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benedictscanvas · 2 years ago

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saved you a seat - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

word count: 3.1k of pure fluff

a/n: no warnings for this one except language, obviously. i just wanted to imagine having a fluffy little coach trip with jamie tartt so i hope there are others out there who want to imagine the same. requests are SO open for jamie/roy/sam/ted please do send some ideas <3

---

You weren’t quite sure how you’d managed to engineer this situation, but you were worried that if you thought about it too hard, you might end up losing it. Somehow, on a coach to Amsterdam, you’d ended up wedged between a window and Jamie Tartt and despite that being the stuff of nightmares only about a year ago, now it was something you couldn’t have hoped for in advance.

“I said I’d save a seat for ya, didn’t I?” he’d claimed proudly when you shimmied past him to sit in the window seat. He’d been smiling hopefully at you as he patted it when you’d walked down the aisle of the coach. You’d thought you’d be sitting with Rebecca at the back until he’d tugged at your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

“To be totally transparent, I thought you were joking,” you murmured to him once you were settled, bag tucked underneath your seat, “You also said the same to Roy yesterday, and I heard you saying it to Sam this morning.”

“Yeah, but I was fuckin’ with them,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Besides, we have a whole conditioner campaign to plan, right? Now’s as good a time to start as any.”

You tried not to let your heart sink a little. Of course it was work-related. You’d just have to be happy with the grin he was sporting as he nudged your arm.

“You’re on,” you grinned back, then, with a show of boldness, “But only if you promise not to complain when I inevitably fall asleep on you later.”

If anything, his grin grows wider.

“Shoulder’s all yours, love. I’m told it’s pretty comfy.”

“Who’s told you that? Roy?”

He rolls his eyes, but it’s too fond. You busy yourself trying to manoeuvre your laptop out of your bag, but a hand on yours stops you in your tracks. When you look up, Jamie’s face is soft and he’s tucking your laptop away again.

“Relax. The coach’ll take hours yet. We can get comfy first, yeah?”

“You’re right,” you concede, shuffling into the back of your seat again with a content sigh, “Don’t know why I’m pretending to be eager to work.”

He laughs and you join in. You want to tell him he’s got a downright infectious laugh these days, because its lighter than ever and always filled with genuine happiness, but you don’t. Too much. Instead, you push up on the back of the seat in front of you to tap Dani urgently on the shoulder, then sit down quickly and turn a fake-reprimanding glance at Jamie.

“What is it, amigo?” he directs his question towards Jamie who’s looking incredulous, “Or are you playing a cheeky prank?”

You tut and sink further into your seat as you shake your head at Jamie. He begins to point at you, but Dani is already ruffling Jamie’s hair and turning back around as he mutters happily in Spanish. Jamie turns to you, brows furrowed.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, eh?”

You shrug, as playful as you can manage with your heart beating a little harder in your chest. He narrows his eyes at you, then settles into his seat, and you know he’s plotting revenge. You can’t wait.

---

It’s been an hour and a half, and you and Jamie have been going back and forth almost the entire time, the very idea of doing any work on his new ad campaign buried in favour of having fun. Jamie had snuck your phone from your lap and prank called Ted who was sat at the back of the bus. You’d then somehow managed to do the same with Jamie’s phone, but decided to send a rather inflammatory text to Jan Maas, which was followed by a half hour argument between the two men that was incredibly entertaining.

Most recently, Jamie had made a terrible noise putting his mouth to his elbow and blamed it on you, but luckily Sam had seen him do it and you’d been able to clear your name. It had been a stellar effort though, so you were giving it some time before you found something perfect to retaliate with.

“Can I ask y’ something?” Jamie spoke suddenly, but his voice was softer than you’d heard it on the journey so far. You turned to him and nodded encouragingly, “I was jus’ sat here wonderin’ - and please don’t take this the wrong way - but why y’ decided to come with us? I’m happy about it, ‘course I am, but-“

“I get it, Jamie,” you said quickly, because you could see how much he was struggling. It was heartwarming how earnest he was when he’d said he was happy you’d come with them though, and you were fighting an urge to lean in and kiss his cheek to stop his rambling, “I’m not exactly essential personnel for a trip to Amsterdam.”

“Fuck, that’s exactly what I was tryin’ not to sound like - wait, y’ don’t really think that do ya?”

“Jamie, seriously, stop worrying! It’s sweet but so unnecessary. Hannah, you know the one that usually handles socials? She couldn’t make it so Rebecca asked if I’d fill in. I’m not one to turn down a free trip with some of my favourite people.”

His smile was genuine until the last sentence, where it morphed into something cocky as he puffed his chest.

“You wanna name any of those favourite people of yours?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you pretended to think about it. God, it felt like it would be so easy to admit that you’d jumped at the chance to come because you jumped at any chance to spend time with Jamie these days, but you couldn’t. There were hours of this bus ride left to sit in awkward silence if he didn’t take it well.

“Well, Ted’s gotta be right up there,” you began, shifting in your seat to look around the bus, “Sam, of course, and, god, Colin is a must. Rebecca, obviously-“

“No one who’s last name might happen to rhyme with a part of the body, or somethin’?”

You scrunch up your face in fake confusion. It’s easy to imagine doing this forever, just playing pretend with Jamie Tartt for the rest of time, and you’ll play along as long as he lets you.

“Ohhh you mean Jan Maas? Rhymes with ass, very clever. Didn’t know you were such a poet.”

“I dabble, me,” he deadpans, but neither of you can keep it up as you dissolve into giggles. Jamie pulls his cap further down his forehead to hide just how much he’s cracking up and you tuck your face down - no need to have the rest of the bus trying to get in on the joke. When you both calmed down, he turned, looking back up at you from under his hat, “Very quick by the way. Jan Maas, ass. You’re good, you are.”

“You’ve only just noticed?” you asked incredulously, intent on teasing him just a step further, but he takes his hat off to look at you properly when he answers, running his hand once, twice through his hair first, of course.

“Nah,” he replied, voice that soft whisper that you’d come to crave, “Y’ wanna know when I noticed?”

You swallowed thickly, leaning into him in the same way he had, all conspiratorial and close.

“I dunno. Do I wanna know?”

Jamie ignored you and continued, eyes flitting from your face to a thread on his joggers he was picking at.

“It was when I’d just come back to Richmond an’ everyone was mad at me. Rightly so, I know. But I was sat in me car, havin’ lunch cause no one would eat with me yet. You were walking past with Rebecca going to lunch and you waved at me, with this mad bright smile on your face y’know?”

“I may have a vague memory of that,” you said, as if seeing him alone in his car hadn’t broken your heart at that time.

“An’ then the day after, when you ate in your car an’ invited me to join. I knew y’ were only doin’ it for me, but I didn’t care. I jus’ remember being so grateful. So, so grateful. That’s when I knew you were…”

He trailed off, but he was stuck staring at your face. You could feel the heat sparking down the length of your spine as he seemed to search your expression for something. His own was unreadable.

“…good?”

It was like you had snapped him out of a trance and somehow you wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Good, yeah, that’s what I mean,” he murmured, then seemed to let that cocky mask fall back into place, “You wanna tell me when you realised I was good now so I don’t just sit here like a prick? Or, let me guess, you’re still waiting for it to happen?”

Despite the teasing tone, you somehow knew this wasn’t an opportunity to joke. There was a newfound vulnerability in Jamie that you were always careful not to tread on; it was such a welcome change after all.

“Nope, I know exactly when it was. I walked past the boot room one day, a couple weeks before we had that first lunch I think, and you were making sure things were tidy enough for Will to sort. There was nobody to watch you do it, either. I just knew that you were a different Jamie. That you were…good.”

Good didn’t cut it at all. You’d sworn then and there that you were going to help him find his way at Richmond whatever it took, and eating lunch in your car just so that he could join you a few weeks later felt like a good start. It had been. As Jamie worked to gain the love of his teammates, he had you as a constant sounding board, willing lunch partner and occasional movie night holder. He wasn’t invited over often, not wanting to seem too eager, but he’d never turned you down.

Yes, that was the moment you’d realised he’d changed, but there had been a million moments since that had turned him into the first person that came to mind when he’d asked you for your favourite person on the bus.

Now he wasn’t meeting your eyes at all, fully trained on that thread he’d been picking at. You sighed and flicked his hand to stop him ruining his favourite pair, and he finally looked up at you, wide puppy eyes that always made you melt when they showed up.

“You really mean that?”

Rather than replying, you hold out your pinky to him and watch his smile grow as he twists his own around yours. You let it linger then lean in to kiss your own hand and gesture for him to do the same. He does it so tenderly you think you’re getting lightheaded.

“Every word,” you assure him, settling back into your seat and untangling your hands from each other, “Now that I’ve been so nice to you, think I can cash in that shoulder offer from earlier?”

It was easier to revert to the easy banter than continue down this sincere path. And even though it was only just beginning to get dark, you couldn’t look at him any longer. Maybe if you were resting on his shoulder, you could grin for a bit without him wondering what was wrong with you.

He patted his shoulder invitingly and you snuggled down into it, until your cheek was smushed into his jacket and you could smell the cologne radiating from him. You threaded an arm into the crook of his elbow without thinking, just because it was more comfortable, but when you moved to take it away, he rested his hand on yours to keep you there. That same hand then came up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, staying to cradle your head for a moment.

You held your breath.

He quickly thought better of leaving his hand there, squeezing your head for just a moment before dropping his arm back to his side.

It took a while to breathe naturally again, especially knowing he’d feel every painstaking inhale and exhale against him, and it took even longer for your eyes to close and to finally drift off.

---

When you woke up again, you had to squint as your eyes adjusted to the almost total darkness of the coach. It had to have been a couple of hours. You wiped your mouth to ensure you hadn’t drooled on your very kind seat partner then risked a glance up at him without moving your head too much.

He looked asleep. His chin was tucked against the crown of your head, and his whole body was turned into yours in a way it hadn’t been when you’d fallen asleep. There was nothing that would make you want to move and disturb the moment, except for the unfortunate cramp in your neck you were simply going to have to stretch out.

You tried to gently ease your head out from under his but his eyes fluttered open immediately as he looked at you in concern.

“Y’alright love?”

That voice. Huskier and broader than ever in its newly woken state. You smiled up at him and whispered back, noticing that the rest of the bus were either asleep or resting as you stretched your neck.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, sorry. You can have my shoulder now if you like, ‘s only fair.”

“Nah you’re alright. If you’re awake, I’m awake. What kind of seatmate would I be if I left you on your own, hm?”

“A normal one?” you offered, but he shook his head, holding a hand to his heart as if wounded.

“I will not have myself being described as anythin' but fuckin' extraordinary, please,” he insisted quietly, making you chuckle, “Did ya sleep well?”

“Very. Whoever told you that you have a comfy shoulder was annoyingly right.”

There was a note of jealousy in your tone that you didn’t expect to be there when you started talking. If Jamie noticed it, he didn’t say anything, even though you could have sworn you saw a smirk pass across his features.

“Well, I’ll let Colin know you agree with him,” he said matter-of-factly, and you wondered if he was telling you it was Colin on purpose. It was so difficult to second guess your every interaction with him, feelings getting stronger every minute you spent with him. Really, you were tired of it and tired in general and it was enough. Your usual caution had been left behind. You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe finally confess, but he was talking before you could begin.

“Actually, can I tell ya a secret?”

It took you a moment to recover from what you had been about to say and respond to him.

“Uh…yeah, of course. Anything, you know that.”

“I do, yeah. Yeah, that’s part of it actually,” he was so in his head, but he was looking at you like he had earlier, searching for something. Nowadays, he looked so soft all the time, but there was a selfish part of you that hoped maybe he was especially soft with you, “It’s about what we said earlier. I lied to ya, and I’ve been fuckin’ kickin’ meself for it ever since.”

“You lied?”

“Yeah. I said the day we had lunch in your car was when I realised you were good. That’s not true,” he admitted, as if he was saying something shameful, “I already knew you were good, way before I was done bein’ a full-time prick. Anyone could tell you were good.”

Your heart was hammering away in your chest, in your throat, in your ears.

“That day in the car park was actually when I realised you were just…fuckin’ incredible. Like, the most beautiful person I know. Not just fit, I knew you were fuckin’ fit, I’ve got eyes, but like- y’ were just somethin’ else. You are somethin’ else. Special, like.”

You felt frozen in your seat. It was hard to tell with how 'Jamie' the whole speech had been, but you were pretty sure there was a confession in there. It didn’t sound like something he’d say to any of his mates. Still, you had to be sure.

“Sorry, Jamie, I might be being thick here but are you saying you’re like…into me? Like, romantically?”

You cringed instantly at your choice of words but he didn’t falter. This time, when he laid his hand over yours, he kept it there, stroking a steady rhythm into the back of your hand.

“I’m saying I’m into you in like…all the ways y’ can be into someone. I’m fuckin’ mad about you, Y/N. The only one who doesn’t see it is you, but you fell asleep on me shoulder and I was in fuckin’ heaven so I’m telling ya. Look, I’m not expectin’ anything-“

“Well, you should. Expect things, I mean,” you cut him off, because you can’t go another second without reciprocating, “I thought you saved me a seat to talk about your conditioner campaign.”

He scoffed loudly then glanced around to check he hadn’t woken anyone as he lowered his voice again.

“I couldn’t give a shit about all that,” he said as firmly as he could whisper, “I give a shit about you. A lot of shits.”

You let out a breathy chuckle as you reply.

“God, I give so many shits about you, Jamie. Too many shits. Have done for fucking forever, I was just about to tell you.”

“What, before I did?” he said, making a face, “As if I’d let you steal my thunder.”

You take an opportunity and a boldness you can’t help but seize as you take his face in both hands and pull it towards yours until you’re both a breath apart. He closes his eyes and pushes towards you but you keep him just a moment away, stroking a trail along one of his eyelids.

“Well I think you’re fucking incredible too. Prick,” you mumble, without any venom. It sounds like the most loving pet name in the world, the way you utter it for his ears only.

“Yours,” he counters quietly, winding his arms around your waist until he can pull you fully onto his lap and you have to bite back a squeal. You both glance around for onlookers and find none, “Think the coast is clear, babe?”

“Crystal,” you insist, surging forward to press a searing kiss to his lips, gratified when he responds just as enthusiastically, pushing back into you, both hands clutching at you like you were about to disappear any moment.

There were still plenty of hours left on the coach, however, and you were content to stay exactly where you were as long as Jamie would let you.

And there was no chance of him letting you go anywhere.

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

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axelsagewrites · 1 year ago

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Could you do a Roy or Jamie fic where the reader gets hurt? Even something silly like getting hit in the head with a ball at practice or something! They’re super concerned and want to take care of them! I also love angst…sorry if it’s a stupid idea. No worries if you don’t want to write it 💜✨

Jamie Tartt*Practise Mishap

Pairing: Jamie x f!reader

Word count: 1291

Warnings: reader getting hit by a football (which hurts a lot btw from experience), Jamie feeling guilty, fluff

A/n: i love this idea btw ive been wanting to write something like this for a while but i made this more fluff than angst

Masterlist here

You’d never actually seen Jamie at practise. There was the occasional time where you dropped him off or picked him up after, but you never lingered since he needed to concentrate. However today Jamie in all his genius managed to forget his phone this morning.

“Wouldn’t have forgotten it if you hadn’t have distracted me love,” he teased, a smirk toying on his lips that made you smack his chest.

“Can you not?” you said, nodding to where the coaches stood only a couple feet away.

Of course, Roy heard. A loud groan came from him before he barked at Jamie, “Back on the field Tartt,”

“You staying to watch Jamie in action?” Ted asked, far more politely than Roy who was sulking at the suggestion.

You looked between him and Jamie who seemed to perk up at the idea, “Is that allowed?”

“I don’t see why not,”

“Maybe he’ll actually put some effort in,” Roy mumbled.

Jamie just rolled his eyes at Roy before giving you a quick kiss, “Get ready to see the king in action,” he said before running back on the field as you laughed.

“How do you stand him?” Roy grunted.

Truthfully you found Jamie’s cockiness annoyingly attractive, but you didn’t think Roy needed to hear that. “What can I say? I’m a saint,” you joked.

Even though the practise was interesting at first it was just boys kicking balls around a field and the illusion quickly worn off. That plus you were supposed to get a bunch of things done at home since it was a rare day off. You turned to Ted to tell him, “I’ll probably shoot off in a minute or two,” you said at the same time as someone yelled “Watch out!”

Roy tried to grab your arm, pulling you out the way, but not fast enough and a ball planted right in the middle of your chest, knocking you off your feet. You hit the ground with a thud and all the air was knocked out your lungs.

You heard Jamie shout your name, but you were too busy coughing up a storm and trying not to be sick. Roy and Ted had crouched down beside you, Beard shouting for Nate to run for the first aider. “Are you alright love?” Jamie asked, dropping to his knees beside you.

“I think- “your attempts to speak was interrupted by more coughing and the urge to be sick, “Ow,” you winced.

“What the fuck were you doing Colin?” you heard the footballers begin to argue as they all rushed to your side.

“I was trying to pass to Isaac! I didn’t know he didn’t see me,”

“When I said improve your kick, I didn’t mean kill Jamie’s bird,” Roy yelled at him, standing up.

Ted tried to calm him, but it was Jamie who spoke first, “Oi! The lot of you move it. you’re crowding her now piss off,” his anger washed off his face when he turned back to you, “C’mon love let’s get you some help,”

“I’m fine,” you winced as Jamie pulled you to your feet.

“No, you’re not now be quiet and let me help you,” he said as he helped you over to sit on a bench at the side. The first aider came and gave you a once over and said it was all good but to be careful. So, Jamie naturally made them triple check. Colin also came over, apologising a million and one times to which you assured him it was okay, and Jamie tried not to death glare him.

Some water and painkillers did help but you still weren’t feeling amazing. Ted walked over with a guilty smile on his face, “How we are doing over here folks?”

“Better now,” you smiled, hiding your wincing as best you could.

“I’m gonna kill Colin,” Jamie muttered.

You rolled your eyes, placing a hand over his, “It was an accident babe. Let’s just let it go, okay?” Jamie didn’t say anything, but you knew he wouldn’t. “But I should defiantly go now,”

“Well Rebecca gave me a call saying to tell Jamie to take the afternoon off and take care of you,” Ted said and before you could protest, he cut you off, “Its doctors orders, okay? Now scamp you too. And try take it easy, okay?”

You felt bad making Jamie miss the end of practise but right now football was the last thing on his mind. after dropping you off at his place and surrounding you with pillows and blankets Jamie went on a Tesco run for snacks.

When he got back you laughed when you saw the almost overflowing bag. “We’ve got enough to survive the winter,” you joked as he sat it down. “You’re spoiling me,”

“Never,” Jamie said with a bashful smile as he pulled out the flowers from behind his back, “Got ye these as well,”

“Aw Jamie,” you gushed, standing up to take them from him but you winced slightly as you did.

Instantly concern washed over his face as he grabbed your arm to steady you despite you not actually falling, “You alright love? I knew that women missed something. What hurts- “

“Jamie,” you interrupted him, cupping his face with your hands making him pause in his tracks, “I’m fine baby I swear. Are you?”

“Yeah, course I am,” he said, wrapping his arms around you, “I just don’t want you getting hurt and that. I just feel bad’s all,” he said, mumbling as he hugged you tighter.

You moved your head to rest on his shoulder, hugging him back, “But why?”

“You were there to see me and then you got hurt. I know how hard those balls can hit,” he said before sighing, “Its all my fault,” he mumbled making your heart break.

You pulled back only to pull him to sit on the couch next to you, placing the flowers on the coffee table, “It was an accident. It was no one’s fault,”

“It was colin’s fault,”

“It was no one’s fault,” you repeated, rolling your eyes with a small smile, “Now are you gonna sit and mope all day or are you gonna take care of me?”

Finally, a smile cracked onto his lips, “Thought it didn’t hurt anymore?”

“I lied,” you said, sinking back into the couch in a dramatic display, “I am wounded beyond belief. You’ll need to do everything I need,” you joked with a hand splayed across your head.

Jamie leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Don’t I always?” he smiled. “Want me to put those in some water?”

“Yes please,” you grinned as Jamie got up to sort out the flowers, but you called out before he could leave the room, “Can we have a movie night?”

“If that’s what the lady wants, that’s what the lady gets,” he grinned, “Just try not pick a total chick flick,” he added with a smirk that made you roll your eyes.

By the time he’d returned with drinks and a takeaway menu you already had 27 dresses queued up, “Oh c’mon,” Jamie protested as he dropped onto the couch beside you.

“Please, I’m injured,” you teased making him roll his eyes but finally agree. Despite his protests Jamie was more into the movie than you were and made you pinkie promise to pause it when he went to get the food when it arrived.

Four chick flicks and an unholy amount of food later you and Jamie were curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets. “Feeling better?” he murmured in your ear though you could hear from his voice he was already half asleep.

“Feeling perfect baby, thank you,”

“Anything for you,”

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#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #ted lasso #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt oneshot

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 3 months ago

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Your Hands Are Tough, But They Are Where Mine Belong

I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You

Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader 2.2k words Warnings: Language, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, extremely protective and angry father, angst, violence (👀), Reader is hot for violent Roy (understandable)

“Go home.”

“Dad-”

“You’re banned from the club. Go home.”

Even though you’d expected an icy welcome, some part of you still figured you’d be allowed to work. After all, it was almost time for you to head back to school; surely your dad could handle a couple weeks of you fetching coffee and organizing files so his kid could collect a paycheck and buy a pint at the campus pub now and then.

Apparently not though, based on how red his face was when he saw you stroll as casually as possible into his office. His greeting to you was a two-word demand to leave and no eye contact whatsoever. There was definitely a part of you that wanted to listen, to head home with your tail between your legs and stay in your room until it was time to head back to Southampton. But your mother’s words about not raising a daughter who hides rang in your head over and over- and then you caught sight of those familiar brown eyes in the changing room. They bore into yours with that mix of adoration and concern, maybe even with a hint of sympathy, giving you the ability to stand up a bit straighter.

“I’ve got a job to do,” you reminded your father pointedly. “An actual ‘I-have-a-badge-and-get-paid’ job. If you don’t want to talk to me, fine. But I’m here, and I’m going to work.”

Instead of the shouting you were fully prepared for, your father simply stared at you and let out the gruffest sigh you’d ever heard. “I don’t want to see you even look at him,” he hissed. “Not a glance. You understand?”

Progress. Miniscule progress, but progress nonetheless. “Yes, sir,” you murmured.

Without another word to you, your father stormed into the changing room, where all noise silenced immediately. You watched, with utter humiliation in your tight chest, as he stood nose to nose with Roy, whose wide eyes were clearly straining not to lock with yours. He gave a few frantic nods and managed to say a couple of words before your dad turned and fumed out. After a few moments, those brown eyes found yours again. You offered Roy a half-hearted wave, which he returned with a firm nod, clearly intent on not drawing your father’s ire with winks and smirks.

You slumped into your father’s chair so you could turn your attention to some emails he needed to answer. As you opened one and began to type out a response, you pondered your mothers’ appeal to give your dad some time and wondered: how long would it take?

A full day of training wasn’t long enough, you discovered. Not that you expected your father to thaw so quickly. Unsure if you were sparing yourself or your dad the tension, you’d avoided the pitch as much as possible, opting to spend your day in his office instead. The ache in your chest that missed Roy tempted you to sneak out for just a glimpse of the midfielder, but a wry voice in your head suggested that perhaps you’d had enough sneaking around for one summer.

But the fear of your father’s reaction wasn’t enough to stop you from fixing your gaze on the footballer when he returned to the changing room at the end of practice, all sweaty and out of breath, his clothes clinging to him enticingly. When Roy peeled off his drenched shirt, all thoughts of playing it cool left your mind; you leaned your elbows on the desk and let your face fall onto your hands, practically drooling at the now-familiar sight. Surely Roy would be up for a sleepover, you reasoned as your eyes raked over that furry chest. Especially if you asked nicely enough.

“Aww, look! Princess is staring at Kent again.”

Oh, fuck, you thought, immediately sitting up and turning your attention to the blank computer screen. Drew, one of Chelsea’s newer signs, was smirking at Roy, who wore his usual scowl in return. Roy did not like Drew; the guy was chatty and tried too hard to be ‘one of the guys’. And, Roy had admitted in bed late one night, he really didn’t like the way the young striker looked at you. (“It’s the way I fucking looked at you when I first came to Chelsea,” Roy had grumbled.)

Now, Roy frowned and approached his snickering teammate. “Fuck did you say?”

That smirk remained as Drew shrugged at Roy. “Say, Kent,” he started, faux friendliness dripping from his voice as the rest of the guys began to perk up at their conversation. “Just curious, how did Coach react when he found out his little princess calls you ‘daddy’ too?”

Roy’s face went bright red as he pressed his chest to Drew’s. “You keep her name out of your fucking mouth,” he growled.

“And what does she have in her mouth?” Drew taunted.

If you had blinked, you would have missed the sight of Roy’s fist colliding with Drew’s smug face. It was pure instinct and without warning. The striker wobbled, but quickly recovered to return Roy’s punch with one of his own. The two footballers began to scuffle, with punches flying and loud swears filling the air in the changing room. At the first sight of blood dripping down Roy’s nose, you got the feeling back in your body and leapt from your seat and bolted into the changing room.

“Kent!” you gasped. Before you could take a step towards the brawl that several of the guys were attempting to break up, a pair of arms wrapped around you and tugged you back. When you looked up, you saw Jules, his eyes on his scrapping teammates.

“Don’t,” he grunted, still not looking at you. “You’ll just make it worse.”

If you had thought you’d felt helpless watching the press conference where you and Roy were exposed, it was nothing compared to how powerless you felt now, watching punches and slaps land on Roy’s snarling face. His eyes were wild as he tried to continue throwing punches while his teammates attempted to restrain him and shouted at him to calm the fuck down, Kent.

“What the absolute fuck is going on in here?”

Your father's face was even redder than Kent's as he looked in the doorway. His gaze jumped between Kent- and Drew- and Jules- and finally you. Jules quickly let you go and stepped back; even the very married striker was scared to be spotted so close to you, apparently. Your father narrowed his eyes at you before turning back to the footballers, who were finally pulled apart by exasperated teammates.

Roy spoke up. “Coach-”

“Suspended,” your dad interrupted, staring icily at his midfielder. “Next match, you're both on the bench.” He sneered at Roy. “Neither of you deserves to wear a Chelsea kit.”

“Coach,” Jules tried, stepping further away from you. “Kent was just-”

Your father’s eyes blazed at his player. “Next man who says anything is out for the season.” Without another glance at anyone, he stormed out, leaving behind him silence among his team.

While the players awkwardly began to gather their things and left the changing room, heading home or to pubs or wherever they went after training, you slunk back into the office, wondering what the hell you were supposed to do. Some hopeful part of you had assumed your dad would offer you a silent ride home, but that seemed completely out of the question now; he was probably halfway home anyways. Maybe you should call your mother? But then she’d know your dad had left you, and that would probably lead to another argument between the two of them, and you couldn’t bear to be the reason for a fight two nights in a row. Maybe you could still catch Jules, he probably wouldn’t mind-

“Oi.” Roy’s eyes were dark as he gazed down at you, mouth in a straight line. He’d washed off the blood and changed, but you could see some cuts and noted where the bruising was already starting. “Need a ride?”

For the second time in the last twenty-four hours, you sat silently in Roy Kent’s car. Normally, the two of you would chatter away, or you’d turn up the radio and sing along while Roy rolled his eyes when you went off-key just to make him laugh. But now, a heaviness filled the car, a feeling you were desperate to rid yourself of.

“Could I come over?” you finally whispered as Roy came to a stop light.

When he turned to look at you, the conflict in his eyes was clear as day; your name came out of his mouth as a sigh. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he murmured, reaching out to touch your knee gently. “Your dad-”

“Left me there,” you reminded him pointedly. “For all he knows, I’m walking home.” You laid your hand on top of Roy’s, cherishing how warm he felt at your fingertips. “So can I come over? Please?”

Despite himself, the corner of Roy’s mouth ticked upwards as he shook his head. “How the fuck can I ever say no to you, princess?”

That small smirk stayed on Roy’s bruised face as he settled on his couch, watching you make your way to the kitchen. When you returned with a pack of frozen peas, he raised a thick eyebrow at you.

“You making me dinner or something?” he teased.

Rather than answer, you shushed the footballer and sat beside him. With your free hand, you urged him to lie down with his head in your lap. Once he was settled and comfortable, you gently pressed the bag of peas to his purpling eye, your heart melting when you saw him wince at the cold contact. That wince quickly gave way to a soft smile as he reached up and touched your cheek, his version of a thank you.

“You’re too fucking good to me,” he chuckled. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Fighting for my honor seems like a good start,” you grumbled as you let your free hand stroke his curls. “I swear, I should kick Drew’s arse for hurting your pretty face.”

Roy chuckled, the joyful rumble vibrating under your touch. “The princess fighting for her knight. Now there’s a fairytale I’d fucking read.” He sighed and shifted slightly. “I’m sorry about today, babe. I’d love to say it’ll never happen again, but-”

You quickly shook your head. “You better not get into any more fights, Kent,” you playfully scolded. “I want to see my boyfriend start in a match, after all,” you added with a pout.

The B-word brought a full smile to that gorgeous face. “Fine,” he said, unable to hide his pleased blush under the bag of peas. “No more fighting.” Something sparkled in the brown eye that wasn’t hidden under the improvised ice pack. “But you did think it was hot, didn’t you?”

A blush crawled up your neck at the low tone he spoke with. “Don’t flatter yourself, Kent,” you scoffed. “My boyfriend beating some prick to a pulp and getting himself benched? In what universe would I find that hot?”

The small hum that rumbled in Roy's chest told you he didn’t believe a word of your protest. “This universe, princess.” His grin turned smug. “Don’t pretend seeing me all bruised and bloodied up isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.

Dammit. Roy Kent really did know you well at this point. Without thinking, you bit your lip as you gazed down at him, remembering the sight of his fists flying and blood dripping down his face. It was sexy, you admitted to yourself. And not just because it made your heart flutter to see Roy so protective of you. No, it was because he looked so wild and rough, and, fuck, his muscles had been flexing deliciously, and-

“Princess,” he drawled, bringing you out of your imagination. He took the frozen peas from your hand and placed the bag on the coffee table as he sat up. “Alright there?”

Embarrassed to have been so obviously indulging in a fantasy, you could do nothing but smile bashfully at the man who was still ridiculously beautiful, even with the black eye that he’d surely be sporting for a while. Hell, if anything, it managed to make him look even more gorgeous than he already was.

Not bothering to answer his question, you pulled yourself onto his lap, straddling him and nudging his cheek with your nose. “Maybe it was a little attractive,” you murmured as you pressed a slow kiss to his neck. “But only a little.”

“Sure.” His hands found your waist, tugging you closer until your chest was pressed to his. “Only a little.”

His mouth met yours with ease, the way it had all summer, sweet and soft and familiar. You melted against him and gave the softest grind over him, still rational enough to want to be careful with your injured boyfriend. But that rationality didn’t stick around for long, not when his tongue flicked against your lip. Your lips parted for him, letting out a little groan when his tongue began to brush against yours. When his hands began to slide lower, lower, until they gripped your ass tightly, you knew you had lost the battle to see who would keep their cool the longest.

But spending your evening in Roy Kent’s bed was a hell of a consolation prize.

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#roy kent bright baby blue #Chelsea!Roy #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 #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction

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ofstarsandvibranium · 1 year ago

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Little Mic Interviews

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Roy Kent x GN!Reader

Summary: You bring Roy's niece on for a social media campaign that you're sure everyone will love. Based off my imagine here.

You meet Roy in his office for lunch and you're practically bouncing off the walls.

He raises a brow at you in confusion, "What's got you all giddy?"

You giggle and move to sit on Roy's lap, "I proposed a social media campaign to Keeley and Rebecca and they loved it!"

"That's...good?"

You nod, "Yes, very good! The next thing I need to do is talk to your sister."

Roy looks at you even more confused, "My sister? Why?"

You're grinning, "I want Phoebe to work with me on this so, obviously, I need your sister's permission."

Your boyfriend's eyes squint at you in suspicion, "Should I be concerned?"

"Nope! It'll be fine. Fun even! I think the guys will enjoy it. So I'll chat with Phoebs and your sister later tonight. Hopefully, they'll both say yes."

____________________

The next weekend, Roy brings Phoebe to work. When they enter your office, you and Phoebe squeal, running into each other's arms.

"Fuckin' weirdos," Roy grumbles, but with a smile on his face.

You snicker, "Hi, lovey," you peck Roy's lips, and then proceed to push him towards the door, "And out you go because us girls need to get ready!"

Once Roy is out the door, he turns back around, "I'll see you at lunch though, yeah?"

"Of course," you peck his lips again, "Love you. See you in bit."

"Love you," he murmurs and looks over your shoulder, "You behave, got it?"

Phoebe smiles up at her uncle, "I will, Uncle Roy!"

"Good," he says with a nod and leaves you two be.

You clap your hands together and bring Phoebe to the other side of your desk, "Alright, Phoebs, let's brainstorm on the types of questions you'll ask the boys!"

_____________________

You and Phoebe walk out to the pitch an hour later with your work phone, a clipboard, a tripod, and a few bluetooth mini mics for Phoebe and the lads to use.

You nod to Beard and Nate, "Afternoon!"

Beard tips his hat, "Y/N."

Nate waves, "Hi, Y/N. Hi, Phoebe. Whatcha got there?"

"We're going to interview the guys!" Phoebe replies excitingly.

"Yup. Phoebs, came up with all sorts of questions for them so this is going to be veeeeery interesting." You look at your clipboard, "Alright, so we'll have the team captain up first." You look at Phoebe, "Mind grabbing Isaac for us, love?"

"Okay!" the young girl immediately rushes to the pitch towards her Uncle Roy. You watch as Roy looks down at her and they have a short conversation until Roy yells out, "ISAAC! YOU'RE UP FIRST!"

Isaac's head shoots up and starts lightly jogging to Phoebe. He's escorted by the young girl to where you've set up your phone and tripod.

"Hi, Isaac," you smile at the team captain."

"'Sup. Roy said you're interviewin' us for the socials, yeah?"

"Yup! And Phoebe will be conducting the interview. I'm just behind the camera and will butt in if needed," you go over to hand him and Phoebe a tiny mic that's already connected to your phone.

"Okay, Phoebs, whenever you're ready!" you give her a thumbs up and press record.

Phoebe immediately looks up to the team captain, "Isaac, why do you look grumpy all the time?" You over your mouth to keep you from laughing.

Isaac looks confused, "I don't look grumpy. I thought that was Roy's thing."

"You and my Uncle Roy both look grumpy a lot. Are you a grumpy person?"

"...no, this is just my face?"

Phoebe shrugs, "Okay! What do you prefer: unicorns or faeries?"

"Hm..." Isaac pauses to really think about it, "Unicorns are cool. I could probably ride one, yeah?"

"Good answer," Phoebe nods in approval. She then looks to you and gives a thumbs up, "I think we're good, Y/N!"

You chuckle, "Alright, Phoebs." You stop the recording and nod at Isaac, "Thanks, Isaac!"

"Sick," he says and jogs back to wear the rest of the guys are practicing.

"Alright, love, can you grab Dani for me?"

"Okay!" Phoebe runs off to grab the footballer and it continues to go that way as each interview comes and goes. Her questions were always very random:

"What do you use for your hair?"

"What are your thoughts on the new Disney movie?"

"How important do you think math is in football?"

The second to last interview: Jamie.

"How's it, Phoebs?" Jamie gives her a fist bump and she's beaming.

"Great! Okay, my question for you is: can you come to my birthday party? My friends don't believe that you and Uncle Roy are best friends. Also because my classmate Joanna doesn't believe that I know you and I want to wave it in her face that I do!"

Jamie chuckles, "'Course I'll come to your birthday party. Your my best friend's niece after all," he gives her a wink and they high five.

You snort as Jamie walks off and Roy comes forward, "Alright, you finished?"

"Actually, you're the last one we need to interview," you say with a smile.

"Me? Why the fuck would you want to interview me?"

You playfully roll your eyes at your boyfriend, "Phoebe wants to interview you. So go on, be a good uncle."

He frowns and walks over to Phoebe in front of your phone. He grimaces at the tiny mic she hands to him, "Why the fuck is this so small?"

You chuckle and shake your head, "Just get on with it!"

Phoebe smiles up at her uncle, "Hi Uncle Roy!"

"Hi."

"So my question for you is: when are you and Y/N getting married?"

Roy whips his head to you and you're laughing, "I swear I didn't tell her to ask that! Phoebe, ask him a different question!"

He shakes his head, "No, no. I'll answer it, but you can't hear."

Roy bends down and whispers his answer in Phoebe's ear. You and Roy have been together for quite some time and you love each other very much. You've talked about marriage in the past a few times, but you still weren't sure that's what Roy wanted, at least with you. But fuck did you want to marry him.

Phoebe is giggling and Roy is smirking as he straightens, "Alright, anymore questions?"

"Yes, can we get ice cream after this?"

You snort, "Of course, Phoebs, since you did an amazing job."

"Yes!"

You quickly clean up and the three of you head to your office to drop of your things and then you head to the ice cream shop.

________________

The following weeks, you start to post the interviews on the AFC Richmond socials. They're a hit, earning thousands of views and likes. But the one that really got people going was Roy's interview.

"Why'd you post that? Didn't seem very entertaining or anythin'." Roy says as you show him the post.

"I beg to differ, babe. Look at the comments! Everyone loves how you are with Phoebe."

"Now people won't take me all seriously."

"Highly doubt that. Those brows of fury will set them straight," you run your finger along one of his brows.

He snorts and pulls you closer, "You wanna know my answer to Phoebe's question though?"

You shake your head, "Nah."

He cocks a brow, "You sure?"

"I'm sure," you cuddle closer to him, resting your head against his chest.

The weight in Roy's pocket feels heavy now, but it will definitely lighten up soon.

#roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #gn!reader #gender neutral!reader

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its-time-to-write · 2 years ago

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three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah but-”

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, are you breaking up with me?”

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

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

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

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

I want to be with you forever.

—

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“Why would Bumbercatch steal them?” you ask.

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

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

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

—

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

“Thanks for coming with me,” Jamie says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jamie,” you say.

“Yes, love,” he replies.

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

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

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

“Love of my life,” Jamie begins.

“Yes,” you say.

“Oi, you’ve gotta let me finish.”

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

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

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

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

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

You find his hand amid the chaos and squeeze it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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illiterateaffairs · 2 years ago

Text

DISTRACTIONS III | YOU’RE KINDA CUTE

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 5,528

summary: so you’ve just had a one night stand with one of the star footballers on the team you work for. you can be totally normal about it, right?

A/N: ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO IS READING AND LEAVING THE NICEST AND FUNNIEST COMMENTS, I ADORE YOU ALL! this is kind of a long one, and i finally dip into jamie’s POV, which I’ll do more in the upcoming chapters. also as you can tell, this series takes place in season 3, but very loosely. like, roy is just going to have to deal with sharing jamie with the reader and not hogging him for training :)

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

Waking up the next morning is harder than you thought it would be. It's not because of the champagne flutes you were knocking back at Sam’s restaurant. In fact, you feel the most comfortable and well rested you have in a long time. It’s because of this that you absolutely loathe the idea of opening your eyes and getting out of bed when your alarm goes off at 7AM. Instinctually, you’re quick to turn off the grating noise, but when you begrudgingly try to sit up, you’re held down by a weight you don’t recognize. Opening one eye, you see it’s a person and their arm is wrapped securely around you. And not just any person; Jamie fucking Tartt.

After pushing through your grogginess, you’re able to recall the events of last night; driving home with Jamie, kissing him and inviting him inside, sleeping with him. It was so out of character for you to hook up with a guy you barely knew. Sure, Jamie wasn’t a stranger and he wasn’t a complete jerk, but normally you wouldn’t even consider having sex until at least the third date. Not that you were planning on dating Jamie. That would be absurd.

You didn’t regret it though. If there was one thing about Jamie’s reputation that he could be proud of, it was that he was indeed good in bed. Excellent even. It's probably why you slept so well last night. Even if Jamie came off as a bit self-centered, he definitely wasn’t when it came to knowing how to please you.

Your eyes narrow, flashing back to a brief moment last night after the two of you finished round three. Did you say…thank you? God, you hope it was just something you thought in the haze of it all before falling asleep.

Brushing past that, you angle yourself toward him more, as well as you can pinned under his left arm. Your eyes scan his face as he sleeps soundly beside you. He didn’t seem at all disturbed by your phone alarm a few moments ago. You’re not used to seeing the man so relaxed, because when you’re with him he’s either focused on playing football or annoyed with Zava. But right now he looks at peace. Glancing over, you also take note of his sleeve tattoo for the first time, tracing the designs on his arms lightly with your fingers. You’re once again confronted with the fact that you know so little about this man, and yet here you were in one of the most intimate situations you can be with a person. Observing his face again, you wonder what the two of you will do now. Jamie’s probably done this a million times, but you certainly haven’t. And you work together; you’ll see him everyday.

You’re momentarily pulled from your anxious thoughts as Jamie lets out a long, quiet breath, but doesn’t wake. For a second, you’re distracted by how cute you find him in this moment. No. No. You are not getting attached to Jamie. This was a one time thing. That's all you wanted. That’s probably all he ever wanted. And you’re in no shape for a relationship right now.

You take the risk to test just how heavy of a sleeper Jamie is, sliding out from beneath his arm. You mentally cheer when he just rolls over and continues sleeping. You quickly throw on a robe and some clean underwear before tiptoeing out of the room. In an effort to calm your nerves ahead of an impending conversation when he does wake up, you decide to make breakfast. Normally on work mornings you’d settle for something light, like toast or oatmeal. However, those meals will not take long enough to provide ample distraction from your racing thoughts. So, you decide in addition to toast that you’ll make some omelets. And bacon for good measure; Jamie probably likes bacon. You also wash some fruit because why the hell not.

Everything is plated on your kitchen table when you hear movement from back in your bedroom. You’re pouring yourself a glass of juice when Jamie wanders into the room, buttoning up his shirt from last night. Before turning to face him, you psych yourself up and plaster a smile on your face. Be casual. However, once the two of you make eye contact, you both freeze and say nothing.

After a few seconds of silence that feel like hours, you force words to come out of your mouth.

“Apple juice?” Nice.

Jamie’s head jerks back in surprise, but a barely there smile forms on his face. “Apple juice? That’s what you’re offering?”

You shrug, deciding to push past how bizarre this is and try to roll with it, “What? It's the superior juice. Sorry I don’t have tea. I don’t really know how to make it- or care to- since, you know, it's disgusting.”

Jamie laughs softly, but gives you a curious look. You must’ve not done a good job at acting normal, because it seems he caught onto your nervousness, “You alright?”

You let your shoulders drop and decide to be honest, “I’m sorry, I just…I’ve never had a one night stand before.”

Jamie quirks an eyebrow, “You don’t say?”

You smile in spite of yourself, “I know, such a shocker, right?”

The footballer takes a moment to glance at the table behind you, “Well, first thing you should know is that most people don’t make breakfast for their one night stands.”

Despite saying that, Jamie takes a seat at your table and starts chewing on a strip of bacon. You roll your eyes playfully, but join him.

“I cook when I’m nervous,” not letting him linger on that admission you question him, “What about you? Do people usually stay the night after a one night stand?”

Jamie smiles through mouthfuls of egg and cheese. “Are you kicking me out?”

“No!” You assure too quickly, “I guess I’m just wondering what you’re thinking. And wondering how I’m going to look you in the eye at work to be honest. Like I said, I don't usually do this kind of thing.”

“I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about. And I promise it won’t be weird. We can just carry on and keep making fun of how annoyed Roy gets at Ted’s jokes.”

You let yourself laugh as you push a grape around your plate with your fork.

“But last night was okay?” Jamie asks, showing his first hint of unsureness, “It was good for you, yeah?

“Oh yeah,” you nod eagerly, touched that he was a little nervous too, “Last night was…really great.”

“Good,” he smiles again, “Just want to make sure it was at least a step up from the last guy.”

You snort, “Try five steps. At least.” You turn back to Jamie and a satisfied smirk is growing on his face, “Oh, don’t let that go to your head. That is not a difficult accomplishment, trust me.”

“Well, like I said, it’s good you left him.” You nod in agreement.

The two of you chat for a few more minutes as you finish up your breakfast. You get up, wanting to grab a shower before work.

“Can I walk you out?” you ask.

Jamie shakes his head, “I think I remember the way.”

You nod with a tiny smile as he heads toward the kitchen doorway, “So, I’ll see you at the club then later, probably?”

“You will.”

You bid each other a goodbye, but as you turn to put your dishes in the sink, Jamie speaks up again.

“Oh, and one more thing. You’re welcome.” Jamie shoots you a wink before leaving you alone.

Fuck, I did say that out loud.

You know you’re being paranoid but it feels like everyone is staring at you when you arrive at the club later that morning. There is no reason anyone would know that you hooked up with Jamie last night but you can’t help but feel your face get hot as you pass coworkers on your way through the halls. You’re so in your head that you fully run into Sam on the way to your office. You can hardly meet his eye as he enthusiastically greets you.

“I hope you slept well last night.”

“What?” your eyes bulge in panic and you laugh awkwardly, “Why would you ask that?”

Sam gives you a weird look, “When you were leaving, you said you had been exhausted so I was just wondering if you were more rested today.”

You relax; you did say that. “Oh, right. Yes, thank you, I slept great last night. Amazingly. Not too amazing. Just a normal good night's sleep. Snug in my bed. Alone.”

Sam still seems confused by your energy, but nevertheless smiles again. He seems none the wiser as he jogs off to the locker rooms before training. However, once he’s out of your view, your eyes lock onto Rebecca’s who had been watching on from behind him. Her expression lets on that she’s definitely onto you.

“Good morning,” she greets pleasantly, with a mischievous look, “Can I walk you to your office?”

You don’t even try to argue as you lead her down the hallway in silence. You try not to roll your eyes as she makes a show of getting comfortable on the couch in your office.

She wastes no time once you shut the door. “So, you had sex last night.”

You groan, lightly pressing your head to your office door, “How could you possibly know that?”

“I always know,” Rebecca shrugs, “You look a lot less tense today.”

You turn to her sharply, “You’re saying I looked tense before?”

“Not in a bad way. You just look lighter today. And very suspicious.”

You walk over to her, crossing your arms. “Okay fine. I slept with someone. But I’m not telling you who it was.”

Rebecca stares at you for all of five seconds before she says, “Jamie?”

You let out an exasperated sigh as you plop down on the couch, burying your face in a cushion, “How do you do that?”

The blonde woman gasps and sits up a bit straighter, “I was going to say it's a gift, but maybe it's a curse. Jamie was just a hunch, since he left the restaurant last night a couple minutes after you did. You actually had sex with Jamie Tartt?”

You peek out at her from behind the pillow, “Yes?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighs.

“What's so wrong about that?” you move to sit up, hugging the pillow to your chest. “I haven’t been with anyone since Mason, and the opportunity presented itself with Jamie. Don’t I deserve a good time every once in a while?”

“Of course but with Jamie?”

“He’s not that bad,” you protest softly.

Rebecca nods, “I know that. Jamie is a good guy. I just wonder if he’s good for you. When he was with Keeley-”

“Oh, my God, he dated Keeley?” you gasp, covering your face with the pillow again. Muffled you murmur, “Is she going to hate me?”

“No, Keeley will not hate you,” Rebecca assures, playing with a few pieces of your hair to coax you back up to her, “I’m sure she could care less what Jamie does. That’s my point - he was not a good boyfriend when they were together.

“Well, that’s my point. I’m not looking for a boyfriend. It was just a one time thing. I just needed to distract myself from spiraling over Mason.”

Rebecca still feels unsure, but she gives you a tight smile and nods. “That's fair.” She reaches out to take your hand, “I know you don’t like talking about it, but if you ever need to vent or talk through anything regarding your breakup, I’m always here. You know that I get what all that's like.”

You smile, giving her hand a squeeze. “I know. I appreciate it, but I think I’m alright for now.”

“Good.”

“One more thing though. Can you not tell…”

“I promise I will not tell Ted.”

You grimace, “Okay, him too. I was actually going to say Keeley. I know that's asking a lot since she’s your best friend, but I don’t want to risk losing her friendship over a dumb one night stand.”

Rebecca gives you another reassuring smile, “I won’t tell her either.”

“Thank you.”

“Just call me Rebecca Welton: keeper of your secrets.”

“Oh, my God, I am so sorry.” you sigh, “I need to stop doing things I don’t want other people to know.”

Rebecca laughs, squeezing your hand one last time before standing up, “You are fine. You’re young. You’re allowed to be messy and have secrets.” She smooths out her attire as she grabs the doorknob. “But you need to relax and stop acting so weird around the office. You had sex, so what? That's not a bad thing. You don’t need to shout it from the rooftops but you can be proud of it.”

“I’ll do my best,” you laugh. She nods encouragingly before heading out the door.

You do feel yourself walk with your head held a bit higher after that.

The rest of your work day goes a lot better. You help Rebecca with some paperwork, shadow the team during training, and round out the evening by having dinner in your office with Ted. The only time you saw Jamie was during their practice. He didn’t act out of the ordinary, so you didn’t either, both of you exchanging polite smiles like you always did.

You don’t notice the way he looks over at you a few times between drills.

Now you and Keeley were headed to the locker rooms, with coffees in hand, to assist Shandy with the Bantr video shoot. You’re proud that you play it totally cool and don’t manage to accidentally confess you’d hooked up with her ex last night.

As if Father Time knew when you were coming, Jamie is the next player to hop in front of the camera. You smile unconsciously as he gets touch ups, before snapping yourself out of it to refocus on the conversation Shandy and Keeley were having. It was about Jamie of course.

You start to find your cardboard coffee cup really interesting when Shandy comments on how attractive Jamie is. And you try not to sweat as Keeley starts listing off his red flags, only to follow up with comments about how he’s grown recently. You peak over at her as she looks at him on the monitor. Please, please don’t still have feelings for him. If you get back together I really won’t be able to look either of you in the eye.

“He only thinks with his dick,” Keeley muses jokingly before continuing thoughtfully, “Yet, I don’t think he’s seen anyone in ages.”

You busy yourself by taking a sip of coffee so you don’t pull a face.

Shandy gives Keeley a look, “I just want to know if I can bang him, babe.”

You almost choke on your drink.

“Oh,” Keeley manages a laugh, “I don’t know, you should probably ask him. It’s his dick.”

Shandy laughs along with her, nudging your arm. “What do you think?”

You try not to let your eyes become saucers. “Who, me?” She nods as if that's a dumb question - which it is. “I hardly know the guy. But like Keeley said, it's his dick. Consent is key.”

Shandy smirks, “Alright works for me. I’ll have to see what he’s doing later.”

You try not to be bothered by that.

Later, Keeley and Shandy let you head out while they close up shop on the shoot. Most of the team has cleared out, but you say goodnight to the few players you pass on the way back to your office to pick up your things. You’re caught off guard when you find Jamie waiting in one of the chairs in front of your desk.

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask curiously, shutting your door behind you. “Thought you left after you shot your promo.”

Jamie shook his head, “Nah, wanted to check on you first.”

That makes you feel nothing.

“Oh? Why?”

“I dunno. I knew you were feeling weird about everything this morning. Wanted to know how your day went.”

You smile softly at him, “I appreciate that.” You recall Rebecca’s pep talk this morning, “But, I’m feeling a lot better. In fact I feel great.”

“Good, you should,” Jamie smirks standing up, “And just so you know, I had a good time last night, too. You were also much better than the last girl I was with.”

You almost feel flattered, before your face twists in disgust, “Please don’t tell me that girl was Keely. Not that I need to know where I stand in comparison to Keeley, because I really do not, but I do feel weird knowing you two used to date.”

While Jamie is amused by your nervous rambling, he also appears a bit dejected at the mention of his ex, “No, Keeley was not the last person I was with. You also do not need to worry about that. Keeley could not give less of a shit what I do anymore, I’m sure.”

Both he and Rebecca made a similar comment to that effect. You’re dying to know more but you know it's none of your business. So you give him a reassuring smile instead, “Okay, cool. How was the rest of your day?”

Jamie shrugs, “Not as good as it started,” he winks, “but alright I guess. Roy has me doing extra training between practices now.”

You ignore his cheeky remark, “Really? That sounds awful.”

“S’not so bad. If I want to be the best player on the team, I got to put in the work.”

You nod thoughtfully, “Well if it means anything, and I'm sure it doesn’t since I don’t know shit about football, but I think you’re already pretty great.”

An unfamiliar expression casts over Jamie’s face as he blinks at you. He awkwardly breaks eye contact before responding, “Um, thank you.”

“‘Course,” you let the silence blanket the room for a bit before you’re making a comment you know you’ll regret later. “So, I think you were right. Shandy definitely does want to take a bite out of you.”

Jamie lets out a surprised huff, looking back up at you, “What? Why do you say that?”

“She was really enjoying your promo video earlier.”

Jamie hums, nodding. “And what did you think?”

You shrug innocently, “I thought it was fine.”

“Uh-huh. And if you saw me on Bantr, would you swipe right?”

“Not how that app works,” Jamie gives you a look and you give him one right back, “I think you already know my answer.”

“Hmm,” he smiled, pleased with himself.

“Would you-?”

“Swipe right on you? Thousand percent.”

“No,” you roll your eyes but bite back a smile, “On Shandy?”

“Oh.” he pauses, “Would it bother you if I did?”

You shake your head semi-quickly, “I’ll remind you, we just had a one night stand. I have no jurisdiction over any of your other nights.”

The side of Jamie’s lips quirk up, “Fair enough. Well, I will leave you to it then. I’d offer to drive you, but I have to meet Roy soon for another training session and he’ll be even more grumpy if I’m late.”

“You’re going to train again?” you ask in disbelief as he opens your office door.

“Yeah.”

“God, I can’t even get myself to work out once a week.”

“I dunno, you were pretty athletic last night.”

You groan, shoving him through the door, “Okay, get the fuck out of here, Tartt.”

“I’m really glad we can joke about this.”

“Get out!”

He laughs as he strolls down the hallway and around the corner, you unable to not watch as he goes.

You can’t help but note he never confirmed or denied interest in Shandy. Once again, you try not to be bothered by it.

When you leave a few minutes later, though, you catch Shandy and Keeley in the parking lot, and note that Jamie’s car is already gone. This time, you try not to be pleased with this information.

On Saturday, you join Rebecca and Keeley in a suite for Richmond’s match against West Ham. You learned this match was a big deal for two reasons.

One: Rebecca’s ex-husband, Rupert, owned the club. As soon as Rebecca introduces him when you run into him and his new wife, Bex, a chill runs down your spine. Even through forced pleasantries, he just oozes sliminess.

Two: Their head coach used to be an assistant coach for Richmond; Nathan Shelley. A few weeks after you moved, Beard informed you that the man blew up at Ted for some reason. That was only after he leaked information to the press about Ted having a panic attack during the game. Beard made you swear you wouldn’t tell Ted that he’d told you this. Not because Ted wouldn’t want you know about his anxiety; you’d actually had a sweet conversation with him after the news broke last year, even confiding in him about your own mental health struggles. But Beard knew that Ted wouldn’t want you worrying about the Nate situation. So you promised his best friend you wouldn’t mention it.

That still didn’t stop you from rooting for his- and Rupert’s- imminent demise. On the field, of course.

You sneak away from Rebecca and Keeley to grab some locker room footage for AFC Richmond’s socials. When you arrive in the doorway, you look to Ted for a signal that everyone is decent before entering. The energy in the room immediately feels different than usual, especially following their win streak. You know they’re going into today’s game with something to prove. You knock on a locker softly to grab their attention and two dozen pairs of eyes land on you.

“Hey boys. I don’t want to keep you, but would a few of you be open to doing some videos for our stories?”

A few team members including Sam, Zoreaux (who’s going by Van Damme now), and Jamie for some reason kindly volunteer, and you pull them off to the side. One by one, you have the boys record a video on how they’re feeling about today’s match, that you’ll post to Instagram. You don’t know if you do it on purpose or not, but you save Jamie for last. You hope he doesn’t notice the cadence. Now, just the two of you, he flashes you a grin before you record his segment.

“Can I see?” he asks after you’re done, “Got to make sure you’ve got my angles right.”

You snort, but nod him over to look at your phone. You hold your breath momentarily as he leans in next to you. Nodding after the video replays, he turns to look at you, your faces inches apart.

“Looks good.”

“Yeah,” you breath out, “You’re a one take wonder.”

His lips turn into a smirk. Neither of you say anything for a while, as your eyes study each other's faces. You wonder what he’s thinking. You know what you’re thinking; his eyes are somehow really pretty in this terrible fluorescent locker room lighting.

You blink for maybe the first time in sixty seconds as you hear Ted calling for the team to huddle up for a pre-game pep talk.

“That’s my cue,” you whisper. “Good luck out there today, Jamie.”

His smirk melts into a genuine smile, “Thank you.”

You return the gesture before pulling yourself out of his orbit. You skip past the rest of the team, wishing them all luck. Beard and Ted give you nods and you high five Sam on the way out.

Back in Rebecca’s suite, you join her, Keeley, Higgins and some of Keeley’s coworkers. One of them turns out to own the company that finance’s Keely’s PR firm, Jack. After sipping on some drinks, your group settles into your box seats. You clock Rupert a couple boxes over. Glancing at Rebecca, you see that she’s noticed the same thing. You subtly squeeze her hand and lean over.

“No matter what happens today, he’s still going to be the only loser between the two of you.” you quip softly.

You’re pleased when you see her visibly relax. She gives you a grateful smile and squeezes your hand back.

Unfortunately, her relaxed state doesn’t last very long. At half time West Ham is up by one. The match had been tough to watch. At one point, Richmond had the opportunity to score, had Jamie passed to Zava, but you felt your stomach twist when Jamie went for the goal himself and ended up missing. You could understand why he did it, but you wanted to see them win this game. You knew he and the whole team must be feeling the pressure three times as much as you were. You never thought you’d care this much about sports.

You and your friends try to make small talk while the teams regroup in the locker room, but everyone’s still feeling the stress of the game. Rebecca had even left to go who-knows-where to shake off her anxieties. Although, you get a moment of reprieve when Keeley asks Shandy if she’d gone out with Jamie yet, and the girl exasperatedly informs everyone that he turned her down. You manage not to outwardly smile.

Everyone in your section is immediately alert a few minutes later when both teams start making their way back to the pitch. West Ham enters first, energy high, followed by the Greyhounds who look…less than thrilled. You can feel the tension radiating off of them from your seat, as they all seem to throw death glares at Nate.

You’re not sure what happened in the locker room to cause this shift in attitude, but you hoped it meant they’d play tougher this half.

Oh how wrong you were.

The team was practically feral, pushing, shoving and literally throwing the West Ham players to the ground. You found yourself wincing on multiple occasions at the violence. You were shocked that even Sam was engaging in the aggression. By the end of the game, Richmond was down half their players and lost the match 4 to 1.

You can barely comprehend what you just witnessed. After digesting everything, and hopefully giving everyone time to cool down, you let Keeley know you’d meet her and Rebecca out front, Rebecca having already vacated the suite, mumbling expletives in her wake. You head down to the locker room again to find the team in what could only be described as different states of denial. They also looked a bit…ashamed.

As if sensing your presence, Jamie’s eyes snap up and land on your figure. Despite the fact that he feels like absolute shit right now, seeing you alleviates half of his stress. He nearly stands to meet you in the doorway, when Sam approaches you and you engulf him in a hug. Jamie’s nervous energy shifts into a feeling he doesn’t recognize. All he knows is he wishes there was someone that could comfort him after this loss, or any loss, really. But he doesn’t have the relationship with you that you do with Sam. Maybe if you got to know each other better, you’d consider him a closer friend; one you’d go to when you knew he felt shitty. One he could go to when he wanted to talk about something. Anything. But you weren’t those kinds of friends yet. He briefly wonders if you even consider him a friend, but he’s not lingering on that thought right now.

He tries not to stare as you continue talking to Sam, before Sam leaves to hit the showers. You exchange what he imagines are words of affirmation with Colin and Isaac, too, before you’re heading back to the door. You pause and turn around again, eyes scanning the room before they land on his, as if that were their destination. He lifts his head out of its place in his hand. You only give him a sad smile and a head nod before you’re turning around again. You nearly run into Ted when you do. He watches as you and Ted exchange words briefly, before you squeeze the coach's arm and disappear around the corner.

Jamie sighs. You’ve had sex with him and all he gets is a fucking head nod, while Ted Lasso gets a pat on the arm.

He doesn’t think the day can get much worse, until Zava sashays into the room, with a disappointed look plastered across his face. He doesn’t waste any time hiding his frustrations with the team for their actions in the second half, as if he’s never done anything wrong in his life. Jamie rolls his eyes and heads to the showers himself.

Jamie slugs through the rest of the evening in a daze. He barely registers going from the match to the bus, and then back to his home. He tries to find something on TV to distract himself from his anxious energy, but he can’t focus on anything. He briefly considers going out to some bar or club, but he’s really not in the mood. He settles on texting Roy to see if he’s up for a late night workout, but for some reason the guy chooses tonight to be a reasonable human being and tells Jamie to take the night off.

He’s pacing around his living room when he gets one last idea. It's not a great idea, and he’s definitely going to regret it, regardless if it went well or not. But before he can talk himself out of it, he’s grabbing his keys and slamming his front door shut.

You’re camped out on your couch as one of your favorite The Nanny reruns plays on the TV. You find yourself zoning out, though, replaying the events of the match.

Sam had given you insight on what went down with him and the team. He informed you during half time, they learned that Nate had destroyed the Believe sign that hung in their locker room. While ripping a piece of paper hardly seemed like a reason to go full attack-mode, you understood when Sam explained that the sign, and Ted’s belief system, had been what began to unite them as a team a couple years ago. Your heart warmed at how much Ted clearly meant to Sam and the team, and while their methods may have not been perfect, you admired how protective they were over your uncle.

You wonder how Jamie’s taking it. Even though you’ve become a lot more comfortable around him, you still felt awkward approaching him in the locker room in front of the team. But you secretly longed to ask how he was. Despite not knowing a whole lot about him, he always seemed especially attached to Ted, so you could only imagine how he’d taken everything this afternoon. Although, you don’t remember him participating in most of the fighting. He’d just played a bit more aggressively.

You’re typing and retyping a text to Jamie, figuring out the best way to check in without seeming invasive. Before you have the chance to debate your words any longer, there’s a knock on your door. Your heart rate spikes. Who the hell would be knocking on your door at 10PM? You slowly approach the door, your mind making up some crap about London being a crime-free city to put your anxieties at ease. You quietly peek through the peep-hole. Letting out a loud sigh of relief, you unlock the door and pull it open.

“Jamie, what are you doing here? Are you okay?”

The footballer gives you a once over before shaking his head decidedly, “No.”

Worried, you part your mouth to respond, but don’t get the chance when he’s suddenly cupping your face and kissing you, firmly but gently. Your hands automatically find his arms to steady yourself, as the two of you stumble further into your apartment. You kiss him back for a few more seconds, before parting slightly.

“Jamie,” you whisper in question against his lips.

“I’m sorry, I know you wanted this to be a one time thing but do you think you can make an exception tonight?” he breathes heavily, nestling his forehead to yours, “Today was shit and I just, I need…”

You nod furiously, not needing him to continue, “I know, it's okay.” You kiss him once, twice. “I can do a two-time thing.”

He huffs out a laugh in relief before pulling you closer for an even more passionate kiss. He kicks your door shut before pushing you in the direction of your bedroom.

Later that night when you’re both coming down from your highs, and Jamie’s laying on top of you, with his head buried in your neck, you hear him whisper cheekily, “Thank you.”

Leave it to Jamie to make you flush with embarrassment and laugh out loud, as your naked bodies tangle together.

What a fucking prick.

A/N: CAN’T WAIT TO HEAR WHAT Y’ALL THINK! also this gif, hello??

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt x f!reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #mine #distractions series

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eatommo · 7 months ago

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Coach [r.k.]{kd12}

Dirty talk / breath play

Cw: coach!Roy Kent, coworkers, inappropriate use of coach, lots of kissing, p in v, teasing, swearing, rough sex, mentions of shower sex, implied age gap (though not large), mutual pining

Moving across the world to chase a childhood dream, per request of your brother’s football coach, had been working out so far.

Futbol had always been your passion, you would get up at odd hours to watch your favorite teams, and your favorite player perform, even begging for channel packages so you could watch matches live. So when Coach Lasso offered you a position on his coaching staff for Richmond, the landing place for your favorite grumpy futbol player, you jumped on it.

Ted had an incredible ability to make everyone around him cherish life a little bit more every single day and life in England really did cast a spell on your small town American heart.

Roy, had been full of surprises himself. You and your dad used to bond over his no nonsense attitude, and his passion that was evident in the way he left his entire life on the pitch every single game, even the occasional meltdown.

Meeting him had been difficult at first, but during your first conversation you quickly established yourself as something more than a baseball fan, or as he put it so nonchalantly “a pretty face.”

You always had a crush on him, sure he was a bit older than you but his personality was addicting, and the subtle nuances of his love for the boys didn’t go unnoticed. You once watched him talk Danny through his emotions after a movie night where the team had gathered together to watch When Harry Met Sally. He helped Jamie grow to his full potential, albeit through gritted teeth, but he did it because as shy as he was to admit it, Richmond had become his home.

“Mmmmm.” Roy Grumbled as he walked into the coaches office. You sitting at your desk on the other side of the room from him, his fist clenched as he threw himself into a chair across from you with a grunt.

“What happened this time?” You half expected some Blaise excuse like his car getting dinged by the kitmans bike.

He looked across the desk at you, giving you a small eye roll. Mumbling back at you, he replied. “Players. Don’t show up properly to train. Don’t focus on the exercise, just a pain in my ass really.”

You hum in agreement, “I know, if only we were still allowed to bend them over a desk maybe you could return the favor.” You taunt, with just a hint of warmth in your cheeks, unable to stop the out of pocket phrase.

“If only.” He joked back to you, his grumpy tone now changed to something more lighthearted with a small grin. “I swear sometimes they try to do this stuff on purpose just to mess with me- And what am I even supposed to do with a player who can’t even get their kit on right. Sam had his shirt on backwards, the hell are we supposed to do with that?” He let out a frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair.

You chuckle, “Do you really think they do it on purpose just to fuck with you? I know I enjoy watching you get all grumbly.” Mumble with just a hint of suggestiveness in your voice, but shifting your attention back to the tape you’re cutting into a highlight reel for tomorrow’s practice.

“They better not be doing it on purpose.” He huffed and crossed his arms. “Or I swear I’ll be out there making them do extra drills after their extra drills. I swear if they wanna mess with me they’re really not gonna like my attitude tomorrow.” He leaned forward, and given the threatening tone his voice still never raised at you. He was always respectful of your space, and never would do anything to intimidate you on purpose.

You smile, clearly enjoying the grumpiness of him today, and tease him just a hair further, “Easy old man, I don’t want you to waste all that energy on the boys.” I say in a coy and insinuating to save some for me with a short pause, before continuing “We have a yoga class we can’t miss.”

His eyes widened for a brief moment, surprised by the comment and the tone you used. He could tell your were teasing, but it didn’t stop the thought from popping into his mind about saving energy for you. “Oh shush.” He replied, his tone trying to act as if he was unaffected, but the way his breath went a little faster said otherwise, “I’m looking forward to it.”

You’ve been flirting with each other for weeks, getting along better than most people typically do with Roy at least right off the bat, and the reality of it is you think when Roy is sexy when he’s angry. “Everyone needs an outlet for stress, I like yoga among other things.”

He let out a breath, his arms still crossed as he looked at you across the room. “I swear we’re supposed to be professional.” He mumbled with a bit of a chuckle and rolling his eyes, as he knew both him and you weren’t exactly doing the best job at being professional.

You smile knowingly, “I have reason to believe we wouldn’t be the first ones to break that rule.” I look at him up and down, not trying to hide my intention anymore, watching the veins in his neck strain, longing to make them pop.

He raised an eyebrow, listening to your suggestion. He couldn’t deny that the idea was tempting, and it would definitely relieve some of the frustration he had. He stared at you for a moment, considering the suggestion, before finally speaking. “Are you propositioning me?” He smirked, crossing his arms again with a raised eyebrow, still playing a bit coy, but the twist of his mouth is stuck in place.

You shrug, simply stating, “You know how much I like you, I think we’d have good chemistry off the pitch.”

He chuckled a bit at your words, the idea of ‘relieving stress’ with you becoming even more tempting. He knew that there was chemistry, everyone could tell in the locker room. The way you always seemed to make him laugh and feel lighter, while also managing to send his heart race with your playful teasing. He was tempted, not for the first time. He smirked again and tilted his head to the side. “You think so?” He taunted, his voice low. Leaning just a bit closer to your desk.

You hum again, standing slowly and circling the desk, perching on the edge and getting a close as you’ve ever been to him apart from a few celebratory hugs during matches. “You know what helps me relax?”

He smirked, the sound you made already sending a chill down his spine. He was already sold on the idea, but seeing you move to the front of the desk and letting out that phrase definitely sealed the deal. He walked closer to you slowly, moving around the desk until he was standing in front of you. “Enlighten me.” He said smoothly.

“A nice warm shower…” you reach out slowly, giving him every opportunity to move before you touch his chest gently with a lifted eyebrow in question.

He let out a breath as you reached out, his heart beginning to pound in his chest at the idea of finally getting to do something with you. He watched you closely, eyes following your hand to his chest. He had no intention of moving, wanting to keep this going.

A small smirk appeared on his face as he watched you. “A nice warm shower,” He said, taking another step forward.

He chuckled softly, leaning forward slightly, so he was standing right in front of you. “You are a tease, you know that?” He said in a low tone, his hands going to the edge of the desk on either side of you, caging you against it. “A right little tease.”

Him being so close to you is intoxicating, you can smell the oil he puts in his beard, he smells like sage and sweat. Your breath picking up as the anticipation of his touch draws closer, you look down into his dark brown eyes.

The sight of you enjoying this was almost enough to make him snap. He leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your face. “You like getting this reaction out of me, don’t you? Teasing me, making me want you?” He murmured, voice low and rough.

“Yes,” you pant, your hands twisting in your lap. “I have a feeling you’re rough in all aspects of your life.”

He chuckled breathlessly, his heart pounding even faster as you confirmed his suspicions. God, the thought of the two of you doing other things together was almost enough to make his brain short circuit. He took a moment to regain his focus, trying to respond in a way that wasn’t just a bunch of stutters and breathless words. “Is that right?” He replied softly. “You’re just dying to know the reaction you’d get from me in other situations, ehh?”

I smirk, leaning forward so our lips brush ever so slightly breathless, “So how about that shower?”

The slight brush of lips alone was enough to send a shiver down his spine. God, he was already a mess, and it was all your fault. He could feel the desire and need running through his veins. He let out a short huff, his hands gripping the edge of the desk tighter. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He whispered huskily. “Let’s go.”

Your faces meet, coming together in a clash of teeth and hunger, your lips moving against each others in a frenzy.

Roy groaned into the kiss, his hands quickly moving from the desk to grip your hips as your mouths pressed together. He allowed you to dominate the kiss for a moment, letting you lick into his mouth, his eyes closing as he enjoyed it.

After a moment, he began to grow more aggressive, his tongue meeting yours hungrily and his hands pulling you closer against him. You groan eagerly, feeling the tight grip on his hands all over your body. Partially wondering if you’ll even make it off your desk.

He let out another quiet moan as your hands moved to grip his hair, the feeling sending a spark of pleasure through him. He broke the kiss for a moment, only to begin trailing kisses up and down your jawline.

He nipped and sucked the skin, leaving a trail of love bites along the side of your neck. One of his large, rough hands snuck up under the hem of your shirt, wanting to feel your skin.

His hands are calloused and warm, and part of you should care that he’s leaving a trail of marks in the wake of his mouth but if you weren’t lying the idea of wearing these mark, his marks, in front of so many people makes your pussy throb in need.

Roy’s hands come down to your hips, squeezing and pushing more of his body against yours, you can feel the hard outline of his need in his trousers.

Roy runs a hand over your ribs, and you shudder in response. “How much longer is training?” You say, as you throw your head back and begin kicking off your shoes.

“Half hour, then Beard is holding a checkers competition in the team room.” He lifts your shirt up and over your head, “we’ve got your office to ourselves for at least an hour, we’ll have to be quiet to keep the kit man away,” he kisses you again, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra,”You can be a good girl and keep quiet yeah?”

“Yes coach.” You pull away, to free him from his shirt, and pressing your chests together. “Tell me what you wanna do to me.”

“Fucking minx.” He swears fingers finding your nipple and tugging on it harshly, “Filthy fucking thing calling me coach.” His eyes are dark with desire, breath hot and full of desire. “I’m gonna fuck you on this desk.”

His fingers dip into the waistband of your joggers, grabbing fistfuls of your ass as he envelops you with his mouth again. You moan coach, against the press of his mouth.

As you repeat the title, calling him coach again, he groans against your skin. His hips press forward, practically grinding himself against you for a moment to get some much needed friction, a low hiss slipping from his lips. He pulls back, his breath coming out in short huffs as he looks you in the eye.

“Say it again. Keep calling me coach.” He practically growls out. He pushes your paperwork onto the floor, urging you to lay further back onto the desk and to give him space to remove your clothes.

You comply, leaning back and lifting your hips so that he can pull the soft material from your legs. Looking down between your legs he sees a sizable patch of wet fabric clinging to your skin.

“Fucking filthy girl, you want this cunt filled don’t you?” He lets the pad of his thumb tap your clit through the thin cloth of your panties, and your eyes all but roll back into your head.

You nod vigorously, feeling so hot and dazed, knuckles clinging to the edge of your desk. Catching a glimpse of the sizable bulge in his trousers, you reach down to slip your hand around him.

He continues to press a finger to your clit, and takes a hand and twists into your hair tugging from the root. You hiss in pain, squeezing his shaft in response to the pain, “Please coach.”

His resolve breaks, pushing the top of his trousers down just enough to let himself fall free. In a single breath the head of his cock is working you open and his hips saw back and forth stretching you around his size.

Once he’s bottomed out, he pauses for a moment. Taking in the way your mouth is parted in a pant, and the way the muscles in your legs quiver around his waist.

“You said rough yeah? Tell me if you need me to stop.” He said, sober as a saint for a second making sure to establish himself as in control but giving you what you need to feel comfortable.

You nod, biting your lip as he shifts his heels to angle his hips up, he hits something inside you that makes you squeak.

His large palm wraps around your throat, squeezing the artery there and making your brain lull into the field of pleasure he gives you.

#roy kent #Roy Kent smut #ted lasso #apple tv #brett goldstein #kinktober 2024

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rqgnarok · 2 years ago

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music to my eyes - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 4,266

warnings: spoilers for the season 3 finale of ted lasso, jamie being a lil self deprecating. reader uses female pronouns.

summary: jamie has a crush on the band’s bassist.

author’s note at the end!

Jamie’s so, so late.

Roy’s gonna have his balls. It’s the first training for the Queen’s Cup final against Tottenham– their first one without Ted, a little something before the freaking Champion’s League starts next year– and Jamie’s having the worst morning of his life.

He woke up late for his 4 am training that ran long, traffic was absolute shit and now he’s sprinting– not running, cause he’s not allowed to after he and Colin almost ran over the Prince of Denmark while racing each other to the locker room, a story for another day– down the hallway with Roy Kent’s fury just waiting to find its rightful owner.

He didn’t even have time to comb his hair today. It still looks amazing, but it’s the routine that matters. For his mental health or whatever.

Maybe that’s why he feels so jittery and doesn’t look where he’s going as he makes his way to the locker room. Jamie’s got his bag clutched to his chest and his headphones hanging around his neck, his jacket halfway on before he gave up and left it trailing down his side like a sad blanket.

He’s cursing whatever Gods control alarm clocks and traffic and hairbrushes when he knocks onto someone. It’s so forceful it sends them both to the ground with a grunt and a little ah! of surprise. Jamie tries not to grow annoyed and fails. He considers laying on the ground and becoming one with the carpet so he doesn’t face Roy’s justified punishment and sighs out his nose, pushing himself to a sitting position.

“–so sorry,” and it’s a woman, Jamie just knocked out a woman in his rush to work. What’s next? Is he gonna hit a cat with his car? Maybe spit on a kid’s face? She keeps babbling apologies, unaware of Jamie’s foul mood. “–supposed to be at her office but there’s just– there are so many hallways–”

“‘s alright,” he cuts her off harsher than he means to, guilt stabbing at him when she looks at him with wide, remorseful eyes. Jamie sighs, dusting off his clothes and standing, offering her a hand. “Me fault for bein’ in a rush. Should’ve seen where I was going.”

“Oh, god, you actually know where you’re going,” she says with a grimace, accepting his hand. She’s on her feet and standing too close to Jamie for a second that feels like a lifetime– almost nose-to-nose with Richmond’s greatest. Her laugh is stuttery and nervous when she steps back, barely meeting Jamie’s eye.

She’s cute. Jamie’s not planning to do anything about it, especially not with his fine for being late slowly becoming one for missing training but she is. Cute. His mouth lifts in a half smile at the thought, charmed.

“I was looking for Rebecca Welton’s office but I only got myself lost,” she says sheepishly, putting her hair behind her ear every couple of seconds since it keeps stubbornly falling out of place. Jamie’s fingers twitch a little but no. No, absolutely not, he’s not doing this to himself, no sir. “Is there any way you can give me directions without having to go with me? I don’t want you to be late for– shit. Practice, huh?”

Jamie thinks she’s the smartest woman that’s ever walked the face of the Earth until he remembers where they are. At Richmond’s training facilities. She’s looking at a disheveled man in a sports outfit. The story kind of tells itself.

“I– yeah,” Jamie stutters a little, clearing his throat to disguise it. “There’s, um, it ain’t a problem. I can take you there if you want.”

Her entire posture screams relief as soon as he offers, and it’s enough for Jamie to make up his mind even if she hasn’t said yes yet. “Would you? They said in the group chat not to be late and, like, they weren’t specific about it but you just know when a message’s for you, you know. And here I am, late–”

A beat.

“–and rambling,” she smiles at him again, the sight tugging at Jamie’s chest as he stands there like an idiot, his brain rebooting whenever she does it. “Yes, please. I’d really appreciate it.”

And so Jamie asks a kitman to take his stuff to the locker room while he walks her up to Rebecca’s office. His hand hovers but doesn’t quite touch the small of her back while he blabbers his way through small talk. Nice weather, today, innit, traffic was absolute hell though. Oh, you’re not from around here, that’s nice, do you plan on going sightseeing?

He delivers her to Rebecca’s floor to a thankful, ecstatic Higgins, who welcomes her with a hearty shake of the hand and promises that she hasn’t missed anything important. She’s barely able to spare him a smile and a quick thanks before the door’s closed behind them and Jamie’s standing there on his own, smiling at nothing.

He’s still wearing a dopey grin when he finally finds himself on the field, Roy yelling at him to run laps until sundown for being late. His legs are killing him, he’s £200 poorer, and he didn’t even get the woman’s name; but nothing can drag him down from his high and make him forget how she’d squeezed his arm in gratitude, touch warm and calloused against his skin.

The next day Rebecca’s there before practice starts, looking tall and pleased as she claps her hands and shares the big news: since the final of the Queen’s Cup is being held right here at Nelson Road, she managed to get a band to play during the halftime show. They’ll be here the entire next two weeks for rehearsals and staging, so everyone must be on their best behavior if they don’t want their name in the summer transfer market.

Jamie doesn’t connect the dots until he sees her again, this time at a local bar big enough to house less than two thousand people. Keeley hears from Roy who hears from Beard, who heard from Higgins that Rebecca said the secret band was gonna hang around the city for a couple of other smaller, quick gigs.

Jamie manages to excuse himself from video games at Colin’s with the guys and offers himself to Keeley as a buffer between her and Roy at a bar tonight. Though, in Jamie’s very humble and very right opinion, they’re already on their way to getting back together for good.

The band’s gathered a nice crowd, the lighting low and the thrum of the music hammering on Jamie’s teeth. He’s nursing the beer Roy bought him, the man charmed enough by Keeley’s presence that he let Jamie bend his rigorous diet regime. Just for the night.

It takes three songs for the bassist to speak up, a makeshift spotlight landing on her, sweaty and delighted at being onstage. Jamie’s blood rushes to his face and his vision blacks out for a second.

It’s her. No longer is she lost and out of her element, shyly asking a stranger for help. Both of her feet are steady on the ground, the strap of her bass snug around her neck. Her fingers are toying with the strings even when no song’s playing, an air of rightful confidence washing over the room as it takes her in. Jamie isn’t the only one suddenly breathless.

She grins against the microphone, coy. “Thank you so much for having us, Jaded Joker. We’re Karma Police, and we hope you have as much fun hearin’ us as we do playing for you.”

They fall into another song with that quick introduction and Jamie can’t take his eyes off her, barely hearing the song as the world around him slows down. Her clothes and jewelry sway with her to the rhythm of the music, the lights shifting seamlessly into different colors making her look ethereal.

Keeley clocks it in immediately.

“She’s good, huh?” she nods at the stage where Jamie’s stranger is moving to the beat of the bass like no one’s watching, shamelessly enjoying herself and making funny faces at her bandmates. “Fuckin’ smoking, too.”

Jamie only hums in a very Roy Kent-like way, knowing there’s no fooling Keeley fucking Jones. The last thing he needs is to give her details and have her dip a toe into Jamie’s nonexistent love life.

Of course, he doesn’t take into consideration that Roy’s a brazen gossip.

“So,” Sam elongates the word as he’s spotting Jamie on the press the next day, happy watching him grunt at the effort. “How was the band last night?”

Jamie almost drops the damned thing on his chest.

“Roy said you enjoyed it,” he continues giddily like he didn’t almost commit accidental manslaughter by catching Jamie off guard. “Especially the bassist. What was her name?”

Sam fakes confusion for less than a minute before Jamie gives, mumbling it under his breath. He’d been weak and googled Karma Police in the privacy of his car before going home, swiping through the images that popped up until he recognized her face.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), the article he clicked on informed him. Jamie had repeated the name under his breath just to see what it felt like on his tongue for an embarrassing amount of time.

Thanks to Karma Police’s bassist and lyricist (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the band’s sophomore album New Perspective has found a home in people’s hearts and high on the global charts.

Keeley wasn’t kidding. She’s good.

“Oh,” Sam realizes, some of his amusement softening into genuine interest when he watches Jamie’s face do whatever the fuck it's doing. “Oh, you like like her.”

Jamie immediately flushes under Sam’s gaze, making sure the weight is safe in its place before physically fleeing the conversation. Sam doesn’t mention it to anyone, which Jamie appreciates so badly he could cry a little, but he does find his eyes across the locker room later when Rebecca comes in, four people in tow.

“Everybody, these are the wonderful musicians I spoke to you about the other day,” she says it in a way that screams I’m a pleasant human being and embarrass me and I will end your career right where you stand all at once. “We’re on a little tour of the installations and I thought we’d all come to say hi to wrap it up.”

The boys are charming and welcome them with ease. They’re not one of the most liked teams in England despite their bad runs for nothing, but Jamie’s frozen the second he catches sight of her. She’s a step behind one of her bandmates, shaking hands and smiling politely at conversations while staying slightly in the background, the stage persona from the previous night gone like taking off a jacket.

Jamie takes pride in the way their eyes meet and her tight expression loosens, her smile blossoming into something more genuine, less unsure.

“Hey, stranger,” she says a little awkwardly after having gathered the courage Jamie couldn’t to cross the room and say hi. It feels like they’re alone in a room full of people, and for a second Jamie thinks he sees Sam stealing a few looks, making sure he keeps the others away and distracted for a little privacy. “Did you make it to training the other day?”

“What?” Jamie blanks like an idiot, then shakes his head when he remembers how they met; both of them, late for their respective responsibilities. “Oh! Oh, yeah. I– yeah. I had to run for me life to make up for it, but I made it.”

“Good,” she smiles, shifting in her place. “I, um. I’m glad we get to play for you guys. What you’ve done this past season, getting back to the top, has been unbelievable.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he replies, awestruck, and backtracks when she looks a little apprehensive. She’s doing the hair thing again, combing it back while it stubbornly escapes its place every couple of seconds. A nervous tic, maybe. “I mean– some friends and I, we saw you last night at the Jaded Joker. If anything, it’s an honor we get you guys to play for us.”

“Oh!” she seems pleased, ducking her head at the compliment. Her shoulders loosen again, and Jamie tries not to feel like he just scored a goal against Man City. “Oh, you should’ve said hi! Did you enjoy yourselves?”

“I did,” he says, too soft, and it feels like an admission of something when her eyes search his face, for a moment landing on his mouth before putting herself back together. “Up there, it’s like– it’s like you forget everyone else. You’re made for the stage.”

If anything, (Y/N)’s delight only strengthens, tugging at the neckline of her shirt. Jamie finds himself trying to follow the trail of new skin and flushes as well when he catches himself just in time.

“Thank you,” she matches his tone. “You’d think it’d be nervewracking but it’s… silence. In my head. Does that make sense? I feel like it doesn’t.”

“It does,” Jamie agrees, breathless. It’s exactly how he feels when he gets the ball on his feet, every anxiety and worry and part of him he doesn’t like quieting the minute he steps on a pitch. “I get the same when I play. Peace in the chaos, I guess”

(Y/N) looks at him like she’s discovering the world’s eight wonder.

“Kids!” her bandmate breaks the moment by coming over, arm draped around (Y/N)’s shoulder. (Y/N) blinks, looking a little shell-shocked. “Sorry to interrupt this party, but rehearsal awaits.”

Disappointment claws at Jamie’s belly, but before he can let it fester the conversation continues, bubbly and loud. “Alas! We’ll be done around 5. You’re welcome to visit then. We’re going to the third floor, I think.”

(Y/N)’s only amused at her friend’s antics, even if Jamie’s back to having a knot in his throat out of nervousness alone. Jesus, what’s wrong with him? It’s like he’s eight again and crushing on the cute boy that lived in the apartment in front of the Tartt’s.

“See you then?” (Y/N) says, hopeful, and Jamie thinks it’s only fair he’s brave as well and nods as resolutely as he can.

“I’ll be there.”

He ends up having to ask Higgins for directions, after promising he’s not gonna stir up any trouble at least four times. It takes Roy passing by and giving a few reassuring grunts, guaranteeing Jamie’s best behavior before Higgins gives him the location. When Jamie goes to thank him, Roy only points at him menacingly, though lacking his usual frown, and says don’t fuck this up.

Rehearsals are just wrapping up when Jamie gets there, instruments being packed and people saying goodbye to each other when he makes his way into the room. He immediately finds (Y/N) sitting on the piano playing a complicated melody.

She lights up when she sees him, the music seizing. “You made it!”

Jamie stops her from standing up, instead sitting next to her after she scoots over to give him room. “That was nice. A song of yours?”

(Y/N) shrugs. “Hopefully soon. You never know, when you’re writing. You start working on a song and it ends up being a completely different thing from when you started.”

“Sounds messy,” Jamie says, a little consternated at the thought. Fortunately, (Y/N) laughs.

“It is. Do you play?”

“Fuck no,” he says quickly, then tries to explain himself as she splutters in amused surprise. “I mean, I don’t think I can. It seems pretty complicated. I’ve always been better with me feet.”

He reaches for the keys and begins playing some nonsense, loud and offkey, knowing it’ll make her laugh again.

“No, you gotta–” she cackles, placing her hands on top of his and quieting the dissonant echo of the keys. Jamie feels the tug at his lips, insistent, automatic, the same rush of delight that courses over him whenever he’s in her presence. “Gentle. Be gentle about it, jeez.”

She lines up their hands so her fingers move his and begins playing a quiet, fun melody. Jamie’s doing shit other than staring at her face, slightly twisted in concentration as she mumbles the notes under her breath. G, G, G, F, G, B, G, G…

“I know this one,” Jamie mumbles in recognition. (Y/N) turns her head to smile at him, pleased. “‘s from Nottin Hill, innit?”

“And a million other movies,” she murmurs back, unable to break the spell that’s fallen over the room. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a romantic.”

“‘s my favorite film,” he concedes, finding it incredibly easy to be honest when they’re sitting side by side like this, alone, their sides warm against each other. He loves his teammates, but (Y/N) didn’t know him when he was awful and arrogant, too cocky. There’s nothing she holds against him, no standard he needs to meet for her to be happy in his company. “Cried me eyes out at the end. Though I’ll deny it if you ever ask in front of anyone.”

(Y/N) laughs. “I promise I won’t. It’s a good movie. Doesn’t beat While You Were Sleeping, though.”

Jamie’s expression remains blank. (Y/N)’s face falls into disbelief, her hands tightening against his. “You’ve never watched While You Were Sleeping.”

He’s heard of it, but it’s hilarious to watch her forget herself, any sign of nervousness or polite shyness finally out the window. Jamie likes it– likes her, wants her to be comfortable with him and stop holding herself so tightly whenever she’s off the stage.

“You poor, sheltered boy,” she exhales, aghast. “Holy fuck, I can’t believe I’m about to introduce you to the best romantic comedy ever made.”

Jamie goes to take the opening but stops himself at the last second. He knows this process; the flirting, the leaning in for just a moment so she smells his cologne then pulling away, leaving her wanting more. The asking for a date, a fancy dinner, then taking her home. Sneaking out in the middle of the night, dodging calls until she stops trying to reach him.

He’s been doing it for years. He wants to desperately break the cycle and he wants to do it with her, but does he have it in him? Jamie’s been working on himself harder than he’s worked for anything else in his life, but what if he’s one slip away from becoming his old self? From turning out like his dad?

Sure, the old man’s changed, or– well. He’s trying to. But whether Jamie likes it or not he sees a little too much of him in himself sometimes, and he can’t do that to her. He’s known her for less than a week and he knows she deserves better. Everyone does.

Roy told him not to fuck it up. Maybe this is what he meant.

His expression stutters, shatters, and reestablishes itself in a matter of a moment, a blink of an eye. Jamie knocks his shoulder into hers gently, leaning back into place after a second. He teases: “And who made you the expert, eh?”

Rather than letting it drop, (Y/N) takes the bait just like Jamie knew she would. They stay there until a security guard comes to kick them out for the night, and they talk about everything and nothing. Movies, songs, bands they like, and foods they don’t. Jamie’s favorite players when he was a kid, his hero-like worship for Roy Kent, and how he’s made him a better player, a better man.

(Y/N) shares with him the first time she held a guitar in her hands, the albums she listened to when she was a kid that changed her as a person, realizing she could create magic through words and music. Her favorite cities to tour, how long she’s known her bandmates, how she’d die and kill for them if necessary.

By the time he’s walking into the pitch at Nelson Road two weeks later, the roar of the crowd around him swallowing every other sound, Jamie’s spent every free moment of his time with (Y/N) (Y/L/N). It was unavoidable, helpless as he is in his attraction to her, but Jamie doesn’t know what to do without, as Roy so carefully put it, fucking it up.

It hadn’t helped when (Y/N) snuck into the locker room to wish him luck, showing him the Richmond bracelet she was gonna wear onstage with a roll of the eyes. “Our stylist wouldn’t let me wear the jersey, but don’t you doubt for a second that I’m rooting for you, Tartt.”

Jesus Christ. Jamie had felt his cheeks warm up and dared to thank her with a loud, exaggerated kiss on the forehead that left them both grinning like idiots and Roy staring at them knowingly.

Before Jamie followed his teammates into the field, Roy had pulled him aside with a hand on his shoulder. “Tartt–”

“I know, I know,” he answered a little too self-deprecatingly. “Don’t fuck it up.”

But Roy only raised his eyebrows, realization dawning on his features. “You think I say that because I think you will?”

Jamie mumbled some not-words under his breath and Roy cursed. “Prick. I say it because you deserve good things, dickhead. And you should let them come to you when they do.”

Good things, Jamie thinks after one of his passes gives Dani the first goal of the night. The younger man jumps into his arms while hugging him tight and laughing into his ear, their teammates joining their embrace less than a second later.

He looks towards the general area of the VIP seats where he knows (Y/N) and the rest of the band are cheering them on. He pictures her screaming at the top of her lungs, arms in the air, and being happy for him like she’s known him for all his life.

She might be the best thing. Whether he deserves her or not, Jamie wants her. Wants to be with her, watch romantic comedies until they both cry and spend his free afternoons watching her play the piano while he plays FIFA in the living room. He wants songs written about him that have him blushing whenever he hears them in public and for her to come to his games and be able to dedicate every goal to her he ever scores.

Good things. Yeah, Jamie can get down on that.

“You fucking asshole!” she jumps into his arms the second she finds him on the pitch after the game, a medal hanging from his neck and sweat sticking to his skin. (Y/N) doesn’t seem to care as she lets him lift her in the air, holding onto each other tight. “You did it! You fucking did it!”

“I missed your show,” he replies instead, only a little bummed. He’s seen her play live before but there was an itch under his skin the entire half-time, knowing how close she was and being unable to get to her. Jamie grins. “And stole it, too.”

“There he is,” she teases gleefully. “For a second there I thought you were gonna be humble about this.”

“I don’t even know what that word means,” he says cockily.

“And how’s Mr. Man of the Match gonna celebrate, huh?” she wonders, hitting him lightly on the chest now that he’s put her back on the ground. “A fancy club? Getting shitfaced with the boys? A date with your left hand?”

Jamie puts his hand on hers at the last second, stopping her from pulling away. She sways into him, all traces of joking vanishing from her expression. He forces himself to stay on her face, the urge to look away defeated by how she’s looking at him. In wonder, open, hopeful.

She deserves good things, too. Jamie is determined to be the one to give them to her.

“I was thinking dinner?” he asks, fidgeting a little on his feet. “Maybe a movie? Thought I could see what While You Were Sleeping’s all about.”

(Y/N)’s mouth is fighting against a smile, somewhat hesitant still. Jamie doesn’t blame her, he’s been beating around this bush the entire time they’ve known each other.

“You want any company?” she wonders.

“Well, what kind of date would it be if it was just me?” he forces his features into faux confusion, watching her finally lose the battle and beam like a kid on Christmas. Her fingers twitch where he’s holding onto her hand.

“Not a great one,” she concedes, looking like all of Jamie’s dreams. “How do you feel about Mexican?”

Awful. Jamie feels awful about Mexican. He’s a white sexy boy in all the ways that matter and his taste buds punish him for eating spicy food no matter how much he likes it. But he can compromise. He’s starting to realize there’s very little he wouldn’t do for (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

“I feel fantastic about anything you like,” he answers truthfully. “I’m sure me tongue will forgive me eventually.”

(Y/N) laughs, fingers in Jamie’s hold shifting so she can hold his hand. “I think there’s a good lyric somewhere in there.”

“You plannin’ on writing me a song?”

She smirks. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t yet.”

Jamie squeezes her hand, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“Can’t wait to hear it, love.”

___

there’s an ache in my bones to make a series out of this fic omg

i can’t believe the show’s over (is it tho????) so here’s some jamie fluff to heal our tender, mourning hearts. as always you’re welcome to tell me what you think and chat jamie and ted lasso as much as you’d like! thank u for reading AND for all the love on my last jamie piece that you can read here!

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

#commissions and asks are open!#leo writes #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #phil dunster #roy kent #brett goldstein #rebecca welton #hannah waddingham #keeley jones #juno temple #sam obisanya #toheeb jimoh #i had so much fun w this i hope i do write more of them #reader insert

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midnightfictionlibrary · 2 years ago

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Silver Springs - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader/Roy Kent x Fem!Reader

Silver Springs - Jamie Tartt xFem!Reader, Roy Kent x FemReader!

Content - angst, flirting, friends to lovers, love triangle

Word Count - 3k

Summary - Whilst Jamie is in the throes of preparing for the Man City game, Roy tries to show the reader that he's noticed her past just being the coaches’ assistant, even if it makes him feel guilty.

Read Part One Here

A/N - Part 2 of this love triangle fic, let’s gooooo. As always like and reblog if you enjoy and let me know what you think <33

It had been about a week since Jamie had kissed you, and things weren’t official. You couldn’t say you weren’t disappointed, but you understood the mental stress he was under with the upcoming Man City match. Being able to be intimately close to him was enough, because you knew he needed the comfort. Sitting on your couch and stroking his hair as you felt his breathing become deeper made you more than content.

You sigh slightly to yourself and open your laptop, your color coded calendar coming to life. You glance to the corner of your screen, looking at the time. Bright and early with plenty of time to move appointments and schedule other needed meetings. You sat at your desk in the small room off of Ted and Beard’s. Your deskmate wasn’t there yet. He actually grunted every time you called him your “deskmate”, but annoying Roy Kent was one of the perks of this job.

“Hey, love.” You would recognize his voice anywhere, and you look up to see Jamie leaning on the doorframe. He crosses the room and gives you a sweet peck on the lips, then plants another kiss on the top of your head. He crosses through your office to the locker room and you smile to yourself. What a perfect start to your day, a kiss from the man you had wanted to be with for so long. You look back to your screen and start moving appointments, adding in the important dates Ted left on a football shaped sticky note, including the latest visit from Henry.

A slight thud on your desk has you tearing your eyes away from your computer screen. You see a take-away coffee cup with the name “RAY” written in big, scratchy letters. You look up, greeted with a glowering, bushy eyebrowed face. “Can I help you…Ray?” You grin gesturing to the coffee cup.

“Fuck’s sake.” He grunts. “I brought you coffee.” He scoots the coffee cup closer to you, and you raise an eyebrow, Roy Kent was bringing you coffee?

“Thank you…but why?”

“What do you fuckin’ mean why? Cause you’re nice and you’re always bringing everyone else coffee.” He says gruffly, dropping his iconic black leather jacket onto his own chair, revealing his tight fitting black tshirt underneath. You take a sip of the coffee to avoid gazing at him, you had eyes and knew he was fit. You were pleasantly surprised at your drink.

“How’d you know my order?” You say, taking another delighted sip of your drink. You watch Roy’s jaw jump slightly and he shrugs.

“Must have just picked up on it.” He says nonchalantly. In reality, he snooped around your desk the night previous, but he wasn’t going to admit to that. That sounded insane. He felt like a terrible person. He and Tartt were on good terms again, friends even, and here he was trying to win over the girl he knew Jamie was mad about. He was a prick. And a bad friend. But he couldn’t help it. Something about you drew him to you, and you made him want to open up to the possibility of being in a serious relationship again.

You smile slightly at Roy’s back, flattered that he had done this for you. You were still a bit baffled as to why. It’s not as if Roy wasn’t nice to you, he was. But usually he answered you in growls, not full sentences. “Well…I really appreciate it. I didn’t have time to grab coffee this morning before getting to work.”

Roy turns to look at you, one corner of his lips ticking upwards. “Don’t mention it.” He says. “Seriously, fuckin’ don’t.” You openly laugh at this and turn back to your computer screen.

“What is all that shit anyway?” Roy asks, and you can feel him cross the tiny space to stand over your shoulder. When he leans over and places one hand on your desk and one on the arm of your desk chair, you feel your heart skip a beat. Which was dumb. Why would that be your reaction? You ignore the feeling and shrug.

“This is how you get your extra physio appointments, how Ted has time to review game footage every other day, and how Beard knows when it’s time to exchange his library books.” You look up at him. “It’s all color coded for every member of the team. I’m pretty proud of it, if I do say so myself.” You give him a small smile and go back to typing in the extra appointments Ted had asked you to put in.

“Fuck.” Roy says, watching you work the schedule around. “Now I understand why Ted said he didn’t know which way was up without you.”

“Aw, you talk to Ted about little ole me?” You flash him a teasing grin and his heart wrenches. Fuck you and your stupid, pretty grin.

“Uh…” Roy starts, coughing slightly to cover his embarrassment.

You pat the hand resting on your desk before you continue typing. “I’m just kidding, Roy.”

Roy clears his throat, but still hadn’t moved from his spot. He seemed content to watch you work, which was unusual for him, but you didn’t mind. He was a little close, sure, but if he wanted to watch you put in appointments and move Sam’s restaurant re-opening for him then who were you to tell him no?

“Love?” You look up at the sound of Jamie’s pet name for you and smile brightly at him.

“Hi!”

“Am…I interruptin’ somethin’?” Jamie asks, pushing his hair back with his headband, looking from you to Roy. Why was Roy so close to you? That made him feel uneasy, but he wasn’t sure why. He knew that you had feelings for him, but he hadn’t made anything official. He supposed he couldn’t blame you for exploring your options. His eyes meet Roy’s, who clears his throat and straightens up, away from you.

“No.” Roy says gruffly. “I was just looking at the insane color coding she has in there.”

Jamie nods slightly, looking to you, who he was relieved to see, only had eyes for him. He crosses the room to you, kneeling in front of where you sat, and you look down at him, eyebrow raised. He grins at you.

“I jus’ wanted to come see if you wanted to have lunch with me today.” He says, ignoring Roy completely at this point. You nod enthusiastically, pushing a strand of hair that came loose from the headband back.

“Course I do.” You said, smiling at him. “Meet you at the kebab place around the corner?” You ask, to which Jamie nods. He glances at Roy, who is pretending to be preoccupied on his phone and presses his lips to yours in a sweet, soft kiss.

“Great. See ya then, darlin’.” You smile as you watch him walk out, quickly turning back to your work. Next on the agenda, emails.

“So.” You hear.

You turn towards Roy’s voice. “So..?”

“You and Tartt, yeah?”

You shrug. “Nothing is official yet.” You say nonchalantly, trying to hide just how giddy you were about Jamie openly kissing you and referring to you as “love” or “darlin’”.

“Not fuckin’ official?” Roy says, incredulous. This was news to him.

“Not yet.”

“Why the bloody hell not?” Roy crosses the room again and peers down at you.

You look back up at him and wave your hand absentmindedly. “Jamie is already stressed about this upcoming match, I can wait until his head is completely clear to have a serious conversation.” You pick up your coffee cup again, taking a sip of the delicious hazelnut latte.

But you nearly choke when Roy leans down, one hand on each of your chair’s armrests, caging you in. His face is inches from yours.

“That’s fuckin’ dumb, babe.”

You lower the coffee cup from your lips, studying his face intently. Your heart was pounding. Babe? What was he doing? Never in the entire few years you had been here, had the Roy Kent paid so much attention to you.

“Hm.” You say, quirking an eyebrow. “And why is that dumb?”

Roy smirks slightly. “Because if I had you, I wouldn’t even fuckin’ hesitate to claim you.”

You realized you were holding your breath and you laugh nervously. “O..oh.” You say, swallowing. “Well I don’t think Jamie is hesitating to claim me.” You look into his face, because he was making it impossible not to notice how handsome he actually is. Sure, you weren’t public with your relationship, but Jamie didn’t hide how he felt about you, at all.

“Maybe not here. But I would be shouting from the fuckin’ rooftops if I had someone as nice as you smiling pretty at me like you do Jamie.” You can see him studying your face, and in reality, Roy’s heart is pounding. He’s getting a bit too carried away here and he didn’t know when or how to stop.

“Maybe you could have someone with a pretty smile if you weren’t such a grouch.” You counter, leaning in closer to him, aware now that you were having some sort of effect on him. You watch him swallow, his eyes flicking down to your lips. You smirk at him.

He growls in response, catching you completely off guard that you had elicited such a sound from him but making you smirk even more. You press a single finger against his lips, standing up as you push him back.

“See? Grouch.” You tease, moving your finger but before you can rest your hand at your side again, Roy looks down at you, catching your wrist in his hand.

“Fuck’s sake, woman.” He says, almost breathlessly. You look up at him, fluttering your eyelashes innocently, but trying to deny the fact that you liked how his large hand had caught you. The look on your face was all it took for Roy to back you into a wall, his lips on yours. One hand with his fingers splayed across your hip, digging greedily, almost possessively, the other letting go of your wrist to yank you closer to him, if that was even possible. The kiss was sloppy, heated, needy. The heat of your body pressed against Roy’s was making your head cloudy. When he deepens the kiss, your breath hitches and a slight moan escapes your lips, causing Roy to smirk into your lips.

You felt so bad that you kissed him back. When Roy pulled away, he immediately lets go of you.

“I…I shouldn’t have fuckin’ done that.”

What were you doing? What about Jamie? “I..shouldn’t have kissed you back.” You whispered, wide eyed. Roy has stepped back and away from you, but he’s watching you with such a look of longing. “I’m the worst girlfriend ever.” You say.

“Not his girlfriend, technically.”

You shift your gaze and focus your eyes on him. “What?” You say.

“You’re not his girlfriend officially.” Roy grunts, before stepping closer to you again. “I get if you don’t ever fuckin’ speak to me again. Just don’t tell me you regretted that.”

You gaze up at him. No, you’re not Jamie’s girlfriend. But Jamie is everything you ever wanted. And it made you feel horrible that you didn’t regret that little kiss-attack. You shake your head slowly, watching as Roy came close to you again, hovering above you, his torso pressing into you. “Please.” He says.

The gruff, broken plea in his voice makes your knees weak and you shake your head. “I can’t tell you that.” You say, clearing your throat and straightening up, your breath slightly heavy.

“Even if I know you don’t?” He says grabbing your chin, looking into your eyes.

Your eyes flutter closed and you breathe out. “Yes.” You hated him right now. How did he manage to get a rise out of you so quickly? You pull your face away from his grasp and push yourself off the wall. “I need to go.” You say bluntly, gathering your laptop and your bag. Roy steps back and watches you go, rushing out the door.

You cannot believe what had just happened. You were so distracted that you run smack into someone in the carpark, their arms grabbing you and steadying you.

“Woah, love, what’s wrong? You look like ya’ seen a ghost.”

Jamie. Because of course it was Jamie. You can’t even look him in the eye and he moves his head to catch your gaze. “M’startin’ to worry here, darlin’, what’s wrong?” He asks again, his grip tightening a bit on you. He had a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. Like he knew what was coming next.

“We can’t be together.” You say bluntly.

Jamie blinks once, then twice. “What?”

“You deserve someone better than me.”

Jamie still looks dumbfounded, but was becoming almost desperate to find out what you were talking about. “Please tell me what you’re talkin’ about, because I’m gettin’ a little scared.”

“I…” you look away from him again. “I kissed Roy. Or…he kissed me.”

Jamie winces. “Y-what?…kissed Roy?”

“It just happened. And we can’t be together because I’m a horrible person for doing this to you.” You pull out of his grasp, but Jamie grabs you again. “Jamie, please let me go.”

“No.” He says, simply, grabbing your chin much like Roy had done minutes before. “I’m not pleased, but this is almost like karma for how shitty I’ve been in the past.” He shakes his head when you open your mouth. “Do ya care about me?”

“Of course I do.” You almost sob, looking at him with the most pathetic eyes he’d ever seen.

“I know ya do, or you wouldn’t have told me right away.” He kisses your forehead. “M’not happy about it. But I can’t say I blame ya for exploring options when I haven’t even asked ya on a proper date.”

You groan, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “You being so understanding is making me feel worse. I know we’re not officially together or whatever the hell -“ you pause and look at him. “But I feel so, so, awful that it happened.”

Jamie shakes his head. “Stop that. M’not going to turn my back on you. I’ve cared about ya too long to let the messy beginning of what we’re tryin’ to figure out be the end of us. Besides, I did this same thing to Roy when he was with Keeley. Sometimes you just…like who you like.”

You stare at him. “You’re spending too much time with Ted.”

Jamie actually throws his head back and laughs at that, rolling his eyes once before pulling you in. “Now that you’ve kissed me coach I guess we’re even. Cause I used to be with Keeley and the two of you are thick as thieves.” He really didn’t blame you for any of this, but was making a mental note to maybe punch Roy in his face later. He couldn’t say it didn’t hurt, the thought of you kissing someone else. But he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of what he knows is meant to be. He knew that was corny, but with you he wasn’t worried about any of that. He wanted it all, the house, the love, the kids in the future.

“I’m sorry Jamie. I really am. All I could think about was how much of an asshole I was being.” You look up at him, realizing he’s already gazing at you.

“Be me girl. Officially.” He says.

You blink. “I thought you weren’t ready to have a serious conversation until after the match?”

“Don’t care about any of that anymore.” He says. “Me dad, me reputation with Man City. Don’t matter.” He mumbles into your hair. “Only you matter to me.”

“Okay.” You whisper.

“Okay, ya believe me? Or okay, ya wanna make this official?”

“I want to be yours, Jamie.” You catch the smile on his face and he leans in, cradling your face. The kiss he gives you is so different from what you had experienced with Roy. This was slow, sweet, and loving. Jamie pecks your lips, once, two, three times, and when he pulls back, he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. You sigh, contentedly.

“That’s me girl.” He whispers, holding you close. You realize that this, with Jamie, was what you wanted. He kisses along your jawline, and you can’t help yourself, you smile. “Knew I could coax that gorgeous smile outta ya.”

Jamie was infatuated with you, and if he was being honest, completely in love with you, and had been since you had been the only one willing to speak to him when he initially came back to Richmond.

Jamie leads you to his car, and when you both get in, he pulls you across the center console onto his lap, sliding his large palm up to cup your face as he continues to kiss you. You were breathless, tangling your hands in his hair.

When you both finally pull away, you smile. Jamie tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, just like he did that night in the bar. “I’ve waited so long to be able t’call ya mine, love.” Jamie murmurs, your noses touching.

You stay like that, Jamie nuzzling you in his lap, while you think about everything that had happened. But you knew that nothing made you feel better than when Jamie held you. You stroke Jamie’s hair absentmindedly. You just hoped that you weren’t truly as terrible as you still felt.

You close your eyes, reveling in the feeling of Jamie’s presence. This was more than enough.

#jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt #friends to lovers #roy kent x reader #roy kent x y/n #angst fic #longing fic #jamie tartt fanfiction #roy kent fanfiction #love triangle

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english-r · 21 days ago

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I want to hold your hand

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

WARNING: 18+ Smut and swearing.

SUMMARY: Y/N and Roy celebrate a successful day with a pleasurable night.

The late January air is casting a grey cloud over London, fog clings to every blade of grass, and cool air settles deep in everyone’s bones. Roy Kent is standing on the sidelines at Nelson Road, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat as his eyes dart from side to side, tracking the ball. Ted and Beard are standing nearby, Richmond are playing Chelsea in a friendly, but to Roy, it’s more than that. His former club is playing the club he coaches, and to him, he’s proving himself, proving that his decisions have been correct. The saving grace for his nerves was that his girlfriend, Y/N/, is sitting in the owner's box wth Rebecca, it doesn't matter that he can’t quite see her, just her presence calms him down instantly. Earlier that morning, Y/N had come bounding down their stairs wearing an outfit typical for her: Red tights, a denim skirt, and a baggy Richmond AFC shirt. Over the top, she shrugged on an oversized woollen coat and slid her feet into brown platform loafers. Roy just leant against the door watching her, she was so wonderfully herself, and he loved her for it. But Roy’s favourite part of the outfit was most definitely the Richmond shirt, one of his old ones, with Kent blazoned across the back in capital letters. He finds himself weighing up whether they have time to go back upstairs. He’s no caveman, but seeing the woman he loves wearing his name so proudly, well, it’s certainly distracting.

And now, as Zoreaux manages to stop a Chelsea player from scoring, Roy smiles and looks over his shoulder, he can’t quite make out Y/N’s face (he refuses to get his eyesight tested) but he can see her curly hair that she’d piled on top of her head and tied red, yellow, and blue ribbons into, repping the teams colours. He smiles up at her before turning back.

Richmond wins, and over the coming hours, the team spills out of Nelson Road and onto the streets of Richmond, any excuse for a celebration. Roy and Y/N drift together occasionally and chat, and then they drift into separate conversations. Holding a drink and chatting to Ted, Y/N’s coat is long discarded, and Kent is proudly displayed between her shoulder blades. The cold beer bottle Roy is clutching does little to quell the growing heat rapidly spreading through his body as he watches Y/N laugh with her whole body as she always does. He can barely listen to Beard’s story about how Jane and he are back together again. All he can focus on is whether it would be acceptable to leave now or if he should wait longer. He sips his drink and places it downn on the table, “fuck it” he whispers before walking over to Y/N leaving Beard in disbelief. Roy waits a while, not wanting to interrupt the ongoing conversation, then he slides his arm around her waist and whispers in her ear, “Babe, ready to go?”. Y/n turns around, her hair now falling out of the clips and over her shoulder, her bright blue eyes are wide and staring at his. “You want to go?” She is searching his eyes, worried that he isn’t feeling well, but what she finds is very different from tiredness or anxiety. “Mhm, want you to myself”, his hands stroked her hip. Y/N swallows, his eyes piercing into her, and she feels weak; he never fails to make her feel weak.

They navigate their way out of the party, Roy firmly holding Y/N’s hand and leading her through the crowded pub and into the dark, cold night. Soon they are wandering through Richmond green, luckily, the pair's shared home is only a short walk from the pub favoured by the team. They walk silently, hand in hand. Y/N’s other hand is wrapped around Roy’s leather-covered arm. Richmond Green is beautiful at night, the trees casting shadows across the footpath and nearby pubs and houses casting dancing light outwards. Roy is too distracted by the beguiling woman on his arm, soon their house looms into view, and Roy reaches into his jean pocket to retrieve the keys. As soon as they enter the home, the atmosphere of calm changes to one that is more charged. The door clicks shut, Roy leans Y/N against it with his hand behind her head and leans in until she can feel his breath against her cheek. “Been thinking about this since you came down in that shirt, look so perfect wearing my name”, his rough voice sending shivers down her spine and right to the place she wants him most. “Wore it for that reason”, she says against his lips, and he can’t hold himself back any longer, surging forward to envelope her lips with his own. Y/N’s hands thread through the hair at the bottom of his neck, it’s not as long as she likes it to be, but she doesn’t mind and pulls him in further. It’s a greedy kiss, both of them wanting to be as close to the other as possible, their teeth grazing against lips, and Roy’s tongue flicks against hers. “Upstairs”, Y/n whispers against his lips before immediately slotting them back together again as if she can’t be apart from him for too long. Roy walks backwards, still with his arms wrapped around her and tongues pressed together, attempting to walk up the stairs. They immediately fall, and Y/N buries her head in his neck as she giggles on top of him. Roy can’t help but bark out a laugh. “You’re like a bloody horny teenager” Y/N teases as she leans on his chest and Roy replies, “Your fault babe, make me feel like a horny teenager just by looking at me” Roy helps her to stand up “Ok, maybe walk upstairs unattached” Y/N nods in agreement as she smiles.

Upon reaching their bedroom, they are immediately back on each other. Y/N starts to undo Roy’s tie and quickly moves to undo his shirt buttons. Roy’s hands are under Y/n’s t-shirt as he yanks it off, and his hands make quick work of her denim skirt. Y/N manages to pull his shirt off and runs her hand all over his hairy chest as their tongues keep dancing together. Moans escape her mouth and are consumed by Roy. Roy rolls her red tights down her leg, picks her up and throws her on the bed. “Fuckin’ ell”, she giggles and starts to undo her red bralette, leaning back on her elbows and watching Roy undo his trousers. She always finds herself overcome with how attractive he is and how she could manage to blush at the sight of just his chest hair. Roy looks down at her as he works his zipper down, and she can feel herself getting even wetter under his discerning gaze. Roy can’t help but take her all in with her naked chest heaving and her red panties gracing her bottom half. “So fucking perfect, sweet girl” it comes out even deeper and rougher than is normal voice as he yanks his trousers and boxers down at the same time.

The woman beneath him breaths becomes more rapid, breasts rising and falling even quicker as her jaw slackens at the sight of his girthy cock. “All mine”, Roy asserts and leans down to kiss her stomach and then her sternum before taking her nipple into his mouth. A breathy moan is exhaled by Y/N as she wraps her legs around him, desperate for any form of friction. He reaches a hand down and traces the outline of her labia, never one to leave his girl unsatisfied, slowly making his way to gently tickle her clit. Y/N disconnects her lips from his and leans back, pressing herself further into his hand and moaning. Roy can’t wait any longer, he’s been wanting her since 6 am this morning. Now as the moonlight paints her tits and his previous ministrations leaving her nipple glistening, his patience has dwindled. So, he moves his fingers into either side of her knickers and slowly glides them down her legs “Need you now”, he states and breathes in her heady scent “Do you want me inside, dove?” Roy looks up at her, and their eyes connect as Y/N nods, “Yes, God, Yes, Roy”, Y/N replies and claws at his back.

Roy is face to face with her now, tucking her hair behind her ear and pecking her lips he reaches down and uses her wetness to lube his cock. Finally, he drives himself inside of her, his eyes focused on Y/N’s face as she moans and whines at the feeling. “Deeper”, she demands and hooks her arms under his arms, clinging to his shoulders. For a while, all that can be heard is her pants, his grunts, and the squelch coming from where they are connected. Y/N mewls his name now and again as if to ground herself. Finally Roy’s hips start to stutter and struggle, Y/N moves her hands up and down his ribs untl she grabs his ass “make me cum baby” she coos in his ear and nips it. That spurs him on to thrust a few more times, “You close, dove?” Y/N nods and tilts her head back, her body tightening and her toes spreading as she dissolves into pleasure “God yes, Roy” Her hands cradle his head as he presses it into her neck and groans deeply before releasing inside of her.

They lie there entangled for a while, Y/N’s eyes open again, her vision returning, she finally spots her bra hanging from the ceiling light, and a chuckle vibrates in her chest. Her hand absentmindedly strokes Roy’s hair as he stays on top of her. Slowly he pulls out of her, watching as his cum flows out of her beautiful pussy, he pads over to the en suite in all his naked glory, and returns with a flannel to clean her up. Gently, he guides the damp flannel over her delicate folds and cleans hic cock before throwing the flannel into the laundry basket and flopping down next to her. Y/N is still floating, her mind in a haze, but she manages to turn to him and smile, “That was good, fancy a brew now though”. He laughs “I’ve just fucked your brains out and you want a bloody brew, you’re an enigma woman” But he still stands up and approaches the door. “Put some sodding pants on man, don’t want Mrs Fletcher having a heart attack at the sight of your cock”. Roy grabs a pair of boxers and pulls them on “ ‘s only natural, babe, any woman would” his laugh can be heard as he runs downstairs. “Ego the size of a bloody bowling ball that man.”

#afc richmond #roy kent #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent imagine #roy kent x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #roy kent smut

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roseandxanderfics · 1 month ago

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“The Silent Bond”- Roy Kent x reader

Summary: A reserved physio at Richmond FC and Roy Kent form a quiet, unspoken bond through subtle gestures and shared moments. Over time, their connection deepens, offering comfort and trust without needing many words.

---------------

You were used to being overlooked.

It wasn’t a self-pitying thought—just a fact. You were quiet, you kept to yourself, and in a place like Nelson Road, where personalities were larger than life, it was easy to fade into the background.

It suited you just fine.

Being Richmond’s new physical therapist was already overwhelming enough without having to force yourself into conversations. You preferred working one-on-one with the players, patching them up in the treatment room, listening to their endless stories without feeling the need to contribute much yourself.

Most of them were kind—Jamie loved an audience, Sam was sweet, Dani was infectiously friendly. Ted, of course, made an effort to check in, always throwing out a “Hope you’re settlin’ in alright, Doc!” even though you weren’t a doctor.

The only one who never acknowledged you?

Roy Kent.

At first, you assumed he just didn’t notice you. Which, again, was fine. You weren’t the type to demand attention, and Roy wasn’t exactly known for his warm and fuzzy personality. But as the weeks passed, you started to realize something.

Roy did notice you.

He noticed when you’d get overwhelmed by too many people in the treatment room, subtly shifting his stance so you weren’t boxed in. He noticed when you hadn’t eaten, gruffly shoving a protein bar in your direction without a word. He noticed when a player dismissed your instructions, his growled “Oi, listen to her” carrying more weight than anything you could’ve said.

It wasn’t much. Just little moments, barely worth mentioning.

But you noticed him, too.

You noticed how he always stayed behind after training, making sure the injured players actually did their recovery exercises. You noticed how his voice softened just slightly when speaking to his niece, how he had more patience with the team than he let on, how—despite his permanent scowl—he cared more than anyone.

You never spoke much. He never asked why.

And that, more than anything, made you trust him.

⸻

It was late, long after most of the staff had left, when you found yourself alone in the physio room, finishing up paperwork. The soft hum of the overhead lights filled the quiet space, and the only other sound was the occasional scribble of your pen against the clipboard.

You liked the solitude. It was one of the only times you felt completely at ease.

The peace lasted until a familiar gravelly voice broke the silence.

“You still here?”

You turned, slightly startled, to see Roy leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. His usual scowl was in place, but there was something unreadable in his gaze as he looked at you.

You nodded, holding up your clipboard in explanation.

He grunted, stepping further into the room.

You expected him to leave after a few seconds. Instead, he lingered, his dark eyes scanning your face, then the untouched sandwich sitting beside you on the table. After a long moment, he exhaled sharply.

“You eat yet?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. You hesitated just a second too long.

His eyes narrowed. “Didn’t think so.”

Before you could say anything, he turned on his heel, heading toward the door.

“Come on.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Dinner,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your stomach twisted at the unexpected offer. “Oh, I—I wasn’t—”

“It’s not a date,” he cut in, rolling his eyes. “Jesus. Just don’t want you fucking collapsing or some shit.”

You stared at him. He stared back, expectant.

Then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you set your clipboard down and stood up.

Roy Kent didn’t say much.

And maybe that’s why you understood each other so well.

⸻

Dinner turned out to be a quiet affair. Roy took you to a small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant, the kind of place you never would’ve guessed he liked. It was warm, cozy, the kind of spot where no one paid attention to who was sitting at the next table.

You both ordered, and for a while, you just ate in comfortable silence.

Then, in an unexpected turn of events, you spoke first.

“You do this for all the physios, then?”

Roy huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re the only one who forgets to fucking eat.”

You ducked your head slightly, embarrassed but oddly touched.

After that, the conversation—if it could be called that—flowed surprisingly easily. He wasn’t much of a talker, and you weren’t one to overshare, but the space between you was filled with little remarks, quiet jokes, and the occasional grunt of approval from Roy.

It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t awkward.

It was just… nice.

By the time he walked you back to your car, you realized something.

Roy Kent wasn’t just someone you worked with.

He was becoming someone you could trust.

———————-

The next morning, you half-expected things to return to normal.

You figured Roy would pretend last night never happened, that he’d go back to his usual gruffness, and that your quiet little dinner wouldn’t change anything.

And, in a way, you were right.

When you arrived at work, Roy didn’t acknowledge you at first. No nod, no greeting, nothing. Just his usual scowl as he stalked around the training ground, barking instructions at the team.

Which was fine.

You liked things the way they were—simple, easy, with no pressure to fill the silence.

But then—

“Oi.”

You turned to find Roy standing beside you, arms crossed.

You blinked. “Hi?”

He jerked his chin toward the treatment table where one of the players was lying. “You done with him?”

You nodded, confused.

Roy grunted, then reached into his pocket and tossed something onto the table in front of you.

You looked down.

A granola bar.

Your lips parted in surprise. By the time you glanced back up, Roy was already walking away.

It wasn’t much. Just a small, seemingly insignificant gesture.

But for the rest of the day, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

⸻

Over the next few weeks, little things started to change.

Roy still didn’t talk much, but when he did, it was different. Less dismissive, more direct. He didn’t just grunt at you in passing anymore—he actually asked questions.

Nothing too personal. Nothing invasive.

Just things like, “You sleep last night?” or “What the fuck are you still doing here this late?”

It was subtle, but you noticed.

You also noticed how, whenever you did speak, Roy actually listened.

Most people didn’t. You spoke softly, hesitated sometimes, and had a habit of trailing off when you felt like you were talking too much. But Roy never rushed you.

When you muttered something under your breath, he heard it. When you quietly made a dry joke, his lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh. When someone interrupted you in a meeting, he shot them a glare so fierce that no one ever dared do it again.

And then there were the unspoken things.

Like how he always lingered near the treatment room when you were alone. How he made sure you ate, even though he never said anything about it. How his entire body language softened—just slightly—when he was around you.

It was all so… unexpected.

And maybe that’s why, when Roy asked if you wanted to grab dinner again, you surprised yourself by saying yes.

⸻

The second dinner wasn’t as much of a surprise as the first.

You were both staying late at Nelson Road—him reviewing training footage, you finishing up reports—when Roy appeared in the doorway of the physio room.

“Hungry?”

You hesitated, glancing at the clock. It was past eight. You should probably go home.

But Roy was looking at you expectantly, his version of an invitation clear.

So you just nodded.

This time, he took you somewhere different. A quiet pub, tucked away from the usual Richmond crowd. You sat in a booth, ordered food, and just… talked.

You weren’t sure what had shifted, but the conversation was easier now. Maybe because you were used to Roy’s way of speaking—short sentences, blunt statements, occasional grunts.

At one point, you made some offhand comment about the team’s latest ridiculous antics, and Roy snorted.

An actual snort.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Did you just—”

“Shut up,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a grin.

And that’s when you realized—

Roy Kent liked talking to you.

Maybe not in the way he liked coaching, or the way he tolerated his friends, but in a quieter, more comfortable way.

And that was something.

⸻

You were never great with crowds.

Not in a panicky way—just in an overwhelming, too many voices, too many eyes kind of way.

Which is why, when you walked into the treatment room one afternoon and found it packed with half the team, the walls suddenly felt too close.

They weren’t doing anything wrong—just joking, laughing, being their usual chaotic selves. But there were too many of them, too much noise, and you felt it creeping in, that familiar tightness in your chest.

You tried to push through it, to focus on the player in front of you, but your hands were shaking slightly, and your breathing felt wrong—too fast, too shallow.

And then—

“Alright, fuck off.”

Roy’s voice cut through the noise like a knife.

The room fell silent.

You blinked, looking up just as Roy crossed his arms, glaring at the players.

“Treatment room’s not a fucking social club,” he grumbled. “Go bother someone else.”

There were a few muttered complaints, but no one argued. Within seconds, the room cleared out, leaving only you and Roy.

The quiet was deafening.

You swallowed hard, not trusting yourself to speak.

Roy studied you for a moment, then sighed. “Come on.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Walk with me,” he said simply.

You hesitated, but he was already heading for the door, not looking back.

After a moment, you followed.

⸻

Roy didn’t say anything as you stepped outside.

The air was crisp, the cool breeze grounding. You focused on the steady rhythm of your footsteps, on the way your breathing slowly started to even out.

After a while, Roy finally spoke.

“They do that a lot?”

You glanced at him. “What?”

“Crowding you like that.”

You hesitated, then shrugged. “It’s not… bad. I just get a little—” You exhaled. “It’s a lot, sometimes.”

Roy nodded like he understood. Maybe he did.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, to your surprise, he said, “Used to be the same.”

You frowned. “Really?”

He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah. When I first started playing, fucking hated how loud the dressing room was. Couldn’t think, couldn’t fucking focus.”

You tilted your head slightly. “What did you do?”

His gaze flickered to you. “Found a way to deal with it.”

You weren’t sure if he meant walking it off or grunting at people until they shut up. Either way, you appreciated the honesty.

For the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again.

After a long pause, you glanced over at Roy and, in a quiet voice, said, “Thanks.”

He just grunted, but you caught the small twitch of his lips.

And somehow, that was enough.

#fluff #comfort #roy kent #roy kent x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso x reader

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