nothing like the anger of a moment ago. 
“All right, girls,” you say. “Get your pyjamas on. We’ll be up to say nanight in a minute.”
You usher them away, closing the door to when you hear their footsteps on the stairs. You’ve never been more aware of his presence, the fact it’s just the two of you — you don’t even know who you are without the kids jumping about, sticking their noses in. 
“Have I fucked it all up?” he asks finally. 
“No. Have I?”
He shakes his head. 
“Then what now?” you question. “What does this… mean?” 
“Well…” He leans against the counter, fidgety as he smiles again. “I’ll take you on a decent fucking date for starters. No kids, and no more of whatever the fuck this argument was.”
The thought leaves you feeling cracked and seeping with excitement, though you try to play it cool. “Okay. That’s a good plan.” 
“Right. Good. Then… are you free Friday night?”
You inch closer to him, timid suddenly. “I don’t know. My usual babysitter is busy.”
He rolls his eyes and tugs you toward him so that your torsos collide, and then his fingers curl around the nape of your neck and you can think of nothing but the way his lips look, and what it must feel like, having them between your thighs, beard grazing your skin. 
“You’re an idiot,” he rasps. 
“Takes one to know one.” You lick your lips, then his mouth his on yours, rough and ready and desperate. You let him in, let his tongue explore your mouth. You know you shouldn’t. The girls might come back in, might already be listening, but you’ve wanted this for so long. 
You both have. 
You’re breathless when he stops, his hands lingering just above your belly as he bites down on a groan. “If I don’t stop now, there’ll be trouble.” 
You’re not willing to let go, though, and you rest your hands on his chest as you kiss his jaw. “And?”
“And I’ve waited a long fucking time to do this properly. Give you the care,” he kisses your nose, “you deserve. Sweep you,” another kiss, this time at the outer corner of your eye, “off your fucking feet. So I’m going to.” He steps away. “Friday. Seven. Find a new babysitter, and make sure they’re free all night.” 
With that, he steps away, leaving you wanting more. 
“Uncle Royyyyy!” Phoebe is calling. “Will you read us a story?”
He grins, kisses your forehead, and then is gone. You’re not sure your knees will hold you up if you follow, but you listen to him talking to the girls, making them laugh, and you have never felt more right, more complete. 
You’re a fool for thinking anyone else could be perfect for you when the man you love has been here all along.
1K notes · View notes
alwritey-aphrodite · 10 months
Text
Cruel Summer
no rules in breakable heaven
Pairing: Jaime Tartt x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ - smut(f receiving oral, other implied nonsense, cursing
Word Count: 5.5k
Author’s Note: clearly I’ve gotten caught up in the babygirl wave, my lovely wife @andr0medafallen helped me immensely and I love her. Also I’m just a slutty little virgin so I can’t be held accountable for any inaccuracies
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Conversations are swirling around you, music is blasting from a building down the street, you’re keenly aware of the blood pumping in your veins, and you need a goddamn break.
You loved spending time with Keeley, you really did, but it’s hot and muggy outside, and this is the fifth party you’d been to in the past week. Tonight, at least, is with the Richmond boys, and not some friend of a friend of Keeley’s where all you do is stand in the corner and drink by yourself. Keeley, ever the social butterfly, is off chatting with Rebecca and Leslie, giving you the opportunity to focus on not losing your mind.
It’s strange, to feel so simultaneously alive and asleep, and you could swear you can feel the air buzzing in your ears. You simultaneously want to go to bed and to stay awake for the rest of the night, it’s like your mind can’t figure out what it needs.
And then Jamie’s walking over to you and the world comes back into focus.
The two of you aren’t very close, connected mostly through your separate friendships with Keeley, but from what you’ve heard from her and from the internet, he seems to be turning over a new leaf. Though, there was a part of you that enjoyed his bad boy attitude, even when he was a bit of a dick.
Maybe you just had a thing for men who were emotionally unavailable.
“Want me to walk you home?” Jamie says after a few seconds of standing next to each other in silence, shocking you out of your silent appraisal of your surroundings.
“Huh?” Clearly, your brain-mouth connection is taking a while to get up to speed.
“You seem kinda out of it, I know you came with Keeley, figured I should ask if you wanted to leave.”
The kindness of his offer is a little shocking in the way it’s so purely sweet, and again, your brain seems a little slow on the draw.
“I’m alright, I can call a car in a bit,” you tell him, not wanting to drag him away from a fun night just because he saw you acting all mopey and uncomfortable.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind getting outta here,” and then it’s clear to you that his offer is simply an excuse for him to leave the party, and while your heart drops a little you can’t say you blame him.
“What the hell,” you respond anyway, finishing your drink before you turn to follow Jamie out of the party, stopping by Keeley to let her know you’re headed home.
The walk back to your place is mostly silent, the air hanging heavy and thick as you try to figure Jamie out. It’s clear that he’s changed from the first time you’d met him, back when he was only Keeley’s douchebag of a boyfriend, shortly before his stint on reality TV. Now, though, he seems different in some way that you can’t quite puzzle out.
“Wanna come up?” You offer, your heart and your brain in a heated argument over how awful and irresponsible of a decision that is.
“Nah, I’m alright,” he sticks his hands in his pockets and you try not to let your heart sink onto the ground with this cool-guy routine of his.
Still, you thank him for taking you home and head up to your apartment, flicking off your shoes and berating yourself for acting the way you did. Even though you’re an adult, and wanting to sleep with someone doesn’t make you a bad person, there’s a layer of guilt that hangs over your simple question, over your desires.
Maybe it’s because he’s Keeley’s ex, and even though she’s moved on and found her perfect match, girl code says you shouldn’t even look at him. Maybe it’s because as far as you know, he’s an awful person who would treat you like nothing. Or maybe it’s because he’s actually worked on himself and you’re going to self-sabotage anything good that could even possibly happen.
The guilt you taste at the back of your mouth doesn’t change the fact that you want him, though, so you throw a longing glance out your window and are surprised to see Jamie still standing on the street below. As quick as you can in your old building, you unlatch the window and push it open, sticking your head out.
“Change your mind?” You ask, a grin spreading on your face when Jamie jumps at the sound of your voice.
“That ok?” He throws back, looking a little bashful and so unfairly adorable that he makes you a little dizzy. You just nod in response, and he seems to get the message because he disappears from view and a few seconds later, there’s a knock at your door.
Briefly, you wonder if he ran up the stairs.
There’s a part of your brain that keeps screaming about how this is a bad idea, that come morning you’re going to regret this, but you do your best to ignore it as you close the door behind Jamie and press your lips to his. His hands find your waist, settling there with a firm grasp, and you hope you never need oxygen again.
It’s addicting, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, and you do your best to ignore the alarm bells ringing in your mind that you’re never going to be able to move on from this and instead just enjoy yourself. Moving on autopilot, you find yourself at your bedroom door, and feeling lightheaded you pull away from Jamie and rest your forehead on his.
“Can I?” He breathes against your mouth, fingers grasping the bottom hem of your shirt. You nod enthusiastically, your nose brushing against his. Once your shirt is flung somewhere into the depths of your room, Jamie’s hands settle on your bare ribs.
Pushing every worry you have to the back of your brain, you follow Jamie’s lead and, with his help, pull his shirt over his head as he walks you back towards your bed. Obviously, you’d known he was fit, but seeing him so close, so open to your touch is a whole other feeling. You want to trace his entire body, his scars and bruises and tattoos, first with your hands and then with your mouth.
“This is just a one time thing, yeah?” Jamie asks as your hands settle onto his jaw, trying to bring him in for another kiss.
“Yeah, of course,” you respond, being the cool girl you know you’re meant to be even as you fantasize about hearing the stories behind his tattoos and spending mornings together.
It’s practically impossible for you to keep your hands off of him, every layer removed giving you more of his skin to explore. Jamie, though, seems just as greedy as you are, kissing and touching his way across your body. You feel alive, electric in ways you’ve never felt before. It’s as if every moment you spend with Jamie, he takes up more and more space in your brain, until he’s all you can think about.
Jamie, as he bites that sensitive spot underneath your jaw bone with a grin.
Jamie, as he trails kisses down the center of your body, from your sternum to your belly button.
Jamie, as he moves lower and lower, his hands resting on your inner thighs.
Jamie, he’s all you think about until you can’t think of anything, your mind shut off and your body rewired as you feel like you’re exploding from the inside out.
And then everything comes rushing back in, all the sounds and scents and feelings of your apartment, all the thoughts you’d tried to keep away. You still haven’t said anything, focusing on breathing and not floating away.
“You need water or something?” Jamie asks from his spot on the pillow next to you, watching as your breath continues to heave in and out of your chest.
“This is my place, shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You retort once it feels as if your heart won’t escape your chest.
“There aren’t any rules about who gets water.” You watch as a smirk grows across his face, “Besides, you look like you need it more than me.”
Trying not to give in to his teasing, you hide your face in your hands and groan, “Maybe that means you should have been trying harder.” He shrugs, conceding before he slips off your bed and begins the hunt around for his clothes. You wish you could ask him to stay, even just for a few minutes longer, but instead you shrug on a large t-shirt and walk him to the door.
“See you around,” you offer as you lean in the doorway, Jamie making his way to the stairs.
“Yeah, sure, see ya.” And then you're left all alone again, your brain running wild within your skull, so you make your way back to your bed in the hopes that you can fall asleep and pretend you aren’t regretting all of your life decisions.
The next few times you see Jamie, the two of you talk sparingly, sticking mainly to waves across the room or slightly uncomfortable smiles. And it’s a shame, because you’ve found that you actually enjoy talking to Jamie, but now you’re not so certain you can handle yourself around him.
Even though you know Jamie’s not looking for a relationship, it’s hard not to think about what you’d be like together, if you’d even work out, because in your mind, what’s the point of trying if you know you’re going to fail? Why would you enter into a relationship with someone if you know it couldn’t possibly last?
“Hey,” a voice says from behind, shocking you out of your introspection. You jump, ready to scold whoever snuck up on you when you hear Jamie’s laughter, happy and loose.
“Jesus, Jamie, you scared me to death,” you tell him as his laughter dies down, eyes scanning for anyone watching your interactions. You know that no one cares, that people have casual relationships all the time, but you can’t help but feel like you’d be judged for doing the same.
“You wanna get out of here?” He asks, and you can tell from his voice, from his eyes, from the way he’s holding himself, what he’s really asking you.
“I thought that was a one time thing?” You hide your smile by taking a sip of your drink and delighting in the way Jamie’s cheeks redden.
“What I meant was, it’s just a no-strings-attached thing.”
“I’m flattered,” you tell him, already turning to leave and planning your text to Keeley that you hadn’t felt well and called an Uber to leave early.
Instead of an Uber, though, you find yourself pressed up against Jamie’s car, his hands holding your waist and his tongue down your throat. As much as you loved the attention, you pulled away, placing a gentle hand on his cheek when he tried to follow.
“Someone could see,” you whisper against him, trying to keep an ear out for anyone else leaving the small party at Colin’s house. This seems to bring Jamie back to his senses, though, because he unlocks his car and slips inside, but only after he kisses you one last time.
The drive to his place is short, leaving the two of you sitting in his driveway, no sounds but the noises filtering in through the cracked windows. There’s something about this, about him, that just feels like summer, like late sleepless nights and days spent in bed.
Even though neither of you have spoken about it, you can tell that whatever relationship you have with Jamie ends with the summer. You know this is for the best, knowing that once training and games pick up again he’ll barely have time for friends, let alone any other kind of relationship, but you hate the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. It feels like there’s an expiration date, some dark cloud looming over your sunny day, and it’s making it hard to enjoy the time you do have with Jamie.
You’d never say any of this to him, though, because you’re not even sure if you’re really friends, if this relationship you have is anything beyond physical. It’s not as though you sit around pining after Jamie Tartt all day, but you can’t help but feel left out whenever you see him with his actual friends, as if you’re missing something important about him. The two of you have a surface level connection, and you’re fine with that, you really are, it’s just hard not to get caught up in your own head.
Jamie, though, is doing his best to get rid of seemingly every thought you have, leaning over the center console to kiss you again. It’s cramped and a little awkward and you don’t have any room to move around, but you can’t stop. Eventually, the two of you break apart for long enough to stumble into Jamie’s house and then you’re being pushed backwards to his bedroom.
The realization hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever been to Jamie’s house, and you can’t help but look around his bedroom, taking in all of his choices in decorations and knick-knacks.
“That’s a pretty color,” you say absentmindedly, starting off into his room.
“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Jamie asks, pulling back from where he’d been sucking a mark onto your chest.
You can’t help but laugh, loud and unrestrained, as you run your fingers through the strands of hair hanging in Jamie’s eyes, giving them a gentle tug. Looking down after you catch your breath, you notice Jamie smiling at you and suddenly you feel too exposed, too open and you want to turn and run and never see him again but instead you use your light grip on his hair to pull him up for a kiss.
There’s a strange feeling deep in your stomach, one that you plan to ignore for as long as you can because it’s distracting you from Jamie. At first, you’d just thought it was the want filling your body, the urge to pull him impossibly close and feel him impossibly deep, but the feeling’s still there hours later as you lie boneless and sleepy.
Jamie’s off getting you some water, even though you never asked for any, and when he returns you’re dozing on his pillow, resisting the urge to snuggle under his sheets.
“You can just stay here tonight, if you want,” Jamie offers, sitting on the other side of the bed and staring off into space before quietly adding, “I wouldn’t mind.”
“Your bed is pretty comfortable,” you reply, thankful that you don’t have to get up and go searching for your clothes.
Instead, Jamie hands you the glass of water and a t-shirt, one that you gratefully slip on before getting under the covers. You fall asleep almost immediately, exhaustion spread throughout your entire body and mind, so you never know that Jamie lies awake almost the whole night, staring at the ceiling and trying not to wake you up or think about how perfect you look while asleep next to him.
When you do wake up, it’s with the sun streaming through the windows and Jamie’s arm slung over your waist. The two of you are impossibly close, both sharing the same pillow despite the size of his bed. It pains you to notice that he’s incredibly adorable when he’s sleeping. Part of you wants to kiss him all over and wake him, but the other just wants to let him sleep forever, watching as he breathes.
Luckily, you don’t need to make that choice, as Jamie’s eyes flutter open and you can see when he realizes just how close the two of you are and he tries to play it smooth but he scoots back to the side he fell asleep on.
“Did you sleep alright?” He asks, and you’re more focused on the scratchy way his voice sounds than the actual question. You just nod, hoping that was the right answer and delighting when he smiles, all soft and sweet and just for you.
You need to leave, get out while you still can before you end up spending the whole day with Jamie, because you know if you stay for a second longer you’re never going to want to leave him. Most of your time together was spent sleeping, but it's already almost impossibly hard to leave him. While you still have your resolve, you slip out of his insanely comfortable bed and go hunting for your clothes. It kills you a little inside when Jamie doesn’t stop you.
“Want me to drive you?” He asks, sitting up and moving to get out of bed and you need to stop yourself from staring at his toned chest, at the shorts low on his hips.
“No, I can just walk, it’s a nice day,” you lie, having no idea what the weather was like but hoping that summer wouldn’t let you down. Jamie nods, settles back into bed, and you could swear your heart physically aches because none of this should be happening.
You shouldn’t even be here in the first place, but here you are not wanting to leave. You shouldn’t be staring at him, with his mussed hair and his tattoos on full display. You shouldn’t have any feelings for him besides physical attraction and the basic feelings of friendship, but you’re starting to worry about that feeling in your belly that just grows and grows every second you spend with Jamie.
“See you around,” you tell him, leaving as quickly as you can before you convince yourself to stay any longer. You wander around London, all turned around and trying to find your flat without thinking of Jamie, while Jamie sits at home and tries not to think of you.
The rest of your day is spent doing meaningless activities, chores and work you’d been putting off for weeks. You wash your sheets and clean your fridge and respond to emails, trying your hardest to keep your mind off Jamie. It’s impossible, and the second you find yourself distracted, your mind wanders right back to him. What you really need is to leave your house, find someplace with blasting music and bodies pressed impossibly close, somewhere that you’ll have no space to think of anything, let alone Jamie.
Lucky for you, Keeley stays busy, always having one event or another she needs to go to and she always lets you tag along. Tonight your mission is to stop thinking of Jamie, even if that doesn’t mean going home with someone else. Just for a few hours, you don’t need him consuming your every thought.
Unfortunately for you, Jamie is always welcome with Keeley and has the same exact plan as you.
The air inside the bar is stifling, as if there’s no air conditioning and no windows, just the thick summer heat. You notice Jamie almost immediately, though it would be impossible not to with his highlights and his beaming smile, like your own personal sun. As much as you try to fight it, you can’t help but wonder if he noticed you at all, if he thinks of you at all when you’re not together.
You’re two drinks deep and you can’t help but think about Jamie, about what he thinks of you. Are you really just someone to fuck, someone who’s attractive enough for him to sleep with you whenever he feels the urge?
You’re three drinks deep and you can’t help but wonder if you could ever be anything more to him, if he’d ever want that. It’s common knowledge that Jamie’s still a little hooked on Keeley, and who could blame him, but are you really just a distraction?
You’re four drinks deep and you can’t stop crying, the tears flowing like rivers as Keeley and Rebecca try their best to comfort you, to calm you down. Eventually, Rebecca calls you a car and Keeley waits with you, ready to leave and make sure you get home safely.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise,” you say through your sobs as you sit in the backseat on your way to your apartment, Keeley rubbing up and down your arms in a soothing manner.
“This isn’t about Jamie, is it?” She asks in that kind, understanding voice of hers and it only makes you cry harder.
“I think I love him and it fucking sucks.” Keeley’s hand moves to smooth over your hair as you lean against her, all the fight draining out of your body.
“Babe, just tell him.” You can’t help but shoot her a glare, one that she brushes off with a laugh, “What’s the worst that could happen? He won’t sleep with you anymore?”
Your mouth drops open, shocked to your core that Keeley knew about what the two of you had been doing and your heart breaks a little more because you feel like you’ve just betrayed one of your best friends. Keeley, though, gives you a supportive little squeeze, one that tells you that she isn’t mad at all.
That was one of your favorite things about Keeley, how supportive she is of all of the people she loves, no matter the situation. She’s wise beyond her years and is the kind of person who will go out and get whatever she wants through her own hard work and determination. Keeley is absolutely someone you need on your side, and it hits you just how thankful you are for her and all she does for you.
Here you are, sobbing over a boy, and Keeley does nothing but support you and try to help you calm down. She doesn’t look at you like you’re over-dramatic or crazy and instead is doing her best to fix whatever was making you feel this way.
“Clearly, this whole situation-ship is hurting you, and if he doesn’t want the same things as you, maybe it’s time to let it end,” she finishes with another loving squeeze, just as the car pulls up outside of your building.
The two of you slide out of the car, Keeley offering you her hand as she helps you up to your apartment and you’re left reeling by what she’s said. You didn’t even know you wanted something more until it hit you like a ton of bricks tonight, Jamie consuming your thoughts in all the wrong ways. You know Keeley’s right, that whatever you have going on is only going to hurt you in the long run, so you resolve to tell him everything the next time you see him.
Keeley’s wise words from the car and the glass of water she gave you before she left after confirming no less than ten times that you were okay have you sobering up rather quickly. You’re left feeling embarrassed and exhausted to the bone, wanting nothing more than to lay down in your bed and stay there for the next hundred years, but suddenly there’s a knock at your door and Jamie’s standing outside.
“Keeley let me in, hope that’s ok,” he tells you, seeming slightly uncomfortable and you briefly wonder if it’s because of your puffy eyes and slightly disheveled appearance, embarrassment coursing hot through your blood. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”
Jamie always keeps you on your toes, and though you know this isn’t a big deal, it warms your heart all the same. Jamie Tartt, drama queen footballer and prick reality star, is at your front door to see if you’re ok because you left a bar crying. You’d promised yourself that the next time you saw Jamie, you’d sit him down and talk about your feelings, vowing that you wouldn’t hide them anymore.
But here Jamie is, being all sweet and concerned, and that plan goes out the window. There’s just something about him that makes all the sense leave your body, so instead of having a conversation about your feelings you pull him down by his shoulders and kiss him.
It’s messy and desperate, and even though you’ve sobered up since leaving the bar, your head is spinning and your thoughts are starting to become consumed with Jamie. There’s a weight behind it this time, one that you’re sure the both of you are aware of, because Jamie’s hands are gripping your waist with a bruising force and you barely even pull away from him to breathe.
Both of you know something is going to change.
As you make your way to your bedroom, clothing is thrown down the hallway, a sock here and a shoe there, until you almost trip trying to remove your pants. Luckily for you, though, after what seemed like a miles long walk, you finally reached your bedroom door.
Jamie pushes you gently inside, breaking the kiss but staying close enough to breathe the same air, and he keeps pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fall onto it with a sound of surprise. Jamie just smiles, but it’s soft in a way that makes your insides melt and not the cocky smile he has whenever he scores a goal.
You scramble to sit up, to take your shirt off, but your brain shuts off when you see Jamie get on his knees in front of you. More gently than you ever could have imagined, he tugs on the hem of your pants, bringing them down your hips until you need to push off of the bed to get them down the rest of the way. He continues to pull until they slip free of your feet, and by the time he’s standing again you’re throwing yourself upward to kiss him.
There’s just something about him that makes you want to be near him all the time, like a moth to the flame. It doesn’t feel self destructive though, and that’s what scares you. It scares you that you might be hurting yourself without knowing but it scares you more that this might not hurt you at all.
It’s always a little shocking to you just how gentle Jamie is, the soft way he cradles your jaw when he kisses you and the way he runs his hands up and down your back when he can tell everything is starting to get overwhelming. Of course, he can be plenty rough and you have the bite marks on your thighs and the hickeys on your chest to prove it, but it seems like it’s in his nature to be soft with you.
“You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, fingers playing gentling with the hem of your shirt.
“100%,” you reply, and give him a quick kiss to reaffirm your statement. Now, he wastes no time in pulling off your shirt and starting to remove his own clothes. It makes you pause, standing there by the foot of your bed in the process of removing your bra, because suddenly he’s shirtless and it never gets any less surprising despite the many times you’ve been in this situation.
It’s not like your being subtle in your ogling, and Jamie just smirks when he sees you staring. He pushes you back onto the bed, softer this time, and you scoot yourself backwards until your head is resting on the pillows. Jamie joins you, pushing your legs open wider so there's room for him to lay in between them.
Then, you’re almost certain you’ve died and gone to heaven because he’s slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugging them over your hips and down your thighs. You’re absolutely no help, lying there pliant for him to maneuver however he sees fit because you’re fully convinced your brain has stopped working.
It’s a little startling, how well Jamie knows your body. He always knows the right pressure and movement and location to make you see stars, make your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drop open. You’d think that he’d be all bark and no bite, but it’s so clear to you now that he has the skills to back up his attitude.
You have the bite marks to prove it.
Your fingers are itching for something to grab onto, something more substantial than grasping at your bedsheets, so you gently twist Jamie’s hair around your fingers, just enough to ground you, to keep you anchored to your body when you feel like you’re seconds from floating away.
It feels too good, too overwhelming, you’re unable to control any of the sounds that come out of your mouth. Jamie’s hands are gripping, digging into the flesh of your thighs and it stings where his fingernails dig in but it’s so perfect you can’t help the way you whine.
The connection between your brain and your mouth must be severed because you keep babbling away about how good, how perfect everything feels. You’re not thinking at all, only able to focus on the feelings building deep in your belly until Jamie licks at your clit with the perfect amount of pressure and you just fucking lose it. Your mouth drops open and you’re completely unaware of the sounds that come pouring out of your mouth until, “I fucking love you.”
It’s like you’ve been doused in a bucket of ice water and Jamie’s pulling away and you’re fucking terrified and the pleasure that’s been building inside your body is completely replaced with dread. After you feel Jamie pulling back, you turn your gaze from the ceiling down to between your legs where Jamie still lies.
He just grins, looking like sin himself with your slick making his mouth all shiny and glossy. And then he gets right back to work, nipping at your inner thigh before doubling down his attention, working twice as hard and you don’t even remember what you’ve said because you’re thrown headfirst back into the intensity of Jamie’s full skill and attention.
It’s only seconds later when you’re almost certain that you’ve died, feeling like an exploding star as your back arches off the bed and you dig your fingers harder into Jamie’s hair and your mouth falls open again. When you regain your sense of existence, your body feels tingly all over as if the remnants of your orgasm are still coursing through your veins.
Breathing hard, you look down to see Jamie resting his head on one of your thighs, just waiting for you to come down from your high. He places a kiss over one of the marks he made on your inner thigh before he crawls up the bed to plant a soft kiss on your lips.
He disappears after that, and you’re a little worried that he’s left you like this before he comes back a few minutes later, with a glass of water and a plate of snacks. The thought of him trifling through your cupboard makes your heart stutter a little and you’re so overwhelmed with feelings that you can only manage to give him a small smile in thanks.
The two of you sit quietly side by side on your bed, eating the snacks Jamie had brought. He checks in on you again and again, making sure you’re totally comfortable. And then, he clears his throat and shifts around, looking uncomfortable and you can feel your heart rising into your throat, dread gripping at your stomach.
“Are we gonna talk about what you said?” He asks, tracing shapes on the bare skin of your knee as he talks and looks anywhere but your face.
“I think I meant it,” you tell him, feeling as if your whole world is crashing down around you. There are other important things in your life, work and friends and family, but there’s something about Jamie that even after the limited time you’ve had together, the thought of losing him makes you sick to your stomach.
“Good, that’s good to know.” He goes quiet for a moment but his fingers never still in their drawing, “I think so too.”
“Good,” you tell him with a smile, one that he returns and it makes you want to cry because he’s so gorgeous and wonderful and you won’t be losing him after all, there’s a hope for you, a future, and that’s all you need.
You know nothing is certain and there are plenty of things that could go wrong, but you try to bask in the afterglow of what’s been confessed the same way you’d lay in the sunshine. You feel warm and happy and you’re determined to hang onto those feelings, to enjoy the time you spend with Jamie instead of worrying that everything will come crashing down.
There’s just something about him, something that makes your worrying come to a pause whenever you’re with him. He brings you an unexpected sort of peace, one that you vow to enjoy now that you’re not worrying when it will disappear, when he’ll disappear. For once, that feeling in your chest isn’t one of anxiety but one that you’re convinced is love.
You love Jamie Tartt, and that thought isn’t as scary as it once was.
Tags: @andr0medafallen @pazvizslasprincess @scaramou @parcelofbread @lightninginab0ttle @curlypeter @maggiecc @percysaidnever
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illiterateaffairs · 11 months
Text
DISTRACTIONS PROLOGUE | THE EXIT
pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)
rating: T (language)
word count: 4,806
summary: after breaking up with your long time boyfriend, you realize how much of your life was tied to his. if only you knew someone with a cool job and even cooler boss across the pond who could help you out. 
A/N: hello! here is the first official part of my jamie tartt series. although i should warn you that jamie is not in this part :( this was mainly to cover the back story in order to get the reader to london. but i promise he will be in the next part. please please please let me know what you think! would love any comments and feedback <3
distractions masterlist 
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“I think that’s everything.”
You’re shaken from your trance by the sound of his voice for the first time in 30 minutes. You’ve been pretending to watch an old episode of Grey’s Anatomy but really you’ve been staring at the wall just above the TV, wondering how you got to this point.
This point being you sitting idly by as your ex-boyfriend gathers the last of his things from your once shared apartment. Normally you’d make yourself scarce when he’d come by to move things out but he popped over unexpectedly after work for a few last things he’d left behind. You’re wondering if he did that on purpose to torture you for a little while longer. 
But why would he do that? He was nice enough to let you keep the apartment. Only after you found him tangled up with some red-headed woman on top of your couch when you’d come home during your lunch break a few weeks prior. You graciously accepted keeping the apartment - but you insisted he take that godforsaken couch. 
Picking at the worn fabric of your lone arm chair, you don’t meet his eyes. “Okay, great.” 
“So, I guess this is it then,” he sighs, looking around the apartment almost wistfully, “The end of an era.”
You look up at him with narrowed eyes. He was making your almost three year relationship that he imploded sound like something casual. Like he didn’t completely break your heart and prove those years a waste. 
“Yup.” You shake your head and force yourself up from your seat, walking to the front door so he’ll hopefully get the hint to make his way out of your apartment and out of your life once and for all. You open the door as he meanders over, as slow as humanly possible.
Once he’s in front of you, he lingers in the doorway. You wish you were stronger than you were, but you’re not, his gaze forcing you to look down at the hardwood beneath your feet. He rests his hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch. “It was really great seeing you. I hope…I hope one day we can be friends again.”
You fight the urge to projectile vomit on him and plaster the fakest smile you can muster. “Goodbye, Mason.” 
You can tell he’s about to say something else but you’re already slamming the door in his face. You think being free from his presence will immediately restore your sanity, but your stomach feels even queasier. It must be reality sinking in. You guess Mason was right - it was the end of an era. You had no idea what the hell you were supposed to do now. 
You’ve been living in Chicago ever since you graduated college at Brown University. That’s where you’d met Mason. He’d fallen first and once he’d convinced you to go out with him at the start of your senior year, you’d fallen harder. He was a computer science major, while you were studying creative writing, with hopes of becoming an author one day. Your plan was to work at a publishing house or literary agency in New York city while you wrote anything and everything on the side. But after graduation, Mason had an offer at an emerging tech company in Chicago that he couldn’t pass up. So he begged you to follow him there; said you could write from anywhere. He even knew someone at a marketing agency in the city that could get you a job as a copywriter. You’d explained that was a little different than the writing you hoped to pursue, but he told you it would be temporary- just something to help pay the bills while you got settled. 
He was persuasive. Very persuasive. And next thing you knew, the two of you were shacking up in a studio apartment in downtown Chicago, with a view of the river and a short commute to work where you wrote copy for cereal brands and clothing companies. Not exactly the dream, but somewhere along the way you found comfort in the idea that he was your dream. He’d swept you off your feet with words of affirmation and lavish gifts as his company started growing more successful. But after a year and a half, the novelty started wearing off. You realized all of your friends were his friends, you shopped where he shopped, you lived and worked where he wanted you to, and you had so little sense of self. You only came to this conclusion when on a rare night out with coworkers, they’d asked you where you went to school. 
“I got a bachelors in creative writing from Brown.” 
“Then what the hell are you doing at a marketing agency?” Kara, a bubbly advertising strategist you could only hope to be as confident as, had inquired.
You shrugged, “Just something to pay the bills so I can write on the side.” 
Her eyes widened excitedly, “Ooh, what’s something you’ve written recently?”
You had opened your mouth to answer before realizing you hadn’t written anything in a while. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you wrote something that wasn’t an Instagram caption for Cheerios. 
When you got home that night, you brought that up to Mason, but he didn’t think it was a big deal. He’d only shrugged and said that you made an honest living doing what you did now. Why did it matter that it wasn’t what you’d originally set out to do? 
You’d only nodded and let the topic go for the night. But the more you thought about it, the more the whole thing bothered you. You liked your job. But you didn’t love your job. 
Still, you didn’t do anything about it. You went through the motions of your job and your relationship, spending time with Mason at his work events and with his tech buddies and their significant others. But as more time went on, you only felt more and more lost. You tried not to let it get to you. You were young. You had plenty of time to figure things out: who you were, who you wanted to spend time with, what you wanted to do. You were at least still sure that you loved him, though. 
You only started to question that a few months before your untimely breakup. You’d finally gotten the courage to consider a career change. You’d been thinking about leaving the marketing agency to look for a literary job- a publishing house, or even a book store- anywhere they would take you. When you brought the idea up over dinner with Mason, he’d scoffed. Why would you want to leave your well paying job for one that could potentially be minimum wage? He’d asked why you couldn’t just write after work or during the weekends while you kept making a salary at your current job. You tried explaining it was because you weren’t happy there - that it sucked the life out of you and you wanted to work somewhere that inspired you everyday. But he just rolled his eyes and told you to try giving your job another chance; that maybe a vacation would clear your head and reinspire you.
You looked at him differently after that - like he was a different person. Now you’re able to see it was a wakeup call to who he’d always been, but at the time you were in denial. Instead of facing the issues popping up in your relationship head on, you’d push them away or avoid them. You’d started spending more time at your office or with the few coworkers you started considering friends. On some evenings, you’d even manage to write a few paragraphs of fiction- they were nothing of substance, but they were something. 
This went on for a few months. Long enough that you’d successfully convinced yourself that everything was normal even if your once all-consuming relationship was hanging by a thread. Until one day you came home to grab the lunch you’d forgotten during the workday to find Mason kissing someone else. He’d somehow managed to twist the blame on you during the argument that broke out once the woman had left the two of you alone. He said it was because he’d felt you pulling away and that he was lonely. And for a moment, you felt yourself believing that you were in fact the bad guy for not being honest with how you were feeling. You shook those intrusive thoughts away, refusing to let him manipulate you one last time before declaring that you two were done. 
That was weeks ago now, and while you were still confident in the decision to part ways, you were less confident on what you were to do now. Your lease was up at the end of the month, and if you wanted to stay you’d need to find someone to split rent with. Your odds of that were slim. A) you’d have to wrangle someone in the next two weeks and B) Everyone you knew was either Mason’s friend first or Kara who had just moved in with her longtime girlfriend. And God help you if you were going to live with a stranger. 
And then there was the whole job thing. You still weren’t thrilled with working there despite you holding out for Mason’s sake. He was no longer around to guilt trip you into staying, but now you had no idea where to go, especially without a sure place to live. 
You’re beginning to spiral as these thoughts race through your mind. You can barely even decide what to eat for dinner let alone what to do with the rest of your life. On that note, you force yourself to throw a frozen pizza in the oven and push all thoughts of impending doom to the side as you sink back into the world of Seattle Grace Memorial. The lives and problems of Meredith Grey and her fellow doctors were decidedly less stressful than what you were dealing with. And that was saying something. 
You’ve nearly fully disassociated from everything, when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You’re perturbed when it doesn’t stop after one vibration, anxious at the thought of answering a call right now. But all anxiety melts away when you see the mustachioed face on the caller ID smiling back at you. You smash the green answer button faster than you’ve done in your entire life. 
“Uncle Ted,” you breathe out in relief. 
“Hey-o Kiddo,” the warm voice of Ted Lasso instantly soothes you, “Have I told you how much I appreciate you still calling me that?”
“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you smile even though he can’t see you, “But you know I’ve never considered stopping.”
Ted was your uncle, by ways of marrying your biological aunt Michelle. Her brother, Joseph, and his husband, Ryan, adopted you when you were five. Dad and Pops, as you affectionately called them. As soon as Ted Lasso entered your life, he was like a third father. When he went off to England to coach a soccer- football- team and eventually separated from Michelle, you were devastated. You had no idea they were having problems. You could blame it on the fact that you’d scarcely seen your family since living in Chicago with Mason, and that he’d commandeered holidays and vacation time to spend with his family and friends. But you knew you could have worked harder to be a part of their lives. Especially now that Henry was growing up so quickly - or so you’d seen on social media. 
Even then, you reached out to make sure he knew he was still your favorite uncle. “I was your only uncle, Kiddo.” “And you still are.” 
He doesn’t think you understand the weight that that sentiment held. And now, you know he doesn’t realize how pertinent it is that he’s reached out to you tonight. 
“What time is it there?” you ask, “Isn’t it like midnight? You should be asleep, big important Premier League coach that you are. Did I get that right?” 
You hear him chuckle, “I’m impressed. Wasn’t sure you’d watch much of football over there.” 
“Of course! I have to support your team. Besides, Mason was obsessed with anything that has a ball involved so you know he was all over it.” That last part came out before you could even process what you were saying. You know Ted can hear the hitch in your breath when your brain catches up with your mouth. 
“That’s actually why I called, Kiddo,” Ted says softly, “Joe told me about your breakup.”
Despite yourself, you feel your lips quirk up in almost a smile, “I didn’t know you two still spoke.”
“Yeah, sure. We chat on Facebook from time to time. Give each other a like, a share. A poke? Do people still poke nowadays?” 
“I think HR told Mark Zuckerberg to eliminate that feature.”
“Makes sense,” he snorts, “Can I take the fact that you’ve still got your signature sense of humor as a sign that you’re handling everything okay?”
You feel the urge to say that you’re fine - that everything is great. But for some reason the idea of lying to Ted makes you feel even worse. Before you can stop it, you feel tears start to pool behind your eyes. In an effort to try to prevent yourself from full on crying, you end up just producing the most heinous, choked up sound. You manage a scratchy, whispered, “No I’m not.” before you start sobbing into the phone. 
You’re surprised when Ted doesn’t immediately start trying to cheer you up with jokes or something positive to focus on in effort to stop your crying. Instead, he lets you get everything out, all the while reminding you that it's okay to be upset. 
“But God, it's so pathetic. I shouldn’t be this upset, he’s just a stupid guy!”
“It's not just a guy; you built a life with him. It’s a lot to mourn.” he says reassuringly.
“But it's not even a good life! I hate my job and I have to find a new apartment and I don’t have any friends to vent to. I don’t know what I’m doing!” you know your words must hardly sound coherent but Ted seems to get it. 
“Michelle mentioned she’d heard you were considering making the jump back to writing? Do you still want to do that?”
“Yes, ideally, but I don’t know if I'd be able to immediately get a job and certainly not one that would afford me my rent. And I have a good paying job now but I honestly think if I stay there much longer I’ll lose my goddamn mind.” 
You don’t mean to put all of this on him, but in a way it's cathartic. You hadn’t said most of this out loud to anyone. 
“I just wish I could run away to the countryside, turn my brain off for a few months and not have any responsibilities while I figure things out.” You huff out as your sobs begin to slow.
Ted hums softly, “Now wouldn’t that be something. Where would you go?”
As your breathing finds its way back to normal, you consider. After a beat, “Iceland.” 
Ted can’t help but snort, “I hear it's lovely there this time of year.” 
You laugh a little but resign yourself back to the situation at hand, “What do I do, Ted?”
“I don’t know, Kiddo. But I know you’re going to be okay. You always are. You were okay in 8th grade when that volleyball smacked you right in the face and you cut your lip, and you’ll be okay now." He's proud when he hears you laugh again, “Maybe you should take some time to yourself. Play hooky tomorrow and sleep in.” 
“I can’t just not go to work,” you sigh, “I’ll have to fake being sick and forge a doctor's note.”
“That-a-girl.”
“But seriously thank you, Uncle Ted. I think I really needed to get that out. And you’re always a great listener.” 
“You know you can call me anytime.”
“Preferably not when it's nearly 1AM over there though right?”
“Yeah, I guess I should be getting some rest myself. Sleep tight, Kiddo.” 
“Good night, Ted.” 
Despite the sob fest you just went through, you feel yourself smiling after hanging up. It was usually hard not to be in a better mood after talking to Ted Lasso. And you know what? You were going to play hooky tomorrow. What were they going to do? Fire you? You wish.
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Across the pond, Ted spent the better part of the rest of his night and next morning thinking about how you wished you could escape life for a little bit to figure things out. This leads him to begin plotting an idea that may or not work out, or even make sense. Nevertheless, he’s walking into Rebecca’s office with a plan in place. 
“Afternoon, Boss,” he greets her as he sets the pale pink biscuit box on her desk in front of her, which she eagerly opens, “Hope those biscuits taste especially good today. I made them extra special.” 
Rebecca raises an eyebrow, already halfway through one biscuit. “Should I ask why?” 
“Just figure the better the biscuits, the happier the boss, isn’t that the saying?” Before Rebecca can chastise him further for his suspicious attitude, he’s barreling on, “Say, you haven’t found someone to be Keeley’s replacement yet, have you? Not as another PR person; I know Keeley’s company has that covered. But as another set of hands around here, or fingers rather, to post tweets or Instagrams? Or even just to assist you with whatever you’ve got going on around the office?”
Rebecca sighs, resigning to the fact that he’s going to need to finish his thought and tire himself out. Once he seems to reach a natural stopping point, she inserts herself.
“Ted,” his eyebrows raise innocently, “Let me guess, you have someone in mind?”
“Yes,” he nods point-blankly. 
“And who might that be?”
“My niece,” before Rebecca can even open her mouth, he continues, “I know, I know you can’t hire just anyone, but she’s incredible. She’s a hard worker, she’s super nice, and she’s also going through some stuff right now and I think a fresh start would be good for her.” 
Rebecca takes the information in, but isn’t immediately opposed. “And she wants to move halfway across the world to work for a football club?” 
Ted sits up, taking her interest as a good sign. “That’s a great question, let's ask her!”
Before Rebecca could even process what he meant by that, Ted is whipping out his iPhone and facetiming you. 
“Ted, you haven’t even asked her if she wants the job?” she whispers sternly.
“Uh- uh,” he shakes his head before your face pops up on his screen, “Good morning, Kiddo! Shoot, did I wake you? I forgot about the time difference.”
You’re attempting to sit up in your bed all the while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, “Nope, all good, it’s almost 8 here, but you’re the one who told me to skip out on work today and sleep in.” 
“That’s true, I did tell you to do that,” Ted glances up from his phone to lock eyes with Rebecca, “So that’s on me and in no way should reflect her work ethic.” He holds up his right hand and Rebecca chuckles, shaking her head. 
Your eyes narrow, “Uncle Ted, what's going on?”
“Well, I was just sitting with my boss Rebecca over here when we realized Rebecca has been in the market for a new assistant-slash-social media person and I thought of you!” 
You blink at him for a few seconds and then, “What?”
“Yeah, I mean, I was thinking about what you said last night about wanting some time to figure things out. With this, you can quit that job you hate, try something new and have time to write. And while England might not be Iceland, I’d say it still offers a pretty great change of scenery.”
You bite your thumb and find yourself surprised that you’re actually considering this - as crazy and out of the blue as it is. It's appealing. A new town, country- no, continent. An opportunity to leave your dead end job while also still making a livable wage. Time to clear your head and potentially fall back in love with writing. And most importantly, never having to see Mason’s face again. 
“This is serious?” you ask, “Is there actually a job opening there or are you just making your boss do this for me.” 
“Of course! I wouldn’t make this up and Rebecca is a very serious person.”
“Wouldn’t I have to interview?” 
Ted looks up again at Rebecca who looks just as caught off guard. “Of course you’d interview. In fact you can do it right now, over Facetime. Isn’t technology incredible?”
You can hear Rebecca whispering protests, as you call out your own hesitancy, but before you know it, Ted’s face is being replaced by an overwhelmingly gorgeous blonde woman’s. Ted makes introductions, and while you can tell Rebecca isn’t in this situation willingly, she smiles kindly which manages to relax you a bit. 
“It's nice to meet you, Ms. Welton. I’m such a fan of yours.” you tell her kindly.
She blushes, “That's sweet of you to say, but please call me Rebecca. Ted’s told me great things about you as well.” 
You smile back, before narrowing your eyes at Ted, who is peaking at the phone over Rebecca’s shoulder. “Does Ted have to be here for this?” 
Rebecca turns to face the football manager, and nods toward her office door. “Mind giving us the room?”
Ted straightens up, “Of course. I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He starts towards the door before shouting back, “I believe in you.”
“I know you do,” You call back, shaking your head humorously. 
Rebecca mirrors your expression, “It's fun to see someone else dealing with his antics.”
You give her an apologetic look, “I’m sorry if he put you up to this, you really don’t have to give me a job. I don’t know what he’s told you but I promise I can cope.” 
The blonde woman can’t help being curious as to what you mean by that, but she doesn’t pry. “The only thing he��s told me is what an exceptional worker and person you are. I can’t imagine you’d be anything but an asset to the club.
“Still, you can’t just hand me the job.”
“Why not?” Rebecca smirks, “Men give other men jobs all the time.”
You snort, “Sure, but I like earning my place.”
Rebecca admires this, “Fair enough. Alright then, why don’t you tell me where you went to school?”
“Brown University.”
“And what did you study?”
“Creative writing.”
“Oh, so why would you want to work here?”
You sigh, but can’t help being amused by her confusion, “Well, right now I’m a copywriter at a marketing agency.”
“You got a degree in creative writing to write advertisements?”
“Well no. I wanted- want to be an author someday, but needed something to get me by while I actually started writing. My boyfriend, sorry, ex-boyfriend, suggested the job when we moved to Chicago together.” 
Rebecca hums at your fumble, “Am I right to guess that this ex of yours might have a little to do with this big life change?” 
You take a deep breath, “Yes, and no. Sure, I’d love to not live in a city where I could run into him. But I also want a change for myself, so I can figure out who I am without him and what I actually want out of life.” 
Rebecca smiles, almost proudly, “That’s great.”
You let out a laugh, “And all it took was him cheating on me to finally get out of my own head.”
Rebecca’s eyes widen, “He cheated on you?”
“Oh shit,” you groan, rubbing your forehead, “I haven’t had my morning coffee and don’t know how to censor myself yet.”
“What a wanker!”
“I am inclined to agree with you, even though I do not know what that means,” you sigh, pausing for a second, “Rebecca I know we just met but can you…not tell Ted that? I actually haven’t told anyone why we broke up. I really don’t want an extra layer of pity.” 
The older woman nods, “Of course. I won’t say a word.”
Despite having only spoken upwards of three minutes, you feel like you can trust her with your life. “Thank you. Do you have any more questions for me?”
“Yes,” Rebecca nods, “When can you start?”
Your eyes turn into saucers, “Rebecca, I told you I want to earn this job!”
“Well in my eyes you have,” she insists, “I know that you’re a good worker and literate, that's important. You’ve got a sense of humor; that’ll get you far with everyone. And I like that you’re taking charge of your life. It feels like you’ll be a good fit here.” That brings a smile to your face. A good fit. You wonder what that feels like. “Besides, you’re related to Ted. If that doesn't tell me what kind of person you are, I don’t know what does.”
You snort, “Technically, Ted and I aren’t blood related.”
Rebecca shrugs, “Either way, you’ve got that Lasso spirit.”
While the compliment warms your heart, it also brings another pool of anxiety into the pit of your stomach. “Rebecca, I have another request before I can accept this job, but it’s for Ted, too.”
Rebecca nods curtly, before calling out a loud, “Teeeeed.” that makes you jump slightly. 
Ted pokes his head back in the doorway, “How's it going?” he sing-songs.
“Your niece has a demand before she will take the job.” She winks at you, which alleviates only some of the nerves. 
Ted jogs back to his spot behind Rebecca and leans closer to his phone screen, “What's up, buttercup?”
You take a deep breath, “If I were to come there,” Ted’s eyes light up, “If,” You emphasize, “I need you both- and Beard I guess-”
“Oh, Beard’s gonna be so excited.”
“I need you three to promise me,” you say flatly, “That you won’t tell anyone that I’m Ted’s niece.”
Ted frowns, “Why not? I know it's hard to believe, but I'm actually one of the popular kids around here.” 
You roll your eyes in jest, “It's not because I'm embarrassed, I just…don’t want anyone to think I only got the job because of you.”
Rebecca gives you a look, “I told you you’ve already proven you deserve this job.” 
“I know, but nepotism is one of the most cancelable offenses these days,” You argue, “And Rebecca, you get it. In a club full of men, I don’t want to be known as the girl who got a job because I’m related to the coach. Despite what you said about men doing the same thing, you know they look down at women for that.”
“She’s not wrong,” Rebecca says, glancing over at Ted, “But if it helps, none of our boys on the team would treat you like that.”
You shrug, “Either way, I’d just prefer to show up, work hard, and prove my place.” 
A smile starts growing back on Ted’s face, “So are you saying you’ll do it?”
You bite your lip but can’t help but start smiling yourself, “I think so?” 
Ted claps and starts doing a celebratory dance. And while you and Rebecca can’t help but laugh, she still demands a formal acceptance. “I’m going to need a more confident answer.”
You smother the smile and put on a business-formal face, “I graciously accept your offer.” 
You two share a smile and you’re already looking forward to spending more time with the woman. Ted grabs the phone from his boss and starts cheering you on, “Heck yes, now you get to put in that 2-weeks notice, baby!”
You quietly cheer along with him, trying to process Rebecca’s words at the same time as she lets you know she’ll email you your contract and begin getting you set up with a visa and housing. “Wait, I get free housing?” You don’t let yourself linger on the absurdity of the situation. For the first time in probably your whole life, you are doing something you want to do. Nevermind that it's a huge leap and maybe not what you foresaw for yourself in this next era of your life. It was the perfect opportunity to get to know yourself again and you could figure out everything else later. 
In the wise words of Joey Tribbiani: London, baby!
A/N: Please let me know what you think <3
1K notes · View notes
ktchie · 5 months
Text
'Save a horse ride a cowboy'
Ted x reader
Fluff and smut
♡additional tags: smut, p in v, creampie, reader hates Halloween, Ted in a cowboy costume, a little daddy kink, She/her pronouns.
♤7.4k words
◇ she hates Halloween but maybe Ted can change that?
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Her dreaded day is fast approaching, the leaves scattered around the ground - brown and dry from the autumn.
A lone pumpkin, yellow and bright under the shying sun, glare at her from a stairwell of a random flat. Its triangle eyes, hollow from any emotion and sympathy seemingly bore into her as if telling her to submit to its command and the inevitable event that will happen 2 days from now.
She averted her eyes quickly, sweat dripped down her nape as she fasten her pace.
She hated Halloween more than any day there is, she would rather choose her family's dysfunctional Christmas dinner with 5 grown adults yelling at eachother and 3 crying children than be caught dead wearing a ridiculous costume that would tarnish her reputation and self image.
Contrary to Roy, she doesnt hate Halloween because of the loud children and their questionable attire that varies from appropriate character from a cartoon show or a superhero franchise and to some wierd and super inappropriate costume that would and will get a atleast 50 concern side eyes (like a nun smoking a tobacco or pope Francis with devil horns and blood pouring out of his mouth)
She hated Halloween because of her coworkers (mainly Rebecca, keeley and Higgins) and their insistent for her to wear a bloody costumes every damn year. Rebecca would email her and would ask her what she will be going as on the Halloween, the first few times it would only be an additional note, a passing normal interest at the month of October but as the day goes by and the 3rd week rolls around Rebecca's previous important email that is relevant to the well being of the club was replaced by a 5 to 10 sentence regarding the importance of Halloween and how essential it is, to both to yourself and to others, to wear a costume and to have fun. The email will come to her 2 times in one day, sometimes even 3 and in worst times even 5 (if Rebecca is really desperate or in a sour mood) which will automatically go into her spam folder.
And it is also widely known on Richmond that Keeley Jones goes a little unhinged whenever the month of October rolls by. Her energy seems to crank up to its highest peak when the autumn breeze finally grace her skin. So naturally, Halloween would be a BIG BIG deal for her. Massive deal. A deal the size of Asia and Europe combined. A deal that she, unfortunately, has to deal with too.
Keeley Jones, despite of having a own company of her to run, was quiet frequent on the Afc Richmond building. Always lurking on the hallway with her bright pink shoes and heart melting grin (in the normal month) however, when its October - Keleey's only destination is her own fucking office. She would burst in guns blazing and teeth bared with no knocking whatsoever and ask her (more like yelled at her) what her costume will be on Halloween, in which she would proceed to answer with 'none' which in return would make Keeley Jones fumed with anger and rant about her being no fun while calling her all kinds of creative names under the sun.
The two women was both amusing and irritating at the same time, she had to admit that their desperation to get her to celebrate the nonsense Holliday of the 31st of October was quiet funny in their own way. What is not funny however is Higgins..
Leslie Higgins, a man as gentle as a falling feather and whose laugh could light up the entire room, can actually turn into a 10feet tall demonic entity whenever he heard 'Halloween' and 'no costume' in one sentence. Maybe it has something to do with him being a father of 5 children, getting so used to dressing them up that it was downright ridiculous and criminal that she wouldn't. He would breath heavily like a bull whenever she say no and he would look at her in the eye and speak to her, though very calmly she could very well see the veins throbbing on his forehead, and would explain how important it is for her to dress up and to celebrate the day because if he wouldn't he would no longer talk to her and would rather die than be near her ever again (dramatic, but something tells her he wasn't lying)
So, in a desperate attempt to make him leave and calm down she had agreed, she told Leslie she's going to dress up and that he doesn't have to worry about anything else.
She's still deciding if she's lying or not.
She opened her front door with a sigh, the exhaustion visible on her tired eyes.
She had gone home more later than everyone else because of the heavy work load that she had let pile up over the last few weeks due to her avoidance to go to work and accidently bump into the monster trio.
She sat down on her couch before throwing her shoes somewhere in the room, groaning in pleasure as her back met the soft cushion.
The comfort of her own home enveloping her suddenly, all the tension gone from her shoulder and all the worrying thoughts of her work vanish from her head.
Then her phone rang,
"Goddammit.." she mumbled with a frown, head thrown back and eyes closed. She let it rung for a few second before reaching for it.
"Hello?" Her voice was groggy, a clear indication she was tired.
"Yellow!" Ted's voice were loud on the other side of the phone, awfully cheery despite it being late in the evening. "You takin' a nap? You sounds a lil' raspy, oh no I didnt wake ya up did i?"
A soft smile made its way on her lips, a smile only Ted could make. "Uh no, I was about to though. I just got back from work"
"You just got back?! Don't office hours end at 5?!"
"Got alot of work that held me back, I don't want to let it keep piling up on my desk like a leaning tower of Pisa"
"Darn, you must have a heck of a day" she hummed in confirmation before closing her eyes again. "Have you even had lunch yet? Ya didnt came in the locker room earlier, thought ya had lunch on your own but now I have a suspicion that you didnt eat at all"
She took her time to answer, Ted's voice bringing her comfort and making her a little drowsy. "Didnt eat lunch, im planning to order a pizza later for dinner"
"You sounds really tired, darlin' and listen, I know I ain't exactly the proper man to tell ya this but pizza ain't good for ya" Ted had replied, a hint of worry on his voice. "Pizza is a-okay once a week, but you been eatin' it nonstop these days, im gettin' a lil worried"
"Im not going to suddenly drop dead because of pizza, that will be a humiliating way to go out" she replied with a sigh, scratching her eye. "But sure whatever, ill have a cup of tea instead"
"I still can't believe y'all drink that sewer water willingly, you better eat something good with that garbage drink"
"I don't know what else to eat beside pizza if I'm being honest and I'm too fucking tired to cook anything else" she groaned and adjust herself on the coach. "I'll just have a big breakfast tomorrow"
"Are you tellin' me that tea is only thing you'll be having tonight?" he had stated, putting a harsh emphasis on the word 'tea' as if it was someone he wanted to kill.
"Am I hearin' you right, hun? Not only did you not eat lunch but you are willingly, without a gun to your pretty little head, going to drink that poop water and nothin' else?"
She laugh lightly and she desperately try to ignore the sick sick part of her brain that is telling her she looks like a giggling love sick school girl talking to her crush. "Yes Ted, im going to drink tea and only tea and head to bed. If you and a perfectly fine beverage have some beef going on, leave me out of it. I can't let you persuade me on hating our national drink and risk the Queen catching a whiff of my traitorous blood and shoot me in the head"
"She would do that?" Ted asked, genuinely afraid.
She chuckled "no, Ted. I'm fucking with you" she settled deep on the cushions, fully laying herself down.
"She'll hire a few men to raid my house and make my death look like a suicide"
"Oh well thats smart, but I prefer if you're alive and well"
She laugh a little "do you need something, Ted? Its quiet late, shouldn't you be watching some trashy reality show right now?"
"Oh it can wait, I can have coach beard summarize the love island for me tomorrow" he cheerily replied and some part of her are envious of him being so happy in such a tiring night. "I called ya because I wanna know what you'll be wearin' on Halloween night"
A glass shattered on the background and the small smile plastered on her lips fell as quickly as she can blink.
"Jesus christ, not you too" she groaned lowly, eyes closing not in exhaustion but in irritation.
"What? Just askin' cause im gosh darn curious! I asked boss what you'll be goin' as but she pulled a funny face and told me to ask you myself!"
She cursed Rebecca in her brain.
"What brought this on anyway?" She wiped her face with her hand with a sighed.
"Oh well our resident genius Nathan Shelby told me that Rebecca host the best Halloween party every year and it got me all kinds of exicted! 'Been awhile since I went to one of those, in college I always go to parties y'know? Even nonsense ones, I mostly went for the booze and the free food cause I was hella broke and I ain't got no money to even feed myself" Ted voice went down a little at the end, as if reminiscing the time where he couldn't even find a single nickle on his wallet. "So it got me thinkin' that I should really go all out this year, don't ya think so? My first party ever since I turned 30, I don't even know If I can still chug an entire jug of beer but we'll see"
"Jesus Ted, you sounds like frat boy" she grimaced lightly but a pleasant image of Ted wearing a backwards cup and a stupid grin on his baby face got her all giggly.
Maybe he'll let her do a body shot on him, lick the fucking salt on his neck and take him home to her flat the next minute.
"Oh I was a frat boy, alright! Got nothin' better to do in college than cause trouble and play football - y'know the one with a brown ball that looks like a wallnut? That football - though i didn't get to play much, coach said i was too giddy and too happy, that instead of making the other team annoyed i cheer them up, its crazy even Beardo said so. Speaking of Beard he was a beast back then! You should've seen him! You'll love him, he's always laughing and always loud, got in all kinds of bad troubles but he set himself straight in the end. I'm very proud of him"
She heard their story before from beard, or willis (he had revealed his name after weeks of nonstop questioning and obnoxious teasing) she had learned how they came to be Ted and Beard, how insufferable they were like two giggling school girls that had known eachother since birth. How beard became beard and how much an asshole (his own words, not hers) he was to Ted back then. He had told her the time he was sleeping on his couch, how his back felt funny and ache weirdly every morning, how he could map out Ted's house with his eyes closed and ears shut because of how much time he spent in there. How Henry felt so much like his kid, how he watch him grew up and how he had been there when the kid lost his first tooth or rode his own bike.
He owes Ted alot, he had told her. Said he would lay his down his life for him with no question ask and no hesitation on his mind. That Ted is kindest man he had ever met, that he see no wrong in someone even when its staring at him right in the face, even when his own friend stole the car he had been saving for since high-school and almost wreck it.
"Im sure you are, Ted" she replied, picking a piece of loose thread on her couch pillow. "I uh, I don't think I'll attend the party"
"YOU WHAT?!"
She quickly pull the phone away from her ear with a grimaced."Yeahhhh, I just don't really like partying"
"THATS A LIE! I KNOW YOU'RE LYIN' YOU KNOW WHAT? IM COMING OVER RIGHT NOW-"
"Ted im really tired-"
"And I'll make you more tired, don't you dare lock your door or I'll break it in I swear to god-"
She laughed lightly "are you actually going to come over? This is crazy Ted, and for what? Because I'm not coming to that stupid party?"
"IT AINT STUPID, YOU WATCH YOUR MOUTH!" He breathed heavily and she hear a clang of keys followed by a loud thump and a whisper of curse. "-shit, bump my darn knee on the table. This is your fault"
"Im not even there, Ted. That's all on you"
"Yeah but you got me all panicky and annoyed, im comin' over there I'm bringing my left over pasta so you could put a decent meal on your tummy"
God she's so stupidly inlove with him. "Is it your famous spaghetti that you have been bragging about these past few weeks? I heard its good, keleey said its to die for"
"Quit being sweet to me, missy. I'm still annoyed and I'm still comin' over and once I get there we're goin' to eat my pasta and talk about your bad decision okay? Like a proper talk, like a therapy session Dr. Sharon and I been doin' these past few weeks"
"Do I have to cry and tell you my childhood problems and let you figure out how it connects to my annoyance on Halloween?"
"See? Youre already pro at this, just sit pretty and wait for me"
She chuckled lightly and stretched, yawning. "Are you really going to come over?" She had asked "Cause I think I'm about to fall asleep now"
"Ya can fall asleep once I get there and after we ate my pasta, m'kay?" Ted replied followed by a front door closing and being locked.
She blink sleepy as she listen to him "alright, ill wait for you"
"Atta girl" he whispered and she tried to ignore the heat on her stomach as he did so.
Ted arrived with a loud bang, her door hitting the wall so hard she thought it would bust a hole in.
"What the hell?!" She lightly yelled before laughing, watching as Ted pant with a Tupperware of spaghetti on his left hand.
"Sorry, god, wait gotta catch my breath first" he hit his chest a couple of times and cough a little. "Okay, sorry, got excited. But I brought my spaghetti!" He raised it with a large grin, dimple and teeth out and oh she wish  she could kiss him right there.
"I see that you did" she leaned on the marble bar of her kitchen as she watched him walked over to her, eyes ranking up and down.
God he looks good, how dare he?
"And I see that you're still sleepy" he grinned and put the tupper wear down beside her, looking down to meet her eyes.
"Gonna put you to bed, after our talk m'kay?"
"That a promise?" She blinked at him flirty, a sweet smirk playing on her lips.
"N-not that kind of put to bed" Ted looks panicky, flushing pink on her gaze.
"Bummer" she mumbled with a pout before straightening her posture. "Come help me with plates, let's talk while we eat yeah?"
"Y-yeah"
Okay, maybe her drowsiness is making her a little more bolder, more braver, more yearnful for what she wants. Makes her want to capture his very being on her palm and not let go until the sky fall from above.
She wouldn't flirt with him on a good day, wouldn't even smirk at him if she can help it. He's a recently divorced man who has eyes as sad as whimpering puppy, looking anything and anywhere with a kind of desperation you would only find on someone so despondent and so so alone. He wasn't available on the public market, wasn't meant to be courted when she knows his heart still depict someone's else image, she knows he loves Michelle, miss her everyday, and she knows deep on her bones she could not barge in roses in her mouth and poems on her hand and offer to take him out on a date he would never forget.
"Why is the spaghetti cold?" She asked with a frown as she took a bite, water on her side instead of wine because Ted insisted that she should drink something normal for once.
"Spgahti ish dbest win clmpd" she frowned and watched him hold a finger up before swallowing his food. "Sorry. i said spaghetti is the best when its cold"
"Well its not bad" she shrugged as she ate it. "So how's your day? Heard Roy got mad on Jaime again, per usual of course, but this time he was about to tear his throat out"
Ted nod his head "yes, yes, ill tell ya all 'bout it later but first were gotta talk about the Halloween party"
She groaned loudly, throwing her head back. "Must we do this? Really?"
"Yes, really" he wiped his mouth with a napkin before taking a sip on his water, she could not help but feel like he was about to question her every actions and decision as if she was placed under government surveillance.
"Its really not a big deal, teddy. I just don't like going to parties"
"No, no, I heard ya' goin' to bunch of parties before, specially new-year. You're lyin' to me"
Goddamit.
"Fine" she raised her hand in defense, tired. "Seems like I can't lie my way around here so ill give it to you straight.." she took a deep breath, dreading it. Ted watched her closely, brown eyes boaring into her own and if she wasn't sleepy and wasn't bothered by the topic she would mention how beautiful they are.
"I don't like dressing up"
He slam his fork down. "THATS ABSURD!"
"Wow I didnt expect that big of a reaction at all"
"You tellin' me, someone, someone I gosh darn know! Dont like wearin' costume on Halloween? Thats like- thats like worse than murder!"
Her eyes widen "okay thats a little-"
Ted nod calming down a little "yeah yeah, I know, a little dramatic. It ain't worse than murder at all, I was just-" he poke his heart. "Just lost in the moment AND ITS YOUR FAULT!" he pointed at her
She laughed lightly.
"It wasn't even that bad! I just don't like doing it, its perfectly fine"
"No it ain't! I have never met someone like ya before! People always like dressing up, doesn't matter how bad it looks, Halloween is for everyone, its the only day its legal to pretend you're someone else" he's slowly losing his mind.
"I get that and I fully support that but its just not for me" she explained, finally finished with her spaghetti and she had to admit it was pretty fucking good. "I have to say, you're a good cook i didnt expect-"
"NO! FORGET ABOUT THE GOSH DARN SPAGHETTI!" He pointed at her face
"Youre goin' to the party even if i have to drag your bum in there"
She whistled, eyebrows up and eyes a little wide. "Oh my, I didnt know you're into that"
"Shut it" he stated but the blush on his cheeks are apprent.
"Youre goin' that's final, wrapped your self in a toilet paper if ya don't got any costume, you just have to be there"
"You literally cannot make me" she shrugged, leaning on the chair with arms crossed. "Im not going to that party even if you have to put a gun to my head, I don't like Halloween, I don't like costumes and I dojt like candies"
"YOU DONT LIKE CANDIES-" he stop himself before taking a deep breath, controlling his emotions. "Its like, its like I don't know you at all"
"Ted we've been friends for like 2 years, of course you don't"
Ted shook his head, distraught. As if the revelation of her dislike for the holiday might send him spiral to a pit of hopelessness. "If you ain't goin, im not goin'"
Her eyes widen. "What the hell are you on about?"
He looked up to her, eyes hard, determined. Like a soldier off to war.
'This is ridiculous' she had thought
"I said, im not goin if ya ain't goin"
"Y-you can't do that! The others would kill me!" She yelled, panic settling deep on her guts. Rebecca would literally drag her corpse on the road, yelling shame! Shame! Shame! While the folks of richmond would throw shit at her face. "Ted, they'll do worse than kill me. Keleey would use my skin to make herself a new bag, you can't do this to me"
"Oh I will" he pointed, shoulder squared. "I will blame it all on ya', if they ask why I ain't goin' ill tell them it was you"
"This is crazy! Why are you even doing this?!" She asked him, wanting to laugh and wanting to cry on how fucking mental it is.
"Why do I even- why do you even want me there?!"
"BECAUSE!"
"THATS NOT A PROPER REASON, IDIOT!" she yelled before groaning, throwing her hands up. "FINE! FINE! IM GOING! GOD!"
He then grinned, big, wide and bright that she had to squint. She hates the part of her brain that told her that suffering on the party is all worth it if she could see him like this for a second , smiling just for her. Its crazy how he can make everything more livable just by existing.
"I know ya would come around"
She scoffed "like you just didn't threaten me"
"Had to do it" he shrugged, still smiling, still joyous. It makes her heart melt.
"Whatever" she looked away when he met her eyes, blush slithering on her cheeks. "Im going only because of you, you hear?"
It was his turn to blush, dimple deep on his cheek and eyes glimmering. "Yes ma'am" he looked down, suddenly shy. "And I'm only goin cause of ya' either"
She gave him a sideways glance, suspicious. "You sure its not for the beer?"
"Nah, just for ya" she suddenly had a sick sick disgusting urge to giggle. "Ya make everythin' better, not the booze"
God she's so inlove with him she would carved a pumpkin right now if he ask.
___________
She went as ghostface.
Tight black shirt and a sweatpants with fake blood (ketchup) splattered on her white shoes and arms. Its a simple costume that required a little amount of effort and money. And she had to admit, she look hot as fuck, she just wished the security guard up front had let her kept the kitchen knife but no matter how many pleading and yelling of 'its not real!' The man wouldn't budge.
She stood next to Rebecca whose dress could send any man with eyes falling on the floor. She went as maleficent, with horns, high cheek bones and everything that made her almost fall inlove with her.
"Hows the drink?" She had asked, smiling at her so pleasantly ever since she had got there.
"Terrible"
"Oh?" She blinked, confused. Blood red lips almost scowling. "Was it too strong?"
"Not strong enough" she replied with a teasing smile that made her boss rolled her eyes.
"Of course you would say that, the one person here that wants to go home"
"Thats not true" she laughed, putting her glass down before leaning on the wall. Watching as the other dance on the floor, some giggling and some stumbling.
"Im actually enjoying myself"
"I doubt it" Rebecca raised her perfectly drawn brow before a slow teasing grin slithered its way on her red lips. "Ted isn't here yet"
She ignored the heat on her ears
"Are you implying i can only enjoy this party if Ted is here? That he's the sunlight on my dark days? Because if so then you're are one hundred percent corre- holy fucking shit, get out of the way" she quickly, as fast can blink, lightly push Rebecca off the view of the entrance door.
"Goodness!"
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph is that Ted fucking Lasso dressed up as a cowboy?" Keeley -dressed as katniss everdeen - strolled in like a ghost in the night, suddenly popping up, a cola on her hand.
"I think I'm about to faint" y/n confessed with a heavy breath while clutching her heart. Rebecca giggled next to her, gently holding her arm.
"Look at him walking around like he doesn't have half of the woman's eyes on him, he's killing me, he's fucking killing me"
"Look at that ass, oh that is criminal" keeley stated with a whistled, watching as Ted walked around, greeting people with a laugh and a smile.
"Is that a whip?" Y/n squinted her eyes and oh  fuck it is, it is a whip, right on the holster on his hips - she swallowed thickly, the familiar heat of desperation drawing a line on her stomach.
"I have to say, im impres-"
"Im going to ride him"
Keeley choked on her drink
"excuse you?" Rebecca's head whipped around to look at y/n's face, eyes blown wide.
"Forget about the horse, im going to ride Ted Lasso tonight"
"Y-youre going to hook up with him?" Keleey asked her carefully a grin on her lips. "Tonight? Like actually tonight?"
"If he let's me" she answered though her eyes still hangs heavy on Ted Lasso who is currently standing across the room with Beard beside him dressed as Alan from the hangover.
"So you're going to confessed?" Rebecca then asked "Because this is your opportunity to tell him what you really feel, this is your time"
Ted's eyes suddenly met hers and suddenly - everything stops.
The chatter, the song, even the loud flash of cameras and the yells of the drunk. As if one look from him can make the whole world stop turning, made the time crumbles and lay dust beneath his foot.
She could hear her breathing, slow and full and deep. As if he's taking it away, feeding from her own soul. For a minute she would let him, let him take it all, place her heart on his palm and make him promise to keep it close, pour her soul onto his mouth and kiss it to seal its lock, reduce herself into nothing but atoms and dust and particles on the air and be kept in a jar, forever still, forever there, forever on him.
Ted grinned so beautifully she could cry, he gave her a wave, almost shy, almost adoring before he took his first step towards her. Every foot the same rhythm as her heart, for a second she believed in soul mate and for a second she had hoped it was him.
"Hes coming this way!" Keeley squealed lowly, turning away from him and walked towards the bar. "Im going to pretend I dont know you so you can jump on him, okay?"
"Im going to, uh, going over there! Right there to Higgins" she scrambled to lift off her gown and run lightly towards her assistance who's currently dressed as a Frankenstein.
Ted walked towards her, apologizing to the people he had bumped on his way. She doesnt think she can love anyone like this dork..
He wore a flannel, blue and black and rolled over his thick forearms. It was tucked inside his jeans, scandalously tight on his muscled thighs. There's a leather belt slithered between it, thick with a silver buckled on its front. A whip and a fake gun hang on each side.
There's a red bandana hanging on his neck and brown cowboy hat place upon his head.
Ted lasso looks sinful underneath the beating lights and shadows, like a proper seduction on a night, dress in pure temptation with a smile that held thousand of promise.
"Howdy, ma'am" he tipped his hat on her, winking. "Never have i thought I would see a lady as fine as you are"
She pray to get she wouldn't get a nosebleed. "Why thank you, cowboy" she push her mask down, hiding the grin and the blush on her cheek.
"I must say, you look good enough to eat-" she approached him a little, standing close. "-ya wouldn't mind a little bite would ya', sweetheart?"
Ted swallowed "n-not at all"
"What got you stuttering now, little lamb?" She went up to his face, titling her head a little, as if taunting him. "Youre not scared are you?"
Thank fuck for the mask, if it wasn't for it she would be on the floor right now, confidence and determination gone and replaced by the undying need to have him and never let go.
"you're really into your character arent ya?" Ted grinned at you.
"Was i?" She peered up to him with smirk, removing the mask off her face. "What are you going to do about it, cowboy? Lasso me away?"
Ted's dimple become apparent "Might have to if ya keep this up" he titled his head "Whisk you away out'a 'ere and show you what happens to a pretty little naughty thing like ya'"
Her breath hitched, body hot and guts swirlin. Her fingers itched to yank his collar and kiss him stupid.
"Yeah?" She uttered breathlessly
Ted nod his head, gaze stuck on her mouth. "Mhm, but ya would like that wouldn't ya? Have ya with me, bound and tied. Bet you would love it, a minx like ya'"
"Oh I would love it alright" she looked up to him with half lided eyes, almost drank on the words spouting of his mouth.
"Specially so because its you"
Ted had blushed then, red and harsh even under the thousand beating lights. He chuckled, the magic that reside between them now gone, replaced by the silence that you could only get when everything is light and adoring and filled with colors of love and feelings too big for your own heart.
"I uh," he looked down "im glad ya' came, thought ya wouldn't"
She chuckled and took a step back, away from his space.
"I told you I would didn't I?"
"Yeah I know but I thought you're just foolin' me, get me to shut up"
"Ted i would literally pay you my entire savings just to NEVER shut up" she smiled when he shyly looked away. "You know how much I enjoy you talk, even about things I do not understand like a 100 years old pop culture reference from an ancient movie"
"Im not that old" he grumbled rather adorably and it took everything on her not to pinch his cheeks.
"Yeah? Bet your hips would pop if I took you to the dance floor right now"
He stared at her for a couple of seconds before a grin erupted on his lips. "Is this your way of asking me to dance?"
She sighed "depends, are you going to say yes?"
"You gosh darn right I will!" He had replied with a big smile before interrupting it with a pointed finger " 'n not cause of your allegations about my perfectly fine hips, its cause I want to dance with ya'"
"I know that ted" she laughed, grabbing his hand suddenly, warm and big and rough. She likes it. "Now show me what you got, cowboy. You're too fine not to show off on the dance floor"
_________
They stumbled around the flat, kissing heatedly - all teeth and tounge and the pain of desperation to consume.
"Fuck, you're killing me" she grumbled, eyes half lided and lips red and wet. Her fingers worked in frenzy to take off every clothing he wore, buttons flying and his hat somewhere on the floor.
"Did I mention how good you look tonight?" She nose his neck, licking a stripe that had him shivering. "Did I, darling?"
"N-no, oh god" he moaned when her palm squeezed the outline of his cock on his tight jeans.
She smirked and bit him lightly on the skin between his shoulder.
"Well you are, my love." She whispered, not even bothering to give a flying fuck on the nickname she had accidently slip out. "Absolutely handsome, couldn't keep my fucking eyes off you you know that?"
Ted looked half drunk across you, hair a mess and neck covered with bites. "I-i didnt know ya find, ngh- I didnt know ya find me t-that attractive, sweetheart"
"All the flirting wasn't enough then?" She questioned, pushing him to fall on the couch and he did, easily, with a grunt and a look of anticipation and dark lust.
"Looks like you're more of a visual learner eh?" She sat on his lap, grinding her heated core on his hard cock - wet with slick and thick between her thighs. "What do you say, cowboy? Gonna let me ride you till sunrise?"
Ted moaned loudly, hands gripping her waist and nails digging on the flesh. "Y-yes please"
She smiled, hands slithering on his hair before pulling it to bare his throat to her like a submissive prey would. "Dont worry, darling. I'll take good care of you"
In one move his cock was inside her, thick and splitting her open. A gush of slick drip down her thighs and Ted moaned loudly, not a care in the world. "God.." he groaned, throwing his head back. "Feels good, fuck, ya feel so fuckin' good baby doll"
The nickname send shiver down her spine, a tingling of heat and cold.
"Squeezin' my damn cock so fuckin' tight" he licked his lips before grinning up to her, eyes lazy, dark and blown wide. "Ya sure this cunt ain't made f'me, dollface? You takin' my cock like champ"
She moaned on his filthy words, tounge frozen and chest tight. She could feel him inside her, deep on her guts, moving and rearranging anything it can reach.
"Yeah-fuck, look at ya'" he strike a palm on her ass, loud. "Beautiful thing sat on my cock, s'yours yeah?" He took her mouth, gifting her a wet kiss, pulling her bottom lip. "How ya feelin', bunny? Feels good?"
"Y-yes, feels-fuck, feel so full" she arched her back as Ted's hand went to her waist, big palm squeezing it thigh with his thumb caressing the skin he can reach.
"Cock's too big, ain't it?" He questioned, a lazy smirk on his lips. "Fitting into your tiny cunt just right though yeah? Look at it" his other hand went to her soaking pussy, caressing her folds before sucking it clean with a hummed. "Swallowing me whole easily, what a good fuckin' girl ya are. Makes me wonder if ya can take my cock on the back, fill ya up even more what'd ya say?"
He pulled her close and she gasped as his dick pierced her impossibly more deeper. "Talk to me, darlin'" he nose her neck, breathing warmth on her throat. "Gonna let your man tear ya' up from behind? Shoot my cum inside ya till you're a drippy mess hm?"
Goodness his fucking mouth..' she had thought, shivering.
"Bet ya would huh?" He bit a skin on her neck before sucking it harshly, drawing a bruise and a shiver on her spine. She moaned when his hands went to her ribs, big they were and rough, a hands of a man who could toss her around. "Bet ya would even beg for it, ya naughty thing"
His fingers went to her shoulder, brushing it gently with heavy breath and heated eyes. Tracing the collar bone and the line between her breast before his fingers reach her perked up nipple - making her shudder. "Beautiful" he whispered lowly, as if it was a secret meant only for himself. His hand envelop her whole breast, playing with it as his cock speared her in a pace that had her toes curling. She could feel every vein inside her, every thrust had her cunt quivering and gushing, painting his pelvis with her own slick.
His mouth went to her nipple, hot and smooth and soaking. His tounge swirled and his lashes flutter as he closed his eyes, the hand on her ribs pulled her much closer than before and Ted sucked at her nipple like a man starve, groaning.
She bounce on his cock, moaning wantonly from the fullness between her thighs, she swore she could feel his dick on her throat, so deep and so thick it was splitting her open, making a room inside her just for his cock and his alone.
"Thats it" he remove his mouth off her nipple with a pop before throwing his head back. "Thats it, dollface. Take my cock like ya own it" he clenched his jaw, the litte hair dangling on his forehead moving at every movement she makes, long eyelashes closed and mouth slightly agape.
She moaned when his hips started moving, meeting her thrust halfway through, it hit the hidden spot inside her that made her want to scream and sob and stop at the same time. "T-ted, Ted, Ted!" She repeated his name like a mantra, like a broken prayer of a desperate man, filled with adoration and lust and yearning for something she doesnt even know what.
He groaned loudly, almost like a growl of a feral man before he sat up more straighter, grabbing her closely, impossibly close, pushing her head on his neck and hugging her tight on his own sweaty body that it render immovable and writhing in pleasure. "Gonna fuck your pretty little pussy just like this yeah?" He stated in her ear before his hips started moving much faster, more harder, hitting her spot over and over again that every thrust had her gushing and moaning.
"Yeah, fuck yeah, t-take it, take it, take it" he repeated in her ear, thick thick cock spearing her mercilessly until she was sobbing and drawing her nails on his shoulder.
"S'too m-much!" She complained and yet she widen her thighs further more, savoring the feeling of his wet cock. "T-teddyy" she whined, pushing her face into his neck as tears fell from her eyes.
"What got ya cryin' now, sweetheart?" He chuckled breathlessly, hips still moving, dick still splitting her open. His hand went to her nape, grabbing it with his whole palm before pulling it to glimpse at her fucked out face. "Even with tears drippin' on your cheeks you're fuckin' beautiful" he pecked her lips sweetly before drawing back, a grin on his lips. "'S my cock too much for ya' dolly? Daddy hurtin' your cunt hm? Do-dont worry.." his hand tighten. "Gonna give ya my cum to make it all better"
That was the last straw of it all, snapping everything in place, cogs turning and limbs rigid.
She came on his cock with a cry and a thousand tears on her cheeks, back arching and quivering that Ted had to hold him more tighter. She could feel her cum dripping down his cock, soaking him wet. Ted moaned in return, loving the filth of it all, basking on it even - he watched her face relax and brows furrowed, letting herself be used even when her cunt throbs.
"T-teddy" she whined lowly, biting her lip. Her hand went to his arm, gripping it tight. "C-cant, m'too, im too s-sensitive!"
"Just a lil' mo-more" he groaned, holding her waist now, lifting her up and bringing her down, completely using her like she was only a hole for him, a cum dump. "Ya can take it, d-darlin'. M'sure ya could yeah? Jus-just a little, be good f'me"
She squealed and she sob, soaping cunt loud at every thrust. He was breathing heavily then, sweating like a dog in heat as he split her. Thighs sticky and cunt still dripping.
"Fu-fuck, bunny" he groaned, grinding her on his throbbing cock. "M' close, f-fuck, so fuckin' close" he whined, head thumping on her chest, breath warming her breast. "G-gonna cum, can-can i, can I fill ya' up? Pleas-please please, oh god.." the sound he had made was between a sob and a moan, it made her guts coil, made her cheeks hot.
"Mhm hm" she nod her head quickly, pulling him close to him. "P-please cum inside me, t-ted pl-please" tears drip down her cheeks, cunt swollen and clit throbbing with need. Hes stretching her wide, touching every corner of her inside.
"Y-yeah, thank you dolly, fu-fuck thank you" he groaned and push his hips much faster, fucking her silly with his cock. "Gonna fill your pretty pussy up nice and good yeah?" He was breathing heavily, heaving chest and throbbing cock. She can feel it more on her guts, a dull bump on her tummy at every movement he makes."G-gonna have ya drippin' f'me, use ya' like a fuckin hole and dump my spunk into your pussy yeah? Fuck!" He gave a harsh thrust "Oh god, sweetheart oh fuck i love you"
Her eyes widen.
"Love ya' so fuckin' much" he growled, pulling her onto his lap before he lift his hips up and gave her a single harsh thrust. "Fucking take it, take it, take it" he repeated in her ear as his cum came flooding in, hot and so so many.
"Yeah, s-shit look'a that. 'S too much its dripping out'a ya'" he groaned, thrusting slower then, riding his high.
"Ya did such a good job" he sighed as he had stopped, pulling out of her with a low moan and a shudder.
He kissed her forehead with a lazy grin.  "Lets get ya clean-"
"You said you love me" she interrupted him with a wide eyes and a blushing cheeks.
"What?"
"You told me you love me" she repeated, as if in trance. "You said you love me so much earlier, you repeated it twice, Ted"
Ted sat frozen underneath her before looking away, suddenly so so sad.
"I-yeah, okay, no point in-in denying i supposed" his brows furrowed and his eyes had turned into that softer gentler look that had her heart always aching. "I love ya..for, for a long time. Don't know how it started and I'm quiet upset im confessing to ya' like this but what do I do" he chuckled but the humour on it was gone. He met her eyes, earnest, adoring, the same gaze he had used to looked at her for as long as she can remember, a gaze she couldn't put a finger on back then but could finally see it as clearly as day now.
"I love you, im inlove with you, stu-stupidly so and I get it if ya don't feel the same, its okay and I can do whatever ya like me too after this, I can walk away or I can pretend to never know ya at-"
She kissed him.
She kissed him like he would loose him.
Like any second he would turn into ashes, flew in the air and never to be return again. Tasted him like It would be her last to see him for a very long time, as if he's off to war with death hanging like a noose on his head, ready to pull and ready to kill.
"I love you too, you fucking idiot" she grinned up to him, eyes wet and cheeks hurting.
"I love you, Ted. I fucking love you"
Ted smiled, big and bright despite the darkness of the night. He looks beautiful with happiness lingering on his eyes.
"Can I kiss you?"
"Yes, fuck yes"
Their lips met and yeah..yeah maybe Halloween wasn't too bad.
Ted smiled on her lips and it tasted sickeningly sweet as a melted sugar.
Yep, it definitely wasn't bad at all.
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believesthings · 8 months
Text
Paper Thin // Ted Lasso x Reader
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Summary: you’ve been secretly listening to your hot American neighbor masturbate through the walls. When you finally do go inside his place for the first time, some interesting revelations come to light.
Warnings: smut. smut. smut. Masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, light anal play, nipple play, body praise, vibrators, slight allusion to violence but nothing is specifically described or mentioned.
You have a filthy fucking habit.
Your vibrator has taken a permanent residence on the empty side of your bed to allow for easy access when you hear the inevitable shuffle on the other side of your bedroom wall.
The entire ordeal started when Ted Lasso came to town. You had heard about the news, of course. Football was a big deal around here and even if you weren’t big into the sport, it was pretty close knit community and a new face, especially an American one, was bound to make some waves.
What you hadn’t expected was for him to be so… hot.
You were at the Crown and Anchor when it first hit the airwaves. You were pulled from your own personal bubble when you heard Peter from the bar shout,
“Farmer fuckin’ Brown is gonna be the new gaffer?”
You pulled your head up to see Ted’s smiling face on the screen, explaining how he was taking over for AFC Richmond.
People weren’t thrilled about it to say the least. You kept quiet though. You had to admit, looking at him, you weren’t mad about it. He seemed exactly like your type. You figured that it didn’t really matter. Most likely, you would never run into the man.
That, as it turned out, was massively inaccurate.
The flat next to yours has been empty for a few months. You’d gotten used to the silence, so much so that when you heard footsteps and a voice, a male voice, on the other side of the wall, your first instinct was to call the police.
You were so startled that you stood there, phone in hand, hovering over your bed. When you heard the knock on your door, you tried not to panic. Making your way slowly to the door, sneaking a glance through the peek hole, you see a disheveled Ted Lasso at your doorstep. You open the door in a haze.
He is hotter in person, you decide. Up close you can see the stubble from where he hasn’t shaved. His sleeves pushed up exposing his forearms. A little tendril of hair over his forehead that you want to run your hands through. Big, bright eyes that you could probably get lost in. What was that Dolly Parton lyric?
Here you come again, looking better than a body has the right to.
That seemed to embody Richmond’s new football manager.
You both stared at each other momentarily. He broke the silence first.
“Hey there! Sorry to bother you so late, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Ted Lasso, your new neighbor.”
Oh shit. Shit. Shit.
The universe was either smiling down on you or paying you back for a nasty curse in your past life. At the moment, you weren’t sure which way the scales were tipping.
He’s there holding out his hand, seemingly about to drop it when you come to your senses.
“Y-yes. Hi. I saw you on the news. You’re the new coach?” You take his hand and he squeezes yours lightly. You’re only a little embarrassed to admit that it makes you wonder what it feel like for his hands to squeeze other parts of your body.
“That’s right. Well, listen I won’t keep you long, I know it’s late. I just wanted to stop by and say hi. I’ll try not to bother ya too much. Now I won’t lie to you - you’ll probably hear the occasional billy ocean song in the morning or maybe some late night viewings of you’ve got mail, but feel free to just bang on the wall or some thin’ if I ever get too loud for ya.”
You nod, practically unable to form words.
“Oh shoot! I didn’t catch your name.” He pauses waiting for you to give it, which you do.
“Nice to meet ya. Goodnight neighbor!” He flashes you a smile that practically makes you melt before he’s off to his own door.
You were definitely screwed.
The first time you heard him touching himself, you almost didn’t realize what was happening. There was some vague shuffling on the other side of the wall and you were wrapped up in your own world to really pay that much attention. The moans started, light and soft, you couldn’t really be sure what you were hearing but as he got more and more into it, it became clear.
Oh fuck.
You were squirming listening to the sounds he was making. It didn’t sound like there were any other noises so you have to assume he was alone.
You’re practically holding your breath, as if just a simple exhale would give you away and he would stop. One deep grunt in particular, followed by a light bang of his headboard against the wall as he jutted his cock up into the curve of his palm, had you damn near convulsing.
That was the first night you broke out the vibrator. It hasn’t been put back in your drawer since.
You hear the familiar knock of Ted’s hand on your door and you scurry to answer.
“Hey! I baked some goodies for my favorite neighbor.”
Jesus Christ, he bakes too?
“Favorite neighbor, huh? What about Mrs. Shipley?”
He waves you off, “oh I think I might’ve burned my bridge with her a while ago. Bit too loud for her taste.”
“Might not hurt to bake her some treats, get back on her good side. You could get yourself a discount from Shipley’s Steakhouse.”
He looks directly at you when you replies, “Oh now, I love a good steak, don’t get me wrong but what I really value is loyalty and I’m not one to quit, so when I find a favorite… trust me, I stick with it.”
Either you’re hallucinating or his eyes seem to move up and down your body at the end of his speech. Was he still talking about baking? Surely, you’re reading too much into this. He couldn’t be into you, could he?
You can hear him again. You reach for your vibrator beginning to travel down between your legs at the sounds of his moans.
This is also the only time you’ve heard him curse.
“O-oh fuck.”
You close your eyes, trying to picture what he must look like on the other side of the wall.
You have no idea what his typical nightly attire is but for the purposes of your fantasies, you imagine he’s shirtless, legs stretched out, lazily stroking his cock. His eyes are also closed, just like your own, soaking in his own pleasure. Familiarizing himself with every ridge and curve. He doesn’t go too fast at first, wants to feel it steadily build. He keeps a thumb on the tip, rubbing smooth, slow circles. A bit of pre-cum is probably already leaking out, as he uses it to coat the head of his cock. You can hear his moans getting increasingly louder, loosening his inhibitions. He’s probably giving himself smooth, even strokes, thrusting his cock into his own hand.
You follow suit at the idea, grinding your hips in a way that has you fucking yourself against your vibrator.
You can hear his moaning getting more erratic on the other side of the wall and you’re sure he’s close. Thank god. Because you are too.
You hear another string of curses, followed by a final moan that you’re sure is his release and you follow momentarily behind him, trying to remain quiet. If you can hear him through the walls, it stands to reason that he would be able to hear you too.
You both come down from your high together, separated by a nearly paper thin wall.
You fall into a comfortable rhythm with Ted. He brings you baked goods, you chat and flirt at the doorway, you sneak to his door and write little thank you notes. Then at night, you shamelessly fuck yourself while listening to him cum.
You had ended up at Ted’s doorstep after a particularly nasty date. You were rain soaked, shoes covered in mud and shivering.
When he opened the door and you saw him standing there, looking so cozy in his sweater, it almost made you wanna cry.
He didn’t ask questions, he stepped aside for you to come in.
“Gonna run you a bath, alright?”
You nod. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to warm yourself up.
“Come on, darlin’.”
He’s filled up the tub for you, leaving you alone to get undressed and get settled in.
“Ted?”
He peaks his head around to see you in the bath. “Yeah?”
“Would it be weird for me to ask you to stay in here with me? I don’t really wanna be alone right now.”
He seems momentarily fazed but he recovers quickly. “Yeah, of course.”
He doesn’t make an effort to get in the bath with you, he sits in front of tub, his back against it.
“Not that I don’t appreciate your presence but can I ask what you’re doing here? Is everything alright?”
You don’t answer at first. Weighing it out in your head. He doesn’t rush you, not that you would expect him too.
“Well, I downloaded Bantr..”
You don’t notice it, but Ted stiffens against the tub. Jealously, he guesses. Which is ridiculous. He knows he has no right be. He would never want to be one of those guys that tries to dictate who you could or couldn’t spend time with but he hates you the idea of you with someone else all the same.
“I didn’t really want to do it, to be honest. I mostly did it to support Keeley. Anyway, there was a guy I was talking to on there and we finally went out on a date tonight. It was.. bad.” You wonder at the way your voice cracks at the last word.
“He was… he..” you trail off.
Ted seems to become even more tense. In a tone you’ve never heard from him before, he asks, “Did he hurt you?”
When you don’t respond, he takes long, deep breaths. You’re not giving him much to go off of and his anxiety is filling in the gaps with some pretty nasty scenarios. “Darlin’, I would never want to force you to talk about anything you don’t want to but I need a yes or no answer. I need to know what we’re dealing with here.”
You instantly note the fact that he said what we’re dealing with instead of what you’re dealing with.
“It was awful, Ted. The entire night was just one backhanded compliment after another. He constantly interrupted everything I had to say. He kept making all these little snide remarks. And the poor waitress, he was such a prick to her. At one point, he actually said that the date and I were a waste of time and then he left me with the check and no ride home. So, I walked here.”
“You could’ve called me, ya know. You didn’t need to walk, especially in the rain. I would’ve come and got you.”
“What if you were busy?”
“Doesn’t matter. Nothing could keep me from you.”
You raise your hand up to run your fingers through his hair. He leans back into your touch. “Ted, could you join me, please?”
He turns to fully look at you. “You sure you’re comfortable with that?”
You nod but you had a feeling he would want verbal confirmation. “Yes.” You follow up by asking, “Are you? Comfortable with that?”
“Yeah, course.”
You watch him undress and you scoot forward, drawing your legs up to allow him to slide behind you. He picks you up and slides you onto his lap. You try not to focus on the feeling of his growing erection prodding against your back, instead leaning back and relaxing against his chest. You watch the water pool around knees and see his arms wrap around your front, making his way up your body.
You hear his words rumble in his chest as you press against him. “There we go. You feeling okay?”
You nod, “Yeah. Thank you, Ted.”
You chuckles lowly in you ear. “You don’t need to thank me. This is exactly where you should be.”
He rubs small circles into your hips and asks, “Can I kiss you?”
“I think I would lose my mind if you didn’t.”
He tilts your head up and Leans down to kiss you. You can feel his hand, moving further up your body to begin idly toying with your nipple. You let out an involuntary whimper into his mouth and you can feel him smirking against your lips. The bastard. He definitely knows what he’s doing. When he break apart, he brings his hand up to run a finger across your bottom lip. You open your mouth and suck his finger into your mouth. Ted lets out a sudden guttural groan that tells you that you made a good call.
You flutter your tongue up and down his finger, tightening your lips and sucking. He answers with another growl before bringing his other hand down to continue playing your nipples, rubbing circles, feeling them harden beneath his touch, and then when you least expect it, pinching at them too.
You break away to let out a moan of your own. "You feel so good." You say to him, feeling him continue to toy with your body.
He dips his head down, placing kisses to your neck. "I'm sorry you had a bad date, sweetheart. But that boy clearly didn't know what he had right there in front of him. It probably worked out for the best, you deserve better than that. He wouldn't have been able to make you moan like this anyway."
You peer up at him, "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"
He leans down to your ear, "Because I know what gets you going sweetheart. I don't think that vibrator is as quiet as you think it is."
Oh Shit.
You whip your head around at him. "You knew this whole time?"
He nods at you as you shrink you body, trying to hide your face in embarrassment.
"Oh, now there's no need to start getting shy on me now, Darlin'. Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep my cool around you sometimes? You remember that time you came by and brought my phone to my office because I went off and left it at home?"
You nod, trying to focus on his words while you can feel his hands continuing their exploration of you.
"Some of the guys in the locker room were talking about you, how attractive you were and it drove me crazy. I wanted to tell them that none of them had a chance because I knew at the end of the day, you were going home and sharing all pleasure with me. Do you know how wild it made me to know that you were on the other side of the wall, stroking your silky little pussy while listening to me? I had never even laid a hand on you but hearing you break out that vibrator, it was enough to make me want to claim you as mine."
You laugh lightly at this. "I've always been yours, Ted. Since that first night you knocked on my door."
He runs his hands along your inner thighs, soothing you into relaxation. When his fingers began to play lightly over your pussy, he hard you sigh in relief. He keeps kissing down your neck, he nips lightly at your shoulder. He works two of his fingers around your opening, dipping inside to find you wet and ready.
"You wanna know what I thought about all those times I was touching myself? I bet you already know. I was thinking about my pretty neighbor."
You had just enough coherence left in you to crack a joke. "Mrs. Shipley? I'm sure she would be flattered."
He doesn't acknowledge your quip, instead bringing you for another kiss, continuing to finger you under the water of the bath. "There is nothing better than the feeling of you getting wet for me."
He brings his thumb up to rub circles on your clit and you're arching your back against him.
"You're so responsive, aren't you sweetheart? Can you do me a favor? Can you get on your knees for me?"
You do as he asks, feeling his hands stoke along your hips, positioning you against the opposite end of the tub. He kisses down your arched spine, groaning at the sight of you - the swell of your ass rising from the water, bubbles from the soap pooling around you. He takes his hands, rubbing them smoothly over your skin, drinking you in. He leans over you, "I need to be inside you, sweetheart. Would that be okay with you?"
You nodded, your head relaxing against your arms.
You feel him begin to push into you. "Don't worry, honey. I'm not gonna give you a straight plunge to the top of ya. Gotta let you adjust, don't we?"
You gasp and stiffen at the feel of him, new and incredibly full, tapping you part way into you.
He goes back to toying with your body, giving you light kisses, waiting for you to relax against him. He can feel you arch your ass back into his hips. He can hear you gasp and let out a moan as you relax around him. "I was right, you are responsive. That's it baby, open up for me. I can feel you practically fluttering around my cock, honey."
He gives one final push, now fully inside you. He never lets his hands take a break. His fingers are either circling your clit or toying towards your ass. You can feel him all over you.
"You close already? You're taking me so well."
"Yes" you moan out - head rolling against your forearms trying to keep balance.
"Can you help me come baby?" Ted was speeding up a bit now, his thrusts making you brace against the side of the tub.
"Y-Yes."
He brings his thumb against your ass, slowly sliding it into you, you gasp out at the sensation, tensing up at the new feeling.
"I got ya, honey. Just relax. Just wanna make you feel good, nice and full, okay?"
He begins moving his thumb to the same rhythm as his cock, enjoying your moans, rubbing the pad of his thumb against you, he says, "I can feel my cock in you. You feel... so g-good." He groans out. "So tight." He growls more to himself than to you. "You ready to cum for me?"
You were beginning to shake, feeling helpless against the tidal wave of pleasure. The fullness that made you feel split open, the tingling and sparking that indicated that you were so, so close. "Y-Yes."
He hand reaches to tug your clit in between his fingers, "Cum for me, Darling." Your head jerks back, knocking against his collarbone as you shudder blissfully. After a final push of his cock and fingers, he growls and joins you, mouth biting down on your shoulder, absorbing his moans.
Gently sliding out of you, He wraps his arms around your shaking body, wrapping you against him, gently rocking you back and forth while your breathing returned to normal. "You were so good for me." He gives you one final kiss and lifts you from the tub, drying you off with a towel and rubbing coconut oil on the sore parts of your body.
"Thank you, Ted."
"How many times do I need to tell ya, Darling? You don't need to thank me."
He hovers above you for a moment before continuing, "Although I guess there is something you could do for me if you wanted."
"Course, Teddy. You can have anything."
"You can invite me over to your place one of these nights and let me use that pretty little vibrator on you myself."
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burnthoneydrops · 8 months
Note
Could you do a fluff Jamie Tartt imagine where the reader takes care of a drunk Jamie who forgets that they've been dating for months and thinks they're back in their crush phase after they and the boys went out celebrating a win?
Drunk in the Back of the Car (j.t. x fem!reader)
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pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader
word count: 654
warnings: language, alcohol
a/n: here you go love! i hope you like it and requests continue to be open!! (also first time writing for jamie so pls be kind lol)
The early 2000’s pop music blasting through the speakers was about to make your brain explode. The boys were celebrating a great victory in their match earlier that day and had all decided to crash this club that Colin had found. The flashing lights and sticky floors were slightly off-putting but the boys just wanted to celebrate and Jamie had insisted you came along too. Keeley and Roy were somewhere, probably at a table stuffed in a corner as Roy hated anyone spotting him. Isaac immediately bought a round of drinks upon entry and thus started the flow of alcohol. You were just glad that you and Jamie had agreed that you would drive home so he could properly celebrate. 
Speaking of your boyfriend, he was nowhere to be seen. A group of you had been gathered in front of the bar, chatting and drinking and dancing- though somewhat badly- and then as the night aged on and people found different things that piqued their interests, the group dispersed into smaller groups across the club. You were clumped together with Colin and Sam, chatting about the opposing team from the earlier match, while Colin interspersed some lyrics from the rap songs that were playing overhead. While laughing at Colin doing this weird dance while rapping, you felt a tap on your shoulder. 
“Your boyfriend is smashed,” Roy commented as he held Jamie under his arms. He was clearly having a hard time standing on his own and it seemed like Roy had dragged him from wherever they were previously stationed. 
“I’m fine grandad,” Jamie retorted, though slurred and he clearly had to put a lot of thought into the short sentence. 
“I’ll take him,” you smiled at Roy, silently thanking him for making sure Jamie got back to you. He nodded and passed Jamie over to you before he walked off, probably going back to find Keeley again. You grabbed one of Jamie’s arms and threw it over your shoulders, leaning his weight into you. “Looks like I’d better get this one home. Enjoy the rest of your night lads”. Sam and Colin say their goodbyes before going to find the other boys. 
“Woah, you better be careful there. I’ve got a girlfriend and I don’t think she’d like you touching me like this,” Jamie tries to stand up straighter to get away from you, but almost immediately tips back over. 
“I am your girlfriend,” you laugh. 
“No way,” Jamie says quietly, in an ‘I can’t believe it’ type of way. 
“Come on Jams, let’s get you home”. 
Despite the copious amounts of effort it took to get Jamie through your front door- which included him almost throwing up in the back seat of your car- you finally got him in bed in a semi-comfortable position. Once you were sure he wasn’t going to throw up in the bed, at least long enough for you to get ready for bed, you headed to the bathroom to take your makeup off and change out of your clubbing outfit. 
“Y/N?” You heard Jamie call from the bed. 
“Yes love?” you question, sticking your head out of the bathroom doorway. 
“How’d you get into my house?” 
“I have a key Jams,” you laugh. 
“Did I give you that?” He tilts his head. 
“How sloshed did you get Jamie?” You move closer to him, sitting down next to him on the bed. 
“Oh my god I’ve got Y/N in my bed,” he whispers more to himself. 
“I’ve been sharing a bed with you for the past two months, love,” you remind him, moving his hair away from his sticky forehead. 
“Holy shit, no way,” he mutters before passing out again. You laugh at his antics and go back to the bathroom, finishing your nighttime routine before grabbing some water and aspirin for the morning. You were so going to make fun of him tomorrow for this.
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daydreamgoddess14 · 8 months
Text
Complaints Procedure
MASTERLIST
Roy Kent x F!Reader
Literally just 1.5k of pure filth. Sorry, not sorry?! 😅Taken from this prompt.
Inspired by this image:
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~~~~~
You knew to avoid the locker room immediately before and after matches. The less than stellar performance of the team during the season had seemingly made everyone angry - even Sam was down. Jamie Tartt continued to annoy and degrade everyone who so much as glanced at him, and the so-called Captain looked about ready to throw in the towel. Getting rid of George Cartrick may have been a wise decision, but his replacement was certainly unorthodox. You had your work cut out for you in HR, it was like babysitting 2 year olds - they all still bit, kicked, and scratched. Seeing you always gave them the initiative to put complaints in, complaints that you had to be seen to legitimately deal with, even if dealing with it meant sitting the idiots involved down and giving them a telling off. You had never told off Roy Kent, though. The man terrified and turned you on in equal measure.
Just the low timbre of his voice made your heart pound and flooded your body with want. Training was long over, so you figured you were safe to take some paperwork down to Ted Lasso's office. Your heels clicked on the concrete as you made your way through the maze of rooms. Wage slips for the folks in the ticket office, holiday forms for the staff in the medical and treatment areas, and the weekly update on player relations that Ted had asked you to draft. Who was fighting with who, who had you had to threaten with suspension, and who you'd just had to give an arse kicking to. As you turn to leave Ted’s office, Roy is coming back in from the showers. With just a towel gripped in his hand. You look literally anywhere else. The ceiling tiles become particularly interesting. 
"Oi, what you doing in here?"
"Just dropping some paperwork off, no need to be rude."
"Sorry, just… thought I was alone, that's all." You drag your eyes from the ceiling to his, drawing an invisible line across his nose so you do not look any lower. "See something you like?" He teases, as if he knows it's taking all your will to not look at his chest or the towel. 
"Definitely not. I'm done now, I'll leave you to it." 
 
You're sure you must hold your breath on the walk from the locker room to your office because as soon as you shut the door, it all comes out in a whoooosh. As good-looking as he is, you can't stand his arrogance, dominance, and anger issues. You knew it was nothing new in football or in work at all, really. You'd seen every layer of the food chain, and it was always the top of the tree who thought they were gods gift. You knew he could be kind and thoughtful. You'd seen it for yourself with the younger, less experienced players and with fans too. It was definitely a certain calibre of person who set him off - the Jamie Tartts and George Cartricks of the world. You're still leaning against your office door when you feel and hear it knock. When it begins to open against your back, you have to jump out of the way so it can swing open. Fully clothed, Roy is on the other side. 
"Do I scare you?" He asked, frowning. 
"Course you don't scare me, I'm not a sodding child." You roll your eyes. "Did you need something?" 
"I might need to put in a complaint." You arch an eyebrow at him, 
"Really? Go on?" He took a step closer to you, so you take a step back. 
"I saw the way you looked at me downstairs -" you scoffed, 
"I did not look at you at all. I actively didn't look at you," you start, angry until you see the smirk. "Oh fuck off, did you come up here just for a laugh? I've got enough to deal with picking up 
after Jamie Tartt since he can't stop making everyone miserable." He holds up his hands in surrender. 
"Alright, alright, just a joke," he laughs a little. "You wanted to look though." 
"You are just like the other idiots. So full of your own self importance, you all think everyone wants you." He narrows his eyes and takes another step towards you.
"At the risk of sounding like any of those pricks, tell me you don't?"
"What makes you think-"
"Humour me." He looks at you like he might devour you at any moment, his eyes dark with just a hint of mirth. He knows what you think about when you see him. You feel your breath quicken, and the urge to press your thighs together is desperate, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction of being right. Before he can catch you in a lie, he forces you to take one final step back against your desk and leans down to capture your mouth in a messy, obscene kiss. 
 
The shock of it makes you gasp, giving him access to deepen the kiss. Your hands grip at his shoulders to keep him close, trying to get him even closer if it's possible. He leans you back against your desk, the edge of it digging into the back of your thighs while his hands are trying to touch as much of you as possible. By leaning back on the desk, he can kiss along your jawline. It would be impossible now to make out that you don't want him, your greedy hands roam up his arms and into his hair and the sighs and moans he's pulling from you with just a kiss are insane. The length of his body presses against the length of yours and you feel him hard against your hip. Feeling how much he wants you only makes you need him more. Your hand brushes across the front of his jeans, making him jerk to meet it. He breaks the kiss and watches you breathlessly as you move to undo the button in the waistband. You can tell he's about to ask if you're sure, so you place a soft kiss to his lips,
"I want you to fuck me," you tell him quietly. There is still just a hint of hesitation in your voice, but it's more a fear that he'll reject you than anything else. 
"Fucking hell." He sighs into you. He grips your hips and turns you to face the desk, you rest on your forearms. He has your skirt rucked up around your waist in no time at all and nudges your feet a little further apart. You don't have the time or inclination to feel embarrassed or to consider something more meaningful. The singular thought in your mind is having him inside you. You hear the tear of a condom wrapper and feel him at your core. His hand cups you first, wanting to check that you're ready. "You're so fucking wet," he mutters almost proudly. He gives your hip a little squeeze of warning and pushes inside you. 
"God, Roy yesss," you hiss as he fills you completely. Fully seated, he pauses just a minute to reach down and sweep your hair to one side so he can kiss your neck, "please, Roy-" you push back against him, desperate for more. He takes the hint and pounds into you over and over. He’s hitting exactly where you need him with each thrust, and it's enough to have you believing in some sort of deity. You can feel the pressure building and you're so close to the edge it's overwhelming. "I'm so close, please daddy-" the words tumble from you, unfiltered and unexpectedly - that is a brand new one for you, and when you feel his pace slow just slightly, you're terrified that you've repelled him. He moans low in his chest and redoubles his efforts, unyielding, until you come hard, crying out his name. 
"Say it again," he whispers against your ear, his body draped over your back. His hand reaches around to rub circles over your clit and you're so sensitive that the payback is almost immediate and you can feel another orgasm building. 
"Fuck, make me come again daddy," you beg. He does exactly that within seconds of you asking, his own release coming at the same time. He holds your hips while your legs shake, his forehead resting on the center of your back. He slips out of you and disposes of the condom before turning you gently to rest you back against the desk. You keep your head down, chin to chest, mortified at what's just happened until his nose nudges against yours and he kisses you softly. 
"Holy fucking shit, I should threaten to complain again, that was insane," he breathes, still holding your hips and trying to get you to look up at him. 
"I shouldn’t ha-"
"No, don't do that. You're definitely going to say it again," he chuckles against you, "I fucking promise you'll say it again." 
 
FIN
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danistartt · 10 months
Text
Jamie Tartt's Awful Breakfast and Lovely Morning
pairings: jamie tartt x reader, roy kent warnings: reader is not a very good cook, fire?, language a la kent about: a request about reader not being a very good cook and jamie kind of liking it, and a request about touchy jamie <3
“You don’t have to get up with me ev’ry day, babe,” Jamie insists, his honesty doubted when he rests his chin against your shoulder.
“I don’t mind. I miss you when you’re gone.” You shrug, trying your best to keep the motion identifiable but unbothersome for the man gnawing at your skin. You laugh at him, shimmying your shoulders to get him away. “Jamie, what are you doing?”
“Y’smell good,” he hums. 
“It’s the batter,” you say. Jamie disagrees. “Can you get some butter, please?”
Jamie raises a brow and looks over to your hands, busy with the flour. Clumpy yellow bubbles trap more white into sticky goo. “More, love?”
“Yeah.” You wrinkle your nose, scraping gross residue off your index before sticking it back inside the mix. “I don’t think I used it right. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to melt it?”
“What’d the recipe say?” Jamie asks, opening the fridge.
“Soften. But there are different levels of soft, right?” You grimace at your concoction, but take your free hand and wrap it around the stick of butter he hands you. 
He watches you settle into your position, microwave ignored. “What’re you doin’?”
“Softening,” you murmur, concentrating on your mixture.
“Don’t ya think we’ve advanced a little further than that as humanity?”
“You’d think, huh?” Your fingers squeeze a little tighter.
He stares at the jutted bottom lip, the little lines between your brows, and decides you must be right. With only a chunk of your attention, you’re trying to figure out a way to rush heat into the stick of butter through your palm. He bites his lip. “We have mix,” he offers.
Your head swivels toward him, features scandalized. “I’m doing good!” you defend.
“I know,” he says. “You’re doing great, I can see that.”
“I wanted to make them from scratch. With love.”
“You are.”
“They’re easy,” you insist, turning back to your task with a distressed look on your face. You squeeze the butter a little harder, the wet noises of your mixing speeding up. The butter’s wrapped ends crinkle. “It just needs more butter.”
Very suddenly, you drop the bar inside the bowl, holding its greasy wrapper between your middle and index. Jamie winces as it plops in, some of the mix drooling onto the counter.
Nodding happily, you shove both hands inside the too-small bowl and look at him over your shoulder with a grin. “See?” You wince when your nails glide into the cold middle, recovering quickly in a facade of surety.
He nods, eyebrows uneven in light concern, but encourages you anyway, trying not to shudder at the sound before you decide you’re finished and begin pouring it onto a hot pan already smeared with more butter.
It’s both too runny and too thick, creating a wavy circle in the center of your pan. You frown at it, looking at your batter again. “Jamie?”
“Yeah?”
“That doesn’t look very right, does it?”
Jamie loops an arm around your waist and presses a noisy kiss to your cheek. “I like it. Like a flower.”
“A wobbly flower,” you comment, leaning toward it, “that’s not bubbling.”
“I don’t think they’re supposed to bubble, love.”
“Inverse bubbling,” you explain. “Nothing is happening, is it on?”
Jamie turns the knob very gently, satisfied when it rotates easily. “Yeah. Give it a second.”
“It’s not doing the thing!” you exclaim, grabbing the spatula and flipping it too early. Jamie watches as it splatters part of the stove and streaks a thin line across the counter. He breathes in, about to say something, and decides against it.
“It’s bubbling,” you say optimistically, sheepish at its ends.
You’re correct. Thin, popped-bubble circles peek out from the edges of the lump-petals. “Huh,” Jamie says inquisitively, leaning in. “That’s interestin’.”
Your brows knit. “I think that’s good.”
Jamie is inclined to disagree, but he refuses to.
“It’s browning really quickly,” you observe, turning it over. It’s splotchy, but it should be fully cooked. You plop it on a plate, lips pinching and face struggling to stay proud.
“It smells edible. Could even say good,” Jamie comforts.
“It’s the bacon.” You say solemnly, poking at it with your spatula, its sizzling soft and barely beginning.
“No,” he says stubbornly, edged hair poking the curve of your arm. 
You pluck a fork from your cupboard and cut a neat square of pancake, popping it into your mouth. Jamie watches you chew amusedly, raising an eyebrow when you look down at your flapjack forlornly, a defeated realization on your face.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
You swallow solemnly, meeting his eyes. “I forgot the sugar.”
Jamie inhales, the air stuttering in his throat before shifting into a laugh. You look so sad, and he wraps you up in his arms, kissing your temple through soft laughter. You slump into his chest.
“It was not good,” you admit. “It was really gross.”
“I love ya,” he tells you, still chuckling. “You—” he snorts, “You’re great, you know that?”
“This is awful, Jamie,” you moan, making him laugh harder against the crown of your hair. 
“It’s not,” Jamie insists. “We still have the bacon.” He giggles and you watch him, pointy strands of hair prodding his cheekbones.
“Where’s your headband?” you ask, lowering the heat on the stove to turn to the man next to you. You cup a side of his jaw with your hand and pull hair away from his face with a frown.
“Broken.” He mimics your motions, both of his hands flat against your cheeks and squeezing with a careful mischief.
Breakfast failure forgotten, you huff, dropping your fingers to circle around his wrist and pulling him to your bathroom. You lead him inside and push his shoulders to sit him down. He watches as you pull little boxes out of the cabinet, hooking an index inside and pulling out random colors of bands, big and small.
You find a yellow-lined one that seems appropriate and turn to him again. “This should fit even you and your big head,” you murmur affectionately, gently combing his hair back to tug it on. He shuts his eyes when you drag it over his face, pinkies keeping it from brushing against even the highest of his pretty features. You use your index to fix his sliced brow, marriage fixing the band to fit his face. You drop a sweet kiss at his hairline, wiping it away as if it left a mark. “Perfect.”
“Thank you,” he says very quietly, light eyes constellating along your pinched lashes and pursed lips.
“I don’t know what you keep doing to these,” you scold playfully, slipping two others, a glittery blue one and a speckled pink, out of your tray to hand to him.
“Me big head,” he reasons, the left edge of his lips quirking up at your laugh.
“Probably,” you say.
He stares at you for nearly a second before realizing he has no reason to hold back, the heat of his palms grazing your ears when he kisses you.
You hum, delighted, and hook your arms around his waist. “Jamie,” you murmur, nudging his nose with yours.
He laughs against you, pulling away to see your confusion. “You taste like batter.”
You grimace. “Not very good?”
"You always taste good," he rebuts easily, stealing another kiss. He smiles at you when he pulls away, that wonderfully insolent lid to his eyes. You are putty in his hands. He knows this too well.
You twirl a blond strand of his hair around your finger. “Did you use that hair mask I got you?”
“A li’l while ago. Worked great.” He presses his lips against the hard hill of your cheek.
“You’re supposed to use it regularly.”
“Can you do it?”
“Right now? You don’t have enough time, babe.”
“Then when I come home.”
“Sure. We can use those cucumber things I’ve been meaning to try out, too.”
“Can’t wait,” he tells you, crushing you in a sudden hug. You laugh in surprise, going limp in his arms.
“What has gotten into you?” you ask, wriggling in his hold when he presses open-mouthed kisses to the thin skin of your neck.
“I can’t touch ya now?” he teases, a cruel finger digging into your ribs. You squeal, twisting away from him. He only catches your cheek, biting above your jaw with just enough pressure to sting. 
“When has that ever happened?” you challenge, turning your face to finally catch his lips.
“Does right now count?” he asks against your mouth, diving back in to press a harsh kiss to your bottom lip.
“Right now is not an example,” you laugh, quiet. His palm smooths over your cheek. 
“Agree to disagree,” he offers with one last kiss. “‘Cuz I like ya.”
You snort, pushing him away. He doesn’t let you, dragging his hands down to your waist and keeping them there. “I’m honored.”
He shakes hair away from his eyes, giving up when it does little. You raise an index finger to do it for him when the fire alarm shriekingly cuts in. It bumps harmlessly against the rise of his eyebrow, landing very sorrowfully in sorry circles on his temple when you and he flinch.
You turn your face away from him and toward the door. It only takes you a moment to realize what is going on, the smell of burnt bacon sudden and harsh.
“Fuck,” you say, scrambling to the kitchen.
Your breakfast is but a dark chunk of coal when you arrive, plumes of smoke gathering at the ceiling like a flipped waterfall. You turn off the stove and wince at your tragedy while Jamie shuts off the alarm and opens the doors, pulling you away from the worst of the fog after too long of your lingering.
“You’ll inhale smoke,” he warns.
“It's the only edible part of our breakfast,” you say mournfully.
“Not anymore.”
You snort and lean against him, pouting at your little garden still clothed in the residue of pale moonlight. The flowers haven’t even opened their petals yet. “I’m sorry you won’t get bacon for breakfast today. Or flapjacks.”
“S’okay.” Jamie shrugs, genuine pleasantry leaning delight. “I’m distractin’. You got distracted.”
“So did you,” you oppose.
“You’re distractin’ too.” He grins at you, dropping a swift kiss along your forehead.
“I’ll drop you something off today,” you amend.
“You don’t hav’ta do that, love.”
“I want to. I’ll go to that cafe and get you one of those sandwiches you like. And cookies.” Your smile goes gooey. “Maybe a cinnamon roll.”
Jamie raises an amused eyebrow. “Alright, then.”
You inhale deeply, face contorting at the smoky vignette it comes with. “Do you think the smoke went up to our room?”
“Probably. Stay out here for a little after I leave.”
You moan at the stars. “It’s like five AM. It’s cold out here.”
A loud noise erupts from the opposite end of the house; Roy has arrived.
“He’s earlier than usual,” Jamie muses.
“Give him some of the leftover eggs,” you urge. “And apologize.”
Jamie stares at you quizzically. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I told him I’d send breakfast today and because none of it is fit for human consumption, I’m sending something we bought yesterday.”
“You talk about my breakfast with Roy Kent?” Jamie sputters.
You glare at him, rushing inside to collect the container. “I feel as though you’ve missed the point.” The smoke that continues to linger rushes hatefully into your throat. “Not your breakfast. His breakfast.”
“What? Why?” Jamie asks no one, staring at the little case of eggs you shove into his hands.
“Because I thought it would be nice for him to have one.” You give his dazed face his goodbye kiss before opening the door. Roy stands in your doorway, clearly impatient. He gives you a tight smile.
“Hello.” You smile, some smoke rippling from behind you. 
“Hello,” Roy says, slanting two fingers in greeting. He watches the plumes swirl around you with an upturned bushy eyebrow.
You wave it away. “Sorry, we had a little incident.” 
You shove Jamie out the door. Roy watches him stumble beside him. “No rush.”
Jamie turns to him, nose wrinkling. “Right. The poundin’ of the door really says that.”
Roy rolls his eyes. “You haven’t seen me impatient, Tartt.”
“Will I?” Jamie dares, glancing at you. “By the way—totally unrelated—lovely, lovely y/n’s sent you some breakfast today.”
Roy follows his line of sight and growls. “No,” he answers.
Jamie steps closer to you with a cheeky smile and kisses you goodbye. “Love ya.”
“I love you too. Have fun. Be nice,” you tell him.
“Tell that to Kent!”
“I’m nice,” Roy grunts. “I’m like a fucking golden retriever.”
“I can see that,” you nod supportively. 
Roy juts a thumb toward you.
Jamie shakes his head, lips parted. “I don’t like this.”
“And I don’t fuckin’ care,” Roy buts in. “Let’s go.” He ducks his chin at you respectfully. “Y/n.”
You mimic his motion. “Roy.”
Jamie looks between you two, an index gesturing lazily. "Stop that."
“How about you stop blabberin’ and start runnin’?”
“I’ll see you later, Jamie,” you assure, pulling him in for one last kiss. “I recommend you run, babe.”
“Me too,” Roy barks, a few steps away. “Babe.”
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yelena-bellova · 7 months
Text
Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eighteen
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Chapter Eighteen: Free
Plot: The morning after Y/n and Jamie’s heartbreaking talk, an unexpected savior shows up on Y/n’s door, leaving her at a crossroads.
Word Count: 6.8k
Warnings: f!reader, language, mention of child neglect/abuse, mention of sex
A/N: THIS IS IT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS THE CHAPTER. I’m so excited for you guys to read this one and have all your questions answered. I hope the payoff is as sweet as you’ve been expecting. Y’all have been so enthusiastic over the last few chapters, it really makes me smile. Enjoy!! ❤️💙💛
———————
Heartache could spread through the body just as easily as illness. Y/n’s head was fogged, her limbs hurt and she felt nauseous the second she opened her eyes.
Somehow she managed to call room service and order breakfast, plain toast and coffee, before falling back into bed. The clock read 10AM, she hasn’t slept that long in years. Then again, there wasn’t much sleep had.
The weight of Jamie’s confession weighed in her chest just as heavily as the moment he’d made it. She’d been up till some unholy hour, replaying the whole thing. His words, the quiver in his voice, his lips against her face…it reduced Y/n fits of tears, breaking her over and over.
There was no question as to whether she should skip the match or not. Not only did she have no desire to be around people, but she didn’t want to mess with Jamie’s head any more than she already had. She was worried enough she’d already cost him the game.
A rhythmic knock at her door signaled room service arriving. Y/n trudged across the room and opened the door, expecting to meet the waiter.
Instead, she got Ted, comically lifting the lid off the platter.
“Mornin’ sunshine!”
Y/n sighed, smiling as much as she could, which wasn’t very much.
Ted, however, found himself hilarious. “Room service fella was about to knock right as I was walkin’ by. Thought I’d have some fun with it.”
“Of course,” Y/n gestured to the room, “Come on in.”
Ted set the tray down on the table before turning back to Y/n, who was already moving to the other side of the room. There was a stiffness to her posture, as if she’d allowed a home invader in. Ted was well familiarized with her character, but he hadn’t seen her so reserved since she first started at Richmond.
“So what’s up?” Y/n asked, her tone devoid of any life.
“Oh, I just wanted to check up on you,” Ted shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets, “Haven’t seen ya in a while.”
“Yeah, things have been busy.”
“I bet,” Ted smiled, “You and Keeley must be kickin’ butt over there. The Dynamic Duo, but with gobs more style.”
Y/n chucked politely, playing with her hands out of nervousness.
Ted waited, watching as Y/n tried to dodge his line of vision. He didn’t expect an explanation to fly out of her mouth, but she was clearly on edge. His chances of waiting her out were decent.
“Well, we’re all glad you’re back,” Ted added, “Owner’s box has been lonely without you, I’ll bet.”
Y/n shut her eyes, it made the lying easier. “Yeah, Ted, I don’t think I can make this one.”
His face didn’t fall an inch, “Oh no. Something wrong?”
“Yeah, I just didn’t get much sleep,” she continued, that part was true. She thought she remembered the clock reading 5AM around the time exhaustion took over.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Ted played along, “I know the boys miss havin’ you around.”
Y/n slipped around the topic, walking to the window. “They excited for today?”
“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “Revved up and ready to go.”
“That’s good,” she kicked her foot against the wall and diverted her gaze to the curtains. “How’s, uh…how’s Jamie?”
Ted studied Y/n, taking in her fidgeting hands and the exaggerated effort to her words. As hard as she tried, Y/n wasn’t that good an actress.
“He’s alright,” Ted answered, “Bit off, y’know. Little bit like you.”
With every word exchanged, Y/n could feel Ted unraveling the whole thing. He could see right through her.
“That’s too bad,” she said, her voice wobbling. The tears that she’d fallen asleep with were reawakening.
“Yeah, it is,” Ted agreed, “I sure hope he figures out whatever’s botherin’ him before the game.”
“Mm-hmm,” Y/n hummed, feeling like she couldn’t breathe, “He’s got a lot of people counting on him.”
“Yeah, but that ain’t as big a deal,” Ted took a seat on the edge of Y/n’s bed. “I’m more concerned with him, y’know. Why he’s hurtin’.”
Ted noticed Y/n’s shoulders begin to tremble.
“Why he’s keepin’ whatever it is to himself rather than leanin’ on somebody.”
Y/n wiped her hands over her face, her cheeks wet with guilt. She had finally reached it, her dreaded breaking point.
She turned to Ted, who looked at her as only a father could. He knew.
“You wanna tell me anything goin’ on?”
Crossing the room and sinking down on the mattress next to Ted, Y/n softly sobbed.
“Is it Jamie?” Ted asked.
Y/n bit her lip.
“Is it us?”
She sniffled.
“Whole enchilada?”
Y/n’s trembled as she inhaled, “I’m scared, Ted.”
“Of what?”
“This,” she gestured around them, “Richmond. This whole thing.”
Ted waited for her to explain further.
“I grew up having to fight for every shred of attention,” Y/n continued, “Doing everything I could to get my parents to…care. And no matter what I did, they never loved me. Not like parents are supposed to love their kids. And when I realized that, I just…shut everyone out. In high school, in college…and it worked. I was safe. I didn’t have to worry about getting hurt.”
“And then I…” Y/n paused, the happy memory washing over her, “I met these two women in a bar and they offered me a job. And suddenly, I’m a part of this sport that I never cared about and there’s this…family I never asked for. And it should have made me happy,” she grasped her stomach, “But it scared me, Ted. It fucking terrified me because you were all so kind and welcoming and you just took me in.”
She stopped to take a breath, “And then Jamie just…” Y/n sniffled, “He just…happened. And that was the scariest part because…”
She couldn’t say the words. Just like 12 hours before, she still couldn’t physically force them out of her body. But somehow, even without speaking, the sentiment got across.
“Hey,” Ted slid an arm around Y/n’s shoulders. His dad mode had been activated.
For the first time in a long time, Y/n allowed herself to be held as she weeped.
“It’s okay,” Ted soothed, rubbing a hand over her arm, “You’re okay.”
After hours of crying underneath her sheets, Y/n thought she had nothing left to give. But the comfort of another person’s presence created a whole new wave. She was letting down from years of self-determination to conquer her pain on her own.
“Y’know,” Ted said after a moment, “Openin’ yourself up’s one of the scariest things in the world. Anyone who says otherwise’s never really done much hurting. But it’s worth it.”
“How do you know that?” Y/n whimpered.
“You don’t,” Ted stated, “No way to know what’ll happen before it happens. But if you don’t take the risk of gettin’ hurt, you’ll never end up with anything worth having. Just how life works.”
“But y’know,” he sighed, “Where we work…it’s kinda the exception. The people there’re some of the best I’ve ever known. They don’t let you down.”
Y/n’s tears were slowing in speed, but not intensity.
“Know how our right reverend Mr. Rojas likes to say that football is life?” Ted earned a slight smile from Y/n, “Same goes for AFC Richmond. These people’re gonna stick by you through thick and thin. Once you’re a part of the family, you’re there. Doesn’t matter if you wanna be. It’s up to you whether you let ‘em in..but they’re gonna love you whether you like it or not. It’s a heck of a lot easier to just let ‘em.”
Throughout the years, Y/n had lacked many relationships, but that of a parent was the one she’d longed for the most. She needed someone to help guide her, to lovingly correct her when she was making the biggest mistakes of her life. In the moment she needed it most, Ted fit the role perfectly.
Without any prompting, Y/n slipped her arms around Ted’s neck and hugged him.
Ted returned and received it, he’d been going through it too. As true as ever, helping someone out of their pit stitched a little piece of him back together as well. He wanted Y/n to succeed in everything she did and he believed without a doubt that she could. But he wanted her to be happy, truly happy, more than anything.
“Thank you,” she whispered over his shoulder.
“No thanks needed,” he smiled, “I got your back.”
Y/n let go of him slowly and hesitantly. It was 10:30, the match was less than two hours away. “You need to go.”
“I do,” Ted replied, patting her shoulder before standing up, “You think you’re gonna stop by for a bit now? Cheer us on?”
Grimacing slightly, Y/n ducked her head towards the floor.
“C’mon now,” Ted clicked his tongue, “I thought we just made progress.”
Y/n chuckled and wiped under her eyes.
“Well, I hope you change your mind.”
Ted left Y/n with plenty to mediate on and strolled back into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He could lead her to victory, but he couldn’t hand her the win.
Y/n stayed on the bed’s edge a long while after Ted left, contemplating all he’d said. She was at what was potentially the most important crossroads of her life. Heeding Ted’s advice held the possibility of more heartache, more loss, more feelings of inadequacy. But didn’t her isolation already offer that in spades? Wasn’t she hurting enough on her own? Tearing herself down at every opportunity? How could anything possibly be worse than that?
But she had felt worse, twelve hours ago. Breaking Jamie’s heart after he’d poured his out to her had crushed her. She’d hurt him so deeply in the name of self preservation. Walking away from him was the most difficult thing she’d ever done. The worst part was that it was totally avoidable. If she’d have told him that she loved him too, they’d have been saved so much pain. Jamie wouldn’t have had to endure her rejection, Y/n wouldn’t have lost the most important person in her life. The blame was entirely hers.
It wasn’t just Jamie. Y/n was so tired of keeping Keeley at arm’s length. She craved her weekly tea with Rebecca. She missed problem solving with Higgins. She wanted to laugh with Ted and talk life with Beard and annoy Roy. She wanted to go to movies with Sam and drink with Dani and have lunches with Colin. She wanted to cheer the boys on at games and celebrate with them after.
She wanted to win and lose with all of them.
She wanted to be a part of their family.
But to do so, she had to heal her first one.
Before she knew what she was doing, Y/n grabbed her phone off her nightstand. She scrolled through her contacts, even though she had memorized the number in hopes that would somehow equal a call. She pressed the name and dialed.
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Y/n hadn’t expected them to pick up. It was 4-something AM where they were.
The familiar message played, asking her to leave her name and number.
Finally, the machine beeped.
“Hi…it’s me…” she started, suddenly nervous, “It’s Y/n. I know it’s early there, I don’t even know if you are there but…I needed to do this.”
Y/n drew a quick breath, it was now or never. “You guys really fucked me up. Me and Caylee. I mean, we’re really screwed up because of you. Maybe she’s doing better than me, maybe I’m the only one who’s still not over all of it but…you really messed up. And maybe you know that, maybe you don’t, but it’s the truth. I am…” she paused, “So broken because you two couldn’t love me. No— you know what,” her voice gained strength, “You could have loved me. You didn’t. For whatever reason, you didn’t. I did everything I possibly could to earn your love, and I never got it. And that’s fucked up.”
Her anger hastened her heartbeat, urging Y/n to go on. “And I don’t know how to forgive you for that. I know it’s possible, worse people have done worse things and they’ve somehow found a way to still be a family, but…I want to. If not for you guys, for me,” her chest’s rise and falls had evened out, “Because I’m tired of being broken. I’m tired of pushing everybody away. I’m tired of thinking that there’s something unlovable about me. I’m tired of thinking that being alone is somehow better than having people that care about you, and I’m tired of being scared,” Y/n threw her free arm out at her side and laughed, “I’m so tired of being scared.”
“None of this probably makes any sense to you, but, ” she sighed, “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to keep doing this. Only talking on my birthday, seeing you every couple years, not knowing what’s going on in your lives…I don’t want that. I want to know you. I want to come home for Christmas. I want to share my life with you. And if you can’t do that then…I don’t want anything.”
Her own words shocked her, was she really potentially kicking her parents out of her life?
“Because I’ve built a really amazing life here,” she said, her voice faltered with emotion, “With amazing people and they love me. They really love me and I’m crazy about them. And I want you guys to be a part of it,” she exhaled and felt the tears rock forward in her eyes, “And if you don’t want that, that’s okay. I’ll be alright because I have them.”
Y/n sighed, feeling the weight of a lifetime lift off her chest.
“I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad,” she continued, “And I hope you love me, for once, more than you do anything else.”
Y/n lowered the phone, staring at the call time. 2 minutes and 10 seconds was all it had taken. “Bye.”
The moment she disconnected, the room suddenly came to life. There was color to the walls and texture to the curtains. There was light shining in through the window and the smell of the coffee on its tray filled the room.
Y/n was free.
Lightened by the release of her life’s pain, the decision at hand became so clear. Y/n flipped on the hotel television, switching the channel to Sky Sports. The match was already into its second half and the Greyhounds were up by one goal.
She did the math in her head. The stadium was ten minutes away. She could still make it.
Flying across the room, Y/n dug through her suitcase for any clothes that weren’t pajamas. She emptied the contents onto her bed only to spot a familiar piece of fabric tucked in one of the compartments.
Y/n unfolded it.
Jamie’s jersey. Still packed from Wembley.
She laughed under her breath, the coincidence of it all was too perfect.
Y/n slipped on the oversized shirt, same as the last time. She threw on jeans and sneakers, grabbing her phone and coat before racing out her hotel room.
The elevator would take too long, she decided, so she sped down the stairs from the sixth floor all the way to the lobby. Jamie hadn’t been the only one to benefit from Roy’s training sessions.
Y/n bolted out the front doors of the hotel and ran to the sidewalk, waving her hands wildly to the cabs that drove by. Eventually, one stopped for her.
“Where to, love?”
“Ethiad Stadium,” Y/n answered as she hopped in the backseat, “Quick as you can.”
The cabbie got back in his lane and took her the way of the stadium. Y/n buzzed in the backseat, adrenaline pulsing through her veins at what she was doing.
“Could you put the match on?” She asked, most of them were typically broadcasted on the radio.
The driver flipped the station till he found the correct one. Y/n listened intently from the backseat, hanging on every word.
Halfway to the stadium, the cab hit typical game day traffic. After waiting impatiently a few minutes, the commentators announced there were twenty minutes left on the clock. If nothing changed in the next thirty seconds, Y/n would miss it entirely.
“You know what,” she reached into her coat pocket, picking a few bills from her wallet and throwing them in the front seat, “Keep the change.”
Y/n ignored the confused calls of the driver as she slid out the backseat into traffic. She ran through the lines of cars until she hit sidewalk. With every slap of her foot against the sidewalk, she could feel Ted’s words penetrate her heart even further. This was what she was supposed to feel.
The sight of Ethiad Stadium welcomed her. Guided by signage, she sprinted to the back entrance she’d usually come through with Rebecca and Keeley. Her sneakers practically screeched across the marble floor, slowing down only for the metal detector and security pat-down.
“Y/n Y/l/n,” Y/n recited her name to the liaison holding a guest list, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”
“Ah,” the young man located her, “Welcome to Ethiad Stadium, Miss-“
Y/n was off before he could finish, bolting up the staircase that would lead her to the VIP box.
She pushed past guests dressed far nicer than her and slid through gaps half her size. Somewhere along the way, Arlo White and Chris Park’s voices became clearer. They were being played through the stadium’s sound system.
“Tartt tried to soldier on, but now he’s in some distress and may require attention.”
Y/n’s steps slowed, pausing in the busy hall to listen properly.
“The med team is helping him off the field. It looks like Richmond may be in trouble.”
Never in her life had Y/n run faster.
Arriving at the VIP box, she rushed up to the security guard.
“Ticket please.”
“I don’t have one,” Y/n panted, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”
“Sorry, love,” the burly man shook his head, “Can’t let you in without a ticket.”
“No, no, no, I’m PR,” Y/n insisted, “I need to get in there now.”
The security guard was unmovable, taking a firm stance in the doorway to block her. “I can’t allow you in without a ticket, ma’am.”
With Jamie injured, there was a new recklessness to Y/n’s urgency. She didn’t quite care what she had to do to get in. She jumped in place to see over the guard’s shoulder, spotting the top of Rebecca’s coiffed hair and Keeley’s curls.
“There! There’s my bosses!” Y/n exclaimed, surging forward through the tiny space between the man and the door.
He pulled her back and away from getting any further, “You can’t enter without a ticket. If you don’t leave now-“
“Rebecca!” Y/n shouted, “Keeley! Keeley! Rebecca!”
She was loud enough that both women, plus Higgins, turned around in their seats. The sight of Y/n struggling against the security guard must have frightened them more than she’d intended.
Rebecca rushed through the room, “Let her go! Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“You know this woman?” The guard asked, still holding Y/n back as if she were some crazed fan.
“She works with me,” Keeley scolded, having followed Rebecca, “Get your fucking hands off her.”
The guard released Y/n quickly, eager to avoid any more reprimanding. “I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he addressed her, “Go on in.”
Y/n launched herself into Rebecca’s waiting arms, exhausted but charging off once more with the women.
“We thought you weren’t coming,” Keeley said as they rushed back to their seats.
Ignoring any and all things around her, Y/n ran down the steps of the box and threw herself against the railing. Jamie. Where was Jamie?
Down by the side of the pitch, he was laid out with the physios working on his ankle. Whatever move he’d pulled had cost him something terrible.
“What happened?” Y/n asked, unaware of who she was asking.
“He stopped a goal and landed wrong,” Keeley explained, slipping into the seat beside Y/n’s, “They just brought him off.”
Y/n clutched the railing with a vice-like grip, her eyes never leaving Jamie. She could see he was breathing hard, that his body clenched with every touch the physios made. He’d never been injured on the pitch this bad.
The game, however, couldn’t stop for one player. Ted made the call to play with ten men for the time being while Jamie rested. The Greyhounds held their own, Van Damme in particular blocking nearly every goal. But all Man City needed was one goal to tie things up and take the league title.
“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n mumbled as if she could will him to rally, “Come on.”
When the medics had done everything they could, Ted kneeled down next to Jamie. They appeared to be in deep conversation, Y/n would have killed to be on the other side, encouraging Jamie back onto the pitch. Whatever Ted was saying had to help. The team didn’t stand a chance if it didn’t.
“Get up, get up, get up,” she whispered, “Jamie, please get up.”
In perfect timing, Jamie extended a hand to Ted, who helped get him to his feet. Y/n held her breath as he bore weight on his ankle and exhaled when he didn’t buckle.
“Yes,” she clapped.
Ted went back to Beard and Roy, and Jamie took his time getting back on the pitch. The Man City fans livened up and began booing their former striker.
With her emotions driving her, Y/n turned to the sections around hers. “Oh, fuck off!”
Jamie shared her sentiment, taking the hate as well as the praise. He egged them on further and encouraged the taunts, jutting his tongue out and beating on his chest.
“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n cheered. There was no way for him to see or hear her, but she stayed up and screaming as if she were right beside him.
Jamie made it back to the pitch and the match resumed. Van Damme blocked another goal with spectacular skill and got the ball over to Isaac. Isaac kicked it across the field to Jamie, who controlled it masterfully.
Y/n’s breath hung in her chest as he moved across the field. Before her eyes, he came back to his truest self. This was him at his very best. This was Jamie playing for no one but himself and it was beautiful.
Jamie avoided every single City player that tried to steal the ball away. Making it to the net, he sent the ball flying and the whole stadium froze.
It soared past the goalie, a perfect shot.
The Greyhounds pounced on their teammate, hugging and slapping him on the back. The entire crowd went wild, the Richmond fans lost their minds.
“YES!!” Y/n threw her hands in the air, “JAMIE!!”
Keeley, Rebecca and Higgins jumped to their feet, cheering and screaming. Y/n and Keeley reached for one another and squealed.
Jamie chose the honorable route and didn’t make a big deal over the goal against his former club. When the boys let go of him, the ref blew his whistle and held up the sub board. Roberts was coming on, Jamie was coming off.
It was the most extraordinary way to leave a match, and Jamie was in a bit of pain. He wasn’t going to argue with the decision. But he hadn’t expected the Man City half of the stadium to change their tune. When their boos morphed to cheers, his eyes glistened with lifelong tears.
It had been a long road to get to a point where Jamie could play for himself. He’d spent all his years working to prove his father wrong, using his hatred as motivation to grow his skills. When he’d exhausted that option, he found himself a man without a country. He wasn’t sure what to do.
Then Y/n had shattered his heart.
He’d woken up with very little motivation to play. Their goodbye had added edge to all his fears. Mixed with the possibility of seeing his father, it was a miracle Jamie could move. But he was a fighter till the end, and even if he was a wreck, he would still give 110%. That was his gift.
As he looked up into the stands, despite everything, he wished Y/n was there to celebrate with him.
Little did he know, Y/n was crying tears of pride on the second level. She watched Jamie walk off the field feeling her heart completely tied to his. He’d proved everyone, even himself, wrong.
The game ended soon after that, with Richmond coming out on top. They had earned their spot in the last game of the season and a chance at the Premier League title. Y/n, Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins fell into an group hug.
“Hey, hey,” Y/n pulled out of Keeley’s arms and locked eyes, “You’re my best friend.”
Keeley’s gaze grew teary. She didn’t know what had changed in Y/n since the night before, but she welcomed it and hugged her tighter.
“And you,” Y/n reached over to Rebecca, “You’re just so fucking amazing.”
Rebecca laughed and wrapped an arm around Y/n, lovingly kissing her hair. Her friend was back from wherever she’d disappeared to.
“Oh,” Y/n grabbed hold of Higgins and grinned, “I love working with you so much.”
Higgins embraced her and shouted over the crowd. “Good to have you back.”
As much as she adored them, Y/n’s eyes fell downwards to the pitch. Jamie was celebrating amidst the boys, but they were about to leave.
Keeley followed her gaze, “Go. They’ll take him to the med room.”
Y/n’s face dropped, realizing that she had made a huge faux pas towards Keeley she hadn’t even considered.
Keeley could read the worry before it crossed Y/n’s lips. “Oi, fuck off,” she laughed, “Go get him.”
She didn’t need to hear anything else. Y/n took off running.
She sprinted through the stadium, weaving in and out of the crowd until she hit the authorized personnel area guarded by security.
“I’m with AFC Richmond,” Y/n breathed, exhausted by the effort expended. She reached into her wallet, “I have proof.”
She held up the employee ID and let the guard examine it.
“Go ahead,” the taller one slid to the side.
Y/n rushed through the glass doors. This was one of the only stadiums she hadn’t been to and she didn’t know her way. She peeked through every door until she found the physio room. Neither the medics nor Jamie were back yet.
Jamie hobbled down the hall, assisted by the physios that had aided him on the field. The adrenaline of the game was starting to wear off and he was looking forward to getting off his foot.
They opened the door to the back room to reveal the last person he expected to see.
Y/n spun around and their eyes met, fear suddenly taking hold of her. In her mad dash to the stadium, overcome with emotion, she hadn’t taken into consideration that Jamie may not have wanted to see her.
“Ma’am,” one of the medics spoke up, “You can’t be back here.”
Jamie was dazed, from the thrill of the match and Y/n’s presence. He took clumsy steps toward her, stuck in the magnetic pull they had on one another.
Y/n cautiously moved forward, terrified of what could come next. Jamie had every right to throw her out and never speak to her again. She almost wanted him to, to make her regret ever turning him away. Deserving seemed like too plain a word. She had earned his indifference.
But in the way Jamie’s eyes traced her face, warm and familiar, shocked and relieved, she knew that wasn’t the case.
They fell into each other’s arms without a single word.
“I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered through her tears, “I’m so sorry.”
Jamie buried his face in her neck, unable to do any more than absorb her. She was here. She was here.
Y/n, however, had so much to say. She urgently guided his head up to face her, tears welling in both their eyes. In that moment, telling the truth never seemed simpler.
“I love you.”
Jamie’s mouth curled upwards, searching her face in shock.
“I love you so much,” Y/n confessed, holding his cheeks, “I’m so sorry for what I said.”
She was cut off by Jamie, pressing his lips fervently into hers.
Neither of them could clearly remember the kisses they’d shared during their one night together. They certainly couldn’t count them. But this, this held all the glory and promise of a first kiss. Months of tension and longing they didn’t know they’d felt were poured out, replaced by sweet relief.
With his brain hazy and high, Jamie backed them up towards the physio table. The first step he took on his ankle made him wince, but he didn’t break from their kiss.
“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” Y/n pulled away, smiling breathlessly, “Ankle.”
“Don’t care,” he mumbled as he chased after her lips.
Y/n giggled, letting him steal a few more sloppy kisses. She wasn’t in a place to deny him anything.
When Jamie did eventually pull back, he nudged his nose against Y/n’s, breathing her in. “You only back here ‘cause I won it for us?”
“You caught me,” Y/n ran a hand through the back of his hair, “I’d have slipped right back out if you hadn’t.”
Jamie grinned and stroked a hand over her head. Now that he had her as close as he’d craved, he wanted to touch as much as he could. He looked down between them and spotted the familiar blue and red.
“I swear, magic shit happens when you wear this thing,” Jamie rubbed the fabric between his fingers.
Y/n rested her forehead on Jamie’s shoulder, shaking with laughter.
“I’m a fucking genius for buying it,” he beamed, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hair. “I love you so much.”
Knuckles rapped against the door and someone cleared their throat. At some point, the medics had left and returned.
“Mr. Tartt,” one said, “We do need to check your ankle.”
Y/n removed herself from being pinned between the table and Jamie. Jamie dropped his hands to hold hers, unwilling to lose full contact as he took a seat. The physios had a difficult time working with Jamie’s constant movement, trying to pull Y/n in for kiss after kiss.
All things considered, Jamie got off lucky. A brace was wrapped around his ankle and he was advised to use crutches for the next few days. Jamie heard most of their instructions…well, some. He’d more distractedly spare the medics a glance before looking back to Y/n, who memorized all their warnings.
When they left once more, giving Jamie a minute to rest, he tugged Y/n between his legs and wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/n tucked herself into his chest, holding his head as it dug into the side of hers.
There was so much to say, so much to explain, but neither one could think straight enough for any of it. All they wanted to do was hold each other, reveling in the sweet relief of longing being exchanged for love.
—————————
Back at the hotel, Y/n packed both hers and Jamie’s room while he rested on the Coach. She’d handed his suitcase off to Will before heading to her own car, regretting her decision not to join the team bus considering how the trip was ending.
Jamie got Y/n on the phone the second they pulled out of the hotel. She’d insisted he ride back with the boys, but he was more insistent on not being apart for a second. They spent very little time talking as the phone got passed around, each of the Greyhounds wanting to speak to Y/n after so many weeks with no contact.
Keeley and Rebecca coveted the mobile the longest, badgering her for as many details as Y/n would give them on how her and Jamie had come to be. Y/n revealed precious little information, both because she was still retracing the sequence of events herself and because she didn’t feel like telling the entire team just yet.
Along the way, Kenneth the bus driver and Y/n were weaving between lanes together, switching spots in front on one another. The boys could be heard shouting for Kenneth to drive faster so they could beat her. Y/n smiled and laughed the whole way back to Richmond, lighter than she’d been in years.
They pulled into Nelson Road Stadium late, but full of energy. The Greyhounds poured out of the bus toting champagne bottles, singing and chanting as loud as they could. Man City was their great white whale, and they’d beaten them so spectacularly, they deserved a fucking celebration.
Y/n moved around the physio room while Jamie was in the locker room, setting up a bucket of ice water for his ankle, per the medic’s instructions. She headed down the hall to retrieve him after, running into the boys changed into their dress clothes.
“Looking good,” she complimented.
The stragglers cheered and hung back to hug Y/n, Isaac picking her up and spinning her around. Richard pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“Hey,” Colin grew serious and pointed a finger towards her, “You owe us an explanation for where you’ve been.”
“Yeah, not cool,” Isaac agreed, setting her back down.
“I know, I know,” Y/n chuckled, “You’ll get one. But tonight,” she gestured to the door, “Go make a big fat mess of headlines for me to clean up.”
They cheered rowdily before heading out the door, leaving Y/n beaming. She was home.
She slipped into the locker room, Jamie was seated in his assigned spot, fidgeting. She knocked softly on the door.
“Come on, superstar,” she held out a hand.
Jamie smiled coyly, “Where you takin’ me?”
“I’m making sure Richmond has a fighting chance next weekend,” Y/n replies, helping him to his feet, “Can’t afford to lose you before you beat the shit out of West Ham.”
Jamie wrapped an arm around Y/n’s shoulders, much preferring to use her as his brace than the crutches. They took their time getting down the hall and into the physio room.
Y/n went about getting Jamie situated while he typed something into his phone. Once his foot was submerged in the ice, she stood to her full height and asked, “Whatcha doing?”
“Texting me dad,” he answered plainly.
Y/n blinked, “I’m sorry, what?”
Jamie clicked his phone shut and set it aside. They had a lot to catch up on. “When I was down, Coach came and talked to me. Told me that I should forgive me dad,” he quickly held up a hand to Y/n’s worried expression, “Not for him. For me. I’ve been in my head all week ‘cause I felt like I couldn’t be me without hatin’ him. Y’know? But between Coach and mum…I don’t know…I found it again. That thing that made me wanna play in the first place. Not for him, not for anyone…just me.”
Y/n smiled proudly. Jamie’s dad was the permanent thorn in his side. Rather than live with the pain, he was learning to grow around it.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head. It was also deeply ironic that Y/n had made a similar phone call to her parents hours ago. “Just something to tell you later.”
Jamie stroked a hand over her back, “How ‘bout you tell me what made you change your mind?”
Y/n slotted herself between Jamie’s thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck. The new intimacy stole any intention of ever having less than one hand on each other.
“Ted came by my room this morning,” she started, “We had a talk and I…I just realized that I wanted to be with you more than I wanted to stay scared of you.”
Jamie’s brows raised, “Scared of me?”
Y/n nodded and brushed a hand through his hair, “You and all those big feelings…they scare the shit out of me. But I got a taste of what life’s like without you,” she sighed, “And I can’t do it.”
Jamie’s fingers moved against Y/n’s back, he watched and listened intently.
“I raced through the fucking streets for you,” Y/n smiled, “I fought a security guard.”
Snorting at the mental image, Jamie slipped an arm under Y/n’s legs and lifted her onto his lap. She yelped and tightened her hold around him.
“We’re gonna break this table,” Y/n laughed, “And people are going to make assumptions.”
“Let ‘em,” Jamie smirked, eyes full of adoration, “Say it again.”
“I love you,” she whispered joyfully.
He wanted to hear it a million more times and he wanted to say it an equal amount. He captured her lips once more in a soft kiss, content to stay there as long as the world would let them.
The door to the med room squeaked open, “Oh, fuck.”
Jamie and Y/n broke apart, twisting to see Roy and Keeley stood in the doorway.
“You two were annoying before. You’re gonna be fucking unbearable now,” Roy complained.
“Oh, stop it,” Keeley lightly smacked his hand, “They’ve waited this long.”
“What’re you guys doing?” Jamie asked.
“We thought we’d come and keep you company,” Keeley answered.
Roy kicked the door shut and held up an unopened champagne bottle, “Fucking celebrate!”
Keeley squealed and ran over to hug Y/n and Jamie, the three of them embracing one another. “‘Cause that was fucking amazing, Jamie.”
“Yeah, I was fucking amazing,” Jamie agreed, “You’re right.”
Keeley cackled while Y/n dropped her head to Jamie’s shoulder. “Dear God, I don’t think I can handle this ego.”
“Gotten this far,” Roy grumbled, rolling his eyes at his protege.
“We might need to tag team it,” Y/n suggested, “What do you say, Royo?”
“No,” he pointed between Jamie and Y/n, “You signed up for this, he’s your fucking problem.”
Y/n looked down at Jamie, who was already grinning up at her. He’d been her problem for a long long time.
“I’ll make the best of it,” she said, pecking Jamie’s lips.
Roy popped the champagne and he and Keeley pulled up chairs. He offered his ex the bottle, “You start us off.”
“Mmm, don’t mind if I do,” she took a swig.
“Right,” Jamie turned to Roy, “What the fuck happened, man?”
The four of them laughed as the champagne was passed around.
“Did I look sexy?” Jamie asked, turning to Y/n and handing her the bottle, “Babe?”
“I take it all back,” Y/n joked and took a swig, “I’m not ready for this. We’re back to being friends.”
Jamie laughed and tugged her closer to him.
“Shame you weren’t injured in your fucking head, innit?” Roy grinned.
“Right,” Keeley spoke up, “You gonna tell us how this happened? Spare no details?”
Roy took the bottle from Y/n, “You can spare the details.”
Y/n scoffed, “Oh, there’ll be details spared.”
“She just doesn’t want people to know she stole my virtue,” Jamie cheekily smiled, “I get that right, babe?”
Keeley gasped, Roy grunted.
“I will fucking leave you here to freeze to death,” Y/n threatened, “If you ever tell people that’s what happened.”
The foursome stayed put for a good half hour, their raucous laughter bouncing off the walls. Y/n and Jamie explained an edited version of what happened in London to cause such tension at Georgie and Simon’s house. Keeley, surprisingly, didn’t seem to care that she was watching one of her best friends and her ex-boyfriend tell how they’d fallen in love. She was more thrilled than anyone. Roy was less than enthusiastic, but couldn’t hide his smile as he saw how happy Jamie seemed.
When it was time to leave, Roy helped Jamie in to Y/n’s car. He’d need someone to help him around the house for a day or two and there was no one else he wanted to take care of him. They made the twenty minute drive to Jamie’s house non-eventfully, Jamie pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hand at every red light they hit.
Y/n unloaded their bags first, dropping them in the hall, before coming back to help Jamie out of the car. They managed the driveway and the threshold just fine, and the second Y/n had locked the door behind them, Jamie was on her, crushing their lips and bodies together.
After so many months of falling without notice, neither realized just how much love they had for one another until they could express it fully. Like looking through some all-knowing kaleidoscope, everything leading up to that very moment made crystal clear sense. The jealousy, the adoration, the attachment…it had all been leading to this.
All of Jamie’s hard work, his effort to become his best self had mattered. This was the payoff.
Y/n’s long-standing walls crumbled with each touch, never to be rebuilt. Her fear melted at their feet.
They were free of their pasts, belonging only to their future.
————
Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)
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sokkigarden · 9 months
Text
dancing with our hands tied (part i)
jamie tartt x female reader // nsfw 18+ // enemies to lovers // fwb
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masterlist // read on ao3
summary: wearing the jersey of your self-proclaimed enemy wasn't supposed to go like this.
word count: 2.8k
decided to post this fic to tumblr! not sure if i will be doing a taglist, but i will be tagging each part with jamie tartt x reader + jamie tartt smut so if you are following those tags religiously (like me) then you can find it lol. its also on ao3 and will likely get updated there first if you'd like to subscribe that way. big shoutout to @whimsical-roasting for drafting this in our dms in a haze one night LMAO i would not have been able to write this without her<3333
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“No no no, there is no way I’m wearing that.”
Opposite of you, your best friend, Laney, stood with two Richmond jerseys in her hands. One said ‘Tartt’ across the back, the other, ‘McAdoo,’ but you already knew which one she wanted to wear. She had a raging crush on Isaac, so that left only one option for you.
And there was no way you were wearing Jamie Tartt’s fucking jersey.
You would never hear the end of it. As part of the team’s physio team, you had a good rapport with most of the players. You complimented them when they had a good match and joked around while working with them through their physical therapy treatments. 
You had a decent working relationship with everyone on the team. 
Everyone except for Jamie Tartt.
There was no question that since his return to Richmond, he had become a changed man, but his past words had left a lingering resentment. You didn’t think you were in the wrong to simply avoid interacting with the man. He hadn’t often been seen in the treatment room, and when he had, you typically passed off his treatment to another member of the team, along with some flimsy excuse for why you couldn’t do it.
But recently, as he trained more with Coach Kent outside of the dog track, he’d needed additional treatment. And as the new lead of the physio team, you were in charge of his treatment plan. 
In recent months, especially since working more closely with him, he’d started to notice the difference in behavior from you, leading to all sorts of jests and confrontations. Now, it seemed like he just got a kick out of teasing and inevitably pissing you off. You couldn’t help but fire some scathing shots back. What started out as a simple plan of avoidance had clearly backfired.
Now everytime he needed assistance with muscle cramps or pain medication, you got a conversation full of sarcasm and questions. It almost felt like sometimes he came in just to rile you up.
Just last week, Jamie came in to check on his ankle after a bad landing at training. You examined his leg and he made comments the entire time you had your hands on him.
“You know, I get waxed. Weekly. Everywhere.”
You had stumbled ever so slightly as you’d gone to grab an ice pack. You cringed inwardly, knowing this would only add more fuel to Jamie’s fire. You were tired of him getting the best of you, making you flustered. You wanted to fight back.
Turning back to him with the ice pack, you stared at him directly.
“Show me,” you challenged.
Jamie’s face held an incredulous expression.
“You mentioned it— you clearly want to,” you reasoned, shrugging your shoulders, “So show me.” 
You hoped your confidence in calling his bluff worked in your favor, and his face showed that he was clearly surprised by this turn of events. You couldn’t tell what he would do next. He rolled his eyes with that smug smirk on his face before he raised his eyebrows and lifted his shirt up. 
Sure enough, his chest was bare, showing off his sculpted muscles.
Jamie leisurely lounged across the treatment table, chest exposed, and you would be lying if you said your mouth didn’t water a little bit at the sight. Even after being around athletes on a daily basis, there was something about Jamie that just— hit different. His cockiness was surely annoying, but it was also incredibly arousing, as much as you hated to admit it. You felt a squeeze in your chest but you bit your tongue to keep yourself in line. There was no way that thought would ever bear fruit.
You shoved the ice pack into his lap, making sure some of it landed on the bare skin of his stomach, watching as he flinched a little bit at the abrupt action and cold temperature of the pack.
“Ice your ankle for twenty minutes, then stay off it the rest of the day,” you informed him, acting like the last few moments hadn’t happened. “You’ll be good to train tomorrow.”
Jamie scoffed at your indifference. He grasped the ice pack fully and let his shirt slide back down. 
“Sure, love, I’ll do that.” 
He knew you hated it when he called you by a pet name. That only made him use them more. You glanced back at him, staring into his eyes for a moment before you grabbed your bag. 
The tension in the room was palpable before you’d headed out to check on the rest of the players at training. You hadn’t said anything else as you’d left.
So, yeah. There was no way Jamie Tartt would ever let you hear the end of it if you showed up in his jersey number. 
“Oh, come on!” Laney pleaded. “I don’t want to wear a jersey alone.”
“Plenty of people do!”
“Yeah, but plenty of people don’t get to go behind the scenes and actually speak to the players,” she gushed. “I don’t want to meet them and look stupid all alone.”
“So instead, you want me to look stupid with you,” you gave her a flat look.
She smiled mischievously. “What? I thought it would be funny. You complain about him all the time.”
If only she fully comprehended the validity behind your complaints.
You knew there was no way you were ever going to win this fight, so you slipped on the jersey and braced for impact. You were happy to have Laney come along to a game, especially since you didn’t always attend matches and her being a big Richmond fan gave you an excuse to watch. You wanted today to be good, not just for you, but for her too. It was exciting to be able to take your best friend on a little ‘backstage’ tour during gameday. 
You hoped today would be good, and that you wouldn’t have any run-ins with the man who made your blood boil.
Alas, not even twenty minutes later, as you walked into the back of the Nelson Road stadium through the employee entrance, you promptly ran into none other than Jamie Tartt.
“Well well well, I didn’t realize someone was such a big fan,” the familiar Mancunian accent taunted behind you. 
You tried not to visibly cringe as you turned around to face Jamie. He was not yet in his kit, still wearing his street clothes: a monochrome denim set. It was frankly unfair how well the jeans fit him, but you refused to let your gaze linger for more than a few seconds. 
“Oh my, it's the infamous Jamie Tartt,” Laney greeted him playfully. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Your jaw clenched at her words as she reached out to shake his hand. He eagerly accepted.
“Have you?” he asked with a mischievous look in your direction that made you roll your eyes.
Laney nodded emphatically. “She talks about you all the time.”
You nudged her shoulder to get her to stop talking but she just looked at you innocently. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it seemed like Jamie did too.
“Oh, does she?” Jamie questioned. 
He was eating this up. His face was smug and you were sure this would haunt you for weeks to come. 
“Laney, why don’t you go get some snacks? Shouldn’t be a line since we are here a bit early. I’ve got to talk to Jamie before the match,” you said. “I’ll meet you at our seats?”
You smiled sweetly at her, but underneath the nice layer, you knew your eyes held an anger that had her quickly waving goodbye and scurrying off. You were more than happy to have her accompany you to a match, but this entire interaction was reminding you of why you hadn’t invited her sooner.
For a moment, you just stared at him. It was hard to look him directly in the eye sometimes. Despite the headstrong front you kept up, you weren’t used to dealing with such interactions. You weren't stupid, you knew that this dance you two engaged in fell close to flirting (at least that’s what Laney said), and when you looked directly at him, you remembered just how fucking hot he was.
It wasn't just his physical attributes. Sure, he was in excellent physical shape, and his hair looked particularly perfect ever since he started going a bit blond, and his lips were always in a little pout, just begging to be kissed. But it was also a little more than that. Seeing him step up to lead as they began Total Football, working as a team player while also getting in extra workouts to be the best he could be. You weren't blind. You could see his internal changes on the outside, somehow. He didn't seem as cold. He didn't seem as distant and prickish. Jamie’s change in demeanor changed how everyone saw him including himself.
And he seemed to look even hotter than he used to.
Was it possible for someone to just keep getting more and more attractive?
It was part of the reason he drove you up the wall. How did he so perfectly remain just a little bit of a prick while also being a better person? And why did he have to look so pretty while doing it? 
More and more people were making their way through the hallway as the dog track got ready for the match, and Jamie still stood in the middle, with an innocent, questioning look directed towards you.
You huffed before you grabbed his arm and shoved him into the treatment room. Even if he was acting oblivious to spectators, you didn’t want to put on a show when you once again ripped him a new one. 
His face was still prickish as you turned to look at him. He was clearly enjoying this much more than you were. 
“So you talk about me when I ain’t around, love?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No, I don’t,” you said firmly. “And don’t call me ‘love.’”
He pursed his lips, “Seems like you do… love.”
He smiled cheekily at you and it took everything in you not to roll your eyes at him. Instead, you crossed your arms and put on what you hoped was your most serious face.
“I talk about everybody,” you defended, but he clearly wasn’t listening.
“Hmmm, and what do you say about me?” Jamie scratched his chin to mock being in deep concentration. 
“Mostly, I tell people you’re a pain in my ass.”
The statement seemed to shock Jamie out of his act and he narrowed his eyes at you. You knew it wasn’t the best idea to have a sparring match with a footballer right before a game. They were pent up with nerves and adrenaline as they prepared. 
After a moment of no response, you expected the conversation to be over and began to move toward the door, when he finally spoke up.
“Bend over, I’ll show you a pain in the ass.”
Now you’re the one who’s speechless. You let out a breathless laugh of shock, before rolling your eyes. You continued on your way to the door, moving to leave him in the room alone. Just as you go past him, he playfully smacks your ass. Before you have a chance to even choose your reaction, you let out what can only be described as a whimper mixed with a moan. 
You whirl around to look at him, and you both seem to be shocked by the noise. You can tell your face is burning with embarrassment as you stare at each other in a momentary state of shock. 
He recovers first, letting out a breath of a laugh. A smirk dances across his face.
“Liked that, did you?” he taunted.
You clearly didn’t recover as quickly, your reply coming out weaker than you’d like. “Shut up, Tartt.”
He stepped a little closer to you, and you stepped back instinctively, before you ran into the table set up next to the door. 
“I liked hearin’ it,” he said, his voice coming out like a rough whisper.
It all happened so fast. One moment you were barely processing how close the two of you were. Making direct eye contact, breathing the same air. In the next moment, you had spun around, shoving your own pants down around your knees as you heard him unzipping his jeans. He gripped your waist as he spanked you again, and you didn’t even try to suppress the moan that left your lips. 
He slid his dick in easily, and you were surprised at how wet you’d become from simply arguing with the man. He held you against his chest as he thrust into you, pressing a messy kiss to your neck, sucking slightly. Part of you was worried about him leaving a mark, but the thought was pushed to the back of your mind as he continued his journey along your neck. He raised your knee higher to rest against the table for a better position, and you groaned in unison as he thrust deeper inside you. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, leaning against him.
“You wanted this real bad, huh, angel?” he asked.
You nearly wept at the pet name. You made a noise of protest, but your voice came out near breathless from the intensity of it all. You felt like your knees would buckle from the sensation, so you gripped the table in an attempt to not fall.
“Fuck you— you wanted it more,” you defended, but just as you spoke, he hit deep inside you and left the end of your sentence turning to mush as you moaned.
The table wasn’t enough to grab onto, so you reached back and started to grip the strands of his hair. He groaned directly into your ear, and you felt your knees nearly give out entirely.
“Damn, you look so pretty with my name on your back and my dick inside you,” he mumbled as he ran his hand up to grip at your throat. The action wasn’t gentle, but the pressure was perfect.
You’d almost forgotten you were wearing his name across the back of your jersey. Of course he would think it was hot.
It surprised you when you realized you found it kind of hot too.
“Don’t get used to it,” you warned, “This isn’t happening again.”
Your harsh words felt like they had no meaning as you bucked against him. His own hips rose up to meet your own. Truth be told, you were getting your shit rocked and were already wondering when you could fuck him again. You felt your brain short circuiting. Your breaths were shallow as he moved his hand up to your mouth.
You bit his hand out of frustration, making him hiss and thrust his hips faster. He shoved his fingers into your mouth and you sucked instinctively, causing him to whine. 
“Jamie,” you gasped around his fingers, “I-I’m close.”
“Me too, love,” he panted in reply. You didn’t have it in you to correct him over the pet name, overcome with the sensations coursing through your body. 
He removed his fingers from your mouth and snaked his hand down your body to find your clit, adding extra pressure. He knows just the right way to move his fingers that has you falling apart in mere moments.
When you come, he turns your head to plant a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips as you both find your release. You find yourself kissing him back intensely, chasing his lips once he finally pulls away.
Your knees are weak at this point, fully leaning against him for support once he finally slips out of you and pulls his jeans back up. Before he has a chance to say anything between breaths, you reach for a towel off the shelves above you and clean yourself off.
You’re still out of breath as you finally look over at him. His face is shiny with sweat and you fear you look the same. You’ll have to stop by the restroom before you meet back up with Laney. 
Laney. 
The thought of your friend has you glancing at the clock on the wall, cursing yourself. Everything starts to come into clear view, and you wonder how you let things go this far. You just fucked Jamie Tartt. How the hell did that just happen?
You press your lips in a firm line. You try to keep your hands from visibly shaking.
“This is never happening again,” you tell him again, as you reach for the door handle to exit. 
As you open the door, Jamie scoffs.
“Sure, love,” he says, sauntering through the door that you opened, “I’ll see you after the match.” 
He leaves you with a wink before heading off to get ready for the match. If you thought he would be unbearable about the jersey, you had just made the entire situation so much worse. 
You weren’t sure how long you stood in the treatment room before you finally left as well.
531 notes · View notes
veryberryjelly · 2 months
Text
spring rolls and stocks
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jamie tartt x fem!reader
cw : none x
𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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while you definitely enjoyed dressing up for events, the events themselves almost always turned out to be boring.
and the event you had attended with jamie tonight was one of the many boring events you daydreamed through, thinking only of your pyjamas and a thai takeaway when you went home.
unfortunately you were pulled from your wistful daydream by the feeling of jamie's hand on your leg
you had zoned out during a speech being given by the organiser of the event you were currently suffering through.
you turned your attention towards him, a soft smile instinctively taking form on your lips at the sight of jamie.
his responding smile just made your stomach flutter.
" wanna grab some drinks ?" he suggested, and you were glad that you weren't the only one who was clearly bored. it was especially clear since both of your drinks were over half way full.
" absolutely " you replied almost instantly, grabbing your clutch and standing from your chair, jamies hand resting softly on the small of your back as the two of you made your way to the bar at the back of the venue.
you ordered yourself another one of the same drink that was sat on the table, but you would much rather nurse it at the bar than down it at the table and listen to the dud stood on the stage rambling about stocks.
you leant against the bar with a sigh, hearing a soft chuckle come from jamie at your reaction.
" is this really worth it ? 3 hours of this for a couple hundred quid in a bond we don't know how to use ?" you joked, taking your drink the moment it was set down in front of you and taking a swig.
" definitely not " he replied, thanking the bartender and taking a sip of his beer .
you turned your attention towards the front of the venue for a moment when there was a small round of applause, some other boring guy coming onto the stage to continue waffling on about stocks.
you were pulled from the boredom by the feeling of a pair of hands on your waist, causing your entire face to light up.
it lit up even further when you felt jamie's arms wrap around you and his face pressed into the crook of your neck.
" while that bloke was chattin' all i could think about was gettin' you home, gettin' ya out of this dress, and ordering takeaway "
your hands lifted to rest onto of his, practically wrapping yourself around his arms and tilting your head back against his chest.
" that sounds amazing... how long until we can duck out ?" you questioned, knowing he had a bit of a responsibility to be here. you didnt want to get him in trouble because you were bored.
" well, i'm thinking, this guy will be done in two minutes and we can slip out when everyone runs to the bar for refill's " he suggested, causing you to let out a soft laugh.
" perfect " was your simple reply.
the two of you remained stood at the bar, jamie's arms wrapped around your torso while the speech continued for what seemed like forever, but was probably only another 4 minutes.
the minute that everyone started coming towards the bar, the two of you headed for the exit, avoiding many glances your way as you climbed into the passenger seat of jamie's car.
the moment he dropped into his seat, his hand fell to rest on your thigh as he drove away from the venue and towards his house.
when you got in, you both began undressing almost instantly, both in your underwear when you got to his bedroom.
jamie laid on the bed while you stood infront of his mirror, removing your makeup.
" you want pad thai, babe ?" he questioned
" and vegetable spring rolls " you added, tossing your dirty cotton pad into the trash and joining him on the bed, your head resting on his shoulder.
" twenty five minutes " he stated, setting his phone down on the bed next to him, moving his arm to wrap around your shoulders with his head now rested against yours.
" mint " you added, settling into the brief silence between the two of you.
both of your fingers seemed to move on their own accord, jamie dancing down your side, yours drawing mindless shapes on his chest and watching as it rose and fell with every breath he took.
the ring of the doorbell was the thing that broke you both from your moment.
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uneditedidiot · 9 months
Text
gold rush - jamie tartt x reader
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jamie tartt x gn!reader
summary: reader is the head physical therapist for AFC Richmond and ever since Jamie returned to the team and has proven himself a better man, you can’t help but harbor feelings for the pro footballer. Takes place during s3ep11. Based off these specific lyrics from the song ‘gold rush’ by Taylor Swift.
word count: 2.9k
Warnings: language - it’s jamie tartt, of course there’s language; declarations of undying love and a first kiss. :)
A/N: I used to write imagines back in like 2012 about One Direction so at least this is somewhat of a step up for me. But my first tumblr imagine so hopefully it’s not complete trash lol.
Part Two: this love is ours
But I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush
I don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush
I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch
Everybody wants you
Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you
You were kidding yourself. 
Jamie Tartt, the star of the team, the integral cog in Richmond’s new Total Football machine, the absolute adorable human – that’s who you were in love with? It was almost laughable. If you had told yourself two years ago that Jamie Tartt would be the object of your affection, you wouldn’t have believed a word of it. He had changed. He had changed immensely.
It was…embarrassing in a way. You weren’t embarrassed of him, but more of how you reacted when he was around. And fortunately (or quite unfortunately), he was around quite a bit. As the head physical therapist for the team, you saw most of the players quite often for some reason or another.
Of course, you had no problem interacting with others for their physical care. Sam Obisanya had somehow garnered an elbow injury from playing football as a kid and it had decided to continue to bother him throughout his adulthood. He’d usually stop everyday just to chat, if not work through some stretches for his arm. Jan Maas had a tendency to go down too hard on his left knee when running, so you saw him at least twice a week to lead him through some exercises. Dani Rojas, the sweet sweet man he was, would stop by your office every single morning just to say hello and to make sure his arch support inserts in his boots were fitting right. Colin and Isaac both seemed to suffer from the same achilles tendon strains but on opposite legs. You had no problem assessing their physical needs. You went on with your day like nothing happened.
But Jamie…he was a different story. Just making eye contact when he walked into your office made your cheeks go warm. And having to move his ankle around when you were assessing range of movement? Your entire face and neck would go pink. And that smile…that smile had you giggling and kicking your feet for the rest of the afternoon. 
The sass was another issue entirely. Boy, did that man have a MOUTH on him.
When you’d first started at Richmond with Ted and Beard, who’d brought you with them from the States, Jamie was an asswipe. Sometimes he’d barely acknowledge your presence when coming to get treatment. Other times he’d just sit in silence, his eyes following your every movement. At least twice he’d come in for medical help and he’d tried flirting with you. Back then, you’d had no interest in him at all.
It was when he returned that it was clear something in him had changed. You’d observed his new restraint he showed at training and on the field during matches. He was considerate of his teammates, passing them the ball more frequently and encouraging them on and off the field. Keeley had even said she hadn’t seen him with a new girl on his arm for a long while.
But ever since his return, he’d become more and more friendly with you. You’d grown to trust him completely. He was a true friend. Not only that, but the banter you two had was unmatched.
“Do you like the new tat?” he’d asked one day as you wrapped his ankle.
“What is it supposed to be?” you’d chuckled.
He looked almost offended. “It’s a rocketship.”
You’d stood, wrap in hand, attempting to hold back a laugh. 
He sighed. “Alright, go ahead. Tell me what you really think.”
“Jamie…it…it looks like…like a dick.”
“It does not look like a dick!”
“Yes it really does.”
“You’ve got vision problems.”
“No I don’t. You’ve got some issues if you think that’s a rocketship.”
“Well so do you if you think it looks like a fuckin’ dick!”
You finally let out the laughter you’d been holding in. You had scurried to the door, thrown it open, and yelled out. “Jamie Tartt had his own dick tattooed to his forearm!”
He’d immediately jumped off the medical table and wrapped his arms around you, attempting to pull you away from the open door. You’d held on to the frame, still laughing and yelling as he did so.
“Jamie has a dick tattoo! Jamie has a dick tattoo!”
He was laughing the whole time, screaming, “no I haven’t!” over you, trying to drown out your yells.
You’d found yourself falling. His eyes would gleam and twinkle in this way that was almost comforting. You’d have done anything to see the light in his eyes again after he’d left your office. It was almost intoxicating, but in a way that felt like home. And while your real home in the States was far away, the closer you’d grown to Jamie, the less you missed it.
It was terrifying. You knew what it would mean if you said something to him; or even admitted it to yourself, frankly. 
Jamie was a very well-known figure in the UK. He was a top footballer on a premier team that was making a huge comeback that season. He’d been on a popular reality dating television show (which, sure, he made an ass of himself on but it’s in the past) which had spread his name and face across screens that may not have tuned into the matches before. It obviously didn’t help that he was, in your opinion, one of the handsomest men you’d ever seen. 
And others clearly agreed with you. The amount of thirst tweets you’d seen online about him was quite overwhelming. So many people wanted to be the one for Jamie. To hold him, love him, do things to him that you’d never heard of before reading that tweet. They found his tendency to be a prick on the field very hot. And he kept it up, that’s for sure.
Not only that, he was splashed all over the tabloid headlines when Lust Conquers All was airing. Since then, he was a frequent face on front pages of any and all gossip websites. If you were official with him, the amount of hate you’d get, grainy and unflattering pictures online, and generally mean tweets from people who found Jamie hot would be like a tsunami and you weren’t sure how you’d feel about that. Granted, he’d actually have to agree to go out with you first and that seemed so impossible…
Despite his public persona, you knew his heart. And what a wonderful heart it was. He was kind, thoughtful, and empathetic. He was considerate and made sure to take care of others before himself. He was a firework in a dim sky.
And you hated him. You hated him for making you want to be with him. Everything he did sent a shock of love and loathing down every single vertebrae in your spine. It almost hurt.
It wasn’t until the team’s fated match against Manchester City in Manchester did you see a problem. And that problem was himself. Clearly he was not himself. The thought of his father showing up at the match was weighing heavily on his mind. His self-esteem was at an all-time low and the thought of facing his old team and their incredibly intense fanbase didn’t help, either.
You’d sat next to Roy with Keely on his other side during the showing of You’ve Got Mail. You could see just from Jamie’s body language that he wasn’t himself. 
You’d sighed as Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan confessed their undying love to each other on the big projection screen. Everyone around you had shed at least one tear, including Roy, but something in you felt numb to it. You had been too busy focusing on the rigid back-of-the-head of Jamie in the front row.
You’d watched in dismay as Jamie snuck out of the room, his hood pulled up over his head. You, Roy, and Keely had followed him all the way to mom’s house. You’d sat and had a delicious cookie made by Simon, his stepfather, and then toured his old childhood bedroom.
You sat on the small twin-sized bed, taking in everything around you. Jamie was the same now as he was as a kid – living and breathing football. The posters on the wall were mainly of famous footballers, including Roy, who had cursed at the sight of his old Chelsea portrait. Even Keeley had gasped when she saw the picture of herself topless with two footballs in front of her chest next to it.
Roy and Keeley flopped down next to you on the bed. They chatted for a moment as you stared off into space.
Everything you had been harboring for Jamie – every single emotion – seemed to hit you all at once. The situation at hand forced it all to the surface.
You loved Jamie Tartt.
It brought tears to your eyes. You sniffled, quickly wiping a hand to your cheek.
“What’s wrong, babes?” Keeley asked worriedly, putting a hand on your shoulder.
You shook your head. Like she’d believe that for a second.
“Come on, out with it,” Roy demanded. “You’ve been almost as fucking miserable as Jamie this past week.”
You inhaled sharply, winding your fingers together awkwardly. Your voice was soft, trembling. “I’m in love with Jamie.”
Keeley smiled at you, then shared a knowing look with Roy.
“We know,” she replied gently.
Your eyes widened, meeting her gaze. “You do?”
“Halle-fucking-lujah,” sighed Roy. “Finally.”
“What do you mean, ‘finally?’” you retorted.
“It’s not like it’s been a fucking secret,” Roy grunted. “It’s clear you love the little prick.”
“He doesn’t…he doesn’t love me back, does he?” It was almost like you had dared yourself to even ask. What if he didn’t? What kind of hurt would that be?
You had expected Keeley to hug you sympathetically or even sigh, but instead…she giggled. “Not to break my promise or anything.” She shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, he loves you, too.”
You shook your head in disbelief. “Okay, don’t be mean. You don’t need to make things up just to keep me from feeling rejected, Keeley.”
“She wouldn’t tell you that if it wasn’t fucking true,” said Roy. “And I know we came here for Jamie to speak with his mum, but you’d hate yourself if you didn’t fucking say something to him.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “Now?”
“Now.”
Keeley agreed. “Yep, I think it’s gotta be tonight, babes. It’s perfect timing. His mum will help him feel better and you both admitting you’re in love?” She squealed and jumped up. “It’s gotta be now!”
“But he’s my best friend,” you replied quietly. “I don’t want it to ruin things.”
“It won’t ruin anything,” Roy shook his head. “If it’s meant to be…it’s fucking meant to be. Not that it’s any of my business.”
“He’s had a crush since he got back to Richmond,” Keeley added. “I know it will work out. Trust us. He’s become a new person and he’s the exact right person for you. You’re perfect for each other. I’m going to be that friend and pressure you to do this.”
You stood, if not somewhat shakily, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“You got this!” Keeley called after you as you exited Jamie’s childhood bedroom. 
You made your way down the small hallway and the narrow staircase, the air lingering with the scent of fresh baked goods as you descended. You could hear hushed voices coming from the living room. You tried to take soft steps as you approached the door.
“I don’t know, Mum. The best thing to ever happen to me?”
“It sounds like you’re in love.”
“But I’m scared.”
Your breath caught in your throat as you listened.
“Love isn’t supposed to be a walk in the park, Jamie. It can be scary. To put yourself out there on the line. To be vulnerable. To risk getting your heart ripped out and thrown in the rubbish.”
“I’m risking my best friend.”
“But will you regret it if you don’t?”
There was a beat of silence.
“I would die unhappy if I couldn’t tell them how I feel.”
Your feet moved before your brain could catch up. And then you saw him from right inside the doorway. His eyes. The gleaming. The twinkling. The feeling of comfortability. Of home.
He stood without taking his eyes off yours. There was a slight smile playing around his mouth. His hands went into their usual position, clasped and pulling on the bottom hem of his sweatshirt. 
Georgie also stood, but she grinned and quickly moved out of the room, saying to her son on the way out, “it’s worth it, love.”
All you could do in the moment was stand there, cheeks going pink under his gaze. 
“Erm…did you see me old bedroom?” he said sheepishly, breaking eye contact for a moment.
The start of this conversation somehow seemed to bring you back to the realm of the living. You chuckled. “Yes, I was a massive fan of the old Roy Kent poster you had up. And you know, all the small pictures of butts with thongs and such.”
It was his turn to go red. “Yeah, well, what can I say? Teenage boy hormones.”
“I don’t think it’s just teenage boy hormones, Jamie. That’s just you liking butts.”
You both shared another laugh before it went quiet again.
Now was your chance. Keeley and Roy had said Jamie was at least interested in you, so you needed to say something.
“Um…so, I…I was, uh, talking to Keeley and Roy upstairs,” you began, taking a couple steps toward him.
“Is that what you were doing? Talking? I’d have thought you might be having a threesome.”
You laughed again as he smirked proudly at his comment. But his smile faltered as you seemed to go back to a state of self-conscious anxiety. Jamie’s heartbeat sped up. Usually you would’ve come back with another witty comment.
“What were ya talkin’ about?” he wondered seriously.
“I was just telling them about this…guy I’m interested in.”
The warmth in Jamie’s eyes slowly seemed to be dying like embers of a fire slowly burning down.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. And I was telling them a little about him.”
Jamie nodded, eyes cast down at the floor. He feigned interest. “And what’s he like, then?”
You remembered what Georgie had just told Jamie moments before. Love is scary, but it’s worth the risk.
You took another step closer to him, feeling more confident now. “He’s really sweet. He’s considerate and thoughtful and is willing to learn and grow.” 
Jamie nodded again, still half-heartedly listening.
“And he’s funny and makes the best jokes. He can laugh at himself and how dumb he used to be. Although I’d laugh at myself too if I were that much of a prick once. Even turned a whole plan around at Amsterdam once, the idiot.”
His eyes were now back on yours, mouth slightly open in disbelief. The grin seemed to spread over his lips as you continued talking.
“And he’s generous and willing to take care of others despite his own needs. He puts on quite the show at his job though. Oh my god, he can be a bit of a show off, but he’s actively working on it. He always seems to get this like weird ankle injury every once in a while, too. And don’t get me started on his dumb ass tattoos. There’s this one that he says is a rocketship but I SWEAR it’s a penis and –”
“I love you.” 
Your words are put on halt by the admittance that Jamie has just put out into the world forever.
He repeated himself with confidence. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Your declaration comes not a second after he’s spoken. And everything seems to spill out at once. “For months now. I’ve tried to hold it in, but I can’t any longer. You make me nervous, Jamie Tartt. You make me blush just by walking into the fucking room. I couldn’t stand touching you because it made my stupid fingers turn red. Your smile alone could light a thousand candles at once. Your laugh could be a grammy-award winning song. Everybody wants you, but you…you are my everything.”
All he says is your name. And then he closes the gap between you two.
His hands go to your waist, his lips find yours. Your arms wind around his neck, hands finding the base of his hairline, weaving your fingers through the strands. There is no space left between your bodies.
Your mouths move in sync, slowly and softly, with a passion you’d never experienced before.
His hand moves from your waist to cup your cheek, turning his head slightly to deepen the kiss. His other hand grasps the fabric of your t-shirt, clinging to you incessantly.
When you pull away for a second, he whispers your name in a way that sends starlight cascading through your very bones. 
“Jamie,” you whisper, “you’re my best friend and I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
He smiles. “I think your timing is perfect. Just like you.”
You move to press your lips to his again when Simon calls out from the kitchen.
“Anybody want pie?”
Georgie makes a reappearance in the doorway. She shrieks in delight. “See, love? I told you! What did I tell you?”
She wrestles you away from Jamie and gives you the biggest and tightest hug of your life.
“Mum, you’re gonna squish ‘em!” Jamie protests good-naturedly, pulling back on your shoulder. He slings an arm around your waist, keeping you close.
You knew Jamie would be okay at tomorrow’s match even if his dad did show up. 
You loved each other. And that was all he needed.
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