#dani rojas one shot
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I have a request!!! I need more Dani fics and if no one else is asking for them then I will be the one to ask everyone 💕 could you maybe write a Dani fic using the Tulip prompt from the flower list? (I think its cute for him, and! tulip!! for!! dani!!)
tulip for sunshine in human form, coming right up!
tulip: an act of affection so blatant everyone notices, dani rojas x reader, 1.1k
You didn’t often find yourself at Nelson Road. You went to Richmond matches and knew Dani's friends, of course, but for the most part you kept your respective work lives pretty separate. Your relationship wasn’t a secret by any means, but the two of you enjoyed having a rather private life together.
Dani had left for early morning training before you’d even woken up, but when you did you saw that he’d left his phone behind on the kitchen counter. Oddly enough, it was sitting right next to a muffin you recognized as being from your favorite bakery down the road and a note in his looping scrawl saying that he hoped you’d enjoy the pastry.
That was typical Dani, never forgetting to make you feel loved but in doing so forgetting something important to him.
After polishing off the delicious treat, you decided that you were going to return the surprise by bringing his phone down to the training facility. He’d surely be able to survive a day without it, but the muffin had you feeling sentimental.
Now you were here, making your way down the corridor towards the locker room to find Dani.
“Oh my god. Oh my god, you’re here!” Keeley’s unmistakable voice rang out from a little ways away and you turned to see her hurrying full speed at you in dangerously high heeled boots, grinning profusely the whole way. For such a small woman, she nearly bowled you over with the force of her hug.
“Hi Keeley!” You chuckled, returning her embrace with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. Out of everyone at Richmond, Keeley was the one you were closest with. Besides Dani, of course.
“Hold on. What are you doing here? Is the world as we know it ending—god, is someone dead?” She gasped, eyes widening.
You rolled your eyes playfully, “That’s rather dramatic, don’t you think? Everything’s fine, Dani just forgot his phone at home.”
“Oh, he is gonna be so excited to see you, babe!” She squealed, giving you another quick squeeze. “Right, well I have a brand meeting to get to, but text me later, yeah? We need to get dinner soon!”
You barely had time to say yes before she was running off. Ever the energizer bunny, Keeley was.
Loud laughter poured out of the locker room at the other end, letting you know the lads were in there even before you rounded the corner.
Jamie was sitting right opposite the open door so he saw you first, winking at you in his usual playful manner before speaking loudly. “Well, well, well—look what the cat dragged in!”
Dani lit up the second he heard your name echo through the rest of the team, abandoning doing up the laces on his boots in favor of beelining straight for you. “Mi amor! What are you doing here?”
“Figured you might need this.” You procured his phone from your bag, holding it up with a small smile at his excitement.
He beamed pure sunshine at you, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around in a bone crushing hug. It seemed a little too eager for such a small action, even for Dani, but you were pleasantly surprised. Paired with the content sigh he let out, he’d even garnered the attention of the coaches too.
Nate waved at you on his way out of the office, Beard just nodded, and Roy grunted his greeting, but Ted grinned, looking ecstatic.
“Y/N! To what do we owe this fine pleasure?” He drawled, propping his hands on his hips. He gasped before you could answer. “Wait no, don’t tell me! You won the lottery? You went to see a fortune teller and they told you to come here for some cosmic unknown reason? Oh! You found out your visa was about to expire and came to ask one of us to be in a fake marriage with you so you wouldn’t be sent away?”
“I think that last one’s the plot to The Proposal, actually.” Nate chimed in, looking equal parts amused and concerned.
“Brilliant movie though.” Roy said gruffly, drawing murmurs of approval from the room.
“I came to bring Dani his phone,” You chuckled, finally able to pass off the phone to him now that he’d set you down on your feet.
“Isn’t she the nicest, most perfect girlfriend in the whole world?” Dani exclaimed, squeezing you around the waist again. He was still beaming ear to ear, an infectious sort of excitement that had always been one of things you loved most about him. You took the chance to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“She is quite the catch, Dani.” Ted agreed, smiling good-naturedly.
You ducked your head bashfully, leaning into Dani’s side to hide your warm cheeks. “I should go. Let you boys get back to training.”
“Coach, can I walk her to her car?” Dani asked hopefully, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Would be a real shame if you didn’t, son. We’ll be on the pitch when you’re all finished up.” He replied. He turned to you right after, giving you a nod. “And you, don’t be a stranger around these parts! It’s nice to see a new face every once in a while.”
After assuring Ted you'd be back sometime soon, Dani threaded his fingers through yours, giving you a grand tour of the facility (and happily introducing you to every person you passed, no less) on your way back out to the car park.
“Thank you for coming!” He was still smiling brightly at you, so big that his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“You don’t have to thank me all the time, love. It was nothing, I wanted to visit you.” You insisted, sliding a hand around the back of Dani’s neck. You weren’t expecting his expression to fall, and when it did you were quick to cup his cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“I want to thank you. I appreciate you coming all the way down here for me, and I want to show it.”
You hadn’t thought of it that way before. It was Dani’s way of saying I love you, even though he said that plenty too. His love language wasn’t limited to just one, you realized too. Any way he could show you how he felt about you, how much he appreciated you, he did.
That was just who Dani Rojas was—happy and sweet and caring and a million other things you had yet to learn about him. You were excited to find out.
You kissed him soft and sweet, threading your fingers through his hair to bring him closer to you still. Thank you. I love you too.
#dani rojas#dani rojas x reader#dani rojas x you#dani rojas x y/n#dani rojas one shot#dani rojas imagine#dani rojas fic#dani rojas fluff#ted lasso tv
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Home for the Holidays (s.o. x reader)
pairing: sam obisanya x reader
word count: 2.3k
warnings: none? let me know if i missed anything! (not proofread haha)
a/n: a little christmas post for my favourite boy! I got a little carried away with this and basing it off the christmas special from season 2 but I hope you enjoy!!
“I thought you were spending Christmas with your mom,” Ted comments as you sit in his office, a semi-pitying look from both him and Keeley making you want to cover your face in your festive jumper.
“She picked Christmas Eve instead of Christmas Day so to the hospital she goes,” you reply, twirling your phone in your hands.
“What about your sister?” Nate asks from his perched position.
“Her girlfriend invited her on a surprise trip to Paris until the end of the month. She invited me to come after but it felt weird y’know?”
“Damn, where’s she been hiding that money?” Coach Beard asks.
“No idea. My sister says she’s good at investing or something but I also have a sneaking suspicion she’s a nepo baby”. The group in the room do a collective ‘ah’ in understanding. Keeley asks about Sam, to which you explain that he doesn’t celebrate Christmas and since the relationship was relatively new, you didn’t want to scare him off with how intensely your mum and your sister love to celebrate. That was before you found out neither of them were going to be there of course.
Ted looks to Coach Beard, asking what he’s doing for Christmas.
“I thought you two broke up?” Keeley asks as he announces that he and Jane are going to a pagan tradition at Stonehenge.
“We did, but we bought the tickets before we broke up so we’re going as friends,” he replies with slight distaste.
“Well that’ll be….what about you Higgins?” Ted changes the subject.
“We open presents and then host a party for any members of the team who don’t have a place to go on Christmas. We usually get about two but Ted and Y/N, you’re more than welcome”.
“I appreciate the offer Higgie Smalls but once Henry wakes up in,” Ted checks his phone, “about an hour, he wants to open presents together and spend the whole day on FaceTime”.
Higgins looks at you for your response. You nod, a small smile on your face, “yeah, sounds like it could be fun. Thanks Higgins”.
After the boys had finished their Secret Santa exchange, you wait for Sam out in the hallway of the facility, saying hi to the other players that walked past and getting a high five from both Colin and Isaac. Sam was second to last to leave, still slinging his coat over his shoulders as he and Dani walked out together.
“So I will see you at Higgins’ house later mi amigo?” Dani asks Sam, who nods and gives him a firm handshake before they bump chests, both with big smiles on their faces.
“Ay I got invited to that too,” you smile at the two boys as Sam grabs your hand to walk to his car.
“I thought you were spending the day with your mum and sister?” Sam asks, looking down at you with scrunched eyebrows.
Your face falls as you realise you hadn’t told him. You quickly apologise, explaining that because work had been so busy the past few days, you thought you had told Sam that your family was going to be gone, but apparently that was not the case. He is quick to shush your apology, claiming that it’s fine because now the two of you will get to spend your favourite holiday together after all.
“I guess that means we could head over to your place for a bit before we go to the Higgins’?” you look across at Sam as he starts the car, but he is quick to shut it down.
“Do you not want to get changed before we head over? I can drop you off at your home and pick you up when you are ready,” he replies, looking straight at the road. “Besides, I have a dish I need to pick up as a housewarming present”.
“Oh,” you slump, a little defeated, “ok”.
Getting ready for the party did not take nearly as long as it felt like Sam had expected, as it took him forever to respond to your ‘I’m ready!’ text. Something felt weird about the whole ordeal but you push it off, wanting to enjoy your favourite day with some of your favourite people. By the time Sam pulls up in front of your house, you’d checked your makeup a million times in the mirror, made sure you’d unplugged your curling iron about the same amount, and was watching cat TikToks when the doorbell rang. “You look lovely my love,” Sam compliments as you open the door. You thank him, holding out your hand for him to take before you close and lock your door, making sure not to trip on the front steps.
The drive to the Higgins house is short, meaning you two are still somehow early for the event. It comes as a relief, though, when they open the door, as Sam had informed you in the car that he was in desperate need of the restroom. You hold back a laugh as the smallest of the Higgins boys answers the door, and you and Sam both look down with a little ‘hello’ and a wave. You take the dish from Sam as he enters the house first, but Higgins is soon to join you both, showing you two to the living room where all the appetisers had been laid out.
“What a wonderful spread,” you compliment, to which his wife Julie replies with a thank you and a large smile. As Higgins asks what Christmas makes Sam think of, to which you can’t help but laugh again as you know the answer, Julie offers you a glass of wine (which you gladly accept).
“Colonisation,” Sam replies, “but I am more than happy to celebrate the day with you. It’s Y/N’s favourite holiday anyway, so it won’t be my last,” he smiles at you. “We also have some friends in Lagos who celebrate with jollof rice and goat meat, so I made you some”. You hand the dish to Higgins, who looks sceptical.
“But don’t worry, I used chicken,” Sam clarifies.
“Thank God,” Higgins mutters, looking down at the dish before one of his older sons walks up, complimenting Sam on his protest against Dubai Air. Hearing Higgins swear in support of his son surprises both you and Sam, causing a round of light laughter before Sam is asking about the bathroom again.
“If it’s your favourite holiday, why aren’t the two of you doing something separate from the party?” Julie asks as she comes back in with the wine.
“I forgot to tell him that my family wasn’t going to be available, and when we celebrate, we go all out, so I didn’t want to scare him off when we’ve only been together a few months”.
“I doubt anything could scare that boy off,” Julie chuckles, “he’s the happiest, most dedicated boy on the entire earth. Plus, he’s in love with you”.
You blush, not expecting to get so personal with the Higgins family quite yet.
“She’s right, Y/N, we’ve all noticed it around Nelson Road,” Higgins joins in, standing next to the arm of the couch.
“That’s…nice,” you nod, not entirely sure what else to say.
The next chunk of time is spent voluntarily helping clean up the house before everyone else arrives, Sam having turned gathering the wrapping paper into a game with the youngest. You smile from the corner of the couch you were picking extra pieces of tape off of; watching Sam play with kids always made your heart melt.
“Did Santa bring you something good this morning?” Sam asks.
“It’s ok, I know there’s no Santa,” the youngest shrugs as Sam sits down at the dining table.
“But of course there is!” You comment, making your way over to the two, positioning yourself in the doorway.
“How could he possibly deliver presents to everyone in one night?” The boy questions.
“Ah see, but it is one night split between 24 different time zones. Santa’s true power is not his speed, but his endurance,” Sam explains.
“Wow,” the boy’s face lights up, “he got me a bicycle,” he smiles.
“Brilliant,” Sam gives him a double fist bump before the youngest runs off at the sound of the doorbell.
You walk over to where Sam is sitting, running your hands down his shoulders as he wraps one of his hands around your arm. You lean your cheek on the top of his head, muttering about how wonderful he is before he laughs, planting a kiss on the hand he grabbed, and shaking his head. The next to arrive are Dani, Jan Maas, and Richard-who also brought a date- all with something to offer in their arms. They look a bit like the three wise men, but with alcohol instead of gold. Zoreaux follows quickly after, looking incredibly smiley as he announces he had previously gone to the wrong house. As more and more people arrive, you start to feel that warm, tingly feeling that reminds you why you love Christmas in the first place. So many people around, all happy to see each other, brings so much joy, especially when it brings on a Nerf battle to which all members (children and adults) are very dedicated. Putting dinner together is a sight to see, considering the regular dining table was conjoined with a surfboard and a pool table in order to fit all of the guests.
You rest your head on Sam’s shoulder as he grabs a dish from one of his fellow players, smiling at the mention of goat meat and laughing as the youngest Higgins boy tries to sneak himself some wine from Richard’s bottle. “I’m glad we got to do this together,” you whisper into Sam’s turtleneck.
“Me too my love,” he replies, looking down at you and trying to kiss the top of your head.
Higgins stands up as everyone passes dishes around and makes joyful conversation, clinking his wine glass to make a toast. “I just want to thank everyone for coming,” he starts.
Sam raises his glass as you take your head off his shoulder, “to the family Higgins!” Everyone begins to cheer, Jan Maas clapping his hand against the table.
“You’re going to make me cry,” Higgins continues, “to my lovely wife, Julie, my sons, to you and all your families back in Lagos, Guadalajara, Groningen, Cordon, Montreal, Benin City, Harare, Kingston, and Santa Cruz de la Sierra. I know you would have preferred to be with them,” Sam reaches under the table and grabs your hand, “but it was truly an honour to have you with us, to share our traditions and help us make some new ones. To the family we’re born with, and the family we make along the way.” Sam squeezes your hand as Higgins finishes his little speech. “And most importantly, to Richmond!” “To Richmond!” Everyone cheers in response-you included, raising their glasses.
There was suddenly a sound similar to feedback from outside and the youngest Higgins goes out to check for the cause of the commotion. “Ho ho ho Higginses!” Ted calls from the street.
The team all crowd around the window, greeted by the sight of Ted and Rebecca with three buskers, all in festive outfits.
“Holy shit,” you laugh to Sam, who grabs your hand again before leading you out the front door. After spending a good bit of time outside with the team, dancing in the snow, everyone starts to say their goodbyes. You and Sam give parting hugs to everyone before getting in his car. He wordlessly starts to drive, and you assume he’s going to drop you off at your house, but as you miss the turn, you open and close your mouth in question.
“I thought we could continue the festivities at my place if that’s ok,” Sam comments, glancing at you before looking back at the road.
“Yeah, ok,” you smile, looking at the few houses decked out in Christmas lights as you keep driving.
“Now this sounds weird, but I need you to close your eyes as we walk in. I promise it’s nothing scary,” he adds that last part in response to the way your face scrunched up.
“Ok…” you laugh uncomfortably, covering your eyes with your hands as Sam links one of his elbows with yours, guiding you up to his kitchen before informing you that you can drop your hands.
The sight in front of you is truly amazing, and you almost start crying on the spot. Sam stands off to the side with a nervous smile as you scan the room, looking at all the Christmas decorations and a full table of your favourite desserts that stand in front of you. A trifle and a Christmas pudding, a spiced Victoria sponge and a pitcher of mulled wine. You turn to face Sam, still with the nervous look on his face, before running to close the distance with a bone crushing hug.
“I take it that you like it?” He asks, slowly wrapping his arms around you.
“I love it!” You sniffle as you let go, looking at him in admiration. “But how? Why? I mean you-”
“Your sister told me when she accepted that trip to Paris that both she and your mum would be gone, and I know how much you love Christmas, so I decided to put a little something together”.
“A little something? Sam, this is amazing! Thank you so much,” you hug him again tightly. “Why did you agree to go to Higgins then?”
“You love celebrating with other people, and I figured we could just add on to the celebration. Initially we were just going to come back here after Secret Santa, but it ended up working out because the Victoria Sponge wasn’t ready yet. So, I dropped you off first, and a little extra celebration time wasn’t going to do any harm,” he shrugs.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Only for you my love,” he chuckles, grabbing your face lightly, pressing a soft kiss onto your lips before turning back to the feast. “Now, let us not put this all to waste”.
You turn excitedly to the table, wondering how you got so lucky with such a wonderful boyfriend.
#ted lasso#sam obisanya#sam obisanya x reader#ted lasso fanfic#ted lasso x reader#jamie tartt#roy kent#dani rojas#ted lasso one shot#sam obisanya x you
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Countdown to the new season!
Images being posted by the AFC Richmond twitter account
#ted lasso#sam obisanya#dani rojas#colin hughes#jamie tartt#afc richmond#i hope they post one everyone!!!#I love these shots so much!!
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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart
Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.
Word Count: 8k
Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents
A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!
—————
Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?
Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?
Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!
Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.
Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.
There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.
She’d ignored every single one.
She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.
True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.
In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…
“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.
Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.
Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.
They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.
Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.
Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.
Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”
“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”
If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.
“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.
Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”
“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.
“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.
“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”
Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”
“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”
“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”
Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.
She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.
Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.
—————————
Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.
She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.
Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”
“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”
“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”
Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.
But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.
He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.
“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”
Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.
“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.
“Help with what?” Y/n asked.
Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”
Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”
“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”
“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”
Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.
Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“
“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”
Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.
“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”
Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.
“He’s quite handsome.”
Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.
Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”
“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.
Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”
Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“
Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”
“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“
“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”
Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.
“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”
Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.
She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.
Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.
—————————
Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.
Man City versus Richmond.
Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.
She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.
Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.
She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”
“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”
Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”
“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”
“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”
“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”
“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.
Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.
The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.
A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.
Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.
“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”
“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”
“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”
The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”
Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.
“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”
“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”
Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?
Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.
“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”
The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“
“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”
Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.
Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.
“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.
Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”
She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-
“Hey, Y/n!”
She stopped in her tracks, so close…
Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.
“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”
In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.
“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.
Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.
She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.
—————————
Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.
Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.
The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”
“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”
“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”
“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”
Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”
“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“
“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”
While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.
“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”
“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“
Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.
“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”
After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.
“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”
Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.
—————————
At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.
From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.
After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.
“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.
“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”
Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”
Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.
“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.
Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”
Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?
Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.
You’ve Got Mail.
She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.
For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.
After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.
“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“
A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.
“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.
She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.
“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.
“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“
Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.
“Keeley, what-“
“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.
Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.
“No.”
“Y/n-“ Keeley began.
“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”
“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”
Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”
Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.
The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.
Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.
They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.
“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.
“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”
Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”
“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”
“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”
“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.
“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”
“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.
“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.
“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.
“OI!”
Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.
“Fucking hell!”
“What the fuck?!”
Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”
“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.
“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”
Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.
Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.
They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.
Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”
Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.
Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.
They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.
“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”
Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”
“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.
“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”
“Yeah, who are you?”
“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”
Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.
Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.
Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”
While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.
They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.
“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”
“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”
“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.
Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”
“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.
Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.
“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”
A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”
Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.
“Hello, Mommy.”
Y/n’s eyes widened.
Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”
“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”
“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.
“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.
“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.
“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”
Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.
“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”
Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.
“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”
Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.
Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.
“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.
Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.
She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.
Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.
“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”
Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.
“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”
Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”
Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”
“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.
Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.
“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.
Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.
“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”
“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”
Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.
“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.
“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.
Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.
Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”
“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.
The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-
“Fucking hell.”
Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.
“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”
Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.
An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”
As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.
“Fucking hell,” she grunted.
“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”
Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”
“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.
“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.
“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”
Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”
Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.
“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”
“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”
Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”
“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”
Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.
Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.
“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”
“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”
“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”
Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”
“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”
If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.
“They’re okay with it,” she answered.
“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”
“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”
“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”
Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”
“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”
Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.
The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.
She was speechless.
“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”
“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”
The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.
“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”
“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”
“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”
Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”
Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.
Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.
Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.
“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.
“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.
Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.
“Hey.”
Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.
“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.
“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.
For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.
“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”
Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.
In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.
But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.
This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.
“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”
Y/n cries began to shake her chest.
“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”
A single cry escaped Y/n.
“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”
Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.
“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”
Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.
Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.
For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.
Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.
“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”
Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”
“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”
“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”
Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”
“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”
“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”
Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.
“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“
She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.
In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.
Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”
Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.
“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.
Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.
He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.
“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.
Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.
Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.
With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.
Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.
Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.
Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.
Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.
“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.
Jamie nodded.
“Does she feel the same?”
There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.
“No.”
——————
Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)
#ted lasso fanfic#ted lasso fanfiction#ted lasso fic#ted lasso imagine#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt imagine#keeley jones x reader#roy kent x reader#heartfirst
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Baby Let the Games Begin
I'll Write Your Name Chapter 3
Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader
5.1k words
Warnings: Language, drinking, almost-nice moments ruined by Roy being Roy
Roy slouched in his chair and looked over the lineup, trying to focus his attention on Nate and Beard’s ideas after the previous night’s match. His mind kept wandering back to the club, to the lipstick stain he’d washed off his face when he got home way past his bedtime, to the way she’d danced too close to him, to the knowing looks the guys had been giving him all morning.
As his hand absently brushed over his cheek, Dani’s smile filled the doorway. Behind him, a few guys popped their heads in, looking far too eager for an early morning that followed a late night of drinking. “Good morning, Coach!” Dani chirped.
“Hmmph.” Roy nodded in acknowledgement. “Rojas.”
The striker strolled into the office casually, as if mischief wasn’t written all over his face as he eyed his coach. “Did you have a good time last night?”
Roy shrugged. “Fuckin’ guess,” he mumbled, slouching further into his chair. “You?”
“Everyone had a great time.” Dani’s smile grew as he pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket. “In fact, someone had such a great time, she asked if I could give you this.”
The little slip of paper contained numbers- numbers that were already in Roy’s phone, actually. It took Roy a moment to comprehend the looks of awe on his players’ faces and the excitement on Dani’s. Oh, fuck, right.
“Wow.” Roy lifted his eyebrows, giving his best surprised look. “Me? You’re fucking serious?”
Dani’s face softened. “She liked you,” he teased. “It was very obvious. She could not stop smiling after you danced together!”
Roy nodded, praying he looked thrilled enough to satisfy the guys. “Yeah, no, it was fucking cool.” He cleared his throat and stuffed the phone number into a desk drawer. “Guess I’ll give her a call or some shit-”
“Morning, fellas!”
Roy’s heart skipped a beat as he watched Keeley squeeze past the guys to enter the office, wearing a little dress and that big smile of hers, the one that could knock Roy over any day of the week.
“Don’t you lot have training to get ready for?” she teased. As the guys left, all shouting out their congratulations at Roy- as if he did something worth congratulating- she turned her attention to the gruff manager. “Can we chat when you have a second?”
Roy nodded stupidly. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He nodded to Dani, who was the last to leave. “Thanks again, Rojas. Really.”
Once Dani shot Roy an exaggerated wink and strolled back into the changing room, Keeley whipped out her mobile. “Excellent job last night, Coach.”
She perched on the desk and showed Roy her screen, which featured a photo of Roy and a certain pop princess on the dance floor, huddled close and smiling at each other. If Roy didn’t know any better, he’d think they looked like two people in the early stages of falling in love.
With a small cough into his closed fist, Roy nodded. “Yeah, well. Glad we did a good job or whatever.”
Keeley stuffed her mobile back into her pocket. “Seriously, you two look great together. I was scrolling through some of the comments, and her fans are already obsessing over you. They’ll be calling you ‘Dad’ by the end of the month.”
“Dad?” he repeated, practically spitting the word out. “Why the fuck would they call me Dad?”
“It’s a term of endearment,” Keeley explained with a playful eyeroll. “Sometimes they call her ‘Mum’, and if they like her boyfriend, they call him ‘Dad’. Trust me, you want them to call you that. It means you’ve got their approval. And once you’ve got the fans onboard, the good press will follow.” She gave Roy a friendly little punch, the small touch leaving his skin burning. “Keep up the good work, Roy-o.”
As he watched her leave, Roy sighed to himself. Dad? What the fuck had he signed himself up for?
~
“D’you want a beer?”
“Sure.” I handed April my credit card. “And bring me a hot dog or something?”
I had dragged April along to my second Richmond game, insisting that I needed someone to chat with while I was supposed to be fawning over Roy Kent. As I waited for her to return with the drinks and snacks, I tugged at the sleeves of the Richmond sweatshirt April had bought for me. This whole thing was weird, so damn weird. My siblings had texted me about the photos of me and Roy Kent at the club- which they had seen thanks to my baby brother’s Google alert on me- and had teased me about my sudden “interest” in soccer. Of course, I’d played coy and said I was just supporting Dani Rojas, that Kent and I had just danced a little, and that he seemed nice. Of course, they didn’t see the way I wrinkled my nose as I texted those things.
Suddenly missing them, I sent a selfie with the pitch behind me, joking that the Dog Track was my new home. As I hit the Send button on our group chat, rousing cheers informed me that the team was coming onto the pitch. I cheered along with everyone else, this time adding some other names to Dani’s, like Colin and Isaac. Jamie Tartt lit up when he saw me, blowing a playful kiss. I waved coolly, keeping an eye out for-
There was that smirk. Roy raised his eyebrows when he saw me, looking pleasantly surprised despite the fact that Keeley had made sure to tell him exactly where I’d be sitting. I leaned back in my seat and raised my hand in greeting, hoping my smile and wink were playful and, more importantly, caught on someone’s camera. Roy tapped two fingers to his temple, saluting me, before turning to his team. I had to give him credit for his acting; from my seat, he almost looked like he was blushing.
“You see your man?” April’s voice was full of teasing as she resumed her seat and handed me a beer.
I rolled my eyes and took a sip before taking the hot dog she offered me. “My man,” I scoffed. “He’s not my man.”
April raised her eyebrows at me. “Not yet,” she hummed quietly. She nudged me. “You two’ve got chemistry. Even at a distance, there was some sort of spark or lightning strike or whatever you want to call it when you looked at each other.” She leaned in close to whisper, “You sure there’s not a real attraction there?”
“Do I need a new assistant?” I hissed, narrowing my eyes at her. She knew I didn’t mean it; it was my way of telling her she had succeeded in getting under my skin, one of her favorite pastimes.
Sure enough, she chuckled and nudged me playfully. “I’m just saying,” she teased. “Believe me, you could do a lot worse.”
I snorted and stole one more glance at the scowling and shouting Roy Kent. “Wanna bet?”
~
Roy tapped the side of his beer as he stared at the entrance to Ola’s. The team had decided to grab some dinner together after their match, and Dani had invited his friend to join them. The guys were tittering and shooting him what he assumed were supposed to be sly looks, which he repaid with scowls and eyerolls.
Those sly looks only got worse when the door opened and Dani led two women inside. Roy watched as the Greyhounds tripped over each other to re-introduce themselves and ask how the women liked the match. She was pretty fucking affable, Roy noted as she complimented Cockburn on his game-winning goal and laughed at whatever joke Moe Bumbercatch made. He found himself wondering how someone like her, someone who smiled so easily and seemed to have no problem charming a room full of people, could wind up with a reputation like hers, known only for the men she ran around with and the drama her “friends” dragged her into.
Her eyes lit up when she spotted Roy in his huddled little corner, almost bright enough to fool him into believing she was happy to see him. She grabbed the other woman- who Roy now recognized has her personal assistant- by the hand and pulled her away from the Greyhounds, not stopping until she stood in front of Roy, all flirtation with those batting eyelashes and that coy smile.
“Great job today, Coach,” she said with a wink.
Roy leaned back, keenly aware of the eyes that had followed her to his table. “Guess I was right about you being good luck,” he hummed with what he hoped was a flirtatious grin. “Glad you came today.”
“Me too.” She tugged the other woman closer to her. “This is my assistant, April,” she introduced, as if Roy hadn’t met the woman in Keeley’s office that very first day. “April,” she murmured, eyes still on Roy, “this is Roy Kent.”
April smiled and reached out to shake Roy’s hand. “Lovely to meet you.” Her smile turned mischievous. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
A small giggle had Roy’s ears turning red. “Stop,” the popstar whined, sounding like a teenage girl. “Go find a soccer player to flirt with, alright?” She gave April a playful shove before sliding into the seat beside Roy. Her smile remained in place as she leaned in close, looking like she was flirting and murmuring soft enough for just him to hear. “You see the photos of us online?”
Roy cleared his throat and nodded, unable to look directly at her and instead choosing to stare at his beer. “Yeah. Yeah, I saw them.” He took a sip, desperate for something to keep him distracted from how fucking close she was sitting. “Looks like the plan’s working so far.”
Her little hmmph confirmed that she agreed with him. After a moment, she nudged him; Roy’s shoulder practically burned at the contact. “You should probably, I don’t fucking know, talk to me or something?” She raised her eyebrows. “We’re supposed to be into each other, remember?”
With one of his heaving sighs, Roy forced his shoulders to relax as he finally met her gaze, a gaze that was far too attentive. “You… enjoy the game?”
Fucking hell. Was this what the next six months of his life would be like? Awkward small talk with someone who was just as disinterested in him as he was in her? Being two fish in a bowl with eyes on them all the time? Tonight, at Ola’s, it was the Greyhounds; soon it would be all of Nelson Road, and all their friends and acquaintances, and the fucking paparazzi, and all the people who’d be attending her highly anticipated European tour in the summer. Not to mention the very real possibility that one of them could find someone they were actually interested in (Roy had seen the way Jamie eyed her when she walked in), and then they’d be in a whole new mess of ending the “relationship” and dealing with blurry timelines and drama.
While Roy’s mind raced, she nodded, all at ease. “I did, actually, even though I don’t watch soccer very much.” After wrinkling her nose, she paused, eyeing him carefully, as if debating her next words. “Think I could take a picture with you?”
“I’m sorry?” Roy choked out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sudden request.
“A picture,” she repeated slowly, a smidge of impatience dripping from her voice. “Like a selfie. I might not like soccer, but my brothers and nephews are big fans.” She took out her phone and laid it on the table. “And I learned recently that you, Roy Kent, are a pretty big fucking deal. So, if I send them a picture with you, I’ll finally be the world’s coolest sister and tía.”
Roy couldn’t help the snort that flew out of his nose. “Being one of the biggest popstars in the fucking world isn’t enough?”
She cracked a small smile. “Nope. To my brothers, I’m still just the little princess who always cried to get what she wanted.” She picked her phone back up. “So, are we taking a selfie, or do I need to get the waterworks going?”
That was… well, that was kind of funny, Roy decided. Funny enough that he didn’t argue with her, at least. Instead, he shrugged and leaned in close, reminding himself that he was supposed to look like he was interested in this woman, after all. “Take the fucking picture then,” he grumbled, mostly good-naturedly.
Almost as if she understood that this was as friendly a response as Roy Kent could give, she opened her camera. Roy was amused at the image on the screen; she had a nice smile, he admitted to himself. It was the same one he saw on album covers, the same one she offered the Greyhounds, the same one she flashed the paparazzi. Just cheesy enough to be endearing, while still holding something glamorous. Looking at the image of that smile, Roy didn’t have much choice but to give his own closed grin, coming out cool and cocky-looking, the way one would expect a retired athlete to smile with a beautiful popstar.
She quickly snapped a couple of pictures before lowering her phone, chuckling as she sent one to what Roy assumed was a family group chat. “Thanks,” she murmured, giving Roy a nod. “Like I said, they’re finally almost impressed with me.”
The gears in Roy’s head turned for a moment. “Could you send me that?” he heard himself ask. When she tilted her head at him, he cleared his throat. “My niece, she’s… a fan. And if I show her that picture, she’s going to absolutely lose her shit.”
“Anything to make a kid lose their shit.” She quickly tapped away on her mobile; Roy’s own phone buzzed a moment later. “She your only niece?” When Roy only stared at her blankly, she shrugged. “Might as well learn some shit about each other, if we’re going to be dating.”
“Right,” Roy breathed, again noting how fucking close she was sitting. “Yeah, she’s my only niece. It’s just me, my sister, and her.” After a moment, he realized she was waiting for him to ask her a question. “And you’ve got… brothers?”
She nodded, relaxing into her seat, shoulder grazing Roy’s arm. “Four brothers and a sister,” she added. “I’ve got one younger brother, everyone else is older. And I’ve got…” She counted on her fingers for a moment. “Eight nieces and nephews. My oldest niece just turned fifteen this year. We’re having her quinceañera this summer.”
“That’s the big fucking party, right? I remember Dani going back to Mexico for his cousin’s birthday, it looked like a fucking wedding.”
Her raised eyebrows looked almost impressed. “Yeah. I’m pretty excited to go home for it.” She paused, thoughtfulness crossing her face. “We’ll probably still be together,” she murmured. Her eyes were unreadable.
“Keeley’ll probably make me go then,” Roy grumbled. “Fucking hate flying all the way to the States.”
“And we’ll have to go to all the way to Los Angeles,” she added with a dry chuckle. “Eleven hours stuck on a plane together, there and back. Can you imagine anything worse?”
Roy’s eyes flittered across the restaurant to Keeley, who sat cozily with Rebecca, giggling and chattering. His chest ached, reminding him that, if Keeley asked, he’d spend twenty-four hours on a plane with this woman, no hesitation. He’d do fucking anything for Keeley.
With a sigh, he shook his head. “No,” he agreed. “I fucking can’t.”
~
“Crown and Anchor,” I mumbled to myself as I read the sign over the pub Roy had suggested we meet at. Keeley has urged us to go ahead with our first “public outing”; she’d left it up to us, but suggested something low-key enough to look real, as if we weren’t trying to catch people’s attention. After I offered to let him pick the spot, Roy had texted me the address of some pub not too far from the stadium; apparently, he’d be coming straight from work.
Sure enough, when I found him at the bar, he was wearing what I assumed was his ‘coaching uniform’: Greyhounds shirt, track pants that hugged his thighs, and sneakers. He nodded when he saw me, hand wrapped around the beer he was already half finished with.
Ignoring the stares of a small group seated at a table behind Roy, I leaned into Roy, relieved that he immediately wrapped me in a one-armed hug- a casual, friendly gesture, perfect for two people just starting a romance. He took my arm to help me onto the stool beside him and gestured to the barkeep, an older woman who eyed me carefully.
“You’re-” She stopped, raising her eyebrows at Roy. “Good for you, Roy Kent.” She leaned on the counter, offering a friendly smile. “What can I get you, love?”
I eyed Roy’s half-finished drink. “I’ll have what he’s having.”
With a smile, the barkeep quickly poured me my own beer and placed it in front of me. Roy absently tapped his glass to mine with a small clink! before taking a long drink.
“Tough day of training?” I teased before sipping my own glass; shit, would I ever get used to drinking beer that wasn’t ice-cold?
He shrugged, eyes focused on the amber liquid in his glass. “Long is more like it,” he grumbled. “Especially now that the idiots are smirking and winking at me all the time, giving me looks like they fucking know something.” Roy narrowed his eyes at me, almost playfully. “It’s all your fault, you know.”
“My apologies,” I huffed, trying not to laugh at his stony expression. My eyes landed on the darts on one end of the bar; Roy’s gaze followed.
“Want to play?” he asked, chugging the last of his beer and motioning for the barkeep to pour him another one. “Keeley said shit like playing games looks cute in photos.”
The word cute did not seem like one that should be coming out of Roy Kent’s mouth, but I ignored how humorous it sounded. “I don’t know how to play,” I admitted. “We used to have a dart board when I was a kid, but after my brother got hit in the arm, my mom made my dad take it down.”
Roy stared at me for a moment, studying me. “I could teach you.” He shrugged. “If you like.”
I glanced at the dart board. “Why the fuck not?”
With a hmmph, Roy grabbed our beers and led me over to the game, setting our drinks on a nearby table before grabbing the darts. He handed me one, careful not to let our fingers brush. “Go on,” he said, nodding to the dart board. “Want to see what I’m fucking working with.”
I stared at the dart in my hand, wincing at the embarrassment I was about to endure and preparing myself for the expletives and mockery that would surely come out of Roy Kent’s mouth. Finally, trying to reach back over twenty years in my memory to the last time I had thrown a dart, I reached back and gave what I hoped was an acceptable toss; I groaned when I saw the dart bounce off the wall far from the target and fall pathetically to the ground.
Roy retrieved the dart wordlessly and returned, mouth in a straight line as he stared at me harshly. “You’re the one that fucking hit your brother, aren’t you?”
Setting my face as expressionless as his, I folded my arms. “No comment.”
A smirk almost broke through. “Your publicist has you well-trained,” he quipped as he handed me the dart. “Better show you how it’s done before you fucking kill someone.” His eyes zeroed in on the dart in my hand for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Here, stand like this.”
Roy stood next to me, motioning for me to adjust my feet. After I mirrored his stance, he turned to stand behind me, hesitating before taking my hand, the one I held the dart in. When I turned my face to his, he was gazing at me with raised eyebrows.
“This alright?” he whispered.
I nodded, holding back the urge to gulp. “Anything for the cameras,” I joked, forcing my body to relax against his. “Get ready to trend on Twitter, Kent.”
With a hmmph, Roy pressed his chest to my back, his body warm and weirdly comfortable, and lifted my hand. “And you pull back like this,” he breathed. “And…” He moved my arm in a swift motion. “… Release.”
The dart hit the board only about an inch away from the dead center.
“Holy shit!” I squeaked, pretending I didn’t see the young couple in the corner of the pub pointing their phones in our direction. “Roy!” I jumped into his arms, acting as though learning to throw a dart was some lifelong dream.
“What the fuck are you-”
“In the corner,” I hissed in his ear. “They’re recording us. Act cute.”
Grunting, Roy wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug that lifted me off my feet, keeping his hands on my hips once he set me down. “Think you could do it on your own now?” He furrowed his brows and lowered his voice. “Or should we do that again?”
I thought for a moment. “Probably one more time,” I said quietly. “For the camera.”
“For the camera,” Roy agreed, letting me go so he could grab another dart to hand to me. “Right, so stand like before…”
Once again, his chest felt warm pressed against me, his heartbeat thumping against my back. When he took my hand in his, I observed how large his hand looked around mine, realizing I’d be holding it a lot in the coming weeks. Just like before, Roy pulled my hand back and guided it, instructing me when to let go. This time, my dart landed dead center.
In spite of myself, I turned to Roy with a giant grin. “Fucking bullseye, Kent!”
He wore a crooked smirk and held up his hand for a high-five. “Not bad,” he hummed as I slapped his palm. “Ready to try it on your own?”
Playing darts with Roy Kent wasn’t the worst way to spend an evening, I conceded. We sipped beer and took turns throwing darts, with Roy giving me pointers now that I was throwing on my own; he even admitted that I was a quick learner. In between throws, we’d glance up at the television playing soccer highlights; Roy mumbled about the men running around on the screen, telling me a bit about the players he knew, the ones he tolerated and the ones he hated. I listened carefully, realizing that, if I was going to be “dating” a soccer legend, I should know a thing or two about the game. I should also try to start calling it “football”, I thought to myself.
“Alright,” I declared after posting a photo to my Instagram, per Keeley's instructions. “I’m going to the restroom, when I get back, we play to see who’s paying the tab.”
It was the closest thing I’d seen to a full smile all night. “You’re fucking on. And I’m ordering another pint, because you’re paying.”
I rolled my eyes playfully and waved as I headed towards the restrooms. Shit, I thought to myself. I’m actually enjoying myself.
As I washed my hands before returning to the bar, I tilted my head at my reflection. Tonight was kind of fun, I admitted. Maybe, just maybe, Roy Kent and I could actually be friends. Maybe these next few months of fake-dating didn’t have to be complete torture. Maybe we’d have a good time hanging out and spending time together. Maybe-
Despite all my grumblings about this plan, I grinned at Roy as I approached him at the dartboard, where he leaned against the wall and frowned at his phone. When he didn’t look up, I cleared my throat.
“Ready to lose?” I teased.
Finally, Roy looked up at me. “Hmm?” After a moment, he shook his head and downed the rest of his beer. “I should head home,” he grumbled, slamming his glass onto the table. “Got fucking training in the morning. Early morning training with fucking Tartt.”
I glanced at my watch. “It’s only sev-”
“I said I should head home,” he repeated, wrinkling his nose. “Already paid the tab.” Without another word, he placed his hand on my lower back and steered me out of the pub, pausing only to offer a half-hearted wave to the barkeep, who smiled warmly at us on our way out the door.
“What the fuck, Kent?” I hissed as we stood on the curb in front of a giant black car. “Did something happen? I thought-”
The man growled and fished a set of keys out of his pocket. “I’m fucking old,” he muttered. “I have a bedtime on worknights. Get used to it.” He nodded to the monstrous vehicle behind him. “D’you need a ride home?”
Resisting the urge to fold my arms across my chest defiantly, I shook my head. “I can walk,” I mumbled. “Or call a car if I get sick of walking.”
“Fine.”
It felt like hours as we stared at each other, Roy’s lips parted as if he were about to speak. Finally, I nodded curtly, trying to keep my own expression relaxed, as if the man hadn’t just done a complete 180 in the time it took me to use the restroom.
“I’m going to kiss your cheek,” I whispered as I took a tiny step towards him. “Since this was a date and all.”
“Fine,” he repeated, leaning towards me.
Just like at the club, my lips brushed against his warm cheek, his beard tickling my face. I flashed him my best smile, the one I usually saved for men I actually liked.
“Goodnight, Kent,” I managed, taking a step back.
He nodded brusquely, not quite meeting my eye. “Goodnight.”
With that, he climbed into his car and drove off, leaving me on the curb with a few questions and a long walk home.
~
Roy stared at his phone as he walked into the Dog Track, as if he thought that doing so would change the Tweet that had distracted him the night before. While waiting for his “date” to return from the loo, he’d scrolled aimlessly on the app, looking for anything interesting in football news. When he saw the post with two names he knew all too well, his stomach had dropped.
He and Jamie Tartt didn’t have any sort of agreement, per se. But they both seemed to respect each other’s feelings for Keeley ever since the night they showed up on her porch and were properly scolded. The three of them had formed a close friendship, one that seemed to center mostly around doting on Phoebe and avoiding any mentions of dating and romance. Sure, Roy knew that Keeley and Jamie hung out sometimes, just like Jamie knew Roy and Keeley did the same. But seeing it online, linked with the idea of the two getting back together, had Roy gritting his teeth as he entered the already chatty changing room.
Despite knowing this conversation was better suited for a pub with some beers than their place of work- where Roy was Jamie’s boss- Roy made his way over to Jamie, who looked up at the manager with something close to awkwardness on his pretty face.
“Mornin’, Coach,” Jamie hummed.
Roy had cancelled their training that morning; Jamie was smart enough to know why.
“You two back together?” Roy’s voice was low and even. It scared Jamie and the eavesdropping Greyounds more than any shouting and swearing would.
Jamie furrowed his brows and shook his head gingerly. “’Course not.” He nodded to Roy’s phone, its screen opened to a photo of the two exes sharing a dessert. “Just friends, Coach. She had some brand deal she thought I’d be interested in, I was hungry, so we grabbed a bite. I promise, I’d tell ya if anything was going to happen.” He paused, pouting a little. “Besides, you’ve moved on, haven’t ya? Saw some photos of you two playing darts and shit.”
Oh. Fuck. Roy shrugged, praying his face was relaxed. “We’re friends,” he mumbled. “Fucking getting to know each other. That’s all.”
“In that case-” Jamie’s bravado returned, reminding Roy of the arrogant prick he’d met when Jamie first came to Richmond. His eyes were bright with teasing, and he did that stupid tongue flick that made Roy want to puke. “Put in a good word for me, yeah?”
Roy couldn’t help scoffing, telling himself it had everything to do with Jamie and nothing to do with the topic at hand. “Why the fuck d’you think she’d be interested in you?”
Tartt’s smirk widened as he winked at his obviously spying teammates. “She said it herself, didn’t she? That boyish look that I like in a man?” He gestured at his own face. “Beautiful and boyish, right here.”
Before Roy could even think, he bared his teeth at the striker, not aware of the way his fists were clenched at his sides. “Maybe she’s done with boys,” he all but spat. “Maybe she wants a real man.”
Jamie threw his hands up in surrender, eyes widening as he took in Roy’s reddening face. “Oi, Coach,” he chuckled, clearly trying to ease the tension. “I was just teasing. If you like the girl, just say so. You don’t have to go all caveman on me.”
All eyes in the changing room were on Roy, who took a step back; he hadn’t realized he was practically nose to nose with Tartt. He gave a little nod, not quite meeting the striker’s eye. “Right,” was all he could manage.
Satisfied that he had escaped another love triangle, Jamie gave Roy’s arm a friendly punch. “Now, next time you see her, could you ask about that assistant of hers? What was her name? May? April? She was fucking fit.”
Roy blinked at Jamie, barely registering what he’d just said. Instead, he sulked into his office, wondering where the fuck that little snap had come from. Probably still thinking about Jamie’s dinner with Keeley, he reasoned. That must be it. It had everything to do with Keeley and nothing to do with Jamie- or anyone else, for that matter.
Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances@respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog@hotleaf-juice@emmy2811@captainorbust-blog@preciousbabypeter@shion-ah@royalestrellas @eugene-emt-roe @littleesilvia @teenwolf01 @sisinever @yagotgames @queen-of-the-downtown-scene
#roy kent i'll write your name#roy kent iwyn#he's here he's there he's every fucking where#roy kent#roy kent x reader#roy kent fanfic#roy kent fic#roy kent fanfiction#roy kent imagine#ted lasso fanfiction
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help this post has infected my brain i can't stop thinking about some journalist ex-colleague of trent's just watching the entirety of richmond's football team + several members of the staff (including ted lasso) scoop him up and sprint across the pitch holding him aloft. this has so much comedic potential. im just picturing so many different like. tableaus. jan maas giving an absolutely stoic trent crimm a piggyback ride. exact same position but it's jamie tartt and trent crimm appears to be pointing directly ahead as tartt cackles and charges. they topple over. dani rojas has elected to carry him bridal style for some reason. sam obinsanya, who was supposed to be one of the reasonable ones, follows his example. one of the players has trent fully sitting on his shoulders somehow and somehow they don't fall. both the participating coaches (ted and beard) simply throw him over their shoulder and book it. for one of them he appears to be laughing loudly for the other his arms are crossed and he is making such a pointed expression of grumpy tolerance (like a cat who has been picked up and is resigned to it but he's not gonna like it!) that it is clearly exaggerated. trent makes exactly one (1) attempt to carry someone else (it's roy) and he actually does fairly well considering but they do end up sprawled on the grass and just. roy flat on his back staring at the sky, trent having half pushed himself up on his elbows, hair a complete mess, laughing. they're all arguing about times. there are fans sitting in on practice who can Just See All This. like. you know how there's like bullshit nothing articles about dumb shit? just. some "article" that's like "richmond appear to be doing wife-carrying races as training for some reason, and even more bafflingly, trent crimm appears to be the wife in question. anyway here's our top twenty photos of this because it is funny and weirdly wholesome." and then it's all over twitter for like three days. trent's ex-wife is texting him like "babe why are you a meme now". keeleys like "good news this is great pr! bad news [sends trent a candid shot of ted scooping him up unexpectedly and trent very obviously blushing]" and trents like "ah." some of the photos are hilariously blurred in motion. they're pretty much all smiling. forget about the realistic "but would they get criticism for not taking practice seriously" shhhh. everyone is enjoying this. it's about the wholesome nature of the whole team playing around and genuinely having fun together and also trent is too. formerly feared respected scary journalist cackling like a little kid while balanced precariously on the shoulders of a premiere league footballer. it's cute. it's also extremely funny. how did anyone find this dork scary
#im going in circles and not articulating this as well as i'd like but i'm picturing it so vividly and spinning spinning spinning it#it's so funny and wholesome to me#he's FRIENDS WITH THEM ALL!!!!#and also just the hysterical image of former colleagues/people who know trent by reputation just seeing this#utterly ridiculous and wholesome photos of someone who is clearly genuinely having fun#although im also not really diving into the implications of photos here.#i guess rather than a journalist it could be like#keeley taking photos for The Nelson Road Group Chat that def exists nad then being like 'these are really wholesome and funny actually#and also probably good pr we should post them' and getting permission?#SHH BRAIN STOP OVERTHINKING THIS#LET ME ENJOY SILLY THE ENTIRE TEAM CARRIES TRENT AROUND FOR SOME REASON POST#<- please that makes it sound like they're just treating him like a little purse dog.#not even the wife carrying races just.#picks him up. walks away#dlfkjlhkjfgh
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In Far Cry 6, one of the first things Dani Rojas does is help light up their friend Alejo's cigarette. They do this again in the first act of the game for Camila "La Espada" Montero. Both times Dani silently helps light the cigarette but of their own accord.
The Hays Code, a set of guidelines and rules enforced in Hollywood in the 1930s, was created to prevent depictions of sexual perversion, violence and other immoral acts on movies. One of the rules enforced disallowed kissing for more than 3 seconds, and any shot of a man and woman in bed together. While some directors manage to work around it cleverly by breaking the kisses, others find that letting two characters smoke together or simply lighting each other's cigarette was enough to insinuate that the characters were sexually involved with each other. Characters can touch each other lightly during lighting a cigarette, they lean in, it involves lips and tongue, it could even look phallic, the sky was the limit at making a cigarette feel sexually charged. The implication stuck even to this day.
We can then conclude that Dani Rojas lighting a friend's cigarette, one being a man and one being a woman as at MOST an indication they are bisexual and at LEAST a direct shot at them being a people pleaser. In this essay, I will--
#dani rojas#far cry 6#far cry#'nobody cares about the hays code anymore' I DO!#I FUCKING DO! I THINK IT'S HOT WHEN CHARACTERS DO THINGS THAT MEAN OTHER THINGS!#LET ME OVERANALYZE WHY A CHARACTER STIR THEIR TEA COUNTER CLOCKWISE AND SHIT!#far cry analysis
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Taking a bullet
Pairing: Dani Rojas x Fem reader
Description: While you and Dani escape from Castillo's prison, you put yourself on the line to protect her
Warning: Minor swearing in Spanish
Dani feels relieved to see you despite the nonstop adrenaline that flows through her as the two of you shoot your way through many officers and guards of his force. You turned after opening the door outside only to see a guard aimed at dani leading to you yelling and jumping in front of her getting shot and the bullet hitting your upper chest making dani catch you and shooting the guard before putting you over her shoulders and running to the car to get you back to Juan so he could help you, finding out when she called him that he was at the Montero farm leading to a panicked quick drive to the farm where she carries you yelling at you as she hands you to juan "Wake the fuck up please mija" juan along with Carlos and Espada manage to help you before Matias Alonso arrived removing the bullet and monitoring you with dani by your side feeling on edge as she holds your hand tightly yelling in frustration and fear at one of your shared friends who tried to pull dani for a break even just to eat and sleep for an hour or two with someone else with you incase you did wake up while she was asleep but no matter how many times each person tried she was still right next to you as you slept from the anesthesia and the effects of the pain med matias given you after you briefly woke up quietly crying in pain. You groan lightly when you wake up feeling a hand on your shoulder as you try to lean up thinking you were back in castillo's jail only to see dani next to you along with Chorizo next to you licking your arm as juan walks in "Hey chica you're awake!" dani gently hugs you as she slowly leans you back to lay down noticing the bandage across your chest "What happened?" you wince as a small amount of pain courses through you "You got shot by one of the conyo's officers and it hit your chest so after I brought you here Juan and Carlos managed to keep you from bleeding out until matias got here and removed the bullet thankfully it missed your arties and lung but it was still bad" she sighs feeling her throat swell with emotions "You scared the shit out of me when i saw you get shot...I thought i watched you die" you tear up feeling bad that you made her feel like that but you wouldn't change your decision for protecting her falling back asleep after you apologize for scaring her.
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Random Headcanon for every named member of AFC Richmond.
GO!!
OKAY LETS DO THIS
Alexander - retired after season 1
Anders Rosenfeldt - Sasha Kukoč's best friend
Arlo Dixon - body image issues
Bekoe - transferred after s1
Bhargava - has no plans to ever leave the uk
Bockronde - also retired after s1
Colin Hughes - has like 800 Spotify playlists but they all have the same 10 songs in them and sound exactly the same to everyone but him
Dani Rojas - cooking for his girlfriends is his love language
Declan Cockburn - believes he's more fashionable than Isaac
Gareth Canterbury - plans on becoming a gaffer when he retires
Garron - left Richmond bc of an injury
Garvey- hated getting confused with Garron
Isaac Mcadoo - loves reading but doesn't read much fiction
Jack Dawkins - loves trick shots
Jamie Tartt - sleeps with a night light
Jan Maas - cuts his own hair, much to Isaac's anger
Jeff Goodman - Arlo Dixons best friend
Kyle McCracken - has had every STI "except the big one"
Martin De Maat - was starting goal before Tom took over and then Thierry and left Richmond to go to a club that would start him
Moe Bumbercatch - has so many math/puzzle games on his phone
Paul Reynolds - won't let anyone on the team babysit his daughter
Richard Montlaur - matches his socks to his outfits
Robbie Roberts - so so many hobbies
Roy Kent - is in a book club
Sagredoe - color blind
Sam Obisanya - doesn't drink much alcohol
Sasha Kukoč - did not learn how to style his own hair until he was in his 20s
Snape - hates Harry Potter references
Thierry Zoreaux - for a Canadian, gets cold often
Tom O'Brien - has been caught having sex at the dog track
Tommy Winchester - loves meditating and got so excited when the team started meditation with Zava
Tyler Shannon - got in trouble for bringing his phone onto the bench during a match
Ugo Babatunde - Kyle McCracken reluctant best friend
Zava - uses a lot of buzzwords he doesn't know the definition of
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Why I Hated the Ted Lasso Finale
THERE WILL BE SPOILERS
The word I'm going to use a lot in this post is 'unearned'. After a solid couple of seasons, the writer's room lost their way through the second half of this last season, and the ending was an absolute travesty. I'm going to explain why each character arc failed, and then give a couple general thoughts.
Nathan. Actually, this is the only arc that I thought earned out its contract. Nathan and Jade's relationship wasn't...good, but I think that's the fault of the chemistry between the actors being off, and not because of the writing. The only character arc I actually was left comfortable with.
Trent. Just kidding! Trent's character arc was perfection and I loved every minute.
Colin. Okay, I think adding Colin being gay as a storyline was a good idea, but they just went one step too fucking far. And I'm saying this as someone who regularly watches BL shows where homophobia doesn't exist and/or all kinds of unrealistic things happen with gay men. THAT SAID, you can't just suddenly have Colin on the pitch kissing his man, after the discussion with Trent. I'm sorry! It was unearned. His boyfie coming to the game? Earned.
Dani. Are you. fucking. kidding me. with that last bit? There was no moment in the show that would lead you to believe Dani Rojas should be in a throuple. Just blatant laugh pandering.
Beard. Did the writers forget that Jane was HORRIBLE to Beard for 2 seasons? And then she just wasn't in season 3 very much. I am fine with Beard staying in England, but I don't like it.
Rebecca. Holy shit. No. Just no. FWIW, I am not a TedRebecca shipper, but also no to the Dutch man. UNEARNED. The moments with Rupert, with her mother, with Keeley, with Leslie...that all felt true to the character. It felt true to the arc of the show. But the Dutch man and his daughter? No. Sorry, no. The show just did a beautiful thing where Rebecca realized you don't have to be a mother to be nurturing and to create a family, and just fucking BURNED that lesson to the ground with the Dutch man and his kid. Way to ruin a super tight feminist arc.
Ted. I am super irritated by his mother's appearance in the show, and by her being the one to tell him to go home to his kid. It wasn't right. UNEARNED. I don't think Ted going home was the wrong thing, but could you at least resolve the motherfucking story of his marriage and Dr. Jacob? PLEASE. For the love of god. Resolve something. (More on this later.)
Sam. No. Fuck the writers for this.
Jamie. That stupid shot of him reuniting with his dad was unearned. Sorry. He should have been celebrating with his weird mom. (By the way, what the fuck was that.) Also, while I loved his friendship with Roy, I just don't even know how to express my contempt for the writers re-kindling Jamie + Keeley. And that comment at the bar that Jamie made to get Roy riled up was fucking...are you kidding? You just had Jamie go through an enormous arc of growth, where he apologizes to her for it, and then he USES IT like that? No. Hated it.
Keeley. Okay, she's a success and Babs (Barbara) is her friend. But the Jack storyline was fucking SHOEHORNED IN and I think I know why except then. Then. They just.
Roy. Oh god.
Here's the thing: this show left almost every single character arc unresolved. And that's not bravery for a show like this; it's not artistry. It's actually quite the opposite. This show is the television equivalent of genre fiction. You can't set up a television show as a piece of genre fiction and then end it like literary fiction. You betray your audience when you do that. Genre fiction ends. There are endings. There is resolution. Suddenly deciding that you've backed yourself into a corner with a love triangle (or two) and you don't know how to fix it doesn't absolve you from having to figure out the end. You have to resolve the stories.
The show also became too self-aware. All the little nods to the Rebecca-Ted shippers outside the show were cloying. Also, all the stupid fake-outs with Rebecca's being pregnant were just ridiculous. Absolutely fucked with the tone of the show.
Anyway. This shit absolutely killed the show for me, and I'll never rewatch, and I probably won't even recommend it to people. They just biffed this so hard.
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through the lens
pairing: jamie tartt x reader
summary: a richmond win, a trip to ola’s, and a camera is all it takes to find out how jamie tartt really feels about you
warnings: swearing ofc, reader is afc richmond's team photographer, 2.5k
a/n: humbly inviting begging anyone and everyone to drop ted lasso requests from this list or this one in my inbox <3 i write for jamie, roy, sam, dani, and isaac! now pls enjoy the result of my jamie tartt brainrot
The atmosphere in the locker room was positively electric.
AFC Richmond was fresh off their first win in a very long time, and everyone was beyond ecstatic, buzzing with residual adrenaline and pride on a game well played. All the players were in a huddle in the center of the room, jumping at each other with nothing but pure joy in their eyes.
All you could do was try your best to capture the moment without getting in the way of the festivities, which you somehow managed by climbing up onto one of the benches in front of the lockers as you snapped picture after picture of the team getting their celebration on. Nobody really paid you any mind throughout, until you turned your camera on one Jamie Tartt, who was already looking right at you the second your viewfinder focused on him.
He beamed, lifted his hand up in a small wave, and for a split second you thought he might’ve started to make his way over to you, but he was caught on the shoulder and redirected by an overjoyed Dani Rojas. You swiveled away from Jamie and towards where Colin and Isaac had started some sort of chant that you could barely make out over the ruckus.
Focusing on them gave you the chance to let your heart rate settle back down after sharing that split second moment with Jamie. It was pathetic, really—pining over someone like him.
More of a silly little crush than anything, you knew it would never lead to anything because you’d rather a sinkhole open up in the middle of the road and swallow you up than tell Jamie that you liked him. But that didn’t stop your feelings for him from growing. He’d come back to AFC Richmond someone different—sweet and empathetic and the biggest supporter of his fellow Greyhounds—which made it that much harder to keep your crush under wraps.
Hell, Keeley had figured it out within weeks of his return and accidentally let it slip to Roy. He’d very gruffly assured you that he hadn’t told a soul, but you were sure that the whole team knew about it by now. Everyone except Jamie. You’d never been so glad for his thick head.
“Alright, I know y’all are excited about the win, I am too but listen up!” Coach Lasso’s voice cut through the commotion, hands waving over his head to get his players’ attention. At the drop of a hat, every single one of them fell quiet, eagerly awaiting what their beloved coach had to say.
You were looking forward to it too, not only because a Lasso signature speech was always a great opportunity to get raw, unfiltered photos of the team, but because he always had something positive to say, no matter what the outcome on the pitch had been. The amount of love and care Ted Lasso had for his players was his strong suit, and it showed in everyone’s respect for him.
“I’m real proud of what all y’all did out there on the pitch tonight. I know I say that after every match and I mean it every time, but this one is just a little bit sweeter. I appreciate every single one of you boys more than you could imagine,” He continued, looking to address each person. They looked like kids again, giddy with glee as they soaked in their coach’s praise.
You took shot after shot of everyone in the moment, so enveloped in your craft that you didn’t notice someone had come to stand beside you until you let your camera hang. That was when you noticed Jamie, inching closer with an innocent look on his face until he saw you looking down at him.
“Hiya,” He said, playfully nudging your leg with a cheeky smile. “Gettin’ a good view up there?”
“Shouldn’t you be listening to your coach?” You shot back, fighting the urge to pick your camera back up and take a shot of his lopsided grin and stupidly endearing twinkle in his eye as he looked up at you.
“Nothin’ I haven’t heard before.” Jamie shrugged, but he turned back around to look at Ted.
Even though he wasn’t paying attention to you, it was hard not to pay attention to him. That was a problem you’d increasingly been running into, not being able to focus when Jamie was around. You thought you’d had it under wraps, but it seemed like you’d developed a sixth sense for whenever he wandered into your vicinity. And lately, that sense had been pinging a lot more than usual.
Maybe you were reading too much into things, but it seemed like Jamie had been popping up everywhere you went in the facility. Granted, it was mainly the pitch and the locker room hallways, but it flustered you all the same. One brief conversation about even something mundane like weekend plans or the weather paired with a smile and a cheeky wink before he disappeared around a corner and you were left wondering what you’d been doing in the first place.
Ted was closing out his speech by the time you’d remembered you were actually supposed to be doing your job right now. You jerked out of your thoughts, snapping a few photos of the coaching staff before he finished up for the night. “Now go ahead and let loose, golden goose!”
“I’m pretty sure it is geese, Coach,” Sam chimed in, giving him a good natured smile.
“You know what I mean! Go have some fun, celebrate, all that jazz. But not too much fun because I expect to be seein’ y’all bright and early tomorrow morning for practice. Remember, the early bird gets the worm! See, I know I did that one right.” With that, Ted waved the team off, retreating back into the coaches’ office with Coach Beard on his heels and leaving them with all their pent up energy.
“Sam says we’re all going to Ola’s to celebrate!” Bumbercatch exclaimed, drawing a roar of approval from the rest of the team.
“You comin’ with us?” Jamie asked you hopefully, tilting his head to the side a bit. Warmth bloomed on your cheeks at the prospect of him wanting you to tag along. “Catch the festivities, give the people what they want?”
Oh. He was asking because you were their photographer. Not for the other foolishly hopeful reason you were thinking of. Of course.
“Yeah, I’ll tag along. Gotta catch you boys in your natural habitat, don’t I?”
Jamie’s mouth lifted into a cool smirk. “‘Course you do. You can catch a ride with me, if you want.”
“Oh! Um, only if it’s not too much trouble.” You could only hope you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt.
He nodded, extending a hand up towards you to help you down from your perch. You accepted it maybe a bit too eagerly, because your step down from the bench put you a little closer to Jamie than you’d planned, barely a few inches between the two of you. You swore you almost stopped breathing when his chest brushed against yours as he inhaled a sharp breath. You forced yourself to meet his gaze, and it almost looked like he was as stunned as you.
You both mumbled an apology, words tumbling over each other messily as you stepped apart. His hand flew up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. Yours went straight for your camera, busying yourself with a few random buttons as if it were a defense mechanism. Neither of you could look at the other for a good while, not until you got into Jamie’s car and were on the way to Ola’s to meet the rest of the team.
“So. What’d you think of the game?”
“S’good! You did great, Jamie,” You exclaimed, excited now. It was true, Jamie had been on fire tonight with a goal and two assists. “All of you did great.”
“Should I pose for ya next time? Give ya a proper action shot?“ He sounded only half joking. “M’trusting you to make me look good, y’know!”
“Posing is overrated. I like the shots I get when you lot get out there on the pitch. They’re natural.”
“But what if I make a stupid face when I pass the ball? Those can’t be any good.”
“They’re called candids, and I happen to think they look better than your promotional shots.”
“Bullshit! I looked sexy in those shots and you know it.”
While he wasn’t wrong, you had a point to prove now. Taking a deep breath, you counted to three in your head before picking your camera back up, swiveling in your seat and snapping one, two, three pictures of him.
Jamie’s brow furrowed at the shutter clicks, giving you a confused glance over in your direction. “Oi! What’s that for?”
“That’s a candid.” You said simply, ignoring your heart pounding a million miles a minute against your ribcage. You flicked through the photos, pleased to see that they’d come out just as you suspected—perfect.
“Not even getting my good angle, some photographer you are,” He muttered, giving his head an overexaggerated shake.
“All your angles are good, Jamie,” You scoffed. “And you don’t need me to make you look good, ‘cause you’re doing it just fine on your own.” You didn’t realize what you’d said until a beat later when he looked extremely delighted, but every part of what you said was true.
Even caught off guard and driving, Jamie Tartt looked unfairly good. The lights off the dashboard washed over his handsome face in a warm light, making him look softer than the harsh lights of Nelson Road did.
On the football pitch, he was tough and cocky, mouthing off to opposing team with the sole purpose of getting under their skin, and the lighting reflected that. He was Jamie Tartt, a striker with a right foot kissed by God, one of the greatest footballers in Richmond history. In this car, here with just the two of you, he was at ease. His guard was down, his facade gone. He was just Jamie Tartt, a boy from Manchester. That was the Jamie you’d grown some not-so-small feelings for.
Ola’s was definitely quieter than any pub in Richmond would’ve been, though you suspected that the team rather enjoyed it this way. They loved and appreciated their fans, but it was nice to be surrounded by friends as opposed to being gawked at the whole night. Even so, someone had turned on music with a heavy beat that thumped through the restaurant and everyone was having a good time.
It was the perfect opportunity to grab a few more quick shots of the team and you took it gratefully, milling around the place for a bit snapping pictures here and there before coming back to your seat to flick through everything. You had to see what you could give the PR team to put on Richmond’s socials.
A pint of beer slid in front of you drew you away from your camera, but it was mostly the smiling Jamie who’d slid into the chair next to you. He leaned in a little closer to be heard over the chatter of the restaurant, bracing his arm on the back of your chair.
“D’you ever stop working?”
“Meaning?”
“Nothin’ bad! I just mean…every time I see ya you’re nose deep in that camera, barely get t’see your face.”
“The point of my job is to see your face, not mine,” You joked, growing more nervous at the way he was looking at you, like he meant he actually wanted to see your face more instead. Jamie’s expression softened into something fond, knee bumping against yours gently, fingers brushing against your shoulder. His touch sent a feeling not unlike static shock through you, racing through your veins and sending your heart thundering loudly in your ears.
You were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you and leaning closer still, so close you could see a smudge of dirt from the pitch on his neck that he’d missed, the flecks of gray in his blue eyes.
“S’shame. Got a face too pretty to be behind the lens all the time. Prettier than mine, even.”
“Stop it,” You mumbled, but there was no real force behind your words. Jamie thought you were pretty. It made you feel giddy inside.
“No, you stop it. You’re stunnin’.” He insisted, looking entirely sincere.
“You’re just saying that.”
“M’not. I mean it.” Jamie shook his head vehemently. You pressed your lips together, denying it still. “You don’t believe me. Here,” He was quick to grab your camera off the table carefully, leaning back a bit and hitting the shutter button determinedly. You’d barely managed to stretch an arm over your face before the flash went off. He squinted at the tiny screen, studying it for a few seconds before smiling proudly.
“Think I finally know what’s so good about those candids you keep talkin’ about. That one’s a keeper.” He was firm in his words, turning the camera around to show you the picture he’d taken. Part of your face was obscured by your outstretched hand, but you could see most of your smile and a gleam in your eyes that you didn’t know you had until this very moment. You liked it.
“D’you wanna go on a date with me sometime?” He asked hopefully, fiddling with the edges of his shirtsleeves. Warmth flooded your cheeks in an instant. “A proper one, where I can come by yours and ring your doorbell and give you flowers and all that shit.”
“Someone give Lust Conquers All a ring, ‘cause Jamie Tartt is a changed man!” You shouldn’t have been cracking jokes right now. It definitely wasn’t the time, but you couldn’t help yourself. It escaped before you could take it back.
But Jamie just rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, alright, have a laugh. You didn’t say yes.”
“I also didn’t say no.” You pointed out, scooting a few inches closer to him. He returned the gesture, sliding towards you until your knees pressed together. You were inches away from each other, again, but this time it was different. This time, you knew how he felt about you.
“That’s still not a yes.” He said softly, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard it had you not been as close to him as you were right now.
You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and his eyes fluttered shut. “How’s that for a yes?”
“S’good. Missed the mark though. Should be more like…” He trailed off, sneaking a quick peck to your lips before grinning sheepishly. “That.”
“Sneaky boy.” You rolled your eyes, but your tone was anything but annoyed. “Good thing you’re cute.”
He preened at your compliment, giving a little self satisfied smile. “And a good photographer?”
“Decent. If football doesn’t pan out, maybe I could make you my assistant.”
“That mean I get to spend all day with you?”
“If you can handle it.”
Jamie’s lips quirked up into a soft smile and he kissed you again, a little longer this time. His hand moved up your shoulder around the back of your neck tenderly, a blooming warmth against your skin. “I’ll manage.”
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#someone tell me to go to bed#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt fic#jamie tartt x fem!reader#jamie tartt fluff#jamie tartt one shot#jamie tartt imagine
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«────── « HEADCANON » ──────»
Inspired by Vendetta, and my slow returning fixations on Far Cry and Cyberpunk, here is a brief overview of what the Far Cry muses do within the Cyberpunk universe.
Ajay Ghale: Born to Ishwari and Mohan Ghale, the founder of the Golden Path. When he was only three-years-old, Ajay’s mother fled with him to Night City and would reveal nothing to him of Kyrat, his father, or why she left. Ajay led a conflicted childhood and grew up causing plenty of trouble for himself and his mother. He eventually fell in with the wrong crowd and, during his teens, became caught up in a robbery gone wrong that resulted in a store clerk being shot to death. While Ajay was not directly responsible for the shooting, he turned himself in and bartered a deal with police — in exchange for no prison time, he provided the name of the person who pulled the trigger. As Ajay was turning his life around, he learnt that his mother was dying. The last lucid conversation they had was about Kyrat. Yet before Ajay could prepare to travel back home, he was reached out to by Pagan Min. He offered his condolensces regarding Ishwari’s death, remaining vague about how it was he knew the woman and of her death. Instead, he simply offered Ajay one thing: Work with him, and he would reveal all he knew about Ishwari and their past.
Bambi “Buck” Hughes: Formerly a member of the Australian military, Buck found himself turning to the solo lifestyle. Some days he was a hired merc. Others he was a stone-cold assassin. His reputation precedes him, as many of his contracts have accompanying XBDs to go with them… if you pay the right price. Buck’s brutality and efficiency caught the eyes of Hoyt Volker, who permanently contracted him as the manager of his more sinister operations. His task? Break in the merchandise.
Bembé Alvarez: An immigrant from Yara, Bembé found himself quite at home within Night City’s bustling streets. He took up most gigs slid his way without complaint, earning quite the reputation among Night City’s criminal underbelly as “efficient” and “thorough”. Sure, it only took a hell of a lot of manipulation on his part, but that was just the way things worked. He never lied to folk, just never quite told them the whole truth about the brevity of circumstance. Soon enough, Bembé became a Fixer, establishing a lengthy network across the city and across the border.
Charlemagne “Sharky” Victor Boshaw IV: Surprisingly, Sharky had quite the normal upbringing in Night City. Born to a family who didn’t quite want him, he did his best to scrape by with what he was handed. Unfortunately for everyone else, he made it their problem. Sharky built quite the reputation among the NCPD as a serial arsonist and pyromaniac, having set fire to numerous properties (some purposeful, some accidental) with his shenanigans. Eventually, this resulted in him gaining an outstanding warrant for his arrest that resulted in him ‘taking a vacation’ to The Badlands. He fell in line with a few different Nomad groups, never sticking around long and breaking things off amicably. If only the same could be said for his high school sweetheart. Sharky travels across the desert taking up any sort of gigs he can get his hands on, often favoring those handed down by Dakota.
Dani Rojas: Born and raised in Yara’s capital city, Dani was a firsthand witness to the tensions between the government and the country’s citizens. The conflict reached a point where upon reaching adulthood, there was no choice but to enlist with Yara’s military, the Fuerzas Nacionales de Defensa (FND), as such was required for all Yaran citizens. Not long after boot camp, Dani dropped out from service and found a way to flee the country, landing in Night City. Hoping it would be a safe haven, Dani, Lita, and Alejo attempted to start anew, only for the dream to crumble when the Unification War broke out. With Lita and Alejo caught in the crossfire, Dani went into hiding until the peace treaty was signed. It was around this time that he learned of Castillo’s role within BioTechnica, and realized that if he wanted to avenge his friends, he would have to go to the source of it all.
Gilberto Rosario (Rosa Mel Paquete): Gilberto grew up in a poor family alongside his parents on the outskirts of Night City, often not having much in regard to basic necessities. Both of his parents took on odd jobs for any sort of pay, and Gilberto tried to help where he could. He would help local farmers tend to their fields and transport animals. He would help the local doctors with cleaning their offices after cases with severe traumatic injuries. Anything he could do, he would do. However, in this time, Gilberto realized he had a passion for music. It began when he helped up-and-coming bands set up and take down equipment wherever they played, and has since developed into a form of flourishing self expression to deal with the stress of his family and lifestyle. Gilberto allied himself with the Moxes even before their formal formation, finding solace alongside the group. After the death of Elizabeth “Lizzie” Borden, Gilberto rallied under the Moxes banner and used his status as a drag performer to pass along intel from other gangs and corporations. Something of a spymaster, Gilberto has his eyes set on tearing down Night City one corrupt bastard at a time.
Hoyt Volker: Formerly aligned with a vast South African corporation (comparable to the likes of Militech in size, not function) due to his father’s position among the corporation’s executives, Hoyt has taken control of the remaining land along Morro Bay and its State Park, dubbing it the grounds of the Privateers. The Privateers are a gang consisting largely of former military professionals, including many from the likes of Militech after controversies of massacring innocent civilians came to light. His primary operations remain fairly the same: Drugs, Human Trafficking, and Weapons.
Jacob Seed: Troubled from the start, the eldest Seed brother served his fair share of time among Militech’s ranks. He was a key fighter in the Unification War, tossed around while drowning in a cocktail of chems to keep him awake and going at a moment’s notice. Jacob stood on the brink of cyberpsychosis numerous times, just pulled back by the crushing weight of reality. But this weight grew lighter and lighter. Lighter until he snapped and, in what he claims to be a moment of survival, desecrated the remains of his brother-in-arms to live another day. After his discharge from Militech, he became a ghost. A specter wandering Night City’s slums until his brothers found him and brought him back to life. He joined them in leaving the city for good, and makes sure to put his combat expertise to use in The Badlands.
Jason Brody: An aspiring techie from Watson, Jason found himself way in over his head. Living in the lap of luxury that he could not afford. His debts quickly caught up to him, and it resulted in his kidnapping and the tragic loss of both brothers. Grant was executed by the cyberpsycho Vaas, dragged out past the city walls in a grand display of authority. Riley was taken without a trace, imprisoned somewhere deep within the Pirates’ territory, where rumors are Jason’s only lead to finding him.
Deputy Joey Hudson: Returning to the force after a tragic run-in with a cyberpsycho, Joey Hudson works within NCPD’s ranks as a dedicated lieutenant. Her specialties place her on the outskirts of MaxTac’s jurisdiction, a point of connection for the psdueo-military sector and those tucked away in the pockets of the rich. While she has her qualms with the purchasability of NCPD’s higher officers, she voices no complaints, long as she makes it home at the end of the day.
John Seed: Once a bright-eyed boy, tragedy would separate John from his elder brothers and land him in the hands of the Duncans. His time with them was defined by punishment. By reverance for rejecting the “corporate standard”. Yet, John studied law. He flourished when he finally left their home, burying himself in the harsh neon glow of Corpo Plaza. Losing himself in the world of cybernetics and sex. It was on the streets where he found Joseph once again, and on those very streets that he turned his nose to the world that hoisted him up. With some convincing, he left behind the city of sin and aided Joseph in establishing Eden’s Gate.
Joseph Seed: Hailing from quaint suburbs which became targets during the Unification War, Joseph and his siblings traveled west to avoid the growing plague that was the corporate takeover. Town after town fell to the atrocities of NUSA’s top corps, and life had a funny way of pulling the family apart one by one. Joseph once wandered Night City’s streets as a preacher, warning citizens of the horrors of transhumanism and the corporate greed that blinded everybody to them. His beliefs would become the foundation for Eden’s Gate, a cult of followers dedicated in their aversion to cybernetics. Eventually, through trial by fire, the Seed brothers reunited and established their compound in The Badlands.
Juan Cortez: What began as a simple tale grew into something much bigger than expected. Born in Yara, Juan had a difficult upbringing with the growing political tensions the nation faced. Many locals in his neighborhood took up arms with guerrilla forces, and others stood by the side of the Yaran government and the Castillo family. Things reached a boiling point when a group of revolutionaries led by Santos Espinosa lead an intense revolution against the Yaran government, ultimately resulting in the death of President Gabriel Castillo. Only 10 at the time, Juan’s parents realized that their best bet would be to flee before things got worse. The Cortez family packed their things and vanished into the night, eventually stumbling onto the sandy shores of Miami, Florida. Juan did what he could to aid his family, and ultimately found himself working for the NUSA’s Central Intelligence office. He served as an eye on the inside during the Corporate War, embedded into enemy lines to relay information to the government. His efforts weren’t entirely as straightforward, as the information exchange often flowed both ways. When the war ended, Juan realized that the man who toppled his home country was a frequent flyer to Night City, and thus began Juan’s independent operation into taking down Antón while he had the chance.
María Marquessa: Right hand to the newfound CEO of BioTechnica, María lends her aid as the corporation’s head of marketing (and propaganda, though she won’t go on record to call it such). María handles the corporation’s public relations, and assures the citizens of Night City that nothing can go wrong, so long as they place their trust in Castillo’s leadership. Behind the scenes, there’s another side to María. A vulnerable side hidden away from public eyes, where she dotes their son and attempts to stroke the simmering flames between herself and Antón.
Nicholas “Nick” Rye: Hailing from a long lineage of servicemen, Nick fell out of contact with his family when he refused to serve in the Unification War. Instead, he left Night City and found his personal freedom in the Badlands. He took up odd jobs as a scavenger, traveling in and out of the city to deliver cargo. It was during his outings in Night City where he fell in love with Kim, whom he convinced to join him out away from the push and pull of it all. Together, they built a homestead to call their own. A homestead to plant the seeds for raising a family of their own… alongside the abandoned Panzer that Nick salvaged from his family’s old property on the border.
Noore Najjar: Once a member of Trauma Team, Noore found herself at wit’s end when an assignment gone wrong landed her at the feet of the notorious Pagan Min. At first, she was willing to lend her aid to the organization. After all, Kang Tao was held in high regard among Night City’s corporate elite. What she didn’t know is that they had eyes on her every move. On her family. And one day, when they 'mysteriously’ went missing, Pagan was there to offer Noore information in exchange for an exclusive arrangement. She left Trauma Team to work for him as a back alley ripper, and he 'conveniently’ forgot to mention that her family had been dead for months upon months. Funny how that works, huh?
Pagan Min: Rather than abandon his role within the Triad, Pagan embraced taking the reigns from his father. Now that the piece of shit was gone, he had the means to properly tear shit up. And he did. So much so, in fact, that he got in it with Kang Tao. A few shady deals here, a couple of bribes there, and Pagan’s branch of the Triad found themselves in all the glory Night City has to offer. Pagan acts as the figurehead for Kang Tao’s less legitimate dealings, often brokering deals between the corporation and anyone willing to buy in on exclusive stock.
Paolo de la Vega: Born and raised in the Heywood District, with his parents hailing from Yara, Paolo had many expectations to uphold in his family. He was drafted into Militech’s ranks at the turn of the War, and did well to follow in the footsteps of his father. That was, until news of his identity came to light. Paolo was dishonorably discharged and disowned by his family for “dressing like a man”. He was left to fend for himself in Night City’s streets, taking odd jobs that typically weren’t worth the extra creds. At some point, he ended up stealing from Talia, who opted to befriend him and let him on her musical ventures. The duo formed Máximas Matanzas, using their voices to protest the corporate takeover of Night City (particularly that of BioTechnica, where the utopian leadership is not all that it seems).
Peaches: One of few wild animals to survive Night City’s attempts at eliminating the local populace after a string of transmissible diseases, Peaches wanders the sands of The Badlands. At times, she finds herself at the doorstep of Miss Wilhelmina Mabel, who cares for Peaches for reasons unknown. Perhaps it’s craved companionship. Perhaps it’s simply an exchange for the loot Peaches gathers and stores. Regardless, the cougar seems rather friendly to most scavengers.
Rachel Jessop (Faith Seed): Born into wealth and set up with significant shares in BioTechnica (thanks to the family’s research in experimental medicine via plants), Rachel fell from grace when the pressures put onto her finally pulled her under. She turned to drugs for comfort, often finding herself lost within Night City’s streets and barely able to make it back home when things got particularly awful. For a while, Rachel had Tracey. Had someone to help her and pull her away from whatever edge, metaphorical or literal, that she found herself nearly toppling over. Unfortunately, their relationship fell under when Rachel met Joseph. According to Rachel, dubbed Faith by the preacher, Joseph welcomed her, introducing her to a strict moral code without drugs and alcohol whereby she recovered from her addiction. Unlike Rachel, Tracey soon realized Eden’s Gate’s duplicity and left them, while Rachel immersed herself completely in the ideology of the cult. She became a figurehead for those who stumbled across their territory, luring them in with a false sense of security before subjecting them to “the Bliss”.
Sam Becker: The son of a proud Militech father, Sam Becker treads Night City from the shadows. Working alongside Willis Huntley in the NUSA CIA, a mission gone wrong turned this dedicated soldier into a man fighting for his life. After losing contact out on Morro Bay, Sam found himself stuck in the ranks of Hoyt’s Privateers. Rising to become the patriarch’s right-hand man, he’s got a bad feeling he might not be able to claw his way out.
Willis Huntley: Working for President Myers is no easy task. Anybody can tell you that, but Willis doesn’t sugar coat it. Agent Willis Huntley works as a member of the NUSA’s Central Intelligence Agency. Sound familiar? A lot of his work involves working closely with Militech to keep an eye on things. Particularly the work of Arasaka, and what exactly it is they want with Night City. What do they gain from the town’s independence from the Union? Who knows? Not Willis.
Yuma Lau: Loyalty is one hell of a drug. Ever since the Min family took her in, Yuma devoted herself to their cause… whatever that may be. She idolizes Pagan and what he’s capable of. It’s no surprise that she followed him into the light as he stepped out of the shadow his father cast upon him. She followed him into blind deals with Kang Tao, acting as his personal guard. If anybody so much as looked at him wrong, they were in for a world of trouble. She followed him to Night City, taking control of the Triad’s security and protecting their interests with an iron fist.
#(headcanon)#(m: ajay ghale)#(m: buck)#(m: bembé alvarez)#(m: sharky boshaw)#(m: dani rojas)#(m: rosa mel paquete)#(m: hoyt volker)#(m: jacob seed)#(m: jason brody)#(m: joey hudson)#(m: john seed)#(m: joseph seed)#(m: juan cortez)#(m: maría marquessa)#(m: nick rye)#(m: noore najjar)#(m: pagan min)#(m: paolo de la vega)#(m: peaches)#(m: faith seed)#(m: sam becker)#(m: willis huntley)#(m: yuma lau)#(v; crossover)#(v; cyberpunk 2077)#(v; where is my mind)#(long post)
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XDefiant Review - Defying No Tradition - Game Informer
New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/xdefiant-review-defying-no-tradition-game-informer/
XDefiant Review - Defying No Tradition - Game Informer
XDefiant’s core modes offer temporarily fun stabs at the competitive multiplayer arena shooter, but Ubisoft’s latest attempt at carving out a slice of the lucrative esports pie feels half-baked. Core modes like its practice mode and ranked queue are gated off by construction tape at the time of writing. This leaves a bland battle pass with head-scratching progression decisions and standard weapon-based leveling systems as the only tangible means of rewarding you for playing the game or doing well beyond an individual match. And with questionable netcode and missing mainstay features and modes, not even its interesting hero shooter-like abilities and small tweaks on the run-and-gun, low-time-to-kill formula coined by Call of Duty make me want to return to XDefiant.
Ubisoft’s crossover shooter couldn’t have picked less interesting properties to kit-bash together. Though each of the five factions currently available in the game adds a cool approach to gameplay, they’re not exactly the superstars you think of when you hear Ubisoft. Instead, players step into the arenas as unfamiliar characters from Ded Sec (Watch Dogs), The Cleaners (The Division), Libertad (Far Cry), Echelon (Splinter Cell), or The Phantoms (Ghost Recon); there’s no Sam Fisher or Dani Rojas for you to recognize or get excited about picking because you liked their game. Each faction has three playable characters (two or more of which you need to unlock in each faction) but they have no differentiating traits between them aside from some cosmetic stuff.
Combat is fast-paced, with a quick time-to-kill to make each shot count and almost nonexistent respawn timers constantly pushing you back out of the gate to chase down the objective and juice up that K/D ratio with its hyper-realistic arsenal of guns and devices. The standout here is XDefiant’s selection of 14 maps, each boasting plenty of cleverly laid out lanes and chokepoints, with open areas and tight corridors in different spots to encourage and reward different playstyles.
Getting enough kills in one life unlocks a cool ultra ability to help your team out in battle and stack up some extra kills or extra time on the objective. Here’s where things start to change from the familiar: Ultras, alongside a less powerful but still useful secondary ability and a helpful passive, vary based on the faction you choose. Each faction is based on an organization or group from another Ubisoft property and has its own set of specialties and abilities. You can switch between them anytime during a game, letting you adjust your strategy based on the task at hand.
Let’s say you’re playing Domination, but the other team has a sniper in a perfect sightline to pick you and your teammates off one by one, keeping you from capturing the point. Setting up one of the Phantoms’ Mag Barriers might help absorb some sniper fire long enough for your team to grab a reliable foothold and return fire. But as tactical as these abilities can be, XDefiant’s basic setup doesn’t do enough to encourage strategic play over simply rushing the objective and trying to beat the enemy team to the draw until the score limit is reached.
That game of quickdraw doesn’t always feel right, though. XDefiant’s netcode and hit detection are way off; I can’t tell you how many times my game has registered a shot on an opposing player as a hit, only for them to kill me and the game to tell me that they had full health after I’d been downed. Even with a wired connection and the best ping in my lobby, I’ve been shot through walls as I move and even been killed while hiding behind cover that should block my entire body.
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It’s barely been a week since I first installed XDefiant, but I don’t think I’d miss it from my hard drive. While the gameplay at its core is fun enough, the game is barren compared to most other shooters—including the free ones—with even bare-basic modes like team deathmatch and free-for-all or features like a ping system or skill-based matchmaking nowhere to be found. Its maps are well-made, sure, but with no rank to strive for, daily missions that ask me to commit to playing ten whole matches, and very little to look forward to in the battle pass, I don’t understand why this game would gain any traction over others beyond the fact that it’s free.
#2024#approach#cell#change#construction#cosmetic#detection#Developer#devices#dogs#esports#Features#Full#game#GATE#guns#hand#hard drive#Health#how#it#LESS#life#One#organization#Other#PC#Picked#platform#Play
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Ted Lasso Hanukkah one shot
Howdy neighbor! I decided to write a Hanukkah one shot surrounding my Ted Lasso oc, Owen Katz who is, as you could have guessed, Jewish! It’s very wholesome with the whole team (& some Dani/Sam in the background) https://archiveofourown.org/works/35171374/chapters/87934114
#hanukkah#chanukah#ted lasso#ted lasso oc#ted lasso original character#ted lasso fanfic#ted lasso fic#ted lasso fanfiction#ted lasso one shot#one shot#oneshot#hanukkah one shot#hanukkah fic#holiday fic#happy hanukkah#happy holidays#jamie tartt#ted lasso Jamie Tartt#afc richmond#dani rojas#sam obisanya
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Noisy
Roy Kent x F!Reader - smutty one shot based on the prompt above originally sent to @onceuponaoneshotfanfic. A somewhat sequel to Complaints Procedure
MASTERLIST
~~~~~
Remarkably, being bent over your desk by Roy Kent hadn't made things weird. He'd been courteous and gentlemanly while you got straightened out and went to the bathroom to clean up, he'd been polite and kind when you'd both left work at the same time, and he'd instigated nothing since. He'd nodded hello if he passed you in the corridor or car park and it was as if nothing at all had ever happened. He'd looked a little shocked when you'd first crossed paths and you'd continued exactly as you had before, as if he thought you might be awkward, but once he realised that wasn't the case, everything was as it was before. You hadn't stumbled across him alone again, but you hadn't sought him out either. You'd mostly expected him to be joking about it happening again, you definitely weren't counting on it. You were busy with the contract for the team's newest player, Dani Rojas, signed, sealed and media appearances all accounted for, you just needed to make sure that Dani had a copy for his own records. It was late enough in the day that the team had finished up, so you took the contract to Ted. You made some small talk about Jamie and his behaviour, and told Ted his options on the best course of action. You were heading back to your office for the last hour of the day when a hand shot out of the boot room and yanked you inside by the wrist.
"Oh fuck!" You squeak, startled.
"Oi, you better watch your fuckin' mouth," Roy growls, his voice near your ear in the darkness. Your body aches suddenly for him, the no nonsense tone already putting you in a spin. He turned you to face him, not letting go of your wrist. "Miss me?" He says quietly. Once again, you know there is no point in hiding the truth. He can practically feel you vibrating with anticipation.
"I think this is not the recommended complaints process, Mr Kent." He chuckles, backing you into the door.
"You gonna tell me off?"
"Depends, are you gonna behave?"
"Me? I'm always on my best behaviour." He leans down to kiss you, his arms looping around your waist. As he deepens the kiss, his hands move to push your skirt up your legs to bunch at your hips. The better access means he can lift you up and press you fully against the door. He's rock hard against your core, separated only by the thin fabric of your knickers and his jogging bottoms. You clench your thighs, gasping when his hips buck against you. You moan, quietly, letting his kiss swallow the sound. "No one's here, we can be as loud as we want." He tells you, rolling against you again. You shake your head,
"Oh god, Roy," you need to let him know that Ted's still around, preferably before he has you screaming his name, "no, Ted's still here."
"He doesn't fucking count. Unless you want him to hear what I'm doing to you?"
"Don't you fucking dare." You warn, "you're good, Roy, but I'm not some dumb little tart who'll do anything for it." You've got his chin gripped in your hand and he mirrors it, his hand resting lightly between your chin and throat.
"You look good with my hands around your throat." He says gruffly. You grind your hips against him, feeling him harden even more as you do so.
"Are you going to fuck me, or shall I just go ahead and sort myself out?" You bring your hand from his chin, down between your bodies where you can just about graze a fingertip over your clit, you circle it lightly over your underwear, shivering in his arms. His grip around you tightens, pinning your arm in place, his eyes dark.
"Do it." He challenges. You circle again, letting your hips roll and your core press against the length of his cock. Your breath quickens,
"God Roy, you've got me so wet again."
"Let me hear you babe," With your back against the door and your body fused to his, there's hardly any space to move your hand, but the friction does most of the work for you. You come quickly, and he wastes no time in dragging his joggers just down enough to free himself. He pushes into you, pausing just slightly as the door knocks in the frame at the motion. You kiss just under his ear and whisper,
"Fuck me, Roy." He braces a hand on the door to dull the sound and thrusts into you over and over. It's not long before you're rambling his name, each stroke sending you deliriously close to the edge. His fingertips dig in where he's holding you up against the door, and the little pinch of pain is exquisite. Sensing that you definitely won't be able to stay quiet, he kisses you hard as you both come. You're not sure he was quite so successful in stopping the door from rattling on its hinges, though. Your head falls onto his shoulder, both of you breathless. He leans into you, his head on your chest, and lets the door and his body hold your weight so he can give his arms a break. You run your hand through his hair, "need to move babe, you'll get hurt if we stay like this." Reluctantly, he helps you down and pulls his joggers back up. He gets a towel from the shelf behind him and cleans you up as much as he can in the dark, pulling your knickers off and your skirt back down into place. You hold your hand out for your underwear, but he shakes his head with a little laugh and pockets them.
"Maybe next time." He kisses you lightly and leaves the boot room, whistling.
no ones here we can be as loud as we want + you better watch your fucking mouth & you look good with my hands around your throat and with my man Roy Kent 😏
I’m looking for filth lmao 🤣
Thank youuuu🩵
AHHHH 😅
Sooooo I literally just posted my first real attempt at spiciness and it was pretty tame imo, so this ^^^^ is a bit out of my wheelhouse 😵💫
Although I hope someone who's good at smut sees this and writes it because I want to read it
#ted lasso#ted lasso fanfiction#ted lasso fic#roy kent#roy kent x reader#roy kent fanfiction#roy kent smut#roy kent imagine#roy kent x you#roy kent fluff#roy kent fic#he's here he's there he's every fucking where
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on god if they do SHIT to my boy dani rojas i will be making my displeasure KNOWN
#I SAW HOW HE FUCKED UP THAT ONE SHOT. IF ANYONE IS DISSAPOINTED IN HIM IT IS ON FUCKING SIGHT#ted lasso#dani rojas#😤😤😤😤#i am hoping praying begging dani n the rest of the team get more character development tho#SAW ISAAC A LOT. 👀👀👀👀👀#also i know like for sure im almost alone in this but i do hope ted and rebecca dont get together#like from what it looks like they will but i think it would be cool if they were all just besties actually#but. wever#soda chats
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