#tartt9

[nameless-jamie]

Offside Tension - Jamie Tartt x Y/N

Masterlist - Next Chapter

Chapter 2: Clash on the Pitch

The air was crisp, and the first rays of sunlight peeked over the tops of the training grounds as Y/N unlocked the door and stepped onto the pitch. It was only her second day at Richmond, and she’d made sure to arrive early, determined to hit the ground running.

The grass was still damp with morning dew, and the faint smell of freshly cut turf lingered in the air. The silence was peaceful, even calming, though her nerves hadn’t entirely settled. She jogged to the middle of the pitch, taking in its vastness. It was hers now too, in a way, though the thought was both exciting and intimidating.

The sound of a door opening behind her broke her train of thought.

“Y’know,” Coach Beard’s voice called out, “most people don’t show up this early—especially not on day two.”

She turned to see him strolling across the pitch, a steaming mug of coffee in hand and a faintly amused look on his face.

“I’m not most people,” Y/N said with a grin, trying to let her confidence outshine the lingering second-day jitters.

Beard tilted his head slightly, appraising her. “Ted mentioned you’re ambitious. That’s good. Just… don’t burn yourself out trying to impress everyone at once. It’s a long season.”

She nodded, appreciating the advice. “Thanks, Coach. For the record, I’m not trying to impress everyone. Just trying to do my job.”

Beard’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. “Fair enough. Don’t let Jamie Tartt get under your skin too much today.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, though she couldn’t hide her smirk. “Why? Does he try to get under everyone’s skin?”

“Only when he’s breathing,” Beard deadpanned before walking off toward the office.

As the team trickled in, Y/N took the opportunity to explore more of the facilities. Passing the kit room, she noticed a whirlwind of motion—someone darting back and forth between racks of jerseys and shelves of gear. She knocked gently on the open door, and a young man spun around, nearly dropping a stack of neatly folded shirts.

“Oh, hi! You must be Y/N!” Will said, his grin wide and genuine.

“That’s me,” she said, stepping inside. “And you must be Will. The kit room looks incredible.”

“Thanks!” he said, practically beaming. “I try to keep it organized—you know, controlled chaos and all that.”

She laughed. “Well, it’s impressive. If I ever need anything, I’ll know who to come to.”

“Absolutely,” Will said. “Extra bibs, cones, anything. Just say the word.”

Y/N left the kit room feeling lighter, her confidence bolstered by Will’s enthusiasm. She was making her way back to the pitch when she nearly bumped into Nate, who was pacing near the office doors, muttering to himself.

“Whoa,” Y/N said, holding up her hands to steady herself.

“Oh! Sorry!” Nate said, his eyes widening. He quickly straightened his jacket, looking flustered. “I didn’t see you there.”

“All good,” Y/N said with a smile. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said quickly, though his expression betrayed his nerves. “Just… going over a few things for training. You know, trying to make sure everything runs smoothly.”

“Sounds like we’re in the same boat,” Y/N said, offering him a reassuring smile. “If it makes you feel better, I’m still figuring things out too.”

Nate gave her a small, grateful smile before heading off, and Y/N made her way back to the pitch, stopping briefly by her little office space shared with Roy.

“Y/N, the girl, the myth, the legend—I know it’s only your second day, but are you up for running the second half of training later?” Ted poked his head through the office door, his enthusiasm far too much for a Tuesday morning.

Y/N hesitated but felt like she had to prove herself to a group of coaches that included a former Champions League player and two Americans. “I’m up for it, I suppose,” she said, smiling, though her uncertainty was evident.

Later that day, Y/N straightened her shoulders, clutching her clipboard. Alright, she thought, if they’re testing me, I’ll pass with flying colors.

“Morning, Coach,” Sam greeted warmly as he jogged by, his easy smile offering her a thread of encouragement.

“Morning, Sam,” she replied, forcing her nerves to settle. She returned her focus to the drills she’d planned, hoping they’d strike the balance between challenging and effective.

Just as she was organizing the cones, Jamie sauntered onto the field, his pace deliberately slow, his face lit with that trademark cocky grin. He wasn’t saying anything, but the way his eyes scanned the setup made it clear he was judging her methods.

The warm-ups began smoothly enough. Y/N kept her instructions clear, her voice steady as she guided the players through each step. The drills were simple but purposeful, designed to sharpen their precision. She was just beginning to feel at ease when she heard it—a loud, exaggerated scoff from behind her.

She turned, already knowing who it was. Jamie stood with his arms folded, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief.

“Really?” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “This is what we’re doing today? My nan could do these drills, and she’s got one hip replacement and no bloody idea what football is.”

A few of the players stifled laughs, but most exchanged uncomfortable glances. Y/N raised an eyebrow, unfazed.

“You’ve got something to say, Jamie?” she asked, her tone calm but pointed.

“Yeah,” he said, stepping forward. “These drills are a waste of time. We don’t need to go back to basics. We’re not some under-12s team playing in the park, love.”

Y/N tilted her head, considering him and at the same time completely ignoring the nickname he gave her, which totally didn’t make her blush. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “It’s funny,” she said lightly. “You talk a big game, but I’ve noticed you struggling to keep up with some of the lads in these basic drills.”

The players erupted in oohs and laughter, and Jamie’s smirk faltered for a split second. He recovered quickly, though, his grin sharpening.

“Alright then,” he said, his voice full of challenge. “If you think you’re such an expert, why don’t you show me how it’s done? You’re a coach—you should know how to play, right?”

Y/N’s lips curved into a slow smile. “Is that a challenge? Because we don’t back down from them where I’m from.”

Jamie shrugged. “Call it what you want. Let’s see if you’re as good as you think you are, Coach.”

The tension crackled in the air, and the players immediately began to gather around, sensing the showdown. Even Roy, standing off to the side with his arms crossed, seemed intrigued. Ted, on the other hand, looked a little unsure.

“Fine,” Y/N said, dropping her clipboard.

Ted stepped in. “I don’t want to question any good ole’ coaching methods, but are you sure about this, Y/N?”

“I don’t know,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But it seems like he needs his ass handed to him at some point, and I’m willing to do just that.”

Even Roy cracked a smile at that statement, clapping his hands twice in approval.

“Well, I like her better than all of you,” Roy said, looking pointedly at Ted and Beard. The latter just shrugged.

“Alright, it’s on, Tartt. Get your ass on the pitch,” Y/N said, which made Jamie smile—just a little.

The players hooted and hollered as the impromptu match began, forming a loose circle around the two of them. Jamie, ever the showman, played up the crowd, grinning and waving like he’d already won. Y/N, on the other hand, focused on the ball, tuning out the noise.

The first goal came quickly—hers. She weaved around Jamie with ease, her movements sharp and precise. The players cheered as she sent the ball sailing into the net, her expression calm and composed despite the thrill of victory.

“Lucky shot,” Jamie muttered, retrieving the ball.

“Sure,” she said, smirking.

The second goal was his, and he made sure to celebrate obnoxiously, his grin practically splitting his face.

“Still think I’m struggling?” he called, winking at her.

She didn’t respond, instead resetting for the next round. The third goal took longer, the two of them battling fiercely for control. Every time Jamie thought he had the upper hand, Y/N surprised him, her quick reflexes and sharp instincts keeping him on his toes.

Finally, she broke away, her eyes narrowing as she lined up her shot. The ball sailed past Jamie and into the net, and the players erupted into cheers.

“Three-two,” Y/N said, her breath coming fast but her smile triumphant.

Jamie stood there for a moment, his hands on his hips, his face a mixture of frustration and something else—something warmer. Finally, he stepped forward, extending a hand.

“Alright,” he said, his voice grudging but sincere. “You’re better than I thought.”

Y/N took his hand, her grip firm. “Told you,” she said lightly.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink around them. There was something in his gaze—something intense and electric—that made her heart skip a beat. She felt the heat rising to her cheeks and quickly let go of his hand, stepping back.

“Well,” she said, clearing her throat. “Glad we got that sorted.”

Jamie smirked, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t get used to it, love.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she shot back. There was that word again—love.

As the players began to disperse, the buzz of excitement still lingering in the air, Y/N stayed behind to collect the equipment. She was just finishing up when Roy approached, his expression unreadable.

“You handled that well,” he said gruffly.

Y/N turned to him, surprised. “The match or Jamie?”

“Both,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, wiping sweat from her brow.

Roy hesitated for a moment before asking, “You ever play professionally?”

Y/N paused, her smile fading slightly. “I wanted to. But I got injured when I was a teenager. Tore my ACL. Doctors said I’d never play at that level again.”

Roy nodded, his expression softening. “That’s tough.”

If anyone understood how an injury could derail an entire career, it was him.

“It was,” Y/N admitted. “But I found other ways to stay in the game. Coaching lets me stay close to the sport, even if it’s not the same.” Her eyes were sad but also hopeful—the sport had once been a big part of her life, and she held on to it like a last resort.

Jamie, who had lingered nearby, overheard the conversation. He glanced at Y/N, his expression thoughtful. She could’ve been bigger than him if she’d played professionally, and now she was here, helping others achieve perfection in a sport they both loved. A certain respect—and a need to protect her at all costs—rose up in Jamie.

[ephemaera]

@tartt9 sent 🎁 for a spotify wrapped starter from jamie for keeley! ( masquerade from stereophonic )

'why can't i forget your eyes?'

[fxckingmoran]

~ @tartt9 || ❝ i'm doing some of my best work here and you don't even have the decency to roll your eyes at me. honestly it's hurtful. ❞ ~

Sebastian's lips quirk upwards. "Fuck me, you're an annoying prick." It's said with a touch of endearment, clear that it's meant in a weirdly caring way. He leans forward, elbows resting against his knees. "Go on then, I'm watching. Show off the footwork, twinkle toes." And then - "Oh, I've an idea. Why don't I go in goal and distract you with my sexy good looks whilst you try to take penalties."

[belayadeath-goner]

JAMIE TARTT: say it in plain english. @tartt9

HER SILENCE IS DEAFENING, ENOUGH TO SET EVEN THE. MOST CONFIDENT PEOPLE ON EDGE. the sharp line of her jaw tightened when she shook on her head, almost unsure of what part exactly he was referring to. “  which part did you not understand?  ” her pointer finger had gently tapped against the wood of the table beneath it, an absent - minded twitch that she hadn't been able to shake. “  was it the part when i said i wished to drink alone, or the part where i said that i don't watch football?  ” bianca cocked an eyebrow as she reached for the drink that sat before her and took a sip, only for her index finger to continue its tapping against the glass instead. “  because i thought that was pretty simple.  ”

[mazur5s]

" long time no see. " the captain smirks, holding out a small (dumb) lion jellycat, " this is from noa. " @tartt9.

[allroundher]

@tartt9. call.

ㅤ“ Oi, Jamie. ” Penny says it like a question, quickening her step a little to be able to catch up with him down the corridor. She doesn't spend that much time with Richmond's men's team. Not for any reason, mind, it's just how things seem to have worked out. But she's homesick, see. She's never lived so far from home before, least of all in London, and Jamie just so happens to be The Other Mancunian. It is what it is. She misses the drawl. “ Are you doing owt tonight? Summat I can invite myself along to, at least. ”

[nameless-jamie]

Offside Tensions – Jamie Tartt x Y/N

Disclaimer: This FF is set after season 3 in a kind of alternative universe where Ted never left and Jamie is over Keeley. Just fyi.

Masterlist - Next Chapter

Chapter 1: New Kid on the Block

Y/N sat by the window of the train, the countryside whirring by in patches of green and gold. The morning light slanted across the fields, turning everything soft and golden. Her stomach churned—not unpleasantly, but in that restless, jittery way that only big moments could summon.

Richmond. AFC Richmond.

She let the thought settle for a moment, looking at her reflection in the train window. It didn’t feel real yet. All those years of grinding it out in the lower leagues, working with young athletes, pulling late nights in front of performance stats—it had all been leading to this: a chance to work with a Premier League team.

The announcer's voice crackled through the speaker, jolting her from her thoughts. “Next stop: Richmond.”

The train pulled into the station, and as Y/N stepped onto the platform, she was greeted by the crisp bite of early spring air. Richmond unfolded around her like a scene out of a storybook—winding cobblestone streets, little shopfronts with flower boxes perched on their windowsills, and a faint hum of life as the town began its day.

A taxi took her from the station to Nelson Road Stadium, and Y/N spent the ride trying to absorb everything. The town was idyllic in a way that felt almost disarming—the kind of place where locals probably knew each other by name, where time moved just a bit slower.

The stadium loomed into view, and her heart gave an excited lurch. It wasn’t as grand as the giants of the Premier League, but it was unmistakably home to something special. The AFC Richmond crest was emblazoned on the side of the building, and banners of the players fluttered in the morning breeze.

Her eyes caught on one banner in particular: Jamie Tartt. His cocky grin stretched across the fabric, the kind that seemed to challenge anyone who looked at it. She knew of him, of course—everyone who followed football did. A rising star, undeniably talented, but with an ego big enough to eclipse the sun.

The cab driver chuckled as he noticed her staring. “Ah, Jamie Tartt. Bit of a character, that one. Good player, though. When he feels like it.”

Y/N smirked but didn’t reply. She had no illusions about Jamie Tartt. But she also wasn’t here to coddle egos.

Once inside the stadium, she was immediately hit by the scent of freshly cut grass and cleaning supplies. The hallways were lined with photos and memorabilia of the club’s history—black-and-white shots of old teams, players hoisting trophies, a timeline of moments that had brought the club to this point.

She didn’t have much time to linger before a voice broke through the quiet.

“Y/N, right?”

Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Ted Lasso. He was shorter than she’d imagined but somehow larger than life. His grin was bright and welcoming, and the energy he radiated made her feel as if they’d known each other for years.

“That’s me,” she said, offering her hand.

Ted shook it warmly. “Well, color me thrilled to meet you! Ted Lasso, head coach, accidental wisdom-dispenser, and occasional baker. Welcome to AFC Richmond!”

The tension in her chest eased slightly. “Thanks, Ted. It’s great to finally be here.”

They began walking toward the pitch, Ted chatting the whole way.

“So, tell me, how does it feel? Big, scary stadium, new faces, new town—you doing alright?”

“It’s… a lot,” she admitted, her voice carrying just a hint of the nervous energy bubbling inside her. “But it’s the good kind of overwhelming, you know? Like the night before Christmas or stepping onto a stage for the first time.”

Ted nodded, his trademark grin softening into something more thoughtful. “I get that. Nerves mean you care. Just don’t let ‘em tie you up in knots, alright? And remember, we’re all here to help you settle in. Now, some of us might be better at that than others—”

He stopped suddenly as a figure rounded the corner ahead of them.

Roy Kent.

The man was practically a walking storm cloud—broad shoulders, perpetual scowl, and a presence so intense it felt like the air got heavier the closer he got. He stopped a few paces away, arms crossed, dark eyes narrowing as they landed on Y/N.

“This her?” he asked, his voice gravelly enough to scrape paint off walls.

“Yes, this her,” Ted replied cheerfully, gesturing toward her as if unveiling a grand masterpiece. “Roy, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet Roy Kent—our resident grump, enforcer, and occasional source of shockingly poetic wisdom.”

Roy’s eyes flicked to her, scanning her in that sharp, no-nonsense way that made it clear he didn’t believe in wasting time—or words.

“Right,” he muttered, then turned his full attention to Y/N. “You any good, or are you just here to fill a quota?”

The bluntness of the question caught her off guard, but only for a moment. Y/N straightened her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. She wasn’t about to let anyone—even Roy Kent—intimidate her on her first day.

“I guess you’ll find out soon enough,” she replied evenly, a little hint of sarcasm and a lot of poise in her voice.

Roy didn’t smile, but something in his expression shifted, like he was mildly impressed she hadn’t backed down. Seems like he’s finally met someone to match his energy. “We’ll see,” he muttered nonchalantly before stepping past them, his boots echoing against the floor.

Ted clapped his hands together, cutting through the silence Roy left in his wake. “Well, that went better than expected! If Roy didn’t growl at you, you’re already ahead of most folks. Don’t take it personally; he’s like an espresso shot—strong, bitter, but he’ll wake you right up.”

Y/N chuckled despite herself. “Good to know.”

Ted led her out onto the pitch, and the sight stopped her in her tracks. The stadium, though modest compared to some, had an undeniable charm. The grass shimmered under the early sunlight, meticulously manicured and almost unnaturally green. The stands curved around them, a patchwork of faded seats that still managed to exude character. Breathtaking—a word to describe the sight. Y/N’s football heart skipped a beat.

[arachnidiots]

🍓 tartt9

S IS FOR SPECTACULAR! i adore @tartt9, and i thank s every day for being so truly patient with me because i take forever on our threads, but i do enjoy them soooo much because s is just so brilliant of a writer and i think as far as portrayals go, i’m floored every time by the way s is able to bottle jamie up and present him in just a small paragraph. i also love their enthusiasm for football & while i know very little it’s nice sometimes to see something i don’t know about & learn and be in the know

@ mutuals send me a 🍓 (+ an optional url) and ill compliment u!

[10power]

@tartt9. call.

"Jim, I'm bored," is the first thing she says when he's picked up his phone. Injuries will do that to you. Nothing career-ending, mind, and she hurt herself playing for England, so she isn't that mad in the grand scheme of things. (A win that meant anything might have made all this feel better. You can't have everything.) She's been told to rest, though, and, honestly, there's only so much time you can spend at home not being able to go work before you start losing your mind. Penny made it three days, and now she's making herself Jamie's problem because he made the mistake of giving her his phone number. "Are you doing owt?"

[neverrcryarch]

@tartt9 : don't ask me to fetch that stick.

could he read my fucking mind? i had been debating it, as a joke ... of course. thought it might be funny. which is why i can't help but let a smile stretch across my face, followed by a chuckle. "would be pretty fuckin' funny though, if i did." my hand reaches out, giving jamie a playful shove. i clear my throat, forcing my laughter to die down. "you'd do it, wouldn't you?" i can't help but ask, smirking as i do so. "if i asked you to. always so well behaved, for me at least. i did a good job training you."

[arachnidiots-a]

JAMIE TARTT & LIAM KAZ.

“look if you don’t want it,” liam holds out what’s clearly a diy-ed friendship bracelet, “then you don’t have to take it.” across the beads it spells out the other’s name in mismatched bead letters. “but this is the product of some really fine handy work, and i don’t want to have to go back with it. it would crush the hard workers who spent so much time on it. hopes and dreams would be crushed.”

@tartt9 liked for a starter !

[nameless-jamie]

Offside Tension - Jamie Tartt x Y/N

Masterlist - Next Chapter

Chapter 4 - Lines Crossed, Hearts Questioned

The past few days had been... strange for Y/N. She wasn’t exactly sure when things had shifted, but something about Jamie Tartt had lodged itself in her thoughts, and it was beginning to feel impossible to shake. The banter between them was harmless, playful even, but every smirk he gave her lingered longer than it should have in her mind. Every time he called her “love” in that casually cheeky way, her stomach did this ridiculous little flip that made her want to kick herself.

Why, of all people, was Jamie Tartt starting to get under her skin?

She didn’t have much time to dwell on it this morning, though. Training had wrapped up smoothly, and the team was dispersing. Y/N was standing near the pitch, watching the players file out, when Jamie walked past her, his usual swagger on full display.

“Good drills today, Coach,” he said, his tone teasing but not unkind. Then, after a beat, he added with a smirk, “Maybe next time, I’ll let you win one-on-one.”

She raised an eyebrow, biting back a retort. “Let me? Pretty sure I wiped the floor with you, Tartt.”

He grinned, stepping closer. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

Their eyes locked for a moment, and for reasons she couldn’t quite place, her breath hitched. She forced herself to look away, focusing instead on gathering her clipboard and whistle. When she glanced back up, Jamie was already walking off, but he glanced over his shoulder and gave her a quick wink. Her face flushed, and she quickly turned away, hoping no one had noticed.

Unfortunately for her, Keeley Jones had. Keeley saw her from Rebecca’s office and wanted to say hello to her new friend, but didn’t expect the heavy flirting with a certain Mancunian.

Later, as Y/N sat on a bench reviewing her notes on the sidelines of the pitch, Keeley’s voice broke through her concentration.

“Alright, spill.”

Y/N looked up to see Keeley standing in front of her, arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face.

“Spill what?” Y/N asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me,” Keeley said, plopping down beside her. “You’ve been all distracted today, you didn’t even show your face in the locker room. And don’t think I didn’t notice that little... moment you had with Jamie earlier.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “It wasn’t a moment.”

“Babe, it was totally a moment,” Keeley said, nudging her playfully. “So what’s the deal? You fancy him?”

“No,” Y/N said quickly. Too quickly. She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, it’s just... he’s Jamie Tartt, you know? And we’ve only ever had this... flirty banter thing going on. It’s not like it’s real.”

Keeley tilted her head, studying her. “Why do you think it’s not real?”

“Because...” Y/N hesitated, searching for the words. “Because I’ve seen the way he is with people. He’s charming and cocky and—”

“And completely different from who he used to be,” Keeley finished for her. “Y/N, I know Jamie can come across like he’s all bravado, but he’s changed so much over the past couple of years. You should’ve seen him when he first came back to Richmond. He was a nightmare. But he’s worked so hard to be better—as a player and as a person.”

Y/N frowned. “What changed?”

“A lot of things,” Keeley said. “Ted had a big impact on him, obviously. And then there’s his dad...” She paused, her expression softening. “Jamie’s dad’s in rehab now. But before that, he was... well, let’s just say he wasn’t exactly Father of the Year. Jamie’s had to deal with a lot of crap from him. But instead of letting it drag him down, he’s used it to push himself to be better.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at the thought. She’d seen glimpses of vulnerability in Jamie—moments when his confidence seemed more like armor than arrogance.

“I didn’t know that,” she said quietly.

Keeley smiled gently. “He doesn’t always let people see that side of him. But it’s there. And I think... maybe he lets you see more of it than you realize. I think you could be that person for him.”

Y/N’s stomach fluttered at the implication, but she pushed the feeling aside. “I don’t know, Keeley. I’m his coach. This... whatever this is... it’s complicated.”

Keeley shrugged. “The best things usually are.”

That evening, Y/N stayed late at Nelson Road to finish up some paperwork in her office. By the time she was ready to leave, the parking lot was nearly empty, save for a few cars. She climbed into her own car, an old, beat-up thing she’d bought on a budget as soon as she arrived in Richmond. Better to have a car than no car at all. She turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing.

“Great,” she muttered, leaning her head against the steering wheel. She shouldn't have listened to the guy at the car dealership, but she had a habit of being bad at saying no to salesmen.

A knock on her window startled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see Jamie standing there, his brows furrowed in concern. She rolled down the window.

“Car trouble?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “It won’t start.”

“Pop the hood. I’ll take a look,” he said.

She hesitated. “You know anything about cars?”

“Not a clue,” he admitted with a grin. “But I’ll give it a go.”

She couldn’t help but laugh as she popped the hood. Jamie peered inside, poking at a few things while muttering to himself. After a few minutes, he stepped back, wiping his hands on his track pants.

“Yeah, I’ve got no idea what I’m doin’,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure this thing’s not goin’ anywhere tonight.”

Y/N groaned. “Fantastic.”

“Come on,” Jamie said. “I’ll give you a ride.”

She hesitated. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he said, his tone softer now. “But I want to.”

Something in his expression made her relent, and she grabbed her bag, following him to his car. The ride started off awkward, the tension between them palpable. But as they drove, the conversation began to flow more easily. They talked about football, about their favorite players and matches they’d seen. Jamie told her about growing up in Manchester, and she shared stories from her own childhood. They found out that they both think Messi is way better than Ronaldo.

"No, I know. And the whole goal celebration thing. Like, it’s a team sport. I mean, who only celebrates themselves after a goal? A little arrogant, if you ask me." Y/N knew what she was saying and to whom she was saying it. She’d seen some of Jamie's old goal celebrations. But teasing him was just too tempting at the moment.

"Wow. Ok, foul play. I'm a changed man now, love. These days I would even consider celebrating with my coaches," he side-eyed her.

By the time they pulled up outside her flat, the air between them felt lighter, though the tension was still there, humming just beneath the surface. Jamie turned to her as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said. "And for taking a 'proper look' at my car."

“Anytime,” he replied, his voice quieter than usual. "You should get it checked out by a professional tomorrow."

"Oh, so you're not professional enough to fix my car for me, Tartt?" She stopped the light banter mid-sentence because Jamie tucked the loose strand of hair that had fallen in her eyes behind her ear in such a loving way. It took her breath away, literally.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Their eyes met, and Y/N’s breath caught. Jamie leaned in slightly, and for a split second, she thought he might kiss her. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt herself leaning in, too, before reality crashed down around her. You're his coach, for heaven's sake.

“Goodnight,” she said quickly, pulling back and fumbling with the door handle. She practically stumbled out of the car, her cheeks burning.

“Goodnight,” Jamie said, his voice tinged with disappointment and definite confusion as she hurried inside.

Once she was safely in her flat, Y/N leaned against the door, her heart still racing. What the hell was happening to her? Jamie Tartt was turning her world upside down, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

[g0atkeepermoved]

@tartt9 liked _ !

“      ⸺ explain to me how that happened. "

[4mage]

@tartt9 / starter call.

"wait, hold on a second !!" marley basically jogs to catch up to the other. once they have, they extend forward a light blue box. inside are some new biscuts that they've been working on. brown butter and cardamom, they're changing up the menu at jan & joes for the winter season. "i need you to give these a try, like it's practically life or death here. because i've been eating them all day and i have no idea what they taste like. i need a second set of eyes, i guess, er well ... taste buds. need a second set of taste buds."

[neverrcryarch]

@tartt9 : starter call ft. skunk.

"oh shit ... jamie?" hadn't expected to see him out here. well, it was a park ... and footballers did like running a whole lot, or that's what it seemed like. and that's exactly what jamie was doing. i was just going for a ride on my skate board, enjoying having the day off from practice. i hadn't really chatted much with the other before, just here and there conversation ... like i did with the rest of the team. i hop off my skate board, stepping on the back of it and popping it up into the air, catching it with my hands. "you ever skate before man?" i can't help but ask, brow raising and a smirk on my face. "i could totally teach ya."