#jamie tartt fan fiction

[starryevermore]

tis the damn season ✧ jamie tartt

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pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

summary: he won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask him to stay. so he’ll go back to london and the so-called friends who’ll write books about him, if he ever makes it, and wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles he’s faking. and the heart he knows he’s breaking is his own, to leave the warmest bed he’s ever known. 

word count: 4,850

warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, (badly written) smut, unprotected sex, pinv sex, angst, breaking up, pining, not proofread

Jamie Tartt was not the type of man to fall in love. He didn’t think he was capable of it. Something about his heart, maybe. Something about how his dad made him feel like love was a weakness. That if he ever opened himself up to a person like that, his dad would be disappointed, and where there came disappointment… If he was a poet, he could probably say it more eloquently. But Jamie Tartt was a far cry from a poet. The best he could say was that he couldn’t love—no matter what, no matter who. 

And maybe that’s why it stung, just a little bit, when his mum mentioned you. 

He had come back up to Manchester for the holidays—something he seldom did, in an effort to avoid his dad. But he missed home, he missed his mum. And, besides, it was the holidays. There were no games to be played. No training he had to attend. It was kind of sad to be at the bars and clubs on Christmas. What else was he to do besides go home? Was there anything left for him in London? So, he came and prayed that James Tartt would be nowhere to be found. 

He was lucky in that regard, but all luck runs out eventually. 

“I saw that girl you used to go to school with when I went to the shop yesterday,” Georgie said when Jamie came down for dinner. Jamie grabbed one of the rolls Simon made, scarfing it down before grabbing a second. He watched his mum as he chewed, wondering where she was going with this. “Oh, what’s her name? The one who always had her nose in a book? You remember, the girl you always followed around like a puppy.”

Oh, Jamie remembered you. He remembered you quite well. You were his first actual girlfriend, back before he became a famous footballer. You didn’t care much for football, or the fact that Jamie’s right foot had been kissed by God and that he was well on his way of making a career out of the only thing he cared for. Well, okay, you did care about him achieving his dreams (had they been his dreams? or had all of it been something his father pushed on him? fuck—this is why he doesn’t come home for the holidays. it makes him think too much). But you cared more about him. You cared about how rocky road was his favorite ice cream flavor. You cared about how Disney movies were his favorite—and not the newer shit, the classic stuff. You cared about how he liked to be held and have his hair played with. You cared about how Jamie would try to read the books you loved just to try to understand you more. You cared, and he couldn’t, and that’s why it ended. 

He muttered your name before shoveling another forkful of food into his mouth. 

“That’s right! Sweet girl, she is, you know? Anyway, apparently she’s opened up this cute little book shop.”

“Why’re you telling me about this?” Jamie asked, mid-way through chewing his food. Simon gave him a disapproving look. Simon only looked disapproving when Jamie forgot his manners. But why should he give a fuck about manners? He was signed by Man City! He was such a good footballer that he got loaned out to Richmond to help their pathetic asses! Jamie Tartt could be a complete and utter prick, and nothing would ever go wrong. He could have anything, anyone he wanted. (Except, maybe, you.) 

“I stopped in the other day, during the big grand opening,” Georgie continued. “It was such a wonderful event. She even made cookies! You remember them? Those little peanut butter things that you would always beg for? Oh, Simon might have cracked the code on the recipe!” She nudged Simon with her elbow. “‘Course, he could always just ask for the recipe. I’m sure she would be happy to give it. But he has to do everything himself!”

Jamie stared at his mum. She would get to her point eventually. No need in him saying anything until she reached it. 

“Anyways, she was asking about you. Said she hoped you were doing well. I told her you were, that you were doing well at Richmond. But I think you should stop by her shop. It would be nice to see her, wouldn’t it?”

He shrugged. “I guess. Don’t really talk to her anymore, y’know? Haven’t for years. Be kinda weird to show up now.”

“Just think about it, okay? I think she’d be happy to see you.”

He shrugged, again. If Jamie was honest with himself, he would agree it would be nice to see you. But…Well, the last time he saw you, he hadn’t exactly left on good terms. 

Six Years Ago…

Jamie couldn’t meet your gaze. If he looked you in the eyes, he would falter. If he faltered, he would never make it out of here. And, fuck, he really needed to make it out of here. But when you spoke to him, your voice quivering ever so slightly, he nearly broke his resolve. 

“What are you saying, JamJam?”

Okay. Okay, that he could focus on. Direct his frustrations to that. If he made a big deal out of that, he could stamp down all of the other awful feelings he had towards that. 

“Don’t call me that. I hate it when you call me that,” Jamie lied. 

A frown settled on your face. You took a step towards him, reaching out. He took a step back. “I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. Why are you doing this?”

Jamie looked away again. Fuck, he really couldn’t do this. How do other people break up so easily? His dad had no problem leaving his mum. Why was he having so much trouble leaving you? He tried to think back to something his dad had said—anything his dad had said—when he was having horrible, blow out fights with his mum that Jamie couldn’t ignore no matter how many times he tried stuffing his ears. But his mind was drawing a blank. 

He couldn’t think straight when he was with you. 

“Well? Are you going to say something or are you going to keep acting like a dick?”

He sucked in a breath and settled on, “I can’t be with someone like you anymore. Would look bad for my career.”

“Your career…?” you repeated. You shook your head, like you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Is this really because you’ve signed to Man City?”

Jamie shrugged. He didn’t know what he could say to you. Anything that came out of his mouth would only make things worse. Not that this was really going well. But he couldn’t…He didn’t want to break your heart, not really. He’d wanted this to be a clean break. Something that you’d understand, and you’d let him go. But everything he said just made it harder and harder to go. 

“Because if it is, you really are the biggest fucking prick I’ve ever met,” you continued. “Like, seriously? You finally start making it big and you want to throw everything from your old, poor life behind? What’s next? You’re gonna tell Georgie you won’t take her calls anymore? Pretend that you never knew any of us?”

“Don’t talk about my mum.” Ugh, fuck. This was going worse than he ever could have imagined. He looked back at you, trying to give you the most disinterested look he could manage. “Just get outta here. I don’t have time for this anymore.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You are a fucking prick. What, you’ll defend your mum but rag on me? That’s spineless, Jamie. If you want to break up with me because you’re going to be too famous for me, just fucking say so.”

Shit. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go. He didn’t want to make you angry. He just…He wanted you to understand. (But understand what? That he was a spineless coward, letting his dad’s words about not needing to be tied down when he entered the big leagues get to his head?) “Always been a prick. You’re just finally catching up with everyone else.”

You rolled your eyes again. With a shake of your head, you said, “You know what? I hope this is all worth it. Making me hate you before you leave. Because now all I can think when I see you is that I can’t believe I wasted my time with a guy who can’t even be honest with me.”

Jamie bit his tongue, holding back everything he wanted to say to you. To tell you the truth, to apologize and get on his knees and grovel until you forgave him. But instead, he only looked away. “Whatever.”

For a long moment, you stared at him, not saying a word. Probably waiting for him to make the first move, to see if he was going to actually let you in. But when he didn’t, you only shook your head, turned, and left. 

Jamie stood there, listening to you go down the stairs, shout a goodbye at Georgie, then the door shut. A minute later, his mum came up the stairs, poking her head in. She tutted when she saw all of his things strewn about the room, not even close to being finished packing. 

“I thought she was going to help you pack? You two get distracted again?” Georgie asked. 

“Something like that,” Jamie grumbled. He grabbed his duffel bag, starting to shove his shirts in it. “Don’t gotta worry about that no more. She won’t distract me anymore.”

Georgie frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

Jamie looked out the window, catching a glimpse of you as you walked down the street to your own home. “Just don’t gotta worry anymore. We won’t be seeing her around anymore.”

And, oh, how he hated himself for that. But he would never admit it. He’d rather lie to himself, convince himself that this was a good thing, than admit that he just made what was, perhaps, the biggest mistake of his life. 

“I’m going out a run,” Jamie said when dinner was finished and Simon began to collect the plates to be washed. 

Georgie rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Can take my boy away from the game, but can’t take the game out of my boy,” she teased, reaching over and pinching one of his cheeks. Jamie let out a chuckle at the gesture. More seriously, she said, “Be careful. And make sure you have your phone on ya, yeah? Just ‘cause you’re a big footballer now, doesn’t mean that you can’t get into trouble.”

Jamie nodded, not really listening. He just needed to get out of there, if only for an hour or two. He loved his mum, yeah, but something about how the conversation turned to you really unnerved him. He’d done just fine not thinking about you for the last however many years. But now that you were forced back into his brain, he couldn’t figure out how to shake you out. So, he slipped on his trainers, pulled on a jacket, and shouted his goodbye to his mum and Simon before disappearing into the night. 

He wasn’t quite sure where he was heading. It was like his feet had a mind of his own, taking him wherever they pleased. And who was he to judge? After all, his feet made his fucking career. Without his feet, he would have nothing. So, if they wanted to take him on a tour of Manchester, fine by him. It’s just…Well, he’d prefer it if the tour didn’t end right outside of your bookshop. 

Jamie stared at the “open” sign for a long time. It was odd for a shop to be open so late, but you always were a night owl. You thrived when the sun went down. (His heart hurt when he realized just how easy it was to recall such simple details like that. How, even after all these years, he still knew you like the back of his hand.) 

There was a strong urge to keep running. To jog right past your shop and pretend that he never saw it. That he was never tempted to see you again, no matter how much his heart earned to just hear you one last time. It would be easier that way. Jamie had no idea what you felt towards him. If the anger still simmered from that fight. If your heart still earned for him, too. If you didn’t feel anything towards him at all—not love, not hatred, not anything. But there was a stronger urge to push open that shop, if only to get a glimpse of your face. He didn’t have to say anything. He could pretend he was at the wrong place, turn and run before you could even realize who was there. (He couldn’t do that, though. If he was going to commit, he had to commit. There was no backing out. If he was going to see you, he was going to see you.) 

Holding his breath, Jamie pushed open the door, a little bell jingling as it swung. 

There was no turning back now. 

“We’re about to close!” you shouted from somewhere in the back of the shop. “So unless you know exactly what you’re looking for and where to find it, go ahead and head on out!”

Jamie followed the sound of your voice, finding you in the back corner of the shop. It was a cute little knitting corner, with loads of yarn and needles and books of patterns. There was a long table, with a bunch of seats around it. Did people come here to knit? That was kind of cute. Jamie wondered, briefly, if you knew how to knit, and if maybe you could teach him. He’d like to have something to do with his hands when he had moments to relax. 

And you…God, you looked even more beautiful than the last time he saw you. How was that even possible? 

You weren’t even trying to look beautiful. Your hair was tied up, out of your face. Some strands had fallen loose. On anyone else, it might have made them look disheveled. But on you? It made you look like a goddess. You wore a large white sweater (had you made it in this little knitting corner?) and a long patterned skirt. From the bottom of your skirt, he could see a pair of socks peeking out. They looked like those sort of socks that had famous paintings printed on them. Jamie didn’t really know the names of any famous paintings, so he wasn’t entirely sure what it was. To top it all off, you wore the same chunky white trainers you’d worn the last time he ever saw you. Adorable, and practical—a perfect description of everything he knew you to be. 

“Thought you were gonna be a doctor somethin’,” Jamie said, tearing his eyes away from you and at the rows and rows of shelves. The shelves had little chalkboard signs above them with the genre written on them. They had a little bit of artwork corresponding to the genre, too. A bloody knife and the scream mask for horror, some hearts and flowers for romance, what looked to be an impressive portrait of Gandalf for fantasy. Did you draw them? He didn’t remember you being very artistic, and he thought he knew everything there was to know about you. Maybe he didn’t know much of you at all anymore. 

When you turned, there was shock clearly written all over your face. Your brows were raised, your mouth dropped open. You looked at him almost like you’d seen a ghost. Like, of all the people that could’ve shown up in your shop, he was the very last person you’d ever think to see. Maybe that was his fault. 

But then you smiled at him. He liked your smile. It wasn’t like the strange, uncanny smiles of the models he surrounded himself with—all perfectly straight, so white it could blind him. No, your teeth were natural, and perfect. “It didn’t make me happy like I thought it would.”

“Ah.” He didn’t really understand that. Was the point of a career to be happy? Wasn’t it just to make loads of money? To get your parents off your back? 

“And are you? Happy, I mean? Playing football.”

Jamie paused. That was an odd question. “I’m a top scorer at Richmond. At the last game, I—”

You held up your hand, signaling for him to stop talking. His mouth shut, and you said, “Jamie, I didn’t ask for your stats. If I wanted to know those, I could look them up myself. I asked if you were happy.”

Jamie paused again. He wasn’t quite sure the answer to that question. The only other person who ever really cared about that was his mum, and she’d been too excited to see him to ask that question yet. Was he happy? What did being happy really mean? “I don’t know.”

You frowned. Oh, he hated that. You frowning, he means, but also that look you were giving him. How your brows were pinched together, how you stared at him like you could see straight into his soul. You probably could. You’d always been smart like that. If there was anyone who could figure out a way to see into the thoughts, feelings, character of people…Well, it would have to be you. Or maybe his mum. But definitely you. 

“Oh, Jamie.”

And there it was. Perhaps the reason he found himself standing in your little shop just as it was closing. Perhaps the reason he couldn’t get you out of his head. Perhaps the reason that, even after all these years, all he could think about was how badly he fucked this. 

You stepped toward him, wrapping your arms around him. You pulled his face down into the crook of your neck. If you were anyone else, he might have wrenched away, told you to fuck off. But it was you, and he liked the way you smelled of roses, vanilla, and freshly brewed coffee. So he let himself wrap his arms around your waist, to take the moment to inhale your scent as he stood in your embrace. 

Being that close to you…He couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to your neck, pressing another when he heard you gasp. You were always so sensitive, so easy to rile up. A bit of pride swelled in his chest, knowing that he had all the right buttons to press memorized. He kissed up your neck, down your jaw, pausing just as his lips were about to meet yours.

“Stop me,” he whispered. He didn’t want you to, not really. But he wanted you to know you had a way out. That you were in control. 

Instead, you kissed him. A small moan escaped your lips. Fuck, he always loved the little noises you would make for him. He used to make a game of it, to see how quickly he could make you cry and whimper and whine for him. 

His hands fell to your waist, gripping it tight as he lifted you up onto the table. Your legs wrapped around his hips and tugged him closer. He grew hard, just from being this close to you. Fuck, he had really missed you. Missed this. What had he been thinking all those years ago to let you go? 

“Fuck me, Jamie, please,” you whined, reaching down, fiddling with his zipper. 

“Don’t got a condom—” he started to say when he remembered that he’d left his wallet at home. (How could he not have a condom?) As much as he wanted this, he didn’t want to take any risks. At least, not without you being okay with it.

“Don’t care. ‘m on the pill.”

“You sure?”

“Quit talking and fuck me, please,” you grumbled, nipping at his lips.

Jamie let out a chuckle, helping you free his cock from his pants. He pushed your skirt up, pulled your panties to the side to see if you were ready for him. A smirk settled on his face as he felt how wet you were. “Desperate for me, huh?” he teased, pressing kisses down your jaw. 

“Can you blame me?”

“Not one bit.”

He pushed his cock past your slick folds, groaning at the feeling. God, he’d forgotten how tight your pussy was. How you clenched around him with every thrust, how you sucked him back in, determined to take every last inch. 

“You're fucking perfect, love,” he said, panting with each thrust. “Dunno why I left you. Shoulda stayed. Shoulda been content with you.”

Your brows pinched together—whether from the pleasure or from his confession, he wasn’t too sure. Your mouth opened, ready to say something, but his cock hit that spongy spot deep in your cunt and a moan escaped instead. Your arms wrapped around him, your nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt. “Y-You don’t mean that,” you gasped, your eyes squeezed shut. 

“I do. I do—” Jamie pulled you closer, his thrusts growing shallower. He reached between your legs, thumb settling on your clit, rubbing his fast circles, helping you reach your high with him. “You mean everything to me. Always fucking have.”

“JamJam—” you said, your voice growing louder as he hit that sensitive spot again, and again, and again. His heart stuttered at the nickname. He thought he would never hear it again, never hear you call him that again. Whatever you were going to say next was lost in a moan so loud you nearly screamed, cumming around him, squeezing the life out of his cock.

Jamie came not long after, his head falling to the crook of your neck, a groan escaping his lips. He pressed a kiss to your neck, staying like that for just a moment, trying to commit it to memory. “I mean it. Shoulda stayed.”

You pressed against his shoulder. He pulled away with a frown. You offered a small smile. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better. This was enough.”

He took a moment to tuck his softening cock away to try and collect his thoughts. How could you not understand that he was being genuine? Did you really think he was the sort of guy who’d say things he didn’t mean just to have sex with you? (Though, to be fair, he was that sort of guy. But not with you, never with you. You were the only person who could ever get the genuine side of him.) 

“I want to stay with you forever. To throw it all away.”

You stayed silent, sensing that this mind was working too fast for him to figure out how to say all the things he wanted to say. So, you let him stand there and process. You were always so good about that. Would always give him the room to figure things out instead of making him feel like an idiot for not knowing to talk about the hard things. 

Jamie’s hands came to rest on your hips as you stayed there in the silence. He rubbed small circles on the bit of exposed skin that appeared when your sweater became untucked from your skirt in all the madness. He liked this. He liked soft moments with you. When he was younger, he used to swear he would bottle them all up and keep them forever. He liked it then, and he liked it now. But, as he stood there with you, it all began to weight down on him. This scared him. This kind of commitment he was willing to give you…It could never work out. 

“But I can’t stay,” he whispered.

You reached up, caressing his face, running your fingers through his hair. He let himself shut his eyes, to enjoy the moment. He knew it wouldn’t last. “I know.”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. You stilled, your fingers no longer scratching at his scalp. “It’s too hard to leave now.”

“Oh, Jamie—”

“But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Couldn’t get you outta my fucking head. Didn’t even mean to show up here, but it’s like my feet were working all on their own. Like they had their own brain or somethin’, I don’t know.”

You scratched at his scalp again, dragging your nails and soothing him. “It’s alright, Jamie. I never thought you were going to stick around. You were always meant for more.”

Jamie sniffled. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck so you couldn’t see his face. He pretended like he didn’t know you could feel the tears trickling out of his eyes. “You’re enough, though. You’re more than enough for me.”

“But you can’t stay,” you finished his thought.

“I’m nothing without football. There isn’t anything else I can do. I’m not brilliant like you,” he mumbled. “I can’t just leave what I’d been working for my entire life and open a book shop because it makes me happy.”

“Football doesn’t make you happy anymore?”

“It does, but you make me happier.” He looked up, letting you see the tears rolling down his cheeks.

You caressed his face, your thumb rubbing the swell of his cheek. A tear smeared across his face as you did so. “JamJam, you’ve always been meant for more. But if that’s not what you want anymore…It’s okay to leave those things behind. It’ll hurt, it’ll suck, but if it means you’ll be happier…It’ll always be worth it.”

Jamie shook his head. No. You didn’t understand. How could you? You didn’t have to deal with his dad. You didn’t have the same expectations, the same level of scrutiny. If the media found out he left football for this life, a simple life, then they’d never let him have a day of peace. They would still follow him around, talk shit about everything he did. And, God, if they found out about you…You didn’t deserve that kind of hatred they’d spew. He couldn’t ruin your peace for his own selfish reasons. 

“You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me, JamJam. Help me understand.”

He pushed himself away, turned his back to you. He couldn’t do this. “I have to leave.”

You followed after him. But when you reached out for him, he jerked away. “JamJam…Jamie, I love you. I have always loved you, but if you runaway right now…I don’t know that I can let you in again.”

Jamie swallowed thickly. He hated this. He hated it so much, but it was what he needed to do. He had to do this, no matter how much his heart and his brain screamed at him otherwise. “That’s probably for the best.”

When you didn’t say anymore, he started to walk away. With every step he took, it felt like he was leaving a part of himself behind. He fought every instinct to look back at you, to come running into your arms, to tell you he was an idiot and he could never leave you again. 

“Jamie?” you called out. He paused in his step, but didn’t turn. “Is this because you think being with someone like me will hurt your career?”

The tears started to well up in his eyes again. He was grateful you couldn’t see his face, that you couldn’t tell how much this was hurting him. He didn’t want to taint this moment anymore than he already was. “That was never true. You…you were always more amazing than I ever deserved. You should be with someone better than me.”

You were silent for a beat, then two. For a second, he wondered if you even heard him. Should he repeat himself? Or would that just make things worse? Finally, you said, “Goodbye, Jamie.”

“Goodbye, love.”

He left the shop without turning back. But, as he crossed the street, he turned. Watched as the lights in the shop slowly turned off. As you came out, locking the door behind you. He almost ducked behind a lamppost, not wanting you to realize he was still hanging around. But he didn’t, letting you see him as you turned around. You offered him a sad smile and a wave before turning and walking away. Away from him, from his life, forever. 

Jamie opened his mouth, ready to call out to you. But he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. You deserved better than a man who always so hot and cold with you. So, he turned, too, and began to jog back home. Maybe if he was lucky, Simon would still have some of those peanut butter cookies leftover. That could be good for him. 

Yeah, that could be good. 

[burnthoneydrops]

Like I Always Do (s.o. x fem!reader)

pairing: sam obisanya x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: language (it's ted lasso), use of 'my girl'

a/n: ahh! first time writing for my favourite boy!! i hope y'all like this and don't mind the fact that i clearly know nothing about football, i'm trying my best!!

“Come on Sam!” You call from your place in the owner’s box, Keeley gripping your hand that wasn’t acting as a megaphone. There’s a few minutes left on the clock and both teams have yet to score a goal. The boys are weaving through each other on the pitch, trying desperately to dodge between the opposing players. It’s just started raining and you mutter a curse to the universe under your breath for England’s reliably shitty weather.

“Oh for God’s sake, we just need one goal!” Rebecca sighs from beside Keeley, readjusting the Richmond beanie that held down her hair. Zoreaux throws the ball from his spot on one end, and Sam’s quick to claim it, bouncing it off his knee before kicking it over to Danny. You’d be lying if you said you knew much about football, but from what you do know, this setup looks pretty damn good. 

“Let’s go Richmond!” Higgins calls from behind you, and you can’t help but smile as this is the most high energy and carefree you’d ever seen this man. 

“Babes, you’re gonna squeeze my hand off,” Keeley comments to you as you had turned your focus back to the game, quickly becoming very concerned with the state of it. 

“Oh sorry,” you apologise, loosening your grip with the intention of letting go entirely, but Keeley weaves her fingers through yours, keeping your hand exactly where it is. 

In quite an elegant move from Danny, he twists his body and kicks his leg over the other, shooting the ball straight to the goal. While you could hear the Richmond fans all collectively take a quick breath, it seems too good to be true. Your fears are unfortunately proven accurate as the opposing goalkeeper sweeps the ball away from the netted end, pushing it back onto the pitch with his gloved hands. The crowd splits into a round of sighs and cheers as they either celebrate or mourn the moment for their team. 

“Fucking shit,” Rebecca curses, fidgeting with the bracelet adorning her left wrist. Isaac makes a call, shouting a combination of words that only makes sense to them and they get in a new formation. Jamie runs to basically lean against the opposing team’s players, no doubt muttering something to get in their heads as the boys get ready behind him. They’re soon off again and you’re eyeing Sam the entire time. He’d been so in his head before this that you knew he was stressing like crazy right now. The game is tense and you know he’s trying his hardest, but that self doubt does unfortunate wonders on someone’s self esteem. 

“You’ve got it Sam!” You cheer again, and this time he hears you, looking up at the owner’s box, giving you a warm but small smile and a thumbs up. 

“You’re not biassed at all, are you?” Keeley teases as she looks between you and Sam. 

“And what if I am? You’re the same way for Mister ‘he’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where’ Roy Kent,” You shrug with a squeeze to her hand. 

“Never said it was a bad thing babe,” Keeley replies, shaking her head. 

The crowd starts cheering in unison as the ball gets passed back and forth across the pitch. It gets passed to Sam and the goal is somehow left wide open. This seems almost too miraculous, but you try not to doubt and instead focus on the magic that might be about to happen. Sam claims the ball once again and keeps running forward with it, dribbling it past the opposing players. The stadium waits with bated breath and the tension in the crowd could be cut with a knife. With the looming clock ticking down its last seconds, Sam kicks the ball straight toward the goal, swiftly pushing it past the goalkeeper, making the score 1-1. The timer buzzes loudly, signifying the end of the game, and Richmond has done it. They end with the tie they needed and the fans go wild. 

“With a clean goal from Obisanya, the game ends with a tie!” The announcer repeats into his microphone, as the team runs to hug each other. You and Keeley stand up, exploding with joy as you hug each other tightly, Rebecca turning to hug Higgins from behind her. The fans start to storm the pitch, and everyone is quick to exit the owner’s box, wanting to join in on all the fun. Rain be damned, nothing is going to stop you from celebrating. You search the sea of people for your boyfriend, who pushes Jamie off his back when he sees you. 

“Go get your girl mate,” Jamie smiles, patting Sam lovingly on the back before turning to Isaac and celebrating with him. 

“Y/N!” Sam calls, waving his arms to get your attention. Your smile grows as you spot him, running at full speed, though trying not to slip on the damp grass. His arms open as he meets you halfway, catching you as you hurdle into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. He picks you up lightly, both of you laughing, and spins you around before putting you back down.

“That was fucking amazing!” You praise. “Oh my God, the tension in the crowd was insane but you absolutely fucking killed it!” You tighten your grip on your boyfriend, unable to keep the smile off your face. 

“Hearing you cheer really helped,” he comments as you pull back slightly to look at him. 

“Yeah, might have been a bit aggressive up there. Almost took Keeley’s hand off with how hard I was squeezing”. 

Sam laughs, lightly grabbing the sides of your face and pulling you in for a kiss. The cheers of the fans still on the pitch fade away to background noise as you immediately kiss back, putting all the remaining adrenaline into it. You’re so proud of him and you want him to know it every chance you get. When you two pull away, Sam grabs your hand, twirling you around before settling you back to face him. 

“What was that for?” You ask, a confused look in your eyes. 

“Just wanted to get a good look at you in my number”. It had become custom for you to wear a shirt with Sam’s famous ‘24’ on the back and he loves it every time. 

“My one and only,” you reply, “now come on, this rain is starting to soak through my shoes”. You pull the two of you closer to the exit, but you don’t get too far before Sam’s picking you up and carrying you bridal style across the rest of the pitch. “Sam! Put me down!” You slap his arm lightly before gripping his neck, not wanting to fall. 

“Do not worry, I’ve got you. Like I always do”.

[ships-inthe-sea]

I wanna read a Roy x Jaime fic that shows Roy in his happy relationship state of always being there all of the time giving his attention always and Jaime in his happy relationship state of always needing company and love and affection and reassurance. I want them to be with each other day in and day out constantly. I want multiple people to ask them if they’re sick of each other yet and for them to look confused every time. They sleep together, wake up together, shower together, get ready together, eat together, drive together, work together, go home and spend their evenings together. Even when they go out with the team or with friends they are always together and 80% of the time they are together they are touching or smiling or talking. Just being affectionate towards each other. While everyone, even Keeley, is just shaking their heads saying this isn’t normal. They don’t care because they are just built to be next to their loved one all the time. Now… they do have moments of separation. They aren’t actually connected all of the time and what they have works for them. That’s why they are so confused by people saying they spend too much time together. They don’t think they do. They have their me time, their alone time. It’s just, on average, less than what some people think is normal. They do what works for them. They’ve talked about it. They’re fine with it. I want it long and fluffy and cute and sappy and all full of all the other “exciting” things. If it happened after season 3 and went from being friends to their realization of feelings to their getting together, them keeping it hush, them telling the team, to end the story on a happy and hopeful note sometime down the road after the long sappy time together that would be great. Could I write it? Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? I’d know all the twists and secrets.

[indigo-graves]

|After| A Roy Kent One-Shot

Summary: Follow-up to "Soft." Roy Kent shows up on Alex's doorstep with a whole lot to say. What happens once she lets him in to discuss his feelings further?

Word Count: 2,536

Status: Complete

Pairing: Roy Kent/OC

Warnings: SMUT! Roy’s filthy mouth.

a03

ff.net

wattpad

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sentence Sunday

Trying something, but I'm not sure if it's going to work or if it'll end up in the final story, but here it is.

Somedays, he didn’t know how to feel like a real person. Somedays, he never left that basement in Kansas. Part of Ted died that day with his father, leaving him doing his best Pinocchio impression of trying to act like a real boy.  Somedays, it worked. Somedays, Ted ended up turning into a donkey. So, to help, he developed mantras.  Be curious, not judgemental.  Forgive people.  Don’t give up.  Never let people question how you feel about them.  Somewhere along there he forgot how to just be Ted. Somewhere along there he forgot to meet people where they were. Somewhere along there he forgot all people are different people. Somewhere along there he forgot that Jamie needed something different than the other fellas. Somewhere along there, he forgot he was supposed to be a coach and not just an extra in the Zava show. Somewhere along there, he failed at all of it.

[caslutz]

Six Sentence Sunday

Roy is unsure if Jamie ever really was his to begin with, but he can still remember fleeting moments where he thought maybe— just maybe he and Jamie had something.

It was in the way Jamie looked in the morning, sleeping so peacefully and looking so gorgeous as the rays of the early morning sun painted his tanned skin, his fluffy brown hair mussed from the pillow, and the smile on his lips when he would wake up and see Roy.

It was in the way Jamie would light up when he scored a goal, his smile maybe even brighter than the sun. When Jamie was on the pitch it was where he was just meant to be.

It was even in the way that Jamie cared and the way he would take care of him. He just knew how to fix it when that’s what Roy needed, but also knew exactly what made him tick, and how to make him just— feel.

[riversfire]

If I get pregnant this month I’m gonna tell my baby their father is Jamie Tartt

[cuillere]

Aw <3 this is so sweet <3

I Feel You - Jamie Tartt x demi!Reader

A/N: Hello to my faithful followers! I'm sorry I've been so inactive for the past couple weeks I've been down in the dumps and sorta uninspired.

But the crazy thing is I've hit 1k followers! What? How is that even possible! I'm planning to put together a little celebration soon but for now, here's an unrequested fic that I wrote featuring a demi!reader on the acespec!

See y'all soon!

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns), Drunkenness, I think that's it

OooO

Jamie had to be the lamest footballer in the world. It was a Friday night and instead of going out and finding a club to get drunk at, he was sitting on his couch reading a bloody book. Fucking Roy Kent had gotten to him, that bastard. He wasn’t expecting anyone to come by so when there was a knock on the door, Jamie was surprised. 

There on his doorstep was (Y/N). Pacing, wobbly, back and forth seemingly trying to take off her shoes without sitting down. 

“(Y/N)?” He opened the door, turning on the porch light. 

(Y/N) was someone Jamie had been friends with for a long time. Longer than anyone else, maybe. She’d grown up with im in Manchester, and gone to college in London when he got called up. When he was busy being a prick and cutting people out of his life, she stayed, refusing to be cut. And here she was, drunk on his doorstep. 

She spun in spot, her eyes lighting up when she saw him. “Jamie!”

She fell forward onto him in a sloppy hug. Jamie caught her in his arms, realizing with a chuckle that she was beyond wasted. He hoisted her up so she was tucked into his side so he could properly assist her while closing the door and turning off the lights. 

“Jamieee,” She sang, sweetly, pulling Jamie with all her might to get them to topple over.

“At least one of us had a good night,” Jamie muttered. 

“It was ‘meh’,” (Y/N) admitted, shrugging. ��Felt all wonky all night.”

Jamie pulled her into his bathroom, sitting her down on the toilet seat. She slumped back, as it finally feeling her exhaustion. He filled up his water cup and handed it to her, having to help her put her hand on and grip the cup.

“Drink,” he instructed. 

“It’s like, I’m over here, looking and waiting,” she continued, pausing for a second to glug down a large sip of water. “And everyone else is over there. Falling in love, dating, kissing, and I’m just,” she made a raspberry with her mouth.

Jamie found a cloth and the bottle of makeup remover she’d left at his house one time, dabbing some of the serum on the cloth. He walked back over to her, kneeling so he could be at eye height with her. 

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, starting to dab at her face like she’d taught him. 

“Why can’t I feel that, Jamie?” She whined, leaning into his touch. “Why can't I just find a dude and just kiss him? What’s wrong with me?”

Jamie frowned, pausing his dabbing for a moment. “What do you mean, darling?”

“I just mean,” now she was frowning too. “I try to go on dates, hook up with random guys, and I just feel… nothing.” Jamie, pursed his lips, moving the cloth gently over her face. Her eyes fluttered closed as he swished over her eyelids delicately. “But I’m so tired of waiting… I don’t want to settle anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have to settle,” Jamie agreed softly. 

“But I also don’t want to be alone forever,” she opened her eyes and Jamie stopped washing her face. 

“You won’t be alone forever,” he droned. This was a conversation they’d had before. She was afraid she’d never find the one, and Jamie reassured her that she would. Of course, she would. She was beautiful, and funny, and headstrong in all the important ways.

“I’ve only ever liked one person, in my whole entire life,” she hiccuped. “And he…” 

“He what, love?” Jamie went to stand but she grabbed onto his pants, stopping him from moving away. He looked down and she looked very small. He’d never seen her look so small before. 

“He’s been my best friend since we were kids,” she muttered, looking up at him. “When I look at him, I feel this flutter in my chest. And no matter how hard I try to feel that with other people, I just can’t.” She looked between his eyes. “I can’t.” 

Jamie could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? She couldn’t be. Either way, she needed to go to bed. 

“You… uh… you can stay here tonight, yeah?” He took the cup from her hand and filled it back up. “I’ll go put out some sleep clothes in the guest bed.” 

She looked disappointed when he didn’t acknowledge her rambling, but she nodded, taking a pitiful sip from her cup of water. He watched her a moment before pounding on the sink and walking out to grab a shirt for her. 

As he set up the bed for her, his mind was racing through what she had said. The best friend from childhood that she’d liked forever. It couldn’t be him… could it? Not after everything he’d put her through. 

When he walked back to the bathroom, she’d fallen asleep on the toilet. Chest rising and falling steadily, her eyelashes resting against her cheeks. His chest fluttered as he looked at her, a gentle smile coming over his lips. He slid one arm under her legs and another around her back, resting her head on his shoulder. She curled into him immediately, nestling her nose into his neck. 

He brought her to the room, he’d set up maneuvering her carefully so he could take her clothes off. She’d changed in front of him before, felt comfortable around him, but he still was careful of his hands and quickly putting on more comfortable clothes.

She mumbled incoherently as he laid her down and pulled the covers over her. His hand rested on her cheek for a moment, her face slightly flushed from her night out. He was tempted to get in the bed with her, keep her safe and warm in his arms but he swatted that thought away quickly. Instead he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple.

The next morning when he woke up, he went to check on her, but she wasn’t in the room. Then he heard humming and the smell of bacon filling the air. He padded down the steps and saw her in the kitchen, cooking and sipping on his coffee like she owned the place. He shoved his tongue in his cheek to stop himself from laughing as he watched her. 

She spun around, dancing to the song in her head, yelping and freezing when she saw him. 

“Oh!” She sighed, throwing her hand over her heart when she realized it was him. “Jamie! You scared me.” 

“Scare you? This is my house, you know,” Jamie laughed, leaning across the island. 

She rolled her eyes, sliding a cup of coffee across to him. “Two creams, one sugar, yeah?”

Jamie looked down at the coffee, knowing Roy would kill him if he took a sip. ‘Your body is a temple’ and ‘caffeine is a drug’ and whatever, but she was looking at him so sweetly there was no way he could say no to it. So, he reached down and took a sip. 

“That’s it, yah,” it tasted perfect. No one else made his coffee like she did. “Do you know how you ended up here?”

She slowed her cooking for a second. He couldn’t see her face, she was turned facing the wall, but he saw her back tense just the slightest bit. 

“Uh… I don’t remember, really,” (Y/N) answered. “Just woke up here… figured it was just where I thought I’d be safest.” 

Jamie felt his cheeks heat up, trying to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee. “You, eh, were out with the girls?” 

She turned around, sliding the bacon onto the two plates she’d set out. She was deep in thought, he could tell by the way she picked the skin off her lip, reaching up to pull a piece of hair out of her face. 

“Yeah…” she whispered. “It was Larsen’s birthday. Wanted to go have a hot girl night. Find some guys to go home with.”

Ah. Now he got it. She’s gone out with her friends and they’d all gone home with guys and she was left alone. She was upset because she thought she was unwanted. He grimaced at her. 

“Did Larsen ditch you again? I told you to stop hanging out with her,” Jamie comforted, reaching to grab a piece of bacon. (Y/N) didn’t answer, she just stared down at the greasy meat on her plate. “Oh, c’mon, (Y/N), you can’t really believe that because of one bad night that no one wants you.” 

She furrowed her brow, shaking her head. “No that’s….” She looked up at him, looking back and forth between his eyes. “Do you really think that I couldn’t find one person to go home with?”

Now Jamie was confused. He pursed his lips, not sure how to answer. 

“He was great. Attractive enough, I suppose, saying all the right things,” she mumbled, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “We chatted for a while. But I just felt… nothing.” Her fist open and closed as she fought the nervous energy. “He was kissing me, holding me, doing all the things that should have made me feel… something. But it was like… I felt nothing! It was like there was something blocking my brain from just latching onto something random.”

“He was… kissing you?” Jamie cringed as he said it. He wasn’t sure exactly why he’d said it and she looked at him like she was crazy. 

“Yes, he was,” she scoffed, running a hand through her hair. “He wanted to do a lot more but I couldn’t feel it. I didn’t feel anything.” She rested her elbows on the counter, her head in her hands. “God, what is wrong with me? Every other person we went out with went home with whatever stranger they’d met that night. But me? I feel so… stunted.” 

Jamie was surprised by her sudden admission. It wasn’t something he’d felt before, but he wanted her to feel the things he felt for her. The care and softness that he felt for her. 

“I know I want it,’ she continued. “I feel it sometimes… for… one person. He knows me and I know him. And I try to get myself to get over it, to feel it for someone else. Anyone else, but no matter how hard I try. I just… can’t feel it.” She shook her head, pushing herself off the island. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from.” 

Jamie stayed still for a moment, figuring out his thoughts. 

“S’okay,” he finally responded. “I’m sorry you feel like that, you deserve to feel loved and wanted.”

Her eyes snapped back up to his, her cheeks turning red, spreading up to her ears. Jamie moved around to the other side of the island so he was right next to her, leaning against her side. She kept staring straight forward, her eyes turning shiny with unshed tears. 

“You said… there was one person,” he implored, pursing his lips into a duck shape. “One person who you felt something for.” 

She nodded, not speaking, brushing her eyes furiously. 

“Who… who is that person,” he asked. 

She let out a shaky laugh, cocking her head before looking up at him. 

“I think you know,” she replied quietly, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. He looked at her, letting his hand slide down to intertwine with hers. Her breathing hitched and her chest started to heave. “Jamie, wait, please.” She stared at their entwined hands, scared that it was going to go away. “I can’t… I’m not like other girls. I can’t give you what you want, not right away, maybe not for a long time.” 

Jamie shook his head, moving his free hand up to touch her face. “I don’t want that, all I want is to make you feel loved. All I want is for you to feel how you deserve to feel. And I’m willing to wait however long it takes, and to do whatever it takes to make sure that you feel that love.”

“Oh, Jamie,” she gasped out, reaching up to touch his face too. They stood in the kitchen, the soft morning light dappling in through the windows, holding each other's faces. He looked between her lips and her eyes. “Jamie?”

“Yeah?”

“You can kiss me.”

His eyes were big and wanting as he looked at her. “Are you sure? Like really sure, like you aren’t just saying it to make me happy?” 

“No, Jamie, I want it.”

The words scarcely left her mouth when he cut her off, pressing his lips to hers. And there it was. She felt it. She felt that electricity that her friends had talked about. It rocked through her, stealing her breath away as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, his coming to creep up her back, lifting her up slightly. 

“Can you feel that, love?” he hummed, in between kisses. “Can you feel how much I love you?” 

“I can feel it,” she responded, pulling back to look up at him. “I can feel you.” 

[vansmaybeonthewall]

reputation // are you ready for it?

prologue summary: The one where you, a somewhat well-known singer, figure out exactly how to leave your boyfriend who so happens to work as an assistant coach at West Ham.

Eventual Jamie Tartt x Reader

i was inspired to make a series by @buckychristwrites and @illiterateaffairs, who made the beautiful series' 'About You' and 'Distractions' respectively, so let's give this a go

word count: 0.7k

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

"Folklore and Evermore are fantastic for someone like (L/N), but is it enough to top the charts?"

"While (L/N)’s storytelling and emotion come through, does she have the audience for such a piece?”

“Previous attempts at topping the charts proved difficult, country or pop, what can (L/N) do next to be number one?”

“Fans approve of the narrative, but do the numbers?”

“It’s definitely a reach releasing two albums within a year of each other. I mean how desperate can you be?

“After experimenting with an album sampling multiple genres at eighteen, is this what (L/N) is finally good at?”

~

It’s exhausting. Everything. Trying to prove yourself while also trying not to seem full of yourself. How can someone just rise to the top of the charts? How can you be good enough? Every day there were articles calling you names and how much of a failure you are and could be. The bad always outweighed the good things people had to say. How can you make someone see who you are and what you are trying to do? It’s impossible to conform to every single version of yourself that people want you to be. It doesn’t help when your boyfriend has already achieved his dream. Helping coach his favorite team. A bittersweet thing to see. His compliments that can seem backhanded at teams. You’ll get there sometime babe. Don’t worry, you’re number one to me. Humiliating coming from someone so fake and narcissistic. Oh yes, the boyfriend you have put your life on pause for, albeit being together for two years, has been cheating on you for the past 3 months. Utterly humiliating.

It only gets worse considering he took over the job of managing you and where you play as an artist. It gave him some sort of promotion of rank amongst the other coaches. Nobody really recognized you at the football events he “booked” for you. Why would these older men listen to songs about a fictional love triangle? The only ones who recognized you were the bored teenage daughters dragged along to such events.

And asking for help is out of the question. Your best friend was only so far from you, playing for A.F.C  Richmond. Phone calls and texts could be made any second of the day and you would be swooped away, but you chose not to. Colin has a busy life as you do, so it wouldn’t be right to call him about every single problem you were having, right? You were both doing what you’ve wanted to do since you were kids (one enjoying it more than the other), so why should you disrupt his life with yours?

But when you wake up the next morning with the opportunity of a lifetime, it seems like life has taken a turn for the better. 

“Babe! Babe!”

You turn towards the doorway of your writing room resting your hands in your lap from their place on the piano. Derek leans against the doorway, trying to catch his breath.

“They want you to play! At the stadium!”

What.

“What are you on about?”

“Rupert wanted to one-up that ex-wife of his and Jasmine gave the idea of getting someone popular amongst fans to perform at halftime in a game against Richmond! Fantastic isn’t it! You’ve got to thank Jasmine for this, god that woman is amazing.”

Derek disappears down the hallway still shouting at the news. You sit wide-eyed and frozen. Not only at the news, performing in front of hundreds of fans at what possibly is one of the biggest games is a huge opportunity and you should be happy about it. Well, you are, but the name that left your boyfriend’s mouth gave it a sour taste. Jasmine. The woman he kisses and loves behind your back. And the one who gave you a chance at the spotlight in two months' time. Popular amongst fans? Was she being serious or being sarcastic? Nonetheless, what the hell.

An amazing woman, you think.

You stand and make your way to the nook in the window. You stare down at the people who walk past before grabbing at the journal and sitting yourself down. Opening the journal to the page marked by a pen holding its place, you start writing down your next idea. 

reputation 

You drag the pen quickly on the page leaving a straight line underneath the word, a smirk making its way to your face.

[lokiiied]

being a city and ted lasso fan is wild cuz i’ve got my fictional bf jamie tartt who used to play for man city and has pretty, floppy, hair contained by a little gay headband, charismatic, best player…and then i get to watch my irl jamie tartt football bf jack grealish playing alongside irl norwegian version jan maas, erling haaland and what a fun lil multiverse we live in

[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]

[swiftiefirefighters]

the ted lasso finale wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t what you wanted it to be.

(this goes for jamie fans who are mad his dad didn’t die in some awful fire or something also - the fact of the matter is that bad people and abusive parents can also change and while i would never forgive the emotionally abusive and manipulative ex partner i had, i can admit change is possible and maybe they have - no one is telling you that YOU have to forgive anyone but people aren’t one thing and james tartt can do better just like anyone else and it’s jamie’s (fictional, let’s not forget) decision how to deal with that situation and it isn’t surprising that ted lasso - a show about personal responsibility, choice, and forgiveness - chose to handle that situation the way that they did.)

[indigo-graves]

Soft || Roy Kent

Summary: AFC Richmond's captain Roy Kent is rigid and resistant to new management. New owner Rebecca Welton is willing to do whatever it takes to ruin the club her husband held so dear. New coach, Ted Lasso, is the American hired to lead the team to destruction. Alexandra Banks, the team's new physiotherapist, may just throw a wrench in everyone's plans.

Word Count: 7,192

Chapters: 4/12

Rating: M for Roy’s filthy mouth

Ao3 link

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

@lunar-years has inspired an idea for some Jamie whump that I think I have an interesting twist for that I haven’t seen before but I want to crowd source something first.

[caslutz]

tw: james tartt sr. (slight mention of abuse)

i know this isn’t an unpopular opinion or anything but i need to talk about it because it makes me so upset but like…

JAMIE WOULD NOT FORGIVE HIS DAD THAT EASILY LIKE WHAT?!!

guys that scene in the end of season three where he’s in the rehab center would just not happen. first of all, james would never get sober unless he had to (so he’s probably mandated by the court to be in rehab) and even then he would not stay sober. he just wouldn’t.

and yeah, i think jamie would be glad that his dad was in rehab, because even if he hates the piece of crap he’s still going to have that hope that he can get better, but he would not be going to visit him and smiling and laughing with him like that. i will say that jamie might go visit him, but the healing process would be a long one for jamie and he was not immediately feel comfortable around him like that.

just because his father is in rehab getting better and he probably apologized does not mean that it makes up for a life time of abuse. let’s not forget all the damage that james has done to jamie not even in the series but as a child (specifically amsterdam) and probably much more not even mentioned. I feel like this scene pretty much excused all of his abuse and it’s icky.

shoutout to all the fan fictions i’ve read that don’t keep james sober!! (and further using it as a plot device for angst)

[scintillatingshortgirl19]

I want to clarify something re: my issues with the James Tartt storyline.

I've been seeing a lot of posts and comments talking about how everyone deserves a shot at redemption and that that should not mean "everyone but James and Rupert" - and I want to say I think those posts are absolutely correct. As a lifelong villain fan I actually have massive, massive issues with the concept of any fictional character being considered by fandom to be truly "irredeemable" (especially since that line seems to be different for every single person), and I often hate the ideas fandoms tend to pass around about what fictional characters do or do not "deserve," so I want to make it clear that my issues with James' implied redemption have absolutely nothing to do with whether or not I think he deserves it. I strongly believe addiction is a disease and that everyone - even abusive, terrible people - should get the chance to change. This is especially true of fictional characters, since exploring concepts of second chances and redemptions within a story doesn't pose any risks to real-life people.

That said, these are the reasons why I think this whole thing was absolutely terrible from a storytelling perspective.

There are stories that are served well by canon leaving some things offscreen and letting the viewer fill in the blanks, but I don't think that's remotely the case here. To do this story justice, they needed to give it time. They needed to give it at least a modicum of buildup. They needed to show us this journey, rather than just telling us about it in a brief, sunlight-doused clip and saying "be happy about this, damn it!" Seeing them happy and smiling together is an enormous leap that should've taken much longer to get to than the show implies, and as a result it feels extremely jarring. Jamie reconnecting with his dad is an incredibly messy and complex storyline that needed to develop over time, and it was a huge mistake to just gloss over it like the writers did.

Show me James hitting rock bottom and how he ended up in rehab. Show me Jamie's conflicted feelings about reconnecting with him. Show me Jamie coming to an understanding that not reconnecting with his dad is also a perfectly valid option, and that letting go of his fear of and anger at James is not dependent on Jamie giving James any more of his time or energy. Show me Jamie being fully, actively aware that no matter what he chooses, letting James back into his life is not necessary for Jamie to move forward and grow as a person. Show me Jamie putting up boundaries to protect himself throughout this process - physically and emotionally. Show me James getting to know his son as an actual person and not just an object to use for his own selfish ends. Show me the emotional journey of this father, ravaged by addiction and his own unprocessed trauma, learning how to love and take a genuine interest in his son for perhaps the first time ever. Show me Jamie talking to his friends about this and getting their opinions and support. Show me Jamie having sessions with Dr. Sharon so I know he isn't undertaking this journey without therapeutic guidance.

You could make the argument that all of the above is implied, and you'd probably be right. But at the end of the day, I maintain that this father and son journey needed to be given actual screentime - especially because James' abuse of Jamie was given so much screentime, not to mention the additional bomb that was dropped on us in Sunflowers about what James did to Jamie when he was fourteen (and then was never brought up again, leaving me to assume Jamie still has yet to even realize that that was an instance of sexual assault). James verbally, emotionally, and physically abused Jamie for years, and the story did not shy away from showing us the effects of that. The story of Jamie reconnecting with this man should have been a half-season arc at minimum, and they had no business showing us that without also showing us Jamie processing the trauma they told us about in Sunflowers.

And it's frustrating because the more I think about it, the more I love the idea of a story centered around a son and his abusive father reconnecting and the messiness of that father trying to become a better person and heal from addiction and the complexity of that son trying to reconcile his love for his dad with his need to fully recognize and process what was done to him. I would love an exploration of James' past - maybe his dad took him to a red light district when he was 14, too. Maybe that was all he knew, and he certainly hasn't processed his own trauma, so of course he did the same thing to his own son. Maybe the cycle of abuse goes back generations and generations, and James and Jamie BOTH get to break it, not just Jamie (although that could only be true for James in a fairly limited sense, considering the permanent damage he did to Jamie cannot be undone). Anyway, my point is that it all has the potential to be so, so compelling - but the way they executed it just felt so oversimplified and rushed and cheap, and also sent some really problematic messages.

Tl;dr: I do genuinely think that, given proper time to develop it, there could've been a way to do this story well. This was not it.