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its-time-to-write · 11 months

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three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life

I am apparently incapable of writing anything short. This has no plot. I think the only warnings are like swearing and innuendo. It is literally just Jamie and the reader being in love. I cannot stress enough how little plot this has. Enjoy.

three times ‘cause I’ve waited my whole life It’s one of Richmond’s biggest games. They’re facing Man City on their turf, an away game, and it’s a big deal.

It’s not important in that it really matters to their status in the premier league, but important because it’s Man City. Jamie has thrown himself completely into training, so you rarely see him except to eat dinner and then fall asleep, his arms around your waist as you watch tv, fingers combing through his hair. He’s awake before you are, but as soon as you hear him switch on the bathroom light, you make your way downstairs to make him breakfast. The team nutritionist had a strict diet for him, one modified by Roy to account for all the extra training. You rub sleep from your eyes as you brew a pot of tea, waiting for Jamie to come downstairs.

Arms snake around you as you wait at the stove for the tea.“You don’t have to do this,” Jamie says, kissing your neck. You smile and reach back to him.

“I know,” you reply, “It’s just the only time I really get to see you.”

Jamie pulls away and turns you around. You see that he’s frowning.

“I haven’t been a good boyfriend recently, have I?” he asks.

You smile, lacing your arms around his neck. “Jamie. This is just a part of life. You have a big game, you disappear for a while, I miss you and I adjust. You finish, win or lose, and we’re back. I knew what I was signing up for.”

He puts his hands on your wrists. “Yeah, but, like, we’re supposed to be talking to each other and shit. And I’m so tired all the time that I can’t think of anything to say. I also’ve been a shit listener. Can’t even remember what we talked about yesterday.”

You sigh, move his hands back to your waist, and then reach up to smooth the furrow in his brow.

“Remember when I had all that extra work last month and ended up working 60 hours a week because of everything that had to be done? I was up late every night, and all you did was bring me food and kiss me, then you left me alone. I think the longest we were together was when you let me sit with my legs on your lap for two hours. I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Yeah but-”

You cut him off: “Jamie. It’s just life right now. It’s not forever. It’s ok.”

He looks like he has more to say, but is interrupted by the kettle whistling. You give him a quick kiss and then point to his breakfast on the counter. You sit on the kitchen island while he eats, with your head on his shoulder until Roy comes.

—

Here’s the thing; no one knows you and Jamie are together. Sure, Roy knows. But Jamie loves Roy. Keeley knows. But Jamie said you’d love Keeley. (You did). Ted and Beard know, but only because they saw you two walking around the Richmond green late, late at night. (What they were doing on the Richmond green that late is beyond you, but hey). It wasn’t long after that that Jamie put a picture of you two up in his locker, so then all of AFC Richmond knew. But you weren’t public public. You had yet to show up in a tabloid or be seen with Jamie at a game or public event. You went to his games, absolutely, but you stayed in the stands, not the box.

He always got you a spot as close to the field as possible, but you would always meet up with Keeley and Rebecca after games to rendezvous somewhere else later.

You don’t mind. It doesn’t feel like Jamie is ashamed of you, especially because the people he cares about know. But you also know that you can handle it, and if he wants to go public and kiss you in the stands after a win, you would be ok with that. (You might be more than ok with that).

But as it is, no one knows about you. He knows where you stand on it, so the ball’s in his court. It’s been a year of this, but you just wonder how long it’s going to last.

—

Finally, finally it’s the week of the game. You had been staying in Manchester with Jamie’s mum, which was absolutely terrifying at first. It was not your first time meeting her, just your first time staying with her without Jamie present. You left a day before the team, so when they arrived Jamie sneaked away to come visit. You are sitting in comfortable silence on his mum’s porch looking up at the night sky, when he turns to you and says, “do you love me?”

You’re taken a little aback. “What kind of question is that?” you say. “Of course I love you.”

Jamie’s forehead is all scrunched up again, like it was that early morning. “What if I fucked my leg so badly I could never play football again?”

You laugh. “Not sure if you’ve noticed babe, but I’m not really a big football person. I’m more of a you person, so I guess there’s some overlap.”

Jamie is still weirdly nervous. “What if I play football till I’m forty, and you barely see me like it’s been? What if I’m always on the road and always training and all we get are dinners and shitty 3am breakfasts?”

He’s removed his arm from your shoulders at this point and you shiver, puffing out a breath into the cold air. He notices without saying a word and drapes his jacket around you.

“Jamie,” you reply slowly, trying to formulate your thoughts, “where is this all coming from? You know I love you. We’ve been together for a year, and this has never been an issue before.” As you’re speaking, you’re seized by a sudden, terrible thought: “Are you breaking up with me?”

The words tumble out so fast, you’re not sure he hears you until he’s looking at you, aghast.

“No, are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” you reply. “But you’re acting all weird, and we’ve been together for an entire year and that’s the longest you’ve dated anyone and I just thought that maybe this was your way of letting me know gently that you’re over me.”

Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest.

Jamie breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh. No. I’m not ending things. I want to be with you forever. I just get all freaked out in me head before games like this, and it’s been fuckin weird coming home, and I just want to win, you know, so that way all this time away is worth it.” He pulls you close to him again and you can feel his heartbeat slowing down to a normal pace, in sync with your own.

You sit there till his mum comes out to remind him that it’s time to go get some rest, and it’s not until you’re half asleep in Jamie’s childhood bed that your mind replays his words:

I want to be with you forever.

—

It’s game day. You send Jamie a quick love you! text and then slip into your Jamie Tartt jersey. It’s from one of his old kits so it’s a little worn, but you always put it into his laundry pile so it comes out of the wash smelling like him. It’s not something anyone would notice, but you know, and it makes you smile. You get to be in the stands and know that Jamie Tartt loves you and you love him, and at the end of the day he’s the one you get to hold. You give yourself a shake, and open your phone to figure out where you’re meeting Keeley.

—

“And Richmond wins, 3-2 with a smashing goal by number 9 himself, Jamie Tartt!”

You’re screaming and jumping in the stands, overwhelmed by the fact that we won, we won, we won! The Richmond team are piling onto each other, Dani on Isaac’s back, Sam and Jan Maas jumping up and down like kids. You lose sight of Jamie in the mix.

“Well Arlo, it looks like Richmond has once again, exceeded all of our low expectations.”

“That’s right Chris, all thanks to Jamie Tartt’s brilliant goal. Looks like he’s having a good time celebrating with the Richmond lads. Wonder what they’ll get up to tonight? But what’s this? It looks like Tartt has broken away from his teammates and is running to the stands! He’s stopped in front of a fan and it looks like he is kissing a very lucky Richmond fan full on the mouth!”

“Have you ever been so caught up in a moment that you’ve made out with a stranger, Arlo?”

“Can’t say that I have, Chris. Can’t say that I have.”

It all happens so fast, that you don’t even know how to process it. One moment you can’t find Jamie and the next he is leaping over the stands, catching you in his arms, and kissing you in front of the whole stadium as if no one else is around. When you finally pull away, breathless, he takes your hand and helps you hop over the wall onto the pitch. Not usually allowed, but you suppose they’ll let it slide for football’s golden boy. AFC Richmond has caught up to Jamie, and you’re all on the field, screaming your heads off out of the sheer joy of winning.

—

“You’re coming tonight, yeah?” Isaac asks you as you wait for Jamie by the team bus. It’s the day after the Man City game, and you’re back in Richmond with a plan to hit the town yet again, as though the night before wasn’t enough for them. (You actually wouldn’t know, because you were in a very nice hotel room with a certain striker).

“Yeah, you know the only reason we invited him anywhere is in the hopes that you’ll finally be able come along,” Colin adds.

Any story of Richmond’s win had a somewhat fuzzy picture attached of Jamie kissing you in the stands with some variation of the title “Tartt’s mystery girl.”

You laugh. “Yes, we’ll be there. It’ll be nice to actually be out and about with you guys. Family dinners are fun, but there’s more to life.”

Once you found out that Jamie’s whole team knew you existed, you made him invite them over for dinner once a month. It’s one of your favorite things, especially because they all bring food to share. When it’s warm you do pool parties and when it’s cold you play bracket uno. It was nice to meet Jamie’s family, whether he’ll admit that’s what they are or not.

“You ready, babe?” Jamie asks as he slings his arm around you.

“BYE TED!” you yell. “Ok. Now I’m ready.”

—

Sam closed his restaurant special for you all, and turned it into like a private club. You say like because it is, at its core, a restaurant. However, under Isaac’s supervision and creative design, he apparently has transformed Ola’s through rearranged furniture, dimmed lighting, and music into a place where AFC Richmond can celebrate their win without feeling crowded by strangers. You’re secretly grateful, because clubs are not really your scene. You’ll get all dressed up, sure, but you never know what to do with yourself once you’re there.

Speaking of getting dressed up, you were feeling yourself. You had a light blue mini dress, with an asymmetrical neckline and a single puffed sleeve. It was more a-line than bodycon, but hey. You like a little bit of a twirl when you spin. Your absolute favorite part though was that you were wearing two-inch silver block heels, with straps around your ankles. The dress plus the shoes made your legs look magical.

You and Jamie are in the bathroom getting ready, you fixing your makeup and him fixing his hair. He half-turns to you and points to his hair with a questioning look. “Lookin’ good,” you smile, and he smiles back.

“Oh, babe,” he says, tweaking his hair one final time, “I left my sunglasses back at the locker room, and I was wonderin’ if you’d be ok getting them with me before we head to the party? I just don’t want Bumbercatch stealing them.”

“Why would Bumbercatch steal them?” you ask.

Jamie shrugs. “Something about ‘no name, fair game.’ That’s how Jan Maas lost his favorite socks.”

You shudder. Why Bumbercatch would want Jan Maas’ dirty old socks, you have no idea. They must be really amazing.

You reply, “Yeah sure, I hate being too early to things anyway,” as Jamie absentmindedly kisses you on the forehead with a “thanks babe,” as he heads downstairs.

—

You don’t live far from the Richmond pitch, so you’re walking across the dark parking lot in no time.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Jamie says.

He’s swinging your hands as you walk. He looks nice, the sleeves of his cream shirt rolled up. Nice pants, nice shoes. Nice ass.

“Yeah, of course,” you say, momentarily distracted by the fact that this man is going to get laid tonight.

“No, I mean you’re always down for what-fuckin-ever, and you just let things bounce off you. And you like me, for my personality for some fucking reason? And I think about you all the time, when I’m gone or when, like, I have early training with Roy. And you make laugh because you stopped being afraid to be yourself around me. I just like you. And I meant what I said the other day, I do want to be with you forever. Not to freak you out or whatever.”

He’s stopped right at the doors and he looks so uncomfortable and earnest in a way that you’ve never seen before.

“I’m not freaked out, Jaim,” you say. “I love you, and you know I’m in it to win it with you. Now, let’s get those sunglasses and for the love of god, please don’t act this weird tonight.”

This elicits a chuckle, and he nods in concession. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The halls are dark and quiet as you walk to the Richmond locker room. It smells clean, for once. Like lavender. There’s a faint glow coming from the doors and Jamie pushes open the doors to the most magical thing you have ever seen.

There are candles on the benches and twinkle lights strung across the lockers. There’s a bouquet of flowers in the middle of the room and as you turn to Jamie, awestuck look on your face, you see him kneeling behind you, small black box in hand.

“Jamie,” you say.

“Yes, love,” he replies.

“What are you doing.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it comes out more wobbly than you’d care to admit.

He cracks a smile. “Eh, I hope it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.”

You can feel a fucking tear forming in your eye and you will it to go away. You refuse to have streaky foundation.

“Love of my life,” Jamie begins.

“Yes,” you say.

“Oi, you’ve gotta let me finish.”

“Right, sorry, as you were.” You think your face is going to split in half with the size of your smile.

He takes a breath then continues, “there’s no one else I’d rather have shitty 3am breakfasts with, no one else I’d rather beat at MarioKart, and no one else I’d rather do life with. Will you m-”

He’s cut of by you kissing him like you have never kissed him before. After a moment, he pulls away and asks, “Is that a yes?”

You can’t help it, the furrow in his brow gets you every time so you laugh and reply, “Of course it’s a yes, you dummy!”

Jamie smiles and then yells, “Lads, she said yes!” and the blinds go up from the coaches office as the entire AFC Richmond team storms into the locker room. Dani and Richard are spraying champagne in the air as people hug you and slap Jamie on the back.

You find his hand amid the chaos and squeeze it.

“Can’t believe I were so nervous about this,” he says into your ear.

“Can’t believe you think you beat me at MarioKart,” you respond.

“Oi, we are not getting into this again-”

“There’s only one way to settle this.”

Jamie looks at you, then to all your friends celebrating, then back to you. “Think they’ll even notice we’re gone?”

You shake my head. “Nah,” you say, “let’s get out of here.”

Jamie smiles at me as you slip through six different lynx scents out the door. “You’re going down, Mrs. Tartt.”

“Only one of us is going down tonight, Mr. Tartt, and I can assure you it is not me!”

“You can say that again.” Jamie sticks out his tongue and wiggles his eyebrows at you, and your laughter echoes up into the night sky.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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axelsagewrites · 7 months

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Jamie Tartt*The Bet

Pairing: Jamie x f!reader

Word count: 5794

Warnings: jamie asking the reader out as a bet, prick jamie in the beginning, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, angst, a lot of fucks but this is Ted Lasso

Materlist here

“mate do you know who I am?” Jamie said, gesturing to himself as he Issac and Collin sat in the back corner of a crowded nightclub, “I’m telling you man I could get any girl in here. Guy too if I really wanted,”

“please bruv,” Issac scoffed, rolling his eyes. They were used to Jamie being a cocky prick on the field but after a few too many beers and Issac getting rejected twice in one night he was bitter and felt the need to prove something, “all you do is get laid. You’ve not had a girlfriend in like ever,” he said making Jamie roll his eyes this time.

“at least I can get laid. Getting a girlfriends easy,” Jamie said.

“nah he’s right mate,” Collin pipped up making Jamie roll his eyes yet again, “getting laid’s the easy bit, you can’t make them stick around,”

“Keeley stuck around,” Jamie tried to argue but this time his teammates just laughed, “what?”

“all yous did was hookup it’s not like yous were proper dating,” Issac said, Collin nodding in agreement, “face it Jamie girls only talk to you for sex,”

Jamie scoffed at the pair but the more he thought about it he was wondering if they were right. Sure, he and Keeley had been together for a few months before they split but every time, they saw each other it always ended in sex. Now he was thinking about it he wasn’t sure if he had taken her on an actual date the whole time, “if I wanted to, I could have a girlfriend,”

“prove it,” Collin said making even Issac raise an eyebrow, “if you can date a girl for a month and get her to be your girlfriend by the end of it, I’ll give you my car,” Issac let out a low whistle as Jamie laughed. Was he seriously considering this? A new car did sound nice though, “but no sex,”

“what?” Jamie said, well almost shouted as he ignored the confused looks from those around, “no sex for a month?”

“what are you some kind of addict?” Issac scoffed at the man, “Collins right. One month, no sex, serious commitment. Then you get his car,”

Jamie shook his head, scoffing as he leant back in his seat. He ignored the probing and teasing of his mates as he considered it for a moment. Sure, he could buy a new car but the feeling of driving Collins car to practise would be pretty sweet, “fine you’re on,” he said suddenly making both boys head snap around.

Collin for a second looked unsure before he added his final stipulation, “but we get to pick the girl,”

Issac and Collin had insisted you don’t find a girlfriend in a club so by the end of practise tomorrow they would assign Jamie his target. When the two came up to him in the locker room after practise Jamie almost regretted the bet when he saw their grin. “we’ve found her,” Issac said.

“the perfect girl,” Collin added, “oh and I’ve decided if I win, I get your car,”

Jamie shrugged as he stood from the bench, “fine deals a deal. Who’s the girl?”

When Issac pulled out his phone for a second Jamie almost felt bad. Almost. He recognised who the insta belonged to instantly. You were Rebecca’s personal assistant, so it was not rare for Jamie to see you floating around Richmond, but he’d never seen your insta before. “no sex yeah?” He said, taking the phone from Issacs hand to look through your pics, “bummer but a deals a deal. Its gonna feel so sweet driving that Lambo,” he grinned as he tossed the phone back to Issac.

“you’ve got a week to ask her out or you instantly fail the challenge,” Issac said, “and as the one not putting his car on the line I’m the captain of this bet,” Jamie rolled his eyes as Issac proceeded to lay down the law, “and if we find out you lied about any after date activities or skipped a date with her then you lose and will owe a fine of £1000,”

Jamie scoffed, gesturing like Issac was a mad man, “whatcha gonna do? Stalk me or some shit?”

“she’s pals with Sam so he’ll tell us,” Collin said before his eyes went wide, “which reminds me no one but us three can know,” he said before glancing around the locker room, “it’s a secret,” he whispered.

Jamie rolled his eyes before pushing past them both, “whatevs boys. Don’t worry I won’t gloat too much when I win,” he grinned as he walked out the locker room leaving everyone, but Issac and Collin confused.

It was as if as soon as the bet started you had disappeared. Jamie was used to seeing you running all over the place but the one time he saw you the first three days was you driving off in your beat-up car. For a second, he thought Rebecca should be paying you better. It didn’t help that each time either of his friends saw him they reminded him the clock was ticking.

On Thursday however when Jamie saw you walk past the gym door, he quickly dropped his weights, running out the room with no thought or care for Roy shouting after him to rerack his weights. You were heading in the directions of the locker room and Jamie saw this as the perfect excuse as he jogged up to your side, “looking for me,” he said making you jump, almost dropping your clipboard.

“Christ Jamie you scared me,” you said, trying to catch your breath and also not make a complete fool out of yourself. “but no, I’m looking for ted. Rebecca needs him to sign something,”

“funny that most girls want my autograph not his,” Jamie said, trying to put on his best charismatic laugh but when you only gave a small chuckle and not a giggle like he was used to him thought he may have to change tactics. “I’ll walk ya. I’ve gotta grab something from my locker anyhow,”

“that’s nice but you don’t have to,” you said, giving him a small smile as you clutched the clipboard close to your chest.

In truth while you were trying to stay professional right now you did have a secret crush on the famous football player. Yes, you knew it was cliche and you knew Jamie flirted with every woman on the planet which is why you were trying to not fall for his adorable smile right now, “ah come on let me keep you company,” Jamie laughed, knocking his shoulder into you, “gets lonely walking these halls,”

You laughed at his dumb attempts at flirting and hated how easily you were falling for it, “ah yes the three-minute walk might be the end of me,”

“good thing you’ve got me to keep ya going love,” he joked.

This banter and small talk were the longest conversation you think you’d ever had with Jamie, and you couldn’t help but notice that while ted was signing the papers, he hadn’t actually grabbed anything from his lockers. “tell you what love,” Jamie said as he held the locker room door open for you, “I’ll even walk you back to where I found you,”

“oh, wow Jamie Tartt, such a gentleman,” you joked.

As you neared the gym again, laughing at one of Jamies dumb flirty jokes you bumped into Sam who said hello with a very concerned look on his face. After he said goodbye to you and you headed back to your office he turned to Jamie with a far more serious look, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“eh nothing?” He said, completely caught off guard by the seriousness in Sams tone.

Sam sighed and stepped in closer to Jamie, “it better be nothing. She is a good girl she doesn’t deserve to have her heart played with,”

“calm down Sam I’ve no done anything,” Jamie said as he tried to get past his teammate, but Sam grabbed his arm to stop him, “seriously man I’m not gonna hurt her,”

“Jamie, I know what you’re like. And that’s fine you can do you. But I won’t let you hurt my friend,” Sam said sternly.

Jamie rolled his eyes as he took Sams hand off his arm, “for your information. I’m a changed man. I plan on being the perfect gentleman from now on, alright?” He said but Sam just narrowed his eyes, “honest man. Getting bored of all this casual pish ya know?” Jamie said as he stuck his hands into his short’s pockets.

It wasn’t fully a lie. Jamie had been getting bored of all the one-night stands and the drama that came along but Sam just narrowed his eyes further before silently heading back to the gym. Jamie rolled his eyes as he followed along and headed to jump on an exercise bike, ignoring how Sam had gone to go whisper to Issac.

A knock on your office door made you look up with a smile, “hey Sam, you alright?” You asked as you shut down your laptop for the day.

“yes of course,” he said as he walked into your office and slumped down onto the chair in front of your desk, “just wanted to see my friend, is that a crime?”

“I’ll allow it,” you laughed as you packed your bag, “you need a lift home?” You asked as you grabbed your car keys.

“I wouldn’t say no,” he grinned as he jumped right back out the chair and you both began your decent to the car park, “but I was wanting to talk to you about something,”

“what’s up?” You said as you locked your office door.

Sam sighed as he followed you through the corridors, “what’s happening with you and Jamie?”

You shrugged, honestly not sure yourself what was happening, “nothing really, we were just talking. Did he say something or?” You asked.

“kind of,” Sam said, his face screwing up for a second, “he said he was a gentleman now, but I worry. I don’t want you getting hurt,”

“I’m a big girl Sam,” you joked, nudging him, and making him laugh, “besides he’s Jamie tart. I doubt he meant it,”

“according to Issac he does,” Sam said which honestly made you more surprised than anything. You spoke to Issac even less than you had Jamie, so it was weird to think of him and Jamie having deep conversations about settling down, “apparently, he wants to settle down or something. I don’t know whether to believe it but why would Issac lie?”

“weird,” you muttered as you and Sam finally reached the car park and he held the door for you to slip out, “besides that doesn’t mean he wants to be with me,”

“don’t put yourself down,” Sam said, nudging you with his elbow as he sent you a reassuring smile, “he’d be lucky to even get one date with you,”

“you have to say that” you said as you rolled your eyes and pulled out your car keys.

As you were unlocking your car the door to the car park opened again and out walked a freshly showered Jamie, his hair still clearly damp. He didn’t have a right to look this attractive you thought but you’d been looking for too long as when Jamie looked up, he caught your stare.

He waved with a wide grin as he headed over to his own car across the lot. You gave a small wave back as you slipped into the driver’s seat. You glanced across through Sams window to see he was still looking at you and you prayed to god he couldn’t see how flustered you were as you tried to start the car. Sam had seen though, and merciless teasing followed you the whole drive back to his house.

Jamie figured he had time, so he spent the next two days flirting with you in the corridors despite Issac and Collin reminding him he only had to Sunday. However, Sunday was matchday and you were always in the owner’s box with Rebecca. While she was your boss you had grown quite close, so you often sat wedged between her and Keeley as you tried to keep up with the team.

“did Jamie just wave to you?” Keeley asked as Jamie ran onto the pitch. Your blush was undisguisable as you tried to shrug it off, “omg babes you fancy him?” She practically squealed as she clutched your arm.

“maybe I don’t know,” you said, hating the way his name was already making you smile. “he’s your ex though so- “

“nah babes go for it. I’ve got Roy now. Oh, we could double date how cute!” The rest of the match was spent with Keeley telling you how perfect it would be, and you figured if his ex-spoke so highly of him then how bad could he be?

The match went smashing with Richmond winning three nil and soon you were in the press room stood next to Rebecca as ted got interviewed and you took notes. You looked up confused when Rebecca nudged you, but she just nodded towards the door. When you looked through the window you saw Jamie lent against the wall by the door and when you looked back to Rebecca she just smirked and nudged you towards the door.

You silently chuckled at the fact she’d obviously listened to yours and Keeley’s conversation as you made your way to talk to Jamie. “hey,” you grinned, shutting the door behind you softly. “you did great out there,”

“was easy with you cheering me on,” he smirked as he started walking down the corridor with you following after him.

“who said I was cheering for you?” You joked.

Jamie held a hand to his heart in mock offence, “love you’re breaking my heart here. Here I was coming to ask if you wanted to go celebrate my glorious victory,”

“cocky much?” You laughed but rolled your eyes at the way he smirked, “fuck off not like that,”

“didn’t say a thing,” Jamie shrugged but the devious smile on his lips said something different. “c’mon whatcha say love?”

You paused for a moment, crossing your arms as you turned to face him, “what did you have in mind?”

“you, me, fancy restaurant,” Jamie said, stepping closer, his finger brushing over your cheek so gently it felt like a feather, “some nice wine. Just some wholesome fun,”

“wholesome fun?” You laughed, trying not to get lost in his eyes. It was unfair this allure he had on you.

Jamie chuckled softly, “course babe,” the pet names sounded so good coming from him and his accent, “haven’t you heard? I’m a gentleman now,” he said, his hand falling from your face making you miss his touch but laugh at the way he placed his hand over his heart, “scouts honour,”

“were you even a scout?” You laughed as he shook his head no with a cheesy grin, “suppose one date wouldn’t kill me,”

“trust me love. You won’t regret it,”

You didn’t want to say you were shocked, but Jamie was right. The night had been perfect. You ate some of the best food in your life, drank some ridiculously expensive wine, and even started to flirt back with Jamie over dinner. He really was pulling out all the stops.

He wore his best suit, with a shirt as well even if he couldn’t bring himself to ditch the trainers. He pulled your chair out for you, ordered dessert to share, he even insisted on walking you home at the end of the night. “guess that’s me,” you said as you stood by your front door.

“guess so,” Jamie smiled as he looked down at you, “told you you wouldn’t regret it,” he said, completely ruining the moment but making you laugh as you unlocked your front door.

“give it time. I might regret it later,” you joked as you opened your door, half wondering if Jamie was going to try invite himself in. You were also wondering whether or not to let him. The night had been good after all, and you weren’t usually so strict on the three-date rule.

“I’ll text ya yeah?” Jamie said since he had only just got your number on the walk home, “better not be a fake one you gave me,” he joked.

“you’ll have to wait and see,” you laughed. Maybe he wasn’t going to try make a move then you thought, “goodnight, Jamie,”

Jamie stepped forward. He’s going to kiss me you thought but instead he leaned in to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, “night love,” he said quietly before stepping back, grinning at the way he had left you speechless, “see ya soon babe,” he said as he began to walk down the street.

You waved after him, unable to speak before you closed the door behind yourself. This really had been the perfect date. Maybe Jamie was a gentleman now. When you went to get changed you felt your phone buzz and you laughed when you saw the text.

-just checking – Jamie

You laughed, texting him back instantly.

-as if I’d give you a fake number lol

Jamie grinned when he saw your reply before tucking his phone into his jacket pocket. However, as Jamie was walking home a thought crossed his mind. Fuck, what if he really did like you? Sure, Jamie knew the bet was probably a morally wrong thing to do but it was for a Lamborghini, Collins prized car. He spent the rest of his walk home telling himself it was alright, even if he did end up liking you what was the harm? He’d date you for a month then give you a clean, mess free break up.

Then another issue started. Jamie had fallen for you head over heels. You’d spent the whole night texting, the next week constantly flirting or hanging out after practise. Within two weeks you had been on three dates and Collin had commented on his dedication to win this car which only made Jamie feel worse.

He’d kissed you on your second date after visiting the movies. He even waited till after the movie was finished to do it. It did not help him not fall for you. If anything, it made it harder to stay away from you. Your third week dating you hung out every day whether it be grabbing lunch or making dinner at his house.

The only drawback was Jamie having to turn down your advances, insisting he wanted to take it slow. But by week four he didn’t even mind not having sex. The casual nights watching telly was enough for him. The way you would cuddle him on the couch or how you would lounge around his house with him, both of you wearing his sweats and hoodies. Seeing you in his hoodie melted his heart.

“three more days and the cars are yours bruv,” Issac had said to him during practise and Jamie realised a terrifying thought. What if you found out?

Jamie shrugged it off, trying to forget about it the whole time but it weighed him down the whole practise. Jamie deliberately hung back in the locker room that night, making sure he could catch Collin alone, “maybe we should call off the bet mate,” he said quietly as the last person exited the room.

“why? Scared she’s gonna dump ya?” He laughed as he patted his shoulder before leaving the locker room and now Jamie was left alone to feel like shit.

That was till a gentle knock snapped him out of his thoughts, “ready to go?” You smiled from the locker room door. Jamie put on his best happy face as he grabbed his bag, wrapping his arm around you as you headed to the car park.

The whole walk Jamie was silently thinking about the shit he had landed himself in. Then again, the bet never said he had to break up with you. Issac had said only him, and Collin were allowed to know. He could just let Collin keep his car and no one would need to know. Yeah, it would be fine. He was sure of it. Everything would be fine. Jamie had no idea how wrong he was and how badly this week was going to end.

Jamie tried to push it out of his head that night, but it was now the only thing he could think about. You were both laying on the couch, you being the big spoon while he rested his head on your chest. “You okay baby?” You asked while stroking his hair. “You’ve been quiet all day,”

Jamie was snapped out of his thoughts glancing over to you with a small smile, “Sorry love. Just one of those days you know?”

Jamie tried his best to act normal for the rest of the night but when it came time for him to say goodnight and head back to his place, he found himself unable to pull away when he hugged you. “You sure you’re good?” You asked, your face pressed into his chest while his head buried into your shoulder.

“Course love,” Jamie said, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder, “Just gonna miss you is all,”

“Jamie,” you laughed, pulling him off you, “You will see me in legit less than twelve hours,” you said smiling as you leaned up to kiss him gently, “I’m not going anywhere,”

“Promise?” He said, his eyes sheepishly looking to the floor.

You laughed as you reached out, taking his pinkie in yours, “Promise,”

For the next two days Jamie was extra cuddly, extra lovey dovey, and extra boyfriendy all round. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him, figuring maybe the one-month mark was a bigger deal to him than you first thought. You ended up getting dragged into one of Rebecca and Keeley’s girl talks and when you told them about it. “Maybe he wants to get serious,” Rebecca said as she snacked on one of Teds biscuits, “He might just be nervous about it all. I wouldn’t worry,”

“Yeah babes,” Keeley said as she gave your arm a squeeze, “Jamie legit adores you he’s probs just nervous cause you’re his first long term girlfriend,”

“You think?” You said, nervously picking at the threads of your jumper.

“Totally,” Keeley said, looking to Rebecca who nodded in agreement, “Maybe he’s just nervous about your one-month anniversary,”

“Is that really a thing?” Rebecca asked, sitting down her biscuits in disbelief at the idea one month was a big deal.

Even you looked to Keeley confused, “Well yeah,” Keeley said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Its sweet when you think about it. You’ve made him all soft,” she teased, poking your sides, and making you laughed. You were finally able to relax, and Keeley had even suggested getting him a gift.

The first gift you came up with that Keeley instantly agreed upon was sex. You really liked Jamie but this whole taking it slow thing was going really really slow. On top of making sure to wear something nice under your clothes on your one-month anniversary of your first date you had also gotten him, well made, a gift.

You didn’t exactly want to spend tons on a one-month gift, especially since Jamie had expensive tastes with his footballer salary, but you’d picked up a cheap football from a sports shop and a sharpie. You covered the ball in notes ranging from inside jokes to cheesy pick-up lines including ‘my favourite footballer’ and writing ‘you scored the best goal on’ then adding the day of your date. You were quite proud of it but just encase you took a box of chocolates as well.

The day had been so busy that you didn’t even get to see Jamie before you were rushed off to deal with a Rebecca crisis. No matter how busy you were you made sure to text Jamie at least once in the morning but when Jamie saw your text, he couldn’t help but smile.

-Happy one month anniversary babe, pick you up after work for a hot date?

Jamie was blissfully unaware of what was to come as he typed out his response before heading to the pitch. Collin had insisted the bet wasn’t over till the end of practice and Issac had let it slide, seeing the regret in his friends’ eyes when he realised, he was going to lose his car. Jamie couldn’t care less about the car though as he thought he was finally free from the bet.

He wanted to run up to your office as soon as practise ended but Issac insisted, he wait with him and Collin in the locker room till everyone else had left. When Danni finally left the room, waving bye to his mates as he left, Collin let out a heavy sigh as he pulled out his keys. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said, his voice already choked.

“Mate its just a car,” Jamie said, already so fed up and wanting to find you.

“Bruv,” Isaac said, holding a hand to his chest, “a moment of respect,” he said, allowing Collin to whisper a goodbye to his keys as Jamie rolled his eyes, “Okay Collin its time. Jamie won the bet fair and square,” he said as he pried the keys from Collins hands and handing them to Jamie who sighed as he took them.

“I really, really thought she’d have broken up with you by now,” Collin said, shaking his head as he collapsed onto a bench, his head hanging low.

Jamie rolled his eyes at the dramatics of it all as Issac patted his shoulder, “I didn’t think he could go without sex for this long,” Issac added before nodding at Jamie, “Fair play mate but if you do dump her just don’t be a dick about it,”

“And for the love of god do not dent the car,” Collin pipped up as he lifted his head however when he did Jamie noticed all the colour draining from his face, “Eh mate. Bit of a situation,” he muttered, nodding his head towards the door.

Jamie spans around on his heels and his heart dropped to his stomach when he saw you stood there, tears already trickling down your face. Jamies mouth dried up as he searched for the words when the ball and chocolates slipped from your hand and clattered to the floor. “It’s not what- “Jamie tried to say but you were already backing away before turning to run down the corridor. “You fucking idiots,” Jamie yelled at his teammates before taking off down the corridor after you.

You’d think a professional footballer would catch up with you with ease but when Jamie ran into the car park you were already unlocking your car. “Wait,” he yelled, running over, and closing the door with his hand you’d tried to open.

“Why?” You spat, “Do you need me to prove you won?”

“Babe its- “Jamie tried to say, his hands reaching to hold your shoulders.

You slapped them away in an instant, “don’t babe me,” your voice was filled with anger but the tears streaming down your face was what broke Jamies heart, “You fucking used me. For some fucking bet. Is that all this was to you?”

“No of course not,” Jamie said, his hand grabbing his hair as he backed up slightly so at least you weren’t trapped against the car, “it was just some dumb bet but it’s not like I don’t like you. I really fucking like you,”

“Yeah right,” you scoffed turning to get in the car before stopping, “What did you even win?”

Jamie didn’t know if this would make it worse or better, but he knew lying was definitely the wrong choice, “Collins Lambo,” he said, his voice sounding more like a question as he waited to see your reaction.

“You only dated me because of a fucking car?” You yelled, not caring who heard anymore, “You broke my heart because of a car?!”

“I didn’t wanna hurt you-fuck,” Jamie said, his eyes growing wetter with each second as he tried not to throw up from the guilt, “I promise you that I like you. I think I fucking love you and I’ve never felt this way before and- “

You sighed, turning away as you tried to choke back a sob, “Be honest with me Jamie,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes, “If they hadn’t made the bet, would you have ever asked me out?” You waited for his response but when you turned round to see his jaw hanging open, his eyes wide, you knew the answer. “Don’t talk to me. Ever again,” you said as you jumped into your car and quickly sped off.

Jamie had well and truly fucked it. He felt like his body was on fire as he began to slap his own head, muttering a thousand fucks under his breath. Meanwhile you were trying your best not to be blinded by your own tears as you drove home alone to curl up on the couch and wallow.

A few hours passed and you were still on the couch with a massive tub of ice cream and a million texts from Keeley asking for a follow up from your ‘we broke up’ text. You couldn’t even bring yourself to text her back let alone go answer the door when someone rang your doorbell. Then it rang away. “Go away,” you groaned, sinking further into the couch.

Ring. Ring. Ring. The bell echoed through the house till you tore yourself off the couch, ready to go scream at the idiot at your door. But when you pulled it open and saw his big guilty brown eyes staring back at you, you couldn’t say a word. Especially not when you noticed the red puffiness around his eyes and the way they were already watering again.

“Is that my hoodie?” Jamie asked, his voice quiet and broken as he nodded to the oversized hoodie covering your frame. You paused for a moment before nodding silently. Jamie sighed, his eyes growing sadder, if possible, “Can I come in?”

You paused again, not knowing if your vocal cords could even manage the potential screaming match. Jamie shuffled on his feet, his eyes moving to the floor before you finally spoke, “Fine,” you whispered before heading back to sink into the couch.

Jamie followed, shutting the door behind you both and tentatively walking to your living room. His eyes scanned the room and he almost cried when he saw the ice cream, blankets, and crappy reality show on the tv. He’d made you cry. He’d broke your heart. No matter what happened he knew he could never forgive himself for that.

"I know I had no right coming over here," he started as he sat on the opposite end of the couch trying to give you as much space. You were already curled up on the other end, your eyes glued to the now muted tv as you avoided his gaze, "and believe me I know I don't deserve ya. But I couldn't walk away leaving you thinking I didn't like ya because I did and I still do," he said, his voice dripping with desperation as he searched his pockets.

He began to pull out one post it after the next making you look up at the sound of paper ruffling. They were all pretty crumbled up but Jamie picked them up one by one, "I love how smart you are and how you seem to know everything but don't explain things to me like I'm stupid," he began to read off the post it's chucking them on the couch before grabbing the next, "I love how when you laugh you look at the ground to try hide your face,"

"I love how we can lay on the couch together and not say a word

I love when you hold me and scratch my head

I love when you get sleepy during a movie and crash out on my arm

I love hearing your snores even if you pretend you don’t

I love holding your hand in public and getting to show you off to my friends"

Jamie continued as he read off at least 40 more post its which you picked up one by one as he grabbed the next. When he went to grab another your hand reached out to stop his and for a moment you allowed yourself to enjoy his touch, "I know it's not as good as the football," Jamie said softly, "but I mean it all. And I hate myself for hurting you,"

"you should never hate yourself," you muttered making a small smile creep on Jamie's lips, "When did it stop being just a bet?" you asked, scared for the answer.

"During our first date," he said making you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "I swear. I was blind for not seeing you before but on that date, it was--you were incredible. I couldn't stop thinking about you all night. I tried to call of the bet, but Issac thought I was just scared to lose," Jamie rambled before pausing for a moment and sighing," I never wanted to hurt you. I promise. You have to believe me," he said as he reached for your hand.

"It's just hard," you said, your voice already choking up again making Jamie almost cry himself, "and I really want to believe you because for fucksake Jamie, I love you too," the words he had longed to hear shot daggers into his heart.

"If you want to never hear from me again, I’ll go," Jamie said, holding your hands tightly and making you finally meet his eyes again, "but if you'll have me ill spend every day making this up to you. I promise. You, this, us. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me,"

You paused for a moment as Jamie's heart pounded in his chest, "One more chance," you whispered making Jamie break out into a grin, but you quickly added, "but if you so much as step a toe out of line,"

"I won't," Jamie cut you off as he gripped your hands tightly, "I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll be the perfect boyfriend, honest," you couldn't help laughing a little at his eagerness. Jamie raised your hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to each of your knuckles, "

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fluff #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tart x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tart fluff #jamie tartt angst #ted lasso angst

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caapsiizzereads · 9 months

Text

Tell me that I’m all you want

Jamie Tartt x f!reader

Words: 3,8k

Warnings: language, angst, unrequited love (on both sides somehow)

Jamie Tartt coming back to Richmond was surprising news for everyone, including you, even though you learned about it a bit earlier than the others. You’ve only been working at AFC Richmond for a few months, so you haven’t actually ever met him, but his reputation precedes him. Fortunately, once all the legal bullshit is handled, he’s not going to be your problem to deal with.

Or so you thought.

Jamie has been back at Richmond for a few days now, and everybody fucking hates him. He can’t exactly blame them, but he’s trying his best here, and no one seems to give a shit.

Jamie comes in a bit earlier today. He wants to change and get out of the locker room before everybody else gets here. He’s tying his shoelaces when he hears the clicking sound of high-heeled shoes getting louder. He thought it was Keeley or, maybe, Rebecca, but instead he sees another familiar face. He doesn’t remember your name, but he recognizes you from the time you briefly met during the signing process. You’re like the club’s lawyer or something.

You didn’t expect any of the players to be in yet, so you’re a bit surprised when you see Jamie in the locker room. You knew that he started a few days ago, but you hadn’t crossed paths with him until now. Well, you weren’t exactly searching for him now either, you’re here to go over some stuff with Ted. So you nod at him in acknowledgment and turn towards the coaches’ office. There’s no one in there, though.

You turn back to Jamie, “Have you seen Ted?”

“I don’t think he’s here yet.”

“Shit. Um, can you tell him that I was looking for him when you see him?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks.” You’re about to leave when Jamie speaks up again.

“Wait.” You turn around to look at him. “Sorry, I don’t remember your name,” he admits.

You don’t seem bothered by that at all. “Right. It’s (Y/n), I’m the club’s–”

“You’re the lawyer, yeah, I remember,” he smiles at you.

You nod at him, and then your attention is averted by Ted’s cheerful greeting.

“Miss (Y/l/n).”

“Ted!” you point at him with your finger, “you’re exactly who I’ve been looking for.” The two of you walk away to his office.

The next morning, you’re walking in the parking lot when Jamie catches up with you.

“Morning,” he greets you.

“Morning.”

When you get to the entrance, he holds the door open for you. Both of your hands are busy, one with your handbag and the other with a coffee cup, so you appreciate the gesture.

“Thanks,” you smile at him.

You’re about to leave for your lunch break when you hear a knock on your open door. You’re surprised, to say the least, to see Jamie standing in the doorway.

“Hey. Are you busy?” he asks coyly.

“I was about to go out for lunch.”

“Awesome,” he grins and lifts his hand, a bag of food from the nearby restaurant in it, “I was getting lunch for myself and I thought that I could get some for you too,” he says it as if it’s not the fourth time you’re ever speaking to each other.

You look at him suspiciously, “I’ll never say no to a free lunch, but what’s the catch here?”

“Nothing! I just thought that we could have lunch together.” What you hear is that he wants company, and everybody else here wants nothing to do with him. You decide to take pity on him, your fucking empathy be damned.

“Alright,” you gesture for him to come in. A wide smile instantly grows on his face.

He takes the seat in front of you and lists the dishes that he got. You pick the one that sounds the most appealing, and he hands it to you.

“So how’s your day going,” he asks between chewing, obviously trying to start a conversation.

“It’s fine, just the usual stuff,” you reply. It would be polite to ask him back. He’s obviously trying here. He’s been nothing but nice to you so far. You sigh, accepting your fate. “How is it going for you back in Richmond? Settled in yet?”

“It’s fine, yeah. Yeah…” You both know that it’s bullshit, so you just stare at him with a straight face, waiting for the rest to come out. “It’s shit. Everybody hates me,” he gives up and then proceeds to go on a thirty-minute rant about his life.

You find yourself spacing out somewhere around minute fifteen. It reminds you of a few dates you had, if you think about it. You’re being polite to a guy once, and the next thing you know, he buys you a meal and spends an hour telling you his whole life story like you are his therapist.

Once Jamie’s done talking, he looks at you expectantly, like what you’re about to say is going to determine his foreseeable future.

“Let me check if I got this right. You were loaned here for a year, and you spent the whole time treating everyone like absolute shit. Then you got called back to the club that you loved so much, yet you still left them in the middle of the season to do some reality show, violating God knows how many contracts, by the way. And now you’re back here because, for obvious reasons, nobody else wants you, and you’re surprised that you’re not welcomed back with open arms?” you try to keep your tone neutral, but the irony is still apparent.

“But I apologized!”

You hum to yourself, your eyebrows involuntarily rising, impressed with how ignorant a person can be.

“What?” The look on your face obviously doesn't go unnoticed.

“You don’t have any friends, do you?” you deadpan.

Jamie immediately gets defensive, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“That you have no idea how human relationships work. You can’t treat people like garbage and then expect one “I’m sorry” to fix everything.”

Jamie opens his mouth again, and before the words are even out, you know that whatever he is about to say – it’s above your paygrade. You are not about to explain basic human decency to a 24-year-old. It’s a good thing that there is actually someone in this building who’s getting paid to deal with this nonsense, and that’s exactly where you send him.

“Can we… be friends?” Jamie asks before leaving.

“Yeah, sure,” you wave him off.

You said it without actually expecting anything to come out of it. But Jamie keeps coming back. Sometimes he brings you lunch or invites you out, and a couple of times he brings you coffee with a dessert before his practice. And all you need to do in return is listen to him talk (complain) about his day. You think about sending him off to Dr. Fieldstone again, but you like having your little treats, and Jamie seems to be satisfied enough with your company.

Then Ted pulls some “Led Tasso” thing. You have no idea what that means, and Jamie isn’t very good at explaining, but whatever it was, it seemed to help him fix the relationship with his teammates.

You think that now that Jamie is in his teammates’ good books again, his visits to your office will stop, but he surprises you by showing up again two days later.

Jamie’s visits do become less frequent, but they continue to happen nonetheless. Except now it seems more out of habit, or maybe even preference, than a lack of choices. And you’ve gotta admit, he’s starting to grow on you. You even find yourself expecting his little visits.

Sometimes he just sits in your office after practice, waiting for you to finish your work, so that you can go out afterwards. This makes your productivity drastically go down because the man can’t sit quietly for fifteen fucking minutes, but you don't have the heart to kick him out, so in the end, you just give up and leave work early.

During one of your lunchtime chats, you mention to Jamie that you bought a new couch, but the guy who was supposed to assemble it for you keeps postponing the date, and it’s getting on your nerves now. Jamie right away offers to help you with it, and after a little bit of convincing, you agree.

Jamie comes over to your place, it’s the first time you’ve met outside of work circumstances. Jamie is definitely not as good at building furniture as he had claimed to be, but two hours and two beers later, you still manage to put the couch together.

As a thank you for his help, you make dinner, and you spend the evening watching “Legally Blonde” (Jamie insists that it’s only appropriate) on your new couch.

That night starts a whole new pattern of you two hanging out outside of work. You spend time with Jamie Tartt. Outside of your work hours. On your own free will. And you like it! Now you have no excuses left for yourself. This little asshole has really become your friend.

It’s a Saturday night, and you’re out in the bar with the Richmond team. They won a match and decided to go out and celebrate, and Jamie obviously invited you too.

You’re sitting on the table with your feet resting on the bench that you’re supposed to sit on. Jamie’s sitting right next to you, his body occasionally touching your legs.

He makes some stupid joke, and it makes you laugh, not because it’s so funny but because of how dumb it is. He props his chin on your knee and looks up at you, grinning, pleased with himself for making you laugh. You look down at him, and without even thinking about it, you gently brush away a hair strand that’s fallen on his face. He smiles at you softly, which makes him look cute so you smile back at him and– Oh no. No, no, no, no.

You spend the next few days telling yourself that you’re just bored, that it’s okay, and it will go away. But weeks pass, and it doesn’t. You are extra aware of every smile Jamie gives you, every laugh you get out of him, every casual touch you've become so accustomed to. This is getting frustrating at this point. It’s just a stupid fucking crush, (y/n). Just get over it, for fuck’s sake.

You get a reminder of how fucked you are when one day Jamie tells you that he’s not happy about how things are between him and Keeley and he asks for your advice on how to mend things with her. Which is a totally reasonable thing to ask your friend. Because that’s what you are – friends. And you’re going to put your own bullshit aside and act like one.

You and Keeley are close enough for you to know that if you were to be honest with Jamie, you would say that she thinks of him a lot less than he thinks of her. But he obviously needs some closure there, so instead you advise him to just talk to her and apologize, while also reminding him that Keeley is with Roy now and he needs to respect their relationship too.

You mentally pat yourself on the back for handling the situation with dignity.

It all goes to shit on the fucking Valentine’s Day. You’ve never been a fan of the day, but this year is just something else.

Jamie invited you to go to some party with him, arguing that since you’re both single, you can go as each other’s “dates”. The implication there was that you come together and potentially leave with other people.

You didn’t have any better plans, and you recently bought a sexy red dress that you were waiting for a chance to wear, so you thought why the fuck not.

You knew that the dress was worth its money when, upon seeing you, Jamie not so subtly checked you out. “You look good.”

“Don’t I always?” you smirked at him.

You’ve been at the party for almost two hours, and you’re starting to think that Jamie has switched his plan to get a hookup to getting wasted instead, as he’s currently on his fifth drink. Another hour later, you all but drag him into a taxi. He’s talking nonsense and laughing at his own thoughts all the way to his place.

You lead him inside and make him sit by the kitchen island while you pour him a glass of water. He’s going to thank you for that tomorrow.

Apparently he decided to thank you for that tonight because when you turn back to him, he’s standing right next to you, and before you can react, his hands are on you and he kisses you.

He kisses you. And fucking let him. For, like, a whole five seconds you let him. Then your brain finally starts functioning properly again, and you push him away. He just stares at you, like he himself doesn’t understand what just happened.

“You’re drunk.” You harshly put the glass of water on the counter, “Drink this and go to sleep.”

You’re out of the house before Jamie says anything.

Jamie wakes up with a terrible hangover. You told him he’d regret it tomorrow, and tomorrow has come. Once he collects himself enough to get out of bed, he starts getting ready for practice. He enters the kitchen and sees an empty glass standing on the counter. That’s when the memories of the previous night come back to him all at once. Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!

It’s only after the practice that Jamie finally mans up enough to face you. Maybe ‘mans up’ is not the most fitting word because what actually happens is him standing at the doorstep of your office with his tail between his legs.

You look at him, your face unreadable.

“Hi,” he starts hesitantly.

“Hi.”

“Can I come in?”

“Since when do you ask?”

Jamie sits in front of you. You don’t say anything, so he takes it as his que to start groveling.

“I’m sorry. I was drunk, I didn’t think.” Obviously.

“It’s fine.”

“Are you mad?”

“I’m not.”

“Well, you seem mad.”

“Well, I am not. Can we just forget about it and move on, yeah?” It comes out a bit too harsh, but you really want for this conversation to end.

“Yeah, sure,” he sounds very unsure.

Jamie really didn’t expect you to be so mad about it. He fucked up, yeah, sure, but it was a stupid drunken mistake, surely you would understand. If anything, he expected you to say something along the lines of “I told you so” and tease him for it for another year. But it seems like you never want to speak about it again. Was him kissing you really that appalling to you? You would’ve pushed him away faster then. Why didn’t you? You weren’t that drunk. Unless… No. You can’t– You don’t– No way.

Jamie has never thought about you in that way. Okay, that’s a lie, he totally has. But you were right when you said that he didn’t really have any friends, and at that moment of time he really needed one a lot more than he needed a hookup, so he buried all the sexy thoughts about you and put all his efforts into befriending you instead. That was working out well for him until now.

One thing about Jamie, he always has everything written on his face. So when the next day he comes into your office with that weird look on his face, you know exactly what’s going on here. You pray that he at least won’t say anything because there’s only so much awkwardness that you can deal with. You stick with acting like nothing happened, and it seems to work because, thankfully, Jamie doesn’t say anything, and you keep talking as usual. Eventually, things go back to normal.

You know that Rebecca wants something from you when she knocks on the door before letting herself in to your office. This clue never fails because she asks you to be her moral support plus one to some charity event for rich people. She says you have a knack for dealing with pretentious assholes. You’d argue that it’s actually more of a professional skill. But either way, you have a weakness for beautiful women asking you to go to fancy events with them, so obviously you agree.

Little did you know.

You notice him for the first time around twenty minutes after you get there. A man, seemingly in his mid-thirties, very handsome. He’s talking to some couple across the room. You watch him for a while before he looks away from his companions and your eyes meet. You look at each other for a few seconds before he turns back to the couple. Throughout the next hour, your eyes find each other in the crowd four more times, until you finally get a chance to talk.

He introduces himself as Jason, and you chat for some time, getting all the small talk out of the way. The waiter approaches you, offering you another glass of champagne, but you decline.

“There’s only so much champagne a girl can have on an empty stomach,” you joke.

“Fancy a dinner?” Oh, that’s smooth.

“Right now?”

“I know a good place.”

“Lead the way then.” You hope Rebecca will forgive you for dumping her.

He offers you his elbow, and you readily wrap your arm around it. You wave at Rebecca on your way out, letting her know that you’re leaving. She smiles at you and nods approvingly, she’s glad that at least one of you is having fun.

The place is, in fact, good, and the dinner goes really well. So well that it turns into breakfast and exchanged numbers.

Jamie’s sitting in your office rambling about the upcoming match while you’re eating your lunch. He’s been speaking for about five minutes when he notices the unusual amount of enthusiasm in your reactions.

He gives you a suspicious glance, “You seem to be in a good mood today.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah.”

It looks like you think on it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that you are indeed in a particularly good mood. Something along your train of thought makes you smile, but you choose not to elaborate and just prompt Jamie to go on.

A week later, Jamie comes to your office to wait for you to finish your work, only to find you already on your way out. He asks you where you’re leaving so early, and you smile at him mischievously and tell him that you have plans.

The next day, Jamie’s at your office the first thing after practice, ready to interrogate you about those mysterious plans of yours. You tell him that you met a guy at that event you went to with Rebecca and you’ve been going out with him. You sound pretty excited talking about the guy, which makes Jamie feel some weird type of way, but he brushes it off. He’s glad you’re having fun, however long that lasts.

It’s been two months since you first met Jason, and it just might be the happiest you’ve ever been in a relationship. Because that’s where you two are at right now – a relationship. No matter how busy he is at work, he always finds time for you. You go out on dates to all kinds of fancy places, he sends you fresh flowers for your office every week, and when he’s away for business, you get surprise dinner deliveries. Sometimes you even go with him, having already visited New York and Rome. There was also one time where you mentioned being tired of the constant London rains, so he took you to Sicily for a weekend. You have been over the moon.

Jamie met him for the first time when he wanted to hang out with you after work, but Jason beat him to it, as he was already waiting for you at your office. After that, Jamie saw him when he came to the matches with you or when he was picking you up from work. For some reason, Jamie found himself being unreasonably skeptical of the guy. But no matter how hard Jamie tried to find something wrong with him, he couldn’t. Jason treats you in the best way possible, he makes you very happy, and everybody else likes him: Rebecca, Keeley, even Roy shook his hand.

You and Jamie are hanging out at your place with your usual program of takeout, beer, and a movie. Except that Jamie hasn’t been paying attention to the movie for a while now, too preoccupied with other thoughts.

“So it’s serious, between you and Jason?”

You’re a bit taken aback by the question that seemingly came out of nowhere, but then you nod in answer, “Yeah, I think so”.

“Do you… like him?” Jamie can’t bring himself to use any other word.

You chuckle, and a soft smile remains on your face, “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Good, yeah. That’s good,” Jamie smiles at you. It’s not good. It’s not good at all. It fucking stings.

You don’t dump Jamie. You spend less time with him, yes, because now there is someone else you want to spend time with, but he’s still your friend. So why does he feel like he’s lost you?

He knows why. The same reason why when you happily tell him something about your relationship, Jamie feels a lump in his throat. The same reason why he feels a little too disappointed when you can’t hang out with him because you have plans with Jason. The same reason why he’s been coming back to your office this whole time. He is in love with you. He is in love with you, and he’s been too much of a fucking idiot to realize it before it was too late.

Richmond has won the last match of the season. They are being promoted back to the Premier League. That calls for a celebration. Everyone is rightfully cheerful, getting drunk, singing Richmond chants, dancing.

Jamie’s sitting by himself with a drink in his hand, and his eyes are fixed on you. You’re standing with your arms around Jason’s neck and his arms around your waist, your faces are inches apart. You murmur something to each other between smiles and kisses. You two look annoyingly in love.

Part of Jamie is happy for you because that’s what you deserve. To be valued, and appreciated, and loved wholeheartedly. Another part of him wants nothing more than to be in Jason’s place right now. To be the one being loved by you and to love you with all he has in return. To tell you every day how wonderful you are and to be able to make you smile like that.

He did it to himself, didn’t he? If only he wasn’t so stuck in his own bullshit to see what was right in front of him. But that chance is gone now, and all he can do is watch.

A/N: and I’m in the corner watching you kiss her oh-oh-oohh

A/N 2: i started hating this fic by the time i finished it...

A/N 3: will there be a part 2?? who knows…

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso fic

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writeroutoftime · 7 months

Text

flufftober day 2 - family, friends, loved ones

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

words: 0.7k

oOoOo

“Sometimes it feels like we’re never going to get married.” you lamented to Keeley and Rebecca as the three of you sat around Rebecca’s flat, sipping on wine with a trashy movie on in the background.

Being engaged to one of the biggest, hotshot players in the league was not all it was cracked up to be. Just over a year ago, Jamie had gotten down on one knee and popped the question, but between your schedule and his, you were in a perpetual state of engagement.

“Babes, it’ll all work out, I know it. But as long as the two of you know the commitment you want to make to each other, that’s all that matters, right?” Keeley reassured you, rubbing a soothing touch up and down your arm.

“I suppose you're right.”

“Of course she is.” Rebecca interjected. “My wedding to Rupert happened weeks after he proposed, cost a fortune, was a whole fucking affair turned out to be a pile of shit.”

Though you and Keely tried to keep a straight face, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Rebecca’s mini rant, her eventually joining in. It made you feel a bit better, and the thought slowly began to dissipate from your mind.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you thought anything about your conversation with Keeley and Rebecca. You and Jamie had been called into the Dog Track, but neither of you were sure as to why. It was an off week for a match and a rare, free Saturday for the team to enjoy.

The two of you walked into the building, hand in hand, only to be met with Keeley and Roy, with a huge grin and a half scowl on their faces respectively.

“Finally!” Keeley cried, reaching to grab your hand and pull you away. Before Jamie could even protest, the blonde threw a quick “We’ll see you two later.” over her shoulder.

All your questions went unanswered until Keeley pulled you into Rebecca’s office, where the room in question stood waiting with three glasses of champagne and a mischievous smile on her face. You glanced around the room, eyes narrowed in confusion until you spotted a dress hanging a ways away - a white dress.

“Umm, guys, what’s going on?”

The two women looked at each other before looking back at you. “Do you trust us?” Rebecca asked.

oOoOo

Forty minutes later and you found yourself outside on the pitch, Jamie being led out by Roy and some of the other players. The two of you met in the middle and found Ted waiting there in a nice suit, and a cheesy grin on his face.

“Hey, y’all,” Ted started. “I know this isn’t necessarily the big day you probably dreamed of, but we thought we’d throw you this little party. Now Beard here has gotten himself ordained and we’re all ready to perform a little ceremony so that one of our favorite couples can call themselves hitched.” he smiled, before rushing to add on “‘Course, you don’t have to go through with this. We don’t mean to overstep, just wanted to do something nice for you two.”

You were stunned and overwhelmed by the love you felt from this team, and it was hard to stop the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. A huge grin overtook your features and you turned to look at your fiance, giving him a questioning look. Jamie looked towards his team, back at you, and smiled with the slightest nod. Both of you knew what your answer was.

“We’d love to.” Jamie said and was quickly drowned out by the cheers of everyone waiting to hear your decision.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Jamie was rushed down to the makeshift aisle with Beard while Keeley and Rebecca quickly walked down as your ‘bridesmaids,’ and Ted stood back with you offering you his arm.

“Hope you don’t mind, but can I walk you down?” he asked.

By that point, tears of joy and love were streaming down your face as you could only nod in response. It might not have been the ceremony you were expecting, but all that mattered was that you were surrounded by the people who loved you and you, finally, got to join your life with the man you loved.

#flufftober2023 #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso imagine #rita writes

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yelena-bellova · 11 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Learning Curve

Plot: With the prospect of both a biography and a new team member, Y/n learns more about the modus operandi of AFC Richmond.

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: f!reader, language, minor innuendo, (16+)

A/N: This is really the last chapter before things start to get going, so hang tight through the filler, because we’re about to take off lol

—————

Though she spent very little time there, the KJPR office was somewhat of a safe haven for Y/n.

Working at Nelson Road Stadium had proven to bring a level of chaos Y/n wasn’t used to. When she’d make the drive across town for her weekly meetings with Keeley, she was assured the only focus would be work.

So when Y/n entered Keeley’s office and found her boss on the couch, holding two cups of coffee, she was a bit thrown.

“Hi!” Keeley greeted.

“Morning,” Y/n replied, shutting the door behind her, “What’s this?”

“I thought we could have breakfast,” Keeley smiled, holding up the cups, “I want to hear all about your first week.”

Y/n tried to hide her true feelings on the matter, knowing Keeley had all the right intentions. It wasn’t many bosses who cared so much about their employees.

“Okay,” Y/n conceded, setting her things on the far end of the couch and joining Keeley in the middle.

“I didn’t know how you liked it, so I just got cream and sugar,” Keeley explained as she handed Y/n the takeaway cup, “I hope you’re good with dairy.”

“I’m fine,” Y/n chuckled, taking a sip of the drink, “It’s lovely.”

Keeley grinned victoriously. “So,” she kicked off her ridiculously high heels and tucked her feet under her, “How’s it going? Are you loving it?”

Love was a strong word in the case of Y/n’s feelings towards AFC Richmond. She liked Rebecca, she liked Higgins, she…could tolerate Ted. Coach Beard, whose lack of first name didn’t seem to bother anyone, and Roy Kent seemed decent. Some of the Greyhounds were more friendly than others. The work was something she was perfectly skilled at. But Y/n couldn’t say she was in love with any part of the job.

“It’s…” Y/n struggled to answer truthfully while staying grateful, “Definitely a unique place.”

“It’s a lot to get used to if you’ve never been in that world,” Keeley replied, picking up on the top notes of what Y/n was saying.

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded, relaxing a little, “That’s not to say that I’m not happy there. I just think it’s going to take a little while to adjust.”

Keeley took a long sip of her drink before speaking, “Well, if there’s one thing I learned being there, it’s that you’ve got to leave yourself open to new things. I mean, when I first met Rebecca, I was fucking terrified of her. Felt like I was gonna piss myself anytime she looked at me.”

Y/n scrunched her brows in confusion.

“But,” Keeley rested an arm on the back of the sofa, “Once I decided I wasn’t going to be intimidated by her anymore, we became best friends. Now I can’t imagine my life without her.”

“That’s wonderful,” Y/n smiled softly down at her coffee cup, trying to hold her tongue as much as she could, “For you guys, but…I can’t say that I’m looking for anything more from Richmond than a decent place to work.”

One look at Keeley’s face and it was clear nothing about that answer was computing. “Why?”

Y/n slowly shrugged as she searched for the proper answer. “I just…I don’t know, I just feel like there’s your personal life and your professional life and the two don’t really go together. That’s not to say it doesn’t work for some people,” she gestured towards Keeley with her cup, “It clearly did for you. Just…I don’t see that in the cards for me.”

Watching Y/n as she sipped her coffee, Keeley felt reminiscent of the very time she’d just described. She’d cracked Rebecca open, and this felt like another grand opportunity.

“Well,” Keeley smiled knowingly, “I think it’s worth investing time in the people you work with. Like us,” she reached forwards and tapped Y/n’s knee, “I want us to be friends.”

Y/n chuckled, feeling trapped between a very pink rock and an equally pink hard place.

“Even if it takes the whole season,” Keeley continued, narrowing her eyes, “And endless weekends sat in the owner’s box together…”

“This is getting into HR territory,” Y/n smirked.

“Shows what you know,” Keeley replied smugly, “We don’t have an HR department yet.”

Unable to stop herself, Y/n joined in with Keeley’s laughter.

“Now,” Keeley bent down and slipped her heels back on, “We’ve got a meeting to get to.”

Rising from the sofa, Y/n felt like she was going to get whiplash from how fast the atmosphere shifted from work to anything but.

—————————

Keeley and Y/n made the short drive to Nelson Road and went straight up to Rebecca’s office. Y/n had daily meetings with the Greyhound’s owner and Higgins, but Keeley only popped in once a week.

“Morning,” Keeley knocked on Rebecca’s door, but entered without asking.

“Good morning,” Rebecca said in a voice Y/n had quickly learned only came out when she was stressed.

“Something wrong?” Y/n asked as she set her purse by the coffee table.

Rebecca took a breath, “Trent Crimm will be joining our meeting this morning. Apparently he has a proposition he’d like to talk to us about.”

Y/n confusedly looked to Keeley before bouncing back to Rebecca.

“Trent previously worked for The Independent,” she continued, “I don’t know if you read the article about Ted’s panic attacks last season, but he was at the helm.”

In fact, Y/n hadn’t read anything about Ted’s panic attacks until recently. And if she had heard the name ‘Trent Crimm,’ it hadn’t made a lasting impression.

“So…” Y/n started, “Do we like him or…?”

“I suppose it’s neutral,” Rebecca sighed, “Or that could change within the hour. We’ll see.”

Y/n gave a thin lipped smile, “Fun.”

By the time the three letters hit the air. Higgins was knocking on Rebecca’s door, Trent Crimm in tow.

“Good morning, all,” he greeted, “I’ve brought our special guest.”

Rebecca stood to her feet, smoothing her blouse as she did, “Trent. Always a pleasure.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” Trent said, his voice smooth and even as he shook Rebecca’s hand.

“I believe you’ve met Keeley Jones,” Rebecca gestured to her friend, “But you haven’t met our latest hire. This is Miss Y/n Y/l/n, she’s heading up PR alongside Keeley.”

Y/n stretched her hand over Rebecca’s desk to take Trent’s.

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Y/l/n,” the former journalist greeted.

“You as well,” Y/n replied, keeping an even expression.

Rebecca gestured towards the chair on the opposite side of the desk, “Please.”

Trent took a seat while Y/n, Keeley and Higgins formed a united front on either side of Rebecca

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I requested to meet with you,” Trent said, pausing briefly after, “As you know, I recently left my position at The Independent in favor of pursuing other creative avenues. However, having spent much time here, as well as other clubs, I know how unique AFC Richmond is.”

Unique. The same word Y/n had used to describe her feelings on Richmond. So she wasn’t the only one who saw it…

“Not only this past season,” Trent continued, “Being relegated only to make a triumphant return, but the team, the coaches…” Trent spread his hands, “It’s all quite special in contrast to other clubs.”

Finally, Trent paused the flattery and got to the heart of the matter. “I’m quite interested in writing a book about AFC Richmond. It would, of course, contain some of the club’s rich history, but I’d specifically like to focus on this season, which would entail shadowing the club for its entirety.”

Red lights. Big, red flashing lights went off in Y/n’s head.

“Well,” Rebecca stuttered, reaching for her tea cup, “That is…certainly a proposition.”

“Quite,” Higgins agreed, that nervous smile pasted on his face.

“It’s wonderful to hear,” Y/n added, glancing briefly over to Keeley and seeing the same panic in her eyes, “That the club’s so highly regarded.”

Trent smiled easily as he waited for an answer.

“But,” Rebecca said rather loudly, before catching herself, “I feel that the final say can’t come from me. I think it’s only right that Coach Lasso be the one who decides.”

“Yes,” Keeley interjected, “That’s a very good point.”

Speak of the devil, or whatever inhumanly cheery being he channeled each morning, The Final Say rapped his knuckles on the door.

“Good morning, Viet-“ Ted began as he strolled in.

All at once, in nervous relief, Rebecca, Keeley, Higgins and Y/n all shouted, “Ted!”

“Hey, look who’s here,” Ted grinned, pointing to Keeley, “Hi, Keeley.”

“Hello, Ted,” Trent turned in his chair.

Ted stopped in place, before shaking the man’s hand, “Trent Crimm. Are you kiddin’ me? Hey, nice to see you, man. You know, they got a big ol’ Ziploc bag full of your hair ties down at the lost and found. You should pop on down, i-if you still want ‘em.”

Ted went about placing the daily delivery of biscuits on Rebecca’s desk, something Y/n still didn’t understand.

“Mr. Crimm has requested to follow the club this year,” Rebecca paraphrased, grinning unnaturally large at Ted, “He wants to write a book about us.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ted raised a curious eyebrow.

“I think there’s a story here worth telling, Ted,” Trent said.

“Yes,” Rebecca smiled, “And we all,” she gestured to her own team, “Love the idea, but obviously as manager, we thought you should have the final decision.”

Ted sucked his teeth, “Oh, okay.”

As he began to think it over, and while Trent’s back was turned on the group, Keeley, Rebecca, Higgins and Y/n began to mouth and gesture a silent chorus of ‘no’ to Ted.

“I mean, geez, you know…” Ted stalled, his eyes bouncing between his co-workers and Trent.

It was a nightmare waiting to unfold, Y/n tried to communicate that passionately with each shake of her head. All eyes were already on Richmond, waiting for them to mess up. Waiting for some drama that could be exploited. They didn’t need someone describing every failure in graphic detail, catching every ugly moment…

Ted felt otherwise.

“Sure, what the heck? Why not?”

Y/n grimaced.

“When can you start?” Ted asked, “No time like the present. Except 11:11, that’s my wishing time. Or 23:11, if I’m at a military base or Euro Disney.”

“Right, well,” Rebecca breathed, “Decision made. Wonderful,” she smiled at the newest addition to the Richmond fold, “Trent, welcome.”

Y/n kept the same polite smile, praying her face held.

The chime of Higgins’ mobile broke the awkward silence.

“Holy shit,” the man exclaimed, “Zava is leaving Juventus.”

“Whoa,” Keeley cried, reaching for her phone in time with Rebecca.

“Wait,” Y/n paused, “‘Zava’ Zava?”

Ted gasped, “What about their kids?” He earned himself a brief glare from the foursome across from him, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what any of those things meant. I thought it was like Greek mythology or something. I was just lost. I just went with that. Sorry.”

“Zava’s a world class striker who’s about to leave his club in Italy,” Trent explained for Ted’s benefit, but Y/n listened as well. She knew nothing more than the name.

“Ooh,” Ted replied, “Cacio later, Pepe.”

“Apparently,” Higgins began to read from the headlines, “He wants to play in the Premier League because his wife binged The Office and she wants to live in England.”

“I think you mean Scranton, Pennsylvania, buddy,” Ted pointed toward Higgins.

“We didn’t do it first, Ted,” Y/n replied, glancing up from Google quickly, “Ricky Gervais?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Ted remembered, “Y’all did a premake over here.”

Higgins brought them back to the original topic. “If we got Zava,” he breathed, “That would be amazing.”

“He would be huge for the club’s brand,” Keeley added, “He’s got, like, 90 million followers. One time he just posted the word ‘7 million likes.’ It got 10 million likes.”

“Yes, but he is very expensive,” Rebecca countered, “And isn’t he supposed to be a bit of a diva?”

Y/n was scanning the top search results for the star player, already not thrilled with the level of consistent inconsistency she saw. But Keeley was right, he was on his way to Beckham level status.

“Yes, huge diva,” the blonde answered, “Enormous. He goes through teams like you go through manicurists.”

“The fumes make me dizzy,” Rebecca defended, “And I overshare,” she quickly looked to Trent, “Please don’t print that.”

“We have to balance what he’d do for the brand versus the enviroment he’d create,” Y/n spoke up, “But, yes, generally speaking, he’d be incredible.”

“Zava has gone through 14 teams in 15 years,” Higgins spoke for the other side, “Leaving behind nothing but chaos and trophies,” longing developed in the man’s eyes, “Beautiful, shiny trophies.”

Rebecca sighed, “Yes, but, Leslie, who wants to deal with all that drama?”

“Apparently, everyone who can afford him,” Higgins answered, scrolling an article, “Chelsea, Arsenal, United, West Ham…”

“I say, let’s just go for it,” Rebecca said, barely letting a beat pass after the utterance of her ex’s team, “I mean, maybe he’s a handful, but who doesn’t love a handful?”

“Well, I mean, if you’re talking salted peanuts,” Ted replied, “Yes, please. If you’re talking Skittles though, no thank you. You know, the dye melts and it gets all over your fingers, makes ‘em all sticky,” Ted laughed before pointing to Trent, “And that, you can print.”

“Wonderful,” Higgins decided, “Let’s set up a meeting.”

“Great,” Rebecca cheered as the rest of the room voiced their own enthusiasm, “Let’s go get Zava. Zava-dabba-doo!”

Keeley and Y/n each collected their things and headed for the door with Higgins and Ted.

“This is exciting,” Keeley said cheerily.

“Potentially a huge headache,” Y/n replied, ever the more pessimistic, “But it could be great.”

“So, am I to assume,” Trent asked Rebecca, not having moved from his spot, “You’re going to pursue a notoriously mercurial player you can’t really afford simply because the team your ex-husband owns wants him?”

From the door, Ted, Higgins, Y/n and Keeley all gave an encore of the previous performance, gesturing wildly to Rebecca to answer ‘no.’

Following Ted’s lead, Rebecca responded truthfully. “Yes.”

A second of silence passed before Trent gave an approving smile, “Love that.”

Feeling safe leaving Rebecca and Trent alone, Y/n followed the group out and down the stairs. Keeley informed her along the way that she was off to oversee a commercial shoot, but to text her if she had any questions. Regardless of Y/n’s reservations, she admired that Keeley was a hands-on boss.

Once in her office, Y/n set down her things and tried to ignore the nagging feeling in her gut that she needed to speak to Ted. He’d gone forward with Trent Crimm’s book idea without even considering the possible repercussions for the club. One week on the job had shown Y/n that Ted was optimistic to a fault.

“He knows what he’s doing, he knows what he’s doing,” Y/n muttered to herself, taking a deep breath and sitting down at her desk. She’d barely made contact with the chair before she was back up, “Nope.”

Descending down the staircase with purpose in each step, Y/n made a beeline for the coach’s office, passing Keeley and Isaac. She knocked on the door twice before poking her head in.

“Well, hey there, Y/n,” Ted greeted from his office, waving her over, “Come on in.”

“Hi,” Y/n smiled, shutting the door behind her and coming to stand before Ted and Coach Beard’s adjoined desks. The latter wasn’t in yet. “Do you have a second?”

“Hey, for a fellow ex-pat, you can have two,” Ted joked.

Y/n had prayed on multiple occasions that she’d learn to appreciate Ted’s off-beat humor as everyone else seemed to. God had yet to deliver.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re considering,” Y/n gestured circularly with her hands, “All the angles of what allowing Mr. Crimm to follow us this season means.”

“Okay,” Ted replied, moving to sit down at his desk, “Speak your mind, small fry.”

“Look, I know that a book all about Richmond sounds flattering,” Y/n explained, “And it is, but…regardless of whether he currently works for a publication or not, Trent is, at his core, a journalist. And some journalists may say they’re out to capture the good, but most of them are only interested in capturing the bad. And he’s going to be here for,” Y/n shut her eyes to accentuate the point, “Every single moment of the season. Which means every slip of the tongue, every mistake, basically,” she gestured between Ted and Coach Beard’s chair, “Any wrong move you or the team make will be put into print and potentially inflated to make you look even worse. It’s just…” Y/n took a breath, “Not the best idea.”

To his credit, Ted not only listened to Y/n’s points, but seemed to genuinely consider them.

“Well, I appreciate you bringin’ all that up, Y/n,” Ted finally replied, “Really. But I’ve known Trent a while and he’s a good egg. He’s not gonna try and paint us any other way than which we are.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “This is the same man who wrote about you having a panic attack on the pitch.”

“Oh,” Ted waved the memory off, “He was just doin’ his job. Ain’t no water needs to pass under that bridge.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n replied, her mouth hanging open at the lack of thought that was going into this.

“All that aside, I think Trent’s gonna do a bang-up job,” Ted smiled, “And if anything comes up, we’ll make sure to let him know to leave it out.”

“Okay,” Y/n clapped her hands together before holding them up, “Forget I said anything.”

“Wait, what was that?” Ted asked, pressing a hand to his ear for added comedic effect.

Y/n threw him a courtesy chuckle as she made for the door, letting the faux smile fall as soon as her back was turned. She could officially go on record of saying she’d tried to save the club’s reputation. If Ted wanted to sabotage that, it wouldn’t fall on her head…

Emerging in the hallway, Y/n was more in her head than her surroundings. A solid blonde and blue blur in her peripheral vision, Jamie Tartt, brought her back. He was laser-locked on something down the hall.

Y/n came to a stop, glancing down the way from them to see the back of Roy Kent, bobbing down the hall, and Keeley standing by herself, with a bag over her shoulder.

“What are you looking at?” Y/n asked, more confused than curious.

“Science,” Jamie mumbled, his eyes following Keeley as she turned on her heel.

Y/n squinted at the reply, “Huh?”

“I think Roy and Keeley broke up,” Jamie answered.

“They were dating?” Y/n asked, her eyes now trailing Keeley as well.

The question finally broke Jamie’s focus and he turned to Y/n, “How could you not know that? I thought you and Keeley were mates.”

“She’s my boss,” Y/n gave a sideways glance, “Her personal life is none of my business.”

Y/n turned to Jamie, who was already tuned out of the conversation. “But something tells me it’s yours so,” she clutched the rail and swung up the stairs, “Have a good one.”

Behind her, Jamie mumbled some reply as they went on their separate ways.

—————————

Later in the day, after extensive research on Zava amongst other tasks, Y/n’s phone buzzed with a text from Keeley.

Are you free for a drink after work?

She sighed tiredly, out of all the people trying to befriend her, Keeley’s efforts were the hardest to combat. Maybe because she was sunshine personified, maybe because Y/n could tell she didn’t have an dis-genuine bone in her body…all she knew was she truly didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

A second text came through, offering salvation.

Promise it’s work related.

Y/n sent a reply immediately.

Sounds good. Text me where.

Once quitting time came around, Y/n drove to the posher side of Richmond and the address of the bar Keeley had given her. It was more upscale than the Crown and Anchor, but not so much so that it would be obscenely priced.

To her credit, Keeley dove right into the business of it all when they sat down. She told Y/n how at the commerical shoot, she’d run into an old friend from her modeling days and had offered her a job with KJPR. Something along the lines of a liaison coordinator between clients.

“Okay,” Y/n shrugged, “I don’t really see how this involves me though.”

“Well,” Keeley slid her martini glass away, “I was wondering, since you’ve got so much experience, if you wouldn’t mind helping me help her get adjusted? It’s a bit of a jump from her previous jobs and I just want to make sure she does well.”

While Keeley could sometimes appear naive, she wasn’t to be underestimated. Y/n knew this already. She was never in the KJPR office for more than twenty minutes at a time. She barely knew the names of the other employees. Keeley knew all this as well.

Y/n narrowed her eyes at her boss, “That’s not why you asked me out tonight.”

Keeley held her gaze a few seconds before breaking with a small smile, “No, it’s not. I just said that so you’d come.”

Y/n rolled her eyes only in half-annoyance as Keeley cackled.

“But I really would appreciate your help with Shandy whenever you’re around,” Keeley said firmly, “She’d benefit a lot, learning from you.”

“Sure,” Y/n shrugged, not even realizing that she was smiling, “Fine. But if she’s as deceitful as you, I want nothing to do with her.”

Keeley chuckled, “Fair. How’d your day go?”

“Fine,” Y/n sighed, twirling the olive on the toothpick of her drink, “Sounds like you had a better one though.”

“Yeah,” Keeley replied, her voice dropping and her eyes suddenly turning sad.

Y/n didn’t need to be told not to pry into anyone’s life, it was a professional courtesy she wanted herself. But if the members of AFC Richmond were so personally intwined, there was a certain amount she had to know.

“Can I ask you something?” Y/n carefully broached the topic.

“Yeah, of course,” Keeley replied softly.

“You and Coach Kent…” Y/n awkwardly ran her finger along the bottom of her glass, “Were you…?”

Keeley gave an almost imperceptible nod, averting her gaze back to her drink.

“I don’t need to know anything,” Y/n held her hands up, “I-“

“No, it’s fine,” Keeley dismissed her, “I mean, it sucks, but it also helps to talk about it.”

Not the intended result, but Y/n wasn’t going to shut Keeley down. It felt like girl code.

“I don’t know, it just…” Keeley pressed a hand to the side of her face, “Really came out of nowhere. I keep thinking back and trying to find where things started going wrong, but I can’t find anything. I mean, I’m wracking my brain constantly just wondering what I did wrong.”

“Look, I don’t know the situation,” Y/n replied, “The little I know about Coach Kent, he seems like a…” she searched for the right word, “Somewhat difficult person.”

Keeley breathed a laugh, “Yeah, sometimes. But not how you’d think.”

“But…maybe things just didn’t work because they didn’t work?” Y/n suggested, trying to ease a fellow woman’s pain a little, “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Keeley replied, not yet meeting Y/n’s eyes, “I just…”

She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Judging by the longing in her eyes, Y/n knew the next words would only reflect the love that remained on her end.

“Right, enough about me,” Keeley said, perking back up, “I just spilled my guts to you,” she poked Y/n’s arm, “Now you’ve gotta give me something.”

“I’ve got nothing to give,” Y/n chuckled and took a sip of her drink.

“Oh, there’s gotta be something,” Keeley squinted, “Have any of the players started hitting on you yet?”

Y/n nearly choked, “Thankfully no.”

“Are there any you want to hit on you?”

This time, Y/n was thankful she didn’t have anything in her mouth or else she definitely would have choked. “No,” she replied, her voice going up in pitch.

“Oh, come on,” Keeley laughed, “There’s gotta be someone.”

“Absolutely not,” Y/n swiped a hand through the air, “Unless you count Dani Rojas picking me up and spinning me around like he’d just come home from war, there’s been nothing.”

“Oh, that’s just Dani,” Keeley smiled, “He’s a sweetheart. But I’d bet you five quid, someone’s already got their eye on you.”

Y/n scrunched up her face at the possibilities of the thought. “Oh, don’t say that.”

“What?” Keeley shrugged, “You’re mad fit, you’re there all the time…someone’s gonna notice you.”

“Subject change,” Y/n shook her head,“Dear God.”

The night went on like that: Keeley trying to see how uncomfortable she could make Y/n until she laughed, which only resulted in them both laughing.

—————————

Richmond’s first match of the season arrived on a clear Sunday afternoon in Chelsea.

Y/n got herself to the stadium, clutching her Richmond badge just in case Rebecca had forgotten to put her name on the list. But sure enough, she sailed right on through security and rode the elevator all the way up to the VIP box. Coming down the aisles of seats, Y/n spotted the trio that were quickly becoming her group. Higgins, Keeley and Rebecca were huddled together in deep discussion.

“What’d I miss?” Y/n asked as they parted, taking the vacant seat next to Rebecca.

“According to Higgin’s wife’s, friend’s, sister’s airline stewardess’ massage therapist,” Rebecca sputtered, “Zava’s going to sign with Chelsea.”

“Oh,” Y/n sighed, feeling a bit deflated, “That’s too bad.”

It didn’t take long for the crowd to begin chanting, though neither team had come onto the pitch yet. Y/n glanced down at the field and spotted Roy Kent, facing the crowd and giving a reserved salute. She’d forgotten he was a Chelsea legend.

Y/n glanced over to Keeley, who was firmly squeezing Rebecca’s hand, and felt a twinge of sympathy pain.

But as quick as the crowd had been to cheer on Roy, their attention flipped as Zava himself came through the VIP section, taking a seat in the front row.

Y/n sighed, “Well, that’s a bit of salt in the wound.”

Not before long, the match kicked off. It had been a solid year since Y/n had been to a game, and even longer since she’d been remotely interested. But working for a club, she had to get back into it to some extent. She reacquainted herself with the rules as the clock ticked, her eyes bouncing between players. By the end of the first half, it was 1-0 in favor of Chelsea.

A loud gag came from Higgins, breaking Y/n out of her thoughts. “Is he okay?”

Rebecca didn’t seem at all concerned, “What now?”

“I might’ve jinxed it,” Higgins replied nervously, looking over towards where Zava was seated.

Y/n leaned forward to see an older man approaching the striker, shaking his hand confidently.

“I knew it,” Rebecca complained.

“I’m confused, who’s-“

Y/n’s sentence stopped in its tracks as the older man took off his sunglasses, revealing himself to be Rupert Mannion.

“Oh,” Y/n’s mouth hung around the vowel.

“Would you please go and find out as much as you can from your vast network of lip-reading massage therapists?” Rebecca asked of Higgins, who promptly departed with his phone.

Y/n took the opportunity to scan Rupert from a distance. He looked perfectly pleasant and somehow, that let Y/n know he was as dangerous as he’d been made out to be.

“Rupert’s gonna land Zava,” Rebecca stated.

“You don’t know that,” Keeley replied.

Rebecca sighed, launching into a story, “Years ago when I was bartending in that private club, Rupert and his then wife came into the bar,” she laughed, “He was the life and soul of the party. Buying rounds of drinks for everyone, telling stories. Just charm personified. And he left me a massive tip. And then about a week later, he came back without his wife and asked me out. I, of course, said no and then he left.

“What a dick,” Keeley replied.

“I’ll second that,” Y/n raised an eyebrow, glancing over at the dick in question.

“But then he came back the next night, and the next night, and the next,” Rebecca continued, “And he would just sit at the bar with a drink and chatted to me till close. And he just said ‘It doesn’t matter if you ever go out with me. It’s just worth it being here to get to know you.’”

Y/n and Keeley looked out at the air ahead of them, both contemplating the almost magic of it.

“It’s a fine line between stalking and romance,” Keeley mused.

“And after about six weeks of that,” Rebecca was building towards the conclusion, “He asked me out again. And I said yes without any hesitation because by that point…I just felt so lucky because he wanted me.”

Y/n gazed over at Rebecca, feeling the pang of understanding only women could share. The same one she felt for Keeley.

“He made me feel special,” Rebecca said, old emotion welling in her throat, “Chosen,” she glanced over at where her ex stood, “He made me feel like that.”

Y/n and Keeley looked over to a grinning Rupert, charming many laughs out of Zava.

While Keeley reached over and took her best friend’s hand, Y/n met Rebecca’s eyes and gave her the warmest smile she’d given anyone at Richmond so far. Through that, she hoped, Rebecca would know she was with her.

Not a moment later, Higgins shimmied his way back through their row.

“Well?” Rebecca asked as the three women straightened.

“I just got off the phone with my son’s karate teacher,” Higgins began to recall the trail of communication, “Who used to date the woman who ran Zava’s avocado ranch-”

“Would you please get on with it?” Rebecca rushed.

“He might be going to West Ham,” Higgins nervously answered.

“Damn,” Y/n fell back in her seat, more disappointed with more context.

“Shit,” Keeley exclaimed.

“I knew it,” Rebecca shrugged, entirely unsurprised. “Rupert always gets what he wants.”

The four of them sat there, wallowing in defeat, before Rebecca’s posture perked up again.

“You know what,” she pulled her purse from the floor, “If Rupert can sweet-talk Zava into joining his club, then so can I.”

“Yes,” Keeley cheered her friend on, standing up to let her out the row.

“Alright,” Y/n nodded, proud that Rebecca was willing to fight for the club. Better yet, despite her desperation, she could handle it with grace.

The second half began and the Greyhounds came out on the attack with a new vigor. Y/n wasn’t sure what happened in the locker rooms between halves, but something had changed during the fifteen minute break and it was working for them. Colin delivered the ball to Jamie, who passed it to Sam, who made a spectacular kick that bounced off the goal post, hitting Dani in the face, which resulted in an even more spectacular rebound into the net.

Keeley was out of her seat cheering, hugging Higgins before tugging on Y/n’s hands excitedly. Even though she was only getting re-familiarized with the sport, Y/n felt a pit of joy in her stomach as she watched the team celebrating on the pitch.

After the point, Rebecca made her way back down the row and rejoined the group.

“Well?” Y/n asked, extending her hands in anticipation.

“Did you sweet talk him?” Higgins asked.

“Uh,” Rebecca adjusted her coat, “What’s the opposite of that?”

The three of them thought a moment.

“Sour-yell,” Keeley came up with.

“Yeah,” Rebecca nodded, keeping her eyes on the match, “I did that.”

Keeley, Higgins and Y/n looked to one another in confusion. Any dignity Rebecca possessed seemed to disappear in the face of Rupert Mannion. But now, it had possibly cost them Zava, and Y/n felt the opportunities slip through their fingers.

The game, however, ended better than Rebecca’s conversation. A 1-1 draw and Richmond left with a goal on the board. The team was proud, and in turn, Y/n felt an inkling of pride.

“Right, well,” Y/n sighed as their section began to empty, “Shall we?”

“Yes,” Rebecca replied speedily, gathering her items, “I don’t think I can handle another run-in.”

The foursome picked up and left, heading back into the stadium.

“No one else was around for your…” Y/n fished for some better term for Rebecca’s blow up, “Sour-yell, right?”

“Thankfully, no. But I still think we need to get straight back to the office,” Rebecca answered as they climbed the steps, “It’s not safe here.”

As they made their way out, an above head TV screen spoke unavoidably loud.

“Please welcome the newest member of Chelsea Football Club,” one of the team’s staff said from the press room, “Zava.”

Keeley, Y/n, Rebecca and Higgins froze under the picture, unable to look away as Zava picked up the contract and paused before signing.

“I have changed my mind,” he told the room full of journalists, “Zava will not play for Chelsea.”

“Oh,” Rebecca sighed, “I’m sorry, I can’t watch this.”

As she left, Keeley followed with Higgins and Y/n bringing up the rear.

“Zava will play for Richmond.”

At hearing the name of their club, the group hastened back around the hall corner, mouths agape. As the press room filled with question after question that Zava would leave unanswered, Keeley hugged Rebecca and squealed. Y/n found herself laughing, pressing a hand to her chest in shock.

“So he responds well to yelling,” Y/n exclaimed.

“You did it,” Keeley grinned as she squeezed her friend, “You did it!”

Rebecca looked proud of herself, and rightfully so. This was a win for her, for the brand, for the whole of AFC Richmond. The season had just taken a massive turn in, potentially, the best direction.

“Okay, definitely back to the office,” Keeley made a plan, “We’ve got to put out a statement.”

“Right,” Rebecca smiled, victoriously leading her team out of the stadium.

—————————

After writing up an official announcement with Keeley, Y/n headed out for the night. She made it down the staircase just as the last of the Greyhounds were leaving the locker room, dressed for a night out.

“Ah, Y/n,” Sam called, giving a little wave.

“Hey,” Y/n greeted, “Congratulations on that goal today,” she looked to Dani with an awkward smile, “And…you too, I think?”

Dani laughed, “It was magnificent.”

“That it was,” Y/n chuckled.

“Listen,” Sam interjected, “The team is going out for a celebratory drink. Can we convince you to come and join us?”

Y/n shut her mouth and wracked her brain for replies that wouldn’t make her sound like an asshole. She liked the players, from the few interactions she’d had with them, but going out to a club with them was definitely not in her job description.

“That’s really sweet,” she smiled, “But I actually have plans.”

“Ah,” Sam nodded, painting his face with mock defeat, “Perhaps next time? When we win?”

“Maybe,” Y/n smiled, realizing she’d have to come up with another lie when the time came, “But you guys have a great time.”

“Oh, it is already a great time,” Dani replied as he began to make his way down the hall, pumping his fists in the air, “We got Zava!”

Sam and Y/n shared a laugh before bidding each other goodnight. Y/n waited a few minutes in the hall until the last sports car had left the lot before exiting herself.

Once back in the safety of her apartment, she changed into pajamas and flipped on the television. Keeping the volume low, she pulled out her cell from her purse and dialed a familiar number.

“Hey,” her sister’s voice came through after two rings.

“Hi,” Y/n sang as she moved around her kitchen.

“How’s the great football executive?” Caylee asked.

Y/n scanned the contents of her freezer, settling on a frozen lasagna. “Definitely not my title. And definitely not one I want.”

“What? Who wouldn’t want to be in charge of a team who score goals with their face?”

Y/n got a laugh out of the memory, “You watched the game?”

“Of course I did,” Caylee replied, an smile evident in her voice, “Still don’t fully get it, but I watched it.”

Watching as her dinner spun in the microwave, Y/n smiled. Thousands of miles between them and it felt like her little sister was just in the next room.

“Well, ‘one’ would not want to be in charge of a team that scores with their face, or allows a tabloid writer to tail them all season,” Y/n listed off the incidents of the week, opening the microwave before it could beep, “Or gets photographed coming out of a bloody sewer.”

“Ah,” Caylee understood immediately, “Still got that ten foot pole?”

Y/n could finally sigh in exhaustion without worrying anyone would catch her. “Cayl, if you spent two seconds here, you’d understand why.”

“No,” Caylee calmly said, her voice jumping an octave, “That’s never been my thing. It’s always been yours.”

Setting her dinner down on her kitchen table, Y/n took a seat. “It’s not that it’s a bad place, it’s a good gig. The people are just…a lot.”

Caylee hummed, decoding what her sister meant. It came off condescending.

“What’s that?” Y/n asked, semi-annoyed.

“Nothing,” Caylee replied.

“It’s something.”

“Nope,” Caylee popped her lips, “Just wondering if you ever get lonely up there in your cold corporate castle.”

The thing about talking to people who knew you…was that they knew you. Caylee was the only person that could see through Y/n’s barriers and knew exactly what prompted their creation. She was the one person Y/n couldn’t hide from.

“How could I ever be lonely when I’ve got you?” Y/n finally answered, reaching for the tv remote.

Caylee snorted, “Alright, c’mon, fill me in. I wanna hear everything.”

Y/n channel surfed until she hit Sky Sports, where the highlights of the match were being played. The main attraction, of course, was Dani’s goal.

“I don’t even know where to start…” she smiled, watching the replay and settling in for the night.

—————

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

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #jamie tartt x reader #heartfirst

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iamnotoriginalphil · 27 days

Note

First of all your writing is amazing!!! Second of all hope you are having a good year so far! I was thinking for a request maybe reader x Rebecca Welton based on the line If lies keep falling from your lips then I’m out the door” where it’s the episode Keeley confronts her about the picture. Rebecca and reader ended up starting dating after the night in Liverpool, ends up finding out about Rebecca’s whole plan for the club and confronts her too where Rebecca tries to defend herself but reader isn’t having none of it wants to know why she was doing this, if what they have going on is just part of her plan to get back at Rupert since reader used to work under Rupert and he tried to make advances on her in the passed. With a Happy ending

Sweet Little Lies (Rebecca Welton x f!Reader)

Words: 2k

Warnings: swearing, lying, talking about Rupert

You’d known it was too good to be true. Of course it was. Why would a woman like Rebecca Welton ever be interested in someone like you? With her elegance and her poise, she was easily the most impressive woman you’d ever met, and without a doubt the most beautiful. You’d always thought so.

You were standing outside her office door, pacing backwards and forwards, trying to build up the courage to go inside. You hadn’t expected Higgins to break down after finding a stress rash creeping down his arm and you certainly hadn’t expected him to spill the beans about Rebecca’s plans. Admittedly, he’d thought you already knew, that you were in on your girlfriend’s plan, and felt worse upon realising you weren’t. But that still left you deciding how to bring it up with her.

You froze as the door was pulled open from the other side. Rebecca took a half step out before freezing when her eyes landed on you. You felt your eyes widening, the issue coming to a head before you felt ready.

“What are you-?” she began to ask before stopping herself.

“We need to talk,” you said.

“Uh oh,” she said, a brittle smile appearing on her face, “are you about to break up with me?”

You took a step towards her, finding her hand with yours. You stepped around her, ignoring the way just the touch of her palm against yours made you feel more grounded. And also made the butterflies in your stomach turn into a tornado.

You guided her back into her own office, closing the door to keep from being interrupted. Worry was etching itself on Rebecca’s face, eyes flicking over your expression as if trying to figure out what you were going to say. You weren’t sure what your face was doing but you thought it must have been grim. She was slow to sit on her sofa, hesitant when you didn’t join her.

“What’s going on, love?” she asked.

Having her blue eyes staring up at you weren’t making it easier for you. The amount of worry, and the fear you could see hiding behind that worry made you want to reassure her. You hated being the cause of her distress but you had to talk to her. You had to get to the bottom of it all. Because if you didn’t, when she revealed that she’d never actually wanted you, it would crush you.

“I’ve been talking to Higgins,” you said, “or I guess it would be more accurate to say Higgins talked to me.”

“That’s never a good start to a conversation,” she said, with one of those uncomfortable laughs that let you know that she didn’t like where the conversation was going.

“He told me about your plan,” you said, “about destroying Richmond and taking everything Rupert loved. He thought I already knew since I’m, you know, in a relationship with you.”

“Oh,” was the only reply you got.

“You’ve been lying to me this entire time, Rebecca.”

It sounded harsh to your ears and from the way she almost reeled back as if slapped it was clear it sounded harsh to her as well. But it was the truth. You had to remind yourself of that or else you’d find yourself apologising and begging for her forgiveness. You were in the right. You knew you were.

“I didn’t lie to you.” Her voice was so small.

“You didn’t tell me the truth,” you countered.

Your hurt was turning into anger and you were scared about what was going to happen. If she kept denying it, or minimising it you weren’t sure what you were going to do. You needed to hear her say it, just once, so you could know. If she couldn’t admit it, then you weren’t sure you could trust her about anything else.

“I thought you would hate me if you knew,” she said, shoulders slumping.

“If you can’t be honest with me, that’s going to be worse. I don’t care about you trying to get back at Rupert for fucking you over. I care that the way you’re doing it is hurting other people,” you said.

“The team will be fine. No one will blame them,” she said.

“They’ll blame Ted and he doesn’t deserve it. You know he doesn’t. He’s a good person,” you said, “and I know you set up Keeley so don’t even pretend. Is everyone else just collateral damage? Is it worth all of our pain?”

“Everyone else will recover. They can come back from this. I just want to destroy the club,” she said.

“Then I can’t stay,” you said.

“What?”

Those large eyes looked at you, a sense of panic beginning to overtake her expression. The worry and the fear were gone, slipping away in the face of your statement. You waited, needing to hear her response before you could move on.

“What do you mean you can’t stay?” she asked.

“Well, if I’m all just part of this plan to get back at Rupert, and this entire relationship has been a lie, then I won’t be putting myself through dealing with the indignity of staying in this relationship,” you said, ignoring the way just the words coming from you made it feel as if you were cleaving your own heart in two.

“You weren’t… you were never… I didn’t plan for you,” she said, seemingly not able to come up with the right words. You weren’t sure there were right words to come back from this.

“Of course I was. You got what Rupert could never have. Surely that will make him sting just a bit,” you said with a shrug, trying to make it sound casual, like you didn’t care, like your heart wasn’t being torn to shreds.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, “darling, our relationship was never part of my plan. It was unexpected. Wonderful, the most wonderful thing to come out of all of this, but I couldn’t have planned for falling in love with you.”

You felt your breath leave you.

“Don’t you… how dare you try and sweep this all under the rug by saying you love me for the first time?”

All attempts at remaining calm were all out the window. There was no calm in the face of what she was doing to you.

“I’m not trying to sweep the things I’ve actually done under the rug, but you’re not one of those things. You were never meant to be part of this whole fucking mess. I don’t know why you even would be. It’s not like he was in love with you,” she said.

“No but he tried to get off with me,” burst from you. You’d never told her because you never thought it was relevant. Only now it really felt like it was, especially if she’d known all along.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” It was the first sense you got that she was getting angry.

“Back when he owned the club. He would hit on me all the time. He made it very clear he wanted a shag, and I made it very clear I didn’t want that but he kept trying to change my mind,” you said, “but you knew that because now I’ve shagged you when I wouldn’t shag him. Just another up yours to him.”

“Darling, I had no idea.” Anger was mingling with sadness, pity perhaps in the mix too. “I wish I’d known.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t,” you said, only your conviction felt shaky.

“You think I would sit idly by if he was harassing you?” she demanding, finally standing up, the anger getting to her. You’d always loved the way she towered over you, and even in her anger you weren’t worried it would be turned on you. You had that much faith in her, even if the rest of it had been rocked by the revelation.

“ I don’t…” You looked up into her thunderously angry face, “no, I don’t think you would.”

“Of course I bloody wouldn’t,” she said, but she seemed to calm at your words.

“So I really wasn’t part of your plan to back at Rupert?” you asked.

“No.” She brought both hands up to cup your cheeks in her warm palms, “you’ve been a wonderful surprise. The best thing to come out of this whole fucking mess.”

You looked up at her, feeling a flush of warmth for her. She hadn’t lied about your relationship. That had all been real.

“You have to tell Ted,” you said, “no more lies. If you keep lying to everyone then I can’t do this anymore.”

“I know. Of course. I was on my way to tell him when I found you,” she said.

“Good because I know you’re better than this. You’re better than your pain,” you said.

With both hands still on your cheeks, she tilted your face up towards her. She was slow as she approached, giving you plenty of time to move away but you didn’t. You couldn’t. She’d enchanted you, body and soul, and you were under her spell. The brush of lips was soft, still giving you enough time to pull away but you didn’t. If anything, you pressed closer, your arms curling around her body.

She was slow to draw back and when she did you whimpered. You never wanted to stop kissing her once you’d started. She was gentle as she pushed some hair behind your ear, blue eyes twinkling, lips curling up at the corner.

“You’re so lovely,” she whispered.

“Did you tell me you love me?” you asked, the thought finally penetrating through the fog of your heartbreak now it had stopped.

“I suppose I did.” Her smile faltered for a moment before stretching a little further.

“Did you mean it?”

She seemed to soften before you, a glow lighting her up from the inside out. You found yourself leaning closer, never able to fight against your impulse to fall into her. Her thumb brushed along your cheekbone.

“I did,” she said, voice soft, almost reverent in her confession.

“Say it again,” you requested.

“I love you,” she said, a little louder than before.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You gazed up at her, feeling the intensity of the moment. Your heart was pounding and your skin was buzzing and all you wanted to do was melt into her. The first time you’d seen her, walking through the halls on Rupert’s arm, you’d felt yourself fall for her. Every day since it had only grown stronger. You still reeled from from the fact that she seemed to want you too.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

Her face split open in pure sunlight. Her smile widened and the joy was practically rolling off her. She pulled you in, kissing you without restraint. You were grinning into the kiss, not even caring when your teeth clashed together. She was laughing into your mouth and you found yourself following suit, until your cheek was pressed to hers and you were revelling in the moment.

It was an unexpected end to your conversation.

“You should go speak to Ted,” you murmured once the laughter had died down and you didn’t feel as if your heart was going to run away from you.

“Can’t we just stay here for a moment longer?” she asked.

“It’s time, Rebecca,” you said, “you have to tell him.”

“What if he hates me?” she asked.

“It’s Ted. I’m not sure he knows how to hate anyone,” you replied.

She paused a moment before her shoulders slumped again.

“Fuck, you’re right. I know you’re right. The bastard will forgive me,” she said, sounding unhappy about it.

“And afterwards, we can go home and watch Wizard of Oz and eat garlic bread,” you said.

“God I love you,” she said, pulling you into another kiss.

“Go on. Stop trying to distract me,” you said, tapping her on the arse.

The smile she flashed you over her shoulder as she left her office had you needing to suppress your own smile. Yeah, you loved that woman.

#rebecca welton x reader #rebecca welton imagine #rebecca welton #requests #anon

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security-chief-odo · 6 months

Text

To Love and be Loved in Return

Roy Kent x Reader

Description: Both you and Roy Kent are in love, but of course neither of you knows your feelings are requited. Who will be the first to spill the beans?

Chapter 1 - World’s Greatest Boss

Word Count: 1k

• • •

You have been working as a coaching assistant for AFC Richmond for the past six months. Though your job technically speaking is to assist the entire coaching staff, in reality, you were hired to manage Roy Kent.

Though he is an excellent coach, he is god awful at things like maintaining a schedule, filing any paperwork in a reasonable time frame, and generally dealing with the public. This is where you come in and make his life (and Rebecca’s) easier.

Your life on the other hand has gotten much harder as a result of this job. You have had a school girl crush on Roy since he was still playing for Chelsea. A crush you had assumed was just superficial and would fade as you got to know him as a coworker and a friend. If only life was ever that easy.

If anything, your crush has just gotten stronger because not only is Roy insanely hot, but he is kind, smart, and surprisingly funny. Perhaps more importantly though, he is sitting in front of your desk, not noticing as you stare at him.

“What do I have to get done this weekend?”

“Well, it’ll be a busy one for you. You need to go pick up your suit from the tailor tomorrow for the gala next weekend.”

He groaned, “I still don’t see why I have to go to that stupid thing.”

“It is quite literally in your job description Roy.” He rolls his eyes at that but lets you continue. “You have a game Tuesday, press conference after that. Do you have your shoes for the gala?”

“I’m not getting new shoes for that shit, I have a pair that’ll do. Do you have my talking points prepped for the press conference?” You hand over a bullet pointed page. “And if we lose?”

“You won’t, but that’s on the printer.” You turn in your chair to grab it but he's up and behind your desk already, skimming over the page.

“What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn, probably”

He chuckled at that, “Yeah, probably. So I, uh, wanted to ask before, but are you going to the gala?”

“I’m office staff, I’m not sure I’m invited”

“Of course you’re fucking invited.”

“I’ll ask Rebecca about it.”

“No need, you can be my plus one.” You stop dead in your tracks at his words. Of course you want to go to the gala with Roy but there’s no way he means it like that and sitting by his side all night just might be the death of you.

“Oh um, I don’t know”

“Come on, y/n”

“I don’t have anything to wear. My wardrobe isn’t exactly fitting for a gala”

“Then I’ll buy you a dress.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’m sure you had some model you were going to bring anyways.”

“I’m not that guy anymore, y/n. And anyways, you deserve to go, you’re part of the team” Right, part of the team. He’s being a good boss. That’s all he was ever doing.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll give Keeley my credit card and have her pick you up Saturday”

Returning to your emails, you began typing as you continued the conversation. “Anyone ever told you that you’re kind of an amazing boss?”

Right, you only see him as your boss. Nothing more. Probably never will be anything more. He just needed to accept that.“I don’t know that that’s the word the boys would use.”

“Well, maybe you should try buying all of them fancy dresses?”

“You know, that just might do the trick,” a smile threatens to cross his face, “but I don't think they’d look nearly as good.”

“Careful sir, don’t let Isaac hear you say that one.”

That one actually got a laugh out of him. “You’re right. Then I might have to bring him as my date instead–” His eyes widen as soon as the word ‘date’ leaves his mouth and he stumbles out, “not that I’m asking you as my date. I’m not. I just–”

Despite the sinking feeling in your gut, you let him off the hook. “Of course not Roy. I didn’t assume you were.”

“Right. Well. I’ll just leave you to uh, you know, I’ve got a meeting.” He rushed out, nearly slamming your door behind him. As soon as he was out of earshot, he groaned “Fuck.” Roy should have known better than to say anything. You are sweet and beautiful and fucking brilliant and he might have just ruined everything.

You are sitting in your office, having completed Roy’s schedule, you move on to Beard and Nate. There’s no way those meetings will be nearly as painful as your last one. You never thought Roy would return your feelings, but you figured you would at least have to ask before he could reject you.

Roy and you are clearly avoiding each other all day Thursday. He takes his lunch in his car. You don’t even leave your office. You wait until the end of the day to go meet with the assistant coaches about their calendars, hoping that Roy may have left early.

You aren’t quite so lucky and bump into him as you enter the locker room. Of course this knocks your papers out of your hands. You squat down to pick them up.

“Fuck,” he growls, “sorry.”

“It’s ok. I wasn’t exactly looking where I was going either.”

He extends a hand to help you up. Your hand feels nice in his and you both are holding hands for a moment longer than necessary before pulling away.

With nothing left to say, you find yourself looking into his kind eyes before you are interrupted by Nate.

“Oh y/n, I was just about to come grab you for our meeting.”

“Right.” you turn to Roy, “See you tomorrow!”

He waves as he walks away, not for a second noticing where your eyes were as you watched him leave. You follow Nate back into the office for your meetings with the assistant coaches, your thoughts however stay on the head coach.

• • •

Click here for chapter 2!

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#reader insert #roy kent x reader #roy kent #Roy Kent/reader #idiots in love #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso #afc richmond #to love and be loved in return

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months

Text

Something There (Chapter 1)

Ahh I'm excited to start this story! I hope you enjoy!

8.0k words Roy Kent x Reader Warnings: Language, brief references to breasts, enemies-to-lovers totally not taken right out of Pride and Prejudice, mentions of alcohol, me not knowing a thing about the Women's Super League and not letting it ruin my fun, Roy not being super excited about women's sports (but it's only because he's grumpy), Reader has a nickname

Series Masterlist

“What the fuck is a whippet?”

Rebecca stared at Roy as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s a dog very similar to a greyhound, but smaller,” she explained simply. “And it’s the official mascot of W.F.C. Richmond.”

Roy, Beard, and Nate sat across from Rebecca, who was flanked by a very excited Keeley. Nate’s expression was wide-eyed and intrigued, while Beard looked pleased and almost proud as he listened to Rebecca’s news. Roy, on the other hand, sat there with his brow furrowed and arms crossed.

Not that the manager’s body and facial language deterred Rebecca; on the contrary, she was far too used to his sulky disposition. However, considering this was a project near and dear to both her and Keeley’s hearts, she had very little patience for his lack of enthusiasm today.

“Where’ll they be playing then?” Roy asked, doing his best to show the support that he knew Rebecca was craving from him. He respected her far too much- both as a boss and a, dare he say, friend- to let her think he didn’t care, not after she and Keeley had done a whole song and dance to present the news to the gaffers: a women’s team. A women’s team for Richmond.

Keeley and Rebecca exchanged looks. Keeley’s expression was one that involved raised eyebrows, as if to say You tell him. Rebecca’s, with her mouth in a straight line, communicated something more along the lines of Shit, do I really have to tell him?

With a deep breath, Rebecca turned back to Roy. “Here, of course,” she answered, her voice steady and nonchalant, seeming to presume her response was obvious to everyone in the room.

Roy furrowed his brow, the corners of his mouth dipping downwards. “But we play here,” he said dumbly. His mind raced. Holy shit, is Rebecca selling us? Is it because we didn’t come in fucking first last year? It was my first fucking season managing, no one could have expected-

“We’ll be sharing the facilities,” Rebecca answered, interrupting the thoughts racing through Roy’s head faster than he used to run on the pitch. Her voice reminded Roy of the voices of Phoebe’s teachers: patient, calm, explanatory. It made Roy feel small.

Coach Beard leaned forward. “I can help Higgins set up a schedule of who gets to use things at certain times, so we don’t have to worry about being on top of each other,” he offered helpfully. Roy knew his assistant coach was trying to distract Rebecca from Roy’s less-than-excited response to this news.

Nate quickly got on board. “Have you hired a manager then?” he asked with a smile.

Rebecca’s shoulders relaxed. At least two of the Richmond coaches were reacting the way she’d hoped. “I have. Another American, actually,” she chuckled, winking at Beard. “Feels like we need at least two of you running around Nelson Road.”

Roy decided to do his best to follow the other men’s examples. “What’s his name? Maybe Beard knows him,” he joked.

“You can read all about her here,” Keeley quipped, handing Roy a folder branded with that familiar red and blue rearranged around an outline of what Roy initially thought was a greyhound. Internally, he quickly corrected himself; it was a whippet. “This is a little report on W.F.C. Richmond just to give you boys some more info,” Keeley continued, passing identical folders to Nate and Beard. “A bit about the manager, her assistant coach, some of the players, things like that. Just so you all don’t look like proper fools in front of her when she pops in tomorrow. Reading it would be a grand idea.” Keeley gave Roy a scolding glare; they both knew that Roy was not one to read reports, even as manager, a fact that drove everyone insane.

With a huff, Roy nodded. “I’ll read it, I’ll read it.”

Everyone knew that was a fucking lie.

I looked around my new apartment- flat, Keeley Jones kept calling it in that accent I had to stop myself from grinning at- and smiled. It was definitely bigger than my old place, and I wouldn’t have to share it with any roommates. Sure, it was in a whole new country where I didn’t know anyone, but that was fine. This was fine.

Alright, so I’d sort of miss being on the same continent as my friends and family. But this was such an incredible opportunity that I simply couldn’t pass up. Rebecca Welton was wealthy, and the salary she’d offered me was more akin to what the coaches of men’s teams made back in the U.S., not what we made in the women’s league. The chance to build a program from the ground up was a thrilling challenge I was dying to sink my teeth into. England’s passionate soccer culture- football, I reminded myself- was something I’d found lacking back home, even amongst my own family and friends. And, more than anything else, I jumped at the opportunity to leave and not look back. I was ready for something new, and different, and far away from the places I’d called home for the past few years.

The vibration from my phone tore my attention away from the redecorating I’d spent the afternoon doing, enjoying my last day of normalcy. I grinned when I saw the name on my phone.

“Coach Lucas,” I greeted. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” the familiar voice on the other end answered. “You settled in alright?”

Lucas Austen was the one piece of home I’d brought with me. We’d been pals since my days playing college soccer, when he was our brilliant assistant coach. While he was the first to admit he wasn’t much of an athlete, the man was a great coach, who’d found himself promoted to head coach of our college team a few years ago and even had the men begging him to switch to their side but declined in favor of leading my alma mater to multiple national titles. When Rebecca Welton had asked me about potential coaching staff during one of our million Zoom sessions, Lucas was the first name out of my mouth. She didn’t hesitate to sign him after hearing my gushing reference. And, incredible friend that he was, he didn’t hesitate to say yes.

I could picture his smiling face as I plopped onto the couch. “All good. Yourself?”

“Peachy keen,” he assured me. “Want to do something tonight? Not too tired to go out?”

“Let’s see.” I leaned back and hugged the fluffy pillow I was positive Keeley Jones had selected herself. “Sit inside all night and fret over starting a new job in a new country or go out and actually enjoy that new country? Tough choice.”

His laugh eased some of the anxiety in my chest. “Pick you up at six.” He paused. “Six London time,” he added jokingly.

We hung up, and I gave a little stretch, thinking about how insane we were for doing this- something we’d heard a lot in the last few weeks. If nothing else, Lucas and I were going to have a grand old adventure.

Roy sighed and gripped his beer tighter. He’d really let Jamie talk him into going out with him. Even worse, he’d let Jamie talk him into going to a club. Roy hated clubs; but to be fair, Roy hated most things, including Jamie. But the young player had promised his coach they’d have a good time and, more importantly, that there would be alcohol, all paid for by Jamie.

And sometimes, free alcohol was all Roy needed to hear.

So, there he was, leaning against the bar, pretending it was because he looked cool and intimidating and not because his fucking knee was bothering him. Again. He wondered how much longer he’d have to stand here before he could leave without Jamie turning into a whining twat.

“Excuse me.” A woman squeezed by Roy and gave a little wave to get the bartender’s attention. She let out a frustrated little huff when she was ignored. “Dammit.”

Annoyed at how close she was to him, Roy cocked his head. “Oi!” The bartender quickly turned in their direction. “She’d like some fucking service!”

In a flash, the bartender was getting the woman’s order and set to work making it. While she waited, she glanced up at Roy.

“Thanks for that,” she called over the music. “I’ll have to learn how to use my voice like that. Might come in handy at work.” There was a joking lilt to her voice.

If Roy had been paying attention, he would have been caught off guard by her distinct way of speaking, and if he’d been in a good mood he’d have even asked where she was from. Instead, he gave a little grunt and a nod, turning his gaze back to the dance floor, where Jamie had disappeared with some gorgeous girl.

Drink now in hand, the woman nodded to Roy. “Thanks again.”

Roy ignored her as she walked away. He glanced at his watch. 9:30. About his bedtime, and Jamie’s too if the prick knew what was good for him. He was in training, after all.

As if he knew his coach was looking for him, Jamie appeared, adjusting the stupid pink headband he’d worn because it matched his fucking shoelaces.

“Oi, don’t you think the bar can hold itself up, Coach?” Jamie asked good-naturedly, nudging Roy. Roy only grunted in response, so Jamie continued. “Get yourself out there. Dance. Live a little.”

Stuffing his free hand into his pocket, Roy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, me, dancing. Sounds fucking right,” he huffed. “Just let me sit here and drink my beer, yeah?” He spotted Jamie’s dance partner, who was clearly waiting for the young footballer to return to her. “Go on, poor girl’s waiting.”

A smile crossed Jamie’s face. “Cute, eh?” He nudged Roy again. “Go on, let’s find you someone. What about that girl I saw you talking to right now? She was fit. Ask her to dance.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “No fucking thank you. I don’t need some young thing in a tight outfit trying to grind on me just so she can go tell her friends that she danced with Roy fucking-”

“Who said I wanted to dance with you?”

Unnoticed by Roy, the woman had returned to the bar, her face and voice both sour now.

Jamie put on his best smile, clearly trying to diffuse the thick awkwardness that even he could feel. “Hi there!”

The woman paused, quirking an eyebrow at Jamie. “Hey yourself.” Her eyes flickered to Roy for a moment before returning to Jamie. “Your buddy always this friendly?”

Jamie nodded towards Roy. “He’s just awkward around pretty women,” he tried. “He really does want to dance with you.”

“No, I fucking don’t,” Roy blurted out before thinking, thankful, for once, for the stupidly dark lighting in this club for hiding his slight blush.

The woman’s eyes lingered on Roy’s face for a moment, something turning behind her eyes, before wheeling back to Jamie. “As charming as your friend is, I’ve got someone waiting for me. Maybe teach him some manners, hmm?”

In the back of his head, Roy noted that she was pretty. Really fucking pretty. Her eyes sparkled with a teasing gleam, even with her annoyed tone, and her red lips formed a perfect smirk that a younger Roy would have tried to kiss after buying her a drink.

But he was too embarrassed and annoyed to think about that right now.

Roy sighed, damning himself for how fucking rude he could be sometimes. “Listen, I just don’t want to fucking dance-”

She shook her head and waved him off. “Hey, it’s not like I was dying to dance with someone trying to dress like Johnny Cash,” she quipped, gesturing towards Roy’s totally black ensemble. “I was just grabbing some water. Not every girl walking around a club is dying for some guy to hit on her.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Even if he’s-” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “Never mind.” She nodded to Jamie. “Have a good night.” She glanced back at Roy. With a small hum of amusement, she grabbed a water bottle off the bar and was off.

Roy watched as she approached a guy, probably about his own age, and whispered something in his ear as she handed him the water bottle. The guy, his eyes widening for the briefest moment, looked over at Roy and Jamie, then back to the woman. They both broke into fits of laughter as they went off, probably to find somewhere far away from Roy and Jamie. Mostly Roy.

Jamie clapped his hand on Roy’s shoulder. “Looks like she’s got a fella. Tough break, Coach,” he said with a sympathetic click of his tongue.

Roy glared at Jamie. “Fucking asshole,” he mumbled, taking a swig of his beer.

“Alright, here we go, it’s just the most important day of your life so far,” I murmured to myself as I stared at my reflection.

Lucas and I were due at Nelson Road, our new home, within the hour. We’d finally meet Rebecca Welton face-to-face after hours of Zoom meetings, get a tour of the ‘Dog Track’, see our new offices that we’d be sharing with the men’s side, and get to meet the men’s team, the Greyhounds.

Considering that this was the first impression I’d make on everyone, I opted to dress up a bit. Some nice black slacks, a dark blouse my mom had bought for me as her own misguided way to wish me luck before playoffs one year, and a pair of heels. As I put on some bright red lipstick and pondered whether I looked badass or clownish, I heard a knock at my door.

Lucas raised an eyebrow at me as soon as I opened the door. “Shit. I should’ve known you’d be dressing up.” He wore a pair of Dickies and a button-down shirt; not sloppy, but definitely a step down from my style choice.

“You’re fine,” I assured him with a huff. “I’m probably overdressed if we’re being honest.” I took off the blazer I’d been debating all morning. “There, a little more casual?”

He shrugged, an amused grin on his face. “I mean, you look great. You’re the head coach, not me, you should look professional on our first day. They’ll all see you in sweatshirts and shorts soon enough.” He gave a small nod. “Nice color by the way.”

My hand flew to my mouth. “It’s not too much?”

“Nah, it’s just enough.” He gave a little nod towards the door. “Shall we?”

Not wanting to deal with walking directions on our first day, we opted to take a car to Nelson Road. The ride was much quicker than I expected, and I felt my stomach knot up as I grabbed my messenger bag while Lucas paid the driver.

I’d seen photos of the stadium, having made countless Google searches as the big move got closer. But now, being there in person, everything suddenly felt so real. This was it; my new home, where I’d get to help make history- hopefully a history we’d all be proud of.

A man in glasses waved to us from the entrance as soon as our car took off. “Good morning!” he called excitedly.

The moment I realized who it was, I couldn’t help but smile. “Leslie Higgins,” I laughed. As we approached, I resisted the urge to hug him. We’d seen Higgins in almost as many meetings as Rebecca Welton, and I loved him. He was kind, silly, and went above and beyond to make sure Lucas and I would be comfortable during the transition we were about to face. I knew already that he’d provide a father’s touch as we settled in.

Lucas high-fived Higgins as we approached. “Leslie, what’s shaking?”

Higgins chuckled as he shook my hand. “We are so excited that you’re here,” he gushed. “Honestly, we’ve been twittering like little birdies all morning. Tweet, tweet!” He nodded towards the entrance. “Let’s head on up to Rebecca’s office first, hmm? She’s so thrilled to finally meet you.”

We made our way inside, with Higgins cheerfully asking us about our flight, our new living arrangements, how we were adjusting to the time change so far. It felt like chatting with an old friend, and I was so engaged that I barely even noticed we’d arrived at Rebecca’s office. The door was wide open, so Higgins gestured for us to go on in.

Dear Lord, she’s freaking tall,I thought to myself as I finally stood in Rebecca Welton’s presence. She was exactly who I’d met on all those Zoom calls: gorgeous, poised, dignified, confident, and, more than anything, warm. Before I could extend my hand to her, she’d already wrapped me in a hug.

“Welcome to Richmond!” she gushed before letting go. She cleared her throat and straightened her skirt, furrowing her brow. “That wasn’t weird, was it?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Just a smidge. But it already feels like we’ve known each other forever, so it’s fine.”

It was true. We’d spent so many hours talking on video calls, and on the phone, and even more emailing and eventually texting back and forth, plus I’d done some light online stalking, so that Rebecca felt like a dear friend at this point. Each time we spoke, I felt more and more excited to come to work for her and help her build something special.

“My turn!”

I was smothered by a blonde vision in pink and squeezed like a teddy bear. “Hi, Keeley,” I sputtered out, returning her embrace.

Keeley Jones had been the first person I’d spoken to about any of this. She’d called me, seemingly out of the blue, and gotten straight to the chase, telling me all about how impressed Richmond was with my career as both player and coach and oh would I be interested in leaving the United States, moving to England, and helping build their brand-new women’s team? Her bubbly charisma and enthusiasm had stopped me from laughing into the phone and hanging up, chalking it up to some joke. Instead, I let her reel me in until I was walking into work and handing in my resignation, saying tearful farewells to the incredible athletes I had come to love like sisters, those goodbyes even harder than the ones I said to my family and friends. But the tiny blonde with the fast way of talking had charmed and emboldened me to do this terrifying, thrilling thing.

Lucas quickly shook hands with the two women, escaping the displays of affection that they’d shown me. I glanced at the chairs behind the women, assuming we’d sit and chat for a bit before anything else.

But Rebecca had other ideas.

“Does anyone need a water before heading downstairs?” she offered, gesturing towards her fully stocked bar. “Or tea? I know it’s not your country’s favorite, but…” She trailed off, waiting for an answer.

“I’ll take water,” Lucas said, filling the silence.

“Uh, I’m good,” I murmured, shaking my head. The only thing I could focus on was getting started.

Rebecca quickly handed Lucas a bottle of water and gestured to the door. “This way.”

She led us out of her office and downstairs, excitedly chattering about the men’s team, about the amazing coach who helped build the club into what it had become (a fellow American, she was excited to tell us), how much she adored the current coaching staff, and how she knew they’d be very helpful to Lucas and myself.

“Now, I know it’ll be a bit of a squeeze, having two clubs in the same facilities,” she went on as our little group continued its stroll. “But I know we’ll all just do our best, hmm?”

Lucas spoke up, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Oh yeah. If it’s anything us Americans are known for, it’s sharing and selflessness.”

Everyone gave a light chuckle as we entered the locker room.

Two men stood in the middle of the room, decked out in A.F.C. Richmond gear. Rebecca quickly introduced Lucas and I to them.

“And this is Coach Beard,” she said, pointing to the one wearing a baseball cap. “And Coach Nate Shelley,” she continued, gesturing to the other man. “Coach Beard is from America as well,” she added with a tiny smile.

It took a moment for everyone to shake hands and offer awkward hellos and nice to meet yous.

Rebecca looked around, frowning. “Where’s-”

“Fuck, fuck, sorry, I was-”

A bearded man in dark clothing jogged in, looking absolutely ragged. His gaze darted around the room at everyone as we all stared back. When his eyes landed on me, they widened.

“Oh fuck.”

It was her. It was fucking her.

Roy felt like crawling into a hole and dying. He felt like turning around and running out of the room and not stopping until he reached Scotland, or he collapsed, whichever happened first. He felt like his knees were about to give out, and not because he’d just sprinted through the building, which he knew was a stupid idea. More than anything, he felt like a fucking idiot.

Standing in front of him with one eyebrow arched in amusement was the girl he’d talked to at the club. The one he’d been admittedly rude to. She looked so put together in her outfit and heels and red lipstick, while Roy was in his Richmond shirt and slightly sweating from dashing in from the pitch after he’d finally seen Keeley’s text to come to the changing room. He felt like an even bigger arse than he did the night before.

Rebecca cleared her throat, cool look on her face. “And this is our manager for the men’s side, Roy Kent.” She gestured to the woman and man- who Roy now recognized as the one she’d been giggling with at the club- and told Roy their names.

The woman stepped forward with a small smirk on her lips. “Roy Kent. Nice to officially meet you.” She extended her hand towards him.

Furrowing his brow, Roy reached out and shook her hand. “Right. So, you’re the-”

“First-ever manager of W.F.C. Richmond, yes,” she finished for him. She gave his hand a small squeeze before letting go. “I’m glad to report that I survived the pain of being rejected,” she half-whispered.

Rebecca’s eyes darted between the two as the man- Lucas, apparently- held back laughter. “I’m sorry, have you two already met?” Confusion filled Rebecca’s question.

“Hmm?” The new coach turned to Rebecca. “Kind of. We bumped into each other last night while out on the town. I received a very warm welcome.” She raised a mocking eyebrow at Roy before looking back at Rebecca, all friendly smiles. “Should we continue?”

The group- Rebecca, Higgins, Keeley, and the Americans- exited the changing rooms through the offices, with Rebecca explaining how they’d be sharing: the Greyhounds in the larger office, the Whippets in the smaller one, since there were only the two of them. As their voices faded and left the offices, Beard gazed at Roy’s pale face carefully.

“Alright there, Coach?”

Roy grunted. “Was a bit of an ass when we bumped into each other at a club last night,” he admitted. “Didn’t fucking know it was her.”

Beard’s brows furrowed. “So, you didn’t read Keeley’s report.” Not a question; a statement. He gestured for Roy to follow him into their office, now holding three desks, and handed him the W.F.C. Richmond folder Keeley had given them, Nate trailing in after them.

Roy flipped through a couple of pages before finding the manager profile Keeley had probably worked hard on writing. Sure enough, there she was: the woman from the club smiling up at him, her name in big letters at the top of the page. The profile contained information on her college career, her time as a professional player, her success as a manager in the American women’s league, even her Olympic and World Cup appearances. Definitely not just some “young thing” trying to get five minutes of fame by flirting with him. Roy felt like a right prick skimming her remarkable career.

“She’s really impressive,” Nate chirped, as if it needed to be said. “We could probably learn a lot from her, hmm?”

Tossing the folder back on Beard’s desk, Roy gave another grunt, refusing to admit his embarrassment. “We’re fine,” he responded in a short tone. “Let’s get back out there, alright? I left Isaac and Jamie in charge, so they’re probably having a fucking break-dancing contest at this point.”

Lucas and I sat at my dining room table eating the dinner he’d brought over. It had been a busy day; touring Nelson Road, meeting the staff, making sure contracts were signed and players were ready to start training at the end of the week. The next day, we’d be going in for a press conference to introduce ourselves to the public. To prepare, I was drinking the largest glass of wine I could pour.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” Lucas raised his eyebrows at me.

I put down my glass. “Talk about what?”

Lucas rested his face on his hands, gazing at me like a gossiping teenager. “Roy Kent.”

“What about Roy Kent?” I took another gulp of wine. “It’s not like we’re going to be coaching together. Does it really matter if I like him?”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” Lucas hummed, earning a glare from me. “Hey, I’d be pissed too if he was rude to me.” He took a bite. “Can’t believe he didn’t know who you were.”

I shrugged and went back to my food. “Clearly the man didn’t read his report. I mean, he had to get one about us, right? We got one about them.”

I’d spent about half my flight to England reading and rereading the packet Keeley had sent us about A.F.C. Richmond. It was great: a short history of the team, a bit about each member of the coaching staff, brief player profiles. A perfect way to get to know our new neighbors before moving into Nelson Road. Not that I hadn’t done a little research on my own as soon as Rebecca sent me an official offer to lead the Whippets; indeed, I’d done a particularly deep dive into Roy Kent’s Wikipedia page and watched more than a few clips of him on YouTube, fascinated by his career and transition into coaching. Heck, I’d even pondered if maybe we could become friends eventually.

But he’d put a nail in that coffin at the club.

Whatever. Like it even mattered, I told myself. All I had to do was exist in the same space as the man, no more, no less. And I could handle that.

Right?

I’d get to find out the next morning. Again dressed professionally and deciding to continue rocking that red lipstick, I carried a small box of things into Nelson Road. Since the press conference wasn’t until late in the morning, I had decided that I could take advantage of what would probably be my last bit of free time to set up some things in my office, while my assistant coach opted to relax and take his time getting ready.

As I entered the locker room, several players were already in there, in various states of undress. All of them nodded or waved in friendly greetings, having been introduced to Lucas and me yesterday. They had been extraordinarily enthusiastic, especially considering they now had to share their stadium. I waved back, noting the big smile on one Jamie Tartt’s face- the one who’d been with Roy Kent at the club, the dreamy star player I’d read all about. I grinned at the men, relieved that at least they were friendly.

On the other hand, when I entered the coaches’ office, all talking ceased immediately.

From his seat, with his feet atop his desk, Roy Kent glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, his mouth in a perfectly straight line beneath his beard. He’d been saying something to the other two but had halted as soon as I entered. I raised my eyebrow at him in response, feeling like those muscles in my face would be getting a good workout in the coming weeks.

“Morning,” I hummed, mostly to Beard and Nate. Nate waved cheerfully while Beard gave a friendly salute. Only Roy continued to ignore me.

Before I could step through into my new office, Nate’s voice called out, “Got your press conference today, right?”

I turned over my shoulder and looked at him, a little surprised by his friendly tone and the genuine interest on his face. “Yeah, not til later this morning though. Figured I’d set up some things in the office, make myself at home.”

Beard leaned back in his seat. “If you need help with anything, just ask. We’ll be in the weight room this morning.”

“Thanks,” I said with a nod. Okay, so not all the Greyhound coaches sucked. That was good to know.

I strolled into my new office, wrinkling my nose when I realized my desk had a direct view of Roy Kent’s desk, where he continued to avoid looking at me. Ignoring my observation, I set down my box and started pulling things out, arranging them the way I’d had them in my old office: soccer ball-shaped pencil holder a friend had bought me back in high school, framed photo of my family, my first ever AYSO trophy.

My heart skipped a beat when I pulled out a frame. It held my prized possession: the Sports Illustrated cover featuring Brandi Chastain, on her knees, black sports bra exposed, celebrating her penalty kick that won the 1999 World Cup, signed by the woman herself. It had hung in my bedroom, my college dorm, and eventually my office. It had served for many years as motivation, as something I aspired to. Now, it was my daily reminder of why I loved coaching- to help others achieve their big dreams.

I looked back in the box. Crap. I’d tossed in a couple nails but had forgotten to grab a hammer.

“Hey, Coach Beard?” Clutching the framed magazine, I poked my head into the Greyhounds’ office. The only one in there was Roy, who was thumbing through a notebook and mumbling to himself.

His eyes flickered up at me. He gave a small grunt of acknowledgement and went back to his notebook.

I sighed, not surprised by his lackluster greeting. “Do you guys have a hammer? I’m trying to put something up.”

Still not even glancing at me, Roy walked around to one of the other desks, yanking open a drawer, and pulling out a hammer, slamming it on top of the desk. “There,” he muttered.

“Thanks.” I stepped over and grabbed the hammer. Deciding to play his game of not looking at each other, I let my eyes flitter over to the wall behind his desk. I choked a little trying to hide my laughter. “What the fuck is that?”

Roy’s eyes followed mine to the… anatomical drawing behind his desk, a black strip of tape over it. “My niece drew it,” he answered matter-of-factly. “She’s eight.”

My eyebrows flew up. “Your eight-year-old niece drew the best tits I’ve ever seen in my life?”

A snort flew out of Roy’s nose, the friendliest noise I’d heard from him. “And just how many tits have you seen?”

Unable to help myself, I smirked. “I was a professional soccer player,” I reminded him. “I’ve been in plenty of locker rooms with other women.”

“Is that why you’re hanging that thing in your office?” He gestured to the magazine in my hands.

I raised an eyebrow at him and scoffed. “That’s Brandi Chastain,” I answered plainly. “She’s an Olympic gold medalist.”

“Right.” His steely gaze finally met mine, sending a jolt to my system that I did my best to ignore. “American, I assume?”

“Obviously,” I answered, feeling that defensiveness I had as a kid, arguing against the boys on the playground about whether I could play sports with them at recess. “Only the best women’s soccer team in the world.”

He snorted again. “Can’t be that great if you can’t call it the right fucking name.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, unsure if my tone was friendly or defensive. “Oh, I’m sorry, where’s your Olympic gold medal? Because mine’s in my living room, but I could bring it in if you’d ever like to see one in person.”

Something in his face changed, effectively ending the almost-nice interaction we were having. “Leave the hammer when you’re done,” he mumbled, turning and trudging out of the room, not looking me in the eye.

“Alrighty then,” I mumbled to myself, twirling the hammer in my hand. With a shrug, I turned back to my office, wondering if Roy Kent was capable of having a civil conversation.

Roy lumbered into the weight room, where Beard and Nate were supervising various workouts. His body felt heavy, and his chest felt tight. The Dog Track suddenly felt too crowded, too filled with her and her ego. That was it: her cockiness. Roy found it off-putting. That’s what had him feeling so twisted. The feeling in his stomach had absolutely nothing to do with that red lipstick she wore or the fact that she smelled far better than any other coach he’d ever met. Like fucking vanilla.

Both coaches nodded to Roy as he approached.

He grunted in place of a greeting. “Sorry, someone needed a fucking hammer. And then couldn’t shut up about her fucking Olympic gold medal.” Roy ignored the fact that, if he had one, he’d never stop talking about it. Hell, he still managed to bring up his time playing for England in casual conversation whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Beard continued to observe the workouts, only half interested in Roy’s complaining. “What’d she need a hammer for?”

“To put up some poster or some shit.” He folded his arms, scowling. “Didn’t know we were allowed to nail things into the fucking walls. Thought we were supposed to use that putty shit. Not leave holes in the walls.”

Now he had Beard’s attention. “Roy, you’ve punched holes into the walls.” To punctuate his point, Beard nodded towards the patch of recently fixed wall that still needed to be painted over.

Trying to keep things light, Nate piped up. “What was the poster?”

Fucking really? “Dunno,” Roy grumbled. “Some lady footballer.”

Beard raised an eyebrow. “Mia Hamm? Megan Rapinoe?”

“Fuck if I know,” Roy muttered, secretly racking his brain for the name she’d mentioned. “Didn’t really care enough to fucking listen.”

Pulling his cap over his eyes, despite being inside, Beard let out a little hum. “I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Oi! Turn up the volume, bruv!” Isaac called from his treadmill. “Wanna hear this.”

The guys paused their workouts to turn their gazes to the television, where the W.F.C. Richmond press conference played on the screen.

Roy narrowed his eyes as he observed the way she was dressed, in her blazer and red lipstick. She looked professional. More professional than he ever looked at press conferences. He found himself wondering if that’s how she dressed for matches, and whether that meant he should dress better on the pitch too. And fuck, she looked confident in front of all those cameras. He had yet to figure out how to look that comfortable.

A reporter’s voice filled the room. “You just made a big move, leaving the NWSL to come start a brand-new team. Why’d you do it?”

She looked thoughtful. Almost pretty with the way her eyes lit up before she spoke. “Well, let’s be really honest. The United States has the greatest women’s soccer team in the world-” The reporters hollered playfully at her. “Hey, sorry, it’s true!” She chuckled. “So, we’ve got the best team in the world, World Cup and Olympic champions how many times over, incredible athletes. But no one cares. Over here, though, soccer is a freaking religion. It’s everything. I’m excited to be in a place where people love the sport as much as the players on the field do. Who love it as much as I do.”

There was a murmuring of approval among the guys in the weight room.

Except for one person. Roy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Fucking soccer,” he muttered. “It’s football, fucking Yank.” He glanced at Beard, who shot him pointed look, reminding Roy of his own nationality. “Sorry,” he mumbled, properly shamed.

“What do you think you’ll bring to the new club? Why are you worth importing from the States?”

Roy snorted. Great, an opportunity for her to brag about herself.

Sure enough, a cocky expression crossed her face. “Is it cheeky or just plain arrogant if I say my gold medal and World Cup title?” There was good-natured tittering both from the journalists on television and among the Richmond players in the weight room. “No, actually I think in this case my coaching record really speaks for itself more than my time playing. I’ve been fortunate to lead my team back home to some great successes, and I’m looking forward to doing the same with Richmond.” She looked reflective for a moment. “And I’m young. I started as one of the youngest coaches in the U.S., in both men and women’s soccer. So, I can only keep growing as a coach. I’m only going to get better, get smarter. And this guy here?” She gestured to Lucas, who sat beside her, pride shining in his eyes as he watched her. “Incredible coach. Coach Lucas Austen has been the best kept secret in college soccer for years. I’ve played for this man myself, so I speak from experience when I say he’ll bring out the best in each and every player, as well as everyone lucky enough to watch his magic, most especially myself.”

Nate gave out a low whistle. “She’s fabulous to listen to. So at ease.”

Not willing to acknowledge Nate’s praise, Roy turned to Beard. “Are she and he… are they…?” He nodded towards the television, where the two Americans exchanged smiles as Lucas now sang the young manager’s praises, telling some charming story from his time coaching her.

Beard scoffed. “I doubt it, she’s not exactly his type.”

It took Roy a moment. “Oh. And is he… her type?” Roy couldn’t figure out why he was asking. He didn’t really care. Right?

“She’s dated men, if that’s what you’re asking,” Beard said, looking at Roy with skepticism. “There are straight and bisexual women in sports, you know.”

“I know.” Roy hated the way Beard was looking at him.

But apparently, Beard wasn’t done educating Roy. “And men and women can be just friends. Look at Ted and Rebecca. You and Keeley. Leo and Kate.”

“Leonardo DiCaprio is absolutely in love with Kate Winslet,” Colin shouted across the room, where he was leaning against a wall with Sam, eyes still glued to the television.

Roy scowled. “Back to your fucking workouts before I have Will shove all your boots up your arses!”

Poor Will, who happened to be strolling by the open door on his way to the boot room, picked up his pace, unsure if he preferred doing as Roy demanded or telling the manager “No”. Both sounded horrifying.

With the workouts resumed, Roy turned back to the screen, scowl deepening when his eyes lingered a moment too long on her smiling red lips.

“Are you bringing that nickname of yours over to this side of the pond?”

Her smile widened. “Only to make your jobs easier. ‘Coach Bucky gets lucky’ is a great headline.” She winked, a sight that caused Roy’s breath to stop for a moment. “Although I’d hate to think what else you all could find to rhyme with Buck.”

“What kind of fucking nickname is that?” Roy mumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowed.

As if reading Roy Kent’s mind, a reporter called out, “Where’d the name come from anyway?”

Wistfulness crossed her face as she paused for a moment. “My grandfather,” she answered quietly. She spoke slowly, hesitating for the first time. “When I started playing, he kept calling me ‘Plucky Bucky’, because of my positive attitude. Said he liked the way I never gave up when things got hard.” She let out a soft breath. “Silly. But my teammates and coaches picked up on it so….” She shrugged. “Coach Buck remains. It’s a nice reminder of the man who made me fall in love with the sport.”

Something tugged in Roy’s stomach at the word “grandfather”. Maybe it wasn’t such a stupid nickname after all.

“I think we’ve got time for one more question.” Keeley’s bright voice brought Roy’s attention back to the television.

A reporter piped up. “What’s your goal this year? Brand new team, are you just looking to get comfortable, get your bearings?”

The manager grinned, that cocky look in her eye again. “We’re not here for comfortable. We’re here for greatness.” She cleared her throat, smirking at Lucas before facing the cameras again. “We’re looking to be the first Richmond team to win the whole damn thing.”

Keeley, Lucas, and I exchanged high-fives as we walked out of the press room. Doing press conferences wasn’t unusual to me at all, but doing one in a new country was a bit overwhelming. But Keeley had prepared me well, and the journalists weren’t as intimidating as I’d expected. Of course, we’d see how they were once the season was underway and the Whippets were actually playing.

“You were great, babes!” Keeley assured me as we made our way to the coaching offices. “Seriously, if you do that in every press conference, you’ll make my job so easy.” She attempted an American accent as she continued, “We’re not here for comfortable, we’re here for greatness.” She shook her head. “Perfect soundbite!”

Lucas nodded. “Especially that part about being the first Richmond team to win the whole thing? Excellent. Not sure if the guys’ll like it, but I loved it.”

I cleared my throat as we passed the weight room. “We’ll see,” was all I could manage. I hadn’t thought of whether those words would offend the men’s side.

“Oi! Coach!” Jamie Tartt poked his head out of the weight room. “Great job in your press conference!”

“Thanks,” I replied, unable to stop myself from returning his bright smile, which assured me that I’d at least avoided insulting him. “Glad you guys caught some of it.”

Another man joined him, his hair tied in a bun at the base of his neck. Dani, if I remembered correctly. “May we call you Coach Buck too?” His eyes shone with excitement.

His boyish earnestness made me laugh. “Um, yeah, if you guys want to.”

“Sick!” Jamie interjected, sticking his tongue out. “Roy never lets us give him nicknames. Although I like to call him-”

“Oi!” I ignored the way Roy Kent’s gruff voice made my heart skip a beat. “What the fuck are you two doing?” He marched over, his scowl only growing when he saw me. He turned to his players. “Is our fucking training interrupting you two ogling over the shiny new toy?”

My own brow furrowed as I stepped closer to him, our quickly reddening faces inches away from each other. “Shiny new toy?” I sputtered, feeling his breath against my face and not caring that he could feel mine or if he could hear my heart slamming against my chest. “Wait a fucking-”

“Stop distracting my players,” he continued, his eyes dark. At this proximity, I could see the laugh lines on his face, evidence that he actually knew how to smile. “Worry about your own fucking team.”

Before I could say another word, Keeley hooked her arm through mine and gave a tug. “Alright, coaches, lovely chat but we should get going,” she hummed, clearly trying to diffuse whatever the fuck was happening between me and Roy Kent. “Greyhounds, we will see you later, yeah?”

With a deep grunt, Roy turned back to the weight room. “Whistle!” he bellowed. “Everyone on the pitch! Jamie’s leading you in fucking burpees!”

The sound of groaning filled the halls as Keeley yanked me away, Lucas on my heels looking amused. Keeley didn’t stop pulling until we were back in my office; the walk had done nothing to calm me down as Keeley leaned against my desk. Lucas sat in his chair, watching me with raised eyebrows. My pounding heart felt as if I’d just sprinted from one goal to another.

“Well, that was fun,” Lucas finally said in a light tone after watching me pace silently back and forth for a minute.

“Yeah, what was that?” Keeley squeaked. “I know Roy can be a bit rough. But that was…. interesting.”

Lucas smirked now. “I think someone’s still mad Roy Kent didn’t recognize her at the club. And didn’t want to dance with her.”

That broke my silence. “As if,” I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest indignantly. “I wouldn’t dance with Roy Kent if he was the last man on earth, with his fucking black clothes and fucking growling and-”

“Wait, wait, what’s this about a club?” Curiosity covered Keeley’s face.

Before I could answer, Lucas spoke up. “Alright, so we went out the night before we started here, just to relax a bit. And this one went to grab a drink and ran into none other than Roy Kent himself.” He chuckled. “And Kent had no idea who she was, he thought she was just some girl who wanted to dance.”

I cleared my throat. “To be fair, it took me a moment to realize who he was too. Stupid dark lighting and all.”

Lucas continued. “Then she overheard him tell Jamie Tartt, that, oh what was it?” He looked at me expectantly.

He’d finally gotten me to crack a smile. “I don’t need some young thing in a tight outfit trying to grind on me just so she can go tell her friends,” I growled, doing my best impression of the man I now officially couldn’t stand.

Even Keeley snickered. “Shit, that’s pretty good!”

“And he just kept digging himself into this hole,” Lucas went on. “Until finally, she compares him to Johnny Cash, says she’s not interested, almost tells him she knows who he is but decides not to give him the satisfaction, and struts off.” He wrapped an arm around me. “Then of course she surprises the hell out of him the next morning. Leaves him with his jaw on the floor while she’s cool and collected. It was stunning, truly.” He gave me a squeeze. “Plucky Bucky indeed.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, fun story, but no, I’m not bitter about not being recognized. I didn’t even get recognized back home when I was on a World Cup winning team, it’s hard to expect people here to give a shit who I am.”

“They will,” Keeley piped up. “You start winning, they’ll care. You’re gorgeous and charming and a world champion. And an American to boot, that’s always amusing. All you need now is a winning record on this side of the pond. Rebecca and I think you’re going to put W.F.C. Richmond on the map, and hopefully raise interest in women’s soccer in general while you’re at it.”

“No pressure,” Lucas added with a chuckle.

I sighed. This move was hard enough; leaving behind my home, my country, my family, my team. Leaving behind things I’d spent years building. And now, I was in a brand-new country, building something from scratch with wonderful strangers and the one person who knew me better than anyone else. Add to all of it the burden of being a woman in sports and the desire to have people take it seriously, and I was already feeling the pressure.

And Roy fucking Kent wasn’t helping with any of it.

#Roy Kent Something There #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fic #roy kent fluff #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso fanfiction

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john-get-the-salt · 2 months

Text

Coincidences w/ Ted Lasso

Imagine: A series of seemingly random coincidences lead you to meet a dashingly handsome football coach.

Contains: ted pining hardcore, small age-gap, fem!reader who is a singer, mentions of roy x keeley

Warnings: none

The first coincidence was Rebecca deciding she needed to work on her delegation skills, leading her to give Keeley the job of finding a performer of some sort for the annual AFC Richmond charity gala. The young woman preened at the task, and coincidentally knew exactly who she had to have.

You hadn't seen Keeley in nearly a year by that point. As a semi-popular American singer heading your very own world tour, you had little free time. But the two of you had kept in contact, calling and texting all the time. You met her a few years back on a shoot for a magazine spread on you and your music, by pure coincidence. She was the sweetest thing and you two became fast friends, despite you being a few years older than her. You had a lot in common and were very similar people.

Which was why, when she reached out with her proposal, you didn't hesitate to agree. In all honestly, you admitted to her, you'd been looking for a reason to relocate to England for a while now. Queue coincidence. It was your favorite place you'd ever been- and you'd been around a lot. You were also tired of life on the road. You were getting older, entering your late 30's, and you'd gained a strong desire to settle in one place and work more on writing/producing.

Keely was over the moon with the news, and jumped right into planning. Though the gala was still months away she did not hesitate to help you find a nice flat in the Richmond suburbs, as well as help with all of the other troublesome tasks that came with moving across the pond.

And just like that, your event of coincidences finally lined up.

It didn't come as a surprise that when you stepped off your plane and into the London airport, Keely was standing there with a big WELCOME sign.

Upon spotting her you immediately rushed over to give her a big hug. "It's so good to see you!"

"You as well,” she gushed. "Listen, I know you just got in and are probably exhausted, but the team is absolutely gasping to meet you."

"As long as I'm fed first, I'm in."

"Deal."

A few hours later Keely was parking the car at the AFC Richmond field house/office building. She had indeed fed you and let you change out of your comfy travel clothes. You were now in jeans and a nice top, as the two of you planned to go out after meeting everyone.

"I don't know why I'm nervous," you said with a little chuckle as you followed your friend in. "I think I just want all your friends to like me."

"Oh babes, do not even worry about that. They're going to love you. And you and Rebecca will get on like a house fire, I'm sure of it."

Ultimately you trusted Keeley, so you shoved down your nerves as you followed her down the hall and towards your destination. She knocked on a door labeled locker room, and only entered after someone called out the all clear.

"Hi everyone," she chirped. "This is one of my dear old friends.” She's just moved to Richmond and is going to be performing at the charity gala for us!"

You waved at everyone, smiling kindly. "Hi y'all, it's nice to finally meet the people Keeley never shuts up about."

"Oi!"

A rumble of chuckles echoed through the room of people.

Kee, once she finished glaring at you, introduced the team and then the coaches, Lasso, Beard, and Kent. Roy, who you'd actually met once before, gave you a friendly nod while Beard saluted you. Then Lasso....Lasso just stared.

He couldn't help it.

It wasn't as if Ted had never seen a pretty woman before. Heck, Rebecca was stunning and he worked with her nearly everyday. But you.....you were something else entirely. You were make-his-knees-go weak, heart-stopping, drop-dead gorgeous. He had to remind himself, with a gulp, who you were. You were a semi-famous star, who would never in a million years go for little ole him. Not to mention he was nearly 7 years your senior.

That didn't stop him from appreciating the jeans you were wearing, which did nothing to hide the curves and swell of your hips and behind, and the top that showed-ehem-a generous amount of cleavage. He gulped again. He was so fucked.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am." He finally managed to spit out, tipping his ball cap. "Welcome to Richmond. Is that a bit of a midwestern drawl I hear?”

You smiled sweetly, ignoring Keely's gaze as it burned into the side of your head. "It is, Ohio born and bred. And thank you, Coach."

"Oh Ted's just fine."

"Alright, Ted."

Holy mother of god his name sounded angelic coming from your lips, Ted thought.

Holy mother of god Keeley hadn't mentioned how hot the head coach was, you thought.

"We were just planning on going out to get some drinks if you lot want to join? Surely you must be done with practice by now?" Keeley looked to the coaches.

"I don't know, we still had a couple more formations to work on," Roy said with a frown, causing the team to groan.

"Oh come on, the sun's proper setting and the days nearly over. It'll be fun," Keely begged, giving Roy her very best puppy dog eyes.

"Come ooon," you joined in, batting your eyelashes at Coach Lasso. "I need someone to teach me darts.....and the tab'll be on me."

The boys perked up, knowing that was an offer their coaches couldn't turn down.

"Well that's mighty kind of you, though i'd sooner shave off my own mustache before I let you pay for all the drinks. But I do suppose I could pass along my darts expertise."

The team cheered, high fiving and hooping. You and Keeley joined in, exchanging excited grins.

"We'll meet you lovely ladies there, sound good?"

"Sounds like a plan, stan."

Roy snorted. "God, you sound just like him."

You flushed as Lasso shot you a beaming smile, before grabbing Keely's arm. "Come on, let's go."

She obliged, blowing Roy a kiss before steering you out of the lockerroom and back outside.

"Soooooo" she trailed off as you two climbed back into the car and headed for the bar.

"Go on, out with it."

"When were you going to tell me you had a thing for football coaches?'

"I didn't realize I had a thing for football coaches until I saw that fine man. Please tell me he's single? Otherwise I'm going to have to seriously re-evaluate my morals and stance on home wrecking."

"As single as single can be."

"Perfect."

You laid on the charm later that night as you hung out with the team and their coaches. True to his word, Ted taught you darts and refused to let you pay for a single drink of his. He may not have relented, but you did insist everyone else put their drinks on your tab.

When he asked why, you just shrugged and told him you had more money than you knew what to do with, so you liked to spend it on other people. You didn't say it to brag or to make him feel bad, it was just the truth. It was matter of fact.

And fuck did Ted think that was hot.

The two of you chatted about anything and everything, from your time growing up to stumbling through adulthood. You had a great time, and everyone was incredibly kind and welcoming.

Unfortunately after that night the team got busy and you threw yourself into preparing for the gala. Kee had been right, of course. You and Rebecca got along incredibly well, and when she noticed you had an eye for details she invited you to be included in the planning on the finer details of the nights entertainment. The lights, the band, the set-up, all meticulously planned. You saw the coaches and members of the team in passing, never having more than a few minutes to chat. But that didn't deter Ted, who took every opportunity to talk to you and ask about the move and the writing and if you needed help with anything.

The quick chats were nice, but all of the ongoing work meant you didn't have the opportunity to really hang out with the team or coaches again until the night of the gala itself.

Keeley and Rebecca had taken you dress shopping beforehand and helped you pick out an exquisite gown.

It was the perfect shade of dark blue, covered in sequins that caught the light and shone like stars in the midnight sky. The strap-less bodice and floor-length skirts left you feeling elegant and beautiful, and with matching jeweled gloves you felt like a symphony.

With your hair up, makeup on, and carefully tied into your dress; you were ready.

You arrived to the venue after most of the crowds, through a back entrance. The idea was that no one would lay eyes on you until your performance, then after which you would be free to roam and enjoy the rest of the evening. Rebecca and Keeley were in a group chat on your phone, swapping updates, and you shot them a quick message to let them know you'd. A few moments later the two found you backstage, each in their own stunning gown.

"Holy fuck," Keeley screeched the moment she set her eyes on you. "I knew you were going to look good but you look unreal, babe. Ted is going to want to rip that dress right off of you when he sees it."

“Keeley!"

Rebecca just laughed, used to Keeley's antics. "She's right though, you do look magnificent."

"Oh listen to you two, have you looked in any mirrors tonight? You both look hot."

"Enough about us. How are you feeling about the performance?"

"Honestly I thought I was going to feel nervous, but I'm just excited and antsy to get it done with so I can come hang out with you guys."

"Oh I'm sure. Ted's already cornered me once, asking where you were and when you would be coming," Keeley said, giggling like a school girl. "I told him you'd save him a dance."

"Keeley, what am I going to do with you?"

"After tonight I have a feeling you're going to thank me."

You were spared from any more of your friends teasing when one of the backstage managers came up to the three of you, letting you know you were to be on stage in 10.

"Well, that's my cue." Rebecca straightened up her dress. "I'm on to give a little speech and introduce you ." She gave you and Keeley kisses on the cheeks before leaving, promising she'd find you both afterwards.

"I'm gonna’ find my seat now too, I wanna be able to watch Ted the entire time you're on stage."

Despite everything racing through your head, you laughed. "Oh I love you Kee."

"I love you too babe. Good luck, I know you're gonna kill it aye?" She gave you a final thumbs up before hurrying off, leaving you alone.

You were quickly ushered to the stage wing, where you could watch as Rebecca thanked everyone for the attendance and donations. Perhaps at some point earlier in your career you would have felt nervous before a gig like this. But being on a stage and singing felt like home to you now, it was like second nature. You knew you were good and you were proud of that.

"Now I have the absolute joy of welcoming our guest of honor tonight. Not only did she agree to come and perform for us, but she also surprised us with a generous donation to jump start one of our new community programs. I'll let her tell you a bit about it herself, so please join me in welcoming her to the stage!"

Applause erupted as you were given the green light and you stepped out onto the stage. You didn't flinch when the lights hit you, nor when the eyes of everyone in the room landed on you. You smiled brightly, accepting the microphone from Rebecca. As you stared out into the crowd you quickly found Keely and the team, all sat at a table together. They waved and cheered and gave you thumbs ups.

"Thank you very much for that introduction Rebecca. I promise I won't take up too much of your time, I just wanted to give my sincere appreciation to Rebecca and Keeley, Ted and his team, and everyone else here for making me feel so welcome. Richmond has become my home, and I am so blessed to be surrounded by so many new friends. I am also incredibly excited to be helping launch a new school program, in partnership with AFC Richmond, to provide under-funded schools with equipment and support to help kids participate in sports and other extra curricular activities, including performing arts."

The crowd erupted once again, loud whistles coming from one table in particular. You flushed under the extra attention, pausing before you spoke again. "I'm sure Rebecca and the others will be coming forward with lots of details about all of that soon, but in the meantime I think I should get to what I know best."

Rebecca winked at you, taking a final bow before exiting the side of the stage. You set the mic in the stand already positioned at the front of the stage as the lights changed and the curtains raised on the band who'd been set up and waiting behind it. As the beginning notes of a song started, you closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in the music.

You sang your heart out, to some of your post popular hits and a few of the ones that meant the most to you. You shamelessly stared and smiled at your friends as you sang, giving Ted a wink as he watched, his mouth agape. You floated across that stage in your gown like you were amongst the stars and god with Ted looking at you like that, you could have sworn you were.

You finished the final note of your final song and stared, breathlessly, out at the crowd as the applause began suddenly and all of once. Your friends were on their feet, screaming so loud their throats would surely hurt the next morning. And there was Ted, eyes crinkled from smiling so hard, looking at you as if you were the only people in the entire room.

The applause continued, even as you took a bow and exited the stage. Your chest was still heaving, lungs trying to play catch up. You gratefully accepted a cup of water from some assistant, taking gulps of the cool liquid to soothe your throat.

"Sir I greatly respect you for doing your job, but I'm afraid I must insist that I speak with her."

You set down your water, turning to find the source of commotion. When you found it, you nearly choked on your own spit. Ted was standing nose to nose with a security guard, trying to get into the backstage area that was roped off.

"Now I don't like to raise my voice, but I'm about to get madder than a hornet's nest if you don't let me-"

"Ted!" You called out.

He looked up, meeting your eyes, and his posture immediately relaxed.

"It’s okay, he can come back."

The security guard nodded, unclipping the rope.

Ted slid past him, tipping his head. "Thank you kind sir, I hope you can forgive any threat I may had said in the heat of the moment. I-"

"Ted," you called again in warning, hoping he would just stop before the guard actually kicked him out.

"And I'm walking away." He finally got the hint, turning away from the guard with pink cheeks and walking towards you. You met him halfway, one hand holding onto your skirts so you didn't trip.

"I'm sorry about that sweetheart, I just had to see you and I wasn't about to let one guard-"

You grabbed ahold of the front of Ted's suit and pulled him in, capturing his lips with yours. He froze in surprise for a moment before relaxing into you. His mustache tickled in the best way, stubble gently scratching your skin. One hand came up to cradle your cheek, the other wrapping around your waist to pull you against him. Your hands moved up through his hair, scratching his scalp gently with your nails.

You pulled away at the last possible second, lungs screaming for air, though Ted's arm around you didn't let you get far. You stared at one another, chests heaving in sync, noses just a hair apart.

"Are you sure?" He said softly. "I'm not one of those young, athletic boys who would be lucky to have you."

You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the desire fighting with the hesitation.

You reached up, fingertips gently dancing over his cheek as you stared unabashedly into his eyes. "Ted, you are the sweetest and most genuine man I have ever met. You are so fucking handsome, and every time you look at me with those kind eyes it feels like fireworks are going off inside my chest. And I mean, have you seen your ass in those uniform khakis?"

That succeeded in making him laugh, and the worry in his eyes eased.

"I don't care what anyone else thinks, and I have never been more sure. I want you. If you'll have me."

Then he was kissing you again, this time taking the lead, wrapping both arms around your waist so he could lift you off your feet and spin your around. You smiled into his lips, unable to keep from laughing as he pulled back just far enough to look into your eyes again.

"I'll have you for the rest of my life if you let me, darlin’. I've been waiting so damn long for you."

"And I you."

He couldn't help it, looking down at you he leaned in to peck you quickly-then again-then again, leaving you breathless every time.

"Come on sweetheart, I think we've got some team bets to settle."

You laughed again, cheeks sore from smiling as Ted settled an arm around your waist and led you back out towards the gala. "No way, tell me the team didn't bet on whether we would get together."

"Oh no....they bet on when we would get together."

"Your team is full of cheeky little shits."

"Yeah, well they're about to become our cheeky little shits."

He paused at the edge of the room, looking out to where the team was impatiently waiting for his return and then back to you.

"Ready?"

You knew what Ted was doing, giving you one last opportunity to change your mind or go running for the hills. But you did neither. A series of coincidences may have brought you two together, but you knew know it was meant to happen this way. So you grabbed one of Ted’s hands, kissing his knuckles before interlocking your fingers with his.

"Ready."

#ted lasso #imagines #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #x reader imagine #x reader #writing

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light-yaers · 9 months

Text

Take Care: Chapter Nine

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: i love angst and i love it when roy acts like a middle aged white woman at a wine party where he laughs too loud and pretends he's having a great time just to get through it all

Word count: 6.5k

Chapter Nine

After a few weeks, you’d already got used to the tube journey from Richmond to Somerset House. You reluctantly found out that, despite London being one city and the tube routes being easy, it was so fucking huge that it took you almost an hour to get to work. Maybe that was your fault for staying in Richmond instead of moving, but you didn’t mind a longer commute into the City of London if that meant you got to stay put.

Pluto Press was unique, and you felt proud to have a position there. Your desk was by the window, looking over the Strand outside. Your colleagues were nice, and you got to work alongside artists and writers wherever you went. It was like a dream come true. Which was why, as you arrived home on the Friday of your second week, you couldn’t understand why you felt so… shit. You felt lonely, isolated, and so overtired that you were certain your brain wasn’t working at full capacity. You missed the team at AFC Richmond, talks with Keeley and Rebecca, Ted’s american jokes– Roy.

Since his last game, Roy had gone off the grid. You were lucky if you randomly saw him out and about in Richmond. You’d attempted to meet up with him after his retirement press conference, a month after the end of your placement and his injury, but to no avail. And even now, staring at your phone, glass of wine in your hand as you settled in for another Friday night alone, you had the urge to text him. You downed your wine before you did, and dropped the glass onto your coffee table as you opened up Roy’s and yours text chain. Then, you typed:

Are you coming to the game tomorrow? I’d love to see you!

Enthusiasm wasn’t the key to Roy’s heart, but you’d run out of options to get him to respond. It was only a friendly match, anyway, since the season was still a few months out. You wanted to imagine him there tomorrow, black shirt and black leather jacket donned, hands stuffed in his pockets, as he settled into his seat at the Dogtrack– not as a player, but as an admirer, maybe.

When you sat in the owner’s box the next day, with the whistle about to be blown, you couldn’t stop calling yourself an idiot. Why the fuck would Roy want to come back here, of all places? The pitch where he played his last game, the stadium where he trained for his last season ever, surrounded by the people who got to keep playing after he all but faded away.

You settled into your seat with a sour taste in your mouth and a frown on your face. Keeley squeezed your hand affectionately. “You okay, babe?” she asked.

You shook your head, trying to get yourself out of this hole. “I asked Roy to come,” you told her. “Stupid, really.”

Keeley frowned at you empathetically. “ You tried, babe, but I think that’s all we can do right now after his retirement.”

You nodded, feeling sick. “Yeah.” You forced yourself to perk up, to focus on the positives, and abruptly shot up from your seat. “Come on, Richmond!” you screamed into the void, in some attempt to make you feel better about it all.

That feeling only lasted so many days. By Tuesday of the next week, you were back to feeling overwhelmed, overtired, and so lonely that you genuinely didn’t know what to do with yourself. Most of your colleagues at work didn’t live anywhere near the west, so you were forced to leave after work drinks early, or not go at all, just to get home at a reasonable hour.

The walk from Richmond station to your flat was becoming so dull that you could hardly stand it. One Thursday in the beginning of July, you elected to cut through Richmond Green and travel a longer route home, just to stop your brain from imploding. You left the station in the complete opposite direction to your flat, and said fuck it in your head. You passed over the green, treading along the concrete paving around the edge, until you reached Mae’s pub.

To your surprise, inside you saw the unmistakable moustache of one Ted Lasso, sitting opposite the familiar hat donned by one Coach Beard. Your heart soared, and you bound into the pub before you could tell yourself to slow the fuck down. Ted spotted you as soon as you entered the bar, and stood up immediately. You realigned your direction of movement and took a hard right, heading straight towards the coaches.

“Well, howdy–!” You wrapped your arms around him before he’d even finished speaking. The happy smile on his face quickly dropped to a confused frown. Ted embraced you warmly, and it was clear to see that something was very wrong. “Hey–” He was going to ask if you were alright, but he stopped himself. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

Beard peered up at the two of you, his face stoney and thoughtful. His finger tapped on his chin in subtle curiosity and concern. Ted didn’t urge you to say anything, not for those few moments where he held you tightly. Beard gestured to Mae at the bar, and whispered “One lager, please, Mae. On our tab.” She brought it over in a matter of seconds, and you finally pulled away from Ted long enough to suck in a breath.

You glanced at the beer on the table for you. “Thank you, Mae,” you croaked, turning to look at her as she strolled back to the bar. She smiled at you warmly, and you finally took a seat alongside the coaches. “Sorry, Coach. Didn’t mean to ambush you,” you breathed out.

“I don’t mind it, not when it’s you who’s doing the ambushing,” Ted said, taking a sip of his beer and waving it off like it was nothing.

“Seems to me like there’s something going on,” Beard chimed in, and took a sip of beer to mimic Ted before him. His eyes seemed mischievous, like he was looking for gossip, but that was generally what Beard looked like when he wanted to know something. He was like an old, wise owl. He placed his beer back on the table. “It’s either that, or I just haven’t noticed that you’ve always looked like you’re in the middle of an existential crisis.”

“Very funny,” you let out, tapping your glass anxiously. “I’d go with the former over the latter, Beard.”

“I know,” he said, before he smiled at you knowingly. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You frowned at the table while Ted and Beard waited patiently for you to open up. You felt silly. How could you put your loneliness into words when it felt so unnatural? You had no reason to feel so terrible. You had a great new job, lived in a gorgeous neighbourhood, and had everything you could possibly want in life. You had the guys, and couldn’t wait until the season started up again in a few months, despite them being relegated to the Championship. You had Keeley and Rebecca, two strong and powerful women who you could confide in and rely on if you really needed to. You had… Well, that was just it.

Did you really have Roy anymore?

“It’s so stupid,” you started, trying to keep yourself steady, but all composure went out of the window as soon as those three words left your lips. “I have no reason to be this way. My new job is fucking fantastic, and I still get to live in Richmond, in my flat that I love so much, and I still get to go to games and see the guys and walk to Nelson Road across the green. This is all so fucking stupid.” You smacked your hands over your face in frustration. “I have no reason to feel this alone.” Your words were muffled beneath your palms, but Ted and Beard still glanced at each other with concern.

“You’re feeling lonely?” Ted asked gently.

You dragged your hands down your cheeks and sniffed through your snotty nose. “A little bit.”

“A little bit.” Beard mimicked you. You scoffed abruptly, and it felt good just for a second.

Ted shuffled next to you, and readied himself to speak. “Lemme tell you something about loneliness,” he started. “When you feel it, you always feel silly. You feel like a dang moron, because all it does is make you think about all the people you have in your life that are there to listen to you, yet when you reach out, you pretend not to feel that loneliness, am I right?”

You remembered the text you’d sent to Roy. So over enthusiastic in some attempt to hide how awful you’d been feeling. When he didn’t respond, or give you any indication that he’d even read your message, it just made you feel even worse. If you’d been honest, maybe he would have been more inclined to reply.

You nodded at Ted in understanding. “It’s hard sometimes. To tell people close to you that you’re struggling.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” Ted said. “That’s the catch, ain’t it? You wanna keep things light, you wanna keep things happy, but sometimes you can’t. And that’s alright. It’s okay to feel lonely, and tired, and tearful. Don’t beat yourself up for any of that.”

You held onto Ted’s words for dear life. You’d never understand how he was able to be so optimistic, so constantly happy. No one was truly like that, so you bet it was all a bit of an act. Even so, Ted had a way of getting through to you. His words resonated, and you found yourself listening to him more than shrugging him off. He was good to you. You had the small green, army man that he’d given you for good luck, in your pocket or your bag constantly, moving it around like a chapstick from garment to garment.

Even now, as you gently stuck your hand into your jacket pocket, the army man was there. Gun raised, knees bent in a defensive stance, ready to protect you.

“Have you… heard from Roy?” you asked.

Beard looked at Ted sullenly, almost, and you understand immediately. “Roy will be Roy,” Ted said, smiling at you halfheartedly. “His retirement press conference, though– jeez, it didn’t half tug on my heartstrings, here.”

“The end of an era,” Beard said, widening his eyes with grandeur.

“I haven’t seen him since the Man City game in May,” you said. “Two months.”

“He’ll come around eventually,” Ted said, trying to reassure you, but you were sure that nothing but seeing Roy’s face in person would be able to do that. Ted suddenly perked up. “Anyway, how’s the new job! Got some new friends? Got some new besties? Oh– have you met anyone special yet?”

If you didn’t already know Ted, this would be incredibly out of the blue. But, you did know him. He was sweet, and kind, and capable of distracting you from your sadness. He made you feel welcome, and loved, and thought about. And– he made you roll your eyes to oblivion.

You did just that, rolled your eyes into your skull with a smile on your face. “Job is great, but the dating pool is still very much dry, Ted.”

“Dang it!” he exclaimed. “Maybe the guys were right, all those months ago, huh? You should get on some dating apps, just for funzies.”

“Keeley has been wanting me to try out one, to be honest. It’ll only be a matter of time before she forces all of you guys to get on it,” you said, pointing at Ted and Beard in warning. “It’s called… um– something with a B. Like, Bantz, or Bumz. I don’t know.” You waved your hand in front of your face, giving up on remembering.

“Might be worth a try all the same?” Ted said, egging you on.

You sat for a moment, thinking, before you nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I should put myself out there, yeah?”

“Heck yeah,” Ted said enthusiastically. “No harm in it, right?”

Was there any harm in it? Surely not. You were a single woman, you were free to branch out. But, underneath it all, there was still something that held you back. Without meaning to, Roy’s head popped into the back of your mind. All that you’d shared over your year at Richmond, that unspoken thing that fluctuated between you.

You thought back to his final game then, as you remembered it all. The gentle way you held each other’s faces as you knelt on the floor beneath him, just to be close, just to let him know that you were there. The soft way he’d draped his arm over your shoulder as the team gathered after relegation. Despite the loss, and the end of his career, Roy had still laughed alongside the guys. His fingers had skimmed over your knuckles under those fluorescent lights, noticed by everyone, but it had all gone unsaid. It didn’t need to be mentioned, not when everyone had known this was bound to happen eventually.

You and him, him and you. It fit, didn’t it?

But, with the silence of the past few months, you didn’t know anymore. Maybe it was just the proximity, the familiarity of being around each other, that had made you believe it all to be so. Roy hadn’t said a word to you in months, hadn’t tried to. Had it all been in your mind?

As you finished your pint with Ted and Beard, talking about the new season, you forced yourself to stop thinking about Roy. You’d let him know you were there, and it had gone unreciprocated. As much as a part of you still yearned for him to be near, you had to stop putting in effort when he wasn’t trying to do the same to you.

The name of the dating app was Bantr, and as soon as you messaged Keeley to say you were doing it, she replied with a winky face. You scoffed to yourself as you filled out your profile, and within an hour had got chatting to a guy from Richmond.

The thing about Bantr; it was anonymous. You knew ages, and usernames, and location, but not actual names, or looks. It was a refreshing change from other apps, and you found yourself having a great conversation. Within a week, you’d already arranged to go out for dinner in the town.

As you walked to your date, a week or so after seeing Ted and Beard, you spoke to Keeley on the phone for a pep talk.

“What if he’s ugly? Or boring?” you said.

“Give it a chance, babes, you haven’t even met him yet!”

“I know, I know. I don’t think I was made for dating apps, honestly,” you let out, laughing to yourself to avoid a proper anxious meltdown. You thought you looked quite good, as you wore the same jumpsuit that you had for the charity ball last year. It was amongst the only fancy clothes you fucking owned.

“You’ll get used to it. How long has it been, anyway?”

“Since I’ve got some, or since I’ve been on a date?” you joked.

Keeley cackled down the phone. “The date. No– both.”

“A long time. For both, unfortunately.” You could practically feel Keeley grimacing.

“Go and get some then, babes,” she urged you on. “You never know, he might be your soulmate.”

You felt sick immediately, and frowned in disgust. “Ew, stop talking like that. Soulmates aren’t real. And if they were, I doubt I would meet him on Bantr.”

“Stop being so cynical,” she said, like a teacher telling off a student. “Take it from me– even if he’s not your soulmate, still try and have a good time, alright?”

You laughed softly. “Alright,” you gave in.

“You deserve some fun! Promise me you'll have fun,” Keeley said sternly. You would never be able to deny her.

“I promise,” you let out, alongside a smile.

“Tell me everything. Love you.”

“Love you too, babes,” you said, before you hung up.

You dropped your phone into your bag, and inhaled sharply as you made your way into the restaurant. Maybe this would be a good thing. A change of pace, something to get you back out there into the real world. As you waited at the bar, you shoved away the thought of Roy from your head. He didn’t belong there anymore, not when he’d made no attempt to stay close.

Rebecca had been right. Footballers were dangerous. Especially the ones who pretended not to care.

You spent the first twenty minutes of your date wondering if you were being pranked. There had to be a camera crew round the corner, there had to be some presenter who would pop out and tell you it was all a massive joke– because he was gorgeous.

Lucas was his name. He had a face that lit up a room, and a voice that whacked you in the chest. For a week, you’d been discussing books, films and all the things you enjoyed over text. That didn’t change when you were face to face, but the accompaniment of seeing his face was definitely a plus. He bought you drinks, and was interested when you spoke, and all the things you’d been dying for over the past few years of being chronically single.

“You’re new to the area, aren’t you?” he asked, as you finished your main courses.

“Partially,” you said, tapping your wine glass. “I moved here last year for a masters degree.”

“Oh, fantastic. In what?”

You let out a breath. “It’s sort of a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” he said, smiling. “We still haven’t had dessert.”

Jesus fucking Christ, he was utterly perfect. You told him everything. The mix up from the university, the placement being at AFC Richmond, of all places. You spoke about your time there in depth, not even realising that you’d been whittling on about the guys, and Ted and Beard, for a while. By the time you were done, your dessert plates were thoroughly devoured, and you’d both moved onto something a little stronger. Lucas swilled a whiskey, and you clutched onto a gin and tonic.

“That sounds like an awfully big adventure,” Lucas said, awestruck, when you were finally finished.

“It was a blessing in disguise, really,” you said, smiling to yourself as all the memories of the year came flooding back. “I still got a position at Pluto Press, and I got to know some of the best people I’ve ever known. Luck was really on my side for this one, I think.”

“Definitely sounds like it,” Lucas said, gawking at you with eyes that only made you feel one thing; heard. “So, you’re still friends with them all?”

You nodded. “Absolutely. I saw Ted and Beard last week, actually. They convinced me to get on Bantr, funnily enough.”

“Well,” Lucas said softly. “You’ll have to thank them the next time you see them. I wouldn’t have met you otherwise.” Your heart lurched in your chest. You fought the urge to look away and cool your face down by fanning your hands. “Also, you need to do me a favour,” he continued, and you smiled questioningly.

“What’s that?”

“I was a big Chelsea fan growing up, the biggest, if you can imagine it,” Lucas said. “My favourite player of all time was number six, Roy Kent.” Your heart dropped into your gut. When before it had been pumping happily, it was now a stone in your stomach, ready to be ejected through your windpipe. “The next time you see him, can you get me his autograph?”

You stopped breathing for a moment, from a lack of what to say. As soon as Lucas saw your face, he changed his demeanour immediately.

He leant forward and looked at you with a gentle smile. “I’m totally joking,” he said quickly. You could breathe again, and found yourself stuttering out some chuckles of relief. “It was a joke, truly,” he repeated himself.

The two of you shared some awkward laughter, but you were thankful it was all a bit of fun. “You scared me,” you said. “You don’t know Roy. If I asked for an autograph he’d fully think I’d gone mad.”

“You seem to know him quite well,” Lucas figured out. “I’m probably barking up the wrong tree, but he doesn’t seem like the friendly type.”

Your chest burst with the need to defend him immediately. “That’s not true at all. Don’t believe what the press says,” you said quickly. “Roy is… he’s… well– an arseshole, completely, but…” You swallowed, allowing yourself to think of him, just this once. “He’s also one of the kindest people I know.”

Lucas smiled, satisfied. “I’ll take your word for it,” he said.

He paid the bill, and batted away every attempt you gave to pay half of it. As the two of you left the restaurant, Lucas put his arm out for you. You took it graciously, and the two of you walked back into town together. He walked you to your door as you continued your conversation, and when he rose up the steps to your building, he gently let your arm go.

“I had a really lovely time tonight,” he said.

“Me too,” you smiled. You meant it.

“I’d really like to see you again,” he said strongly, before he backed up slightly. “Only if that was something that you wanted, as well, of course.”

You were already laughing by the time he’d finished. “I would love that, yes.”

“Great,” he said. “I’ll call you?”

You nodded, and he nodded too, both of you smiling like two school children who’d just discovered crushes on the other. As he left, you watched him walk away and around the corner. You felt giddy, you felt content, and you couldn’t believe it had all gone so well. Part of you was certain it was all too good to be true, but you followed Keeley’s advice as you entered your flat. You told yourself not to overthink it, to let yourself have a good time, to embrace something going well for once.

Even so, as you got ready for bed at home, your mind kept flashing back to Roy. He was part of you, and it was impossible to ignore it all. As much as you shouldn’t have, you felt guilty. You and Roy had never been a thing, never gone there, yet you felt like you’d betrayed him, almost. The happiness from your beautiful evening quickly descended into sadness. You’d never felt more lonely than this, despite having a lovely meal with a gorgeous man.

You dropped yourself onto your sofa, and brought out your phone. Quickly, you clicked on Roy’s name and began typing out a message. You sent it before your slightly drunk self could take it back, choosing to be honest with him for once in your life.

I miss you.

As the season kicked off, you focused on work. You applied yourself generously, and were hanging out with your colleagues in the city even more so. You took Keeley’s and Ted’s advice on board– you opened yourself up to more. You went on a few more dates on Bantr, including a second date with Lucas, over the next few weeks.

None of them had worked out well, apart from Lucas himself. He’d kissed you after your second date, and you’d had to tell yourself not to invite him into your flat for a drink. You didn’t want to rush it all, didn’t want to dive into something that you were enjoying at this pace. Despite being in need– desperately, if you were being honest– you held yourself to a higher standard than that. Not that there was anything wrong with having fun and sleeping around, but you were out of practice. You’d rather sleep with someone you knew a bit more, before jumping straight in.

Lucas seemed fine with that, too. He made an active effort to call you occasionally, and you’d both talk about work or your plans or your friends and family. He made you laugh, and that was a big green flag in your eyes.

“So, when are you going to fuck?” Keeley said, and you scoffed abruptly. You both sat in the owner’s box at the Dogtrack, watching Richmond’s third match of the Championship season. July was well and truly over, as the second week of August had just begun.

Still– nothing from Roy. You’d stopped caring to count the days.

“Not everything has to be about sex,” you hit back.

“Sure, I know that. But if he’s really as gorgeous as you say, why the fuck haven’t you yet? Are you playing hard to get?”

“Absolutely not. If anything I probably reply too fast to his messages,” you said. “I just… I don’t want to rush. We’re having fun, and he’s lovely, and– I just don’t need to worry about when sex is going to happen or not happen.” You made yourself believe the words you were saying, but you were definitely lying.

Keeley saw straight through you. “It’s going to happen on your next date, isn’t it?”

“God, I fucking hope so,” you burst. “It’s been over a year for me, you know.”

“A year? Like– a calendar year?”

You nodded severely, like it was the worst thing in the world that you hadn’t been dicked down in over 365 days. Since moving to Richmond, you’d never had the opportunity to, if you thought about it. You had your work colleagues, who overlapped as your friends. Shitting where you ate was always a bad idea, especially with a bunch of footballers. As much as they were all gorgeous in their own ways, you couldn’t imagine sleeping with any of them– well, except…

“What about Roy?” Keeley’s tone changed to something much softer. Her gaze hit you gently, and her eyes told you it was okay to open up to her. “You didn’t ever… you know.”

You frowned as soon as she brought him up. You shook your head, not knowing what else to say. When Roy was brought to your attention now, all you felt was anger. Red, burning rage, penetrating deep into your bones. Your prior loneliness and sadness had turned to being pissed off.

“No. We never did.” Your voice was blunt, plain, so devoid of anything other than severity, that you hated the way you sounded. You let out a sigh, and told yourself to push forward. “He’s a footballer, Keeley. And you know exactly what he’s like. Maybe I thought something was there, but it’s been three fucking months. He hasn’t contacted me at all, and honestly– I’m done with it.”

Keeley quickly dropped her hand into your lap, clutching her fingers over your own. She smiled at you. “Screw him. You’re so much better than you were last month, so fucking screw him.”

You smiled at her, feeling your anger dissipate. You were lucky to have her, Keeley, because she wholeheartedly understood you. She supported you, and held you when you needed to be held, and yelled encouragement at you when you needed it, too. It was then, as Richmond failed to score a goal, and subsequently performed their third tie of their season so far, that you couldn’t wait for her to meet Lucas. Maybe this would turn into something great, if you only let yourself fall into it.

A week later, across the green and beyond his neighbourhood, Roy stared at his phone for the umpteenth time that day. He had no new messages, no missed calls, not even any notifications from Dominos or Pizza Hut. He counted the days in his head– thirty-four– since you’d last contacted him. That message, the last one you’d sent him, saying you missed him; he still found his gut coiling and his chest compressing when he thought about it.

As he oversaw his under 9’s girls football team on the pitch, he slotted his phone back into his tracksuit. This was all getting to be too much for him– missing you, avoiding Richmond, growing out his fucking hair– but he couldn’t seem to shake himself out of this after-retirement slump.

He regretted the conference. Putting his heart on the line at the end of his career, bursting into tears behind the microphone and in front of the press. You’d messaged him about that, too, saying that you were proud of him, that you wanted to see him, that it’d been a while. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to respond. He was a prick, he knew that more than anyone, and the fact that he was actively avoiding you and other people who gave a shit, made him feel even worse about it all.

It only made him want to stay away more.

Maybe he could coach these under 9’s for the rest of his life, and live in seclusion, only interrupted by his yoga mums and an occasional glass of rosé.

He entered his house that evening, grabbing a beer as soon as he did. He popped off the top, and glugged back a few gulps. The evenings were bright in summer, and it only made his house feel emptier. He glanced around his living room, skimming his eyes over his overflowing bookshelves, when he caught a look at your article.

He’d framed it, and placed it in the middle of his homemade cards from Phoebe. As much as it stung him to look at now, it was a reminder of you. Those months together at Richmond, his final game, all of it. He thought of it all more often than he wanted, as his mind roamed and landed upon things that only made him feel worse. Going from playing football everyday to this was a big change. It hurt his heart profusely, but he knew it was partly his own doing.

He’d cut himself off from everyone, shut himself away for the foreseeable future. In some ways, he felt he deserved it. He’d battered away every attempt at people to reach out. You, Ted, Keeley; their names sat in his phone with messages from over a month ago that he’d never responded to. He gulped back more of his beer as he started getting angry at himself, and a split second decision had him finishing his drink and grabbing his house keys. He left his empty house and headed into town, as the sun still shone high over Richmond.

You hugged Lucas as you approached the bar, and your table outside. He kissed you on the cheek affectionately, before he pulled out your chair. You sat, and he confidently waved over a waitress to take your drink orders.

This was nice. Your third date, and neither of you could get enough of the other. You sipped on wine and talked about your daily lives, sharing jokes over some olives, as the sun skittered across the lush outside space of a central Richmond bar.

“How are they doing?” Lucas asked, popping an olive into his mouth.

“Not good,” you said. “They’ve tied three games in a row. Not the best after relegation, really.” You shrugged, picturing Sam’s sullen face after the game last week.

They were all so tired, all so capable, but they’d lost Roy. It was doing a number on all of them. They missed their ex-captain.

“Hm, that’s a shame. What do you reckon is holding them back?” he asked.

You often felt giddy when Lucas asked you about football. He listened to what you had to say, took on board your points, and thought you knew a lot more about the sport in general. It was a welcomed change from what the guys at the club had thought of your knowledge.

“Lots of things, I suppose,” you said, taking a sip of your drink before you started. “Having Ted and Beard was always going to be a learning curve, but that wasn’t the reason for their relegation. Jamie Tartt was taken back by Man City a few months before the end of their previous season, which drastically made things worse, amongst other things.”

Other things being Roy.

“Other things?” Lucas said, and you wished he hadn’t.

You were trying this thing where you didn’t bring up Roy when you didn’t need to. It had helped you a lot so far, over the past few weeks, and kept your moods happier in general. When you thought of him, it was often difficult to get him out of your mind again. It only ever reminded you of the past few months of silence, and no one needed to be in the firing line for that– except him.

Nevertheless, you sucked in a breath, and drank a large gulp of your wine, before you forced yourself to continue. “Well, their final game of last season. Other than the loss, and the relegation itself, they were definitely shaken up by–” You stopped, but not because of anything in your mind.

Your heart catapulted into your throat when your eyes focused on him. Black t-shirt, black leather jacket, black jeans. His hair had grown out. He looked scruffy, and unkempt, and all the things that he hadn’t only a few months ago. You noticed his limp first, next to the steely gaze that he shot to the world around him.

“Roy.” His name burst from your mouth.

He was fast approaching, about to pass the bar, and you didn’t want him to spot you. You weren’t in the mood to see him now. You wanted to enjoy your date, and get laid afterwards, and not think about him ever.

Lucas hummed and nodded. “Oh, yeah. Losing Roy must have been a big change for them, you’re right.”

“No– uh,” you said, suddenly leaning forward to clutch onto Lucas’s arm. “Can we go inside? I suddenly have a really bad chill.”

Lucas widened his eyes at you in concern, but he didn’t seem to catch on. “Really? It’s still quite warm. I can grab you a blanket, would that help?” he suggested. God dammit he was so considerate, and kind, but you didn’t think a blanket would fix this. Panic set in tenfold.

You rethought your escape plan. “I– I’ll go to the loo, and grab one on my way out,” you said frantically, standing up far too quickly.

Your leg hit the table abruptly, sending a sharp pain through your kneecap. You squeaked, and your glass toppled over suddenly. It was too late to be stopped, as it fell from the table and smashed upon the floor. Glass shards littered the concrete, and your presence was alerted to everyone at the bar, and beyond.

Lucas got up swiftly, and clutched your arm. “Are you okay?” he asked, worried.

“Yeah, I just–” You looked up, and you froze.

Roy Kent stopped walking, as his eyes focused on your face. You felt your blood boil uncomfortably beneath your skin, as his gaze took in the panicked expression on your brow. The jig was up. He’d spotted you, due to your utter clumsiness, and a wave of upset ravaged in your chest.

The first thing Roy thought when he saw you, was how much you were glowing. You hadn’t glowed like that in a while, not unless he counted the night of the charity ball, or when you’d interviewed him in his dining room. The sun settled over your shocked expression, a look that should have made you look scary, like a deer in headlights, but it only made his heart lurch.

There was a man before you, clutching onto your arm as he asked you if you were okay again. He rounded the table and held you close, and as he did you finally looked away. You smiled at him, clearly embarrassed that you’d broken a glass and whacked yourself. That look was one that Roy recognised– you’d looked at him that like many times before.

This is what he’d allowed himself to pass by. You, and drinks in the summer, chatting over a bowl of olives as you swished a straw into a spritzer or got froth on your upper lip from a beer. He was a fucking idiot. Roy told himself this was it. He could either go over, and get you back– get it all back– or he could miss this opportunity and never fucking try. When he started walking again, you snapped your gaze back at him in warning.

Roy chose to ignore it.

You could’ve punched him.

“What was that all about–?” Lucas said, as he followed your gaze. He stopped short as soon as he saw Roy, and smiled excitedly as he looked back at you. “Is that… Roy Kent?”

You inhaled sharply, deeply, trying to calm yourself down as a wave of anger rose from within you. “Yes. Yes, it is,” you said, giving up. There was a look on Roy’s face that you knew well, that fake smile that he put on for people, when he was pretending to be a joking version of himself.

“What a coincidence!” Lucas exclaimed.

You hummed, trying to keep your tone light. “Massive,” you said bluntly.

As Roy stepped towards you both, you felt your chest crumble ever so slightly. Lucas peered at him like an awestruck kid. This was the last thing you’d ever wanted to fucking happen.

Roy gestured to the broken glass on the floor. “Think you dropped something.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” you said, as you inhaled his words for the first time in three months. Alongside your anger, you felt your throat start to close. Seeing his face again after so long was a hit.

“Roy Kent,” Lucas said happily, sticking his hand out. Roy shot you an amused look as he leaned in and shook it. “Big fan. I’ve heard a lot about you from this one,” he said, gesturing to you affectionately.

“Have you now?” Roy said. The sweet way he was talking was all a farce. He was playing nice for your sake, but you had a horrible feeling that he was going to go overboard.

“Yes. All bad things,” you said, smiling sarcastically. Lucas laughed loudly, and Roy smiled overenthusiastically, like someone at a pantomime performance. It was incredibly off-putting, and made you feel slightly sick. It was probably overlaid from the deep panic you felt in your gut, amongst other things.

Roy and Lucas parted. As they did, Lucas peered down at you. He took one look at your face– your gaze stuck on Roy bluntly and trying not to scream– and utterly misinterpreted your emotions. “Would you care to join us for a drink?” he asked Roy.

You sucked in a breath. “Oh, no, he’s–”

“You know what,” Roy cut over you. “I’d love to.”

After a year of knowing him, you knew this was it– this would finally be the time you punched Roy Kent in his fucking face.

CHAPTER TEN

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl @royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff@ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming @toomany24s @kashee-h @infinetlyforgotten @secretnook @cluelesslilsharkie @callmecasey81 @deepdarkvelvet @twiceinabluemoon @cardeegans @golden-hoax @kingleahhh @hoalkk1 @sunderland-6 @ellouisa17 @thesestrangerslikeme @elissaaa @scrumptiousroadponymoney @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @ysmmsy @seacactusplant @pedritosgirl2000 @loveslide @ryleyrooroo @hanybunch @tweasley20 @witchyanya-7

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izzyspussy · 7 months

Text

Rating Ted Lasso Characters Based On If They'd Respect My Pronouns (Correctly)

Roy "We Stayed At GAY Til 3AM And Then We Had Crepes With Some Drag Queens" Kent: 11/10 no fucking shit. He would defend me from misgendering also, even if we weren't friends. He's the very embodiment of that guy who fought the trans guy and then fought the authority figure who scolded him for hitting a girl.

Nate "Genius (Code for Autistic)" Shelley: 11/10 are you kidding. If only quarantine had happened in his universe he'd have pronouns too. Also his girlfriend obviously already does.

Jamie "Prettyboy" Tartt: 11/10 duh. No, he doesn't know off the top of his head what part of speech a pronoun is, but only because nothing in the universe could matter less. And much like Roy, if he saw someone else being contrarian for the purposes of being a prick for absolutely no earthly reason, he would be eager to do something about it.

Keeley "Just The Tip" Jones: 11/10 did you see her. Never have I personally received more solidarity than from (butches and) full tilt Barbie Girl femmes like Keeley. She may be cis and she wears "women's" clothes, but she's still doing drag every day. She gets it.

Colin "Right by This Pink Triangle?" Hughes: 11/10 obviously. He would be so good at not making a big deal out of doing it correctly himself or correcting others, because he knows what it's like to just want to live your authentic life without being a spectacle.

Coach "You Should See Him In Drag" Beard: 11/10 which you should've guessed. Look at him. Look at him with your heart. You know he has pronouns you've never even heard of that he takes out for special occasions.

Ted "We Don't Not Care" Lasso: 11/10 why is this even a question. Practically the entirety of Ted's goals in life are to be respectful and kind and help others do the same. Sometimes that's hard and he fucks it up, but this is easy. C'mon.

Sam "Social Justice Warrior" Obisanya: 11/10 like. Obviously. I have nothing else to say, like. Obviously. Obviously.

Bumber-"Impending Class War"-catch: 11/10. If anything, given the opportunity, he would encourage me to have more pronouns.

Dani "Joy" Rojas: 11/10. These are getting very simple now, and require less and less explanation. He promotes joy. What else do you want.

Rebecca "Ask Your Daughter What It Means" Welton: 11/10. She's a cutthroat and a genuine feminist. She doesn't care if a bunch of freaks are scared of strangers' genitals, and she's certainly not going to let something so petty get in her own way.

Jan "I've Run Out of Fun Epithets For Everyone And He Wouldn't Mind This Unfun One That's Blunt About That Fact" Maas: 11/10 of course. There's no logical, moral, or social reason not to, and there is a wealth of evidence supporting gender affirming behavior.

Isaac McAdoo: 11/10. And he would (unnecessarily) instruct all the other lads to do it too. He might struggle with it at first if we had known each other previous to my transition, but not out of malice or negligence, and once he got on track he'd stay there for life.

Leslie Higgins: 11/10. He's a jazz musician with ten thousand gen Z children. He knows at least as many trans people already as any natural member of the queer community.

The Rest of The Lads: 11/10. We all know this to be true. Next.

Georgie Tartt: 11/10. Have you seen her son. She's prepared for this.

Sharon Fieldstone: 11/10. Have you seen her do her job. She's good at it.

Dottie Lasso: 9/10. Her heart's in the right place and that matters! She is inescapably Midwestern in both the good ways and the bad ways, though.

Jake: 8/10. Have you seen him do his job. He's bad at it.

Rupert Mannion: 6/10. He's a trans inclusive misogynist lmao. He also will treat correct pronoun usage as a privilege if he gets butthurt enough.

James Tartt: 3/10. He'd respect a trans man who performed masculinity to his standards, but he is definitely afraid of girlymen and women who are better than him (most women).

#jack facts #ted lasso #hc #i do vague sir but i do not vague at you sir #also yes i do know beard and bumbercatch's first names but i thought this was funnier

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its-time-to-write · 6 months

Note

how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3

I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂

I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!

smile at me

It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?

Or something.

Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam.

“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”

“It’s literally my job,” you told him.

Apparently, that didn’t matter.

But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once.

It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look.

Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge.

“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”

Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around.

The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle.

“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”

Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”

You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?”

You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”

He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”

“He broke up with me.”

Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”

You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all.

“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues.

You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”

Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included.

“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”

A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani.

As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.

—

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.

You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”

The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”

Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening.

“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump.

“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain.

Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown.

“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say.

Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”

You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head.

“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”

“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.

“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”

Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”

You laugh and follow him to the elevator.

—

It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively.

Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.

“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”

It’s not a problem.

Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain.

But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.

He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman.

Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back.

“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”

You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver.

“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce.

You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring.

—

“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm.

“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.

You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair.

“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”

You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.

“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”

You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.

The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.

—

Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.)

So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life.

And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him.

So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel.

You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.

—

Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired.

You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking.

“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”

You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments.

—

You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you.

“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep.

You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night.

Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved.

Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”

You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”

Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”

You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”

“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”

“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”

Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green.

Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips.

“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.

It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter.

It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.

The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”

“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”

Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”

Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”

“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”

“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning.

“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”

“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”

“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”

You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”

Jamie shoots up. “What?!”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”

Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”

You grin as you climb onto his lap.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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buckychristwrites · 9 months

Text

When The Rain Gathers | Chapter Three | j.t.

↳ Pairing: Jamie Tartt x f!reader

↳ Word Count: 4.2k

↳ Summary: Pain hits like a downpour, but when a heartbreak from your past is what greets you at your new job at Nelson Road Stadium, it's more like a catastrophic tsunami.

↳ Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Discussion of parental abuse, fluff and angst.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Main Blog

It had been the longest first week of your life.

For the most part, you shadowed Sharon to get a feel for how things were done around Nelson Road Stadium. It was mostly self explanatory, as it was all things you had already done before. There was only one session you had missed with her in the whole week.

Friday evening was more than welcomed when it finally came. You sighed happily when the clock read that it was time to leave. Come Monday morning, you would be released to start seeing the players, and anxious just didn’t seem to describe how you felt. All you wanted to do at this moment was pick up Ivy, go home, order pizza and curl up on the couch.

A knock at the door pulled you from your daydream.

“Hiya!” Keeley called, her voice bubbly as the door creaked open. You smiled at her, surprised.

“Come in,” You urged, taking a seat once more as she walked over.

“How are things going?” She asked with a genuine look. “Settling in alright?” After a brief moment of mulling her question over, you shrug.

“About as well as to be expected,” You said, surprising yourself with your honesty. She gave you a small, soft smile.

“Adjusting to a new job can be hard, I know,” She said. “When I had just started my firm, I felt like a fish out of water, you know?” I nod my head understandingly.

“Add in the fact that I haven’t lived in England for over six years, I’ve never ever lived in London, and I’m navigating this new place with a toddler, and you may as well call me a martian.” Keeley snorted, her head falling onto her shoulder. Her amused look faded into one of empathy.

“Rebecca and I were wonderin’ if you’d like to join us for dinner at Ola’s tonight. Sam’s restaurant.”

My eyebrows raise. “Sam has a restaurant?”

She nodded excitedly before explaining, “It has Nigerian food. It’s wonderful. And the whole team will be there!”

Your smile faltered, and Keely was quick to pick up on it. “Don’t worry! They’re loads of fun, once you get to know them.”

As if getting to know the team as a whole was the problem, and not the one player you knew the most.

“I don’t know…” You said, your eyes jumping around the room in an effort to avoid looking at her anymore. “I don’t have a babysitter for Ivy-“

“Bring her!” She exclaimed. “We’d love to meet her!” She gave you another lingering look. “Rebecca and I just want to welcome you to the Richmond family.”

Your eyes meet hers this time. It was quite clear that Keeley was one of those people that simply does not take no for an answer. But there was no question. The answer had to be no.

“Maybe next time?” You offer, heartbroken by the way Keeley’s smile faltered. “I just would rather have a babysitter for Ivy.” A long moment passed where Keeley just eyed you, and then she nodded understandingly.

“I’ll hold you to that next time, you better believe.”

You laughed. “Of course.”

When leaving that night, your office locked up tight, you felt incredibly relieved. Every step that you took closer to the parking lot made you more and more excited to get home. The hallways had largely emptied out, but in the distance, you could hear the post-training commotion coming from the changing rooms. Despite your short tenure with the club, you found yourself loving the sound. There was something quite wholesome listening to it. The laughter was always echoing through the hallways, and hitting your heartstrings in all of the right ways.

As you got closer to the changing room, you found yourself slowing down in an effort to listen. Through the window, you could see that the players were all dressed, and mostly just mucking about.

“Oi, Tartt,” Colin called. “Ain’t your date with Anastasia tonight?”

Though you couldn’t see Jamie, or hear a response from him, the response he got from the team told the story. The chorus of “Oooooooooo”’s followed by praises and laughter bounced off the walls.

Something about it made you feel nauseous.

“What date is this? Three?” Sam asked while throwing his bag over his shoulder. Jamie walked into view.

“Four, actually,” Jamie corrected with a smug smile.

This only seemed to rile them up more, Isaac appearing to shake Jamie’s shoulders.

“Have you… you know?” Dani asked.

Jamie pursed his lips. “I don’t kiss and tell, lads.”

“But you have no problem fucking and telling,” Isaac pointed out. Your eyebrows rose to your hairline. A small part of you was surprised by their vulgarity, until you remembered that they didn’t have a reason to censor themselves, especially since they didn’t know you were listening. You pretended that the idea of Jamie sleeping with someone else didn’t make your skin crawl.

“Wait, wait, Jamie…” Sam asked, waving his hands out in front of him. “Does this mean you have not slept with her?” Jamie’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red. A tell that he was embarrassed. When he didn’t say anything, his teammates began to round on him.

“Tartt! You fuckin’ gentleman!”

“Lasso has gotten to him, lads. He made him a carin’ guy!”

“He’s gotta properly fluff a girl up now before his willy stands up.”

“Does this mean you love her and want to cherish her, Jamie Tartt?”

“Boys, boys,” Jamie said, lowering his hands to the floor slowly. “When there is somethin’ to tell…I’ll tell it.”

You decided you’d heard enough, pulling your phone from your pocket as you began to walk down the hall once more. Your fingers were moving without the explicit permission of your brain, as if you were on autopilot. The next thing you knew, you were bringing the speaker to your ear. It’s unclear what part of the conversation made you change your mind, but one thing was obvious: You no longer wished to spend the night alone at home.

“Hello?” The bubbly voice answered.

“Hey,” You said, your tone nervous. “I’ve given it some thought and… is that invitation for dinner still open?”

Jamie stared at your receding back, your words stirring something in his chest. Dinner? You mean…a date? So soon after you’ve moved home?

He shook his head. It didn’t concern him anymore. You were just another girl in his life now. What you did was of no concern to him.

Except it was a concern to him. He just couldn’t help it. Even after three years apart, he still felt so drawn to you, like you're the North and he’s a compass that can do nothing else but point to you. As unfair as it was, as much as you wanted him to fuck off and leave you alone, he couldn’t help it. The thoughts of you crept in when he least expected it. He wondered what your house looked like, and what you did in your free time now that you lived alone, and where you did your grocery shopping, and if you had found a new favourite takeout place. But most of all, he wondered if there was any part of you that would ever consider, even in the least bit, forgiving him.

By the time he began to walk again, you had already disappeared out the door and into the car park. He was still staring down the hall when he came out of his thoughts. The boys came up from behind to follow you out, and Jamie plastered on the best smile he could muster as he did the same. He had a date, after all. What was there to be upset about?

The drive home seemed to go by quicker than normal due to Jamie’s preoccupied thoughts. Who was the dinner with?

He fumbled with his keys while attempting to unlock his door. Was it with someone he knew?

Dropping his bag next to the front door, he made his way upstairs for a quick shave and to change. After all, he showered back at the stadium. Worse, was the dinner with one of his teammates?

The phone chimed, bringing him back to reality. Anastasia’s name crossed over his lock screen. Normally, this would bring him a shock of excitement. But now, at this moment, he felt nothing as he picked up his phone.

R u picking me up? x

Didn’t he already tell her that he would? He typed back a simple Yeah before turning back to his closet to dig out some shoes. When his phone chimed again, he huffed. Why am I getting so annoyed? He found himself asking.

U better behave urself James Tartt! x

Real annoyance filled his chest. He couldn’t count how many times he told her not to call him by his full name.

“I only ever behave myself,” He grumbled, dropping his phone back on the bed without responding.

“Alright, love, you ready to behave yourself at the restaurant?”

“Yes!” Ivy shouted, jumping up and down. She was wearing the purple dress she had picked out, a white bow in her hair. You laughed before peaking back in the mirror and straightening out the dress that she had picked out for you. The smile faltered only slightly. Was this too much? It wasn’t formal, it felt more… clubby to you. But you knew how angry the tiny fashion critic would be if you tried to change.

“Let’s go, Mummy!” Ivy shouted, tugging at the hem.

“Alright, alright,” You sighed, shaking your head as you whipped her into the air before bringing her to your hip. A quick Google search had told you that the restaurant was just around the corner from you, and you were thankful to not need the pram. “Do you wanna walk or be carried?”

“Walk, please!” She shouted happily, bouncing up and down.

“Alright, but you better keep hold on Mummy’s hand or a car’ll turn you into an Ivy pancake.”

The surprise on her face made it impossible not to laugh.

“NO pancake, Mummy!”

“The tiniest Ivy pancake!” You continued to tease as you slipped your shoes on. The toddler shrieked in dismay, still smiling and giggling at you. As you reached for the door, your other hand extended out for her. She didn’t hesitate before running up and smacking her tiny palm into yours.

The cool evening air felt perfect when you stepped outside. Ivy proudly walked beside you, feeling like one of the grown ups.

“Are you ready to meet the people Mummy works with?” You asked as the two of you stop at a crosswalk.

“Yes!” A beat passed. “And eat!”

“Oh yes,” You agreed, nodding. “That’s more important, isn’t it?”

The light changed to Walk, and the two of you made your way across. The fact that Ivy wasn’t trying to run away from you made you feel a little easier about the evening ahead. Already, you could see the restaurant slowly coming into view.

The anxiety filled your tummy, but the squeeze of your fingers from the toddler at your side made you feel slightly better. At least someone there was unconditionally on your side.

The door opened and released an array of sounds, filling the quiet from the outside. The dining room was filled with footballers, who were laughing loudly as multiple conversations happened at once. In the middle of the room, the tables were all pushed together, the table set like a family style dinner. You looked down uneasily at Ivy, who only looked excited despite the amount of people around. At first, as you crossed the threshold into the restaurant, your arrival seemed to go unnoticed. But then, a flash of blonde bounded through the room. She shouted your name before throwing her arms around you. Just by her behaviour, it was clear she was already a few drinks deep.

Keeley kneeled down to the toddler’s level, who was suddenly holding onto your legs. “And this must be Miss Ivy?” She smiled warmly, her voice gentle. “I’m Keeley. It’s nice to meet you.” Ivy stared at Keeley with a curious glance, though her face was still largely hidden behind the hem of your dress. You pressed your palm to the back of her head, your thumb stroking her hair.

“Sorry, she’s so shy,” You explained, giving her a sheepish smile. Keeley shook her head as she stood up straight again.

“‘S’alright,” She said with an unwavering smile. “I’m just glad you’re here. Come on!” She took your free hand and led you and Ivy to the other side of the table. When a high chair had been set up at the end, your heart skipped a beat. You lifted the toddler up and set her in the seat. She looked pleased, as she knew she was about to get food. As if he had a sixth sense of reading minds, Sam Obisanya appeared out of nowhere and set down a plate of chicken nuggets and fries in front of Ivy. And before you even had the chance to protest, you noticed the nuggets were already cut up. You look at Sam in wonder.

“You didn’t need to do all this,” You said to him, swallowing the lump in your throat. Behind the two of you was a buffet style table of food. Sam waved you off.

“As soon as Keeley told me you were bringing your daughter, I decided to do this.” His expression grew embarrassed. “I wanted to apologise for the team’s reaction the day you began. It was not fair for us to judge you so harshly, and so quickly.” Overhearing, Dani Rojas turned around, his smile warm and friendly.

“Yes, we owe you a sincere apology,” He added. When you turned, you found that Isaac had his arms out, gesturing towards the entire room.

“That’s what this is,” He told you. “Our Welcome-To-The-Team-Sorry-For-Being-Dicks dinner.”

You shook your head, astonished. “This is so nice, I’m-”

An arm wrapped around your shoulders, and when you turned, it was Rebecca, with a deep smile.

“We’re so happy to have you here,” She said, bringing you in for a hug. When you looked over, Keeley was playing with Ivy as she ate her dinner, the toddler looking as though she was starting to get comfortable with your new friend. When your eyes find Rebecca again, you can feel them welling up with tears.

“I’m just going to run to the toilet real quick,” You said, desperately trying not to sound strained. She nodded understandingly before letting you go. As you make your way to the back, you have to refrain from rushing. You didn’t want to come off like something was wrong. The door swung shut behind you, and you pressed your back against it, taking deep breaths to calm down.

As the door shut behind him, Jamie looked around Ola’s with a wide smile. Anastasia was to his left, hugging her arms around her torso.

“James, why are we here?” She asked him without a single effort to hide her annoyance. Flinching, he gave her a look.

“Me whole team’s here,” He said, as if it were obvious. When she stared at him with a hard look, he sighed in defeat. “We won’t stay long.”

It only took one teammate to notice Jamie for the whole room to erupt into cheers and shouts. He smiled as he walked up to Moe, clapping his hand into his friend’s before pulling him into a hug.

“Life of the party’s here now, ain’t he?”

Moe, Zoreaux and Colin all shook their heads and laughed as they greeted their friend. Jamie saw them glancing at Anastasia as she followed him through the room. She didn’t speak to anyone, and it took him a moment to realise she was staring down at her phone.

Shaking off his annoyance, Jamie spotted Keeley at the other end of the table. She had her back towards him, and it appeared like she was talking to someone, though he couldn’t tell who. A comfort fell over him as he approached.

“Hey, darlin’,” He said, putting his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, first in surprise, and then in excitement.

“You made it!” She exclaimed, giving him a hug. He closed his eyes at the contact. After the week he had, and the date he was already predicting he was about to have, he needed a hug. When she pulled away, she nodded to the side. “Look who’s been keeping me company?”

He followed her gaze to the toddler in the high chair that he somehow missed upon approach. His face softened as he looked her up and down. She had deep brown curls and familiar looking eyes. He lowered himself down to her level, her round blues staring intently at him.

“And who are you, love?” He asked, his voice friendlier now. She pulled her hands away from her mouth.

“Ivy!” She exclaimed, trying to hide a smile.

“Ivy? My, what a lovely name!” Jamie threw a glance back at Keeley. “What, are you a nanny now or somethin’?”

“Of course not, she’s-”

“You?”

Jamie turned back to the toddler, his face curious and playful again. Ivy was staring at him with watchful eyes as she waited for his answer.

“Who am I?” He asked, pointing to himself. She nodded excitedly. “I’m Jamie! Nice to meet ya!” He held a hand out towards her for a shake, but she just shoved it away. As she pulled her hands back towards her face, she eyed him, as if begging him to respond. He pretended to be offended with a loud gasp, which made her giggle. “Someone has to teach this muppet some manners!” He reached forward and gave her round tummy a tickle. A shriek of laughter left her mouth as she tried to escape him, though it was impossible due to the high chair.

“Jamie!” Someone called from across the room. Turning away from his new friend, he rose to his feet, the welling feeling of elation in his chest dissipating. When a disgruntled shout came from behind, he turned towards Ivy once again, who looked at him with a fierce angry face that, for whatever reason, gave him deja vu.

“What?” He asked. In lieu of words, she angrily crossed her arms over her chest. He mirrored her, making the same face back at her. “Do ya want to come with me?” The anger washed away from her face in an instant, and was replaced with bright enthusiasm.

“Yes!”

Jamie’s heart lurched when Ivy reached out towards him, an invitation to pick her up. He hoisted her up and tossed her on his shoulders, receiving a squeal of approval in return. With one index finger in each of her hands to keep her steady, he began to walk the room.

“Dani!” Jamie shouted as he approached his friend. There was a bounce in his step now, and he could hear Ivy giggling as she held on tightly to his fingers. Rojas turned, his eyes immediately on the toddler and causing his crescent moon smile to fill his face.

“Hello there, amiga!” He exclaimed, taking a step forward. Ivy ducked behind Jamie’s head.

“This is Ivy,” He said proudly. He turned his head ever so slightly towards her. “Ives, this is Dani. He’s a friend! Don’t be shy.” Though she popped her head out a little more, she didn’t not greet the stranger. Jamie gave Dani a reassuring glance. “Don’t worry, she’s just feelin’ bashful, don’t ya, love?” Dani tickled Ivy’s foot, causing her to giggle loudly. A broad smile filled his cheeks.

Jamie continued his parade around the room. At the same time, he found himself wondering who this little girl belonged to. If she didn’t come with Keeley, the first person he saw her with, then who? She didn’t resemble anyone else in the room. And he thought he had met the families of at least most, if not all, his teammates.

The bell of the door rang out, and when Jamie turned, he saw Roy Kent walk inside. He gasped dramatically.

“Look who it is!” He announced as he made his way to the dark haired man. “Roy Kent! Roy Kent! He’s here-“ He jerked Ivy to the left. “He’s there-“ He jerked Ivy to the right. “He’s every-fuckin’-where!” He bounced to the beat of the song, instigated by the sounds of the little girl’s laughter.

“You might want to watch your fuckin’ language around her,” Roy warned.

“Who are you to talk?”

He shrugged. “Not a person walkin’ around with a toddler on my shoulders.” Though his face was still impossible to read, Jamie didn’t miss the way Roy’s eyes softened when he eyed Ivy. “Who brought her?” Jamie shrugged in an exaggerated fashion, making the toddler bounce and laugh once again.

“No idea.”

Roy began to head further into the room, with Jamie and Ivy close behind. The walnut mist footballer eyed the food table and remembered how starved he was. Not that he could do anything about it in the moment.

“Are you having fun?” Rebecca asked as she approached. Jamie bounced some more, raising Ivy’s hands up along with his own before jerking them back down quickly, earning another contagious laugh.

“I am,” He said, as Rebecca gave Ivy a fond look.

“She’s very sweet,” She remarked as she rubbed the toddler’s back lovingly. It seemed it wasn’t just Jamie who Ivy had wrapped around her finger. The whole room was slowly dropping like flies to the toddler’s adorable smile and piercing laughter.

“Who’s kid is she?” He asked Rebecca, the smile still wide on his face. Despite his distraction, he didn’t miss the way her smile faltered.

“You-“ She looked between him and Ivy, a deep crinkle forming between her eyebrows. “She’s-“

“Jamie Tartt!”

The shout started everyone in the room, including Ivy. He felt her release his hands as as he whirled around, his heart seizing as he felt her fall backwards off his lap.

The entire room seemed to pause. Jamie expected a loud thump, already flinching at his failure, but it never came. When he turned, he found that Ivy was safe in a pair of arms.

Yours.

Behind you was Jan Maas, who had stopped you when you were on your way out of the bathroom to return to the party. It was just a normal conversation, though not without some very intense and obvious flirting from his side. Since he’d been a few drinks deep at this point, and wasn’t on the roster as a participant in the therapy program at AFC Richmond, you decided to let it slide. It wasn’t until Anastasia had yelled out at her date that you turned and realised that your daughter was no longer in the high chair with Keeley.

As you raised Ivy to your side, resting her on your hip, your eyes never left Jamie. His eyes were pleading as they stared into yours, the pieces of the puzzle coming together in his mind. Ivy picked that moment to wrap her arms around your neck, pressing her head against the side of yours.

“Mummy,” She said lovingly with a content sight. You raised your hand and patted her back. Opening your mouth to speak, you were stopped by the Russian model coming up behind Jamie.

“I want to leave,” She hissed into his ear. He glanced back at her with a look that suggested he had forgotten about her presence entirely.

His eyes turned back to yours, searching for answers. You had them all, but no words to give them with.

Anastasia grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door to leave. His feet dragged across the floor as he kept throwing glances back towards you, even still when he was outside and walking by the windows.

The party had largely resumed, except for you, as you set Ivy back down in the high chair and sat down next to her.

The moment you had never prepared yourself for.

He knows.

You stared at Ivy, who was now eating her foot again, albeit while acting a bit more fussy than she had before. Was she just worn out? Or was she missing him? You buried your face in your hands.

“Hey.”

When you looked over, Keeley was sitting down next to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You nod in acknowledgement. Even when you looked away, you could still feel her stare burning holes in the side of your head.

“So, you and Jamie…”

You closed your eyes.

“Yup,” You said slowly, drawing out the word. “Me and Jamie.”

“How long ago was that?”

You glanced at Ivy, who was dancing to the song playing over the speakers. “We knew each other forever, and dated for four years, I think. Ended about…” You narrowed your eyes in thought. ”…three years ago.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Keeley looking between you and Ivy. You could practically see the maths she was doing in her head like it was written in white in the air around her.

“Does he know?” She asked. You sigh before turning to look at her again. She nodded towards Ivy. “Does he know she’s his?”

You laugh slightly without an ounce of humour.

“He didn’t,” You said, with a shake of your head. “But he definitely does now.”

A/N

I don't know if anyone cares to know about this, but i thought I would take the time to explain some of my process with this fic, mostly because I love it and i've put a lot of thought into it! A big inspiration for this story has been the song Euclid by Sleep Token, and in particularly, the line "Yet in reverse, you were all my symmetry, a parallel I would lay my life on. So if your wings won't find you heaven, I will bring it down like an ancient bygone". The duel POVs are to show that, even though they aren't together, Reader and Jamie still have an unexplainable symmetry, and constantly parallel each other, and as the story goes on, the parallels will become more obvious. Each time the POV changes, it's when a thought or action of theirs parallel. The title also comes from this song, from the line "Do you remember me when the rain gathers?" You'll also notice that rain is a prominent feature in this fic. A fun fact is that I debated making the title the whole lyric, but decided it would be too long. This fic was also almost titled Take Me Back To Eden, which is another sleep token song, but i decided WTRG fit it better! If you cared enough to read all of this, thank you for supporting me in my writing. I have tried to slow down with my writing so i can take better care with my chapter planning and writing, I hope that work shows! Please let me know what you think! :)