#isaac mcadoo what a man

[angemal]

bringing back kola’s thoughts on santa mcadoo for my own personal insanity

[buginateacup]

Do you think when the team gave Isaac the penalty kick there was an undercurrent of "Well, if he dies, he dies" about the West Ham goalie?

[ridingtedlassosjetskimustache]

LISTEN,

Imma need a scene of Isaac cutting Ted’s hair

[sokkigarden]

dancing with our hands tied (part i)

jamie tartt x female reader // nsfw 18+ // enemies to lovers // fwb

masterlist // read on ao3

summary: wearing the jersey of your self-proclaimed enemy wasn't supposed to go like this.

word count: 2.8k

decided to post this fic to tumblr! not sure if i will be doing a taglist, but i will be tagging each part with jamie tartt x reader + jamie tartt smut so if you are following those tags religiously (like me) then you can find it lol. its also on ao3 and will likely get updated there first if you'd like to subscribe that way. big shoutout to @whimsical-roasting for drafting this in our dms in a haze one night LMAO i would not have been able to write this without her<3333

༻✧✧✧༺

“No no no, there is no way I’m wearing that.”

Opposite of you, your best friend, Laney, stood with two Richmond jerseys in her hands. One said ‘Tartt’ across the back, the other, ‘McAdoo,’ but you already knew which one she wanted to wear. She had a raging crush on Isaac, so that left only one option for you.

And there was no way you were wearing Jamie Tartt’s fucking jersey.

You would never hear the end of it. As part of the team’s physio team, you had a good rapport with most of the players. You complimented them when they had a good match and joked around while working with them through their physical therapy treatments. 

You had a decent working relationship with everyone on the team. 

Everyone except for Jamie Tartt.

There was no question that since his return to Richmond, he had become a changed man, but his past words had left a lingering resentment. You didn’t think you were in the wrong to simply avoid interacting with the man. He hadn’t often been seen in the treatment room, and when he had, you typically passed off his treatment to another member of the team, along with some flimsy excuse for why you couldn’t do it.

But recently, as he trained more with Coach Kent outside of the dog track, he’d needed additional treatment. And as the new lead of the physio team, you were in charge of his treatment plan. 

In recent months, especially since working more closely with him, he’d started to notice the difference in behavior from you, leading to all sorts of jests and confrontations. Now, it seemed like he just got a kick out of teasing and inevitably pissing you off. You couldn’t help but fire some scathing shots back. What started out as a simple plan of avoidance had clearly backfired.

Now everytime he needed assistance with muscle cramps or pain medication, you got a conversation full of sarcasm and questions. It almost felt like sometimes he came in just to rile you up.

Just last week, Jamie came in to check on his ankle after a bad landing at training. You examined his leg and he made comments the entire time you had your hands on him.

“You know, I get waxed. Weekly. Everywhere.”

You had stumbled ever so slightly as you’d gone to grab an ice pack. You cringed inwardly, knowing this would only add more fuel to Jamie’s fire. You were tired of him getting the best of you, making you flustered. You wanted to fight back.

Turning back to him with the ice pack, you stared at him directly.

“Show me,” you challenged.

Jamie’s face held an incredulous expression.

“You mentioned it— you clearly want to,” you reasoned, shrugging your shoulders, “So show me.” 

You hoped your confidence in calling his bluff worked in your favor, and his face showed that he was clearly surprised by this turn of events. You couldn’t tell what he would do next. He rolled his eyes with that smug smirk on his face before he raised his eyebrows and lifted his shirt up. 

Sure enough, his chest was bare, showing off his sculpted muscles.

Jamie leisurely lounged across the treatment table, chest exposed, and you would be lying if you said your mouth didn’t water a little bit at the sight. Even after being around athletes on a daily basis, there was something about Jamie that just— hit different. His cockiness was surely annoying, but it was also incredibly arousing, as much as you hated to admit it. You felt a squeeze in your chest but you bit your tongue to keep yourself in line. There was no way that thought would ever bear fruit.

You shoved the ice pack into his lap, making sure some of it landed on the bare skin of his stomach, watching as he flinched a little bit at the abrupt action and cold temperature of the pack.

“Ice your ankle for twenty minutes, then stay off it the rest of the day,” you informed him, acting like the last few moments hadn’t happened. “You’ll be good to train tomorrow.”

Jamie scoffed at your indifference. He grasped the ice pack fully and let his shirt slide back down. 

“Sure, love, I’ll do that.” 

He knew you hated it when he called you by a pet name. That only made him use them more. You glanced back at him, staring into his eyes for a moment before you grabbed your bag. 

The tension in the room was palpable before you’d headed out to check on the rest of the players at training. You hadn’t said anything else as you’d left.

So, yeah. There was no way Jamie Tartt would ever let you hear the end of it if you showed up in his jersey number. 

“Oh, come on!” Laney pleaded. “I don’t want to wear a jersey alone.”

“Plenty of people do!”

“Yeah, but plenty of people don’t get to go behind the scenes and actually speak to the players,” she gushed. “I don’t want to meet them and look stupid all alone.”

“So instead, you want me to look stupid with you,” you gave her a flat look.

She smiled mischievously. “What? I thought it would be funny. You complain about him all the time.”

If only she fully comprehended the validity behind your complaints.

You knew there was no way you were ever going to win this fight, so you slipped on the jersey and braced for impact. You were happy to have Laney come along to a game, especially since you didn’t always attend matches and her being a big Richmond fan gave you an excuse to watch. You wanted today to be good, not just for you, but for her too. It was exciting to be able to take your best friend on a little ‘backstage’ tour during gameday. 

You hoped today would be good, and that you wouldn’t have any run-ins with the man who made your blood boil.

Alas, not even twenty minutes later, as you walked into the back of the Nelson Road stadium through the employee entrance, you promptly ran into none other than Jamie Tartt.

“Well well well, I didn’t realize someone was such a big fan,” the familiar Mancunian accent taunted behind you. 

You tried not to visibly cringe as you turned around to face Jamie. He was not yet in his kit, still wearing his street clothes: a monochrome denim set. It was frankly unfair how well the jeans fit him, but you refused to let your gaze linger for more than a few seconds. 

“Oh my, it's the infamous Jamie Tartt,” Laney greeted him playfully. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Your jaw clenched at her words as she reached out to shake his hand. He eagerly accepted.

“Have you?” he asked with a mischievous look in your direction that made you roll your eyes.

Laney nodded emphatically. “She talks about you all the time.”

You nudged her shoulder to get her to stop talking but she just looked at you innocently. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it seemed like Jamie did too.

“Oh, does she?” Jamie questioned. 

He was eating this up. His face was smug and you were sure this would haunt you for weeks to come. 

“Laney, why don’t you go get some snacks? Shouldn’t be a line since we are here a bit early. I’ve got to talk to Jamie before the match,” you said. “I’ll meet you at our seats?”

You smiled sweetly at her, but underneath the nice layer, you knew your eyes held an anger that had her quickly waving goodbye and scurrying off. You were more than happy to have her accompany you to a match, but this entire interaction was reminding you of why you hadn’t invited her sooner.

For a moment, you just stared at him. It was hard to look him directly in the eye sometimes. Despite the headstrong front you kept up, you weren’t used to dealing with such interactions. You weren't stupid, you knew that this dance you two engaged in fell close to flirting (at least that’s what Laney said), and when you looked directly at him, you remembered just how fucking hot he was.

It wasn't just his physical attributes. Sure, he was in excellent physical shape, and his hair looked particularly perfect ever since he started going a bit blond, and his lips were always in a little pout, just begging to be kissed. But it was also a little more than that. Seeing him step up to lead as they began Total Football, working as a team player while also getting in extra workouts to be the best he could be. You weren't blind. You could see his internal changes on the outside, somehow. He didn't seem as cold. He didn't seem as distant and prickish. Jamie’s change in demeanor changed how everyone saw him including himself.

And he seemed to look even hotter than he used to.

Was it possible for someone to just keep getting more and more attractive?

It was part of the reason he drove you up the wall. How did he so perfectly remain just a little bit of a prick while also being a better person? And why did he have to look so pretty while doing it? 

More and more people were making their way through the hallway as the dog track got ready for the match, and Jamie still stood in the middle, with an innocent, questioning look directed towards you.

You huffed before you grabbed his arm and shoved him into the treatment room. Even if he was acting oblivious to spectators, you didn’t want to put on a show when you once again ripped him a new one. 

His face was still prickish as you turned to look at him. He was clearly enjoying this much more than you were. 

“So you talk about me when I ain’t around, love?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No, I don’t,” you said firmly. “And don’t call me ‘love.’”

He pursed his lips, “Seems like you do… love.”

He smiled cheekily at you and it took everything in you not to roll your eyes at him. Instead, you crossed your arms and put on what you hoped was your most serious face.

“I talk about everybody,” you defended, but he clearly wasn’t listening.

“Hmmm, and what do you say about me?” Jamie scratched his chin to mock being in deep concentration. 

“Mostly, I tell people you’re a pain in my ass.”

The statement seemed to shock Jamie out of his act and he narrowed his eyes at you. You knew it wasn’t the best idea to have a sparring match with a footballer right before a game. They were pent up with nerves and adrenaline as they prepared. 

After a moment of no response, you expected the conversation to be over and began to move toward the door, when he finally spoke up.

“Bend over, I’ll show you a pain in the ass.”

Now you’re the one who’s speechless. You let out a breathless laugh of shock, before rolling your eyes. You continued on your way to the door, moving to leave him in the room alone. Just as you go past him, he playfully smacks your ass. Before you have a chance to even choose your reaction, you let out what can only be described as a whimper mixed with a moan. 

You whirl around to look at him, and you both seem to be shocked by the noise. You can tell your face is burning with embarrassment as you stare at each other in a momentary state of shock. 

He recovers first, letting out a breath of a laugh. A smirk dances across his face.

“Liked that, did you?” he taunted.

You clearly didn’t recover as quickly, your reply coming out weaker than you’d like. “Shut up, Tartt.”

He stepped a little closer to you, and you stepped back instinctively, before you ran into the table set up next to the door. 

“I liked hearin’ it,” he said, his voice coming out like a rough whisper.

It all happened so fast. One moment you were barely processing how close the two of you were. Making direct eye contact, breathing the same air. In the next moment, you had spun around, shoving your own pants down around your knees as you heard him unzipping his jeans. He gripped your waist as he spanked you again, and you didn’t even try to suppress the moan that left your lips. 

He slid his dick in easily, and you were surprised at how wet you’d become from simply arguing with the man. He held you against his chest as he thrust into you, pressing a messy kiss to your neck, sucking slightly. Part of you was worried about him leaving a mark, but the thought was pushed to the back of your mind as he continued his journey along your neck. He raised your knee higher to rest against the table for a better position, and you groaned in unison as he thrust deeper inside you. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, leaning against him.

“You wanted this real bad, huh, angel?” he asked.

You nearly wept at the pet name. You made a noise of protest, but your voice came out near breathless from the intensity of it all. You felt like your knees would buckle from the sensation, so you gripped the table in an attempt to not fall.

“Fuck you— you wanted it more,” you defended, but just as you spoke, he hit deep inside you and left the end of your sentence turning to mush as you moaned.

The table wasn’t enough to grab onto, so you reached back and started to grip the strands of his hair. He groaned directly into your ear, and you felt your knees nearly give out entirely.

“Damn, you look so pretty with my name on your back and my dick inside you,” he mumbled as he ran his hand up to grip at your throat. The action wasn’t gentle, but the pressure was perfect.

You’d almost forgotten you were wearing his name across the back of your jersey. Of course he would think it was hot.

It surprised you when you realized you found it kind of hot too.

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned, “This isn’t happening again.”

Your harsh words felt like they had no meaning as you bucked against him. His own hips rose up to meet your own. Truth be told, you were getting your shit rocked and were already wondering when you could fuck him again. You felt your brain short circuiting. Your breaths were shallow as he moved his hand up to your mouth.

You bit his hand out of frustration, making him hiss and thrust his hips faster. He shoved his fingers into your mouth and you sucked instinctively, causing him to whine. 

“Jamie,” you gasped around his fingers, “I-I’m close.”

“Me too, love,” he panted in reply. You didn’t have it in you to correct him over the pet name, overcome with the sensations coursing through your body. 

He removed his fingers from your mouth and snaked his hand down your body to find your clit, adding extra pressure. He knows just the right way to move his fingers that has you falling apart in mere moments.

When you come, he turns your head to plant a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips as you both find your release. You find yourself kissing him back intensely, chasing his lips once he finally pulls away.

Your knees are weak at this point, fully leaning against him for support once he finally slips out of you and pulls his jeans back up. Before he has a chance to say anything between breaths, you reach for a towel off the shelves above you and clean yourself off.

You’re still out of breath as you finally look over at him. His face is shiny with sweat and you fear you look the same. You’ll have to stop by the restroom before you meet back up with Laney. 

Laney. 

The thought of your friend has you glancing at the clock on the wall, cursing yourself. Everything starts to come into clear view, and you wonder how you let things go this far. You just fucked Jamie Tartt. How the hell did that just happen?

You press your lips in a firm line. You try to keep your hands from visibly shaking.

“This is never happening again,” you tell him again, as you reach for the door handle to exit. 

As you open the door, Jamie scoffs.

“Sure, love,” he says, sauntering through the door that you opened, “I’ll see you after the match.” 

He leaves you with a wink before heading off to get ready for the match. If you thought he would be unbearable about the jersey, you had just made the entire situation so much worse. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood in the treatment room before you finally left as well.

[crazyk-imagine]

Mended Relationships and the Future

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Fem!reader Characters: Fem!reader, Ted Lasso, Coach Beard, Keeley Jones, Jamie Tartt, Rebecca Welton, Isaac Mcadoo, Colin Hughs, Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Jan Maas, Roy Kent, literally all of the players (I just can’t think of their names) Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of pregnancies, mentions of reader not taking care of themselves (don’t do this), Jamie being sweet, reader and Jamie being dummies for a second, the team being so goddamn adorable, the team gives such family vibes, Jamie pretending the reader and he are engaged so he can stay with her, Ted and Beard are a powerful duo, this is my favorite TL fic that I’ve written Word Count: 3,783

A/N: Bits and pieces are based on this post

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

You walk into the coach’s office with your hands in your hoodie pocket, clutching onto your phone to keep your hands busy. "Why did you wake me up and force me here, Ted?" 

"That's not a can-do attitude." 

Your expression doesn't change, if anything, you look more tired and drained. Another reason why the mustached man got you out of your home. "Ted." 

He sighs. "I wanted to check in on you, haven't seen you in a minute." 

You sigh. "I would prefer it if I were in my bed right now to be honest with you." 

"After we go out to lunch." 

"I want to be out of here before I run into..." You pause when you almost say his name. "You know what- I'm just- I’m gonna go." You barely turn around and hear the door open. 

It takes you less than a second to duck, which makes Ted feel a little bad but doesn't change his mind. 

He knows you two need to talk, especially when neither of you want to admit who broke up with who... or why it happened. 

Your emotions take a toll on your body again and you crawl towards the trash can, dry heaving until you feel it coming up (again). 

Beard kindly closes the door before anyone could walk in or hear you as Ted rubs the space between your shoulders. 

"How long have you been feeling like this?" 

You shrug. 

"How long?" He asks again. 

"A few weeks." 

Ted glances over at his long-time buddy with wide eyes. "Please don't get upset or take offense when I ask this but have you-" 

'Play dumb. Play dumb.' "Have I what? Use words, my brain isn't functioning off your noises." 

"Is there a possibility that you could be, you know, with child?" 

Your head snaps up. 'He knows.' "Why would you ask that?" 

"You have a few of the signs." 

"When was the last time you went to a doctor?" Beard chimes in. 

"A while ago." 

"So, you know?" 

"Whether or not I'm pregnant with my ex-boyfriend’s baby, who coincidentally told me he doesn't want kids just as I wanted to tell him I do. Yeah, it was right as I was about to tell him I am with child, which is why I've been dodging all of you but you and Beard here," you point to Ted's sidekick, who waves. "Dragged me out of my house." 

"Oh, honey." 

"Does he know?" Coach beard intervenes (again). 

"What do you mean?" 

"You said, you wanted to tell him... did you?" Ted politely asks. 

"He broke up with me, so I didn't give him my surprise, but I tell people it was mutual because he asked me if," the tears roll down your cheeks. "If it was okay. The fucking ex-cockiest player of all, asked me if I was going to be okay, so of course I said yes and then he left. We haven't spoken since." 

"He should know." 

"I know but he is scared to death to have his own kids. Why would I-" You scoot back and rest your head against the wall. "I want to go home. I have a few things coming later today and I need to be there for them. It’s time I start," you take a deep breath. “Getting things ready.” 

"We can get those later, I've gotta make sure you're okay right now." 

"I'd be better if this nausea, vomiting combo would go away." 

"Do you want me to have Keeley get you a ginger ale or something?" 

"Yeah." 

The door opens and there she is. She stares at you with the same look she gives you every time you throw up. "I had a feeling you were going to need this." 

-

Jamie sees what he imagines is a glimpse of you sitting in his coach’s office. He furrows his brows, wondering if it was really, you or if it's a figment of his imagination... again. 

It wouldn’t be the first time this week. 

-

"What?" She practically screams when Ted tells her on behalf of you, the Jamie not knowing part; she already knew you were pregnant, but she thought he knew and decided not to be in either of your lives. Now she feels a little bad about not being nice to him. 

You bury your head in your hands. "Shut up. Don't shout anymore, please." 

"Can you blame me? That's big fucking news babes. I thought he already knew." 

"Yeah, I know. Just, shut the door please." 

She doesn't, so you push yourself up and close the door. 

You sway as you take a step back, “oh, boy.” You can hear their voices but not hear their words. You feel yourself falling backwards before it fades to darkness. 

Ted and Beard catch you, carefully laying you down so the latter can call for an ambulance. 

Jamie steps closer to the office, sensing something’s happened. He opens the door and his jaw dropped as he’s about to ask what's going on until his eyes land on you. 

He immediately falls to his knees beside you, holding your face in his hands, not caring about the rug burn that’s going to ache later. "What happened?" 

No one responds. 

"What fucking happened?" 

Ted doesn't feel he should be the one to tell him and does all that he can to try and calm down his player. "She's fine, she probably didn't have enough to eat for breakfast, is all." 

"Bullshit. She's done that before and never fainted before." He stares down, studying your face. "So, why is she fucking unconscious?" 

-

You don't know anything that happened within the last few hours. 

All you know is that there is an annoying beeping sound coming from the side of you and your one hand is warmer than it normally is. 

You slowly open your eyes, blinking multiple times as you try to adjust to the lighting. You look for the source of the warmth and find Jamie, holding your hand with his head rested on his arm with his head facing you. 

The door opens and you find Ted peaking in. 

The way his shoulder sags in relief makes you feel bad. 

He tiptoes closer and lets you know what happened. 

"Why is he here?" 

He smiles as he peaks over at the sleepy man. "He didn't leave your side." 

"How did he know?" 

"He came in as we were calling for an ambulance. You scared him, he would barely let the paramedics help." 

"Isn't family only allowed in here?" 

"Apparently you two are engaged." 

You owlishly blink. "What?" 

"He said you two were engaged and he needed, no, no. That's not right, he demanded, there it is. He demanded to be in the room with you. I wasn't here for most of it. In the room I mean but I think he knows because he looked very shocked and then came in here when they told him he could and hasn’t left since." 

The coach ignores the fact that your heart monitor spikes as you ask, "he knows?" 

"I think so." 

Jamie moves a little in his sleep. 

"That's my cue to leave." 

"Wait- no. Ted. Come back." You glance between him and Jamie. "Ted," you hiss. "Come back here." 

Jamie squeezes your hand as he slowly begins to wake up. 

You look back at him just in time to hear the door close. You throw your head back and sigh. 

"Sweetheart?" 

You slowly turn your head to stare at him, your eyes becoming sad. 

His shoulders sag in relief as a slow sigh escapes his parted lips. "How are you feeling? I should- I should go get the doctor, shouldn't I?" 

You reach for him, grabbing onto him before he could leave. "Jaim. Jaim?" 

He doesn't turn around but settles back into his seat. 

"Jam-Jam?" 

A sniffle fills the room. 

"Jamie, look at me." 

He shakes his head. You tighten your grip on his arm, ignoring the familiar burning sensation in your nose. "Jamie, I need you to look at me." 

"Why?" He sniffles, staring at you with his now, bloodshot eyes. "Were you ever going to tell me?" 

"Don't throw that question my way, Tartt." 

"No more, Jam-Jam?" 

"I was going to tell you." 

"What? After the birth?" 

"I'm more tempted to now." You wipe the stray tear that tipped past your eye lid before he could see. "I initially planned on telling you right when you broke up with me but, we see how well that turned out." 

“Wh- is that what you had been trying to do the whole time?” 

You nod and lean forward, drawing him into you; needing to comfort him and be comforted all at once. 

He moves closer to you, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hand against his face; something he hasn’t felt in what feels like, forever. He hadn’t realized you were wiping away his tears. 

“I wanted to figure out the best way to tell you because, I mean we hadn’t exactly talked about us having kids before and I kind of figured that with everything that went on with your dad. I thought it was going to make it hard for you to think that you could be a good dad. Which, I think is stupid.” 

He opens his mouth to ask what you mean until you continue. 

“I mean, how could you not be a good dad because personally I think you’d be absolutely fucking phenomenal.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nod, “big time. You’re already doing better than your dad.” 

“What do you mean?” 

You smile and sniff. “You’re not making any of the stupid decisions he has.” 

“I made one.” 

You tilt your head. “What was that?” 

“I broke up with you. I just-” He pulls back from you (something he does when he feels like he’s undeserving of something). “I thought- I thought you were pulling away to break up with me and you couldn’t figure out how to do it, so I-” 

“So, you thought breaking up with me first, was a better option?” 

He nods, scratching his head. 

“Come closer.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he weakly argues. 

“Come here.” 

He scoots the chair closer. 

“I need you to be honest with me when I ask these questions, okay?” 

He nods. 

You sigh through your nose and reach for his hand. “Is there any part of you that does not want to be a part of either of our lives?” 

“No.” 

“Do you want to be with me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you going to leave any time soon?” 

“The fuck do you take me for? I’m not going to leave you ever,” he stands up and bends down, staring into your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. “Okay? I love you too fucking much to let you go again. I hated being away from you.” 

“Same here but, I’m really happy you’re here… even if it was because I fainted.” 

“Speaking of, why did that happen exactly?” 

“I- well- I hadn’t had anything-” 

“Let’s just cut the bullshit, have you been taking proper care of yourself since we were separated?” 

You shamefully shake your head. 

He doesn’t show his disappointment, but you know it’s there. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle. 

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry. Isn’t that- crying is stressful on the baby, ain’t it?” 

“Not so much- I mean, maybe?” 

“Okay, well.” He grabs your hands, bringing your attention to him. “Let’s take a few deep breathes so we can calm down for Baby Tartt.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Do do do doo.” 

“Listen to you. Guess I rubbed off on you, eh?” You roll your eyes, not believing that for a second. “Does any of what you’ve said within the last two minutes sound anything like what your dad could say?” 

“Not in the least bit.” 

“See, exactly. It further proves you’re different and how much you’ve grown from the cocky man who couldn’t care less about anyone else.” 

“Hey. That’s someone we don’t speak of.” 

“Of course,” you salute him. You two can barely keep your amusement to yourselves and break into a fit of smiles and giggles. 

He stares at you, watching as you wipe your cheeks and leans up, kissing your forehead before placing his on top of your head. “I was,” he hesitates to finish his sentence. 

You nod and cup his cheek, letting him know you’re there, a simple gesture to let him know you want to hear what he has to say. 

“-so scared when I saw you lying there unconscious.” 

Your heart drops at the way his voice cracks. “Jaim. Jaim. Look at me.” 

He shakes his head. 

You don’t push any further and instead opt for bringing him closer, letting him rest against your chest, squeezing you in a hug. 

It takes a few minutes before Jamie manages to calm himself down enough to revert back to your adorable boyfriend. “Oh, shit. I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?” He asks, now scared to touch you. 

“No. You didn’t.” 

You hold out your hand for him, “do you trust me?” 

He nods, “’course I do.” 

“Give me your hand.” 

He slowly inches his hand closer and closer to you. 

You huff and reach for him. “Are you ready?” 

He doesn’t move or make a noise as you place his hand over your belly. “Am I supposed to be feeling anything?” 

“Other than knowing the fact you are going to be a father soon enough, no. I’m not that far along for us to feel any kicking.” 

He bends down as a breath of relief escapes him. “Thank god, I thought I was supposed to feel kicking or something and I didn’t, which scared me the hell out of me because I thought he already hated me.” 

“He?” 

“I mean, hello,” he gestures to himself. You roll your eyes and take your hand back from him. “You’re so going to be cursed with girls.” “How can you say that?” 

“Have you met yourself?” 

“I have and we’re actually quite happy together, sorry for the late notice, sweetheart.” 

You close your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. 

Ted peaks his head in through the door. “I see you two have talked things out? Hopefully, if not. No pressure. Well, maybe a little seeing as I have everyone waiting in the hall.” 

“Everyone?” You repeat. 

The coach nods. “Give me second.” He looks back over his shoulder, pretending to count, “one, two, four. Yep, everyone.” 

You place your hand on your forehead. “Suddenly the thought of everyone knowing makes me nauseous.” 

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” 

You turn your head and look at your favorite person ever… for now. 

“If we can get through the team being little shits and the press making unnecessary comments about our relationship, we can get through the team knowing.” 

“We can?” He gives you an affirmative nod, “we can.” 

“We can.” 

“Atta girl.” 

“Alright, guys. They said okay,” Ted waves everyone in. 

“I suddenly realize how many of you there actually are,” you comment. 

Sam, Dani, and Colin chuckled. 

“As captain, I feel like it’s my duty to ask,” Isaac leans closer to you, talking to you in a softer tone than his normal one. “How are you?” 

You smile, “I’m better now.” 

“Good, that’s what we like to hear. Ain’t that right, team?” 

“Yes, coach!” 

“And now I’m scared.” 

“Oh, don’t be scared especially when you’re carrying a special bundle of joy,” the mustached man points out. 

“Oh fuck.” 

“Something the matter, Roy?” Ted asks. 

“Yeah. She’s carrying Tartt’s baby.” 

“I’m pretty sure they covered that topic back in school but continue.” 

“There’s going to be a baby brought into the world soon.” 

“Yeah?” Ted glances over at Beard, who shrugs. 

“With his blood coursing through its veins,” he points to your ex-not-ex-boyfriend. 

It’s quiet for three seconds before everyone groans and rolls their eyes, they think about what it could be like with a baby Jamie. 

“Hey, hey now. Let’s not think about something as crazy as that because this baby is a good thing.” 

“Yeah?” Jamie whispers, glancing back at Ted, not letting go of your hand. 

“Yes, it is,” the coach nods. “You’re going to go through one of the many joys life brings you.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Fatherhood… that, may or may not mix with a lot of uncles and two aunts who decide they want to spend time with the little booger.” 

“Would one of those many figures happen to include you, coach?” 

“No,” Ted shakes his head. 

“Not at all, Beard.” 

The door opens and heads turn. 

“Hi, I’m just here to-” The nurse takes note of the number of people in the room. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask anyone but the father and mother of the child to leave.” 

“Is it not believable that a woman could have this many boyfriends?” Jan asks. 

“Shut up.” A shoe aimed at his head, hits the wall and lands on the floor with a thud. 

The guys decide it’s time for them to leave, which lets you two see the few things the team has gotten, and it makes you tear up, freaking Jamie out. 

And he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but it was really nice of them team to do. 

“Should we open some presents?” Ted softly asks, placing one in your lap. 

“Didn’t the nurse just kick you out.” 

“I’m your dad.”

 “We’re your dads,” Beard adds. 

You glance over at Jamie. 

He shrugs, not completely hating the idea of having these two around. “I would’ve liked to know about my new parents beforehand. What’s next? Roy’s my uncle.” 

“No, he’s a granddad more than anything,” Jamie chimes in. 

You wipe your cheeks and smile at him before gently pulling the tissue paper out of your way. You pull out a onesie that looks normal, until you unfold it and inspect it. You sniffle as you hold it up for Jamie to see. 

He doesn’t realize why you’re crying until he reads what the back of it, “Tartt 9”. He doesn’t feel the tears trickling down his cheeks until you wipe his cheeks. 

“Jaim?” 

He shakes his head and pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head, over and over again. 

Ted smiles behind his phone. 

“We should probably give them some time alone.” 

“You think?” He asks. 

Beard nods. 

Ted sighs, “okie dokie.” 

They hold their hands up to wave, only to find your face squished against Jamie’s chest, barely able to wave them off. 

You and Jamie wind up opening every one of the other gifts, enjoying each other’s company after being apart for so long. 

“I think we should name it Jamie.” 

“Baby Tartt is not an it, it’s a baby,” you argue. 

“And we’re not naming them Jamie.” 

“Why not? It’s a good name.” 

“I’m not saying it’s a bad name but, we want our little pumpkin to be able to grow into their own, right?” 

“We-” He sighs, thinking about it, already knowing you were right. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” 

“Was that everything?” 

“I don’t know.” He glances over, finding a bag left on the floor, partially hidden so you couldn’t find it unless you were really looking. He grabs it and sets it in your lap. “What do you think it is?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug and move it closer for him to open (feeling you’ve done enough of the unveiling with presents). 

He pulls a figure out of the bag. “A bike?” Jamie brows furrows together in confusion until he thinks about it. The light bulb goes off in his head, everything clicking together, and he smiles. 

“Is there a card?” 

“I hope so.” 

Now you’re confused. 

He pulls out what looks like a plain index card. “Free one learn how to ride a bike pass.” He chuckles. 

“I’m lost.” 

“Remember how I told you I had something funny I wanted to tell you a couple months ago, but I couldn’t because the shithead was making me train, even though Ted gave us the night off.” He huffs and sits back in the chair. 

“Okay, I don’t need the background information, just give me the synopsis.” 

“Right,” he straightens his back. “I taught Roy how to ride a bike in memory of his granddad.” 

“You did?” 

“Yeah,” he nods with a smile. 

“And he let you?” 

“Not without trying to hurt me but I did it.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” 

“Yea- really?” 

“Of course, I’m proud of you. You taught the world’s grumpiest man how to ride a bike and lived to tell the tale.” 

“I guess you’re right.” 

“Of course, I’m right.” 

“I hope the baby doesn’t get your cockiness.”

“My cockiness? What about yours?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” 

“You lie.” 

He fake gasps and slaps his hand on his chest. “I take offense to that.” 

“I’m not sorry.” 

“You should be. We don’t want this one’s first word to be a lie.”

“It wouldn’t, don’t be mean,” you whine. 

“I’m not. I’m just being me.” 

“Yeah, and that’s mean.” 

He smiles and shakes his head. 

You start folding a few of the blankets the guys got, feeling the need to do something. “Hey, look. They got one with sharks.” 

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.” 

“Girls can like boy things too.” 

“Do you really want to be asked if we have a boy or a girl every day.” 

“Don’t be mean.” You smile, holding it close to your chest. “I like it. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo. Baby Tart, do do doo doo.” 

He groans, “please stop.” 

“Never.” 

You stiffle a yawn. 

“Come on,” he takes away the few things on your lap and blanket from your hands. “You need to rest.” 

“But I don’t want to.” 

He smiles at the whining tone in your voice. “I know but it’ll do the two of you well.” 

“Fine,” you tell him with a pout. “But sit by me. I… I’ve missed you.” 

“How can I say no to my girlfriend?” Jamie settles beside you and lets you lay against his chest. 

As you sleep and he’s bored, searching through the hospital’s shitty channels, he stumbles upon something interesting, an old childhood show he used to watch. 

You open your eyes to hear the song you briefly sang earlier. 

“Doo doo. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo.” 

“Jam-Jam?” 

“Hey,” he clears his throat. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better. What were you doing?” 

He shrugs. 

You smile and snuggle back into him. “I won’t tell anyone.”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Caffeine Crash

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: You go on a morning walk and you, quite literally, run into Jamie.

A/N: Part of my impromptu Jamie Tartt series, read Meet Cousin McAdoo

Isaac was still asleep when you woke up. You could hear his snores from down the hall where you stayed in his guest bedroom. For some reason, your body woke up early. It wasn't super early though, just nearing 8am. The weather was nice, so you figured you'd explore Richmond a little bit, maybe seek out a cafe for some coffee.

You got dressed in some jeans, a t-shirt, and a light jacket. You made sure you had your wallet, phone, and the spare key that Isaac lent you. Out the door you went to explore your home for the next few weeks.

_________________

Jamie was jogging ahead of Roy, per usual. It was almost eight thirty in the morning, which means his training session with Roy is ending for the day.

As Jamie's rounding a corner he crashes into someone, causing their cup of coffee to spill onto him and the person.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!" the person says and he realizes it's you, Isaac's cousin.

You seem to also realize who you ran into and you groan, "Fuck. I'm really sorry, Jamie. I guess that's what I get for trying to take a picture of my coffee," you snort, "acting like it's 2014 again or something." You give a chuckle and a shrug.

He shakes his head, "No, no. I shouldn't have rounded the corner so fast."

Roy, who finally caught up, stopped at Jamie's side, assessing the situation. He looks at Jamie then you, then Jamie again, saying "The fuck did you do to her?"

"It was an accident," you and Jamie reply in unison.

Roy gives his usual grunt and then Jamie says, "Let me get you a new drink."

"That's alrigh-"

"Please," he insists and you agree, "Okay. I'll buy you a scone then, as a thank you."

"I don't like scones."

"He doesn't like scones."

Both Roy and Jamie say at once.

You giggle, "Okay, a croissant then?"

Jamie looks at Roy, silently asking him for permission and the former footballer replies, "Fine."

The three of you proceed to head to the cafe that you were previously at and walk inside. The barista smiles politely at you, "Back so soon?"

You nod, "There was a collision and my drink was collateral," you explain.

"So same drink?"

"Yes, please," you answer. You step aside for Jamie to pay and then you're in front again, "He'll have a croissant," you nod to Jamie, "I'm paying for it." You look over your shoulder, "Coach Kent, do you-"

"No."

You chuckle, "Maybe a water for the coach here. Thanks." you proceed to pay and move towards the pick-up counter.

You sit at a table that has three open chairs, Roy and Jamie occupying the other seats. You lean back in your chair with a polite smile, "So, what brings you out this morning, boys?"

"Trainin'," Jamie says, gesturing to Roy, "Grandad here wakes me up every day at four for runs and drills."

You look at him wide-eyed, "Four in the morning?!" When they nod, you look at Roy, "Do you not value sleep? Maybe that's why you're so grumpy all the time."

Jamie laughs, "That's what I tell 'im!"

The older man glowers at you two, "Sacrifices need to be made in order to be the best."

Jamie shrugs and puts his attention back to you, "What about you? Why're you out and about alone?"

"Isaac's still asleep. I woke up a little earlier than usual. Figured I'd grab a coffee and explore Richmond a bit."

"I can give you a tour if you'd like," Jamie offers before he can even think about it.

"Oh! You don't have to. Besides, aren't you still training?"

"We've finished. Besides, I'm here and ready. Who knows how much longer Isaac will be sleeping for. I'm a great guide, by the way," he gestures to Roy, "Gave 'im a tour of Amsterdam while we were there for a game. Taught him how to ride a bike too."

You smirk at Roy, "You didn't know-"

"We don't talk about it," he cuts you off with a glare.

You chuckle, "Alright," and you turn back to Jamie, "I'd really like that if it's no trouble."

Jamie beams at you, "None at all."

The barista then calls out your order numbers and you stand, "I'll get them."

Jamie watches you walk the short distance away and Roy leans, "You better be fucking careful."

"I'm not doin' nothin'!"

"Isaac said to behave yourself around her."

"I'm just giving 'er a tour of the city! It's not like I'm proposin' or anything!" Roy leans back giving a skeptical groan.

You come back with two drinks and a pastry bag, "My drink, your croissant, and Roy, your water," you say as you hand out the items.

Jamie bites into the croissant and lets out a moan that's damn near sinful, "I missed carbs so much," he says after he swallows.

"You'll be doing extra laps during practice today," Roy sneers as he downs his water and then stands, "I'm going home."

You give him a wave and a smile, "See you around, Roy!" When he leaves you look to Jamie, "He seems fun."

He shrugs, "He's not always like that. He has some good moments." He stuffs the rest of the croissant into his mouth and you watch in amusement, sipping your coffee.

He wipes his face and hands, then stands, "Alright, nothin' like the present, right? Let's get your tour started."

"Right!" you follow him out the door, ready for this adventure with your new...friend?

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 7)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

5.2k words

Warnings: Language, Roy being kind of a dom, unprotected sex, kind of cum play, fingering, some overstimulation, lots affection and fluff

@agentstarkid more brain rot and alllllll the fluff!

A/N: Going to be taking a week off from this story to do some planning! Excited for the next few chapters! 😘

Series Masterlist

After roughly wiping down your thighs, mumbling something about them getting ruined again anyways, Roy’s dark eyes trailed up your sweat-covered body as he bent down to pick your panties off the floor. Keeping your gaze, he stuffed the drenched lace into his pocket and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“You got your room key?” he asked huskily. Your muted nod had him smirking at you. “Then let’s go.”

He quickly tugged down your dress to cover your bare cunt, briefly letting his fingers ghost over your entrance, chuckling at your soft gasp. Keeping his arm around you, Roy swiftly moved the chair back where it belonged and guided you through the door.

Before you stepped fully into the hallway, you looked up at him, eyes wide and wild. “Could I borrow your jacket?” you hissed.

“Why?”

“M’back’s probably full of fucking hickeys,” you reminded him pointedly.

Roy’s normally soft brown eyes were nearly black. “What, you don’t want anyone seeing my teeth marks on you?” His grip dug into your hip harshly as his mouth found your ear. “Oh no, Empress. I want everyone to see what you’ve been up to.” His eyes trailed down your figure for a moment. “Although, you may want to walk quickly. Unless you want something to start leaking out of you- then everyone will know all the things you let me do to you.”

Shit. Should you really be this turned on by how… mean Roy was being? By the devilish way he looked at you? By the deep, gruff growl he spoke with? By the way his hand was very publicly just above your ass, as if you were his possession?

Whether or not you should be turned on… well, you definitely fucking were.

When you gave a little wobble in your heels, Roy tightened his grip with a dark laugh. “Look at you,” he tutted, his own stride strong, confident, steady. “Like fucking Bambi over here, can’t even fucking walk, poor thing. Better get you in bed.” But the hungry look on his face told him you wouldn’t be resting once you got there.

As you focused on trying to remember how to walk on your wobbly legs, Roy scanned the lobby. With the early morning hour and the party still raging behind you, it was fairly empty, most people paying no mind to the football legend and F1 star, both flushed and disheveled, making their way to the lifts that led up to the lavish bedrooms.

Really, only one person noticed.

Isaac McAdoo’s eyes widened when he saw the two of you. Yeah, the guys had teased Roy about his obvious little crush on you. And Jamie clearly thought it went beyond just the crush and was fully convinced that there was a romance starting. But, shit, he didn’t expect to actually see Roy with his arm around you, making a beeline for the elevators.

Roy froze for a fraction of a second when he noticed his captain, a stop so brief you didn’t even notice. He gave Isaac a steely nod across the lobby, assuring his player that yes, his eyes were working correctly- and that he’d better keep his mouth shut.

With raised eyebrows, Isaac nodded back. Shit, good for Roy, he thought. The man deserved some fun. And Isaac sure as hell wasn’t about to rat him out.

Refocusing on his mission, Roy steered you to the lift, practically punching the button and chewing on his bottom lip as the elevator made its way down. Once the doors opened, Roy quickly tugged you inside. You immediately pressed your floor number and turned to Roy, whose mouth was on your neck the moment the doors closed again.        

“Remember what you said that night we met?” he hummed against your skin. “Your mother being horrified about you having a man in your room?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, hands exploring Roy’s back, your tight grip keeping you upright.

He left you a new bite mark. “What I’m about to do to you would probably fucking kill both our mums,” he teased, pulling back when he heard the ding of the elevator. “Lead the way.”

With Roy’s hand now grabbing your ass, you walked as fast as your weak legs could carry you, both excited and apprehensive about what Roy had planned for you. Whatever it was, you knew it would leave you even weaker in the knees. And it would probably be something you’d think about while alone in bed.

Your fingers fumbled with your cardkey a little at the door, prompting Roy to grab the card out of your hand and press it to the reader himself.

“You poor thing,” he cooed as he opened the door. “Am I making you nervous, darling?”

As you stepped into your room, you found your boldness again. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you trying to make me nervous, Kent?” you teased, tugging him by the belt loop to follow you inside.

His thick eyebrows flew up. “Are we being rude again, Empress?” He locked the deadbolt on your door pointedly. “Do we need a reminder about our fucking manners?”

Yeah, your dress was probably ruined at this point; you were soaking wet for him. “I think we do,” you hummed, your voice thick and mischievous.

“In that case…” He pushed you towards the bed, his hands flying to his trousers. “You better take that dress off. And I want to see you ready on all fours.”

How did he manage to make his voice sound deeper than usual? “Yes, Coach,” you purred, turning your back to him. Knowing that he had those dark eyes trained on you, you slowly unzipped your dress and let it fall into a puddle on the floor, quickly unhooking your bra and adding it to the pile. After stepping out of your heels- and finding that you were still having trouble standing even without them- you quickly got on the bed, lifting your ass to give Roy the view he wanted.

“Fucking hell,” he rasped, the sound of his approaching footsteps enough to have you clenching around nothing. “That for me?” His hands were warm on your ass as he gripped tightly, kneading the flesh roughly. “Or is this for some pretty boy?”

You arched your back, melting under his touch. “For you,” you breathed, closing your eyes. “All for you, Roy Kent.”

He shivered at the sound of his name dripping from your lips like honey, the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

The mattress dipped as he joined you on the bed, settling behind you. One hand slithered up your back, gently tracing one of the purple marks he’d given you. “Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured. “All mine.” You whimpered when you felt his tip brush your sensitive entrance. “Tell me,” he ordered softly. “Tell me how much you want this cock.”

You squirmed towards him, desperate to feel him inside you again. “Need you,” you gapsed. “Need you so fucking bad, Roy.” You turned your head to look over your shoulder at him. “Only you.”

His soft grunt was heavenly as he sank into you, watching the way you rocked back to meet him. The long, low moan that poured out of your mouth had him twitching inside you and reaching up to grab a fistful of your hair. His gentle tug had a smile curling on your lips; fuck, you liked this side of Roy, all mean and possessive and needy. It had you feeling wanted in a way you’d never experienced, in a way you didn’t want to let go of.

As if he could read your mind, Roy pulled out and rammed back into you roughly, jolting your entire body. “Don’t want you to be able to walk tomorrow,” he growled, giving a harsher tug to your hair. “Want you to spend the whole day in bed, thinking about me.” He slammed into you over and over, a rough, desperate rhythm that had your legs already shaking. “You looked so fucking good tonight,” he grunted. “Who’d you look so fucking pretty for? Hmm? Another driver? That pretty prick? Someone else?”

“For you,” you panted, fingers gripping the sheets. “Just for you.”

Roy’s chuckle was empty and dark. “That why you were hiding from me? And hanging all over him?” As if to show you his hurt and frustration, he gave a particularly rough thrust that had your face buried into a plump pillow.

You tilted your head to the side and blew some stray hair out of your face. “Dunno,” you huffed. Another moan escaped your lips as he pounded your aching cunt over and over, making it hard to think clearly, let alone actually answer Roy’s question. “’m sorry.”

His movements paused, leaving you whining as your pussy clenched around him. “Prove it,” he taunted. “Prove you’re fucking sorry.” The confused whimper you gave had him smirking at you. “Fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl.”

It was kind of pathetic how quickly you did as he demanded. But sure enough, you braced yourself against the mattress and rutted back into him, choking back a sob as you felt his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

“Again,” came his gruff command.

Arms shaking, you repeated the movement. And again. And again. Your body was exhausted as you thrust against him, feeling his hips slam against your bare ass. He let go of your hair and settled both hands on your hips with a bruising grip, gritting his teeth.

“Make yourself come,” he hissed, his fingers digging into your skin. “Be a good girl and make that gorgeous cunt come for me.” His smirk returned.

Desperate to please him and feel those familiar waves of pleasure, you quickened your pace, panting and whimpering as you sloppily fucked Roy, not caring about looking pretty for him; not that he minded. With the beads of sweat that trailed down your neck and the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you chased your high, you were sinfully beautiful to Roy.

Fuck, a man could fall in love with this view.

“Roy,” you sobbed, feeling like you were going to fall apart. “’m gonna- ‘m gonna-”

“Come for me, baby.”

He took over for you, driving his cock deep inside you, his chest warming with pride as he felt you tighten around his cock. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing and clenching, as if nothing else could ever satisfy you; and fuck, maybe that was true. Your cunt was overwhelmed from the third orgasm Roy took from you, spasming with pleasure as your limbs lost all feeling. As your vision went white, your arms gave out beneath you; only Roy’s firm grip kept you from completely collapsing onto the mattress. He watched carefully as your body went limp under his touch. Satisfied that you were coming down from your high, he tenderly pulled out of you, still hard and throbbing.

The side of your face was still pressed to the pillow as you gazed at his cock, practically drooling at the sight. “Roy?” you croaked out, eager for him to follow you into post-orgasm bliss.

With a wicked glint in his eye, he gently turned you onto your back, tutting sympathetically at your wince. “Remember what I said on the phone?” he hummed, leaning down to grope your breast with one hand as he stroked his rigid length with the other. “Wanna see you all covered up.”

Your body went scorching hot as you wriggled with anticipation; this was definitely an image you’d conjured up more than a few times since Roy had mentioned the idea. And after tonight, seeing how painfully jealous he’d gotten, your bruised cunt continued to throb at the idea of Roy making you his in such a dirty way.

He licked his lips as he watched your squirming figure, already filled with his release, three orgasms leaving you a disheveled, glistening mess. There you were, the Empress. The woman who’d long occupied many of his fantasies and had been filling most of his thoughts since Silverstone. Earlier tonight, you had another man’s hands on you, and before that, you were standing on a podium, covered in champagne, adoring fans screaming your name. And now there you were, gazing up at him with tired, lust-filled eyes, practically begging him to cover you with his release.

How could the most miserable man in the world get so fucking lucky?

“Want me to come for you?” he grunted, feeling so dirty as he stroked himself, his whole body trembling. “All over those pretty, pretty tits?”

Your desperate nod had him twitching in his hand. “All over me,” you purred, back arching. “Because I’m yours.”

Fuck.

Roy felt like his whole body was filled with electricity as he pumped his cock, shooting his release onto your breasts, his mouth open wide in awe as he watched his stickiness mix with your sweat. His eyes widened as he watched you, completely fucked out and in something of a daze, lift your head and stick out your tongue- a pathetic attempt to lick up the mess he’d made on you.

Jaw slacking, he bent over you and used two fingers to scoop up some of his cum, not bothering to hold back his groan when you greedily devoured what he offered you, swirling his fingertips with your tongue as you licked his digits clean.

“You…” He shook his head, cupping your cheek with his clean hand. “You are so fucking perfect,” he chuckled, all darkness gone from those soft brown eyes. He gazed down your spent body, gulping when he realized the absolute mess he’d made of you. “Let me…” He cleared his throat. “Fuck, let me clean you up, gorgeous.” He pressed a tiny kiss to your forehead and climbed off the bed, pausing only to grab his discarded boxers off the floor as he walked to the bathroom.

With a soft sigh, you gazed up at the ceiling, thinking about how jealous Roy had gotten, how possessive he was. How hurt he’d looked when you found him in the hallway. A man doesn’t get that way over just some hookup, you thought.

He returned with a damp washcloth, sitting down on the bed without a word. Tenderly, gently, he wiped down your body, cleaning your chest and between your legs. When he finished, he leaned down and kissed your lips softly.

“Bathroom?”

When you nodded, he swiftly lifted you, wincing a little when his knee cracked, and carried you to the restroom.

“Roy,” you giggled, “you don’t have to-”

He kissed your mouth again, a little deeper now. “Hush. Fucking let me take care of you.”

After you finished in the restroom, Roy picked you up again, laying you gently on the bed. The smile he offered you was the absolute softest, most adoring smile you’d ever seen in your life.

“As much as I love this body of yours, let’s get some fucking clothes on you, yeah?”

Suddenly, you had energy again, scrambling to sit up. “Oh, let me grab-”

A firm hand pushed you back down. “I said let me take care of you.” With a teasing smirk, Roy stood up and crossed over to the dresser. “Your stuff in here? Or have you been living out of your fucking suitcase all weekend?”

Feeling bashful for the first time all night, you bit your lip. “Second drawer,” you huffed.

Shooting you a quizzical look at the sight of your sudden timidness, Roy opened the drawer and pulled out a fresh pair of underwear. He cocked his head as something familiar caught his attention. “Oi, is this…” He turned around with raised eyebrows, holding up a black t-shirt. “Is this mine?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, averting your gaze and suddenly feeling… exposed.

Roy felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest as he returned to bed. “And why do you have my shirt?” he hummed as he slipped your panties over your ankles. “Why’d you bring that thing all the way to fucking Belgium?” His eyes sparkled mischievously as he tugged up your underwear, following the material with a sprinkling of light kisses up your legs.

You weren’t sure if your squirming was from embarrassment or the kisses on your sensitive skin. “Just… dunno.” You gave a little huff. “Smells like you,” you murmured.

“Smells like me,” Roy repeated. He pressed the tiniest of kisses to your pussy before pulling your panties over it. “You like the way I smell, then?”

Despite your embarrassment, you smiled at him. “Maybe,” you hummed. You sat up, reaching for said t-shirt.

He paused, thoughtfulness crossing his bearded face. “Lemme see your back.” He winced when you leaned forward, showing off the smattering of purple marks and bites he’d left. “Shit.” Popping his lips, he stood up and went to the bathroom, emerging with another washcloth. “Right, turn over then.”

With a small squeak, you flipped onto your belly, realizing how fucking sore you were. Roy gently pressed the washcloth to your back, his face heated with embarrassment as he took in the evidence of his behavior. Not exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d agreed to come to Belgium.

“’m sorry,” he finally breathed as he continued to nurse your back. “I… your back…” He cleared his throat. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you chuckled. “Honestly, it’s fine.”

He sighed and laid a small kiss on a particularly dark hickey. “If there… if you… if you didn’t like that, I will never act like that again.” His voice was rushed, thick with awkwardness. “Don’t fucking know what came over me.”

You tilted your head to look at his furiously blushing face. “Roy,” you said firmly, the corners of your mouth lifting. “I actually enjoyed myself. Hopefully the three orgasms I had are evidence enough of that, hmm? As for what came over you…” You turned back over and sat up, taking one of Roy’s hands in yours. “I think you were suffering from green eyes, hmm?”

Roy grunted as he tossed the washcloth onto the nightstand. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, an embarrassed grin crossing his face as he picked up the black t-shirt. “Arms.” You lifted your arms, allowing Roy to tug the shirt over your head, covering your body comfortably. “Under the covers, you.”

Rolling your eyes at his avoidant behavior, you scrambled under the blankets, thrilled to see him join you; without any prompting, Roy Kent was spending the night. He wrapped an arm around you carefully, tugging you close.

“Roy?”

“Yeah?”

You shifted so you were facing him, hooking one still-weak leg over his hip. “You don’t need to be jealous, you know that?” You pressed a kiss to his furry chest, right over his heart. “You never need to be jealous. Not… not when it comes to me.”

He paused for a moment, not quite looking at you. “I just… didn’t like seeing his hands on you,” he whispered, stroking your waist. “Especially after you didn’t invite me to come here.”

“That’s fair,” you agreed. “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you want me here?” His voice was full of that same hurt you’d seen in the hallway.

You pressed your body close to his, tilting your head so you were finally looking each other in the eye. “I…” You took a deep breath. “Things are just… different. This isn’t… this isn’t just sex for me anymore, Roy.”

It felt like the longest ten seconds in the world before Roy opened his mouth again. “I… don’t think it’s ever been just sex for me.”

For once, you didn’t bother hiding your smile from him. Instead, you pressed your lips to his, probably the softest you’d kissed him since you’d met. His hand snaked up your back, gripping you softly, careful not to press those purple marks he’d left you. When he finally broke the kiss, Roy was smiling so broadly you thought his face would break.

“You better get some rest,” he breathed, pecking your nose. “Some horrible bastard was pretty mean to you tonight.”

With a smirk, you settled in his arms, tiredness overcoming your exhausted body. “Yeah. But he’s pretty hot, so I’d let him do it again.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growled playfully, snuggling close as you finally closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

~

Roy’s sleepy smile was the first thing you saw when you woke up. He was sitting up already, one arm wrapped around you as you rested on his stomach.

“Morning,” came his gruff, gentle voice as his free hand stroked your cheek. “Sleep well?”

You nodded, stretching. “Always sleep well after… you know.” A small groan escaped your swollen lips as you realized how heavy your entire body was, how it felt like it could melt through the mattress and onto the floor. With an involuntary grimace, you genuinely wondered how the fuck you were supposed to walk.

Of course, Roy noticed. “Alright there?”

“Tired,” you mumbled, bringing up one of your heavy arms to wrap around his middle. “Had a bit of a rough night,” you teased.

A kiss landed on the top of your head. “Which you took very well,” Roy murmured, in that thick, syrupy voice he’d mocked you with last night. Already, it had your sore pussy throbbing with excitement. As if he could tell, his hand slid down your back until it rested firmly on your ass. “You were such a good girl.”

The sound of your breath hitching and the sight of your furious blush spurred him on. Without warning, Roy pulled you up until you were sitting between his thick thighs, your back pressed against his bare chest. Instinctively, you leaned into him, craning your neck to grant him access, which he thanked you for with a sloppy kiss to your collarbone.

“Want me to take care of you?” he breathed as he used one hand to pry your sore thighs open. “Want me to make you feel good?” The whimper that spilled from your lips was all he needed to encourage him to tug your panties to the side and let two fingers explore your already wet cunt. “Oh, darling,” he cooed. “She’s still soaked.”

“Roy,” you gasped as his fingers began to spread your lips, smearing your wetness over yourself. “Don’t think I can-”

His tongue traced a heart on your neck. “Shh, I know baby,” he whispered. “Just let me make you feel good, yeah?” He kissed your temple as his middle finger inched into you. “Let me spoil you.”

For the second time in less than twelve hours, Roy Kent buried his finger inside your wetness, groaning softly as you tightened around him. Your hands gripped his thighs, needing something to anchor you to reality as you melted into pleasure. Your thighs trembled as he slowly pumped into your aching cunt, shaky breaths and soft moans letting Roy know he was doing his job.

His strokes were slow and deliberate, just like the deep kisses he pressed to your neck. He cherished every detail about you: your beautiful little whimpers, the way you pressed yourself against him, the squelching sound from under the covers. After a particularly desperate moan, Roy added a second finger, smirking at the way your body trembled against his. Fuck, he could do this all day. All week. Hell, for the rest of his life.

“You did so well last night,” he hummed, dragging his fingers against your fluttering walls. “So fucking good for me, you know that, beautiful?” An open-mouthed kiss found your neck. “You were perfect, my perfect girl.”

Your eyes fluttered as you squirmed against him. “Roy,” was all you could manage, your strangled voice letting him know you were approaching your climax.

“And all mine,” he continued as his thumb rubbed your clit gently; he chucked when your entire body jerked. “You like being all mine, gorgeous?”

“Yours,” you answered, more a whine than a moan as you began to roll your hips into his hand.

His free arm wrapped around your middle, stilling you. “Uh-uh, Empress.” He kissed your cheek, his beard tickling your skin. “Allow me.”

With that, he thrust his fingers deeper into you, not stopping until his digits completely disappeared into your cunt. He repeated the move, over and over, fucking you gently as the pad of his thumb continued pressing into your clit. When he felt you desperately clench around his fingers, he finally quickened his pace, giving you exactly what your body wanted.

“Think you could come for me one more time, baby?” His voice was practically begging as his grip around your tummy tensed. “Think you’ve got one more for me?”

Your eyes rolled back, and you were pretty sure there was a little drool in the corner of your mouth. It felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces as Roy expertly dragged over your clit and slid his tongue over your skin. With one perfect little bit of pressure to your bundle of nerves, Roy had you falling apart in his arms, a beautiful, whimpering little mess on his lap. When you tilted your face to his, he captured your mouth in a kiss, swallowing your pretty noises as he pumped in and out of your aching cunt.

When your moans turned to soft gasps, Roy eased his fingers out of you, laughing lovingly at your disappointed whine. As his hand emerged from under the covers, you slumped against his body and expectantly opened your mouth.

“Oh no,” Roy chuckled. “This is all mine, baby.” With that, he brought his fingers to his mouth, a deep moan vibrating against you as he sucked his digits clean. “Fuck, you are the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.” He kissed your mouth harshly, a kiss full of joy and affection. “Think I could taste you forever.”

He let you lay on top of him, listening as your breaths became steady again. You weren’t sure how much time passed, but eventually the two of you found yourselves laying down, your head on Roy’s chest, his hand in your hair. It was peaceful, just as natural as any rough, semi-public fling you’d shared. As you listened to his heartbeat, you found yourself speaking without thinking.

“I’ve got a month off,” you hummed. “Think I could meet you at a few away games?”

He wondered if you could hear his heart skip a beat. “Come to as many matches as you want. Home, away, all of ’em. Hell, come stay in Richmond the whole fucking month. I’d fucking love that.”

“Yeah?” You brought yourself up, laying your chin on his chest. “Don’t think you’d get sick of me, Kent?”

“Could never get sick of you,” he assured you, poking your nose affectionately. “Honestly. If you’re interested, you should come hang out in Richmond. We’d have fun, I think.” His eyes searched yours. “If you want.”

Your bright smile had his chest tightening with joy. “Yeah. We’d have fun.” You pressed a kiss to his chest. “Guess I’m spending my break in Richmond.” You reached for the nightstand. “Hand me my phone? Gonna go ahead and book my hotel.”

Roy squirmed beneath you, a complete change from the confidence he’d shown earlier in the morning. “Actually… what would you say to staying with me?”

“Staying with you,” you echoed, wondering if he could feel the heat that covered your body. You thought a moment; that little voice of doubt that seemed to always come around when Roy was on your mind screamed at you to stop, to ask him to leave, to end it here and now before things went too far and you found yourself shattered again.

But another voice was begging you to let this man, with his brown eyes and growling voice, adore you the way he wanted to.

“I mean,” Roy continued, glancing away. “We’re probably going to end up in bed together every other night, anyway. Saves us the back and forth. And I’ve got a guest room if you get sick of my fuckign snoring.”

His sudden shyness had you making your decision.

“I’d love to.” You reached up and traced his lips with your finger. “Although, ending up in bed together every other night? You’re underestimating us, Kent.”

The joyful laugh that flew out of his mouth was interrupted by the sound of his phone vibrating next to yours on the nightstand. “Hold that thought.” He picked it up and glanced at it, immediately throwing his head back with a groan. “Fucking hell,” he sighed. “Gotta get ready to meet the guys.” He studied your face for a moment. “Don’t suppose you’d want to come with us? You’ve already got a suitcase.”

That earnest look on his face had you feeling like an entire zoo was living in your stomach.

“As much as I’d love to travel with you and Jamie and Sam and Isaac,” you teased, “I’d like more than just a few days’ worth of clothes. And besides-” You pulled your face to Roy’s, tapping his nose with yours. “-I’ve got a drawer full of lingerie back in Monaco. Don’t you think I’ll need some of those things in Richmond?”

His eyes widened for a fraction of a moment. “Yeah, you should definitely go home and pack whatever you need,” he agreed in a half-joking voice. “I’m a patient man, I’ll see you in Richmond.”

You kissed his lips happily. “See you in Richmond.”

~

It took some effort on both of your parts to finally say goodbye, promising to see each other soon. Roy felt like he was walking on air as he eventually made his way down to the lobby with his duffel bag. What a difference one night could make; he’d woken up Sunday morning feeling more miserable than usual, and this morning he was fighting a grin every time he pictured your pretty face.

It didn’t take a genius to notice, so he shouldn’t have been surprised by Jamie Tartt’s smug expression.

“Where’d you end up last night, Roy?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. “You never came back to the party.”

He shrugged, doing his best to keep a straight face. “Fucking went to bed.”

Jamie winked at him. “And whose bed would that be?”

Sam clapped his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Oh, leave him alone.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Roy’s not the kind of guy to kiss and tell.”

Before Roy could tell his players to fuck off, Isaac approached, sunglasses on his nose and backpack on his shoulder. As Jamie and Sam turned to begin walking out of the hotel, Isaac looked at Roy over the top of his sunglasses, eyebrows raised slightly. Roy offered him a smirk and shrug, bobbing his head. With the smallest of grins, Isaac held up his fist, which Roy tapped with his own, cementing an unspoken understanding between the two men.

As Roy stepped out of the hotel, listening to his players chatter about how much fun they had, his phone vibrated. He swiftly pulled it out, shoulders softening when he read the four little words on his screen:

See you in Richmond ❤️

Taglist:@hotdoglamp@daydreamgoddess14@klaine-92@gibby31@anonurs@taytaylala12@unholyhuntress@thatonedogwithablog@seacactusplant@e-mmygrey@jane-dough @zara-aliza08 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers@deliriousfangirl61@katdahlali @deliriousfangirl61 @seatbacksandtraytables

@andaende @an-anxiousace-from-outerspace

[izzyspussy]

Rating Ted Lasso Characters Based On If They'd Respect My Pronouns (Correctly)

Roy "We Stayed At GAY Til 3AM And Then We Had Crepes With Some Drag Queens" Kent: 11/10 no fucking shit. He would defend me from misgendering also, even if we weren't friends. He's the very embodiment of that guy who fought the trans guy and then fought the authority figure who scolded him for hitting a girl.

Nate "Genius (Code for Autistic)" Shelley: 11/10 are you kidding. If only quarantine had happened in his universe he'd have pronouns too. Also his girlfriend obviously already does.

Jamie "Prettyboy" Tartt: 11/10 duh. No, he doesn't know off the top of his head what part of speech a pronoun is, but only because nothing in the universe could matter less. And much like Roy, if he saw someone else being contrarian for the purposes of being a prick for absolutely no earthly reason, he would be eager to do something about it.

Keeley "Just The Tip" Jones: 11/10 did you see her. Never have I personally received more solidarity than from (butches and) full tilt Barbie Girl femmes like Keeley. She may be cis and she wears "women's" clothes, but she's still doing drag every day. She gets it.

Colin "Right by This Pink Triangle?" Hughes: 11/10 obviously. He would be so good at not making a big deal out of doing it correctly himself or correcting others, because he knows what it's like to just want to live your authentic life without being a spectacle.

Coach "You Should See Him In Drag" Beard: 11/10 which you should've guessed. Look at him. Look at him with your heart. You know he has pronouns you've never even heard of that he takes out for special occasions.

Ted "We Don't Not Care" Lasso: 11/10 why is this even a question. Practically the entirety of Ted's goals in life are to be respectful and kind and help others do the same. Sometimes that's hard and he fucks it up, but this is easy. C'mon.

Sam "Social Justice Warrior" Obisanya: 11/10 like. Obviously. I have nothing else to say, like. Obviously. Obviously.

Bumber-"Impending Class War"-catch: 11/10. If anything, given the opportunity, he would encourage me to have more pronouns.

Dani "Joy" Rojas: 11/10. These are getting very simple now, and require less and less explanation. He promotes joy. What else do you want.

Rebecca "Ask Your Daughter What It Means" Welton: 11/10. She's a cutthroat and a genuine feminist. She doesn't care if a bunch of freaks are scared of strangers' genitals, and she's certainly not going to let something so petty get in her own way.

Jan "I've Run Out of Fun Epithets For Everyone And He Wouldn't Mind This Unfun One That's Blunt About That Fact" Maas: 11/10 of course. There's no logical, moral, or social reason not to, and there is a wealth of evidence supporting gender affirming behavior.

Isaac McAdoo: 11/10. And he would (unnecessarily) instruct all the other lads to do it too. He might struggle with it at first if we had known each other previous to my transition, but not out of malice or negligence, and once he got on track he'd stay there for life.

Leslie Higgins: 11/10. He's a jazz musician with ten thousand gen Z children. He knows at least as many trans people already as any natural member of the queer community.

The Rest of The Lads: 11/10. We all know this to be true. Next.

Georgie Tartt: 11/10. Have you seen her son. She's prepared for this.

Sharon Fieldstone: 11/10. Have you seen her do her job. She's good at it.

Dottie Lasso: 9/10. Her heart's in the right place and that matters! She is inescapably Midwestern in both the good ways and the bad ways, though.

Jake: 8/10. Have you seen him do his job. He's bad at it.

Rupert Mannion: 6/10. He's a trans inclusive misogynist lmao. He also will treat correct pronoun usage as a privilege if he gets butthurt enough.

James Tartt: 3/10. He'd respect a trans man who performed masculinity to his standards, but he is definitely afraid of girlymen and women who are better than him (most women).

[iguana-eyanna]

Shadow of Himself

Pairing: Isaac Mcadoo x Reader

Summary: Isaac's teammates try to guess who is mystery girlfriend is.

"Bruv, it's gotta be a Victoria Secret model" Jamie Tartt says.

"Nah, mate. She's an American singer, he's been obsessed watching the Voice for months." Colin Hughes says.

"American? Not international?" Richard Montlaur suggests, creating a louder argument with the team

"Okay y'all, what's going on? Y'all playing Guess Who: Celebrity edition?"

The boys turn around to Coach Lasso, Beard, and Kent as they stood by the entrance of their office.

"Coach, do you know Isaac's new lady lover?" Dani Rojas asks.

"I don't seem to know why I need to know." Lasso said, placing his hands in his pockets.

"I'm hosting an end of a season dinner at my restaurant for the whole team. Isaac asked me if he could bring a plus one." Sam said, feeling guilty he accidentally slipped it up to the whole team.

"And that concerns you how?" Beard asks.

"It's just news to us, no one knew about the girl. Not even Colin!" Bumbercatch pointed out to a solemn.

"You think you know a man." Colin says to himself, lowering his eyesight.

"Don't you think calling Issac's partner 'girl' a bit degrading?" Roy said, creating an unsettling silence in the locker room.

"Coach is right. I think we should be a tree and 'leaf' the situation. If Isaac is ready to tell us about who's dating and what not, we'll be here to support him."

"Ready for what?" Isaac said as he walks in with his bag.

The team try to stammer a lie, making Roy mutter a small 'fuck this' under his breath as he went inside the coaches' office.

"Uh, the dinner at Ola's. I've added a new dish to the menu!" Sam saved the conversation, hoping to not have a chair be thrown at his direction.

"Nice." Isaac said, walking over to his bench as he gets ready to go home.

Everyone of his team makes subtle eye contact with each other, wondering who would bring up the sensitive.

"Isaac, when are you going to bring your secret lover?" Jan Maas asks, ripping the bandaid as he always does. The whole team groans, throwing their used towels and dirty laundry at the Dutch player.

"Can't keep a secret from you all." Isaac muttered, snickering at the thought in a second.

"So you are seeing someone?" Jamie asks in a genuine tone.

"For everyone's information, yes. I am seeing someone. And no: she is not a model, singer, or a Romanian Spy." Isaac says, staring directly Thierry Zoreaux on the last part, who raises his hands in defense.

"You will meet her at the party, but till then, no one digs into my relationship. Got that?" Isaac demands. The whole team nods in agreement and go along their day, afraid to be stared down or beat up their captain.

Soon, Isaac drives home with a content smile on his face after he picked up some Thai food for dinner. He then gets outta of his car and unlock his door, seeing a pair of shoes that are 5 times smaller than his.

"Love, you here?" Isaac asks, as he takes off his shoes. He then lifts his head to see you standing there with a jean flared-skirt, beige blouse that silhouetted your figure just right, and your hair styled in an updo.

"Please tell me you got my pumpkin curry? They were out last time." You pleaded.

"You're in luck. They had it tonight." He said, raising the plastic bag for you to see.

"Gahh you're the best. Before heading back here, I grabbed you these for dessert." You raise your arm to show him his favorite candy, Rolos chocolate.

"That's why you're amazing" He said, giving you a kiss as he dips you down with his strong arms. Soon, you two set up dinner and talked about your day.

"Really, a Romanian Spy?" You ask, as Isaac told you what his friends were guessing your profession.

"Well you would look great in a spy costume."

"You wish you would." You remarked as Isaac slapped your but lightly, making you yelp and blush. You return the favor as he yelped louder and turning back to you with a mischievous look in his eye.

"You don't think me being a school librarian would make them think I'm boring?" You ask, looking up at him as you two sat down.

"You kidding? I think it's great you help out kids. And if they don't, i'll rough them up."

"I don't think your coaches will like it if you sent them to the hospital." You remark.

"Let them, cause no one will ever say a bad thing about you on my watch." Isaac said, taking your hand and kissing it.

You smile, feeling very confident in your relationship with him. You were a bit skeptical of course, as he was flaunting his money to impress you when you two were first dating. The both of you had a serious talk that splurging should be kept to a minimal (especially when you can't even afford to get his favorite cologne with 3 paychecks alone.)

As for the secrecy of your relationship, you two just wanted to spend your time privately with each other. He didn't like the idea of the press looking at his relationship under a microscope. But now that his team knows he's seeing someone, he realizes his privacy might not last for long.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Oh no, that sentence never ended in a good situation." You remark, placing your glass down. You two scoot closer to each other by the table, and Isaac takes his hands in yours.

"I wanna introduce you to the team. Sam is having a private dinner party for the end of the season. No press or cameras, it will be just me introducing my amazing girlfriend to my friends."

"I'm your girlfriend now?" You quip an eyebrow, smirking.

"If you like to be... I mean what do you call four months of dating-"

You cut him off with a kiss as he holds you tenderly, melting underneath your sweet lips.

"I'd love to come."

Isaac smiles brightly as he kisses you again.

+

As the season ended, Isaac drove you over to Ola's and parked a few feet away. He looks over nervously by the window as he bounced his knee.

"Hey, are you alright? If not, we can leave." You said, placing your hand by his thigh.

He doesn't respond as his eyes dart to his designer shoes.

"Are you afraid your friends are going to say something?" You ask, knowing that his friends have a mouth like no body's business.

"No it's not like that, it's just... I used to be this big shot man who was undefinable. And when I'm with my mates, I become this dick that I don't recognize. I'm just afraid you won't like me if you see the worse parts of me, since it's pretty hard to imagine a life without you innit."

Your eyes soften as he finishes. All this time, you thought that you didn't matter enough to his adventoruos life when it was him that was having these insecurities.

"Isaac. I understand what I was getting into when I found out you were a pro-footballer. You come with a package, and yeah, every man has a very shitty phase but you pointing it out matters. Don't beat yourself up because you used to be a rich twat-"

He shoots you a glare, but he turns it into a snicker.

"I love you, and I hope that the both of us can grow into better people." You intertwine your hands with his.

Isaac looks at you with those dark brown eyes that you adore so much. He's been beating himself up for thinking he wasn't good enough for you. But it was because of you that he wanted to be a better man.

He takes your hand and kisses it.

"Lemme introduce my amazing girlfriend to my team."

Eagerly getting outta of the side of his car, Issac opens your side as he walks with you hand in hand to Ola's. He takes a deep breath before looking at you then walking inside where he's greeted by his new family, now forgetting why he was ever scared. He'll never be a shadow of himself, now that he has you as his light.

+

"So are we sure she's not a Romanian spy?"

"ZOREAUX!!!"

[makethatelevenrings]

Somewhere Only We Know - TWO

Chapter Warnings: spoilers for 2x02, swearing but that’s part of the show idk why you would be surprised by that

shoutout to @yanna-banana​ for showing me this Instagram dupe site so I can make this a bit more ~interactive~ since reader is, y’know, a social media manager. also thanks for ur patience my lovelies, i’m having “ahhhh im graduating” depressive states and all my energy is going towards finals and existing rn.

Series Masterlist

“Okay. Laptop. Charger. Keys. Coffee. Shoes. Shoes!”

For some reason, you were a mess this morning. You had been repeating your list of things you needed over and over again and yet every time you kept discovering something else you had forgotten. Your bag lay half-packed on the couch as you ran around like a chicken with its head cut off in pursuit of your shoes. Seriously, how the fuck did you lose the shoes you had grabbed from your closet just a minute ago?

That’s because they were in your hands.

Sighing, you pulled on the sensible flats and took another moment to look around your room and list out all the things you needed for work today. The TV played in a lone drone behind you and you turned your head to see This Morning playing. Philip and Holly were interviewing some guy from that one reality show.

“What about Amy? Are you going to wait for her?” Holly asked.

“Nah, no. I was just playing a game, know what I mean?” the guy replied. Christ, was that Jamie Tartt? It was, wasn’t it. “Find the fittest girl there, have sex with her in the toilet, ask her to marry you. Strategy.”

“Wow,” you drawled before you shut off the TV. “He’s a piece of shit.”

You headed for the door and quickly backtracked. You almost forgot your entire bag and the leftovers from the shoot you had last night. Ugh, you needed more coffee.

~~~

You were scrolling through TikTok in search of a new trend to use for a Richmond video when all five foot two inches of your boss came bursting into your office.

“Oh, sorry! I should have knocked. Get your bag, babes, we’re going to lunch,” she exclaimed. “There’s this cafe that’s a ten minute walk from here and they’ve got the best coffee.”

You knew better than to argue with the pure ball of energy that was Keeley Jones. In the short time you’ve known her, you loved the beaming blonde. She and Rebecca were infectious in their laughter, light, and kindness. When you first interviewed, you were intimidated by the two women, but you quickly learned that they were goofy as hell and always down to gossip.

Grabbing your purse, you dutifully followed Keeley through the maze of hallways. She passed the locker room without a second glance, but you made sure to peek over your shoulder to see a few of the guys streaming out of the doors.

“Yo, Keeley!” someone called. She spun around and waved at whoever yelled and then grabbed your hand, pulling you over to talk to a few of the guys.

“Hi Isaac! Have you met our new social media manager yet? She’s gonna be the one making you all look sexy on the Gram now,” she announced. You offered them a tentative smile and the large man in front of you beamed.

“Isaac McAdoo,” he introduced. You gave him your name in turn and then cleared your throat. You weren’t as charismatic or bubbly as Keeley, but you were trying to make more of an effort. Your last job was filled with a few passive aggressive comments thrown over cubicle walls and then bossa nova jazz everyday. No one had been chatty or nice the way everyone was at Richmond.

“I’ve actually been meaning to set up meetings with all the players,” you explained. “My job is to handle the team’s socials, but I also want to integrate the players' ideas and individual brands. I’d also like to know if anyone is working with a management team so I can coordinate with them on certain posts.”

“Isn’t she fucking brilliant?” Keeley exclaimed.

Isaac puffed out his chest and flexed his biceps. “As long as you make us look good, then I’m in.”

Keeley patted you on the shoulder. “We should get going to lunch, but check your email soon. I’ll make sure we can coordinate times to meet.”

“Awesome. Nice to meet you!” He darted off to go talk to someone else and Keeley slid her arm into the crook of yours so she could lead you out of the building and down the road.

“Isaac’s all bark and no bite unless you’re on the field,” she explained. “Sam is an absolute sweetie and Colin is darling. Richard is my go-to when I need to know a wine pairing and Zoreaux is a beast at Dance Dance Revolution. Bumbercatch is…”

Keeley listed off all the players on the team and you tried to keep a mental catalog of everything she said, but it was making your head spin. You were grateful once she stopped outside a small cafe that was indeed a short walk from Nelson Road. A simple vanilla latte and a chicken cobb salad was your order while Keeley got a complicated drink and a wrap.

The owner, Alex, handed the two of you your drinks and you turned with the intention of finding a table to wait for the food when Keeley stopped short. Some guy stood half-obscured by the plant shelves, but he stepped out once he realized he caught Keeley’s attention.

“Jamie?!” she exclaimed.

“I-I’m not stalking ya,” he blurted out. “I’ve been following you for, like, a few blocks now and I couldn’t text ya because I deleted your number.”

As he rambled on, his words started to fade in and out as you took him in. His slicked back hair made him look like a corny Godfather character and the all black ensemble didn’t help. You could understand why people fawned over him with that strong jaw and blue eyes, but as his lips moved all you could hear was his smarmy talk from the show this morning. 

“So, yeah, I’ve been following you for the last few blocks. No, I’m lying. I’ve been following you for your whole lunch hour. But I’ve just been trying to build up the courage to say hi…so…hi.” His voice trailed off and he shrugged.

“That’s, like, the definition of stalking,” you murmured which drew his attention to you. Jamie Tartt was starting to feel like a bad omen that was following you around.

“Hi, sorry. Jamie Tartt.” He offered you a cocky smile that you recognized from the TV that morning and you merely glanced down at his outstretched hand. You had no idea where that hand had been. Raising a single eyebrow, you let your gaze trail up from his hand to his face.

“I’ll go find us a table,” you said to Keeley before you brushed past him and found an empty table by the window. You always loved sitting by the window and watching the world pass by. You could make up stories about the people that passed by. Like the lady walking two poodles. Maybe she was some CEO or maybe she was an undercover agent. That would be sick as hell.

“Sorry about that, babe,” Keeley apologized. She placed your salad in front of you and then took the seat across from you. “Now, I just want to say that your idea about meeting all the players? Brilliant. Absolutely fucking brilliant. When we get back to the office, we can set up a calendar for everyone to schedule a time to meet with you. How’s that sound?”

“That’s great. I really love working here.” You looked towards the door where Jamie Tartt was heading out of, a coffee clutched in his hand. He glanced back at the table you were sitting at and you immediately looked away and back at Keeley. You offered her a tight smile and nodded along to whatever she was saying.

Hopefully that was the last time you would ever see Jamie Tartt.

Tag List: @shiptheship​

[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]

[babytarttdoodoo]

hi! i love your writing! i have a prompt for colin and isaac (platonic) please! could you write something where colin gets hurt- maybe one of the more serious injuries he's had while playing, and isaac is beside himself with worry and being a protective bestie the whole time, maybe with a hug and isaac managing to throw in a stilted 'i love you' to colin after colin's all patched up?

What a delight to write these two! Thank you for the prompt!

---

“You did that on fucking purpose, you smarmy arsehole!”

Typical, really, that Jamie’s screeching voice was the first to cut through the white haze of pain that had enveloped Colin’s senses. The man spoke at a pitch that really carried.

He still sounded distant, though, which was a good indicator the outrage wasn’t directed at Colin himself. In fact, now more of the outside world was filtering in, he could hear a lot of yelling that was happening above and around him.

Oh, and a whistle. That was loud.

He must have groaned or given some other kind of indication he was awake and aware since firm hands planted themselves on his shoulder and head.

“Don’t move, yet, Hughes. They’re bringing out a stretcher for you.”

“What happened?” Colin asked, though it came out as a mushy mumble of nonsense, rather than actual words. He tried to open his eyes, not managing more than a pained squint in the face of the harsh light that punished him for the effort.

“Is he awake? Let me through!” That was definitely Isaac, a realisation that made Colin relax. It was fine if he didn’t know what was going on - his captain was looking out for him.

“Calm down, McAdoo, let us do our jobs. We need to get him off the pitch.”

A whistle sounded again and Colin flinched when it seared through his head. “Fucking hell.”

The nameless figure holding him down gave an amused huff. “See? He’s fine. Now clear a path.”

Seconds, minutes, maybe hours passed Colin by in a blur of more hands and lights and voices. Sense crept back in gradually, impeded by dips in and out of consciousness and the heady pull of medication that worked to force the pain beneath a wash of numbness.

Eventually, though, he came back to himself. Sore, nauseated and confused above all else.

It wasn’t grass under his hands anymore. Instead, his fingers dug into soft sheets as he struggled towards wakefulness. The shouting and whistles and chaos had been replaced by a soft, rhythmic beeping.

Colin opened his eyes. “Am I in hospital?”

“Jesus!” Someone startled to his right and it took more effort than was really fair to turn his head. Isaac was poised half-out of a chair at Colin’s bedside, staring at him like he’d just seen a ghost. “You’re awake,” he stated.

“Yeah, thanks for that, mate.” Colin made a valiant attempt at sitting up and was immediately halted by a spike of pain through his skull. “Ahhhh no, not doing that, fuck…”

“Shit. Here, let me…” Isaac scrambled for what looked like a bulky old tv remote and held down a button. The bed rose steadily under Colin’s back and left him in a gently reclined position with much less fuss. “Better?”

“Yeah, yeah, loads. Thanks.” Colin cleared his throat, looking around at the small, quiet room. The only things of note were the machines and equipment currently hooked up to him in one way or another. “Why am I in the hospital?”

“You don’t remember?” Isaac frowned. “You got kicked in the fucking head, bruv.”

Colin blinked. That explained the headache, then. “Oh. How’d that happen?”

Isaac sank back into his chair and dragged his hands over his face. He was still in his Richmond trackies.

“You got tackled in the first half. Went down hard.” Colin remembered that bit, vaguely. Another player’s foot had clattered against his shins before his momentum sent him to the ground. “Colbridge ran right over your skull. Said it was an accident.”

Colin winced, reaching up to check that his head was, in fact, all in one piece. He could feel a patch of gauze taped in place above his left temple. “Was it?” he croaked.

Something dark passed over Isaac’s expression. “Dunno. Jamie didn’t think so. He got sent off for taking a swing.”

“What?!” Colin gaped at Isaac’s unaffected shrug. “What happened with the match? Did we win?���

“Two all. It don’t matter.”

“Of course it does, mate! We needed the points!” Colin groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “Roy’s going to be so mad.”

“Yeah, well, he went in front of the cameras and demanded a League investigation so he’s probably going to be pissed off for a bit anyway. I should text him, actually, he wanted to know when you were awake…”

“Investigation?” Colin repeated faintly. “That not a bit much, mate?”

Isaac fell quiet and Colin chanced another look at him. His face was set in deep, solemn lines, eyes flitting over Colin’s frame every so often, as if checking he was still as intact as at the last glance.

“You didn’t see yourself,” he said finally, quiet. “Blood all over you. You wouldn’t wake up properly, couldn’t answer any of the medics’ questions. Beard went with you in the ambulance and we all had to just… keep playing. It was bad.”

He leaned back in his chair, taking a deep, shaky breath.

“Then we got off the pitch and couldn’t come see you right away. The fucking press kept showing the footage over and over, and Jamie was getting questioned about what he did, and Roy was storming around yelling at everyone…” Isaac shook his head. “We were really worried, mate. I didn’t know if…”

“Oh.” Colin said again, not sure what else he could add to all that. The thought of his unconscious, bleeding face being broadcast across the country was more than a little disconcerting. “Did... Has anyone phoned my mum?”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck, sorry,” Isaac nodded quickly. “Nate called her while Roy dealt with the press stuff. Told her you were gonna be alright as soon as we got the okay from the doctors. And I got a hold of Michael. Rebecca’s sent a car to drive him up from London.”

Colin blinked. That was nice. “How long have I been out?”

Isaac checked his phone for the time before opening up a chat window. “Match ended about four hours ago. He should be here soon, actually.”

He typed out a few rapid messages while Colin digested all that information. Head wounds bleed a lot, he knew. It wasn’t surprising that he’d made a scary picture. It still seemed like Isaac was on edge, though, considering he’d apparently been given the all clear.

“Surprised Jamie was the one who got a red card,” he ventured eventually. Isaac snorted.

“Yeah, well, the rest of us were holding back Richard and forgot to keep him in check too.”

“Why did he think it wasn’t an accident?”

Isaac’s thumbs paused over his screen. He didn’t meet Colin’s eyes. “... he got to you first. Head Colbridge say some shit. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Isaac.” He smiled a little when his friend reluctantly raised his head. “I can handle it, boyo.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Isaac objected immediately. He huffed. “He was being a homophobic piece of shit and it’s not your problem, alright? Like I said, Jamie smacked him and Roy’s taking care of the official stuff. It’s being sorted.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Colin sighed, looking down at his hands. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s not your fault,” Isaac cut him off firmly. “It’s him, and the League, and every other fucker who thinks they’ve got any right to...”

He quietened down again, all the fight seeping out of his broad frame with another look at his friend laid up in a hospital bed.

“This doesn’t get to happen again.”

Colin swallowed against the swell of emotion in his throat and closed his eyes again when his vision blurred. He did his best to ignore the streak of tears he felt run down his cheek and trusted Isaac to do the same. “Yeah, alright. Whatever you say, captain.”

The careful arms around his shoulders were a surprise.

Isaac didn’t squeeze tight or pull him closer, just held him against his solid, warm weight. It was unbearably comforting and Colin tentatively put his arms around him in kind, mindful of the wires and tubes connected to his hands.

“I’ll be alright, y’know,” he told him gently. Isaac made a soft, wet sound.

“I love you too, bruv. Should have said it before." Now he squeezed, seemingly taking strength from it. "This doesn’t happen again.”

[straightupsickfics]

best friends, ex-friends til the end | royjamie

(better off as lovers)

this is definitely something that i wrote to get out of my own head after thinking about it literally since the show ended.. but maybe someone else will enjoy a little (~2.1k words) sick jamie + reluctantly caring roy kent <3

Sicktember Prompt #2: “What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?”

Jamie really doesn’t think anything of it when most of the lads (...and Ted, Trent, Rebecca, and Higgins) are all out with some kind of mysterious cold throughout the early fall. He felt bad for them, yeah, course, offered to bring Colin and Isaac and Dani soup, even. But it didn’t occur to him that he should be, like, “worried about germs,” or whatever. 

Jamie Tartt never gets sick. 

Like, ever. 

He has an unbeatable immune system, and, according to his mum, he always has. Not that any of his ill teammates seem particularly interested in hearing about that particular fact when he shares it on one of his soup drop offs. Isaac had actually told him to “fuck off outta here with that gloating,” while Colin cough-laughed beside him. 

Well, fine. Jamie knows when he isn’t wanted. He leaves, confident they’d be fine in a few days, no doubt thanks to the soup he’d left them. Then, they can all make their way back to normal on the pitch. The whole dynamic’s been off for weeks with everyone being taken out one by one by this thing, and Jamie’s getting sick of it. He needs everyone there to really dominate the way he’s used to, even if it means he has be “a bit of a fucking prick about it.” (Roy’s words). 

It turns out, all of that ass crack of dawn training is paying off after all. Like, really paying off — Jamie is better and faster than ever now, all thanks to his supreme commitment to the game, and his unmatched talent. 

And Roy’s training. 

Okay, mostly Roy’s training, but he wouldn’t be admitting that much out loud without more than a few pints in him. And since Roy isn’t letting him drink at the moment, Jamie figures he’s in the clear. 

So, yeah, Jamie Tartt’s life is fucking mint as of late. 

Now, leaving Isaac and Colin’s, he looks down at his phone and finds a message from Roy himself, think of the devil. 

Granddad: McAdoo just said you’d been by… WTF are you thinking?? You want to lose a week with whatever fucking bubonic plague’s going around the club???

Jamie: Christ, do you get tired of yelling at me, old man? It’s FINE. Jamie Tartt don’t CATCH the plague 

Granddad: 🙄 If you say so, but don’t come crying to me when you’re laid up in bed you absolute muppet. Get some sleep, I’ll see you at 4:00 AM. 

Jamie: Be there with bells on ♥️

*

The next few days go by in a blur of training, post-training FIFA with Roy, and sleep. He’s been feeling knocked on his ass every night this week, overtired and exhausted in a way he usually isn’t, thanks to Roy’s brutal workout regime, but he can hardly complain with the way he’s been playing. He’s been getting home late most nights, too, always a little reluctant to leave Roy’s and go home to his own empty flat. 

It’s not like Roy seems to mind either, though. He’s been making them dinners almost every night, after all. Or, well, he makes dinner and sets out two plates and doesn’t tell Jamie to get lost, which is basically the same thing, right? It’s nice, having some company. Having Roy for company, has become something he never knew he needed. 

Or maybe he just never let himself even think about asking for it. 

After one such night, Jamie showers and climbs into his bed (empty, always empty, these days, something a former version of himself would never believe let alone enjoy). He thinks about Roy. Thinks, tiredly, how nice it might be if Roy were here now, and then shakes the thought away. Since when does he think about Roy Kent in bed? 

(Since always, he’s had a poster of him over his bed since he was thirteen.) 

Thoughts of Roy are replaced with thoughts about water. His throat’s been dry all day, and a glass of water sounds killer right now, but Jamie’s asleep before he can do anything about it. 

*

Jamie wakes up to something jackhammering. 

No, not jackhammering. It’s his phone, vibrating on his nightstand. 

Fuck, why is it so loud? He pulls himself up to look at it, but he feels like he’s been him by a ton of bricks. Bad idea. He feels like utter shite if he’s honest, like he got hit by a truck in his sleep. His head’s pounding, for one thing, he can’t even think straight, and the dry, scratchy throat from last night has grown into a monster of a sore throat. Plus, he feels sweaty all over. 

Shit.

Roy was going to kill him. 

Shit. Roy. Their training. It’s that thought that gets Jamie into an upright position, at least enough so that he can grab his phone before laying back down with it. There are five missed calls from Granddad, and a handful of texts and other notifications that Jamie ignores for now. 

Somewhere in his scrolling, it hits Jamie that the sun is coming in through his window. It’s almost 8:00 in the morning, and he’s completely missed their training. He’d slept through his alarm, missing the training with Roy, and, judging by how entirely fucked he feels, would likely miss the team training today, too. 

Jamie swallows and winces. His throat feels like he’s swallowing burning knives, but he calls Roy back anyway. 

Roy answers on the first ring, and by some act of Jesus Christ himself, doesn’t sound pissed off. 

“What the fuck, Tartt, are you alright” 

No, he definitely doesn’t sound mad, he sounds… concerned. 

“Mm? Yeah, grand.” Jamie tries to sound relaxed, but his voice sounds awful, hoarse and gravelly and blurred with congestion. 

“Fuuuuck,” is all Roy says for a minute. Then: “Let me in, I’m outside.” 

*

“So, what happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?” Roy says when Jamie finally makes his way to the front door and lets him in. 

Jamie tries to roll his eyes, but even that hurts his head. “First time for everything, yeah? What’re you doin’ here?” 

“You didn’t show up for almost four hours!” Roy explodes. “You weren’t answering your phone, no one had heard from you, I was—” Roy stops himself, looking at Jamie and then away, suddenly finding the cars in the driveway extremely interesting. 

“Aw, you were worried about me,” Jamie supplies. It would be much better if he could actually enjoy this moment, but as it is he feels like he could collapse at any moment, so he holds onto the cool granite of his kitchen island. 

“Fuck off,” Roy growls. 

“You came to me in me hour of need,” Jamie says, then turns to the side and coughs, ruining the moment. 

“To be fair I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere, had to make sure I didn’t need to see about finding a replacement.” 

“I’m irreplaceable, hello? There’s no replacing an icon.” Not that he feels like much of an icon now, with his nose starting to run and an annoying itch starting to form somewhere behind his sinuses. He scrubs a hand over his face, wishing Roy was here in his flat on literally any other morning. 

“Muppet,” Roy says, shaking his head and studying him in a way that always makes Jamie feel all squirmy inside. 

“S-shit, gimme me a second,” Jamie says, breath catching as he turns away and sneezes four times in quick succession. “Hh’itsh! Hpt-ISH! Uh-hu’ishhiew! IshhIEW!” 

“Were those sneezes? Y’sound like Phoebe’s cat when she sneezes.” 

Jamie just groans, turns around, and flops onto the couch. He doesn’t even have the energy to argue with Roy, and he loves arguing with Roy. 

“Bless you, by the way,” Roy says, voice just marginally softer as he follows Jamie to the living room. 

“Sorry I missed training,” Jamie says, voice half lost to the pillow he’s currently trying to disappear into. “Y’can find a new way to punish me for it next week, m’sure.” 

Roy’s quiet for a minute. “Think you get a pass. Team spirit, lookin’ out for the lads when they needed it and all.” 

Jamie lifts his head up, arches an eyebrow. “Thought you said don’t come cryin’ to ya?”

“I came to you, didn’t I?” 

“‘Cause you were worried about me,” Jamie says, smiling despite how bad, well, everything feels just now. 

Roy’s here. Jamie’s flat feels warmer with another person here, which helps, since he’s freezing on top of everything else. 

“Do you have any tea in this place?” Is all Roy says in reply. He’s already back in the kitchen, navigating around Jamie’s cupboards like he lives there, and Jamie’s thinking how nice it all is when he falls asleep again, right there on the couch. 

*

When he wakes up again, Roy is still there, Jamie’s feet in his lap, and it’s much later in the day, he can tell immediately. He must be so sick he’s hallucinating, because there’s no way Roy Kent came over to watch him sleep, covered him with a blanket, and is watching You’ve Got Mail on his TV. 

“Ah, you’re alive. I was starting to think I should call someone,” Roy says when Jamie stirs. “You look like shit. Take that,” Roy continues, pointing to a bottle of something and a glass of water on the coffee table. 

Jamie feels, impossibly, worse than he had this morning, his head feels like it weighs about a million pounds. He doesn’t argue, just swallows the medicine and water and grimaces at Roy.

“Didn’t have to stay here,” Jamie says. His voice is wrecked. 

“Fuck, you sound fucking awful,” Roy says, his hand on Jamie’s ankle — how long had that been there? He moves his thumb up and back absentmindedly, and suddenly it’s all Jamie can focus on. 

What is happening?

“Well, never drank that tea you were on about earlier,” Jamie says.

Roy nods. “Never do want to listen to me,” he says, but his voice is different now, softer. Kinder. Fonder.

“Took the liberty of ordering a takeaway, should be here soon. Soup for you,” Roy says. His hand is still there, warm on Jamie’s ankle. 

“huh-IItshh! IishhIEW!” The sneezes catch Jamie completely off guard, shivering out of him before he can do anything but lean into it. “Sorry,” he mutters, sniffling. He looks pathetic, he knows that, and he’s torn between elation that Roy’s here and complete humiliation. “You’ll be down with this next,” he warns.

“Bless you. Y’really do sneeze like a cat, Tartt.” 

Jamie’s laugh turns into another coughing fit, and when Roy leans up to rub his back, he decides that happiness wins out over embarrassment. 

They’re side by side now, closer than they’d usually sit for FIFA, though not by much. They’d been getting closer in just about every way these last few months, and Jamie realizes he’d like nothing more than to lean into it. Let Roy deal with all of it in that growly, take-charge way he has about everything else. He’d feel better soon if Roy said so, right? 

“Food should be here soon, if you want to close your eyes for a few more minutes. This prick hasn’t put Meg Ryan out of business yet, so…” Roy trails off, eyes trained on the screen rather than Jamie, who nods. His eyes and head are still so heavy. 

Daring a look at Roy out of the corner of his eye, Jamie lets his head rest on his shoulder, sniffling into the soft fabric of Roy’s ubiquitous black t-shirt and yawning. He could get used to this, if he let himself. Whatever this is…

“You’re thinking really fucking loudly,” Roy says, voice impossibly close to his ear. He doesn’t sound mad about it, though, more like amused. Jamie’s still half convinced he’s dreaming this entire day. Jamie Tartt doesn’t get sick, for one thing, and Roy Kent doesn’t play nurse with his players. “Close your eyes.”

“Fine, but only to stop your yelling, Granddad,” Jamie says with another yawn. He doesn’t lift his head from Roy’s shoulder, and Roy doesn’t say anything else, just turns his attention back to the movie.

Jamie’s ninety-nine percent asleep when he feels it, the faintest, softest brush of lips against his sweaty forehead. 

Maybe this is something after all. 

Maybe Roy Kent does play nurse when it matters. 

And maybe Jamie Tartt does get sick, though he decides then and there that it’s not too bad if this is what he gets in return. Pretty fucking mint, in fact. 

[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?!

[jamiesfootball]

please do tell me more about the brilliant “isaac mcadoo gets a one-eyed bunny” pearl you dropped on me last week i am so. I AM SO !!!!!! ABOUT IT.

Loosely based off of this and this and this and a few other posts about giving the Richmond lads pets

“What’s her name?” “A Good Samaritan brought her in, so we’re not sure. People don’t really microchip rabbits. We’ve just been calling her Bun-Bun.” “Then that’s her name,” said Isaac.

First Jamie with his monster cat, a true beast dressed up all fancy in an embroidered cravat, the two of them clogging up Isaac’s Twitter feed. (Isaac heard him out when he said he was trying to be better, but Isaac believed him when he saw him with the cat. The best-est cat in the world, he’d tell anyone, with a cheek-splitting grin on his face that rendered him almost unrecognizable from the man Isaac knew a year ago.) Then Dani with Jude of the forlorn eyes. A sweet dog, a real good boy, the both of them. (Isaac did not tear up when Dani showed him how to avoid petting the gnarled scar across his neck, from where a crueler owner left carelessness like a brand.) Then Dani had mentioned the other animals at the shelter, and well. It was a field trip now, wasn’t it? “This is Remy,” Moe explained as he cradled a small rat in his hand. “He used to be an explosives expert. Found land mines.” Jan scoffed. “That is not what the card on the cage said." “Doesn't matter what the card said, man. Just look at his eyes.”

Isaac ignored them, orbiting closer to Sam. The young man looked even younger than usual, his eyes wide with wonder as he peered through the glass. “You thinking about it?” Isaac asked. “I know nothing about snakes,” Sam whispered. Two orange shoelaces entwined together on a sandy rock. “I should let someone else find them. Someone who will know how to care for him.” Sam didn't sound like he believed a word he said. Isaac clapped him on the shoulder in sympathy.

Isaac wasn't looking for a critter to take home. Nah, he had enough on his plate. He was being smart about it. All the others, they could take on the weight and the care and the responsibility for a living breathing thing. Isaac had enough of those in his life: twenty-four of them in the locker room alone. At least if the whole team got pets, then he'd always have a good excuse to check in on them. Could say he was just in the mood to pet some dogs, or look at some fish, or perish under the weight of Jamie's massive behemoth of a cat. He could not imagine ever looking Moe in the eye and saying the words 'please let me hold your pet rat,' but he'd say them if it meant being a good captain.

The problem, he knew, with Moe and the rat was that once you named the thing you wanted, it made it impossible to want it any less.

Isaac hadn't know he wanted to be captain before Roy handed him that armband, and now it was all he wanted.

But he hadn't thought it would take so much work. Roy made that shit look easy. Even before Roy woke up from whatever coma he'd been in and started putting in the effort, the lads always followed in his wake. It wasn't like that with Isaac. He could command a room, sure, but did they listen? He could speak to them, but he couldn't move them. He couldn't remake their world the way Lasso rallied the team with his speeches.

He wanted to be the tides that could buoy hearts back to shore. It wasn't enough to have them listen if they didn't take his words to heart.

The team was a commitment that left no room for fuzzy little critters.

In a cage on the ground was a tiny bunny.

Isaac froze.

The bunny froze.

The enclosure was makeshift, nothing more than a cage on the ground with cardboard peaking out the sides. Hay tickled around the sides, and a tipped-over packing supply box made for a hidey-hole. Isaac towered in the bunny's sky. Far away on the ground the bunny huddled into a shivering ball no bigger than Isaac's shoe, a small black hole on the distant horizon.

One of the shelter's volunteers caught him staring and shimmered into existence at his side. "If you're interested in rabbits, that's our only one right now. Would you like to hold her?"

"Would I?" Isaac repeated.

The volunteer took that as a 'yes.'

The fur under his hands was immaculately shiny, a sort of brownish-black that parted under his hands like waves in a sea. She shivered. Isaac cradled her in his palms, following the volunteer's instructions to support her legs and back. Pressed next to his bicep, she looked like an afterthought.

Growing up Isaac had known with childish certainty that it was the feet of rabbits that went thump-thump-thump. As he held the small creature against his chest he felt the reality of its tiny heart singing thump-thump-thump.

"What happened to the ear?" he asked.

"It's a bit gruesome," the volunteer warned delicately. "But it sometimes happens after the mother gives birth--she gets a little carried away in the cleaning up. It worries some people off adopting, but the bunny is fine! Completely healthy, this one. so long as you don't mind a little imperfection."

The volunteer made it sound so easy. When Roy had handed over the armband, that had sounded easy too. That was how they got you. They dangled a carrot in front of you, and sometimes the carrot looked like respect or captain, and sometimes the carrot looked like a tribble and shivered in your hands, daring you to hold too tight.

Isaac did not need a pet. He had responsibilities, a weight upon his shoulders he'd never planned for.

Held aloft in the sky, the rabbit weighed hardly more than a feather.

"What's her name?"

[orbitalpirate]

What are the cute little nicknames the 9 have for each other?

This is going to be such a long one because I have so many thoughts so obligatory read more

Jamie: Sam calls him brother sometimes, Dani obviously calls him amigo, Colin calls him worm sometimes as a callback or Jame, Isaac calls him Tartty Party, Richard calls him JamieTartt a lot all one word, Jan calls him Englishman, Thierry is terrible at nicknames calls him bro bc he used to call him bra bc he used to call him brassiere bc he used to call him pasties bc he used to call him pastry bc he used to call him Jam Tart bc his name is Jamie Tartt, Moe calls him Golden Boy

Sam: Jamie calls him my brother or my boy, Dani calls him Sammy Boy, Colin calls him Obie, Isaac calls him Sam the Man, Richard calls him Sanya, Jan calls him Sammuel, Thierry back at it again with drum machine bc he used to call him rhythm section bc he used to call him rhyme time bc he used to call him Sam Jam, Moe calls him Prince Sam

Dani: Jamie calls him Muchacho, Sam calls him Rojas, Colin calls him Dan the Man, Isaac calls him Ace, Richard calls him A.B. short for alter boy after they bonded over the realization that they were both alter boys, Jan calls him Believer bc of a long fight they got in about the existence of ghosts, Thierry calls him BB bc he used to call him baby boy bc he used to call him junior bc he used to call him Isaac jr bc he used to call him rolos bc he used to call him rojo bc Rojas, Bumbercatch calls him Lightning

Colin: Jamie calls him Col or worm, Sam calls him Hugh Grant, Dani calls him Colin the Chameleon (associated with my personal belief of the fan song for colin), Isaac calls him so many things including Babe Honey Bestie GBF Hughes Col and many others, Richard calls him Koala, Jan calls Goldfish, Thierry calls him seven bc he called him prime bc he calls him primary color bc he used to call hum color wheel bc he used to him Hue, Bumbercatch calls him Star

Isaac: Jamie calls him big man, Sam calls him captain, Dani calls him captain, Colin also calls him so many things Brother Bear I-Man Mcadoo Best Boyo, Richard calls him Mcadoo, Jan calls him my captain, Thierry actually just calls Isaac Captain, Moe calls him hotstuff and top man

Richard: (I should say he hates all nicknames) Jamie calls him Francois, Sam calls him the sommelier, Dani calls him Chee, Colin calls him The Shard, Isaac calls him Dick Law, Jan calls him Liefje, Thierry calls him sexy bc he used to call him hotty bc he used to call him hot chick bc he used to call him chicken sandwich bc he used to call him chicken cordon bleu bc he used to call him Cordon, Moe calls him Fancy Pants

Jan: Jamie calls him dutchman, Sam calls him Dutchy, Dani calls him Jam, Colin calls him Giant, Isaac calls him Tree, Richard calls him amour heart babe baby Richard calls Jan anything he can get in there, Thierry calls him Dead man as a threat that he better not hurt Richard (Jan finds this hilarious), Moe calls him Blondie

Thierry: Jamie calls him Zorro, Sam calls him Zman, Dani calls him brother, Colin calls him Terrence, Isaac calls him Montreal, Richard calls him frere, Jan calls him Masked Man, Bumbercatch calls him Goalman

Bumbercatch: Jamie calls him Bumbie, Sam calls him catch, Dani calls him Benedict, Colin calls him Moseph, Isaac calls him Bee, Richard calls him MBP (like mvp but mb for moe Bumbercatch), Jan calls him Team Dork, Thierry calls him honey, bc he used to call him bumberbee (many people think they are dating, they absolutely are not)