#isaac mcadoo fanfiction

[burnthoneydrops]

can you do a isaac mcadoo of colin trying so hard to wingman for him with the reader who is friends with keeley and colin being (adorably) bad at it but obviously she likes isaac?

Flirting 101 (i.m. x fem!reader)

pairing: isaac mcadoo x fem!reader

word count:

warnings: alcohol, use of y/n, language (maybe)

a/n: awww i loved writing this so much!! all the boys are my favourite so writing for different ones is so much fun! thank you for the request and i hope you like it!!

“Babe, come on! I promise it’s just the restaurant, it’ll be chill!” Keeley’s been begging you to come to a Richmond night with her for the past 20 minutes. 

“Those boys do not know how to be chill,” you shoot back, shutting your laptop, “besides, you just want me to go so you can not-so-subtly push me into Isaac at some point”. 

“What?! I would never! What kind of friend do you think I am?” Keeley tries to look offended but it’s not long before her facade breaks and she laughs. 

“Case in point,” you roll your eyes, putting your laptop in your bag and getting out of your chair. You were thankful to Keeley for getting you a job at her PR firm, as you were one of her best friends, but it was moments like this that made you regret saying yes. You would say you were her best friend, but you do not need the backlash from Rebecca on that, so you settle for being one of them. 

“But you have that pretty top that would be perfect! You know, the black one with the fancy sleeves?” She gestures across her arms in case you forgot where sleeves go. 

“Ugh, fine! But if you try and pull something or it gets super loud or whatever, we’re leaving,” you look her directly in the eye. 

Keeley squeals, gripping you in a tight hug and jumping up and down. “I swear, it’s gonna be fun”. 

To your surprise, you’re sitting at a corner table in Ola’s and everything seems to be going pretty well. Keeley hasn’t really left your side; except for when she ran towards the entrance to trap Rebecca in a bear hug and drag her over to your table. Roy and Jamie were sitting at a table across the aisle from you, and Richard and Dani looked like they were in a very deep conversation about something you didn’t even want to try and guess. You sense a presence walking up beside you and notice Colin placing his beer down on your table. 

“Good evening ladies,” he addresses the table. “Oi, Y/N, didn’t expect to see you here”. 

“Oh, well Keeley basically begged me to come so-” 

“I did not beg!” 

“The security cameras at KJPR beg to differ,” you turn to look at her and she’s quick to shut up.

“Well anyway,” Colin starts, bringing the attention back to him, “could I maybe get you lot a drink? Round on me?” 

The three of you nod before each listing off your preferred drinks. As Rebecca tells Colin what she’d like, you look around the room and catch Isaac’s eyes. He seems to be intently staring at your table and you give him a small smile and a wave before he shakes out of his trance and clears his throat. You shake it off, not wanting to give yourself false hope that he was staring because of you and turn back to the group at hand. 

“Alright, I’ll be right back,” Colin smiles before he leaves to go place the orders. 

“Well that was awfully nice of him,” Keeley comments. 

“A little out of the blue, but yes,” Rebecca adds. 

You eye Keeley suspiciously, making her raise her eyebrows at you. “What?” she questions. 

“I’m not sure you had nothing to do with that”. 

Keeley grabs your hands, keeping them in place on the table, “people are allowed to do nice things for you just because”. 

You don’t have time to argue with her before Colin returns with the drinks, placing them down on the table in front of you. You all thank him again before he heads off back to his seat next to Isaac and the two begin to whisper. Before you can think about it too long, Rebecca grabs your attention again. 

“So, any news to update me on ladies? How’s life at KJPR?” 

“Oh it’s great! Working with your best friend always makes things better of course-” 

“I thought I was your best friend!” Rebecca interrupts Keeley. 

“I’m allowed to have more than one,” Keeley reassures her. 

“But the whole point of your best friend is that one person is the best. That’s literally what best means-” 

The two are interrupted by another drink being put down on the table. This time it’s Isaac, looking as uncomfortable as ever, standing like a plank at the table’s side. 

“This is for you,” he looks at your forehead, not quite making eye contact as he pushes the drink closer to you. It’s the same one you had told Colin about, though you weren’t even halfway done with that one and you weren’t going to question how Isaac had gotten it so fast. 

“Oh, thanks Isaac,” you reply awkwardly, gripping the glass and moving it that little bit extra away from the edge of the table. You try to suppress how warm your cheeks feel, but you know it’s pretty obvious just by the way Keeley and Rebecca are acting out of your peripheral vision. He nods and walks away and you want to slam your head on the table with how awkward you just were. 

“Oh my god you have to go talk to him,” Keeley exclaims. 

“No, I am absolutely not doing that!” You lean your head on your crossed arms so you’re looking down at your lap. 

“He bought you a drink, babes, that’s like flirting 101!” 

“No! Jesus Christ that interaction was awkward enough, I don’t need to make it worse”. 

“Come on! Woman up for God’s sake!” Rebecca laughs, kicking you under the table. 

“Ok! But only because that hurt,” you rub your shin before grabbing a napkin and a pen out of your bag. “But once I do this, I’m leaving,” you announce to the two of them and Keeley nods, getting ready to follow you out. 

You scribble a note and your phone number onto the napkin, quickly standing up and pushing your chair back before making your way over to the table Isaac was sitting at. You drop the napkin in front of him, not even checking if it actually landed on the table, thank him quietly for the drink once again and bolt out of there. 

If you wanted my number, you could have just asked :) 

+**-***-***-****

-Y/N

“You did it!” Keeley cheers as she closes the door to Ola’s behind her, following you to the car. She’s a giggling mess beside you, and it doesn’t take long before you join her, hoping you did the right thing.

[rqgnarok]

delicate - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 3,589

warnings: no mentions of specific pronouns for reader, jamie being a lil self deprecating, mentions of his dad, allusions to smut but, like, barely. set in season 2.

summary: jamie hadn’t planned on dating. his reputation’s never been worse. but then he met you.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Jamie’s nervous.

This shouldn’t even be happening. Dating had been the last thing on his mind after his life fell apart. Leaving Man City, joining and being kicked out of a reality show, and coming back to Richmond with his tail between his legs– it had all been a domino effect; a very bad, terrible, decision after another. 

Jamie hadn’t planned on dating. His reputation’s never been worse. But then he met you. 

He’d gone out to some dive bar with a so-called friend of his– some guy he met during the production of Love Island that loved weed and Jamie’s connections– on a fucking Tuesday, of all days. Jamie was supposed to be in bed because training started at 7 sharp the next morning, and the last thing he needed was to show up late and tired. Instead, he’d been in a back alleyway behind a club downtown, moping and drinking his third fruity drink of the night, sweet and heavy with alcohol. 

It was a stupid idea, but he was lonely. The certified-prick plaque that he usually wore so proudly wasn’t so shiny anymore and his dad had been blowing up his phone about everything he was doing wrong– what he wore, how he combed his hair, who he hung out with, the failures that landed him back at Richmond. 

Jamie had been in need of alcohol and human company and up to that point of the night he was 50% on his way. He was considering finishing his drink and calling it a night when the muffled beat of the music inside the building exploded behind him, becoming so much louder it rattled his teeth.

Someone came out the back door, he realized. You; pretty with your own drink in hand, looking around. Your eyes fell on him and he sat a little straighter on the curb, unsure of what kind of attention he was gonna get.

You blinked. “Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting anyone here.”

“Sorry,” he answered automatically. He’d been doing a lot of apologies as of late. “Was a bit stuffy in there, ain’t it? It’s usually alone in here.”

He expected his accent to be a dead giveaway, gearing himself up for a photo or an autograph or a rant about something he’d done to upset you somehow. Instead, you smiled at him and turned towards the ground, shy.

Cute, Jamie had thought. He’d been doomed from the start. 

“Yeah. Don’t know what we were thinking, going out on a Tuesday,” you’d rolled your eyes, referring to the group of friends that had refused to take no for an answer and dragged you clubbing not even halfway through the week. “Like a hangover’s exactly what I need to get through this week.”

“That bad, huh,” Jamie raised his eyebrows in amusement, watching you huff and puff under the streetlight the back of the club offered. He hoped you couldn’t see him very well, his dark jeans and Nikes along with his designer shirt were pretty much footballer prick Jamie Tartt’s trademark, recognizable even to the worst of drunks. But Jamie didn’t want to be recognized, he just wanted to talk to someone. 

“You wouldn’t believe me,” you huffed, sipping your drink and obviously giving him an out. You’d both come out here for some peace and quiet, after all, but Jamie was done with quiet. 

He wanted his friends back. He wanted his efforts to be noticed, for his dad to leave him alone, and to enjoy the company of a pretty stranger at the back of a bar. 

So instead of following your cue, he patted the spot next to him, looking up at you with an attentive expression. “Try me.”

And so you did. You sat next to him and talked until three in the morning. Suddenly the bar was closing and the dark cloud that hung over Jamie’s head for months was momentarily dispersed in your presence. He went home with your number on a napkin and less than four hours to catch up on sleep before he had to go to work, but a happy man.

And, okay, look. Jamie’s popularity is– in the dumps, really. It’s all negativity at this point, and he usually balanced it with good football, but that was back when he took any honest criticism of his person as petty jealousy. Now, with his shattered self-image and after becoming the internet’s laughing stock, he’s been trying his best to keep his head down

since the media and most of England trashes him whenever he dares to take a breath in public. 

At least his mum’s talking to him again, or rather Jamie’s finally picking up when she calls, but things still don’t feel right. He’s playing and getting enough minutes but it’s not a victory if he can’t hug his teammates when he scores a goal. If he comes home to an empty apartment and no messages on his phone, no one to celebrate the night with. 

So, pretty much everyone hates him. Even Keeley’s bordering on forced politeness these days, which says a lot about how badly Jamie’s done it this time, and yet–

And yet. 

“The fuck are you smiling about?” Isaac grunted when he caught sight of Jamie biting back a grin while typing, lacking his usual bruv. Still in the doghouse, apparently. “Won’t kill you to be early for once, ey? Put that fucking thing away.”

Jamie did, not before a quick look at his texts before pressing send.

hey 

its jamie from the bar??

was wondering if u wanted to go out sometime. i really enjoyed spending the other night with u

He spent all training missing his cues, taking fouls from his teammates, and making Ted’s mustache twitch with… not disappointment but something. It made him a little nervous, but any thought about it flew out his head when he got his hands on his phone at the end of the day, your notifications on his lock screen.

Hi, I’d love to!

I really enjoyed being with you too :) 

Is tomorrow night too early?

It wasn’t. But your schedules were nightmares to line up and you spent almost three weeks trying to catch up to each other. You had a work thing, Jamie came back too tired from a game, you had a friend visit, another game was rescheduled… You name it. Anything that could’ve stopped that date from happening happened. 

But neither of you were giving up. While you couldn’t see each other, your text thread grew and grew and grew, never running out of things to talk about. Despite having seen you only once in person, Jamie was pretty sure he knew you better than he’d ever know other girlfriends and boyfriends he’d had. 

When you texted him to get a good night's sleep and when he told you to get home safe, he pretended, only with a little shame, that this was something you did all the time. That when you were on your way to your place he’d be there waiting for you, asleep on the couch because he tried to stay up for you. When you wished him sweet dreams he’d imagine you next to him, tucked close against his side.

He pretended he was yours. All the damn time.  

And this– today– when the planets finally align and a version of his illusions happens to come true, he’s nervous. Can’t help it, no matter how well it’s going. And it is going well, with Jamie in your apartment where you’d set up a nice dinner for both of you, the date you’ve been talking about for almost a month. He would’ve suggested his own place, but it’s filled with football memorabilia and awards he doesn’t want to explain yet. 

He likes how you treat him. You talk to him like he’s a normal bloke you met at a bar and not a celebrity you’re too afraid to even joke around with. 

“Oh, dinner looks ace, love.”

“Yeah? If I accidentally poison you at least it’ll taste good.”

“I’ll die chuffed, at least.”

A snort. “You’re so fucking British.”

“Oh, bug off, please! Thanks! Cheerio!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Didn’t know you were so religious.”

“What can I say, Jay, you make me feel closer to God.”

“Ha! Haven’t even kissed you, yet.”

“You seem awfully confident.”

“Night’s very young, angelface.”

It’s so easy, being with you. Being himself with you. 

So what if you barely even know each other? He already knows all about your childhood dog and you’ve been made aware of what’s it like to grow up in Manchester. But shit, just because Jamie wants to bare his soul to you maybe it doesn’t mean he should. He could at least wait until you’ve seen each other in person more than twice, and yet.

And yet. 

He’s at your place, looking at your record collection, running his fingers over the spines of the books on your shelves. He just ate the pizza you cooked– vegan, because he did mention sometime in the past weeks that he’s on a strict diet regime and the fact that you remembered makes him wanna cry a little. 

He likes you so much. Doesn’t he owe it to you to be honest?

“I gotta tell you something,” he pipes up, obviously catching you off-guard.

“Alright,” you say slowly, leaving your wine glass on the coffee table and scooting to give him space on the couch, arms wrapped around your legs. “Sure. Shoot.”

Jamie sits, messing with his hair and avoiding your eye. He looks behind you at the picture frame hanging on the wall, a photo of you with your friends on a trip you took to the States last summer. The stories you told about them made him laugh so hard that he’d snorted and spilled his drink everywhere.

“I didn’t know how…” he sighs, figuring there’s no use beating around the bush. “Haven’t been completely honest with you, love. About… what I do. Who I am.”

“Jamie–” you begin, consoling and standing up straighter, reaching to place your hand on his arm. He shakes his head.

“I just– I didn’t know how to tell you,” he rushes out, meeting your eye with a pleading expression. How scared he must look right now he doesn’t know, but your features soften even further into something sympathetic, kind. He doesn’t deserve you. “And– and I know we– we’ve barely gone out, yeah, but I– I like you. Fuck, man, I like you so much, but you deserve to know–”

“Jamie,” you say again, firmer. You duck your head to try and meet his eye, searching for his stare. You’re still smiling. You haven’t stopped smiling at him since you met him. “I know. If this is about you being… famous, I know, okay? About everything.”

The anxiety that’s been clawing at his throat freezes and fades, just a little. “You… do?”

Your smile turns sheepish, a little guilty. “I… kind of recognized you the night we met. It took me a minute, but I knew I’d seen you somewhere. Your voice helped, too. I think I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“Oh,” he says, feeling like an idiot. He still wants to cry a little, but it’s less hysterical now. He manages to feel safe in your apartment, a space that screams you everywhere he turns to look. Your photos and posters on the walls, your chipped mugs in the kitchen, your colorful rug under your coffee table with one leg shorter than the others, held up with books underneath it. 

“I sound like a creep,” you admit, embarrassed yourself. “I’m a fan of the sport, is all. But I figured you wouldn’t like to talk about your life with a stranger, so I didn’t push. I’m sorry.”

Jamie shakes his head, finally reaching for the hand you have on his arm. You haven’t been a stranger since that first night. “Don’t be. I should’ve told you from the start. You deserve better than that.”

“Than… you?” Jamie doesn’t reply. His jaw tightens and your voice turns reproachful. “Jamie–”

“The public hates me,” he cuts you off. He hates to say it but you need to hear it. Even if you think you know what his life’s like right now, you don’t know the depth of the mess he’s in. “You… being seen with me will probably ruin your life. Wasn’t fair of me to ask you out and not tell you what comes with it.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Jamie,” you say, instantly fierce and defensive of him. You’re defending him for some reason, and you don’t know half of the things he’s done. “Not the truth, not a damn thing. You don’t need to put your whole life on display just to get me to… to trust you, or something.”

Tears blur his eyesight, but he refuses to cry in front of you. Not on the first date at least. Or is it the second one? Does your late night at the dive bar even count as a date?

“Love,” he says gently, threading lightly. “I’m serious. Wasn’t bluffing when I said I like you. A lot. And I know it’s only been, like, one date–”

“Two,” you pipe in. Jamie can’t help his amusement. That answers his question, he guesses. 

“Two dates, then,” he continues, rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. Your eyes go back and forth from his face to the touch, mesmerized. “But this could be somethin’, you know? Somethin’ good and I don’t want you comin’ into it blind or whatever. I’m not– I ain’t exactly a good person.”

You don’t even blink. “I don’t believe that.”

You’re stubborn. It’d be endearing if Jamie wasn’t so convinced of his shortcomings. “Love, I’m a twat. I’m mean to everyone I know, even people I like. I don’t tip enough at restaurants. Never been a very good boyfriend either. ‘m not sayin’ it to be mean. ‘s just who I am.”

You cup his face with your free hand and Jamie melts into it. It’s the first caring touch he’s been offered in fuck knows how long. “What if I like who you are? Public suicide and all, what if I want to be with you? What if you make me happy, Jamie?”

Jamie can’t see how he would but he doesn’t you to leave, either. Like, ever. “You make me happy, too. It’s like I know you already you know?. From a past life or somethin’, does that make sense?”

Your shocked silence makes him hesitate, his hands twitching in discomfort. “Is that… cool?”

“Cool,” you say, eyes full of wonder and voice a little emotional, pulling him closer before he can do something stupid like let you go. “Jamie, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I met you.” 

A pleasant surprise washes over him, warm. He says, a little choked. “Cool. That’s– that’s cool.”

You grin, trying not to laugh, and cup the back of his neck to bring his mouth to yours. “Cool.”

There’s little talking after that, and who would’ve known your couch is the perfect make out spot? Jamie’s mouth is pilant and responsive against yours, his hands wandering for any skin he can reach and making tiny sounds at the back of his throat that you swallow greedily, unable to get enough of him. 

He leaves your place that night disheveled and happy, kissing you goodbye at least five times (two of them in the hallway before he finally scurries off) and not without making you promise to watch Richmond’s game this weekend. 

It takes you a little too long to clean up after, even if Jamie did wash the dishes you used during dinner (“what kinda guest would I be if I didn’t help? Ma would have a heart attack!”) because you keep bringing your fingers to your lips, tilted upwards in a dreamy smile. 

You make it work. Both you and Jamie continue with your lives trying to be subtle about this new development and a new routine is created; he comes to your place after most games and training unless he’s too tired. Then you meet him at his house, avoiding taking the same roads in case the paparazzi get a bit too creative. 

It’s a little weird. Definitely new, but you find yourself trying to spend as much time as you can with Jamie. Dates at smaller spots and at weird hours; he even takes you running at 4 am once, to which you responded with never again and I’ll forgive you for doing this to me if we share a shower. Needless to say, the early morning wasn’t a total loss.

But your homes turn out to be the safest places to turn to. He becomes ingrained in your apartment as do the flowers he buys for you and puts in a vase on your kitchen table: red chrysanthemums and white clovers, daffodils and heliotropes, blue salvia. 

You once use his phone to order takeout and he has a website on flowers and their meanings open. When he sees you carefully put some of the flowers in a book for safe-keeping, Jamie's face fills you with a need to keep him safe, too, coped up in your home and away from the world that keeps asking too much of him.

His teammates are warming up to him, albeit slowly. Jamie has reassured you he’s alright, that he knows mending the bridges he’d burned on his way out of Richmond will take longer than he’d like, but he’s hopeful about the way things are turning out. 

You feel bad sometimes for keeping him distracted at such pivotal moments in his life of self-reinvention, but he outright refused when you offered to distance yourself a little so he could spend more time with the friends he very clearly cared much about. He was almost offended about it.

We could wait if you want. Maybe it’s too soon to do this yet. I know it’s a delicate situation Jamie, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything.

I don’t wanna wait, Jamie had answered, stubborn. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, pressing you against the kitchen counter. His eyes wouldn’t leave your face. I want you. 

And he has you. Completely and undeniably; this thing between you, this relationship, however delicate, becomes steadier as time passes. You’re already talking about meeting his mom and taking him back to your hometown for a visit, possibilities Jamie could never have dreamed of when he first met you. 

You’d told him during those first dates how unpredictable relationships could be. And neither of you can deny how your personal situation makes things even harder, but that doesn’t mean you’re not willing to try. 

I can’t make any promises of what’ll happen next. No one knows shit these days, Jamie. But I can be with you. And I can make you a drink, if you want. 

He tells you about his dad, too, eventually. In his effort to be more honest with you, even if you tell him multiple times he’s got nothing to make up for. He tells you anyway, wrapped in your arms on your couch while a movie plays in the background, the only source of light in the room. 

Me dad weren’t… you know. Good, or whatever. He’s always thought ‘m too soft and shit. And when I try not to be I… I’m someone I’m not, y’know? Someone I don’t like.

It puts a lot of things into perspective. About when you first met and how he later tried to push you away, convinced he was a terrible person and you wouldn’t want to be with him if you truly knew him. 

What you do want is to track down his dad and, like, throw a brick at his window or something. But you only embrace Jamie tighter, kiss his hair, and don’t mention how tightly he holds your arms to keep them around his torso. If he cries a little, then that’s between you and God, and you’ll die before you ever make fun of him for it.

You wake up one morning to find Jamie staring at you, eyes lidded and sleepy. 

“Dreamin’ of me, angel?”

Your first action of the day is to snort thanks to your fantastic boyfriend. “You wish, handsome.”

“I do wish,” he grins wolfishly. You see his hand sliding through the sheets, moving smoothly and calculated towards your naked body. 

“If you think I’m up for anything before you get some food in me, you’re gonna be awfully disappointed,” glee shines on Jamie’s face and you push it away with your hand, groaning at his dirty-mindedness. “Food, you shameless bastard, I said food. How do you get anything done with your mind stuck in the gutter all the time?”

“Takes some effort,” he says, pride unhurt and still reaching for you. You relent quickly enough, loving the feeling of his hands on you. “Come on, babe, I’ve gotta be up for trainin’ in an hour. We’ve more than enough time, huh?”

“That depends,” you support your head in your hand, elbow digging into your pillow. “What’s in it for me?”

“C’mere and I’ll show ya,” he promises, an endearing frown on his features. “What’re you doin’ all the way over there, anyway?”

He pulls you towards him with ease and you let yourself be caged in his arms, kiss after kiss after kiss.

________

AHHHH HERE IT IS, HERE IT IS

i hope you like it! i kept ya’ll waiting a little but the response was insane!!! i wanted to give you the best i could write AND i wanted to use this fic to thank you for 1.1k! thank you for making me feel so welcome when venturing back into writing and for trusting me with your favorite characters <3 and prepare yourselves bc im making myself put as many fics out this month as i can!

<3

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[its-a-show-stoppin-number]

Me waiting for Isaac Mcadoo, Will Kitman, Sam Obisanya, and Moe Bumbercatch fanfics:

[fangirlofallthefandoms]

Rewatching (I don't want to go to) Chelsea and noticed as Trent is walking in these two are talking.

Which becomes 10x funnier after the latest episode.

[danistartt]

Dirty, Dirty Criminals- Jamie Tartt

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, ted lasso, roy kent, the team warnings: spoilers for mom city, james tartt, injury about: a request about reader comforting jamie and a request about reader calming him down!

You’re inside the Man City locker room when Jamie limps inside, pacing the perimeter of the benches. He pauses to watch you in surprise, remembering the enthusiastic glance the two of you had shared just before he’d come in. He should’ve known the strange strain of your smile was worry.

You turn a corner and catch his eye, features brightening, spine straightening. “Jamie,” you say, eyes constellating down his body. They catch on the rise of his right ankle, the way his shoulders lean to the opposite side. Your eyebrows pinch in worry, stepping toward him.

“What’re you doin’ here?” he asks, letting you help him to a bench. You sit him down and fuss at him, a palm over his cheek to catch his eye.

“You were down for a while, Jamie,” you tell him, pushing back stubborn strands of hair. You watch him for a second more before blinking yourself out of it, stepping back to stare at his ankle. “Are you in pain?” Your face contorts. “I don’t… do you want ice? Painkillers?” You hurry to another bench and grab your medical bag. “I have–”

“I’m okay,” he assures, placing a hand against your forearm. “They gave me the good stuff.”

You nod, searching his face. You glance back down. “Are you okay?”

He hesitates then, gaze drifting away from you to a space above the locker room. You soften, the din whirr of the ending buzzer echoing inside. There’s massive cheering that follows thereafter.

“Okay,” you murmur, already foreseeing the entrance of the team. “That’s okay.” You step closer to him and let him hug you, pushing his head against your stomach. You smooth your fingers through his hair and drop a kiss at the part of his forehead you can see, feeling his fingers fist your shirt. He takes in an unsteady breath, pulling you closer.

The pounding of heavy footsteps shakes the ground lightly, and although they’re still a distance away, Jamie separates, his cheeks flushed. You don’t ask again, brushing a thumb along the delicate skin beneath his eyes and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I’m really proud of you, you know?” you tell him.

He nods. “Thank you.”

Roy comes inside first, glancing around. His features are pulled tightly, a giant grin on his face. The team floods in next, quickly crowding Jamie and you step back to let him celebrate, keeping worried attention on his body language.

-

He sits next to you on the bus ride home, absentmindedly playing with your fingers as he chatters with his teammates, and when you arrive at Richmond, he leans against you and holds your hand, watching the rest of the guys pack up as Isaac makes them promise to drink water on their night out. He heads out, clapping Jamie’s hand. 

“Are you guys gonna join us?” he asks.

You glance at Jamie. “Your choice, babe.”

He shakes his head. “Nah. Gotta get this sorted out.” He gestures to his ankle. “But you have fun with your water, yeah?”

Isaac chuckles, saying goodbye to you before he leaves. Cockburn, Bumbercatch, and Colin leave next. You stand to collect Jamie’s things as he says something to Colin and then Dani, stepping in front of him, his bag slung around your shoulder, once everyone is out.

“Let’s go ice that foot. You ready?”

Jamie hesitates, staring down at his lap. “Actually… can we go home? Do it there?”

You cock your head at him but nod. “Yeah. Of course.” Jamie’s jaw twitches, his bottom lip between his teeth. “Do you need help?”

“No, no,” he reassures, but you’re dumping everyone on the ground already, getting his crutches and helping him slide them on his arms. “Thank you,” he says again, laughing lightly.

“We’re gonna ice it on and off for a few hours, okay?” you tell him, pulling him gently to his feet. “I think I have some of those big wrap-around things already ready.”

He nods, features sorry as he watches you pull on his backpack and your bag. “I can carry that.”

“No. You’re injured.”

“Barely,” he scoffs.

“Don’t make it worse,” you say mildly. “I can do it. Let me help you.”

Jamie purses his lips and accepts it, giving his coaches a two-finger salute as you say goodbye before letting you help him out to the car.

The ride is silent the whole way home��at least in terms of Jamie. He reflects on some of the plays of the game and responds to your questions, but the excitement he’d normally have after a match is faded down to something hazier. Sadder.

You heave a big sigh once you’re finally inside your house, carefully wrapping a long ice pack around his injured ankle. His features are pinched, focus on your hands. You stay crouched even after you’re done, watching him stare blankly.

“Jamie,” you start brittly, a hand crawling up to squeeze one of his. He meets your eyes and you ask, gently, “What’s wrong?”

He purses his lips, tilting his chin up. The angle highlights the sunken crescents under his eyes and the soft wobble of his bottom lip when he breathes out.

“Jamie,” you repeat, edging a little desperate. You stand, looping your arms around his neck like you did in the locker room. He hooks his own arms round your waist, fingers brushing against your skin when he twiddles them. He inhales and exhales shakily.

“I don’t think he went today, my dad.” Jamie doesn’t look at you but takes advantage of your proximity. “I’m glad. But I couldn’t stop thinkin’ he’d just… appear. Like he usually does.” 

“He won’t,” you say. “And if he does, you’re not going to be alone. You’re not going to have to deal with him like you’ve had to before.”

Jamie nods, his tongue convexing his cheek. “Coach said I should think about forgivin’ him.” He plays with the end of your shirt. “For me.”

Your breath stutters, the rest of your body struggling to stay neutral. “Is that what you want?”

He takes a moment to respond, thinking it over. “I dunno. He said it wouldn’t be somethin’ for him but it feels a lot like it.”

“You don’t have to forgive him, Jamie,” you assure. His chin bobs in credence, but he hesitates.

“I don’t want to keep feelin’ like this,” he contends, features conflicted. Pleadingly, he looks up at you. “Do you think it would help? To forgive him?”

“I don’t know,” you admit mournfully. “But it’s not about me. Forgiveness is about you. It’s not about absolvement.” You pause. “I feel like that’s not the right word…” You pause for a second, collecting your thoughts. “I know you carry this, this weight around. And it taints a lot of your choices. What I think Ted’s trying to say is more… letting go of that anger--that thing that makes you need to affect your dad--so it isn’t what holds you together, and you can live for you.” 

Jamie swallows, and you can feel his nod against your stomach, the wet warmth that seeps through your blouse. “I don’t want him in my life.”

You nod. Then, plainly: “He doesn’t have to be. Not at all. It doesn’t matter what happens.” Jamie sniffles, nodding.

After a minute, he breathes out shakily, a morose chuckle finally dipping in something lighter. 

You sneak a few fingers along his face and tuck them under his chin, angling it up very tenderly. His face is streaked sparkly, the pad of your thumb rubbing some of its glitter away. “What is it?”

“Nothin’. It’s just, y’know this is the first time in, like, a week I haven’t felt this huge weight on my chest?”

“A week?”

“It left when we went to my mom’s. And then, shwoop. Right back on me ribs a little after.” 

You dwell on this, fingers tracing lazily along Jamie’s face. “What do you think it was?”

He shrugs. “As long as it’s gone.”

You nod, the slants of his features making you change the subject. “How’s your ankle?”

Jamie looks down at it and purses his lips.

“Here.” You back away, urging him to put his foot up on a little mountain of pillows you throw together. “I’ll get you some water and I think we still have some stew in the fridge from a few days ago…”

“Stew?” he repeats, his question at the beginning of being amused. “Babe, I’m not sick.”

When your eyes meet, he can see the little wrinkle between your brows and the way the edges of your eyes downturn.

“C’mere.” He extends his arms out toward you and fixes his lips into a pout. “‘M pretty sure this is what the doctor ordered.”

You lift a brow, something returning to your features. “Is it? I’ve never heard of it.”

He nods suredly. “S’effective, too.” You roll your eyes, your grin rounding your cheeks.

Then, you sit next to him on the couch and turn him around until his head is on your lap. He hums pleasedly, taking your hand between both of his. “You don’t want any food? A movie?”

“I want to not move for a few hours, to be honest.”

“Fair. You get whatever you want today.”

“It’s eleven.”

“And tomorrow.”

Jamie shifts further into you, eyes fluttering shut with a sigh. He doesn’t go to sleep.

You take his hair into your hands again and contemplate. “You did really good today, Jamie. I’m so proud of you.”

One edge of his lips quirks up, his right eye blinking open to take a peek at you. “I did, didn’t I?”

You shake your head in wonder, staring blankly at an empty point on the wall. “You have no idea how excited we all were.”

“I could hear ya cheerin’ me on.”

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah. Gave me a little boost.”

“Not that you needed it. But happy to help.” You glance at his ankle. “How’s it feeling?”

“It’s not too cold or anythin’.” He looks cheeky. “It’s nice havin’ my girlfriend as my physical therapist.”

“Not yours. Legally. For the whole team. Rebecca says, legally, everyone but you.”

He curls his mouth up and thins his eyes in dissent, making a long, thin noise. “The team ain’t on your thighs, though. I am.” He grins. “You’re takin’ care of me.”

You shake your head. “Off the books.”

“Like a criminal? Like a dirty, dirty criminal?”

“No,” you say in surprise. Then you think. “Kind of.”

Jamie laughs, abandoning the quick, harsh pressures he conducts on the tips of your nails to lock his fingers between yours. “That was my dream when I was a lad, did’ya know?”

“No, it was not,” you scoff.

“Well, it should’ve been.” He watches you laugh, brushing his lips over your fingertips. “‘Cuz this is great.”

You can’t help but agree.

[hacash]

"Alright, bruv?"

Sam doesn't even notice Isaac's presence until he thumps the locker next to Sam's head with his fist: the team captain's preferred form of greeting. He jumps, and then with a sigh goes back to staring at his phone. The beaming faces of the newly called-up Nigerian football team, resplendent in green and white. "Huh? Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

"Bullshit," Isaac scoffs. "C'mon, what's wrong?"

Sam doesn't want to admit that anything's wrong. Treat your wins with humility and your losses with grace, that's what his father always says. But he supposes to do that you have to admit that there was a loss in the first place. Besides, if anyone would understand it's Isaac, Isaac who's never once been called up to the England team, who hadn't even looked up when Beard was reading out the roster. England team's bursting with great players anyway, he'd grunted when Colin had asked if he was alright. Even if I was good enough, don't think they're too keen to call up a guy who tried to throttle someone in the stands a month ago. Their loss then, Colin had said. That's, like, top of my list for qualities of a best mate. Not to mention team captain. Harry Kane's quaking in his boots whenever he sees you on the telly, boyo. And Isaac's face had split into this massive grin, and that had been that. "I just found out Edwin Afuko is the reason I didn't make the Nigerian team," he says. "What - that guy who tried to sign you up to his African super-team?" "Yeah," Sam sighs. "When I turned him down he told me I'd never play for the Nigerian national team. Now I found out he bribed the government - my home, Isaac, the place where I grew up - not to invite me onto the team." "Jesus Christ." "Yeah." "You think it was to do with the Dubai Air protest as well?" Isaac asks. "Like, this guy made us all look like a bunch of corrupt dickheads, we ain't gonna have him represent our country sort of thing?" Sam's eyes widen, and then slam shut as his head falls back against his locker. "Well I do now." "That's bullshit," Isaac announces. For once, Sam is tempted to agree. Isaac is staring intently at the ground. Finally he looks up and clears his throat with uncharacteristic caution. "Would you have done the same thing? The protest, staying at Richmond - if you knew it was gonna go down like this, I mean?" It's something he's not wanted to ask himself: but there it's been, niggling away like some horrible little imp in the back of his mind. Sam thinks about that photograph hanging on his childhood wall, the feeling he had strolling through the British Museum alongside Edwin. He thinks about running over the beaches of Lagos as a child, how it felt to see those pictures of the destruction and the dying animals on those same beaches. The thrill of returning to the Premier League. The teenagers who'd come up to him in the street, newly arrived and still stumbling over their English, thanking him for speaking out even as the glass was still being swept up at Ola's. Men like Gary Lineker and Ian Wright quoting his tweets on Match of the Day, and the UK government not being able to do anything to stop them. The way his heart had skipped, seeing young men just like him playing on Richmond Green wearing his jersey. "Of course I would," he says finally. "I couldn’t have taken a place on the team if it meant not speaking out." "Right. You wouldn't have been happy just sitting down and shutting up. Or playing for some rich prick who bribes people all the time. And it's totally shit, but - I guess it's, like, the price you've gotta pay right now for doing so much awesome stuff." "I suppose it's worth that." They sit together in companionable silence for a little while. Finally Sam sighs. "I still really want to play for the Nigerian national team though, Isaac." Isaac nods and sets an arm around his shoulders. "You will, bruv. I know you will."

-

For @boasamishipper​. There’s something really interesting about seeing reality ensue when Sam faces the backlash of following his heart - but I’d have loved to get a little scene like this.

[sloth-babied]

Love Will Find a Way

Sam Obisanya x reader

Summary: After a year of trying to get over Sam Obisanya, Colin insists you attend a speed dating event with him. 

And would you look at that, Sam’s here too. 

Contains: Drinking, light angst, and fluff. No use of y/n.

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: The fact that there aren't a numerous amount of fics about Sam is actually a crime so I had to step in.

Enjoy!

“Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life,” Colin reads the pink chalk-written words on a wooden A-frame sign in front of the restaurant. He turns to you, pursing his lip while nodding as if he were impressed. 

You simply smile and nod, indulging your friend who suggested you come here with him.

You observe the room once you two enter—the quintessential red and pink balloons at every corner of the room, including pink lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Red and pink decor are set all around the place with a banner hanging maliciously over the seating area:

FOR SINGLES READY FOR LOVE

You sigh before you continue to look around. There’s a lot of older people here; people in their mid-forties and up. Makes sense. Those around your age usually rely on dating apps, but there are a few exceptions which, you guess, is a relief. 

You’re able to identify two other young people and realize one of them is Isaac. And the other is…oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck.

You grab Colin’s bicep, hoping to reroute your plans. “You know what, actually I think I change my mind—”

“Wait, is that Isaac and Sam?” He notices, raising his damn hand excitedly. “Isaac! Sam!” Colin places his fists on his hips, shaking his head. “Who knew they’d be here?”

You give him a hardened stare before offering the other two footballers a disingenuous smile as they walk your way, drinks in hand.

Naturally your eyes drift to Sam and you can’t resist admiring his outfit for the night. A black turtleneck and brown khakis.

This is going to be a long night.

“Wild seein’ you here, innit?” Isaac says.

Colin nods fervently. “Yeah, weird coincidence.”

Sam gestures his drink in your direction. “What brings you here?

Oh, god, he’s talking to you.

You scratch the back of your neck nervously. “Colin was nice enough to invite me,” you tell him, though ‘nice’ is not the word you would honestly use. ‘Cruel’ sounds more accurate, but you digress.

Sam smiles thoughtfully, though he can’t say he doesn’t feel as awkward as you. “I’m sure you’ll find a match. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

You ignore Isaac and Colin glancing at each other, gripping the strap of your tote bag just a tad bit tighter. “And to you, also,” you shoot him a finger-gun with your free hand. “ As well. Too.”

You’re insufferable, but Sam chortles anyway, thank goodness for that.

“Finally got Sam off Bantr.” Isaac pats Sam’s back.

Sam shakes his head. “I deleted my account a long time ago.”

And you know why. It’s hard to think about Sam’s relationship with Rebecca without feeling a little jealous…okay, a lot.

Sam sips his punch. “Isaac suggested I come here, so here I am.”

Ding, ding, ding!

You all turn your heads to a woman holding a call bell in her hand. “The event begins in five minutes!”

And so the night begins.

Each date feels prolonged despite being on a three-minute timer. Many people who are much older than you discuss topics beyond your time or too early in your longevity to experience. And when you meet people around your age, well, let's say a severe lack of chemistry is the only thing that comes into mind.

Admittedly, you debated pregaming before Colin picked you up. You decided against it until you saw Sam here, therefore during the five-minute break, you mumble, "Eh, what the hell?" to yourself before sneaking off to the bar, ordering a shot of tequila before you and Sam meet.

Liquid courage.

Sam greets you with a pursed smile, waving his questionnaire card (cutely) and taking a seat in front of you. "Hi."

“Hey.” You smile back a bit more enthused than usual. Less nervous. More loose.

“So how are your dates going?” Sam wiggles his eyebrows.

You lean forward closer to him, balancing a pen between two fingers. “Hmm. Oh, see that guy over there?”

Sam’s head stealthily turns to the man you point at—slick back gray hair with a salt and pepper beard. 

“Apparently, he owns 0.5% of West Ham.” 

Sam looks back at you, leaning closer. “Dealbreaker?”

You nod exaggeratedly, leaning away. “Very much so, Sam. You know I’m ride-or-die for Richmond.”

He pats his chest, smiling playfully. “I’m flattered.”

From two different areas of the room, Colin and Isaac are seated with their respective dates. Colin and Issac narrow their eyes on you and Sam, shushing their poor dates whenever they attempt to speak.

When you feel your neck practically burning, you swivel your stool, catching them do a questionable job at pretending they weren’t just hyper-focused on you and Sam.

Colin mouths fake words to his very confused date who will certainly write him off later. Isaac looks upward, chin on his palm, eyes squinted, and mouth parted as if he were in deep thought.

“Okay…” You murmur to yourself before facing Sam again. “How about you, huh? Meet anyone you fancy yet?”

He offers a sigh, tilting his head towards his previous date. “See that woman over there?”

You discreetly look to the left and see an elderly woman speaking with her date, a man fortunately around her age. They seem to be hitting it off.

Sam shakes his head, feigning a disappointed sigh. “I thought we had something.”

“Another older white woman stolen from you, man. You gonna take that?” You tilt your upper body towards the perhaps soon-to-be couple before sipping your ice water.

Sam’s shoulders bounce, chuckling. He turns to them. “Yes, I am.”

You also turn, feeling envious from the sight. You observe the woman’s incredibly pink face and the subtle red on the olive-skinned man’s cheeks. Mutually smitten.

You and Sam face each other in unison, both of your hands below the table as you lean your torsos against the round table. Sam’s hands clasp beneath the surface while yours continue to fiddle with your pen.

Colin hides behind his questionnaire paper below his eyes—espionage still at work—and Isaac ignores his date once again, enthralled by your date as if it were a movie. 

If only there were popcorn, he thinks.

Sam says your name, but you’re stuck in his trance, buzzed and hypnotized. His voice swims around the atmosphere he tends to unintentionally create whenever you speak to him.

Then you remember what occurred a year ago; you remember the reason why you slightly furthered yourself from him in hopes of moving on. Frankly, it didn’t work very well.

Isaac’s brows furrow even deeper than usual, and he looks over at Colin who shrugs at him, sharing the same concern as you back away from Sam. You sober your deluded mind with another drink of water, reminding yourself that Sam is just…Sam. He’s naturally kind, charming, and genuine. He gets along with everyone. You’re not special.

You hold your questionnaire out, smiling tightly. “What am I doing? We’re supposed to be asking each other questions. Uh, okay, let’s see.” You scan your sheet. “What’s your dream career?” You ask hastily. You awkwardly laugh at yourself. “That’s a stupid question.”

Sam repeats your name, but you’re too lost rambling about the stupid questions in your hand.

“Where are you from originally?” You cower behind the paper. “Know that, too. Uhm, okay, let’s see. Oh! Here, if you were an animal, what would you be—”

Sam says your name louder and places his hand on yours, lowering the paper from your face.

“A goldfish. If I were an animal, I’d be a goldfish,” he answers.

You peer down at your hands. “The ten-second memory thing Coach Lasso told you about.”

He slowly pulls his hand off yours, but it sits close by. He nods. “Exactly. There are certain things I want to forget; things I cannot change. But there are things that I can change.”

Things he can change? Where is he going with this?

He continues. “Last year when you asked me—”

Ding, ding, ding, you both hear, jumping at the sound of the call bell. Chairs scrape the red-checkered floor and the sound of shoes patter all around you. Time to go.

“See ya, Sam,” you hurry to your next date who just so happens to be the captain of the Richmond football team. “Isaac, hey.”

He simply shakes his head. 

Four more rounds pass until the host of the speed dating event gives out the last announcement.

“Alright, everyone! Whoever you scored most with is your match. Say ‘hi’ to your potential partner! And give yourselves a round of applause for putting yourself out there tonight!”

Two pairs of hands clap with her, hands belonging to Colin and Isaac. You refrain from rolling your eyes at them when the bartender approaches you.

“What can I get you?”

“Uh, a Jack and Coke please.” You face her before turning around again.

You observe Sam speaking with one of the organizers of the event. The organizer reluctantly hands Sam his score sheet with a confused expression on her face. He nearly catches you staring until you turn back to the counter.

“One Jack and Coke.” The bartender sets down your drink, but not without noticing you eyeing Sam. She smirks, wiping down a glass cup with a cloth that was previously on her shoulder. (Classic bartender move.) “Obisanya your match?”

You study the small sheet in your hand, analyzing the scores and the contact information of someone already on your phone.

“Oi! How the hell did you match with me?” You hear Isaac stomp behind you. 

You smile mischievously, gesturing your head toward him. 

The bartender nods, pouting her lower lip before finding another customer, and you use the counter to spin yourself around to your distressed friend.

“Maybe we’re soulmates,” you suggest facetiously, lifting your drink towards him.

Truth is, you might have taken a peek at his questionnaire sheet when he kept exchanging looks with Colin. His disappointment earlier combined with Colin’s invasive questions about your date with Sam after you got through all your sessions helped piece things together.

Plus, Colin’s insistence that you come to this event in the first place. 

“Get in line.” He stands with his arms crossed next to Issac.

Isaac sits and harshly waves his sheet. “Why copy my sheet when your real match is-”

Colin clears his throat, poking his elbow against Isaac’s arms.

“Somewhere in this room,” Isaac finishes.

The only one in this room who piqued your interest was Sam. Towards the end, there were potential candidates. However, neither was Sam Obisanya.

You scoff, sipping your drink. “Nice save, Lindsey Lohan. I’ve seen Parent Trap enough times to know what’s going on here.”

You wonder why they’d want to pull something like this, especially after you told them that Sam turned you down. Pestering Sam to go on a stupid date with you is not something you would ever do, nor something a normal person should do, period.

God, you hope Sam doesn’t think you did this on purpose.

Isaac continues to eye you disapprovingly before his gazes shifts upwards to a new presence behind you, this presence being none other than Sam leaning his side against the counter. And now you’re sitting between him and the other two sneaky bastards.

“Sam! Who’d you match with?” Colin reaches in front of you and snatches Sam’s score sheet. He frowns. “No one?”

Isaac yanks the sheet from Colin’s hand. “What? How’s that even possible?”

Sam plucks his sheet back from Isaac, stuffing it in his back pocket. “If it’s alright with you two, I’d like to discuss something with them.” He looks down at you. “Alone.”

Your cheeks burn up, easily. Is it the whiskey? Is it Sam? Either way, you’re taking another sip. 

Isaac gets up immediately, rapidly nodding alongside Colin, saying, “Yeah, ‘course, bruv,” before the two footballers leave, whispering to each other. 

You place your drink down and fold your arms on the counter as Sam sits beside you. 

His sweet smile doesn’t cease. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you respond sheepishly. You take a third sip before speaking again. “So no one, huh?”

Sam shakes his head. “Thought I maybe had a chance with her,” he jokes.

You find the elderly lady from earlier matched with the elderly man. He leans on his cane with one hand and his other hand snakes around his date’s arm, hooking it with his. 

Maybe speed dates work after all. 

“Who’d you match with?” He asks curiously. You hand him your sheet. “Isaac? How did that happen? Wasn’t he just glaring at you the whole date?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” You laugh, placing the paper back on counter.

Wait a second. Sam was watching you?

You try not to look too much into it.

He reaches for his earlobe, lightly tugging at it. “There was something I wanted to tell you before our date ended.”

Oh, god. Is he going to admit how uncomfortable you make him? Is he ending your friendship right now? Yeah, you added some distance between the two of you, but in your defense, you had no intentions of actually ending your relationship.

He speaks a little louder. “Last year, you told me you liked me. Romantically.”

Fuck, you despise the recap.

“And I told you I didn’t feel the same way.”

You clasp your hand around your glass, however Sam stops you, hand on yours.

“Let me finish. Please.”

You dubiously comply, releasing your hand from the cup and nod, letting him continue with whatever gut-wrenching news is going to wreck you for the next few months.

Your head faces his direction, but you stare off at nothing in particular.

He continues. “I was telling the truth when I said I didn’t feel the same way. But as time passed, the more we got to know each other and the more things in my love life started to unravel, I started to fall in love.”

You furrow your brows, meeting your eyes with his. 

“With you,” he adds. “And I understand if you don’t feel the same way anymore. But I just…wanted to tell you how I felt.”

What the hell is happening? This is a prank, right? 

You take a look behind you, wondering if perhaps there was someone beside or behind you who he was confessing his feelings to instead.

Nope, just you. You’re barely tipsy, so there’s no way you’re misunderstanding him. 

You remain quiet, not quite sure what to say. The expression on your face worries him and he calls your name.

You softly shake your head. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” 

Now it’s Sam’s turn to internally freak out. He glances at your drink, wondering if he could ask for a gulp.

“Uh…” Sam tugs at his earlobe again and chuckles nervously. “I like you?”

Maybe two sips, he thinks. Three? No, no, that’s irresponsible, he decides.

“Can I have a glass of water please?” He raises his palm at the bartender, politely ordering to fill the silence.

You grab his wrist and lower his hand on the counter, sliding your hand over his, adding, “Make that two,” to his order, because there is absolutely no way you’re getting drunk after what he just told you.

Sam looks away from the bartender and he takes notice of your hands. His ears warm up.

“Definitely wanna be sober for this,” you tell him quietly, and the edges of his lips curve upward. Hesitantly, he entwines his fingers through yours like they belong there.

“Two waters.” The bartender drops off your drinks, glancing at your hands. She raises her brows before leaving you alone.

Sam uncombs his fingers from yours, getting up from his chair. He moves closer to you and spins you by the backrest of your chair, so your body faces him. Then he cups your face. “I don’t know if they allow PDA here, but may I kiss you?”

You gently hold on to his wrists. “They host speed dates every week. I’m sure one kiss is fine.”

He giggles, moving his face closer to yours, murmuring, “One kiss?”

You flicker your gaze between his eyes and mouth. “Or two.” You shrug. “But yes. You may.”

Sam licks his lips before sinking them into yours, and his eyes and yours instinctively shut. You inhale deeply through your nose, breathing in the person you didn’t know would expect to eventually reciprocate your feelings.

His lips are so soft, pillowy against your own. He massages his lips on yours, enveloping himself deeper against you by tilting his head. You feel lightheaded—a delightful combination of his kissing skills and the faded work of the alcohol you ingested earlier. 

Your daydreams do not serve the real thing.

You’re the first to pull away, catching your breath. “Seriously though, how didn’t you match with anybody?”

Sam smiles proudly and pecks your lips. “I asked one of the event-coordinators not to score my sheet. Told her I changed my mind.”

You stand, removing his hands from your face without letting go. “Good.”

From a distance, Colin and Isaac sit at a table, gazing at the other couple like before.

Isaac holds his plastic cup out, smirking. “Too easy, man.”

Colin clinks his cup against Isaac’s. “Too easy.”

[selmasemlan]

Why didn't he tell me?

Why didn't he tell me?

Author note: Hiiii!, Im back with another fic, from another fandom. Please do not judge me and my multi-fandomness. I love this man, just want to hug him and not let go.

Warning: None, just a lot of freaking fluff and soft sweets

Word count: 1422

Song Inspiration: none this time, shocker!!

Imagine this......

"Babe, I´m home!"

It had been a long day of training and Isaac was looking forward to just resting in his bed with his beautiful girl.

Because of the relentless training and preparations for the ongoing season, he didn't get as much time with you as he wanted. The relationship wasn't new, having been together for a few years. Isaac was counting the day till he could propose to you. But with both your jobs, him a footballer and you (your/choice/of/work) it was hard to get time together.

It was frustrating and it didn't help with him being captain of the team. The stress was endless. Him not having his girl there to comfort him and give him good advice brought even more anger to his body.

But today was different. There was a different type of anger running through his body. His best friend, Colin had kept a secret from him and he felt like a failure. A failure as a friend. He couldn't understand why his best friend didn't tell him that he was gay. They were, are great friends and always have each other's backs. They are ride or dies.

Maybe he isn't seeing the whole picture. Maybe he couldn't understand it because he is just him, Isaac McAdoo, straight him. And maybe it was because ever since he found out about Colin, he had ignored him and refused to talk to him. Childish of him to do, yes. But he was hurt.

Nevertheless, now he only wanted his girl and his girl alone. She knew how to help him, make him forget how idiotically stupid he acted during the match today. He can't understand how he blew up in a fan's face, yet he understands. Even though he and Colin were not fine right now, he was still his brother, his best friend.

"Babe?"

Normally when he gets home you would greet him at the door, but tonight the house was quiet and still. He leaves his bags at the door and walks to the living room. He sees light, the tv on a channel running a story about the match today. And right there on the sofa, is a smaller figure covered in a light blanket.

His girl.

She must have fallen asleep while waiting for him. His perfect girl. His considerable sweet girl. He walks up to her form and brushes off some hair on her face. He can feel how his body slowly stops shaking and his heart calms. The effect this girl has on him is extraordinary. If only he could have her with him everywhere. Maybe today's incident wouldn't have happened. He could have avoided it all.

He shakes her softly.

"Babe, you got to wake up. Can't sleep on the sofa, sweets. Youll break your neck"

She mumbles something he can't comprehend and turns her face into his hand. Noticing the warmth of his hand, she turns to look at him with one of her adorable smiles that hits him in the heart. Every time, he has to take a moment for himself to collect his mind. Stop himself from just squealing like a little girl getting a new doll.

"Hi babe", he says softly, as if he was afraid to scare off a little lamb.

"You're back darling!", she says happy, but with some sleep still in her voice.

He just chuckles and nods

"Yeah, I'm home"

She stretches for a moment and he just watches her. His gorgeous girl. Gosh, why hasn't he proposed yet to her? He wants to spend the rest of his days just breathing the same air as her. If the boys could see him now, the teasing would never stop. The teasing would continue to the day he dies and he would not mind at all. He wants the world to know how down he is for his girl. He wants the entire population of the planet to know how he would give them all up for his girl. Call him crazy, but if he had to choose to save the world or her, he would choose his girl. He didn't care if the world died, the only thing he needed in his life was his girl.

His beautiful girl.

"You wanna talk about what happened today?", she says yawning

He shakes his head and says, "It can wait sweets. You look tired"

She looks at him as if to check if he was being truthful. She knew him better than anyone else and could see that it was bothering him. That it had bothered him for a while.

She shakes hear and says, "Nope, not going back to sleep until you talk about it"

He was no longer looking at her but at the wall behind her. How can he explain to her that he was being immature about something and now he didn't know what to do about it? He felt ashamed. He knew what he had to do. Just looking at her he could see it. Why was he being a baby about this?

"What's going on Isaac?"

Not the first name. She never calls him by his first name. It's always babe or darling. She was being serious. Dame her and her beautiful eyes that could see his soul.

"Colin is gay"

She looks at him confused, one of her eyebrows lifted. It didn't look like the information was being processed and before he can repeat himself, she says, "Yeah, so what?"

He's the one now looking confused.

"What you mean 'so what'? You speaking as if you already knew"

Everything is still for a moment and the movement he gets from her is a short "eeeeeh".

"You knew!", he almost shouts in disbelief.

"I thought everyone knew, it´s obvious. For me at least", she says sheepishly

"For you?"

He is still in complete disbelief. You guys hang out together all 3 all the time, but Isaac has known Colin much longer than her.

"Yeah, us girls are pretty good at spotting that, you know we have a gaydar, kind of", she tries explaining to her boyfriend who seems lost in body and mind.

"I can't believe this", is the only thing coming from him.

She watches him in confusion.

"Why are you really mad, Isaac", she asks softly

Isaac pauses. Here it was. The truth was going to come out. He had been too obvious with how he felt about this and her knowing him so well, knew that it definitely had nothing to do about Colin being gay. It was about something else completely different.

Isaac takes a breath. Maybe this breath, the oxygen would make him braver. He had nothing to hide from her, especially from her. She´s the smart one, the mature one. She probably will get him. She will get him.

So he tells her. How he feels like a disappointment. That he didn't understand how Colin could keep this a secret from him.

"I mean, do I seem like a homophobe? Does something about me say I'm not open-minded?", he asks looking like a child who cant find their favorite toy.

She giggles while throwing her arms around his neck.

"Babe, nothing about you screams any of that. Do you look big and intimidating? Yes!"

She turns his face to her and gives him an eskimo kiss.

"Do you look like you could play Killmonger? Yes!"

They laugh lightly and Isaac grabs her by the waist. Lifting her a bit to set her down on his lap. Her arms return to their place around his neck and shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, wishing to freeze it forever. Isaac puts his forehead against hers and stares into her eyes. The eyes that see the truth of his soul.

"What should I do?", he whispers.

And she smiles. One of those smiles that makes him weak. That wants to make his heart stop and at the same time explode.

"You should put your big boy pants on and talk to your best friend", she answers in a whisper.

He nods, agreeing with her. That was the answer all along and he knew it. He just needed his girl, his best girl to tell him the truth straight to his face. Sometimes when his courage was hiding in the deepest parts of his mind, he needed her to bring it out for him.

"I love you", he whispers as if it was a secret and not the obvious truth.

"I love you too"

[threewaywithdelusion]

Someone who's good at internet-speak (ie, not me) should write a fic about Richmond's crusade against homophobia, but in the format of posts and articles.

It starts when Isaac attacks the fan at the Richmond v. Brighton game. The tv cameras didn't catch what the fan said, only Isaac's reaction, but maybe people filmed it and put it online or maybe the fan does an angry Tiktok video or whatever. Unconfirmed rumors start that Isaac threw hands because of the f-slur. A lot of people don't believe it, because why would a (presumably straight) footballer care about something like that? Some queer fans are touched that someone cares about that language being used in football. Others are outraged that a team captain would get himself red-carded over something so minor.

Several months later (next season, after Ted's already gone home), a fan for the opposing team shouts something kind of homophobic from the stands. (This is in a world where either Colin and Michael didn't kiss after beating West Ham or miraculously zero people saw it and filmed it and posted it, so Colin isn't out). Some of the players stand at the corner of the pitch and begin shouting back at the fan, heckling them, but without actually going into the stands. Maybe Richard, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas? I feel like Richard would be sassy and Jan Maas would be devastatingly straightforward and Bumbercatch would say something entirely out of pocket.

(Also, Colin wouldn't want to out himself by standing up for himself. Isaac is just fighting to keep his temper and not storm the stands again. Dani and Sam are too nice to yell insults at fans, even homophobic ones. And I literally cannot imagine Jamie is straight, which means he would be trying to fly under the radar just like Colin).

This time, the news hits the internet complete with videos. The players are definitely reacting this way to homophobia and it's blowing everyone's minds. Now the conversation shifts from people trying to say these are baseless rumors to center around two questions: 1) Are the Richmond players right or wrong to care so much about this and to allow it to disrupt matches? Is football about playing or about culture? 2) Why do Richmond players care so much?

There's rampant speculation online: This is Ted's influence, because he's American and they care about all this PC bullshit over there. This is some kind of publicity stunt. One of the players must be gay.

That last one gets some traction, but who is it? Isaac, who was the first one to act upset? Jamie, who *gestures at all of Jamie*? Someone else entirely?

At Richmond matches, some players from the other teams start saying shit to bait Richmond into fouls and yellow cards. As it starts to affect how Richmond plays, even the pundits take notice. The sexuality of the Richmond players is now a full-blown topic of discussion.

Everyone is curious to find out what the hell is going on. Roy gets asked about this every week at the post-game press conference. Clips appear online of players having microphones shoved in their faces and being asked who is the gay player on the team, though they all hold the line and refuse to answer. Entire threads are devoted to speculating about who on the team must be gay.

There should be tweets and tumblr posts and news articles. In the end, either Colin and Michael come out, or RoyJamieKeeley come out. Or both, and the fans are completely overwhelmed that so many of them were right when speculating about the players but also wrong because no one predicted there would be multiple gay players on the team (and coaching staff).

[liesmyth]

Isaac slides off his sunglasses and lays them on the table. “Roy. It’s just… are you alright, man?” “Jesus fucking cocksucking christ,” Roy says heartily. “What’s it to you?”

Roy is weird. Roy has been weird for months now, and someone’s got to do something about it. Isaac steps up.

Or: Roy's S3 Depression Blues. KICKING A BALL around to AVOID talking about YOUR FEELINGS. The POWER OF FRIENDSHIP. And more!

ft: Isaac, Roy, Richmond team ensemble, Jamie, various cameo characters

6k, No Warnings Apply, Rated T. Canon compliant with season 3.

[et-mberg]

Affection (Isaac McAdoo x fem!OC)

This one may be short, but I still believe it to be adorable.

Thank you to everyone who liked my post about being interested in possible Isaac McAdoo content.

If you would like to read the actual fanfiction (that has only just begun) – you can find it on Wattpad, titled “David Bowie Eyes”

Rhea Ripley as “Bowie” Roscoe

xXx

Just recently Bowie had begun to train with the Boys.

She could no longer work in martial arts, therefore she was much less physically active.

But now, that she could do more extensive training again, having finally fully recovered from her brain surgery, she had to make use of the opportunity.

Sure, she was no footballer, but she certainly could run, do weight training and more similar physical stuff.

She was glad, that not all her hard work in the past had gone to waste during her recovery.

It was after the most recent workout in the gym, when she was sweaty and ready for a shower, that she was approached by the resident Frenchman, “Ma Cherie, I need a favour.”

An eyebrow of suspicion raised and her voice cautious, she agreed, asking what he wanted.

“I have been invited to a wine tasting event by a potential sponsor. I would like to take you with me”

“Okay? Why invite me?”, she was still very much suspicious.

Richard was a flirt, always has been, it was simply a part of him and it did not bother her, it was rather flattering and did good for her self-confidence, but never before had he honestly invited her to something like this, or something without at least one other person from the team.

“We French believe, that beautiful women by our side bring luck”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

That sentence was followed by a loud “Oi!” from Captain Isaac McAdoo.

The amount of “Oi!”s yelled by the guys to get someone’s attention was astounding.

A determined look on his face, well, more determined than usual, he made his way over to Bowie and Richard, the second of whom he did not knowledge for the moment, taking the former’s face gently between his hands.

His voice was stern, possibly somewhat angry, even though his words were most certainly not, “You’re fucking beautiful, Bruv. If beautiful women bring luck, then there is no one else he could take to be luckier.”

Isaac’s next words addressed his teammate, looking at him, but not taking his hands from Bowie’s reddening cheeks, “She’s coming with you. Tell me the dress code and I’ll get her something.”

Isaac looked back to Bowie.

After a determined – that man truly was determination personified - nod, he took advantage of his 13 centimeters height advantage to press a kiss to her forehead and walked away without another word.

Richard was quite amused when he asked, “what just happened?”

Bowie, incredibly confused and flustered, simply answered him, that she would apparently join him before taking her change of clothes and walking off to take a shower, knowing that her boys had enough respect for her, to not peek.

And knowing that Roy and Isaac would hurt anyone who tried.

The Richmond players had better things to do, to even think about that, anyway – an animated discussion:

How did those two think, that they were not together?!

[burnthoneydrops]

masterlist

bridgerton

What Time Has Done [Benedict Bridgerton x original character series]

Subtle(tea) [Benedict Bridgerton x reader request]

A Proposal of Convenience [Anthony Bridgerton x reader request]

Moonlit Confessions [A proposal of convenience pt 2 (Anthony Bridgerton x reader)]

The Sun and the Moon [Eloise Bridgerton x original character series]

The Sun and the Moon ii [^^]

The Language of Flowers [Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader]

Lavender's Blue, Dilly Dilly [Colin Bridgerton x fem!reader]

Paper Flowers [Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (Language of Flowers pt.2)]

spider-man

Is That my Sweatshirt? [Peter Parker x gn!reader)

stranger things

Blonde [Robin Buckley x fem!reader]

Meet the Parents [jonathan byers x reader]

daisy jones and the six

Coffee and Donuts [Graham Dunne x gn!reader]

luckiest man on the planet [graham dunne x fem!reader]

ted lasso

Like I Always Do [sam obisanya x fem!reader]

Drunk in the Back of the Car [Jamie Tartt x fem!reader]

Flirting 101 [isaac mcadoo x fem!reader]

Tickle Fight [jamie tartt x gn!reader]

Home for the Holidays [sam obisanya x reader]

the ballad of songbirds and snakes

loverboys on our hands [sejanus plinth x covey!reader]

lest beauty be wasted [sejanus plinth x covey!reader]

[writer-and-thrasher]

The Dichotomy of a Friend

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ted Lasso (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Characters: Colin Hughes, Isaac McAdoo, Trent Crimm, Roy Kent, Trent Crimm's Daughter, Trent Crimm's Ex-Wife, AFC Richmond Players (Ted Lasso), Ted Lasso Additional Tags: Character Study, Canon Compliant, Missing Scene, Episode: s03e09 La Locker Room Aux Folles (Ted Lasso), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Homophobia, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, sorta, Homophobic Language, More Homophobic Language Than in Canon, Homophobic Violence (past), LGBTQ Themes, Friendship, Team as Family, The Author is a Lesbian Your Honor, I have to say it this time, Because I wanna fuck Trent's Ex-Wife, Trent Crimm's Crush on Ted Lasso, It features heavily

Summary:

Colin was adamant about maintaining his well-crafted disguise, and Trent couldn’t begrudge him that. So there were no rendezvous or late-night text messages or even casual hangouts. Just because Colin now had someone who saw him in the closet didn’t mean he was keen to crack the door open any wider. He’d been doing just fine without Trent, and he could be fine for longer with him.

Which is why Colin’s presence in the office, clearly to talk to Trent individually, is so alarming. The blinds are open, his teammates are feet away, and yet Colin is breaking every rule he has to talk to Trent right now. ________ Or, Trent's perspective on Colin and Isaac's fraying friendship.

SEE NOTES FOR RATING AND WARNING-RELATED INFORMATION

---

It took me over a month extra to write it, so I more than doubled the word count for what I expected -- seemed fair. For real, though, I really hope you enjoy this, it's a huge labor of love for me, so let me know what you think!

[sillygooseassociation]

Sweater Lovin'

Request: I have thought of a request for you! Matching "Ugly" Christmas sweaters with Ted -@believemetheodore 💕💕💕 Ps happy holidays! 

Description: You and Ted decide that AFC Richmond's holiday ugly sweater party is the perfect time to not only tell the team about your relationship, but tell the world as well.

Warning: mentions of ted's big dick lol

Pairing: Ted Lasso x reader

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: i did it! i got another holiday fic out before Christmas was over! Well, technically Christmas is over where I am (it's 1am), but it's not over for all of the world yet, so I'm considering that a win. 4 more holiday fics to go, two for jason and two for ted (one for each containing smut 👀) and then we'll be back to our regularly scheduled program. happy holidays, please enjoy! oh also, all of the sweaters are linked in the fic! i really hope you like all of the sweaters, i worked very hard to find ones i thought were great for each character specifically.

-

A chill runs through your body as you brought your hand down from knocking on Ted’s door, the Richmond puffer wrapped around your body clearly not doing enough to keep you warm. As you attempted to warm your hands by blowing on them while rubbing them together, Ted opened the door, a bright smile on his face, “Hey there, honey!” The mustached man pulled you into a sweet kiss, his hands resting on your biceps before he pulls away, “Let me put on my sweater and I’ll be ready to go!”

The man skirted away in his collared white button-up, heading back to his room as you walk around the living room, taking in the boxes scattered around the room. Even though Ted wasn’t the one moving, you were joining him in his flat, he was quick to offer to donate some of his things, wanting to make sure there was space for your things, “It was my place first darling, but it wasn’t really home until you came along, so I don’t want it to feel like it’s anymore mine than it is yours”. Your entire apartment resembled his living room, though all of your belongings were packed as opposed to only some of his things. As you looked around the room, coming up with some ideas for which decorations and photos would go where, Ted enters the room, dressed in his sweater, “Ready, sweetheart?”

You turn to him with a sweet smile, nodding as you both journey to the door, Ted taking his puffer off the hook and incidentally matching you. After locking up the flat, you and Ted begin the trip to Nelson Road, your fingertips brushing each other every so often as you walk, both of you having to work hard to not lace your fingers together. “You think they’ll be surprised?” Ted chuckles at your question, not at all annoyed despite you asking this question god knows how many times over the past week. “Well, Beard and Keeley know, so we know there will be no shock there. Roy seems to know everything, and even if he was surprised, it’s not like we’d know.” You giggle at that, Roy is a close friend to both of you and even if you can read him better than when you first met him, the man didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve by any means. 

Ted glances at you, a soft smile on his face as you laugh, his pupils practically forming hearts as he looks at you. The two of you crossed the street, switching from the park to a sidewalk bordering the street, Ted subtly switching to your left side, acting as a buffer in between you and the street, before he continues, “Boss signed off on our HR paperwork and Higgins processed it so obviously they know. Now, the boys? I’m not sure. As much as they tease me whenever they catch me lookin’ at you, I don’t know if they actually think I have it in me to win you over.” A boisterous laugh leaves your mouth as you lightly slap Ted’s arm, “You did not do any winning over, you know that.” 

He mirrors your laugh, throwing his arm across your shoulders, feeling safe enough to do so with the sunlight subtly disappearing and a barren block of the street, “I’m not sure about that honey, I did manage to convince you to move in with me after only eight months. And we both know how out of my league you are.” You jokingly roll your eyes at his comment, shoving him off of you, your action met with his beautiful laugh, “We both know that no convincing happened, Teddy. I practically begged you to let me move in as soon as possible when you asked me.” 

You place your left hand on his forearm to stop him, turning him to face you as you glance around, making sure the coast is clear before looking back at him. “And, I am not out of your league in any way, my love. I mean just look at you,” Ted blushes as you run your fingers through the graying stubble along his jaw. “I’m with the most gorgeous man alive. Not to mention he has a huge fucking di…” “Whoa whoa whoa,” Ted’s face quickly turns red, stepping closer to you and covering your mouth with his hand, “Let’s not do that here, yeah?” Your eyes twinkle at him as you run the tip of your tongue along one of the lines in his palm, a choice that Ted groans at, “Darlin’, we are not skipping this party, so you’re gonna need to stop this before we have a problem downstairs.”

A chuckle comes from your lips as you back away, continuing your journey down the sidewalk, Ted quickly falling in step with you. “Putting all that aside until later tonight, we’re both lucky, okay?” A smile rests on Ted’s face as the two of you arrive at Nelson Road, heading to the back door, “Agree to agree, honey.” Though outside the thick-walled building, you swear that you can hear the loud music and cheers of the team from here. Ted opens the door for you, the break in the fortress’s protection confirming that you were in fact hearing the noise of some of your favorite people.

Rather than entering through locker room doors in the hallway, you and Ted enter his office first, dropping off your puffers before joining the party, seeming to be the last to arrive. The room erupts in cheers when they see the both of you, excited with your presence and seemingly not paying attention to your sweaters, “There you are, the best part of the Greyhounds’ management team! Oh, and the gaffer is here too!” The boys howl in laughter at Isaac’s rib at Ted, the team captain has changed out of his traditional secret Santa uniform and instead now wears a black sweater with the words “Big Gift Energy”. 

The two of you laugh at his joke as well, though you know Ted is in agreement with the team’s leader while you are adamant Ted is the best part of the entire beloved team. Sam comes over with two beers, passing one to each of you, a bright smile on his face as he greets you, “Hey, nice sweater there, Sam!” The player thanks his coach, straightening out his sweater that shows an elf and Santa dancing before examining each of your sweaters, most likely preparing to return the compliment. Sam’s smile somehow becomes even brighter, looking up at both of you before tossing you a wink, “I like your sweaters too, nice choice, Coach Lasso.”

You laugh lightly at Sam’s comment as he walks to join his teammates, you imagine spreading the news or sending people in your direction. Ted leans down, his hot breath meeting your ear, sending a chill down your spine, “He’s right you know, I made a great choice.” Before you can respond, Ted is walking around, his voice loud and jolly, apt for the season as he greets the people you both have come to consider family. You hear a gasp that you recognize as Colin’s, turning to see Sam talking to the man dressed in a red sweater with the iconic “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal” line embroidered across it. 

Though before you can respond to his reaction, you are pulled into Keeley’s arms, “Babes, this is great! I’m so glad we found these sweaters, this was the best way for you to tell them!” You chuckle at your best friend, she already knew about your relationship with Ted and yet it seems like she may be the most excited about the news. Pulling away from each other, you take in her outfit, though you helped her find it online, the model-turned-PR manager dressed in knee-high white boots and a short sweater dress with sequin lights across it. Even though Keeley knew about your relationship, you imagine she is this excited since she can now talk about it with Roy, who you now realize is standing with her.

Looking up to greet Roy, possibly the loudest laugh you’ve ever had comes from you, you’re not even quick enough to soften it by covering your mouth. Behind Keeley, Roy stands with a small, proud smirk on his face, dressed in his normal black jeans and a black sweater, though his sweater is covered in pictures of faces, well, one face, specifically, the face of Jamie Tartt. You struggle to hold yourself up as laughter combs through your body, barely noticing when a familiar hand is placed on your lower back, “What’s up with you, darl…” Before Ted can finish his question, he notices Roy’s attire, stifling his own laughter as he raises his eyebrow at the man, “Uh, whatcha got on there, coach?” Roy looks down as though he has no idea why Ted would be asking such a question, looking back up at the now public couple, “The invite said ugly.” 

Another roar of laughter racks through your body, Ted practically having to hold you up as he moves his hand to your hip. Your boyfriend, though incredibly entertained by Roy’s take on the party instructions, attempts to lightheartedly reprimand him, “Now Roy, does that seem like the best way to improve your relationship with Jamie?” Before Roy has a chance to give Ted an answer sure to be riddled with expletives, Jamie joins the conversation as he slings his arm around Roy’s shoulder, “Don’t worry coach, he’s just doin’ this cause ‘e’s jealous of mah sexy face.” You snort at Jamie’s response as well as his sweater, a winking Santa face placed in between the phrase, “Ask your mom if I’m real”, Roy growls at the younger man, “You have five seconds to remove your arm from me, Tartt.” 

Keeley leads the two bickering men away, smiling at you and mouthing “congratulations” to Ted, to which he mouths “thank you” back, excited beyond words that he was standing here not only with you, but with you. You wipe away your tears, your laughter dying down as Ted moves to stand in front of you, “I swear, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” Ted chuckles, more at you than what Roy is wearing, “Yeah, I can see that, sweetheart.” You look around the room, happy to see everyone having a good time before turning back to Ted, the man offering you a cider as he moves to take your beer. He was fucking perfect. You hadn’t even asked him, you hadn’t even had the chance to make a comment about being handed a drink you didn’t like, yet Ted made sure to grab you your favorite drink to replace the beer. 

You smile at the gesture, taking the cider from Ted and giving him your beer, both of you opening the drinks and taking a sip. You just stare at him, in awe of what you have, before his hand comes towards your face, wiping off a drop of cider that gathered on the corner of your mouth. He brings his hand to his mouth, sucking the drop off his digit as you just watch him, “I love you, Teddy.” He smiles brightly at you, “I love you too, hon.” Before you have the chance to make a comment on wanting him to do something else with his thumb later, Rebecca and Higgins join you, Ted moving to stand next to you so that the two can stand across from you. “Well, your shoulders seem much lighter now that this is out in the open,” Rebecca smiles sweetly while Higgins nods in agreement with her comment. 

You open her mouth to thank her but stop yourself, distracted by Leslie’s sweater, an option that you and Ted both quirk your eyebrows at. Of course, the two of you recognized the characters, Henry loved playing the game with Ted over FaceTime, then adding you to the mix after meeting virtually. Ted chuckles at Higgins' pink sweater, as he smoothly slips his free hand into the back pocket of your jeans, certainly excited to be able to touch you in public after eight months in secret, “Hey, Leslie, buddy, why are you wearing an Among Us sweater?” A light seems to go off in Higgins’ head, pointing to Ted as his face lights up, “Among Us! That’s what it is! Rebecca asked me and I just couldn’t remember.” He seems pleased with himself before seeing your still confused faces, “Oh, yes, well I told my boys about the party over breakfast a couple of weeks ago and said I couldn’t find a sweater to wear. They said they had it covered and then gave this to me this morning, I have no idea what sus…mas means though.” 

Higgins shakes away his confusion as he is called away by one of the players, leaving you, Ted, and Rebecca to laugh at your lovable, but sometimes clueless, friend. “Boss, wow, I…love your sweater,” you snort back a laugh at Ted’s compliment as Rebecca dramatically rolls her eyes, “Oh please, Lasso, please save your American niceties tonight. This was out of my choosing, it is all the fault of Keeley and your girlfriend, her girl-next-door aura is truly just an act.” You jokingly scoff at your friend, “Rebecca, just admit it, you bet that you could beat me at trivia at our girl’s night and you lost, simple as that. It’s not my fault that no one can beat me.” 

Ted points at you as he nods, a knowing look on his face, “Yeah, that one I can attest to. No one gets one over on Y/N in pub trivia, Beard and I learned that the hard way.” In the corner of the room, you see Beard relaxing in his chair that he pulled out of the office, his feet propped up on a bench as he reads Little Women, a Christmas classic. Without looking up from his book, Beard shouts in agreement with his best friend, “Beat our asses.” You turn back to Rebecca with an innocent smile and a shrug as she groans, looking down at her red sweater with a wine glass in the middle, encircled by the words “All I want for Christmas is you”, though the word ‘you’ is crossed out and replaced with the word ‘wine’. 

Rebecca bitterly mutters under her breath before you all laugh at the situation, your shared friend complimenting your’s and Ted’s sweaters before, ironically, going to refill her glass of white wine. Alone again, you turn your head to look at Ted, incredibly aware of the placement of his hand as he takes a drink of his beer, “You having fun with your hand back there, Coach Lasso?” A small smirk appears on Ted’s face, side-eyeing you before taking a quick swig of his beer, “Just enjoying the perks, my love.” You chuckle at him before looking back at Beard, surprised by his sweater choice, the words “Die Hard is my favorite Christmas movie” printed across his chest. You look at Ted, who is already looking at you, which brings a light blush to your cheeks, “Is Die Hard really Beard’s favorite Christmas movie?” Ted shakes his head, smiling at your question, “No, his favorite is The Holiday, he loves a classic Nancy Meyers. He just wears that sweater to start a debate.”

You chuckle, not at all surprised that Beard would do that, taking a sip of your cider before turning to see Keeley approaching you with a bright smile, “There’s England’s new favorite power couple!” Both of you laugh at her greeting, Ted taking his hand out of your pocket only to move it to your hip, pulling you into his side. You wrap your arm around his waist, cuddling into his side, “Hey Keels, what’s up?” The look in her eyes tells you she’s up to something, though you have no idea what it could be, “The fans love keeping up with the team, you both know this. So I’m posting photos on the team’s Instagram stories of the party and all the sweaters.” You nod along, suspecting that you know where she’s going with this, but you still want her to ask, “Okay, and…?” Keeley rolls her eyes, after two years of friendship, she knows that you’re making her ask just to be annoying, “Would you be okay with me posting you two in your sweaters?”

Even though you and Ted discussed things like this when deciding to tell the team about your relationship, you looked to him for confirmation. The two of you decided to be completely in the open when you told the players, you would be free to walk to work holding hands instead of walking with Beard in between the two of you as a buffer. This didn’t mean you would be doing any interviews any time soon about the romance between Richmond’s gaffer and physical therapist, but you wouldn’t hide your relationship either. Ted gave you a nod with a small smile, a smile you returned before turning back to Keeley, “Of course, Keeley. Just make sure to tag me so I can put it on my story.” Your friend squealed in excitement as Ted squeezes your hip lightly, knowing just how many times you tearfully complained to him that you couldn’t just post about him on social media like “any normal person”, as you would say. 

Keeley pulls out her phone as Ted takes your cider can from you, placing them on the bench behind you. Running your fingers through your hair, you turn to Ted as you run your tongue over the front of your teeth just in case of runaway lipstick, “Do I look okay?” Ted smiles softly at you, leaning in to kiss between your eyebrows, “Perfect, as always, baby.” You send him a smile before the two of you turn to Keeley who is already snapping pictures, though she defends herself before you can complain, “Don’t worry, those are just for me! Not social media!”

You jokingly roll your eyes before Ted moves to stand behind you, resting his jaw on the side of your head, making sure to stand far enough to the side that his sweater is still visible. Leaning back in his embrace, you smile brightly at the camera as you place your hands over his. The phone flashes, Keeley sending you both a thanks before running off. Both of you chuckle at her and you then turn in Ted’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and playing with the hair on the nape of his neck while he tightens his arms around your waist.

“Have I told you that I love you lately?” You look to the sky and hum as you jokingly think, Ted chuckling lowly at your face, “I don’t know, I think you need to, just to be safe, you know?” Ted nods, leaning close enough for you to share the same air, the end of his mustache hairs tickling your upper lip, “I love you, Y/N.” You smile brightly, scratching at the base of his head with your fingernails, “And I love you, Ted.” 

The two of you meet in a kiss, his scruff (that you begged him to make part of his style at least every so often) brushing against your palm as you move to hold his face in between your hands. The various voices of the room become loud cheers of excitement and a couple ‘get a room’s, the both of you pulling away as Ted releases you to swat away at the boys. A vibration from your phone leads to you pulling it out of your pocket, opening up the Instagram notification, and smiling at what you see. You hold your thumb on the screen to pause the story, enjoying your’s and Ted’s first picture as an official-to-the-world couple. The green of his sweater and the red of yours balance well, emphasizing the holiday season and the reason for your party. 

You select the button to repost on your story, Ted’s arms snaking around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He watches over your shoulder as you add text to the photo, using the red from your sweater to write “Happy Holidays” and the green from his sweater to finish with “from mine to yours”. You rest your head against his as you smile at the photo, Ted’s chest dressed with two honeypots and the words “Oh Honey” in between while your sweater shows two reindeer with the phrase “Oh Deer!” Ted kisses the side of your head as he squeezes his arms just slightly around your waist, “Merry Christmas, honey.” You press post, sharing your love with the world, “Merry Christmas, dear.”

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

Uh oh. Who let the himbos on a boat?

Quick minor whump before I unleash days 15 and 16.

For the day 14 prompt: water inhalation.

Read on ao3.

[darrys-laundry]

HAPPY SUPERBOWL TO TED LASSO 💫

call it what you want by afterafternoons / swiftietartt

not rated • completed • 700 words • afc richmond players & ted lasso

When news breaks about the real star of the Kansas City Chiefs’ game, Colin and Isaac figure it’s time they approach Ted and Coach Beard about the ins and outs of American football.

Read on Ao3