#leg is watching ted lasso

[malepresentingleg]

Keeley wearing a shirt that says OBEY on it for this conversation is fucking sending me lsfjsdlfjsdfs

[ronanessy]

life is sad when you currently have no hyperfixation

[wewillbehappyagain]

How am I supposed to fall asleep when I have heart palpitations just thinking about the new episode 😭

[skulandcrossbones]

I know you've already seen it, I just don't know if you watched the whole thing, look, look, look. Alright. So look, after we came in, Nate had to hide under my desk here for, like, three whole hours while we were whooping and hollering and celebrating all around him. Then, once we all split, he thought he was in the clear and BOOM! Cleaning crew shows up. That's another two hours under that desk, yeah. Well, after they leave he crawls out - his legs just gotta be jelly, barely stand up. Look at this, he goes to check the doors but they're all locked! Oh man, that son of a gun had to climb out the window here just to get out of the building.

TED LASSO S03E11: MOM CITY

[wlntrsldler]

f.u.c.k | jamie tartt

based on the song f.u.c.k by victoria monet

description: pure smut. no plot.

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader

warnings: language-- it's ted lasso, what did ya expect?!; PinV! sex! smut! so dirty.

word count: 2.4K

The first time you fucked Jamie Tartt was all lust. You’ve come to learn that there was something absolutely magnetic about him. Like once you’re within his vicinity, you are pulled towards him whether you want to be or not. You tried to fight it at first, unable to get rid of the idea of who he once was from your brain, but it was no use. The more you got to know Jamie, the easier it was to fall for him, to be so intoxicated from him. He consumed your thoughts. All kinds of thoughts.

It was Ted and Beard’s going away party. Rebecca rented out Bones & Honey entirely for the team and their guests. The early part of the night was wholesome. Players gave speeches about how their lives were changed because of the two Americans and wished the coaches a safe flight. There was a three-course Michelin-star menu and an assortment of expensive and classy wines. After the meal, the open bar was introduced. 

Bones & Honey was instantly transformed into a nightclub and it became far from innocent. You found yourself sitting at the bar, sipping on your drink, with Jamie Tartt whispering in your ear, so close to you that you could feel his body heat radiating off of him.

You’d had a few drinks. You were in a good place where you felt careless enough to speak your mind but sober enough to carry on a proper conversation and to know what you want, what you need. The music was so loud that you encouraged Jamie to lean in closer so you could hear him properly. He happily obliged. 

From where he was, your sweet perfume filled his senses. Your skin was a little damp from how hot the club was with all the dancing. Jamie had a hand sprawled across your lower back, not because you needed to be steadied but because he needed to touch you. As he pulled away from your ear, he couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip. Had he extended his neck just a little bit more, his lips would’ve brushed the skin of your neck. 

You placed your drink on the counter, turning the bar chair to face him directly. Your eyes roamed his figure– strong thighs on display with the slacks he wore that hugged his bottom half perfectly, arms so sculpted that you couldn't help but run your fingers over them, and his hands that would look so, so good on you. You couldn’t help but watch the veins of his tattooed arm as he flexed his hand. You let your eyes wander upwards, stopping at his plump lips. You forgot what the conversation was about. 

Jamie’s eyes trailed down your body, having to hold back a groan when he saw you press your thighs together. His hand slowly crept to touch your exposed knee, giving an experimental squeeze before he let his hand move up. He stopped at the hem of your dress, looking up at you once more. You had this look on your face like you were fucked out and he hadn’t even touched you yet, as if the sexual tension between the two of you was enough to get you off. Jamie flared his nostrils, his slacks getting tighter by the second. He leaned toward you again, “If you don’t stop looking at my lips without doin’ anythin’ about it, I will fucking take you right here on this counter in front of everyone.” 

You smirked, placing a hand over his own that was resting on your thigh. You opened your legs a tiny bit, guiding his hand near where you wanted him, but not quite letting him get there. You placed your other hand on the side of his face as you leaned closer, “You couldn’t handle me.” 

For a split second, he was taken aback, eyes blinking while your words sunk in. Then, he smirked, extending his thumb to lightly graze your mound. You sucked in a breath at the contact. Jamie pulled his hand away and hopped off the bar stool, extending his hand for you to take. You adjusted your dress and took him up on his offer. 

Jamie placed a hand on your back, ushering you out of the bar. As you were walking out the door, Jamie pulled your back to his front. You gasped at the sudden contact, feeling him against your leg. He wrapped an arm around your torso, mouth finding the skin behind your ear. He placed a soft kiss on it, so soft you didn’t know if you just imagined it. “You’re gonna regret saying that.” 

When you got to his flat, it was like you were both done with the months of pining, sexual tension, and secret touches. Jamie unlocked the door, pulled you inside, and then his mouth was on yours. He kicked the door closed and had his hands gripping you everywhere like you were going to disappear if he didn’t. You had your fingers tangled in his hair, gently tugging, making him moan into the kiss. Your mouths were reckless and messy, but so fucking hot against each other. 

He was the first to pull away from you, the last shred of logic he had left willed him to because then, he truly didn’t care if he needed to breathe to survive. At that moment, your lips on his own were more important than anything else. Jamie fumbled with the zipper on the back of your dress as he left sloppy kisses down your neck. He inhaled your scent, groaning, unable to stop himself from grinding his hips against yours. You sighed in pleasure, arching your back to press closer to him. 

When he detached from your neck, he looked at you with eyes that nearly had you sinking to your knees without question. His eyes were wide, lust clouding his irises so much that you couldn’t recognize the color they’d become. He was panting, lips raw and red from kissing you. You saw traces of your lipgloss lingering on the side of his mouth, twinkling sinfully under the lights. You ran your thumb across his lips, trying to wipe the remnants of your mouth away from it. Jamie captured it between his lips and sucked on it, his tongue licking a stripe up the pad of your thumb. He placed a soft kiss on it before you pulled it too far from him. 

“What I wouldn’t give to see this look on your face again,” he sighed, beginning to kiss down your body. He placed a kiss on your collarbone, “And again.”

A kiss to your chest as he peeled your dress down, leaving your top half exposed, “And again.” A kiss on your boobs, nipping and biting at the soft flesh. Your skin was on fire. “And again.” 

He continued this down to your stomach. Jamie was on his knees, looking up at you pleadingly. He looked wrecked. He pulled your dress down, running his fingers over your panties as if asking if it was okay. You responded by placing a leg on his shoulder. He shuddered, reaching down his pants to adjust himself. He whimpered at the contact before returning his focus to you. 

He moved your panties to the side, whining at the way your slick looked so inviting for him. Jamie licked up your cunt, moaning into you, enjoying your taste. His cock was leaking pre-cum and it was so fucking painful, but he wasn’t going to let this moment go to waste without tasting you, feeling you. Jamie’s eyes fluttered shut when your fingers found his hair again, tugging him closer to where you needed him the most. 

“Right there, Jamie,” you panted, chest heaving. “So good for me, baby.” 

Jamie didn’t know that he could get more turned on. He was rock hard already, but hearing the pet name roll off your tongue, sounding so fucking spent, with you withering above him, made his cock twitch in his pants. He clumsily undid his zipper, pushing his slacks down to relieve himself from its confines. Jamie brought his hand back up to you. His tattooed arm was pressing down on your stomach, trying to keep you still. His other hand joined his tongue, fingers dipping inside your cunt. 

You mewled at the feeling of his fingers inside you. There were so many things happening. It felt so good. He was knuckles deep, lips wrapped around your bud when you felt that familiar knot in your belly. You pulled on his head, trying to warn him about what was coming. You were trying to give him an out just in case he didn’t want to be there when the dam broke. 

Jamie pulled away, staring at you with his face glistening with your slick. “Give it to me, baby. Want it so bad.” 

When he went back down on you, it didn’t take much to have you screaming. You were blubbering above him, crying out his name as your orgasm turned your limbs to jello. Jamie could no longer hold off. He pumped his cock just enough to relieve the pressure, but not enough to cum. He couldn’t come in his hand. He needed to come inside you. 

You pulled him up to kiss him again, sighing into his mouth when you tasted yourself on him. He led you through his hallway, picking you up so you could wrap your legs around him as he carried you up the stairs to his bedroom. You pushed yourself on him, moaning when you felt his cock prod your pussy. Your soaked panties and his thin boxers were the only things separating you from each other. 

He dropped you on his bed, not once disconnecting your lips. Jamie was on top of you, hips rocking against yours. You were tugging down your underwear, whining when the cool air hit your center. Jamie tugged his boxers off shortly after you. He hissed in pleasure when the head of his dick touched your entrance. 

In his distracted state, you flipped the both of you over so you were on top. You got on your knees, placing your body in between his separated legs. He looked at you questioningly, his face ever so expressive. You arched your back so you were leaning onto him. You grabbed his dick, lightly stroking it. Jamie scrunched his eyes closed, taking in a breath as you took your time with him. He backed up so his back was on his bed frame and you hungrily followed him. He crossed his arms behind his head. 

Jamie’s heart nearly stopped when your tongue licked up the side of his cock. You wrapped your lips around his head briefly, “Been wantin’ to taste ya since forever ago.” 

“Yeah?” Jamie breathed out, unable to look away from you. He groaned when you took his cock in your mouth, your hand wrapping around the rest of him that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. He tucked your hair behind your ears, trying to stop himself from bucking his hips up, “Been wantin’ you like this for so long. Wanted to feel that perfect pussy.” 

You groaned at his words, continuing to suck him off. He was a moaning mess, panting, hands gripping the sheets beside him. He abruptly pulled you off his dick, mumbling something about wanting to finish in your pussy. You hummed, connecting your lips once more. As he hovered over you, you leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Next time, I want you to fuck my mouth so hard I lose my voice. Don’t hold back, baby. Want to taste you.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jamie groaned, stopping his movements. He dropped his head on your shoulder. His dick was poking your pussy, more than ready to feel you around it. “You’re going to be the death of me.” 

“Told you, you couldn’t handle me.” 

Jamie licked his lips, a twinkle in his eye. “Told you, you were goin’ to regret sayin’ that, love.” 

Jamie pushed into you with fervor. Your scream bounced off the walls, and the air in your lungs disappeared. He looked down at you, a moan escaping his lips at how utterly perfect you looked under him. Your nails clawed at his back, no doubt leaving marks on it. Jamie couldn’t feel it. All he could feel was the warmth and tightness of you. His brain was shortcircuiting. He met no resistance from your pussy. It was so inviting. It was like it was made just for him. 

No coherent words left your lips. All you could babble out was Jamie’s name. You forgot every word besides his name. Jamie. Jamie. Jamie. Like a fucking mantra. Like a prayer. 

“Baby,” Jamie whispered. “Baby, please,” 

Your eyes were rolling back as you felt your orgasm coming quickly. Jamie was begging for you to come with him. He was close, so close that his ears were ringing. He couldn’t think about anything else but chasing his high and feeling you come undone around his cock. He thrusted into you with a rhythm that had you sobbing. The pleasure was so intense. You felt so full. 

Jamie felt your pussy tighten around him and his arms nearly gave out. He held himself on top of you, continuing to push into your pussy. His fingers found your clit, rubbing it at the perfect pressure to bring you to your end. 

“Shit,” Jamie hissed, unable to stop himself from pounding into you. You yelled out his name when you came, your pussy constricting around him as you orgasm. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, spilling himself inside of you shortly after. 

You cradled his head against you as he tried to catch his breath. When he pulled out of you, an involuntary sound left your mouth, suddenly feeling empty. Jamie chuckled at your reaction and let his eyes trail down your body. He licked his lips at the sight of his cum spilling out of you. 

You rolled over on your side, reaching up to fix his hair, “So what’s the verdict, Tartt? Can you handle me?” 

Jamie laughed, wrapping an arm around you. He placed his lips on yours, softer and sweeter this time. There was no more urgency between the both of you. “I don’t think I can.” 

“Told you.” 

“But, I think I just have to build my stamina up,” He added, his hand making its way down to your ass. “So I just need to practice some more with you.”

You smacked him on the shoulder, throwing your head back in laughter, “You’re ridiculous.” 

He smiled at you, teasing, “Hey, you’re the one who said there was a next time.” 

“Mhm,” you mumbled, kissing him again, “There will definitely be a next time.” 

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hello!! I literally finished Ted Lasso and am IN LOVE with Jamie Tartt (this may or may not have to do with the amount of fics I’ve read recently). Would you be up for writing a Jamie x reader where they’ve been secretly dating for a while and the team finds out, perhaps with a reader that works for AFC Richmond as like they’re photographer or something?

Omg babe I need more Jamie fics in my life. Jamie Tartt x fem!reader

cw: swearing, hickey, jamie tartt being a smug asshole

776 words

You can't stop subconsciously rubbing your neck, likely from the anxiety of wondering if your makeup is doing an adequate job covering the smattering of love-bites on your neck. When your fingers came away with a chalky coating of powder, you kept your hand frozen by your side, your free hand jotting down notes as your boss kept rambling, careful to filter the necessary information from the side tangents. 

“You get all that, babe?” Keely looked up from her computer, half apologetic. “I’m so sorry my brain has been all over the place lately.” 

“You’re okay Miss.” You looked up, eyes catching on the man winking at you from across the room. He was looking nearly sinful with a towel slung over his bulky shoulder, skin gleaming with sweat. You stiffened, handing the clipboard to your boss. “Does this all look right?” 

She mumbled as her eyes scanned the page. “Perfect! Thank you so much, Y/N. I'm serious when I say I would be a complete shitstorm without you.” She glanced at the clock. “Oh, bugger! It’s gone 1. Why don’t you take your lunch, I’ll figure the rest of this mess out.” Her perfectly manicured hand shooed you from the office. 

“Thank you Miss.” You contained your smile, glancing at Jamie. He was still looking at you, brown eyes burning into your form. You scampered off, closing the door to Keely’s office on the way out. 

The hallway was oddly barren of players and staff, excepting the boy leant casually against the doorframe of the gym bearing lazy smile on his face. You walked up to him timidly, looking around the room to make sure there were no suspicious eyes. 

“Hey cutie.” He said, running a hand through his blonde hair. Your legs felt like jelly, only made worse from the pinching heels on your feet.

“Hey Jamie. Are you okay? Why aren’t you in practice??” You looked over him for injuries, expecting to find some blooming bruise or irritated scratches. He smiled at you. You could tell he wanted to reach for you but didn’t want to risk the exposure. 

You were the main reason the relationship between you two was a secret. Jamie would shout it from the rooftop if he could, but you were still unsure. You weren’t ashamed by any means, but you couldn’t help but feel pressure. You were dating one of the most well-known Richmond players. (one who was also on a dating show made entirely up of very attractive people). Nevertheless, Jamie treated you like a rare diamond. 

“You can stop checking me out, babe. I’m alright. Coach is just havin’ us run laps. I finished first.” He was sickly sweet, if not a little boastful, looking you up and down, smirking like a cat who got the cream. “How long do you have on your break?” 

“Just under an hour.” You subconsciously glanced at a watch that wasn’t there. His grin grew as he pulled you towards the locker room. “Jamie, what if someone walks in?” Even as you protested you couldn’t help your own smile from spreading over your face. 

“Trust me, love. The lads are slackin' today. The only one who is going to finish in the next hour is Dani, and that chipper prick will stay and chat the Coaches to death.” 

You sighed, letting James tug you into his arms. He smelled like grass, rain, sweat, and himself. It was intoxicating. “I missed you.” You mumbled into his chest. 

“Missed you too, lovely girl.” He chucked, pulling you up for a kiss. No sooner did he deepen it than you heard a crash behind you. You tried to jump away from Jamie but he held onto you. You turned around to find a sheepish-looking Sam slowly backing away from the door. 

“I- I am so sorry.” Sam looked like he was trying to shrink down to bug-size. “I’ll just, I don’t want to interrupt.” 

“You’re ok-” 

“God, Sam, mind your fuckin' business.” Jamie faux-scolded. Sam slightly smiled. 

“I am.” He put his hands up in a ‘don’t shoot’ gesture. “And don’t worry, your secret is safe with-” 

Right when he said that, a crowd of about ten players scrambled into the locker room, all pausing when they took in the spectacle in front of them. You could see them looking between Sam, you, and Jamie who still had his arm wrapped around your waist. The room was dead silent, until someone spoke up from the back of the group.

“Well now we know why Y/N comes to practice so much.” 

“Shut the fuck up Jan Maas!” Upwards of five people shouted.

[rqgnarok]

delicate - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 3,589

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

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

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Jamie’s nervous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yet. 

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

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

hey 

its jamie from the bar??

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

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

Hi, I’d love to!

I really enjoyed being with you too :) 

Is tomorrow night too early?

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

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

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

He pretended he was yours. All the damn time.  

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

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

“Oh, dinner looks ace, love.”

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

“I’ll die chuffed, at least.”

A snort. “You’re so fucking British.”

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

“Jesus Christ.”

“Didn’t know you were so religious.”

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

“Ha! Haven’t even kissed you, yet.”

“You seem awfully confident.”

“Night’s very young, angelface.”

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

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

And yet. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dreamin’ of me, angel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

________

AHHHH HERE IT IS, HERE IT IS

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

<3

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[cantstoptheimagines]

Golden Boy (Dani Rojas | Ted Lasso)

Summary — All Dani wants is your attention.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Fluff; co-workers to lovers; some canon-typical cursing (mostly from Roy); feigning excuses to see one’s love; Dani being Dani (a golden retriever); Roy being a frustrated, unintentional wingman; Reader is a physical trainer for AFC Richmond.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 1,735. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them). ➳ This work has a visual edit!

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule 

“He’s doing it again.”

Ted furrowed his eyebrows. His eyes sharpened beneath his dark sunglasses. Next to him, Roy and Beard had their attention focused on something other than the players on the training pitch. Nate was merely shaking his head. Ted, however, felt his face burst into a cheerful expression when he noticed what he gained their attention.

Across the pitch, Dani Rojas was very slowly going through some drills, weaving between some cones with an occasional limp as he gently kicked a ball. It would be very unlike him to be so subtle during practice, if he didn’t have his preferred audience, that is.

From the sidelines, you were watching him carefully. Your hands rested on your hips while your eyes were unwaveringly set on his left ankle. It was something he had been complaining to you about for a few days.

“That’s the third fucking time this week.”

Roy’s grumbles forced Ted out of his thoughts. He tilted his head and grinned, “Oh, c’mon, Roy! Don’t tell me you never had a crush someone? Dani’s just experiencin’ some classic symptoms of puppy love right now. I say we let this run its course.”

Ted ignored the way Roy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Even from the other side of the training pitch, it was easy to see how well you and Dani got along. Dani was always happy, of course, but whenever you came around, his smile had a tendency of becoming ten times brighter.

But what was good for Dani wasn’t always good for the team, much to Ted’s disappointment. Richmond’s happy-go-lucky striker had gone from Greyhound to Golden Retriever the moment he met you. And the fact that you were one of the team’s physical trainers didn’t help. You practically had Dani at your beck and call without even realizing it.

And Dani was either too shy to start a conversation without having an excuse for doing so prepared or he was genuinely turning into the biggest klutz on the team. After his ‘injuries’ began occurring on an almost daily basis, however, two things became clear.

The first being that, despite his sweet disposition and undeniable good nature, Dani Rojas was a damn good liar when he wanted to be. It had taken everyone weeks to see through his façade.

And you, who seemingly had no clue about Dani’s stunts, had officially become what was potentially the worst type of person in all of sports. The type that every locker room loathed and every coach feared. A distraction. 

“Oi! Rojas!”

Ted jumped at the sound of Roy’s sudden angry shout. Despite being on the other side of the training pitch, Dani did as well. While Ted had become lost in his thoughts, Dani had stopped doing his drills altogether. Instead, he had moved to stand mere inches away from you, smiling brightly as he absentmindedly played with the hem of your shirt.

It was something you didn’t even seem to notice, but his teammates, along with Roy, certainly did.

“Get back to fucking practice!” 

Ted watched as Dani bid you a quick, quiet farewell. He then scurried onto the pitch to join the rest of his team. If he had a tail, it would certainly be between his legs.

“Sorry, Coach!” he called, face flushing with embarrassment. “Let’s play, mis amigos!”

This was a small victory for Roy. He let out a satisfied grunt, watching with his hawk-like eyes as you quickly made yourself scarce. Ted, meanwhile, couldn’t help but give his fellow coach an exasperated stare. Beard tried to keep a smirk off his face while Nate simply shifted awkwardly. 

“Really, Roy?” asked Ted. “Really?” 

The man in question scoffed, furrowing his eyebrows with a scowl, “What? He’s back on the pitch, isn’t he? That’s where he’s meant to be! Not off chatting on the sidelines!”

Ted shook his head, quietly muttering, “Seems to me you just don’t want Dani to find true love.”

“Now wait just a fucking minute—!”

“Uh, guys,” said Beard, voice shaking, “hate to interrupt the friendly chat, but I think we’ve got a problem.”

It was then the other coaches realized what he was referring to. On the training pitch, Dani was on the grass, groaning loudly as he clutched his ankle.

“Oh, shit!” exclaimed Roy.

Each of them quickly ran onto the training pitch. Nate quickly grabbed his phone before following, ready to call for help if it ended up being an emergency.

The players had surrounded Dani, trying their best to help him. His face was twisted in pain. He curled into himself and rolled onto his side. Beard kneeled next to him, removing his sunglasses in order to get a clearer view of the situation.

“What’s going on, Rojas?” he asked. “What happened?” 

“¡Ayúdame! Coach, please!” exclaimed Dani. “¡Mi tobillo! The right!”

Nate winced, “Do I need to call—?”

“Whistle! Whistle! Hold it!” shouted Roy, eyebrows sinking even deeper into his irritated expression. “I thought it was your left ankle that was fucking you up? Not the right?”

Even Dani himself paused at that. The chaos of the moment dimmed. He could see smirks growing on the faces of some of his teammates while others simply shook their heads and returned to practice.

“That’s it!” grumbled Roy, reaching down and roughly pulling Dani to his feet. “C’mon! We’re settling this shit right now!” 

Ted glanced at both Beard and Nate, who each had concern written across their faces. Meanwhile, Roy was practically dragging Dani by the back of his uniform in the direction of the Richmond clubhouse. Ted grimaced at the sight, and muttered, “Why don’t you two stay here and watch the team? I’m gonna try to help ‘em sort this whole thing out.” 

Before either of them could so much as blink, Ted had spun around to follow an angry Roy and a shaking Dani. His quick pace led him into the clubhouse. His footsteps echoed loudly as he did his best to catch up to the other two men. 

Ted caught up just in time to witness Roy roughly opening the door to your office. It slammed against the wall so hard that Ted wouldn’t be surprised if there was a hole left behind.

You nearly wet yourself at the sudden scare. Your heart pounded within your chest. Adrenaline, along with complete and total confusion, flooded through your body as Roy forced Dani to stand in front of your desk. You hardly even noticed Ted watching the scene from the doorway, anxiously biting his nails. 

“You’ve become a fucking problem,” glared Roy.

The disgusted expression that crossed your face nearly made Ted sick. Your lips curled and your eyes narrowed, “And you haven’t? You nearly ripped my door off, dickface!” 

Roy paused, seemingly taking in your words as he stared at you. Finally, he grunted, “Look, we just need you to fix him.” 

Your eyes followed in the direction he suddenly began pointing. When your gaze met Dani’s brown eyes, Ted and Roy noticed the way your glare softened.

“Dani, I told you this already,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I think your ankle’s fine. Just wrap it up and elevate it tonight with some ice, you’ll be good for the game—”

“He’s not injured,” interrupted Roy. “The team’s ‘golden boy’ here is a liar—”

“Okay!” exclaimed Ted. The look of displeasure once again blooming within your eyes gave him a reason to finally leap into the conversation. “Now, I don’t think Roy meant that in the way it sounded.”

Your shoulders seemed to lose their tension as he spoke. Instead of glaring at Roy, you gave your full attention to Ted. But honestly, Ted wasn’t sure if that was better or worse in their situation. 

“We just think Dani’s got somethin’ to tell you about that ankle of his,” he continued, and then he gestured to the footballer in question. “Ain’t that right, Mr. Rojas?” 

Dani, who had been admiring you from his place in front of your desk, froze when the three of you looked at him expectantly. He twiddled his thumbs at the sudden attention, “It is true. I have been lying to you, my friend, but I meant no harm by it. My reasons were innocent! ¡Prometo!” 

Dani admired the confused expression that overwhelmed your features. You always looked so wonderful to him, no matter the emotion. He only hoped you wouldn’t be upset with him.

With an encouraging nod from Ted, he continued, “My ankle was never injured. I have been lying in order to, well... I only wanted to spend time with you. But my actions seem to have only brought frustration to my teammates. I am sorry.”

You tilted your head with a small smile when his voice trailed off. Leaning back in your chair, you chuckled, “Dani, you’re so sweet... but I already knew you were faking.”

“You did?!”

You blinked in surprise at the sound of all three men shouting in unison. They stared back at you in shock, though Roy in particular seemed to be feeling some irritation as well. You tried not to grin as Ted ripped off his sunglasses, eyes wide with disbelief. And the way Dani tightly gripped the edge of your desk, leaning forward with a dropped jaw, was also quite amusing. 

“Uh, yeah! You footballers aren’t exactly what I would call subtle when it comes to flirting,” you shrugged, shaking your head at them. “Plus, Colin told me about it weeks ago when he came in for me to look at his shoulder. I’ve basically just been waiting for you to gather up enough courage to ask me out, but it seems like I’m gonna have to take the first step. So, Dani, why don’t you pick me up at seven?”

Ted had never seen someone look so happy. Dani smiled so excitedly, Ted thought he might put the sun out of business. 

“Yes, yes!” exclaimed Dani, back to his usual enthusiastic attitude. “A million times yes! I will see you tonight! Oh, I cannot wait to tell mis amigos! Let’s go, coaches!”

He whooped and cheered loudly as he quickly left your office. Ted and Roy watched him leave. While Ted sported a wide, happy grin, Roy looked on in bewilderment. After a moment, however, he turned to you with yet another glare.

“You couldn’t have fucking done that sooner?!”

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

My Heart Takes Off on a High-Speed Chase

I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You

Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader

4.6k words

Warnings: Language, lying/sneaking around, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, fluff & flirting, protective dad, mean girls being mean girls, some spiciness

The alarm was supposed to go off at about four in the morning so you could slip back into your open window before anyone noticed you were out all night. Somehow, it didn’t. Instead, you were woken up by the sound of Roy’s light snores and the faint sunshine beginning to peek through his bedroom window.

“Fuck,” you hissed, glimpsing the clock that announced it was close to six in the morning. “Roy.” You shook his shoulder. “I gotta fucking go.” You sat up and began throwing the blankets off of you, grimacing when the cold morning air hit your bare legs.

A firm grip wrapped around your middle and tugged you back down. “Don’t go, babe,” came a sleepy growl.

Babe. Roy had never called you babe before. Princess, gorgeous, beautiful, sure, but never babe. Something about the little syllable that tumbled past his drowsy lips had your heart pounding louder than you knew the crowd at Stamford Bridge would be that afternoon. Did he mean it? you wondered. Did he mean to call you a name that held so much weight? Something that implied affection and belonging to one another? Fuck, you hoped so.

But this was too much thinking for six in the morning, you decided. So instead, you let out an awkward chuckle and pressed a kiss to his cheek, all warm from being pressed to his pillow all night. “I’ve gotta go,” you huffed as you climbed out of bed.

With a stretch and a yawn, Roy sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His eyes began to brighten as he watched you turn to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. “Not sick of me already?” he teased, waggling his eyebrows at you.

“Course not.” You couldn’t help but smile as you tugged on the t-shirt Roy had all but ripped off you the night before.

“Good.” He reached out and grabbed your hand so he could tug you back to himself. You stood between his knees, gazing down at him, unable to resist the urge to run your fingers through his dark curls. The way his mouth pulled up in the corners told you he was enjoying your soft touch. “Because I am absolutely not sick of you.” To prove his point, he began planting open-mouthed kisses on your neck, smirking at the way your head rolled back and the little groan that slipped past your lips.

Trying to keep some composure, you placed your hands firmly on his broad shoulders in a half-hearted attempt to shove him off of you. “Stop that,” you grumbled, not really meaning it. “Or I may never leave.”

Rather than stop, he glided his tongue against your skin sinfully slow. “That’s the plan, princess.”

It took a lot of pawing and sloppy kissing and whining and sighing, but the two of you finally managed to put some clothes on and leave Roy’s flat. After laughing and pushing him off of you in the car, you finally climbed back up that tree and through your window, praying to whatever god was out there that your father wasn’t looking outside as you scurried up. You collapsed into your bed with a huff, trying to wipe the stupid smile off your face. How the hell were you supposed to go to Chelsea’s season opener and not act like you were giddy over their gruff midfielder? As sexy as he was when he made you laugh or when you were in bed together, the truth was you never found him more attractive than when he was on the pitch. He’d be wearing Chelsea blue, running circles around opponents, rough and skillful, not to mention the beads of sweat that would drip down all the muscles you’d now seen up close and personal. Fuck, you’d be drooling in the stands for everyone to see.

Against your better judgement, you gravitated towards your number six kit when you finally began to get ready for the day’s match. It wasn’t like this was your first time wearing his name on your back; you had plenty of kits featuring the names of your dad’s players. But this time felt a bit riskier, as though you were broadcasting something to the world. Then again, how could you resist grabbing the blue material with KENT embroidered on the back when his name was slowly becoming imprinted on your heart?

Unsurprisingly, your dad narrowed his eyes at the sight of the familiar number six on your back. “What’s with the kit?” he mumbled, grumpiness in his voice.

You blinked, all faux innocence. “It’s opening day,” you answered simply. “I always wear a kit on opening day, Dad.”

“And what made you pick that one?” His voice was even and low- and positively dangerous.

Still, you shrugged as you stuffed your mobile into your purse. “Just grabbed the first one I saw,” you lied. “Is it a problem?”

Of course it was. You knew it was. You knew you were pushing boundaries and making your dad uncomfortable. He was watching you blur the lines with his star midfielder, a man with a reputation for spending almost as much time in women’s beds as on the pitch. He wasn’t oblivious to your little crush, but it was clear that something was different. Roy was clearly flirting back, clearly distracted every time you were around. It was enough to make any father uneasy.

But he didn’t push. Instead, he simply grunted and grabbed his keys, leading you out to the car. It was a quiet drive to Stamford Bridge, quieter than usual. You chalked it up to the first match of the season; it made you feel far too guilty to believe he was this unhappy with your friendship with Roy.

At least being at the stadium allowed you to feel distracted. You put on your badge and waved to the staff, faces you’d spent years around. Even with your sulking father next to you, you couldn’t help bouncing with excitement. For you, opening day was better than Christmas. It held opportunities and excitement, the promise of a new start.

It also presented the chance to see Roy in his Chelsea kit.

You had been in your dad’s office when he ambled in, the picture of confidence in his black leather jacket. His eyes were immediately drawn to you. With so many people milling around, the most he could do was offer a casual nod of acknowledgement, but you could see the look in his eyes. They were sparkling, full of joy, and you couldn’t help but wonder how much was caused by the dawn of a new season- and how much was caused by you.

Hoping to avoid your dad’s ire, you busied yourself with organizing his already tidy desk, pausing only to steal glances at Roy as he changed. Even with being in bed with him mere hours ago, you fought the urge to sigh contentedly as he peeled off his shirt, exposing his bare chest. As if he knew he had an audience, he took his time digging through his locker for his kit, even stopping to greet a few teammates who passed by. Sure, it all looked natural, like he was just preparing for the match, but the way he slyly quirked an eyebrow before tugging his kit on let you know that yes, he knew you were watching.

“Better head to your seat,” your dad finally mumbled as you handed him his lucky water bottle.

Deciding to play nice, you nodded and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Good luck out there, Dad,” you called as you left the coaches’ office- through the changing room, of course.

“Do I get a good luck kiss?” Roy murmured as you passed him. He busied himself with lacing up his boots, but you could hear the teasing in his voice.

You scoffed, pretending you weren’t wishing you could do exactly that. “As if Roy Kent needs luck.”

He sat up, clearly fighting a smile. “I’m scoring a goal for you today, you know.” Damn, he looked so cocky, with his smirk and the smugness dripping from his voice. And it fucking worked on him. “You can thank me later.” His wink had your knees threatening to buckle.

“Don’t go making promises you can’t keep,” you joked. With the entire team and coaching staff around, the most you could do was lightly punch his arm. “Have a good game, Kent.”

His eyes held yours for a moment, charming arrogance suddenly gone. “With you in the stands? Wearing my kit? Of course it’ll be good.” Another wink had you unable to contain your grin.

You were still smiling as you made your way through the stands to your seat. While your mum and brother were sitting in their usual seats just below the owners’ box, today you sat with some of the wives and girlfriends, right next to Jules’s wife, Katie. She’d called earlier in the week, asking if you’d be at the match- something she didn’t really need to ask- and inviting you to take the ticket a friend of hers had to turn down. Of course, you said yes. You liked Katie; she was easily your favorite of the wives.

She greeted you with a hug and a kiss on your cheek, thanking you for joining her. “Nice kit,” she teased with a wink. Even though you’d never told her about your crush on Roy, she could clearly see your attraction to the midfielder. It was always a little embarrassing how obvious you seemed to be, but now, knowing Roy was pretty infatuated with you in return, it stung a little less.

Still, you rolled your eyes and gave Katie a light shove. “If I had crush on every player whose kit I wore, we’d be in big trouble,” you scoffed, acting as if the name on your back wasn’t special to you.

Katie smiled but seemed to let you off the hook. “Jules had a good time last night,” she finally chirped. “He said you two sat together at dinner.”

Relieved to have a new topic, you nodded eagerly. “He’s always a blast,” you said. “The three of us should hang out sometime.” You meant it; Jules always made you laugh, and Katie was one of the nicest people you knew. You definitely wouldn’t mind more time with them.

“Or we could invite Kent and make it an even four,” Katie suggested slyly.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Alright, I’m not talking to you for the rest of the day,” you declared, folding your arms and slouching.

With a giggle and an arm wrapped around your shoulders, Katie shook her head. “No! We can’t have that!” She gave you a squeeze. “Especially since I haven’t told you that I talked to my bosses about you.” She waggled her eyebrows. “They’d love to read your work sometime.”

Despite your attempt at pouting, you couldn’t help smiling at Katie. “I still have one more year of school,” you reminded her. “Lots of deadlines and stress. But once I graduate, I’ve got lots of ideas, I swear.”

She nodded eagerly. “Fine, we’ll wait. But you’ve got to promise me first dibs on your debut novel, alright?”

“Alright,” you promised.

The two of you chattered about your writing- which, truthfully, you’d been neglecting lately due to being so wrapped up in Roy- until the team came out to be introduced for the first time for the season. You rose to your feet with the rest of the stadium, shouting and cheering for the men in their blue kits. You chuckled listening to normally reserved Katie shriek her husband’s name; secretly, you wished you could scream Roy’s name just as brazenly. Instead, you settled for clapping and hooting for each player, unable to resist raising your voice a smidge when the announcers called out Roy’s name.

The match started excitingly enough; neither team had scored as the first half approached its end, but there had been some thrilling plays, and Chelsea had come close to scoring more than a few times. But you knew your dad wouldn’t be happy going into halftime with a nil-nil score.

“Come on boys!” you shouted, the way you normally would at training, as if they could hear you over the roar of the stadium.

The ball passed to Roy’s feet as he sprinted down the pitch towards the goal. He was almost a blur, speeding past every player that approached him. In the blink of an eye, he advanced to the goalkeeper and took his shot.

“KENT SCORES!”

You shot to your feet, screaming and throwing your hands in the air. Everyone around you cheered, and Katie joined you in jumping up and down excitedly.

“Atta boy, Kent!” you called out, not bothering to hide your smile as you watched the team embrace him.

“Is that Kent’s girl?” a snide voice behind you asked.

A scoff answered the question. “That’s the manager’s daughter.” You vaguely recognized the voice; it was someone’s girlfriend, a swimsuit model if you recalled. “She’s so not Kent’s type.”

Your face went beet red as you continued your clapping, as if you hadn’t heard the insulting tone in the woman’s voice. Katie clearly also heard, based on the pitiful look she sent your way. She shook her head, as if she were telling you to ignore them. Instead, you focused on the sound of someone’s radio, listening to the excited commentators gush over Roy.

“Kent is positively beaming after scoring Chelsea’s first goal of the season,” they were saying. “And he’s- is he curtsying?”

Your eyes were back on the pitch in an instant. There was Roy, gorgeous in his kit, holding his shorts out like a skirt and giving a little bow- right in your direction. You covered your mouth to keep from laughing out loud; while to everyone else it probably looked like the midfielder was being uncharacteristically silly, you knew this was his signal that his goal had been for you- Chelsea’s princess.

As you and Katie took your seats and watched the teams set for kickoff, Marie, a defender’s wife on Katie’s other side, leaned close. “Do you two know what the hell Kent was doing?” she chuckled with raised eyebrows.

Katie shook her head before turning to you with teasing eyes. “Any idea, princess?”

“No clue,” you hummed, leaning back in your seat and fighting the smile that was forming on your face. Surely, if you kept your mouth shut, Katie would stop staring at you expectantly. When she didn’t, you just rolled your eyes at her. “How am I supposed to know why Kent does what he does?”

She shrugged. “Thought maybe he told you he was planning on it last night.” The referee’s whistle distracted her from the way you nearly choked at her words. “Jules said the two of you were particularly friendly at dinner.”

Relief flooded your chest when you realized she was talking about the team dinner, not your late-night activities with the footballer. “Kent and I are always friendly,” you snorted as you clapped along with everyone else for the team that was now disappearing for halftime. “It’s part of, you know, being friends.”

Katie hummed knowingly but dropped it. However, she still managed to elbow you and waggle her eyebrows when Roy and the rest of the team returned to the pitch for the second half. And she gave a playful little scoff when the match ended- 3-1 in Chelsea’s favor- and Roy raised his hand in your direction. Your fierce blush sure didn’t help things as the two of you stood and began making your way down to the tunnels to wait for the players to emerge from the changing room. You avoided the eyes of the models who’d laughed at you earlier, cringing when you saw them wrap their arms around their freshly showered footballers; some sad little part of you wished you could greet Roy that same way. Instead, you plastered on a smile when Jules approached and gave Katie a small peck on the cheek.

He greeted you with a nod. “Are you joining us on the road next weekend?” He wrapped an arm around his wife. “I know this one could use someone to drive to the match with.”

“If my dad can manage to get me a ticket, I’m in,” you joked, knowing you always had a seat waiting for you.

“I’m sure Kent could get you a ticket.” Jules winked at you. “I think he’s still inside. Decent and fully clothed, unfortunately for you.”

You narrowed your eyes at the footballer and his giggling wife. “Should tell my dad to bench you,” you grumbled. With a wave over your shoulder, you said goodbye to the couple and headed to the coaches’ offices. As you passed by the changing room door, a gruff voice called your name.

Roy waved you over to his locker, only looking away from you to glance towards your dad’s office. Apparently not seeing his manager, he smirked at you playfully as he slid his jacket on over his t-shirt. “You see my goal?”

“Oh, no, I must’ve been in the loo,” you deadpanned. “Was it a good one?”

“Ouch, princess.” He let his eyes wander down your figure for a brief moment. “You comin’ out to celebrate with the team?” The hopefulness in his face was almost enough to make you press him up against a wall and kiss him.

Unfortunately, you had to shake your head. “Don’t think that’s the best idea,” you murmured, gesturing towards your dad’s office.

He nodded, letting his shoulders slump a little. “Yeah, no. Makes sense.” He cleared his throat and leaned against his locker, his bravado reappearing. “How about you leave your window open? Maybe I’ll slip out of the celebration a little early.” He leaned close and lowered his growling voice. “Have our own little celebration.”

“We’ll see.” You flashed him a small grin before turning on your heel to leave the changing room. “Have fun, Kent.” You glanced over your shoulder at him with a quirked eyebrow. “But not too much fun.”

Roy’s smile stayed imprinted in your mind as you met up with your family and offered your dad congratulations on the first win of the season. You sat politely through the expensive dinner he insisted on treating you all to as a way to celebrate, doing your best to ignore how badly you wished you were instead in some club up against his star player. You smiled and laughed as your family discussed the match, which really had been a stellar one for the team. Of course, your blush was hard to hide when your mother brought up how surprising and, in her opinion, charming Roy’s goal celebration had been.

 “Don’t know what the hell’s gotten into him lately. Must be a girl,” your dad mumbled as he shoveled a bite of dessert into his mouth. He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Who’s Kent shagging this week?”

Water nearly spurted out of your nose at his question, prompting a curious look from your mother. “Why should I know?” you sputtered, trying to divert yourself with stealing a bit of your brother’s dessert.

Your dad shrugged. “You’re usually up on the gossip with the lads,” he pointed out. “And you two’ve been pretty chummy lately. Come on. What model or actress has he been here, there, and everywhere with these days?”

“We don’t talk about that stuff,” you mumbled, looking down at your fork. “We mostly talk about books and football.”

“Hmm.” Your dad turned to your mum, who was still staring at you. “Doesn’t matter,” he declared with a snicker. “Probably has a new bird on his arm as we speak, right?”

Your mother offered you a tight-lipped smile. “I don’t think we want to spend our dinner speculating about Roy Kent’s love life, do we?” She turned to your brother, who’d been intensely focused on his dessert. “What was your favorite part of the match, love?”

Thanks to your mum’s tactfulness, the rest of dinner was fairly painless. Still, it felt like an eternity before you were free to lock yourself up in your room and wait for a certain burly footballer to sneak in for a clandestine visit.

It was around midnight when you heard your unlocked window creak open. Lying on your tummy, you glanced up from the book you were reading just in time to see Roy stumble into the room; at least he’d finally learned to land on his feet, you noted with a smirk.

“Hey there,” you hummed.

Roy’s eyes widened when saw you on your bed, clad only in a pair of panties and his kit. “Fucking hell,” he groaned as he approached the bed. “What’re you trying to do to me, princess?”

It was kind of nice being the downright smug one for once. “What’s wrong Roy?” you purred, placing your book on your nightstand and giving the footballer your most innocent eyes. “Thought you liked seeing me in your kit.”

He looked almost pained as he sat on your bed and reached out to let his hand wander under your kit to stroke your bare back. “You’re trying to fucking kill me,” he sighed.

You sat up and turned over to face him, devilish smile on your lips. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You’re tempting me to break my rule about keeping my pants on.” He tugged you onto his lap so you were straddling him. He let out a soft grunt when you gave a tiny grind against his quickly growing bulge. “Fuck.”

Roy’s mouth was harsh and hungry against yours as he held you tight against himself. While one hand splayed flat on your back, covering the number six you wore, his other hand snaked up the front of your jersey until it gently groped your breast. Roy moaned quietly into your mouth, starting to squirm beneath you. You tangled your hands in his dark hair, tugging lightly as he began grinding up against you. Your head rolled back as your mouth opened, ready to let out a soft whimper-

KNOCK-KNOCK

You stilled on Roy’s lap, his lips frozen on your jaw. “Yeah?” you called out in a voice that you hoped wasn’t too shaky. When Roy lifted his head to look at you with wide eyes, you immediately brought a hand to cover his mouth.

“You still up, love?” Your dad’s voice was stifled by a yawn. “Kinda late.”

“Just reading,” you answered, shaking your head at Roy frantically. “Can’t sleep.”

Another yawn wafted past the door. “Alright. Don’t stay up too late. Goodnight, I love you, my darling girl.”

Roy’s eyes were full of something almost sympathetic as they searched yours. “Love you too,” you answered, wondering if your dad could hear the nerves in your voice.

The two of you stayed completely still until you heard the distant sound of a door closing with finality. Slowly, you removed your hand from Roy’s mouth and offered him a sheepish shrug.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, stroking the back of his neck gently. You knew he could see the embarrassment on your face.

Roy shook his head and pecked your nose tenderly. “None of that,” he murmured. He leaned you back until you were lying down, then plopped down beside you. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. “I think that portion of the evening is officially over,” he chuckled. A kiss found your temple. After a moment he let out a thoughtful little hum. “Are you coming out of town with us this weekend?”

You sighed. “I want to,” you started. “But it’ll be a bit of a bummer to be out of town together and not be able to be… together.”

He was silent for a moment, his face colored with thought. “You just worry about packing a pretty little dress,” he finally said. “I’ll take care of the rest, alright?” He kissed the top of your head. “Don’t you worry about a thing, princess.”

Even though he piqued your curiosity, some part of you liked the idea that Roy wanted to figure out a way to see you, to spend real time with you away from the risk of being recognized in London. He thought you were worth the effort, you realized. And, once again, you couldn’t help but hope that you might mean something to Roy beyond looking good in his kit.

Especially when he gazed at you with something that looked a lot like total adoration.

“Alright, princess.” He narrowed his eyes at you playfully. “Where’s that fucking story your idiot professor hated?”

You wrinkled your nose and shook your head. “It’s late,” you reminded him. “You don’t want to read that right now.”

He chuckled and let his hand drift down to your bare thigh. “I kind of have to. I need a good distraction,” he said in a low, joking voice. “Or else my pants’ll be on the floor and your parents will definitely hear what you’re up to.”

A quiet groan slipped past your lips at the thought of Roy’s implication. “Fine.” You slipped out of bed and tiptoed over to your desk, rummaging through the clutter there until you found the story in question, with its humiliating red marks all over it. Fighting a scowl at the memory of your abrasive professor, you returned to your bed and handed the pages to Roy. “You’re not allowed to make fun of it,” you warned him.

Roy shook his head at you as he sat up. “Never, princess.”

The two of you settled in for some reading; you grabbed your book from the nightstand and nestled against Roy’s chest, relishing the way he lazily wrapped an arm around you as he began reading. Despite your nerves about Roy reading your work- something you didn’t tend to let most guys do, let alone gorgeous footballers- you couldn’t help but enjoy the domesticity of the situation. His chest was warm and comfortable, and he pressed kisses to the top of your head from time to time. You were pretty sure you’d read the same paragraph of your book seven times, but you couldn’t retain a word of it. Not when you had the delicious smell of Roy’s cologne filling your nose and his heart beating just below your ear.

It felt like an eternity before Roy let out a small hum and handed you the pages.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Well?”

He shook his head as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “Fucking hell.” He squeezed you and planted kisses on your face. “My girl is so fucking talented.” With a content grunt, he shifted you onto his lap, your legs straddling him. He held your face between his hands. “You’re fucking amazing, babe.” His brown eyes shone with excitement and pride as he gazed at you. “So fucking amazing.”

Roy’s words were positively dizzying. Between his gushing praise for your writing and the names tumbling from his beautiful mouth- my girl? Babe?- your heart was slamming in your chest. Fuck, you were getting in deeper than you’d imagined you would with Roy Kent. Somewhere along the way, he’d stopped putting up his aloof attitude and had become affectionate and tender; you just worried that you were reading too much into this shift.

But when he pulled you against him for a sweet kiss, all those fears disappeared, at least for the moment.

Taglist:@gee72sstuff@book-of-roses@kissykissymouth@emmy2811 @hart-kinsella @klaine-92@dearvoidgoodnight@misshall14@issieruby@royal-sunflower@kissmekent@itswhateveripromise@slaymybreathaway@darkmagazineblaze@larascorneroftheworld@infinetlyforgotten@caught-the-feels@rae4725@sisinever@cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782@dd122004dd@veryprairieberry@spacecluster@dark-academia-slut @her-fandom-sanctum

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Always On the Sidelines

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: You and Jamie became close after training with the same trainer to get into the football league. However, an injury prevented you from fulfilling that dream, so you resorted to cheering Jamie on from the sidelines.

A/N: this ended up being almost 3k words because i refused to split this into two parts. omfg.

You and Jamie met because of your trainer. He double booked you and him so he decided you could just train together. It worked out so well that you two requested to continue to train with one another. Your trainer found it odd, but seeing how well you complemented each other, he relented. That's how you and Jamie became best friends.

Jamie was working to get on Man City's team and you wanted to be on the Chelsea team. You'd admitted that you wanted to be like Roy Kent. You and Jamie shared the same admiration for the man.

However, you never got your chance. A torn ACL ruined your opportunity. You were heartbroken, but that never stopped you from supporting your best friend from the sidelines.

____________________________

"WHAT THE FUCK, REF?!" you shouted as a penalty was called on Jamie. He and his teammates were shouting at the referee.

Keeley, Jamie's new girlfriend, watched you in amusement, "Didn't know you were into football like that."

You snort, "I was supposed go pro. That's how Jamie and I met, we had the same trainer. But I fucked up my leg and never got a chance."

Keeley looks at you with pity, "I'm sorry."

You shrug, "It's alright. I've accepted it, but it hasn't kept me away from the game. Clearly," you gesture to yourself and the pitch.

An hour later and the game is over. Man City won, no surprise.

You and Keeley went to the locker room to see Jamie. As soon as he saw you two, he came rushing over.

"There she is!" you prepared yourself to be tackled by Jamie like usual, but instead, he goes straight to Keeley. Of course. She's his girlfriend. Not you. Never you.

You knew you had feelings for Jamie. You had for a long time, but you never acted on them because, well, he just deserves so much better than you, a failed pro footballer. Keeley, she's much more suited for him. They make a great couple and despite wishing to be in Keeley's shoes, you don't hate her. She's so amazing and didn't see you as a threat when Jamie introduced you to her.

After spinning Keeley around, Jamie sets her down and presses a hungry kiss to her lips. You look away awkwardly.

When he pulls away, he smiles at you, "You owe me twenty quid."

You scoff, "Oh fuck off! As if you need more money!"

"We made a bet and I won!"

Keeley looks at the both of you confused, "A bet?"

You sigh, pulling out your wallet and placing the money in Jamie's outstretched hand, "We always make a bet to see how many points ahead Man City would win. I said four and Jams said two."

"And we, indeed, win by two. So thank you very much," he kisses the bills in his hand, "We're going for drinks. You comin'?" he asks as he wraps his arm around Keeley's waist.

You shake your head, "Nah."

Keeley pouts, "What? No! You should come!"

Jamie looks at you with concern, "Your leg actin' up again?" He asks that whenever you feel off. Sometimes it does start to hurt and you don't feel like being out for a long time.

"No, it's fine. Just a bit tired." He looks at you unconvinced and you roll your eyes, "Jams, seriously, I'm fine. Go have fun with the boy and," you gesture to Keeley, "makeout with your hot girlfriend."

"Yeah, alright. I'm checking up on you later though."

You roll your eyes again. He's always acted like your protector ever since your injury. It was sweet at first, but it's gotten annoying over time.

"Sure. Whatever," you hold your fist out, "Good game, Jams. Talk to you whenever." He bumps your fist and then you hug Keeley, "Have a good night. Make sure he doesn't get absolutely plastered."

"I'll try my best, babes!" she kisses your cheek and waves as you walk away.

________________________

You always felt left behind. After your injury, you watched Jamie and the rest of your friends continue on with their dreams. You were left to alternatives. Jamie continued on to greatness, still in his relationship with Keeley, and slowly leaving you behind.

You'd call and text, all were left unanswered. He stopped leaving tickets for you at the box office for his games. You didn't know what happened or what you did, but you were absolutely heartbroken.

You still watched his matches from the comfort of your home, still supporting him when he was lent to AFC Richmond. Even though he ghosted you, you still supported and cared for him.

Months later, you run into Keeley at a club, a place you usually wouldn't be at, but some coworkers dragged you out with them.

"Y/N!" Keeley squealed, running over and jugging you tight.

"Keeley! Hey! What're you doing here?"

"Just out with some friends! How've you been?!"

"What?" you couldn't hear her over the club's loud music.

"HOW'VE YOU BEEN?!"

You shake your head and slip your hand into hers, pulling her towards the back door.

You step out into the cool air, the door shutting behind you both, but the bass of the music still heard.

"Sorry, I really couldn't hear a thing."

Keeley shrugs, "It's fine," she pats your arm, "How've you been? I asked Jamie about you but he'd brush me off. Did you guys have a fight or something?"

You snort, "I wish. No, he just...ghosted me."

"He what?!"

"Yeah. I tried to get in contact with him, but nothing."

"That prick!"

You shake your head, "It's fi-"

"No, it's not! You were his best friend and you supported him through everything and he just drops you with no explanation!"

"This," you wave around her, "doesn't have to do with you and Jamie breaking up, does it?" Keeley looks at you in surprise and you shrug, "I still like to keep up on what he's doing, despite him ghosting me."

"You don't deserve that."

"And I'm sure whatever Jamie did, you didn't deserve it either, Keeley." You're surprised when she pulls you into a hug, but you just let it happen. She's always been very affectionate.

______________________

You suppose that the falling out with Jamie was a blessing in disguise. You may have lost your best friend, but you found a new one in Keeley. She made sure neither of you wallowed in sadness or self-pity. She took you out to fancy restaurants, took you on shopping sprees, you felt spoiled by her despite you objecting every time she offered to buy you something.

You felt like you came to know her pretty well, which meant when she asked you out for coffee, you could tell something was wrong.

"Whatever is going on, Keels, just tell me."

"I just don't want you to hate me."

"Why would I hate you? You're very unhate-able. Even when you were dating Jamie, I couldn't hate you!" Yes, you told her of your feelings towards Jamie. You didn't feel guilty about them anymore since they were no longer together. You admitted that you tried to not like her since she ultimately was in the position that you dreamt of being in, but she was always so nice and welcoming and understanding.

"I'm doing the PR for Richmond now!" she blurts out.

"Um, okay? Congrats and all, but why is this bad?"

"Because I'll be working around Jamie and you hate Jamie."

"Keels, I told you, I don't hate him. I was angry with him at first, yes, but I don't hate him. I don't think I ever cou-"

"Y/N? Keeley?"

You look to see Jamie standing there looking a little dumbfounded. Keeley nervously stands up, "Hey, Jamie? How's it going?"

"Nothin' much," he looks between you and her, "You're friends now?"

"We've always been kind of friends, but, uh, we've gotten a lot closer lately," Keeley replies with a polite smile.

"That's-That's good. Uh-"

"Keels, I think I'm gonna-"

"No!"

"Don't!"

Jamie and Keeley both exclaim in unison making you and everyone in the small cafe freeze for a second.

Jamie steps forward, "Actually, can we talk?"

"Sure," you follow Jamie to sit at a table outside the cafe.

Jamie's twiddling his fingers avoiding your eyes, "So...how are you?"

"I'm alright. You?"

"Could be better, honestly."

"Oh."

It's weird. You never once felt awkward in Jamie's presence, at least when it was the two of you. Now it's like you're strangers, like those years of friendship didn't happen. You never thought you'd end up here like this.

"Listen," Jamie runs his hand through his now blonde hair, "I'm sorry for ghostin' ya. It wasn't right, especially when you did nothin' wrong."

"Then what happened, Jamie? If I didn't do anything wrong, what made you drop me out of nowhere?"

He sighs, "Me dad. He got into me head and said a bunch of bullshit like I shouldn't be hanging around you anymore. That your bad luck would rub off on me. Said me getting transferred to Richmond was your fault because of your bad luck."

You scoff, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest. You never liked James Tartt Sr. From what Jamie told you, he was always an ass, but, for some reason, he still listened to him.

"I know it's not true. It's never been true. You've never been bad luck. But...the old man has always had ways of getting in me head and I just-"

"Ghosted me."

"It was wrong. Fucked up. And Keeley...she asked about you and I'd brush her off. You didn't deserve that."

"No, Jamie, I didn't, especially since I was always there for you. I was always supporting you. Even when you stopped answering my calls and leaving me tickets, I still watched your matches."

"Why?"

Because I love you. "Because you're my best friend."

"I was a prick, but-but I've been doing much better. Punched my dad in the face too."

"Good. He deserves it."

He nods, "So...we good?"

"I suppose. But if you ever do this to me again, Jamie. I'm kicking you so hard in the balls that you'll never procreate."

Jamie winces, "Yeah, alright. I hear ya."

You smirk, and hold your fist out. He bumps it with his and you two share a smile.

_________________

Things were back to how they used to be. You and Jamie texted each other every day, grabbed lunch or dinner when you could, you had movie nights, and you were at the games again to cheer Jamie on.

You cackle when Jamie hands you a kit like his, "What's this for?"

"You still collect every version of my kits, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll wear this now," you pull it over your long sleeve and do a twirl, "How do I look?"

"Fucking fit," he murmurs looking you up and down. He then clears his throat, "Um, I, gotta go. Coach does this meaningful speech before each game."

"Yeah okay. See you after then. Good luck, Jams!" you hold your fist out and he bumps it.

You watch as he walks to the locker room and you're startled when Keeley scurries over to you, "Oh. My. God! He's into you, babes!"

You look at her confused, "What? No, he isn't."

"He called you fit and he was totally checking you out! He had mad heart eyes seeing you in his kit!"

You snort and roll your eyes, "You're seeing things, Keels."

"Hell yeah, I'm seeing things! I'm seeing that Jamie Tartt is into you!" she pokes your side and then pouts, "Why aren't you happy? I thought you'd be happy about this! Isn't this what you wanted?"

"I'll be happy if he ever tells me he has feelings for me."

"When he tells you he has feelings for you. Because he does. I saw it with my own eyes." You shake your head and she huffs, "Fine, be in denial. But you owe me twenty quid when he confesses!"

"Sure, Keels."

_________________________

"Go! GO! That's it! YEEEESSS!!!" you, Keeley, Rebecca, and everyone around is hollering and jumping for joy when Jamie scores the game ends with Richmond winning.

After the game, Jamie runs up to you, twirling you around, "There she is!"

You laugh as you hold onto him, "You did great, Jams!"

"Our luck is turning around and I think I have you to thank for that."

"What? Me?"

"Yeah. Ever since you've been coming to our matches, we've been doing better than ever."

"Highly doubt that's because of me. Pretty sure it's because you and the team have worked hard to get here."

"Nah. Pretty sure it's all you," he gives you a flirtatious smirk that you've never seen directed at you before. At Keeley and other women, yeah, but never you.

"O-Oh, well, uh, you're welcome, I guess?"

"I'm gonna shower and change real quick. You're coming with me and the lads for dinner and drinks!"

"I am?"

"Yeah. You're my plus one and before you ask, Keeley is coming too."

You look at Keeley for confirmation, "Yup! I'm Roy's plus one." Because now her and Roy are a thing and you never thought they would work well together but they do and they're so cute, you could vomit.

"I should probably change then, right?" you look down at your Jamie replica kit he gave you before last week's game, paired with jeans, and coat.

Jamie shakes his head, "Nah. You look gorgeous. I'll be out in a bit!" he holds his fist out and you awkwardly bump it.

"Yeah. See you in a bit."

Keeley is bouncing in her stilettos, "Well?!"

"That means nothing. I'm going as his friend."

Keeley groans, "You're impossible!" she shakes you by the shoulders.

_____________________

Sam closed down his restaurant to the public so he can host the team and staff of AFC Richmond. The food was amazing, you loved that he shared part of his culture with everyone. After dinner, drinks were flowing and you chatted with Jamie's teammates getting to know them better.

After a while, you felt your leg starting to feel sore and you began to put your weight onto your other leg. You rode here with Jamie, you didn't want to cut his night short.

"Here," Jamie says, pulling you down onto his lap. He props your leg onto another chair and starts massaging it, all the while keeping his conversation going with Colin.

You look to Keeley, who's doing a little happy dance while Roy sips his beer and continues to glare at everyone.

"Do you wanna go home?" Jamie whispers in your ear while still massage your leg.

The intimacy catches you off guard as you stammer out, "N-No. I don't want to cut your celebration short."

"It's fine. I just don't want you in pain or nothing. I'll be seeing them tomorrow anyway." You shrug, not really sure what you should say.

"Alright, up," Jamie taps your hip and helps you up. He stands and announces his departure, "Alright, lads. I'll see you all tomorrow!"

"What? You're leaving now?" Richard asks in disbelief.

"I've had enough of ya for one day, besides, wanna spend some time with me girl," he points to you and the boys all give hoots and cheers.

"Use protection!" Keeley hollers jokingly, causing you to look at her horrified and Jamie just laughs her off.

Outside of the restaurant, Jamie hangs his jacket over your shoulders and walks beside you, hands in his pockets.

When you approach his car, he opens the passenger's side for you. Before getting in you ask, "Why did you call me that?"

"Call you what?"

"Your girl."

He shrugs, "You've always been my girl."

"Jamie-"

"I know it's fucking cliche or whatever, but it's true. I was just too dumb and blind to not see it.

"I know you're probably thinking I'm bullshitting you, but I promise I'm not. You-You don't understand how much happier I've been since having you back in me life. I feel whole and on the top of the world. When I scored the winning point today and I saw you jumping and screaming my name, I just thought 'Fuck. I love her so much'. And the thought of losing you again...it terrifies me to me core."

"I want to believe you, Jamie, but...I dunno."

"Tell me what's on your mind," he slips his hands into yours.

You look down at your intertwined hands and you laugh in disbelief, "I've always been on the sidelines when it came to you. Felt like you never truly saw me despite me being at your side for so long. I've-I've always dreamt of hearing you say that you have feelings for me and now you're doing it and I'm-I'm scared that you'll eventually push me to the side again."

Jamie's shaking his head fervently and he gently cups your face, "No. No, I'm never doing that again. I see you, Y/N. I do. I see your beautiful smile, the crinkle your nose makes when you see something you don't like. I hear the snort you give when I say something stupid. I see how fucking fit you look in me kits." You giggle and Jamie is beaming, "I see you and I love you, Y/N. I'm not pushing you to the side anymore. But I know I can be a lot, so we can go things your pace. Your way, your rules, whatever. I'm here for the ride."

"Okay," you reply meekly, still in disbelief that this was happening.

You watch as he glances down at your lips and begins to lean in but then freezes when you both hear, "YOU OWE ME TWENTY QUID!"

You burst out laughing, looking over your shoulder and giving Keeley the finger.

[malepresentingleg]

does phoebe straight up ship roy and jaime skfsjlfs

[undead-supernova]

HIGH TOLERANCE

Volcano Vaporizer / Masterlist

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

warnings: weed consumption, Steve (derogatory) (not to me, but in this canon sorry), jealous!reader out the whazoo, puke, drinking, horny thoughts, Annie Lennox's (Eurythmics) incredible song "Love Is a Stranger"

pairings: bestfriend!modern!eddie x bisexual!fem!reader

plot: it's everyone's downfall to desire jealousy to go both ways, isn't it?

wc: 5.8k

“What’re you up to?”

“Since you last asked me five minutes ago?”

“Yup.”

“Still trying to fix my toilet.” Eddie heard a bang. “Ow!”

“You good?”

“Just hit my head again. No big deal.”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “I could’ve done it for you if you just, you know, asked.”

“You’re on your break and I kinda need to pee, you know.”

Eddie looked down at his BLT, arms smeared with grease. No amount of soap could take everything off, especially in his brown coveralls. (Plus, his black nail polish had almost been obliterated within the first hour of his shift.) (It was devastating.) He was reclined in the front seat of his van, legs stretched out against the passenger seat, the one he tried not to picture you in.

He thought about his uncle Wayne, how he would’ve been more than happy to come fix whatever the fuck you needed if he had moved here like Eddie wanted. Wayne just didn’t like how big it was, how daunting it would be to start that process over of getting a new home and a new job. It was something Eddie assured him wouldn’t be so bad, but Wayne merely shook his head and told him that he preferred the comfort of Hawkins. Though, Eddie wasn’t so sure if Hawkins and comfort really went together.

Wayne accidentally met you once, two years ago. He’d come for his first (and only) visit. You had accidentally fallen asleep the night before after binge watching Ted Lasso. And to be clear, you fell asleep on Eddie’s bed, not his couch. And to be fair, Eddie really thought you’d be gone by the time they got back from the airport. 

But when he went to show Wayne his bedroom and found you scrolling on your phone… Well.

You introduced yourself and made breakfast. Breakfast. You stayed through your horrible embarrassment in Eddie’s shirt (and boxers) and cooked for everyone. It had gone well, but after you left Eddie had to beg Wayne to believe him that you were just friends.

Even then, there was no way Wayne didn’t already know what Eddie was too scared to say aloud.

“I could always send someone.”

“Who?”

Eddie thought about it but ultimately came up short. “Uh, I don’t know. Someone.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “No, thanks. I think I’ve got it.”

“I’ll see you tonight, though.”

“Tonight?” you asked.

Eddie paused. “Uh, I’m performing tonight? At The Hidey-Hole?” He could hear you let out a low “Ohhhhhh” as he spoke. “I’m bringing that volcano thing…?”

“Oh, shit!” you exclaimed. “You’re right. Glad I can come then. Jesus, I’m sorry for forgetting. I really didn’t want to miss that.”

Eddie smiled. “No problem, Weirdo.” And for some reason, he genuinely began sweating as he started his next question. A proper sweat, starting in his armpits and the crown of his head, threatening to send trickles down his neck and torso. Fuck, he needed a shower.

“Is it cool that I invited Robin…and, uh, Steve?”

You paused. “No, yeah. It’s fine. Sure.”

It hadn’t been a long pause. But it was a pause, one of those that lasted a second too long. A short break in the conversation, a hesitance that held more than just a beat of silence. And now he was wondering what the fuck you were thinking.

“Did you go on that date?”

Eddie couldn’t stop the lump growing in his throat as the question came through. Did he really want to tell you of all people about his subpar date with Steve Harrington? 

But you were still his best friend. He really couldn’t keep it from you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“And…how was it?”

Taking another bite of his sandwich, he recounted the night more to himself than you, really. Because, yeah, Steve had been nice. Really nice. A gentleman in every way that mattered. But, to put it simply, it was just fucking boring.

“It went okay, I guess? I don’t know. Steve’s a really nice guy and he’s pretty funny. Good at mini-golf, too.”

“Don’t you, like, hate mini-golf?”

You were right. Eddie loathed mini-golf after an unfortunate accident. He was by the edge of the water, trying to hit the neon green ball into the mouth of a hippo. It was on some date with some girl he was trying to impress, and he was a little too forceful with his swing. He failed to even hit the ball, losing his grip on the putter before dropping it to the ground. Eddie took a step forward, accidentally stepping on the ball. Lost his footing. Fell in the water. Hit his head. Had to be taken to the ER for a couple of stitches. Lost the girl after she had to drive him home.

He felt so embarrassed when he tried to go back a few months later and saw they put up a fence around the water and a sign that said No Swimming. 

“Yes, but I never told him that story.”

You snorted. “Well, why not?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you didn’t want to play mini golf, why didn’t you say anything about it?”

“I don’t know, I guess I wanted to make him happy.”

He could hear you pause again. “So, are you guys, like dating?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a serious thing.” Was he trying to tell himself this or you? “But I guess we are.”

“Cool.”

Cool? What did you mean by cool? That was half of an opinion, half judgment. Or did you really not care? But you were the one who asked, weren’t you? Did it mean anything that he still wanted you to be jealous, to finally come clean about how you felt and denounce Steve’s advances? 

He looked at the time and sighed. “Shit, I gotta head back. Hold on while I down this BLT.”

“Okay.”

He stuffed the last of his sandwich in his mouth and washed it down with the rest of his Dr. Pepper. 

“OW!” you shouted again. “Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck! I hate this stupid thing!”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Have fun with your broken toilet, Weirdo.”

“Yeah, yeah. Eat shit.”

You felt haunted by some kind of fucked up presence as you drove to that dive bar across the city. Knowing that your fears were confirmed… Well, it certainly wasn’t the best feeling, was it? Like the rejection before the rejection. The pre-game. The warmup. 

And you were always asking the wrong questions, weren’t you? Your mind was a pesky little thing, desperate for those deprecating answers to confirm every nightmare you’d had for the past two weeks. They were dating now. And maybe it wasn’t an official relationship yet, but casual dating led to dating and dating led to a relationship and a relationship led to the death of any and all chance with Eddie Munson.

“Love Is a Stranger” blasted through your speakers, the same song you sang at karaoke. The one where Eddie left the table to come and cheer you on, always being your biggest fan. He swayed, raising the roof ever so often to give an added effect. But… Well. What about Eddie and Steve’s performance? What about the way Eddie danced with him, getting closer than you’d ever seen them before?

Steve’s hands. The stumble. The nearly avoided kiss.

And you didn’t want to give in to the dangerous bitterness rising in you. You really didn’t.

But if you saw even a morsel of affection tonight, a mere kiss on the fucking cheek, you were going to throw up.

“'And I want you. And I want you. And I want you so, it’s an

obsession.'”

You groaned. “Get out of my head, Annie Lennox!”

But she, of course, couldn’t hear you. Instead, she was spending every second of that intoxicating beat teasing you, berating you. Making you wish that you’d stayed home tonight, bitter with a 10mg Delta-9 gummy, melting into the couch while watching Schitt’s Creek. At least there you could anxiously daydream about what was going to happen tonight and spiral down an endless well of what-ifs without having to see it. 

But you kept driving.

            “'It’s savage and it’s cruel and it shines like destruction.

            Comes in like a flood, and it seems like religion.

            It’s noble and it’s brutal, it distorts and deranges.

            And it wrenches you up and you’re left like a zombie.'”

You couldn’t help but let out another groan and skip the song.

“Fucking Annie Lennox,” you murmured.

When you got out of your car, you saw Eddie talking to Gareth, Grant, and Jeff over by his van, Gareth drumming against the pavement. Eddie was nodding along to the beat but turned at the sound of the car door, smile widening. It was like that anxiety dissipated, momentarily overwhelming you with a sense of calm and safety you always felt around him. It was so strange, the way he affected you.

“Look who it is,” you heard Grant say, hitting Jeff’s shoulder before pointing over at you.

“Eddie!” you called out before running over to him, trying to keep hold of your purse.

“Hurry up, Weirdo!” he exclaimed, arms spread wide, quick to catch and lift you into the air once you fell into him. 

It was so strange, the way he moved you.

You let out an exasperated “Ahhhh” as he moved you back and forth, shaking you a few times before putting you back down.

The rest of the band exclaimed your name, hooting and hollering, all rowdy and boyish.

“Lookin’ hot!” Jeff said, throwing you finger guns. You gave him a big smile.

“Yeah, you look so cool,” Eddie said once he had a chance to look you over. He took a step back, as if he were admiring art. Fuck. “The lucky fishnets?” he asked, pinching your thigh. You jumped, slapping his arm.

"Ow! Quit it!" But you still smiled, nodding feverishly. “To answer your question, yes. You know I had to wear ‘em.”

“Hell yeah, dude,” he replied, giving you a hearty high-five that stung. “It’s gonna be a good night.”

And you believed him. You really did.

“Hey, guys!” 

But you lost hope immediately, trying not to turn around at the sound of Steve’s voice. If there was anything that could ruin your night, it was Steve Harrington walking around drunk with loose lips and a penchant for physical affection.

Eddie waved. “What’s up!”

“Just here to rock out,” Robin responded. You turned and watched as she threw up her fingers in the sign of the horns. That made you laugh. She was trying her hardest and you respected that. You also respected how she wasn’t trying to fit in, in a forest green crop top and loose jeans. Her hands were stuffed in a dark jean jacket and had her hair up in a small bun. (In short, Robin was hot.)

“Hey, you look great!” Robin said to you, giving you a hug. “Love the lipstick.”

You were genuinely touched by the compliment. “Thanks, Robin. You look beautiful, as always.”

“Nice fishnets,” Steve noted, pointing to your legs.

You finally faced him, eyes widening when you took in his appearance. Steve was trying harder too, in a Panic! at the Disco Death of a Bachelor album t-shirt and jeans, with a chain in exchange for a belt. If it wasn’t him, that would look stupid. But it was Steve Harrington. He looked cool.

“Um, thank you,” you replied with a small smile.

Steve saluted you before poking Robin. “You should keep Rob company tonight. She invited Vickie, but she got stuck at work.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “And? It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. She has a life outside of me.”

Robin looked like she was telling the truth. She genuinely wasn't that upset about it. But Steve couldn't help but take things a little too far.

“Yeah, but you’re like in love with her, dude—"

“Am not! Shut up!”

“Yeah, Harrington,” Eddie agreed. “Let the girl live.”

Steve turned to you again, making your eyes widen. Was Steve wearing a little bit of eyeliner? Did he really put in this much effort to impress Eddie?

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Without a singular thought about consequences, you said, “Um, well, I’m going on a date tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Robin asked, narrowing her eyes. You knew she was suspicious from the get-go. “That’s very…soon.”

“You didn’t mention it on the phone earlier,” Eddie stated, turning his full attention to you now. You knew he was hurt. You saw it immediately. 

“Oh, yeah, well. We just made the plans like an hour ago and—so, yeah. They’re really cool.”

“That’s great, though,” Steve said, throwing a hand up to high-five you. You glanced over at Eddie’s seemingly blank expression before giving Steve the most pathetic high-five of your life. “You’ve been single the entire time I’ve known you. That’s awesome. Congrats.”

Before you could say anything, Grant was cutting in. “What about you and Eddie, huh?” he asked, smirking over at Steve.

No. No, no, no. Please no. You didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t need to.

But you did.

“Oh, yeah!” Steve laughed, pointing at Eddie. Eddie who was looking away, fiddling with something. Probably his lighter. He was always playing with that thing. 

You turned your attention back to Steve, bracing yourself for the impact.

“Eddie’s been so fun to go on dates with. Seriously, this guy is like a master at mini-golf.” You shot Eddie a look, noticing how he was already glancing over at you nervously. “I can never get the ball through those tiny slots and, seriously dude, you got through that windmill on the first try. It’s unbelievable.”

“That’s awesome,” you said, smiling mischievously. Eddie gave you a look, rolling his eyes. “Eddie’s just a natural at everything. Pinball, D&D, air hockey, and now mini-golf.”

Eddie groaned and you could tell he wanted you to shut up. “I just have a lot of interests. It’s really not that big of a deal.” He let out a small huff before pointing at the band. “Alright, you all go back inside with these two,” he turned to point at Robin and Steve, “because we,” now the finger was on you, “are going to take dabs.”

Everyone laughed at his finger-turned-compass before waving their goodbyes and heading off. The two of you watched everyone file through the door before Eddie turned to you and patted your shoulder.

“Come here, Weirdo. Got something special for ya.”

As he led you over to his van, you noticed his hand brushing your back. You wished he kept snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you in and playing with the lace. Fiddle with it to his heart’s content and give him a reason to keep touching you. Keep getting closer. Even if he was opening the back door of the van and pulling out a device, he could always keep you guys in there. Keep you close, whispering in the dark. Keep his fingers on your dress…

“Alright,” he said, clapping and rubbing his hands together. You shook the image out of your head. “So, I brought this thing called a Volcano Vaporizer. It’s, like, this thing where I put this plastic bag right here and when I melt the wax, it fills the bag with smoke, right?” You nodded, watching him work. “And then I put this orange mouthpiece on and, boom, you just suck the dab out. It’ll give us about three bags which will probably be more than enough.”

“Even for you?”

He smirked. “Even for me.”

“Sick,” you said.

“Here,” he said once it filled up. “First half is yours, humble cleric.”

Snorting, you shook your head. “Always the gentleman.”

You pressed your lips down on the mouthpiece and took it in slow, filling your lungs to the best of your ability. The taste wasn’t even half bad, similar to a regular bong hit, just with a little twist from being wax instead of bud. And the strangest thing happened when you blew out the air: You didn’t cough. Any time you took a dab, you coughed and hacked and lost your mind. Puffcos were your absolute enemy. But this…

“This is the smoothest dab I’ve ever taken,” you said.

He nodded, taking the bag from you and finishing off the first batch. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“How’d you get this?”

“Uh, I won it in a poker game against one of my dealers,” he said as he filled a second bag and took a hit. “I may have cheated, but he doesn’t know that.” You laughed. “It’s usually $700 or some shit like that.”

“An impeccable man,” you teased, taking the half-full bag. “Incredible work, Munson.”

You sucked in the rest of the dab and let the smoke out, noticing Eddie’s eyes directly on you. Reciprocating the eye contact, you grew confused when he didn’t break it at all. In fact, he seemed so much closer than before.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked.

“Looking at you like what?”

You nudged him. “Like that.”

“What’s their name?”

“Huh?”

“The person you’re going on the date with.”

“Gertrude,” you said without thinking. You swallowed down the urge to bash your head against the side of the van as you realized how utterly stupid you sounded. But you had to commit now. That was the only way out of this. You could only hope Eddie was dumb enough to believe you. “Their name is Gertrude.”

“Gertrude?” Eddie repeated. You nodded. “Sounds cool.”

Sounds cool? Sounds cool? That wasn’t supposed to be his response. Why wasn’t he calling you out for lying? Why wasn’t he exposing you for having a fat crush on him and throwing all of this stupid middle school behavior aside? But even if he did believe you, he was supposed to at least look a little upset by it. In fact, he looked more upset about you not telling him than he did with the fake ass name you made up. It was unbearable. You didn’t want this anymore.

Without hesitation, you reached out to grab his hand. You needed to feel him close, needed to feel the way you always did in his grasp. Safe. Understood. And here you were, seconds from meeting his open palm and saying to hell with all of these stupid games. To hell with keeping everything concealed. There was no Gertrude. There shouldn’t be a Steve. It was just you. It was just him. You were all his.

But there Eddie was, looking away from you and back towards Gareth at the door, waving him over. Eddie gave him a salute in turn.  

“Alright, Weirdo,” he said, patting your knee. He hadn’t even noticed your hand lying limp against your thigh. “I gotta go perform. Finish this for me?” he asked, handing you the rest of his dab. You nodded, giving him the best tight-lipped smile you could without giving away your disappointment. “Alright, don’t forget to lock the van and, oh, by the way, don’t be long. Gotta have my biggest fan in the front row.”

“Like always.”

“Like always.”

It was actually a really good turnout tonight. Corroded Coffin had finally gotten a spot to play on a Saturday which was a very big deal. The Hidey-Hole may have been a dive bar, but in Atlanta terms, that still meant it was packed on the weekends. At first it had been twenty people, twenty-five tops. Then fifty flooded the space with a bouncer and a line at the door and suddenly Eddie realized how important this was for the band.

So why was it that he couldn’t pay attention?

He couldn’t help but think about you, about this fucking person you were going on a date with. Would you find yourself wanting more? With a cool name like Gertrude, maybe you would. Eddie couldn’t help but flip through facial features and imaginings of who this person was and how their voice sounded and how it would feel if he saw you being kissed by someone else.

And, sure, Eddie was going on dates with Steve. But they hadn’t kissed or anything like that. Eddie wasn’t even sure he wanted to kiss Steve. Steve was pretty—extremely pretty. The kind of pretty that made any boy swoon, and all the girls lose their minds. But Steve just wasn’t someone Eddie wanted to kiss. 

Because you were screaming your head off in the front, jumping and dancing around to his music while Steve stood in the back and bopped his head. You knew every word, every note. You played an air guitar along with him, head banging your way through the set and pointing up at him whenever they got to a part that you really liked. He always shared his lyrics with you first, always shocked when you’d memorize them and squeal about your favorite lines.

He couldn’t help but smile at you, as lost in the music as he was. You were wearing one of his (secret) favorite dresses, a black lace babydoll dress with what you called your lucky fishnets. Specifically, the ones with you wore to whatever gig you could make it to. (Every gig you showed up to always drew in a larger crowd. How you did that, he couldn’t say. He did call you a witch once.)

Tonight, your eyes were lined in black with silver eye shadow and a deep burgundy lipstick. A lover of black, but you always wore it with a smile. Maybe the happiest semi-goth he’d ever met. He loved it—no, more than that. He went absolutely feral for it. It made his heart skyrocket, his mouth run a little dryer than usual. And when he was high like this, tingling with the vibrations of his Sweetheart, he prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t get a boner onstage. 

But he could see your dress riding up to reveal that your lucky fishnets came attached to garters and Sweetheart was adding juuuuust enough friction and suddenly he had to look away from you, too embarrassed that he fucking popped a boner in front of all these people, that he popped a boner in front of you, with only Sweetheart to keep his secret.

He looked back over to Steve, testing himself. Was Steve able to do the same thing? Could he ruin Eddie on this stage tonight and turn him into a mumbling fool in his bedroom later when he got himself off? 

But…there was nothing. Steve was talking to Robin and offhandedly looked at his phone. Eddie could even see him scrolling. He may have been swaying to the beat, but he was barely paying attention. It hurt Eddie’s feeling, just not in a way that would come from a potential lover.

In the end, he realized there really was only one person he wanted to kiss.

And she was currently going on dates with someone else.  

That Volcano truly did what it set out to do. You were seeing color after color, the room swirling around you in vibrant shades of red and black. It was all fuzzy and pixelated, vibrating within you. You were being taken on an overwhelming journey, but in a way that was calming. Eddie was right in front of you, giving it his all and basically staring at you the entire time. Or from what you could tell in between dancing and the room spinning you in circles like a merry-go-round.

And, holy hell, Eddie was so fucking hot when he performed. It burned, literally burned inside of you, slowly spreading between your legs. It was all Eddie’s fault, with his bangs sticking to his forehead and sweat rolling down his cheeks like teardrops. In every guitar solo, he bit his lip so hard that you could’ve sworn you saw him draw blood. His fingers hit note after note, charging up and down the neck of his electric guitar. Those hands which, ever so sweetly, used to fit right in yours. 

The callouses on the tips of his left hand, the ones that scratched at your palms whenever you held it. It was always rougher after band practice or when he came down from his apartment twenty minutes late after needing to perfect one of his wicked solos—like the one he was performing now. 

Those hands that you thought about sliding in between your thighs. Opening you up. Teasing you for wearing a garter belt to hold up your fishnets. Leaving little bites along your neck as he questioned why those were so lucky in the first place and asking you how lucky you thought you’d get tonight.

You had to make yourself stop thinking about it, trying to dance your desire away.

But you looked up at Eddie who was looking down at you. And there was something in his eyes, something blown out and downright dirty. You couldn’t help but stare back, giving him a wicked grin before moving your hips around. And if you made sure he could see your garter belt, well, maybe you didn’t care anymore. 

Because you saw his face go red and a smile meet his lips and suddenly you were thinking that maybe there was something more there. ‘Cause he wasn’t looking at Steve. He was looking at you. And when he finished his final belt of the night, he didn’t throw his guitar pick at Steve. He threw it at you.

“Oh em gee, is that Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin?”

Eddie turned with a grin, watching you comically twisting your foot and pretending to be bashful.

“Hey, you a fan?”

You nodded, batting your eyes. “I’m, like, your biggest fan. You’re so talented. Can I get your autograph?”

He smiled, nodding generously. “Of course, of course. Anything for my fans.”

Giggling, you dropped your act and hugged him. Even at his sweatiest, you never cared. It wasn’t like you weren’t sweaty from dancing all night. “In all seriousness, you were great. Like always.”

“Ah, thanks,” he replied, placing his chin on your head briefly before pulling back. “I really do appreciate it. You were killing it in the crowd.”

You smirked, placing your hands on your hips. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you give it your all every fucking time.”

You did a little dance as you teetered from side-to-side. “It’s so much fun! I can’t wait for the day you can play somewhere where we can mosh, ‘cause I’ll be the one to start it.”

“You think you’ll be able to handle it?” he teased.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Fuck yes I will. I’ll be bloody and gross by the end of it and it’ll be awesome. I swear, you underestimate—"

“Whoo!”

You both turned, watching Steve jog over. And as he approached, you felt all happiness drain from your limbs.

Because Steve had a wide smile on his face and he was fist bumping the air and he was drawing near, excitement flooding his features with flushed cheeks and sweat beading on his forehead and—

Steve kissed Eddie.

He actually kissed him.

And you couldn’t focus on any of the details. 

No, you weren’t going to keep torturing yourself like that.

So, you just…left.

Eddie pushed Steve back.

“What the hell was that, Harrington?”

Steve laughed. “Can I not kiss you?”

“I mean. I don’t—” Eddie sighed, shaking his head. He looked around the room for you, immediately having the urge to apologize. “I don’t know, man. Sorry.” 

“Listen, I think what you did up there was very, very sexy,” Steve said loudly, placing a finger on Eddie’s chest. 

Raising an eyebrow, Eddie simply nodded. “Uh, yeah, dude. Thanks.”

“Did you wanna get a snack at that diner after you pack up? We could even grab the girls and hang.”

Eddie really wanted to find you instead. He wanted to know if you saw Steve kiss him and if you really thought they were something more. He wanted to ask more about whoever this Gertrude was and if there was a reason you kept this from him until tonight. More than anything else, he wanted to know if you were okay.

But you just…left.

Your head was spinning, and it wasn’t going to be long before you completely broke down. A pool of nausea rested in your stomach, bubbling up your throat by the second. You made your way out of the bar, the humid air doing nothing to help. Tears collected in your eyes, threatening to spill over and smear your eyeliner even more than it already had during the show. Maybe it didn’t fucking matter anymore. 

The door opened behind you; Robin’s voice heard above the music as she called out your name. You turned then, pausing as she ran over. 

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

You nodded, but it felt more like a shrug than anything else. “Yeah, I’m good. Just need to leave.” Trying to conceal the sniffle, you scuffed your Converse against the gravel. “Steve and Eddie are back inside. Maybe y’all can go out or something.”

“Without you?”

When you finally made eye contact with Robin, you knew she understood. She was giving you that look, the one that called bullshit without having to actually verbalize it. She knew that you knew. You knew that she knew. 

“I’m actually feeling nauseous, so I think I should go home.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah—” you started before leaning over and puking onto a tree. 

Well, nothing was going to sober you up more than that.

You felt Robin’s hands making sure your hair didn’t get in your face. 

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

You nodded as you stood up again. “Yeah, it’s probably the dab.”

Robin crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at you. “You know, Eddie said you felt sick the other week, too.” 

You looked at her with narrowed eyes. Saying nothing, you wiped the vomit from your mouth. Just say it, Robin,you thought bitterly. Just fucking get it over with. Call me out. I dare you.

“Maybe you should, I don’t know, do something about it,” she said, shrugging. “Say something.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her coded sentence. “Yeah, maybe. Thanks, Robin. Have fun with Eddie and Steve. I’ll see you later.”

Rushing off to your car, you tried to keep your sobs from spilling out from your mouth. And if anyone saw you, well, you couldn’t quite seem to care anymore.

Steve and Robin kept the conversation going as they sat in the little 24/7 diner down the street from The Hidey-Hole. Eddie was bored out of his mind. Robin told him that you got sick from the dab and decided to go home. And, sure, that might be the reason you left. But in the middle of a sentence? In the middle of a conversation? Without saying goodbye?

It wasn’t like you at all.

Eddie tried to focus on shoveling eggs and hash browns into his mouth, washing everything down with black coffee and a helping of chocolate milk. The high was coming down with each bite. He didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t fun if you weren’t there to tell him you didn’t want chocolate milk before stealing his. It wasn’t fun if you weren’t ordering two plates of food and swearing you would finish everything before begging him to eat half of it. 

It just wasn’t fun without you.

Steve nudged him. Eddie looked up reluctantly. He wanted to say something snarky and rude about how Steve was barely paying attention and how stupid it was for him to pretend he had when he kissed him. He wanted to scream at Steve that you were more engaged than he was and what excuse did he have when they were supposed to be going out. He wanted to push his way out of the booth and go track you down.

Instead, he asked, “What?”

Steve pointed up at himself. “Did you like the eyeliner? I think it added a nice touch.”

That had been the first time Eddie even noticed. “Oh, yeah. Yeah,” he stumbled, scrambling for a white lie. “It looks good, dude.”

Eddie didn’t last much longer after that. He waited for the waitress to come by, nearly begging her for his check and getting the fuck out of there before Steve and Robin could suggest going with him. He stalked back to his van, the band already packed up and gone for the night.

With a sense of false hope, he looked over at the spot your car had been in, now taken by someone else. 

Maybe he should’ve ran outside to find you before you slipped away.

When he started out of the parking lot, he could’ve turned on something heavy. Something to make his ears bleed and the fuzz to distract from the incessant thunder and lightning in his head. 

Instead, he searched for that song you sang at karaoke. That Eurythmics one that you adored so much, always a sucker for some dark Eighties-esque synth. The strength of the lead singer, all tough and frustrated before saying the most bittersweet shit he’d ever heard. 

And so, he listened to it, weaving through the streets and banging on his steering wheel with every red light. Road rage turning the thunder and lightning into something more intense, something more vicious. He couldn’t help but wish his lips were on yours as he thanked you for wearing your fishnets and desperately clawed at the garters underneath your dress. Worshipping you in the hush of the night. Without Robin. Without Steve. Without fucking Gertrude.

“And I want you. And I want you. And I want you so it’s an

obsession.”

The lines kept repeating themselves, over and over with each chorus. Echoing his feelings, ruining him from ever escaping these fucking thoughts of something else. A future, a moment in time where he had you and everything was allowed to make sense again. 

“Annie Lennox,” he said, sighing and clucking his tongue. “Fucking Annie Lennox.”

When you stepped inside your apartment that night, you couldn’t help but let out a scream, walking over to the kitchen table and kicking a chair over. Tears slid down your cheeks, gushing and spilling over. None of this was how it was supposed to be. None of this made any fucking sense anymore.

Eddie didn’t want you. He never did.

He wanted Steve. And you didn’t have to like it, but god dammit you had to endure it.

It was so strange, the way he could break you.

You fell to the floor, trying to physically hold yourself together. But you could feel the guitar pick still in the pocket of your dress, growing heavier by the second. You pulled it out and tried to look at it through the tears, accidentally smearing eyeliner on the damn thing.  

Annie Lennox’s voice sat in your skull, repeating her demented lyrics over and over.

            “It’s guilt edged, glamorous, and sleek by design.

            You know it’s jealous by nature, false and unkind. 

            It’s hard and restrained and it’s totally cool.

            It touches and it teases as you stumble in the debris.

            And I want you.”

[believesthings]

Down The Drain// Ted Lasso x Reader

Summary: After a day of training, you decide to help your boyfriend unwind during his nightly shower. 

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Oral Sex 

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re abiding by the new shorts policy.” 

Ted jerks his head up and flashes you one of his sweet smiles. 

“New shorts policy? What are you on about?” 

You widen your eyes at him in mock surprise, “How quickly you forget, Lasso. You’re supposed to get rid of all your pants and only wear shorts from now on.” 

“I don’t remember agreeing to that.” He chuckles lowly at you. 

You shrug at him nonchalantly, “I agreed for you.” You make your way to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Besides, why would you even want to wear pants? It would be an absolute crime to cover up these legs.” 

“Oh, come on now. These old things?” He jokes, twisting his leg around and in the process, flashing you a particularly nice view of his calf under the fluorescent light. 

He leans in and kisses you and once he pulls away he seems - flustered. He mumbles something into your ear that you almost couldn’t hear. “I might need you to help me pick out some new clothes. I wouldn’t wanna go breakin’ any rules.” 

You reach your hand up and run your fingers through his hair, pushing back the little tendril that has a habit of falling in front of his forehead. “I can do that, baby.” 

He turns his head and gives a kiss to your wrist. 

A knock on the office door breaks both of you out of your bubble. 

“Time for training, coach.” Beard is there in the doorway, he gives you a wave, seemingly unfazed by the PDA between the two of you. 

“I’ll see you at home, honey.” 

You give Ted one final kiss and turn to Beard in the doorway, giving him a little salute, which he returns. 

“Have a good practice!” You yell at the two men behind you on your way out the door.

________________________

“Ted! Are you all alright?” 

There was your boyfriend, standing in the doorway, soaking wet. As he started to undo all the layers, you noticed him slightly shivering. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m alright. I’ll tell ya, we had such a great practice - shoot - training today. On the walk home, it started raining-” 

“Yeah, I can tell. Why didn’t you get a car?” You make your way to him, running your hands up and down his arms in a feeble attempt to warm him up. 

“Well, I figured walking would be good, you know. Gives me a chance to really clear my head and I’ve never minded the rain too much - You know it rains an average of 78 days in Kansas? Henry told me that he learned that in his science class.” 

He seemed to break out of his own rambling with his own mention of his son. “Oh shoot! What time is it? I’m supposed to have a facetime with the little man tonight” 

“Ted - there’s plenty of time until your call. For now, I think we should focus on getting you in the shower, washing this rain off of you and getting you warmed up.” 

He stills, stares at you and seems to be really drinking you in. “Well, now that you mention it, I don’t think I realized how truly cold it was until now and it probably would be nice to freshen up before I hop on the call.” 

“Come on. I’ll join you.” You pull him by the hand into the bathroom. 

Once inside, you took your time stripping him of his clothes that you watched him slip into just this morning. Ted kicked off his shoes and took great pleasure in having you remove his shirts, pants, then underwear. He stood before you without a hint of shame - not that he had anything to be ashamed of. But towards the end of his marriage with Michelle, the physical aspect was no longer really there. Plus, when he got together with you, someone at Nelson Road had made a quip about how Ted would have to work extra hard to keep you around since you would be exposed to all of those tanned, toned and sculpted footballers and he was embarrassed to admit that it bothered him more than he expected. It was quite a long road to unpack those insecurities and you’re both still not completely over your doubts, but over time, you had made him feel so incredibly loved and he hoped he was doing the same for you. 

You lifted his legs one at a time, so you could remove his pants and boxer briefs from around his ankles. You gazed up at him and you swore you could see his eyes darken. You couldn’t help but become heated at the implications of your position. You were, after all, kneeling in front of your naked boyfriend. You leaned into him and placed a kiss on his hip bone. Ted let out a low groan as he noticed your mouth moving closer to his growing erection. His heart was racing at the feeling of your warm breath on him, but when he looked down, you were standing back up. 

You give him a knowing look, “I know, honey. But I promised you a shower.” 

He peeled off your clothing - or rather his clothes that you had snuggled yourself into once you got home. He let his own hands slide over your body. He trailed kisses from your shoulder to your neck as you prepared the running water, getting it at just the right temperature, and then steering the two of you underneath the showerhead. For the first few minutes, the two of you held on to each other while the warm water washed over both of your bodies. You helped him wash his hair, taking great care to massage his scalp and press your body against him. He was running his hands over your back and gently massaging the soap into your skin when you finally broke the silence. 

“Ted?” 

“Mmm?” 

You turn to look him in the eyes. “Would you like me to continue what I was doing earlier?” 

He squints his eyes in confusion at you, taking a couple seconds to register what you were referring to. “Oh - I.. Yes, please.” 

You press your lips to his neck and begin sucking on the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. Ted seems to relax then, accepting your actions and he repositions your bodies under the running water. He doesn’t have a ton of sexual experience in this particular location but he’s heard so many stories about how shower sex can be dangerous because of the slippery surface and the last thing he wants is either of you getting hurt. 

You, on the other hand, seem to show no signs of slowing down. You lick and kiss the wet skin of his neck, running your hands over his chest and down to his stomach until you are once again keeling in front of him. Just like you did before, you run your mouth and tongue over his hip bone. As your mouth works closer and closer to his erection, you put your hands to work, gripping the base of his cock and stroking him. 

Ted groans at the contact and tries to will his eyes to stay open and on you. Partially, because, ever the gentleman, he wants to watch out and make sure you’re not having second thoughts - but also because he was thrilled at the prospect of watching you perform this incredibly intimate act on him. 

You began by tentatively kissing the tip of his erection, not too much but given how aroused Ted was, it was enough to make him tilt his head back and groan. Taking his actions as a sign of encouragement, you start taking less innocent kisses up and down the length of him. After he was sure your lips had made contact with about every inch of him - you finally put your tongue to work. You slowly ran your tongue over his cock from base to tip and back again, which earned you a deep moan from an increasingly aroused Ted, who ran his fingers over your hair as your name escaped him in a rather breathy whisper. This only seemed to spur you on more as you gripped him more firmly and began to slip the tip of his cock between your lips. 

Ted balled his hands into fists and he fought the urge to thrust further in your mouth. He used one hand to brace himself on the shower wall and kept his other hand firmly on you, stroking your scalp gently. 

Ted loved going down on you and did it quite frequently over the course of your relationship, he had told you how arousing he found it, to have his mouth on you and every time you returned the favor, you could easily understand what he meant. There was something about hearing those noises come out of the man you love and knowing that you were responsible for them that aroused you so fucking much. Being in control of his pleasure was definitely satisfying for you and for him. You found yourself moaning with him, the sound reverberating against his cock, which only caused him to moan more. 

You swirled your tongue over the tip of him and could briefly taste the precum. You looked up and were once again met with his darkened eyes peeking out from under his shower soaked hair over his forehead - with his mouth open, gasping and moaning, you watch as he spits out the water that makes its way into his mouth. He gives you a little nod of encouragement and you briefly break away, catching your breath. He was, after all, the biggest man you had ever been with. You knew he was close though so you didn’t make him wait long before you began moving your head back and forth and sucking him off. At first your actions were fairly tender, only really focusing on his tip, but as your actions went on, your confidence grew, and you took more and more of him in, swirling your tongue as you moved in and creating a tight suction against his cock as you moved out. Once you settled into a comfortable rhythm, you brought your hands into the mix, moving the hand you had at the base of cock in tandem with your mouth. 

To Ted, the world had completely faded away. The only thing that existed in this moment was feeling your mouth and the pleasure you were giving him. As your actions became more confident and less gentle, his pleasure became even more intense. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his body in check. Once your hands entered into the equation, he was well and truly, a goner. He began involuntarily pumping his hips forward to meet your mouth. As he felt his climax reaching, he tried to speak to warn you but you seemed to be more in tune with his body than he was. You noticed his ragged breathing and gathered he was closely approaching his end. 

Instead of slowing down, you only seemed to redouble your efforts, bringing as much of his length into your mouth as you can handle. As you felt him thrust in your mouth, you continued to suck and swirl your tongue harder. Ted, threw his head back and groaned. You could feel his cock pulsate as his warm wetness filled your mouth. You began to swallow and were gearing to stop until you heard the words above you - 

“Don’t stop, baby please.” 

At his words, your hands and mouth resumed their previous actions until his hips slowed down and stopped moving entirely. His arms were braced on either side of the shower walls, at this point he was sure it was the only thing keeping him vertical. He focused on catching his breath while you were beneath him, wiping the excess wetness from your mouth. Doing this for him, making him feel this way always gave you a sense of exhilaration that you loved. You took a few seconds to catch your own breath before looking up at your lover again. His eyes were closed this time, but the look on his face could only be described as pure bliss. 

“Was that okay?” you ask in a small, teasing voice. 

Ted opened his eyes and looked down at you on the shower floor, “You kidding me? That was amazing. Out of this world, Darling” 

He embraces you into his chest once again, “Come on, let’s finish up in here so I can return the favor.” 

He rinses you both off quickly and you get to work brushing your teeth, he seems ready to whisk you away into bed the minute you put down your toothbrush but you stop him. “Ah - not yet, Romeo. You have a facetime call with Henry, remember?” 

“Right. Yes -” 

And as if on cue, his phone is ringing with an incoming video call as Henry’s picture fills the screen. 

“As soon as this call is over, Darling, I just want you to know that I am taking you into bed, and I’m going to spend my night taking you apart.” 

Your face heats at his words. “Noted, Lasso. I can’t wait.” 

[wlntrsldler]

Hiiiiii!!!! I love Apple Pie by Lizzy McAlpine!! Can I get Jamie Tartt to apple pie?

apple pie | jamie tartt

based on the song apple pie by lizzy mcalpine

description: jamie gets insecure sometimes, but having you with him helps.

pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (f!reader she/her)

warnings: lots of kissing, self-doubt, insecurities, mention of jamie's dad

word count: 2631

ted lasso requests are open | main masterlist

When Jamie first got into a relationship with you, he knew that both of your busy schedules would pose a problem down the road. With his football career seemingly reaching new peaks every season and your acting career taking off after being cast in what is being called “the film that revived the dying genre of romantic comedies,” the amount of time you get to spend with each other decreased significantly since the start of your relationship. 

You first met Jamie halfway through his returning season at AFC Richmond. You met him at a birthday dinner party for a friend of a friend where you relentlessly teased him for his ridiculous, but outstanding performance, on Lust Conquers All. You had originally praised him for it when you were fully under the impression that he was putting on an act. You didn’t find out that he was just being his prick-ish self, albeit his younger prick-ish self, until about four months into your relationship when he embarrassedly admitted it to you. That’s how you found yourself rewatching the entire season together on his couch until 2 hours before Roy knocked on his door for his training session. 

At first, Jamie thought you were making fun of him. His insecurities would still peek in here and there and sometimes he couldn’t help but worry that you’d see him as nothing more than a dumb footballer like everyone else does. He quickly realized, though, that while you were losing your mind laughing at how he acted in the show, making fun of him was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“Why’d ya wanna watch this shit anyways?” he grumbled, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. “It’s just poopy. ‘M not even like that anymore.” 

“I know,” you sat up, pausing the show when you heard his voice crack. You knew the tone of Jamie’s voice when he was cracking jokes and when he was happy, and this voice wasn’t one or the other. You turned your body to face him, “I know you aren’t like this anymore, I just thought it would be funny.” 

“I dunno, I suppose it doesn’t make much sense to me.” 

“What doesn’t?” you questioned. “Why I want to watch it?” 

“Yeah,” Jamie replied. His eyes were looking at everything but at you. He was playing with the threads of the blanket loosely draped over his legs. He rubbed his nose with his balled-up fist. “Why does it matter how I was before you? I’m better now, yeah? Unless you don’t think so...” 

“Oh, love,” you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you. You were so engrossed in the episode on the TV that you didn’t realize how uncomfortable Jamie was feeling about the whole situation. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention to how you were feeling about this. We can stop watching it.” 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He hummed, tugging on your hoodie to pull you closer to him. “I just don’t want you to see how I used to be and realize you don’t want to be with a prick like that, even if I have changed, you know? I don’t know… I just thought that with ya, I’d have a fresh start.” 

“Jamie Tartt, enough of that now,” You took over being the big spoon, which made Jamie nuzzle into your neck contently, “You have changed. You’re an amazing man and the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. I only wanted to watch this show because it’s such a shitty show that it’s nice to just unwind. When I watch this Jamie on the screen, my brain can’t even comprehend that it’s you.” 

“You don’t think I’m a prick anymore, yeah?” Jamie asked again, hoping that he’d get a confirmation, “Like you wouldn’t leave me over that?”

You’ve learned over the past few months things about Jamie– one of which is that he needs to be told positive things or else he’d spiral. The thing is, if you could go into his mind and turn off that control box that spews self-doubt and insecurities to him, you would do it in a heartbeat. But since you can’t, you were more than happy to shower him with love and adoration in hopes that your voice can drown the rest of them out. 

“Never,” you placed your lips on his in a soft kiss. “You’d have to work a hell of a lot harder to get rid of me.” 

“I’m working double overtime just so you’d keep me, love,” he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss. His hand reached for the remote to turn the TV off to leave you both in the glow of the floor lamp in his living room. 

“You don’t have to work hard for that.” 

Jamie had gotten used to having you around his flat. He would leave for 4 AM training with Roy with you on his bed, often naked, then return at around 6:30 AM to shower and join you back in bed for another hour before you woke up. He’d wake up for the second time that day with you drawing patterns on his chest and a soft smile on your face. He’d lean over and place a loving kiss on your lips and he’d feel prepared to start the day. 

You were filming a show in London for three months, which meant that for three months, this was Jamie’s life. In between projects, you stayed at his place. For two weeks after the wrap party, you came home to him, visited him at the facility, and went to all the team outings, home games, and away games with him. He was with you 24/7 and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He didn’t realize how he took it for granted until filming ended.

Three weeks ago, you flew to New York City to begin filming another movie. With training and games, Jamie hasn’t been able to take time off to visit you, and with filming just starting, you couldn’t fly back to Richmond either. 

Jamie was doing fine– as fine as someone can be when their daily routine was abruptly disrupted. He was proud of you. The premise of the movie seemed perfect for you and was a seamless continuation of the romantic comedy trend you were on. People were buzzing for your next project, especially after your last one was so well received. He was so proud of you…. But he also missed you. 

During the three weeks that you were gone, you and Jamie still texted each other constantly and FaceTimed everyday, despite the crazy time difference. He wanted to make it work, and so did you, so you did what you could to stay in touch. While not being able to hold you and kiss you for three weeks was killing Jamie, he was glad he was still able to spend time with you. Things didn’t get to Jamie until Jan Maas made an off-handed comment about it.

All of them were packing up after training, feeling extremely antsy with the Man City match on the horizon, Jamie especially. There were a lot of things on his mind, including the possibility of seeing his father, who he hadn’t seen since Wembley, and playing against his old team was always a trip. In short, he wasn’t feeling his best and the fact that you weren’t nearby made it worse. 

“Jamie, we have not seen Y/N in a while,” Sam noted, “Is everything okay with you two?” 

“She’s filming a movie in New York, bruv,” Isaac replied before Jamie could speak, “Right, Tartt?” 

Jamie nodded, putting his shirt over his head, “Yeah. She’ll be gone for a few months, at least.” 

“I do not know how you’re gonna survive, Jamie,” Jan Maas said. “You are so clingy when it comes to her. I don’t think you can make it all those months.” 

The rest of the team chuckled at Jan’s teasing tone, but Jamie furrowed his eyebrows in thought. Was he clingy? He frowned as he continued to put his things away. He picked up his phone from his cubby, smiling when he received a few messages from you while he was at training. As he was about to respond, Jan’s comment made him stop in his tracks. 

Maybe it would be best to let you have a night to yourself. You had a life outside of him and you deserve to be able to live it without having him cling to you all the time. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, slipping his phone in his back pocket, before walking out of the locker room to head to his place. 

When you woke up to no text from Jamie, you assumed that he was just worn out from training and didn’t have the energy to reply. You’ve seen the intense training he went through, so you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. But as the day went on and there was still no word from Jamie– you’d even checked the timezone clock on your phone to make sure you weren’t being unreasonable– you began to worry. FaceTime calls went unanswered and instead, you were met with the Apple automated response, “Sorry, can’t talk right now.” 

To: lover boy <3

“Hi, love. Got some exciting news, you free to chat? Xx” 

By the time you were boarding the plane to Manchester, Jamie still hadn’t texted you back. After begging the producers to give you a week off filming, they finally agreed. You asked for this week in particular, knowing that you wanted to be there for Jamie for the Man City match. There was a lot on the line for Jamie and you wanted to be there for him no matter what happened. 

The entire plane ride back to England was filled with dread and anxiety. It wasn’t like Jamie to not respond. Unless he was at a game, training, or sleeping, but even then he had a special ringtone for you that wakes him up whenever you called, he always replied to your messages as soon as possible. When you landed, everything that could go wrong went wrong. Your plane was stuck on the tarmac for an hour because there were problems with the gate. Your luggage got delayed which left you sitting at baggage claim for another 45 minutes. When you finally arrived at the hotel the team was staying at– shoutout to Ted for being yours and Jamie’s number one supporter and telling you where they were staying– Jamie was nowhere to be found. 

You dragged your luggage to Jamie’s room, plopping on the bed tiredly. You glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. 9:28 PM. Ted mentioned that there was a 10 PM curfew so you hoped that tonight was not one of the nights where Jamie decided to break the rules. Ted also mentioned that Jamie has not been himself lately, which did nothing to soothe your panic. You hopped in the shower to rinse yourself from the long day you’ve had. You did your night routine and dug into Jamie’s bag to retrieve his AFC Richmond hoodie. Before putting it on, you held it up to your nose, sighing as your senses were filled with Jamie. You missed him. 

It was 9:57 PM when you heard the door unlock. You were on his bed, scrolling aimlessly on social media, when you saw him. You sat up, shutting your phone off. He walked in with his head low. His shoulders were hunched over a bit, but he looked okay. He looked better than how Ted described him. 

He kicked off his shoes, before looking at you on his bed, startled. His eyes widened, first in fear that there was someone in his room, then in surprise that it was you in his room. His lips curved down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in sadness. 

“Baby,” you whispered, moving to the side of the bed to make room for him. 

Jamie knew that he needed to not be clingy. He didn’t want to bother you too much. He was trying to be cool. But when you called him “baby,” with that voice, in his hoodie on his bed, his resolve crumbled to pieces.

He ran to you, nearly tackling you off the bed when he engulfed you in his arms. He buried his face in your neck, a mix of your lotion and the cologne he sprays on his clothes surrounding him. You cradled the back of his head, mumbling how much you missed him into his shoulder. Jamie could cry. He hasn’t seen you in so long, but here you are now. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked when he finally pulled away from you. He couldn’t stray too far though. His arm was still wrapped around you while you cuddled into his side. “I thought you were in New York.” 

“Well, if you bothered to answer my texts,” you trailed off, faking a voice of sadness. You poked his side, “You would’ve seen that I had exciting news. The producers gave me a week off after begging them since I first got to New York and this week is perfect because I know tomorrow’s match is gonna be a lot for you. I wanted to be here for you, whatever the outcome is.” 

“Oh.” Jamie was speechless. Here he was ignoring you like a prick while you were planning to come back just to be here for him. He didn’t deserve you. 

“Yeah,” you continued, “If tomorrow we celebrate, I’ll be here making sure that you drink enough water so that your hangover the next day won’t be too much. If tomorrow we try to never think about it again, I’ll sit next to you on the bus in silence holding your hand and when we get home we can do the same thing.” 

Home. You were here and he felt like he was home. 

“I missed you so much,” Jamie sighed. He kissed you all over your face, giving your lips extra attention. “‘M sorry if I was bothering you by texting and calling so much over the last few weeks… I just missed you loads and I wanted to talk to you.” 

“Baby, you didn’t text and call me enough,” you played with his hair, running your fingers through the strands. “If it was possible, I would stay on a call with you all day, everyday. Can’t get enough of ya.” 

He smiled, his worries disappearing with every word you said, “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, I love you, Jamie Tartt.” You kissed him deeply. “Couldn’t get tired of you even after a million years. Now, catch me up! Tell me everything.” 

Jamie, feeling like himself again, began to tell you everything you missed over the last few weeks– meeting Sam’s father, meeting Ted’s mum, Roy and Keeley, and seeing his mum earlier that night, which is why he came home late. He talked about how a visit to Georgie and Simon helped lift his spirits, and how Georgie was gushing about you and asking him when you’ll come to visit again. 

Then he talked about his fears for tomorrow and everything that’s been piling up on him ever since you left. As he spoke, you rubbed his back comfortingly, a small reminder that you’ll always be here no matter what. 

Jamie knew that he still had a lot of work to do. He knew that his insecurities could get the best of him sometimes and it can cause him to push back on people who love and care about him, but he was trying. You believed in him and that’s all he needed.

[someplace-darker]

In The Static | Ted Lasso

Pairing: Ted Lasso x reader (no y/n) Wordcount: 2.1k Warnings: panic attack/talks of panic attacks, vague mentions of trauma. That's about it I think, it's a touch angst and hurt/comfort I suppose. Fluff. Summary: Ted thought he was past his panic attacks until he encounters another, and you follow him to make sure he's okay. A/N: "now jay" you might be saying "wasn't the last thing you posted smut almost a year ago?" and the answer is yes. But i've recently become insanely attached to Ted Lasso, and I dipped my toe into writing more than a wip. SO here's my middle aged white man of the month. Enjoy :)

“REFEREE!!!” Keeley stands with a force that causes her to latch onto your arm to keep from falling forward. It continues to astound you that for such a tiny lady, she really contains an insane amount of spunk. One of the opposing team’s men had just slid Sam’s legs out from under himself, causing him to land hard on his shoulder. The game had been a rough one so far, more aggressive and bitter than most. Richmond had been respectful at first (as per usual) but the second their opponents had started playing violent and dirty, that changed.

Roy and Beard were obviously shouting and pointing angrily, though you couldn’t make out what they were saying from your seat in the box. Ted, however, was standing stiffly with his balled fists shoved into the pockets of his Richmond zip-up. You can feel that something is off. Even if you can’t see his face, you know him well enough to read his body language. There’s mere minutes left in the game and the teams are tied.

Rebecca is already standing and gathering her belongings to head back in, gesturing for the lot of you to follow. That’s exactly what you begin to do before the crowd goes ape-shit, jumping from their seats and screaming so loud it makes your head thrum. 

“ROJAS INTERCEPTS THE KICK AND PASSES TO TARTT AND JUST LIKE THAT-”

You turn just in time to watch Jamie kick the ball into the net, the stadium erupting in cheers that shake the ground.

“AFC RICHMOND TAKES ANOTHER VICTORY 2-1 IN A SHOCKING LAST SECOND SCORE”

Keeley, Higgins, and Rebecca rejoice, grabbing at each other in shock. Placing your fingers between your lips you let out a piercing whistle, jumping up and down as thousands of chants echo. You look down to your coaches, expecting to see all three soaking in the sweet relief of not gaining another loss. Instead, you see Ted darting for the locker room, head down with his phone held two inches from his face. It was obvious to you that he was trying to use it as a cover. 

“I’ll meet back with you guys later, I’ve gotta check something real quick.” 

They smile and wave you off, relishing in the buzzing excitement clearly felt throughout the facility. As much as you wish you could join them in celebration, you were pretty sure Ted needed you more. So you slip through the small crowds with ease, having much practice during your time with Richmond, taking the back staircase to the locker room hallway. 

At first you check his office, finding only his jacket laying on the floor. The second spot you search is the right one, opening the door to darkness. You almost turn and leave but a staggered breath gives him away. 

“Ted?” you whisper, stepping into the boot room and closing the door gently. He sniffles almost silently and hums in response, curling in on himself when the lights flicker on at your touch.. You’ve never seen him look so small before, his entire body condensed into half of his height in the corner of the room, the sight moving you to shut the lights back off for his sake.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, walking over to kneel in front of him. He has his head placed between his knees, hands on the back of head with his fingers intertwined tightly. As much as you know of his panic attacks, you’ve never been present for one. Something tells you he tends to keep it that way with everyone around him. 

However, you’re well versed with them yourself.

“I’m gonna sit beside you, but I won’t touch you unless you say it’s okay.”

You lower yourself onto the ground, the floor cold beneath your already freezing ass. England's weather was not kind to the warm blooded. Ted doesn’t lift his head all the way, simply angles it towards you just enough for an eye to peek out from behind his arm. He looks at you with the gaze of a wounded puppy, eyes red and wet, smeared with warm tears.

The silence that follows is deafening, a faint ringing the only thing you hear. Ted looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it. It’s not like you can blame him. The last time he opened up to someone he considered close about his panic attacks, it ended up plastered on every magazine and tabloid across the country. Trust within himself and others had been fractured- not broken. No one could ever betray Coach Lasso enough to break that within him, it was fundamental to who he was as a person.

After a few more minutes of silence his foot slides over to yours, just barely nudging it. He lifts his head and sniffles, using his sleeve to wipe the mix of tears and snot off his face.

“I want to tell you about it, I do. I’m just… stuck. Feels like if I tell you, it’ll be too much,” he murmurs, keeping his foot pressed to yours.

“I understand, Ted,” you whisper. “I started having panic attacks before I was even a teenager. I’d been through things- rough things -and they plagued me for years.” He begins to unfurl himself, listening intently to every word you say, the blatant honesty and vulnerability easing his anxiety. “It took me a while to open up to anyone about them, let alone a therapist. I spent so long trying to hide them, that when I finally did get help I felt like a fake.” 

Ted adjusts himself to sit up straighter, shimmying closer so your shoulders touch. You can tell he’s trying to be inconspicuous about it, but the man is known to be anything but subtle.  Outside you can hear the boys begin filing into the hallway, headed for the locker room surely for some type of victory activity. Their shadows dance across the wall in the darkened boot room, slashed into segments by the blinds slanted slightly open. Both of you seemed to have held your breaths as they passed, because as soon as they’re gone there’s a simultaneous exhale of relief.

An amused breath comes from Ted, palm pressing from the corner of his eye to the tip of his cheekbone to wipe away the stray tears. He knocks his knee against yours and dares to glance at you, opening up enough to make eye contact. Here in this room, he looks more human than you think you’ve ever seen him. For the most part he keeps his mood insanely optimistic, tending to care more about others happiness than his own. It gave him an almost otherworldly bounce to his step and light to his eyes. 

But now that he’s sat no more than two inches in front of you with puffy eyes and a chewed lip, Ted is just… a broken man. 

“You’ll never be too much, Ted. It’s normal to feel stuck, and it’s okay to not be able to talk about it yet.” His eyes flick to your hand when you lift it towards him, a lifeline of trust, openness in the form of warm skin and an upward facing palm. Internal conflict tugs at his lungs, his breath hitching as he weighs his options for all of five seconds before taking your hand. You are someone Ted knows he can always find solace in. 

Someone who he could spot in a crowd of thousands, someone who he will always seek out. 

His other hand reaches to pat the top of yours, rubbing his thumb against your skin in soothing circles. A shuddered breath begins to pass his lips, but he smothers it to ashes with the cool press of a kiss to your wrist. 

Humming amusedly at the feeling of his mustache tickling your skin, you lean your head on his shoulder, moving slightly as they lift with the intake of air into his lungs. “I suppose you’re right. I just feel bad that I haven’t spoken to you ‘bout it,” he tsk’s softly to himself, carefully navigating his brain for the right words. 

“I was fine out there, y’know? I’ve been doin’ better, Sharon’s helped a lot. But it just got so loud, and everything felt out of my control- out of any of our boys’ control and I- I just couldn’t breathe. Tunnel vision, boom, just like that.”

You whisper encouragements softly under your breath, murmurs of ‘it’s okay’ and ‘you can keep going’ pushing him gently in the right direction. Voices can be heard from the locker room, loud cheering and chanting from the team acting as muffled background noise for Ted’s moment of vulnerability. 

“After everything that happened with Nate, I learned to mask it a bit better I guess. That’s the fancy word Doc told me about,” the corner of his lips quirks up “I figured I’d be okay in here for a bit anyway, then you walked in.” Your brows furrow and you pull away from his shoulder, opening your mouth to apologize for intruding but he beats you to it.

“No, no, that sounded different than I meant. I am very glad that you found me here. I needed you even if I didn’t know it,” he traces the details of your face with his eyes, not stopping you when you move your head back down to his shoulder. 

“I think you’ve worked on it so much quicker than you realize, Ted. It wasn’t that long ago, yeah? Healing and improving takes time, and it’s okay that it takes time. I certainly took my time,” you muse, channeling your own therapist’s word. “But I think it’s right on par with who you are, who I know you to be, that you got on it as fast as you did. Even if it was begrudgingly at first.”

“Yeah, Doc definitely had her work cut out.”

You laugh, normally at first but then Ted snorts and you both lose it, bodies bumping against each other with the shakes that come with post-meltdown laughs. Soon enough you’re both wiping away tears of a different variety, the air in the room much lighter than before. You take that moment to push yourself up and off the floor, lending a hand to Ted to pull him up.

“I am immensely proud of you, Coach Lasso. So is the team. You have a very large family backing you up, as unorthodox as said family is.” You take one step closer, hand still holding onto his, pressed between your bodies. Taking your free hand, you hold the side of his face and lean in to kiss his cheek, thumb stroking his jaw. 

Ted presses into your lips, chasing your touch even when you turn to the door. Twisting the knob open you find Will standing there, boots tied by their laces hanging over his shoulder, hand outreached to grab the now absent handle. 

He blinks at the two of you for a second, gaze one of vague shock, before curling his lips in an embarrassed smile and stepping out of the way.

“Not a word, Will,” you sing-song when he opens his mouth, pulling Ted down the hall to stand outside of the locker room door. 

You can hear Roy in the middle of a somehow happy/angry sounding congratulation speech that only he is capable of, grinning and turning to face your Coach once more. “Now, get your butt in there and relish in the sweet taste of winning.”

“I mean, relish is pretty tasty-”

“Ted.”

“Yep,” Ted takes a deep breath and nods, squeezing your hand “you coming in with me?” 

“I don’t want to intrude on your moment, Coach.”

He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and pushes the door open, dragging you with him. The boys’ faces light up, immediately rushing to storm him, all reaching to touch him and jumping up and down. Their team song buzzing and bouncing along with them.

“WE’RE RICHMOND TILL WE DIE, WE’RE RICHMOND TILL WE DIE, WE KNOW WE ARE, WE’RE SURE WE ARE, WE’RE RICHMOND TILL WE DIE”

You slide past the group, safely reaching Roy and Beard without your feet being stomped on. The smile on your face is one of pure joy and contentment, not faltering when Beard slides to your side, bumping your elbow. 

“Thanks,” he speaks, nodding towards Ted. It’s easy to know what he means immediately, always one to be of few words. 

“No need to thank me,” you reply easily, watching your family bond even more “it’s what we do.”

[axelsagewrites]

Jan Maas*Buttercup

Pairing: Jan x pregnant!reader

Word count: 2479

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, morning sickness, petty arguments, mentions of childbirth but nothing detailed, Jan being the biggest girl dad ever

Requested by @hypocritic-trash-baby (sorry it took sooo long)

Masterlist Here

There were many, and you meant many, downsides to working in a pub but one of the upsides just walked in. the Richmond coach Ted lasso and beard came in pretty regularly already but recently Dani, Sam, and Jan had also become regulars with the latter being the only thing you can think about. Jan mass was tall, handsome, and his jersey number was 13 which was basically fate since it was your lucky number.

“Hello,” his adorable Dutch accent greeted you as Sam and Danni claimed a table. “Three pints please,”

“Hiya and no problem,” you grinned, already holding the first pint in your hand since you knew their order by heart not that it was hard to remember, “How are you?”

“Better now,” he smiled, sipping on the first pint you slid him. “I was wondering if I may ask you something?” he asked, his smile dropping for a second as he glanced to his friends.

You tilted your head but smiled anyway, “Course you can. What’s up buttercup?”

Jan chuckled at this, always finding your expressions funny for some unknown reason to you. however, everyone on the team knew why. The boy was absolutely smittened by you. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

You almost choked on the pint you weren’t even drinking and for a second his smile faltered before you quickly began to splutter, “Well yes that sounds I mean yes I think I mean fuck-“ you paused, sitting the final pint down before smiling, “I’d like that yes,”

“Okay great,” he said but it came out as a laugh, “Could I pick you up tomorrow? Say seven o’clock?”  he asked as he handed you the money for the drinks.

“Seven. Perfect. I can meet you here if you’d like?”

“Okay,” he said, picking up the tray of drinks before adding, “Buttercup,” with a large grin.

You watched him walk to the table for a moment before turning to Mae, “Could you- “

“Yes, I’ll cover your shift you little pest,” she rolled her eyes before finally grinning, “Told you he bloody fancied you,” As she said this however cheers came from the Richmond players who were now patting a very happy look Jan mass on the back.

-

The first date had gone so well you woke up in his apartment the next morning before he whisked you out for breakfast and a second date. You didn’t actually sleep in your own apartment for the first four days after the date you were that wrapped up. Thank god for the off season.

Jan mass was everything you could hope for. He was sweet, kind, honest, and downright gorgeous which helped. You had been dating for 8 months now before the first problem arose. Sure, you had had petty arguments, but this was far more serious. Two pink lines stared back at you in the bathroom.

“Honey, I need to leave now or ill be late!” Jan Mass called through the flat you had now moved into with him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” you called back, wrapping the stick up in a ton of toilet paper before stashing it in the back of the bathroom cabinet behind the spare toilet rolls. You’d deal with it later you told yourself as you quickly washed your hands and pressed the cold backs of them to your eyes to try depuff them.

You ran out the bathroom with a forced smile, but Jan mass was angrily pacing the room, “I cannot be late,”

“We won’t be late,”

“We will,” you began to bicker as you both ran out the building to the car. The whole way there he complained as you drove, but you saw the way his leg was bouncing. After all each of these games were important if they wanted to make it back to the premier league but his constant petty jabs were not helping the delicate situation.

When you arrived at Richmond he basically ran out of the car, ditching you to find a parking space. Technically he’d been right but by the time you parked he was only 3 minutes late but only to the recommended early start time Ted recommended to get them ready.

After another quick cry in your car, you headed up to Rebecca’s office to meet her and Keeley. “You alright babes?” Keeley asked, her head tilting like a puppies when she saw your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine just allergies,” you smiled. Somehow you managed to dodge the rest of their questions as you headed to the stands.

“Look at your man,” Keeley grinned, nudging you as Jan Mass ran onto the field. You smiled lightly and just nodded making her sigh. “What happened babes?”

“Nothing- its just he was being annoying today that’s all,” you tried to assure her, but she gave you that look like Rebecca screamed her team on. “He was just getting all bitchy cause he thought we were gonna be late,”

“Maybe he’s on his period,” she joked, and you felt your stomach drop as you tried to laugh along.

Richmond tied, again, which even though was technically a good thing was just starting to get everybody down. You’d decided to head home before Jan and when he arrived you were in no mood to talk to him. Especially not since morning sickness decided to hit your mid game instead of the expected 8am.

By the time you made it home you honestly just felt like crap and collapsed onto the bed. At some point you must’ve fallen asleep because when you woke up Jan was sat beside you on the bed stroking your back. “Hey,” you muttered, your head falling back onto the pillow.

“I’m sorry. For earlier. I shouldn’t have snapped,” Jan said as he moved to lay in front of you, wrapping his arms around you, “Everything has just been so stressful you know? especially with another tie,” he half laughed but you knew it had been weighing on him, “You disappeared half way thought though. I thought you’d already left but I saw you just before we finished,”

You tried your best to smile but you could tell he didn’t believe you, “Just didn’t feel very well but id never miss a game. You know me,”

“I do,” he smiled, wrapping his arms tight around you and bringing you into his chest, “My little trooper,”

-

You knew you should’ve told him, but you didn’t know how. As you searched online for ways to tell him you fell down a rabbit hole of unhappy reactions. He was already so stressed with football a baby wasn’t exactly going to help with that or fit into his busy schedule. What happens if he has an away match when you’re in labour? Or if he wasn’t ready to settle down? Or if it throws him off his game?

Eventually you snapped under the weight of it all and broke down and told Keeley. She came over in a heartbeat to help you hug it out and try get you excited. “We should go baby shopping!” she said suddenly grabbing your arm, “Cmon it’d be so cute! We can pick up a baby Richmond jersey or something,”

“Okay alright,” you laughed as you tried to pick yourself off the couch to get ready, “And thanks for coming over, babes. It’s just been so hard wrapping my mind around it,”

“I know babes,” Keeley said as you both got ready to leave. You sent Jan a quick text saying you would be back around 5 since he was still at practise, “But hey once you tell him it’ll be a thousand times easier,”

“I hope so,”

“I know so,”

-

Shopping defiantly helped lift your spirit and Keeley even agreed to stash the baby things at her place, but you did take the baby Richmond jersey with you and stuffed it in the bottom of your handbag. You came home all smiles as you opened the front door. “Honey I’m home,” you jokingly called as you tossed your keys in the bowl by the door. “You home yet?”

“In here,” Jan called from the bathroom. You sat your bag down and wandered to the open door, seeing Jan standing in front of the sink looking at something. “I was looking for bandages,” he said softly as you walked in and went to wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek into his back.

“Oh no are you okay?”

“Yeah um. I hurt my ankle a bit but its fine. What is this?” he asked, his voice coloured in shock however when you looked past him the colour drained from your face.

You started to stutter, all the joy vanishing when you saw his blank expression. “It’s a pregnancy test,” you eventually managed to say, swallowing the lump in your throat.

You unwrapped your arms around him as he turned to face you. “And its positive?” he asked as if he wasn’t holding the literal evidence in his hands.

“Yes,” you said, your eyes falling to the floor as you felt them start to well up.

Jan sat the test down and you have expected him to push past you and straight out the door. but instead, his hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs rubbed over the tops of your cheeks, “I love you. so much. I cannot wait to meet them,” he whispered as you noticed his own teary eyes.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little as you lent up to kiss him, “I was scared to tell you,”

“Why?”

“Encase you hated me,” you confessed, seeing his face fill with guilt, “I didn’t want to ruin you career or throw you off- “

“Football is a job,” he interrupted, “one that yes, I love and yes has become my life. But you are my family. never for a second think you don’t come first,” he said before he tightened his arms around you and you allowed yourself to cry into his chest while he stroked your hair, “We’ll make it work baby. We always will,”

After a few moments you pulled away, “You wanna see what I bought?” you asked while leading him into the living room to get the tiny jersey out the bag.

You turned and showed it to Jan who’s smile somehow got even wider, “See,” he said as he took the jersey, “How could you possibly ruin anything? We’re going to have another player on the team,” he said, and you both laughed this time.

-

You did however make him promise not to tell anyone about the baby however keeping it a secret was hard. Jan’s birthday was coming up however and with the whole team really needing a chance to blow off some steam you both decided to invite them over and tell them at the same time.

The players had completely taken over your flat, every seat was taken and half of them were sat on the floor. Jan however made sure you had a seat. As everyone was sat around the room Ted stood up to give a birthday toast to Jan. “So, a very happy birthday to you my friend,” Ted finished his speech, all the boys giving a small cheer or a clap.

Jan stood up from where he’d been sitting next to you on the couch to take Teds place at the front of the room, “I would also like to thank you all for coming however I have a confession,” he said, looking at you with a wide smile, “I have an announcement to make,”

“Now you better not be quitting on us,” Ted joked making you and Jan both chuckle.

Keeley sent you an excited grin when she realised what was happening, “I’m not going anywhere,” he laughed, “No actually there is someone coming to meet the team. And they are very special to me, so I hope you love them just as much as I do,”

“Is it Zava?” someone asked causing a flurry of conversations and a very loud ‘shut it’ from Roy.

“Someone even better,” Jan said once he finally had their attention again. He pulled the tiny jersey out of his back pocket and held it up, “We’re having a baby,”

To say the team erupted in cheers was an understatement. You were suddenly being hugged by about 20 different footballers all at once who were all congratulating you both. Even Roy gave you a hug it was wild.

-

However, it was not easy being pregnant. Especially not when your stomach suddenly became the size of a large watermelon that weighed what felt like 100lbs. between the stress of Jan’s job and the constant pressure on your bladder and joints there was defiantly some struggles but some how some way you managed and now you were holding a baby girl in your arms.

“She’s so beautiful,” Jan whispered as he sat beside you on the bed. “Just like her mother,”

As you leaned in for a brief soft kiss a nurse knocked on the door, “Hi you have um some visitors?” she said making you look at Jan.

“Who did you tell?” you sighed but he just gave you a sorry smile. “How many are out there?” you asked.

The nurse popped her head out and did a brief count before giving you a sorry look, “20ish people?”

You groaned but internally smiled since you knew your daughter would be surrounded by love. You turned to Jan, “Two at a time. two minutes each. No one gets to hold her, but they get to see her,” he nodded and instantly got up to fulfil your wishes.

The first in were Roy and Keeley. Keeley instantly rushed to give you a hug on the side that you weren’t holding your daughter while Roy slowly wandered over to look down at the small bundle in your arms. “She’s fucking beautiful she is,” he said, voice choked with tears making you and Keeley chuckle.

Jan however was less than impressed, “Hey! Language,” he said rolling his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry. Effing beautiful,” you let that one slide, however. Half an hour later the whole team had finally met her and were content enough to finally leave though they all left some kind of gift for her ranging from baby cleats she wouldn’t be able to wear for months to a massive panda bear from Isaac.

Finally, though it was just you, Jan and your baby again. “Can I take her?” he asked and you of coursed passed her over, “Hi baby,” he cooed as he held her to his chest. “I love you so much. Both of you,” he added, kissing the top of your head.

You smiled up at him, watching how he awed over your daughter. “I love you too,”

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