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triptuckers · 4 days ago

Note

OMGGGG WELCOME BACK QUEEN!!!!! honestly you can write quite literally ANYTHING (esp hurt/comfort pls pls pls) with jamie bc all your fics are simply immaculate 🫶🏼

THANKS QUEEN. I’m starting off with the most open-ended prompt and let me tell you, ya girl is RUSTY. This took way longer than it should so pls forgive me😅

But yeah requests are still open so ask away!

birds of a feather

The lights are off when you get home, but you don’t bother turning them on. You’re familiar enough with Jamie’s house that you can make your way upstairs and to his bed without looking. You drop your bag, kick off your shoes, and trudge upstairs.

The light’s on in his room but he’s passed out. You smile to yourself despite the day and switch off the lights.

You weren’t going to cry again, really you weren’t, but by the time you’re brushing your teeth, they’re sliding down your face.

But it’s dark, so no one can see.

You slip into bed where you can (hopefully) cry yourself to sleep when a sob escapes your throat.

Another slips out, then another, making it hard to stop and harder to breathe.

“Babe?” comes Jamie’s hoarse voice. “You alright?”

You can feel him reach for the light, so you blindly grab for his arm. “Don’t,” you gasp, “Please, just leave it off.”

Jamie understands what you mean. You’re trying to say, I don’t want you to see me cry.

He shifts so his face is two inches from yours. He’ll be awake in a few hours, but it doesn’t matter at the moment.

“What happened?” he whispers, but he already knows the answer. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but Beard had been running the team ragged in training.

You take a shuddering breath and Jamie’s eyes have adjusted enough where he can wipe away a tear. “Went exactly as expected, didn’t it?” you say. “She did what she always does. Asked for money, was furious when I said no. Asked for advice, was mad when I gave her an answer. Asked me to listen, was upset when I wasn’t giving her solutions. She stormed out after an hour, but not before throwing her wine on me. I ruined the dress you got me, I’m pretty sure we got papped, and I’m really, really sorry.” That’s going to be a lovely article to wake up to in the morning. If Keeley were here, she would be able to come up with a catchy headline for it, rhyming “Tartt,” with something about sisters and WAGs and thrown wine.

But Keeley isn’t here, it’s just you and Jamie, and you can’t help but think it’s too early in your relationship for this.

Really though, you haven’t been together long enough for your name to tarnish his. That’s a milestone that should be passed in ten months. A year, even.

Jamie barely catches himself from asking, “Why do you still see her?” just like everyone has asked him about his father.

Instead he says, “I’m not fuckin’ worried,” and wraps you in his arms.

You exhale and snuggle as close as you can.

It’s times like this where you remember exactly why you’re with him. He just- gets it.

You met him through Keeley. Keeley had been your sister’s friend first, met at a photo shoot, but it was hard to stay friends with your sister. You and Keeley became close while your sister accused you of stealing all her friends.

“Keeley would love to see you,” you had tried to tell her one time in an attempt to keep her from shouting.

“The fuck I would,” Keeley had snorted when you relayed the story hours later.

Keeley’s a genius, really. She took a horrible a vitriolic viral tabloid story about Jamie’s dad and a charity gala, and managed to create this, whatever “this” is.

Jamie’s running his thumb up and down your arm as your breathing evens out.

“Want to go on a run with me and Roy tomorrow?” he asks. “I’ll get you breakfast.”

You whisper back, “I can buy my own breakfast,” and Jamie’s grateful that it’s dark so he can roll his eyes without getting smacked.

“What if I fucking want to get it for you? What then, ey?”

You respond, “Hm,” and then you’re asleep.

—

If Roy’s surprised you’re with Jamie in the morning, he doesn’t show it. He grunts and says, “Don’t think I’m going fucking easy on you, Tartt,” but he sets the warmup at a pace you like before saying, “You’re doing fucking sprints today and I don’t want to hear fucking shit about it.”

He’d never admit it, but Roy’s excellent at reading people. The sprints are so you don’t have to have a single thought inside your head. By the time the sun rises, you’re enjoying coffee on a bench with Roy while Jamie completes his eighty-second pushup.

“Don’t fucking read the fucking Sun,” is the last thing Roy says before leaving to go to his actual work. You grimace, but Jamie takes your hand and swings it the whole way back to his house.

“I’m not going to see her again,” you tell him. He knows you’re lying. He said the same thing about his dad month and a half ago, but he’s going to see him in rehab next week.

Jamie hands you a credit card on his way out the door “to get something fucking hot, babe.”

It won’t change anything and it won’t even fix anything either, but that’s not the point.

The point is he’s looking at you. He sees, he understands, and he’s still there.

You do end up reading the article. It’s complete shit, a made up story about you being a bitch whose newfound celebrity has alienated you from your loving family. Nowhere does it mention that said “loving” family only comes crawling around when they need something. That what they take from you will never be enough.

The fuck did you read that shite for? comes Jamie’s text after you’ve ignored his last five. ik that’s why ur not responfing

Why is your autocorrect never on? you write back instead of answering.

Jamie’s reply is quick: for the aesthetic

You: So you can write “aesthetic,” but have trouble spelling “responding?” Seems strange

Jamie: Sma helpd

Then: *Sam.

You smile, despite yourself. Sometimes you wonder how much of this he does just to get a rise out of you. You suspect it’s more than he lets on, but you’ll let him pretend to be stupid for now.

You check the time. If he’s texting at this hour, it means training’s done. Your finger hovers over the call button for a fraction of a second before pressing it.

Sam picks up on the second ring. “Your boyfriend is hitting Isaac with a towel,” he says, no preamble. “It is chaos.”

“He was just texting me a second ago,” you say.

You can practically hear Sam shrug through the phone. “It escalated quickly. Do you need him? I’m sure they will stop since you’re calling.”

He doesn’t sound too sure, which makes you laugh. “No, it’s all good, can you just tell him-”

You’re interrupted but the muffled sound of the phone being wrestled away from Sam.

“Jamie’s a dickhead,” comes Isaac’s voice far too close to the speaker before there’s vague wrestling again and you hear Jamie, very much out of breath.

“What’s up, babe?” he asks and you don’t even remember why you called him in the first place because you’re smiling too wide.

“I really fucking love you,” you tell him and even though it isn’t the first time you said it, you feel nervous. The good kind, where you know he’s going to say it back and mean it, and that his words are just for you.

Jamie says, “I love you too,” and tries his best to convey a thousand meanings into four words.

“Great,” you say, “because the top Google story for you is me with a giant wine stain on my dress. So I think we should go out tonight and look so hot that everyone forgets all about it. Thoughts?”

Jamie says, “Fucking mint,” then, “fucking ow,” and you can tell by the sounds in the background that Isaac’s gotten him again.

“GottagoloveyouheresSam,” he says in a rush before you hear him practically hurl his phone.

“You have some strange coworkers, Sam,” you comment.

“You have a strange boyfriend,” he retorts, and he’s right. But Jamie’s strange matches your strange, so you think it’ll last.

#giggling blushing kicking my feet #i love a good bedtime story #goodnight yall #jamie tartt x reader #fic rec

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triptuckers · 4 days ago

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Could I request a 🍸? Prompt 80 with either Roy or Jamie from Ted lasso. Congrats on 1.5k!!

jamie tartt x reader

prompts ; ' will carry you if you're injured '

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !

how you had managed to hurt yourself at a restaurant was absolutely beyond you.

the whole richmond team was packed into Ola's for dinner and jamie had brought you along. which you were more than excited to do because you had tasted sam's cooking before when you had been round for dinner and an actual restaurant would be next level.

but then one moment you had been standing from your table to go to the bathroom, and the next you had been falling into the arms of colin where he had been sat at the next table.

while jamie had been up to try and catch you when he saw you stumbling, he hadn't been able to get there quick enough and you were thankful the room was full of fit footballers with quick reflexes who could catch you.

but you were less concerned about the scene you had just made as opposed to the throbbing in your ankle.

" y' alright, babe ?" jamie questioned as he came to stand beside you, his face full of concern that warmed your heart slightly.

" yeah, 'm fine. thanks colin " if he hadn't caught you, you probably would've caused a bigger scene than you already had.

when you tried to stand on both feet on your own, you almost crumbled again and this time it was jamie's arms that wrapped around you to prevent you from falling to the floor.

he helped you sit yourself back in your chair and you could feel almost every pair of eyes in the restaurant on you, but the only set you could focus on was jamie's as he knelt down infront of you.

you knew it was impossible to hide anything from your boyfriend. he could read you like a book even if you tried to hide it. something that only made it worse.

his hands grazed your ankle as he pulled your shoe off, at which you couldn't help but wince.

the sight of it wasnt much better. you weren't sure how it had become so inflamed and red in less than a minute, but it had.

the sight even made jamie wince, and that was never a good sign.

" think y've sprained your ankle, baby. must've caught it on the table when you got up "

his fingertips were delicate against the skin of your ankle but that didn't stop the furrow of pain that showed up between your brows.

" think 've gotta get you home, sweetheart. get some ice on this "

he stood from the floor, keeping your shoe in his hand because he didnt want to see you pained as he tried to put it back on.

he offered his hands out to pull you up from the seat, noticing the way you only put one foot down on the ground.

he helped you hobble out of the restaurant, thanking sam profusely for even inviting you and apologising for having to leave.

the moment you were outside jamie stopped walking and turned to you.

" cars parked two streets down, love " he explained, eliciting a groan from you.

but that feeling of dread was short-lived as you felt jamie's arm around your back and the other behind your knees.

your arms looped around his neck out of pure instinct and before you knew it, jamie was carrying you bridal style towards the car.

" didnt want to embarrass ya infront of the boys " he answered the question you hadn't even asked yet.

you had no response. well, no verbal response. instead, you pressed a kiss onto his cheek and rested your head down against his shoulder, making a mental note to make him breakfast tomorrow morning.

if you could get out of bed without his help.

#ugh that’s my boy 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻#fic rec #jamie tartt x reader

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triptuckers · 4 days ago

Text

Autographs

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re the social media manager for AFC Richmond’s socials. You’ve been seeing a trend of asking players for their autograph so you decided to try it out with your team.

Ted Lasso Masterlist

You hold your phone up as you peek into the locker room. All of the boys are dressed so you enter with a grin on your face. You keep a stack of papers close to your chest as you quickly head into Coach Beard's office.

"Hey, coach, training doesn't start for another thirty minutes, right?"

Beard checks his watch and nods, "Affirmative."

You nod, "Cool. I'm going to film some content for the socials then," you turn to Roy, starting with you. You press record and hold out a picture to him, "Can I get your autograph, coach?"

"Fucking hell," Roy grumbles as he sees a younger version of himself staring back at him, "Where the fuck did you find this?"

"Did some digging. Love the curls, by the way," you hold out a marker and Roy glares at you. He still scribbles out his name on the photo, handing it back to you, "There. Now fuck off."

You snicker, "Thanks a bunch!"

You exit the office and zero in on your boyfriend, Jamie. You waltz right up to him with giddiness. He smiles up at you as he finishes lacing up his boots. He stands and pecks your lips, "What's with the look, babes?"

You hold out a picture of a small Jamie posing on a pitch, "Can I have your autograph?"

His brows shoot up in surprise, "No fuckin' way. Where'd you find this?"

"I asked your mom to send me a pic of when you were little."

He chuckles, "Look at me. A sexy lil thing, aren't I?" You snort and hand him the marker. He signs his name and draws a heart, writing his initials and yours inside it. He caps the marker and hands it back to you along with the picture, "There ya go, babes."

"I'll cherish it forever."

You look down at your next photo and go up to Sam, who gives you a polite grin, "Good afternoon, Y/N!"

"Hi, Sam! Can I get your autograph?"

"Of course!" you hand him a picture of when he was a young teen and he laughs, "Oh my."

Jamie, who decided to follow you, reaches for the picture, "Aw look at you, Sammy boy!" Jamie shows all the boys Sam's picture and Sam bashfully chuckles.

"Alright, give it here, Jamie!" Sam swipes it back and signs his name. When he gives it back to you, he asks, "Where did you find this picture?"

"I scrolled through your old Facebook photos."

Sam sighs and shakes his head, "I knew I should've deleted those."

The next person you go up to is Colin. He's a small skinny thing, donning his primary school uniform, smiling widely.

Colin looks up at you in disbelief, "Did you reach out to my parents for this?"

You give a nonchalant shrug, "Maybe."

Each interaction with the boys went this way. Each one was surprised to see a picture of a younger version of them being handed to them. The surrounding players hollering and teasing each other for how they looked back then.

Jamie stood beside you the entire time, watching each interaction and just hanging around you. How could he not? He's always drawn to your presence. Not only that, he just adores how well you get along with the guys. You're sweet and funny, which makes it easy for them to say "yes" to whatever kind of video you want to film for the team's socials. You're very good at your job.

After all the photos are signed, you set them out so everyone can see. You stand back, watching the boys mess around with each other. You're already uploading the videos to your dropbox so you can edit them all together on your work computer.

Jamie wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your temple, "Must be nice getting paid to make fun of footballers," he says with a smirk.

You giggle, "So fun! Seriously so glad Keeley hired me on! Probably the most fun I've ever had in any job!"

"Also probably the best job ever since you get to hang around your hot footballer boyfriend too, yeah?" He gives you a playfully nudge.

You snort, turning to completely face him, your arms hooking behind his neck, "Oh absolutely," you lean in to kiss him but Roy steps in, pushing you two away from each other, "Get a room, you disgustingly cute little shits."

You look at each other confused, but then shrugged as Roy yelled, "Whistle! WHISTLE!" The gaggle of football players quiet and you quickly wave at Jamie. You blow a kiss at him and mouth, "I'll see you later."

He blows you a kiss back and waves, earning him a slap on the head from Roy.

"Oi! What the hell, gramps?"

"Pay attention!" Roy grumbles and turns his attention back to the rest of the players, ready to prepare them for today's training.

#to read

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triptuckers · 4 days ago

Text

jamie tartt | misery loves company

MASTERLIST

words: 3.2k warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, shared experiences of fatherly abuse, jamie being a dick for a while, but then making up for it, swearing, pain pain pain prompt: Can I request a Jamie Tartt angst where he snapped at the reader for asking/consoling him about his father, but only to know later that the reader has a similar daddy issue just like him?

You didn’t usually go out of your way to talk to Jamie Tartt… before tonight. Before this. Before you’d witnessed his father’s verbal onslaughts in the locker room, long after the rest of the lads had left to celebrate their victory.

Their victory. Anyone looking in would think Jamie had done the worst job of his life on the pitch tonight — not that that would justify all this shouting — but it had been the opposite. For once, Ted’s team player tactics had sunken in. Jamie had passed the ball, let Sam score the goal. He’d played like a true professional without any of his usual tendencies to steal the limelight.

So why the fuck is he being reprimanded for it? Your heart leaps into your throat as you watch Jamie hunch over himself on the bench, clasping his hands together and squeezing his eyes closed as his dad keeps going. Telling Jamie he’d played shit, that he’d done all the wrong things, that he's a joke.

You're about to go in, stop it, when Jamie snaps his head up and spits out: “Just stop it, will ya? We fuckin’ won, Dad!”

His dad sneers, then grips Jamie’s chin in his fist, forcing him to meet his blazing eyes. “And what does winning matter when you play like a fucking girl? Keep taking a backseat and you’ll be forgotten in weeks. You’ll be no one. And you’ll fuckin’ deserve it, too.”

Tears well in Jamie’s eyes, and yours. The door is flung open, and you bolt aside before it hits you. You come face to face with his dad, but with your eyes bleary and your heart racing and that desperate instinct to recoil screeching through your bones, it might have been your own father standing there and you wouldn’t know the difference. You’d grown up with a man like this one: violent, cruel, someone who you would never be enough for. You would have loved to defend Jamie in that moment, but just like in the confines of your own broken home, your throat clogs with all the rage you'll never be allowed to express.

Like Jamie, you remain silent. His dad looks you up and down. “Enjoyed the fucking show, did ya?” He storms off before you could reply, but his venomous words cut into you all the same.

You give yourself a moment, just a moment, to take a steadying breath. And then you walk into the locker room, where Jamie is sniffling into his hands. He jumps when you clear your throat, wiping his cheeks with his sleeves quickly and turning his head to avoid you seeing him.

It's too late for that. You sit on the bench opposite. “Are you okay, Jamie?”

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” he mutters. You wince against the sharpness of them. He sounds just like his dad, and just like yours. Still, you know it's a defence mechanism, one that won't stop you from seeing right through him. You’d always thought he was just an arrogant twat. It's dizzying to suddenly be reevaluating that after several years of working alongside him. He makes your job as Rebecca’s assistant impossible most of the time. On your first day, he’d requested an outlandish lunch you had to travel all the way across Richmond for. When you’d returned, flustered and exhausted, he’d laughed at your naivety and bitten into one of the cafeteria’s BLTs, throwing the order you’d hunted down yourself straight in the bin.

You’ve hated him since then and would have gladly continued to. He loves playing games. Maybe, you think, it's just a way of regaining the control his father takes from him. Maybe he hadn’t been lucky enough to do what you’ve done and find your own support system, friends who taught you that love isn't supposed to be slamming doors and scathing insults. Maybe he just doesn't know any better.

“Is he like that with you a lot?” you ask quietly now.

Jamie scoffs, standing up suddenly. He rips off his football shirt, swapped it for a plain black one, always so uncaring about baring his muscular body — and yet he clearly isn't going to offer much else, lips pursed and eyes shuttered. “Have you got ‘nowt better to do than lurk round here all night? Go ‘ome, you sad git.”

For once, his words don't touch you. They aren't quite as believable in the unlit locker room tonight, not with the tear stains on his face. You lean forward, tempted to reach out. “Jamie, I’m so sorry…”

He cuts you off with a hand. “Do me a favour and fuck off, alright? I don’t need you to be sorry. In fact, ‘am the one who feels sorry for you. You’re a joke, love. Everybody ‘ere knows it.”

You shake your head, though your resolve is wobbly now. Your chin, too. “You can insult me if it makes you feel better. I get it, alright? I know what it’s like—”

He slings his bag over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. “You don’t know anything. You’re just Rebecca’s fuckin’ lapdog. If you tell anyone at the club about this, you won’t even be that anymore. You hear me?”

You freeze, heart pounding, gut churning. Is he threatening your job?

Jamie is already marching out, not bothering to look over his shoulder as he calls, “If I wanted a therapist, I’d pay for one. Don’t need someone as pathetic as you tryna cheer me up.”

And that was it. The door slams, leaving you in the locker room alone. It sounds all too much like the loud noises you’d heard growing up, and you hug your torso tightly as the tears finally come.

You’d only wanted to be there for him. Help him. You’d put all of your humiliation aside in an attempt to try to communicate with him… and it had gotten you here.

Jamie Tartt, you decide, is a prick, and he doesn't deserve an ounce of sympathy.

Still, it takes months after to bury the dregs you still feel. That connection, the one that tells you you have something in common. The question it brings: is Jamie Tartt just as lost as you are, deep down?

***

Jamie was wrong about one thing, at least. You aren't just Rebecca’s lapdog anymore. The following year, you're promoted. No more coffee runs. Now, you help manage the club in more meaningful ways, and that means a lot of time spent with the team. Eventually, you earn their respect with your chirpy morning visits, and soon, you're friends with most of them. Jamie, of course, is not included.

When your birthday comes around, the last thing you expect is a celebration, but the team have organised a secret dinner at your favourite restaurant across town, a fact you're still marvelling about as you eat your final bite of cake. You’ve spent a long time on your own, afraid of getting hurt, but tears of joy spring to your eyes as you look around the large candle-lit table at so many friendly faces. Ted’s silly toast earlier have already left mascara stains on your cheeks.

For the first time, you feel safe in this big, dysfunctional family. Even if Jamie is sitting on the other side of the table, as far away from you as possible, refusing to so much as look your way. When everybody sings "Happy Birthday", he moves his lips just enough to look as though he's joining in, but that's about the only acknowledgement he’s shown you all night. Since the incident in the locker room, he’s stopped teasing you, instead becoming straight up frosty. You almost miss the mean jokes about your incompetence at this point. The earring he wears tonight doesn't help. It's difficult to hate him when he looks so handsome.

“Mine!” Dani exclaims suddenly, stealing your last bite of cake before you can finish it. Chocolate frosting covers his mouth as he shovels it in with a cheeky grin and a hum of delight.

“Now that’s not fair!” You laugh, trying to steal back your plate so you can at least enjoy the crumbs.

But then a voice cuts through the joyful din of table chatter, and the smile falls from your face at the sound of your name being uttered by a familiar, rough voice.

You look up slowly, half-convinced you're just imagining him. After all, your father had left you alone for the last few years, finally giving you a taste of peace. You should have known better than to believe it would last forever.

“Dad,” you whisper at the man towering over you.

His eyes lazily survey the table. “My invite must have gotten lost in the post. Along with my thank you for the card I sent.”

The conversations around you turn hushed, the team’s attention burning into you. You try not to shrink in your chair, even when your sinuses begin to burn with tears that are altogether different from the ones you’d shed a moment ago.

You hadn’t thanked your father for a card, because you hadn’t received one. You’d moved flats recently and decided not to share your new address. You want a haven, one he would never find.

And yet, somehow, he’d found you anyway. How?

Behind him is probably your answer. His new girlfriend is almost as young as you and far more attractive. Your dad always made a habit of shacking up with models half his age. When he's sober, he might be mistaken for a good man, but it's all a mask. A manipulation. Your mother discovered that the hard way, and so had you.

“Well?” your dad prods, raising a brow. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

You sip your wine for courage. Somehow, your eyes lock on Jamie’s as you do, and you see his expression. Mouth parted, eyes darting as he puts the pieces together. If he would have given you a chance, he wouldn’t have to work so hard to know what's going on.

“How about we talk outside for a moment?” You paste as kind a smile as you can muster on your face and stand, smoothing the wrinkles from your clothes. When Ted stops you, concern in his eyes, you only nod with reassurance. At least here, your father can't yell or hurt you. It doesn't quell the fear inside, though.

Together, you step into the cool night air. Your dad sniffs, shoving his fists into his pockets. “You have a lot of nerve, trying to cut me out of your life like this. After all the things I did for you growing up, this is what I get? The cold shoulder? Am I not even worth being introduced to your little football friends?”

Your fingernails dig into your palms, jaw clenched. He's always been so good at the guilt trip. “I’m trying to have a nice night, Dad. How about we have this conversation another time?”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re just like your mother. Cruel. Selfish.” He casts his gaze over your outfit, one Keeley helped you pick out yesterday. “You must think that you’re so much better than me, now you have your fancy job and a group of young lads to keep you busy. What do you do for them? Wash their socks?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, already done with the conversation. As you make to go back inside, though, his hand tightens around your wrist, rooting you in place. Your skin stings against his rough clasp, made worse when you try to pull away.

As he leans in close, you smell alcohol and garlic on his breath. It makes you sick, makes you feel like you’d never left that house at all. When he touches you like this, you're still a helpless child, afraid and heartbroken that your father can't love you right.

“You’re nothing,” he snarls. “I’m glad to be rid of you.”

“Then let me go,” you reply with more courage than you feel.

He does, but only because the door opens behind him. From the buttery glow of the restaurant, Jamie emerges. “You coming back in, love?” he asks you, a cautious eye on your father all the while. “Keeley’s going on about presents. She’ll burst if ya don’t open ‘em soon.”

You step away from your dad and nod. “Goodbye, Dad.”

He offers you a final look of scorn before beckoning to his girlfriend inside. She comes out and they disappear down the street together. Your dad doesn't look back, and you don't expect him to.

Only when he's gone do you realise that you're shaking. You prop yourself against the wall, trying to let the cool air balance you again, but it isn't easy with your father’s words echoing in your mind and Jamie watching intently.

“I need a minute,” you say. You want to thank him, ask him why he helped, but your chest is too tight to formulate many words at all.

Instead of leaving like you expect, he inches closer, tilting his head. “Are you alright?”

It's instinct to repeat his words from the locker room. “Fucking fantastic.”

He bows his head, rubbing his chin slowly. “I deserved that, di’n’t I?”

You say nothing, only resting the back of your head against the brick wall, letting the cold seep into you. You can't help but imagine a life where it doesn't hurt this bad. Where your father loves you the way he's supposed to. This is the first birthday you've spent neither alone nor miserable, and he still found a way to ruin it.

“Look…” Jamie kicks an invisible stone on the pavement. “Don’t let him ruin your special night, yeah? Come back inside. It’s cold out.”

“I need a minute,” you repeat, angry this time. Why? Why has Jamie chosen now to give a shit?

“Alright.” He nods, moving to stand beside you. And then he unzips his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. The warmth and smell of his deodorant makes you feel safe, like you're back in the locker room with the team and the real world is miles away. Richmond had always been that for you: an escape. Even when you were a useless assistant full of coffee stains, reprimanded by Rebecca for doing everything wrong, it had been better than sitting at home with your father.

You pull his coat tighter around yourself, frowning in confusion. “Look, I appreciate you coming out, but… what do you want, Jamie? I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Just thought you’d want someone around who gets it.” He shrugs. “I know that’s what you were tryin’ to tell me that day. I mean, I di'n’t know then because I was an ignorant prick who took out all my shit on you. But when I saw ya dad come over to the table, it all clicked.”

“Yeah, well, the time for daddy issue bonding has been and gone.” Your tone is bitter. You never quite let his cruelty go, and it rises to the surface again now.

“I’m trying to say I'm sorry,” he says, softer now. “You were tryin' to be there for me that day, and I was a twat. But I’m here for you now.”

Your mouth curls with doubt. As much as you want to believe that Jamie has suddenly developed a heart, you're waiting for him to laugh in your face. “Well, thanks but no thanks. Let’s not, alright?”

“Fair.” He rocks back on his heels, but doesn't take his jacket when you yank it off and shove it into his chest. He purses his lips as though trying to keep from saying more, which only makes you more uneasy. You barely recognise him like this, guards down, mood balanced, uncertain.

“Jamie.” It's a plea, because if he doesn't go back inside, you’ll break in front of him. The last thing you need is to have your scars used as the butt of his next joke.

Finally, he takes the jacket, his warm fingers brushing your cold ones. He sighs, shaking his head slowly. “For the record, he’s wrong about you. You're not nothing. He is. He do’n’t deserve you.”

That's all it takes for the tears to spill over. Jamie softens. Whispers: “C��mere,” before tugging you into his chest. He smells just like his coat, like the locker room and overpowering smoky vanilla. “It’s alright, love,” he hums into your ear.

You shake your head, because it isn't. It would never really be okay, and he must surely feel that, too.

He rubs warmth back into your arms, holds you steady as a sob leaves you.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I know. Look at me, yeah?” He cups your jaw gently, catching your tears with the pad of his thumb.

Sniffling, you try to look away, but his gaze pierces into you and you can’t. None of this makes sense, and yet you can’t walk away from whatever Jamie wants to say. Maybe that was always your problem: you never could.

“I was a proper dickhead before,” he said. “The things I said to you... Fuck, you’re not a joke. Not one bit. You’re gorgeous, and you’re kind, and you’re more than he’ll ever be. More than I’ll ever be.”

“Stop, Jamie.” You try to pull away, but he's gentle in his insistence, taking your wrists instead. It feels nothing like the pain of your father’s grip. Soft enough that you can escape, if you wanted to. But you’re sad, and you’re confused, and he’s being careful with you, and you don’t want to break this moment. A part of you has craved it for a long time.

“I mean it, love.” His knuckle grazes your cheek. “You have a whole family who loves you in there. D’you know how special that is?”

“Do you?” you retort. “You’re part of it, too, even if you choose to act like you’re not.”

His throat bobs, eyes drifting to the restaurant. “‘Am starting to realise it, yeah.” He hesitates. “It’s hard, innit, though? Letting the good in when you’ve never had it before.”

Maybe that’s why he’s been so different with you recently. Not because he hates you, but because he’s just learning. It takes practice to open your heart again. You want to believe that, deep down, Jamie is a good person. The kind of person who deserved your kindness that day.

All you can say is, “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“Maybe it’d be easier if… if we could be friends.” He’s timid, ducking his head like a schoolboy.

It’s endearing, aggravatingly so. He could get away with murder as long as he keeps smirking at you like that.

Defeated, you slump and take his hand. “I only ever wanted you to know that I understand, Jamie. That you’re not alone.”

“I know. Just wasn’t ready to hear it.” He pulls you close. “I am now, love. I promise.”

You shiver, and he wraps his arms around you again, slowly leading you back into the warmth of the restaurant. For once, it feels like you’re leaving the hurt behind as you return to your friends. Jamie doesn’t sit down at the other end of the table this time, either. In fact, his hand stays in yours until the restaurant closes hours later.

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triptuckers · 4 days ago

Text

richmond's receptionist

part 2.

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, basically all of richmond is mentioned tho

summary: where you're the receptionist at richmond fc and you slowly but surely form a close bond with star striker jamie tartt

words: 6864

warnings: none just swearing and a little bit of rude jamie

—

day in and day out you watch the people of richmond fc enter and exit the home of their beloved football team. you spend your days behind the blue reception desk doing admin; sending emails, taking calls, and making sure everything is running smoothly. you've been the receptionist at Richmond for a little over three months, and you had no complaints so far. your favourite part of the day was watching Rebecca arrive to work. you always hear her heels before you see her, then she struts past your desk with a swift 'good morning' every day. not one day has gone by where she hasn't greeted you that way, and the acknowledgment lightens your mood each time.

as you're checking the company emails one morning, you hear Rebecca's footsteps approaching. you look up to smile at her, expecting the usual greeting, but instead she goes off-script.

"ah, good morning y/n. i'm not sure if you've seen the email but we are implementing a new daily register system. every morning, when our staff and players arrive, they must tick the box next to their name and note what time they arrive at. for visitors, they will have to sign their name on the bottom." you nod along attentively to her new instructions.

"okay, great! so, in the evenings, should everyone just do the same thing; tick the box, add the time?"

"you catch on fast. see, this is why I knew we needed a better receptionist," she smiles at you genuinely, adjusting her handbag on her arm before turning to walk to her office. "oh, and everyone should have received the email so I hope that saves you wasting time to explain this to everybody."

thanking her with a kind smile, you bid your goodbyes. you open your personal staff email, only to find an email from Higgins including a pdf of the sign in sheet. you take it upon yourself to print a week's worth, attaching them to a clipboard and placing it on top of the tall desk. you smile to yourself, looking forward to getting to know everyone's names and have more opportunities for small talk in the mornings.

the clock is nearing 8:30am, and you're already deep in your inbox forwarding and responding to emails. you've only had to explain the new system to a handful of staff, including Laughing Liam who, naturally, laughed at it. the players should be arriving soon, so you take the time to straighten your blouse and sit up straight in your chair. presumably, these men don't check their emails first thing in the morning, so you're expecting to have to repeat yourself a lot this morning.

"good morning y/n!" Colin chirps. he's the first of the team to arrive, as per usual.

"hey Colin! I thought I heard tires screech outside." you joke. "I'm not sure if you saw the email-"

"stop right there. i saw the email this morning." cutting you off, he picks up a Richmond pen before sliding the clipboard towards him and signing in. you chuckle to yourself and wave him goodbye.

soon after, the rest of the Richmond players flood into the building. some are in pairs, others in groups, and they even form a small queue as they wait their turn to sign in. Dani's excited by the new organisation plan, Roy grunts but still cracks a small smile, and Ted holds up the line talking to you whilst Beard signs both of them in. the only person to arrive alone, and last, is Jamie Tartt. he rolls right past you, not once looking up from his phone. you quickly call after him: "Uhm, Jamie!" you've never spoken to him, nevertheless called him by his first name.

his head lifts at the unexpected sound of your voice, and he looks around trying to find the source.

"sorry, Mr. Tartt. I didn't mean to shout... or call you Jamie," your voice goes quiet as he turns around to look at you, eyebrows raised in confusion. "what?" he replies, slowly walking towards the desk.

"basically, there's a bit of a new system here now. every morning and every evening you'll have to check in and out on this sheet. just tick the box next to your name and then add the time you arrive and leave." you explain with a smile, holding his questioning gaze the entire time.

"right, right, okay... what if, instead of me wasting me time clocking in and out, you just do it for me. you see me arrive, you sign me in. you see me leave, you sign me out. simple as." he states, and he sends you a quick wink before spinning around and heading straight for the locker room.

your mouth snaps open and shut a few times, surprised at his refusal to cooperate. you knew he had been a pain, despite his talent, but ever since he returned from manchester city he'd dropped his act a little. still, all you could do was watch his back, his bright orange jacket disappearing around the corner.

—

the sign-in system is easily integrated into richmond fc's daily routine, everyone dedicating those few minutes every day to tick the box and smile at you. some even taking the time to have a chat with you and soon enough, you know everyone's names.

while your typing up an email to Keeley about a new sponsor, someone walks up to your desk and drums his hands atop it. your eyes snap up and a smile takes over your face at the sight of Ted.

"hi Coach, how are you doing?"

"I'm doing great, y/n, thanks for asking! I would ask how you're doing but I'm here about someone else..." Ted's gaze narrows and your smile shrinks slightly.

"what's up?" you turn your chair to face him to show your full attention is on him.

"my pal Higgins has informed me that one of my players hasn't been signing in with you every day."

"yeah..." you trail off, "Jamie hasn't really been making the effort. I'm sorry if I should have been doing it for him I just wasn't sure if that would be... against safety regulations... or something?"

Ted raises his eyebrows at you, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "did he ask you to sign him in and out every day?"

"yes, he did. he said I should just watch out for him coming and going then write down the time."

"oh okay, I see. I will talk to him at lunch. Don't you worry, y/n."

as he walks away, you sigh in relief, worried you were getting in trouble for Jamie's slacking. you turn back to your computer, cracking your knuckles before getting back to your work.

later that day, as you log out of your computer and start packing up your stuff, the team pours out of the locker room. some sign themselves out, some sign themselves and their mates out. you make sure to keep your eyes peeled for anyone trying to avoid the responsibility, but the only person who strides past the group with no remorse is, once again, Jamie Tartt. your eyes meet Ted's who is looking at you with an apologetic look. you shrug in response, brushing it off. Jamie is his own person, you're not in charge of him.

the next morning, the day starts as usual; Rebecca is the first to arrive, followed by some members of staff, before the coaching team and players pour in from the car park. despite people greeting you and talking, you only half-respond. you're too busy looking over everyone's heads trying to spot the stubborn player you just haven't been able to crack.

"I've spoken to that prick. he can't keep fucking you over. let me know if he causes any problems." Roy grumbles, interrupting your focus.

"cheers, Roy," you smile at him warmly, wondering if his words will have had any effect on Jamie.

when the clock strikes 9, you sink back into your chair. the last of the staff have arrived for their day, and training is about to start – but still, no Jamie Tartt.

you grab the clip board and flick through the pages, making sure you didn't miss him signing in. still, on every page, the boxes next to his name are left blank. you sigh, shaking your head, unsure of how to tell Rebecca you got through to everyone expect for one measly player.

"y/n?"

"that's me," you say, before looking up from the list of names.

there's two coffee cups in front of you, both with the name Jamie scribbled on the sides in black marker. you lift your gaze, and funnily enough, Jamie is stood in front of you.

"listen yeah, I jus' wanted to say sorry for not doin' the whole... sign-in sheet shit. Roy had a proper go at me yesterday, so... I brought you coffee. hope this makes up for it." he can barely meet your eyes as he speaks, but ends his apology with a small smile.

"oh, wow, thank you. that's very kind, Jamie." you genuinely smile at him, hoping his might lift even a little bit more. instead, his eyes soften.

"I just got you a latte. I hope that's okay, I weren't sure what you liked and didn't have time to ask Keeley so,"

"that's perfect, Jamie, thank you so much. you really didn't have to do this."

"yes, I did, I think. it's not fair for you to be worrying about your job because of me."

thanking him again, you take one of the takeaway cups, taking a small sip of the warm coffee. Jamie nods at you as if to say goodbye, and you return the nod with a cheeky wink. you can't be sure, but you think you see Jamie's smile finally reach his eyes as he turns around.

the following morning, as you're talking to Isaac about becoming the new team captain, you're interrupted by none other than Jamie. your face lightens up at the sight of him, and you laugh as he pushes Isaac with his shoulder, making him leave the front desk.

"what's this for?" you ask as he sets another coffee cup down in front of you.

"I dunno... I was already getting meself coffee, so I thought I might as well get you another latte."

"you don't have to do that, Jamie. but if it means you come to the desk to sign in then I won't complain."

you can't seem to take your eyes off his hands as he picks up the pen Isaac had just used. his fingers seem to move slowly over the page, smoothing over everyone's names until he reached his. you admire the rings on his fingers, taking a special interest in the gold signet on his pinky as it supports the pen gliding along the form.

"do you like it?"

you blink a few times before snapping out of your daydream, looking up to see Jamie smirking down at you.

"hm?" you ask, gulping down the embarrassment of being caught in your daze.

"do you like my ring?"

"what? your pinky ring? uhm, sure, yeah. it's nice..."

"good save, love. it's me granddad's. he gave it me when I first went to play for Man City."

"it's beautiful..." you say, smiling before looking down at the ring again. you notice how delicately his hands move as he puts the pen down. you didn't expect such a machismo to have such nice hands but you can tell Jamie takes good care of himself.

he smiles, huffing out a small chuckle at your admiration. "see ya later, y/n." "

"bye, Jamie." you smile, taking the clipboard from him. you glance down at his name, spotting a small heart drawn beside it. it's uneven and a bit jagged, but the doodle still tugs at your heart strings.

from then on, every single morning, you are greeted by a latte and a chat from Jamie. every day, he lingers more and more as you talk to each other, and you always end up drinking half of your coffees before he pulls himself away from your desk. in the evenings, he's always one of the first to sign out. instead of saying goodbye, he simply winks at you. you hate to admit it but you start memorising what times Jamie arrives and leaves. as much as you love talking to him, and especially him winking at you every time he leaves, you love waiting for him. you love the nerves that build in your stomach as you watch the clock, and by the time he finally reaches you, you're already slightly blushing. when he turns to leave your desk, your eyes follow his figure and you let the blush take over your cheeks completely.

—

"hey, y/n, have you got a minute?" Isaac walks up to your desk.

"Isaac! of course!" you chirp, taking the last sip of your latte. Isaac reads the name written across the cup and raises his eyebrows knowingly.

"ah, speak of the devil,"

"what?" you turn the cup around, running your thumb across Jamie's name, "oh, yeah,"

"about Jamie... I really hate to involve you in actual football shit but he's been slacking a bit in training."

"oh, okay, would you like me to pass on the message to Rebecca?"

"no, no, it's just... he's been showing up late to training and then leaves early. during trainings, he's always... agreeing?" you raise your eyebrows at Isaac's words, "he never puts up a fight anymore, and we kind of need that Jamie Tartt for our big game this Saturday."

"I'm sorry, Isaac, but I'm not really sure what I can do about this. I really would love to help but there's not much I can do."

"I really hate to ask this from you, but," he takes a deep breath, a small smile appearing on his face, "I need you to piss him off a bit this week."

you laugh out loud, attempting to brush off his obvious joke by turning back to your computer.

"I'm not joking." his smile drops instantly, and your laugh falters before your face goes serious. "he likes you, so if you start acting cold towards him, it would really throw him off." Isaac's smile returns, and you giggle at his idea. trying not to read into his phrasing too much, you take a deep breath and nod.

"got it, Captain." you salute towards him. his eyebrows furrow as he curtly nods at you before turning around and jogging away.

what does he mean with Jamie liking you? a blush creeps up your face at the thought of him mentioning your name every time he's late, making up some excuse about the sign in taking too long. you start to brainstorm how you're going to turn the cold shoulder to Jamie this afternoon, feeling ever so slightly bad but trusting Isaac's judgement at the same time.

sure enough, Jamie is the first person out of training. you look up at him, and he smiles at you from the end of the hallway before jogging towards you.

"hi, y/n," his fingers drum on the desk, clearly excited to see you.

"if you'd just like to sign out for me there please, Jamie." you speak up, not looking up from your screen.

Jamie's immediately taken aback by your tone and from the corner of your eye you can see him pull his head back in confusion.

he chuckles awkwardly, attempting to diffuse the situation, "uhm, okay... what's the time, y/n?"

you don't respond, instead you point up at the clock on the wall behind you.

Jamie scoffs, quickly scribbling down the time and dropping the pen with a little bit of force. you don't react, as much as you wish you could just look up and meet his eyes.

"okay, bye then." he sighs deeply then heads towards the car park. as you see Isaac approach your desk, the rest of the team in tow, you hear an engine roar off into the distance.

"sounds like you've already pissed him off," Isaac says, "how did you manage that?"

"I just didn't look at him." you shrug nonchalantly.

"mhm, yeah he hates that. good job, bruv." he holds out his fist for you to bump. your knuckles meet his as you wink at him.

—

"hi, y/n, you alright, yeah?"

you hear Jamie place down a coffee cup. he whistles a little tune trying to get your attention, but when you still don't look up at him, he just picks up the pen and quickly signs in.

"listen, I'm not sure if you're just busy or what, but we play the Spurs tomorrow and I'd really like to see you there."

before you can even look up at him, Jamie turns around and leaves. you wait until he's a few feet away before looking up to take your coffee. you stare at his back, sighing to yourself. you understand the Captain's orders but it doesn't feel right ignoring Jamie. you would never tell him but your little routine has become your favourite part of your day at Richmond. you watch as his pinky signet ring catches the bright lights of the hallway and you take the opportunity to rake your eyes over Jamie's figure. his grey skinny jeans hug his legs perfectly, and his black jacket accentuates his broad shoulders. you lift your gaze to see his hair is gelled back neatly. you continue to stare at him, and as he's just about to turn the corner, he turns his head to take one last look at you. your eyes just about meet before you quickly snap your head down, pretending you weren't looking at him.

"y/n! I heard you fixed Jamie!" Keeley squeals as her and Roy walk up to the desk.

"I know, I hate it!" you reply, slumping your shoulders.

"don't worry, y/n. he'll be back to normal after tomorrow's game." Roy helps.

"sure but I don't want him to hate me."

"trust me; he doesn't fucking hate you." he adds, raising an eyebrow.

Keeley nods, "it's true. he's got a soft spot for you."

"he still invited me to the game." you shrug, hopeful that means he doesn't hate you.

"ah! brilliant! I'll talk to Rebecca, I'm gonna get you a seat with us. that way, you can watch the match without him even knowing you're there!" Keeley bounces excitedly on the balls of her feet.

"doesn't that defeat the point of me being there?"

"no babe, it's all about the teasing. he's gonna be fuming when he thinks you're not there, and then after the game you can surprise him! it'll work wonders, I swear."

you give her a questioning look, turning to Roy for a second opinion. he stays completely silent, simply giving you a single nod.

"if you think it'll work, let's do it." you hesitate slightly, but ultimately agree. you won't mind teasing Jamie a little bit. it's all he ever does.

your eyes drift to the picture of him plastered on the wall beside you. the cocky smirk on his face taunts you as you consider just texting him an apology.

"good morning! whatever you said to Jamie really worked, y/n. he never passes to me anymore!" a chipper Sam says to you as he signs himself in.

"is that a really a good thing?"

"it is for now. but please, after tomorrow, bring him back to normal. he's almost my friend and I want to keep it that way." he gives you a sad smile before bidding you goodbye.

throughout the day, you take calls and file more admin work. you talk to Higgins, Ted, and Keeley, filling them in on the plan for the Tottenham match tomorrow. it's a struggle to sit at your desk with Jamie constantly filling up his bottle from the water fountain in front of you. there's plenty of others for him to use, but he's clearly making the extra effort to see you in the hopes you'll talk to him. much to your dismay, you continue to ignore him. it's only been two days that you've been ignoring Jamie, but it's still hard avoiding the one thing that makes your day just that little bit better.

all packed up to go home, you wait for the last sign outs of the day. Rebecca's heels descend the stairs, and once again you hear her before you see her.

"y/n, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting."

"no worries. that's my job," you smile at her, moving to exit your desk. you step down from the raised platform, about to shrug your jacket on.

"ah- ah- ah, I'm afraid I'm not the last to go home." Rebecca interrupts your movement, pointing a finger down the hallway.

"oh, uh, who's left?" you ask her, already taking your jacket off again.

"I think there's someone in the gym. oh, and there's a package for you in the coach's office. don't forget to pick that up before you leave."

you shake your head, confused; "uhm, okay then. I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Welton." you smile at her politely, giving her a small nod.

"Rebecca." she assures you with a small which mirrors yours. as she turns to leave, you hold back a sigh and place your jacket and bag atop the desk. you iron down your shirt and fix the pleats on your trousers before venturing down the hallway.

you can hear small puffs and the whirring of a treadmill as you get closer to the coach's office. choosing to cut through the locker room, you look at the large empty space. you look over each name on the far side, reading them out loud quietly to yourself. moving towards Sam's locker, you smile at the photo of the Nigerian national team he keeps on his shelf. turning around, you read the names on the other side of the room. eyes landing on the locker at the end of the row, you finally let out the sigh you were holding in. "Tartt" you say out loud to yourself. butterflies fill your stomach before a nervous twist takes over. "he likes you" Isaac's words replay in your head. "he's got a soft spot for you" you remember what Keeley said. you ponder on their words, wondering why you of all people were Isaac's choice. Surely Roy could've talked some sense into him, or Ted if he got angry?

you shake the thoughts from your head, quickly looking away from Jamie's locker just in case your clouded mind takes charge again. looking through the window into the office, you see a white parcel on Beard's desk. there's a bright yellow sticky note on top of it:

'For y/n. You'll need this tomorrow! - Coaches'

you smile softly before pulling off the sticky note and picking up the package. the sound of the treadmill is louder now that you're right next to the gym, and the huffing and puffing increases too. loud beeps sound out and suddenly the footsteps on the treadmill seem to be going impossibly fast. pushing your curiosity aside, you cut the corner of the white bag, ripping it open. inside it is a neatly folded jersey – a Richmond jersey. you pick it up by the shoulders, holding it up in front of you. when you turn it around, you let a laugh escape your lips, hoping the treadmill covers the sound. it reads the same as Jamie's locker: Tartt 9.

shaking your head in disbelief, you fold it up neatly and place it back in its package. you hug it tight to your chest as you move quietly towards the window into the gym. you peer in, and to your surprise, you see Jamie almost destroying the treadmill with how fast he's going. his feet barely seem to hit the rubber, running like he is being chased by something twice his size. your smile falls and your brows crease together. he seems pissed, even though you can't see his face, his ferocious speed tells you enough. you turn back around, grabbing the post-it notes from Ted's desk and writing something down. you end your note with a small heart, hoping the coach sees it before the match.

—

"come on Richmond!"

the ear deafening crowds cheer and chant for Richmond FC as they file into the stadium. you're sitting in the owner's suite behind Rebecca and Keeley, with Higgins next to you.

"did you get my package?" Keeley asks, teethy smile across her face.

"I knew it was you! you cheeky little shit!" you laughed loudly, clapping her hands into yours. you take your jacket off, turn around and bring your arms up, pointing two thumbs at the back of your shirt.

"ah, young love..." Higgins sighs.

immediately turning back around, you scoff at him; "pfft, we're not in love! in fact, I'm not even sure we're friends right now."

"don't worry about it, y/n. I promise." Rebecca assuredly says to you, before turning to watch the match begin.

the whistle is about to blow, so you quickly try to find Jamie on the pitch. your eyes scan over the group, and you soon spot him in the middle of the pitch jumping up and down. he spits on the ground and claps his hands together, clearly riled up and ready to lead Richmond to a win.

the crowd roars as the whistle blows, and Jamie initiates kick off. you didn't think you would ever see him run as fast as he was on the treadmill yesterday, but somehow he is beating his own personal record. in the blink of an eye, he runs from one end of the pitch to the other. by some miracle, he seems to always have the ball in possession. after passing it back and forth, any time he's anywhere near the goal, the ball is at his feet.

in the 40th minute of the game, Jamie is crashing through Tottenham players, bumping shoulders with every single one as he makes his way towards their goal. you can see his cheeks puffing air in and out of his lungs rapidly, and after finding himself completely unobstructed, he kicks the ball with so much force that his mouth opens and you can almost hear his shout.

everything seems to go in slow motion. you hold your breath and raise your hands to cover your mouth. the ball flies through the air, magically curving towards the goal. the keeper jumps, hands in the air, and his finger tips merely brush the ball. but he's unable to push it hard enough, the ball crashing straight into the middle of the net.

the stadium erupts in cheers and roars, and you jump into the air with a loud scream. you hug Higgins in excitement and shake Keeley's shoulders before high-fiving Rebecca. you watch the team celebrate by running up to Jamie, who is stood completely still in the spot from where he scored. you can see his chest heaving, catching his breath as his teammates hug him and clap his back. but he doesn't seem to celebrate with them, instead you watch as he looks up and into the crowd without even a smile on his face. your expression falls, feeling your colleagues' eyes on you. Keeley grabs your hand, snapping your attention from the pitch to her; "go." she says, squeezing your hand. you purse your lips and nod at her, squeezing back, before pushing past Higgins and running inside.

as you rush through the VIP bar, you hear the half-time whistle. you head down the stairs and out the back of the stadium. you curse yourself for wearing your boots as you try to run to the main building. running doesn't seem to be your best bet, so you settle on a speed walk as you get closer and closer to the door. finally, you push open the door, passing by the reception desk you would normally sit at.

you continue your journey down the hallway and then turn right, heading straight for the locker room. you can hear the team from far away, cheering in celebration. as you turn the corner, you see all of them fall into the locker room in a line. they're so excited they don't notice you leaning against the wall watching them. the only person who isn't too busy celebrating, though, is Jamie Tartt, who is trailing behind the team like a sad puppy. his hands are wrapped in his shirt, and he's looking at his feet which he's scoffing across the floor. clearing your throat, you hope it catches his attention, his mind clearly elsewhere.

his head snaps up and looks in your direction. stopping dead in his tracks, he drops his hands from his shirt and fixes his headband. quickly glancing into the changing room, he goes unnoticed by the team as he dips his head and does a few long strides towards you.

"Jamie, I-"

"are you alright? like really alright? did I do somethin'?

"Jamie," you sigh deeply, not knowing how to explain Isaac's orders. "I'm sorry for ignoring you the past few days. it wasn't my idea, I promise."

"your idea? what're you talkin' about?" Jamie crosses his arms and shakes his head, a lock of hair moving forward into his eye.

you reach a hand up, gently moving the strand out of his vision. you watch as his eyes soften, dropping to the floor before they meet your gaze again. a sad crease appears between his eyebrows when you bring your hand down to your side again.

after taking a deep breath, you begin to explain; "Isaac said you were playing too friendly during training, slacking a little bit – and yeah, turning up late and then leaving early. he wanted you to be ready for today's match, y'know. so he asked me to rile you up a little bit, just so they could have the old Jamie Tartt back."

Jamie pouts, brows furrowed in confusion, as he blinks at you a few times. avoiding your eyes, he starts slowly nodding, tongue poking his cheek as he thinks to himself. after a few long seconds, the corner of his mouth lifts as he huffs a sarcastic laugh. you look up at him with wide eyes, hoping you haven't upset him. licking his lips, Jamie's smile widens as his laugh grows. you crack a small smile at him and try to find his gaze again, moving a step closer to him. placing a hand on his strong bicep, you try to get him to look at you. instead, he shrugs you off, leaning down and digging a finger into his sock. you stare, confused, waiting for his next move.

"so- if Isaac told you to ignore me a bit... what the fuck is this?" he unfolds a pink post-it note holding it up to you before reading it out loud; "dear Tartt, I don't even like lattes". Jamie raises his eyebrows at you while you stifle a laugh. "what makes this worse is the stupid fucking heart at the bottom of the page!"

"I was just trying to piss you off! Isaac told me!"

Jamie finally lets out a loud laugh, and you do the same, dropping your head into your hands in embarrassment. you don't have the gall to look up at him, suddenly so ashamed of the stupid gag you pulled. you feel warm hands wrap around your wrists, and you lift your head to look at Jamie as he pulls your hands away from your face.

"darlin' I hope you know the only reason I've been late to training is because I can't stop talking to you. and I leave early just so I can see you before the rest of the lads hound ya..."

you blush – hard – and you stare into Jamie's dark blue eyes. his hands slide from your wrists to your hands, softly holding your fingers in his. you sneak a glance at your touch, and when you look back up Jamie's even closer to you. as he towers over you, you can't help but look down at his lips before meeting his eyes again.

"now, don't lie to me... do you really not like lattes?"

"I love lattes." you whisper, smiling sweetly up at him as he shakes his head with a chuckle.

"can I take you out tonight? I wanna celebrate our win since you're the reason for it."

you scoff and shake your head: "Jamie, it's half-time."

"I can give you a lift home after, yeah?" he ignores your obvious statement.

"what if you lose?" you tease.

now it's Jamie's turn to scoff at you, squeezing your hands slightly as he says: "as long as you're in the crowd I'm sure that's not gonna happen."

"Jamie! we need you, buddy!" Ted interrupts the moment, sticking his head out of the door of the locker room to beckon him in.

"see you later, Jamie." you pull your hands from his, although against your will, as if you had it your way you would kiss him right then and there. he doesn't move as you turn around, about to turn the corner into the hallway before you feel a hand grab yours again. Jamie pulls your hand, making you spin around to face him again. as he tugs your hand, he wraps his other arm around your shoulders in a hug. your face presses into his hard chest as he holds you close for a moment. you let out a deep breath as you enjoy the heat radiating off his body.

as he moves back to let go of you, he leans down so his lips brush your ear before whispering: "nice shirt, by the way. my name suits ya."

your breath hitches at his flirtatious tone and a blush already starts creeping up your neck. he pulls back and flicks his eyes up and down your body. as he turns around to join his team, he winks at you, and even though he winks at you every day, this one hits you a lot harder.

as you watch Jamie retreat to the locker room, you lock eyes with Ted at its door. you try to fight the shy smile growing on your face, but fail miserably as a blush takes over your face. Ted lifts his hand to his forehead and salutes at you. you mirror him, bringing two fingers up to your head and saluting him back.

you walk back to the stadium fanning your face with your hands, desperately trying to cool yourself down. after sighing in relief, you laugh to yourself thinking about how your time at Richmond has changed over the past few weeks – and it was all due to Jamie Tartt.

when you return to your seat, Keeley squeals at you, making Rebecca jump. you shuffle past Higgins and sit back in your seat, touching up your hair and taking a deep breath.

"he asked me on a date!" you finally exclaim to Keeley and Rebecca, and the two respond with even louder squeals, which you join in on. your celebration is interrupted by the ref blowing his whistle, and you all focus on the game again.

the guys walk onto the pitch in single file, Isaac leading them out. their faces are stone cold, clearly ready to destroy their opponents. you stand up from your seat, eager to see Jamie after your encounter in the hallway. you finally spot him, and you can see him bouncing on his feet as approaches the pitch. once he's at the halfway line, and all the other players are finding their spot, you see him turn towards your side of the stadium. he looks up at the suite you're sitting in, and you quickly put your hands in the air, hoping he'll spot you. you assume he sees you, as he brings both hands to his lips and blows you a smooth kiss, before patting the Richmond badge on his chest and sticking his tongue out. you cackle at his antics, loving his dramatic entree. you quickly blow a kiss back and wave, praying they win this match so messing him around wasn't just for nothing.

you've never been more nervous watching a Richmond game. you've gone to a number of them since beginning your job as receptionist, but you've never been so enthralled by the sport itself – well, the players... one of the players.

Jamie sprints across the pitch, back and forth and back and forth, the ball at his feet. you, Keeley, and Rebecca scream and shout as you watch Richmond score three more goals. Colin scores with an impressive header, Dani bicycle kicks the ball straight into the net, and of course Jamie punts the ball past half the other players and the keeper, securing the last point for Richmond.

after the match, you find your way back to Richmond's headquarters, pushing open the same door you entered through earlier. this time, Keeley and Rebecca are walking in tow. you all stop at the reception desk, chatting about the game and your weekend plans.

"so how did he ask you out?" Rebecca lowers her voice, just in case Jamie turns the corner. you laugh nervously, shaking your head and waving your hands dismissively.

"no, no, no, he didn't ask me out. he asked me on a date. there's a difference."

"but he's so obviously into you! what's stopping you from just grabbing him by the hair and shagging him!" Keeley exclaims, a lot less subtle than Rebecca's careful tone. you sputter and laugh, Rebecca doing the same, both of you shocked at how direct Keeley spoke about you and Jamie.

"shut up you two! I'll let you know how it goes tonight, you go celebrate!"

Rebecca and Keeley hug you goodbye before walking down the hall. you turn around and giggle to yourself, blushing from Keeley's comment. lifting your head, your eyes fall on Jamie's wall sticker again. just thinking about how close he was to you earlier makes your heart race, your head dizzying at the memory of lips brushing your ear. fixing your hair, you move around the desk and sit in your usual chair. you try to calm your breathing and bring your heart rate down, not wanting to look like a yearning, blushing mess.

after managing to pull yourself together, your heart beat pounds against your chest again when you see the Richmond team crowd into the hallway. Isaac cheers when he sees you at your desk, and Colin, who is on his back, joins in.

"well done, boys!" you call to them while you wave at everyone passing you by.

"bye, y/n! see you on Monday!" Sam says to you with a big smile. you wave him goodbye and sigh happily, genuinely excited for the team.

their cheering goes quiet the further away they get from the door, and you wonder where Jamie is. you check your phone for any text messages, but there's nothing from Jamie. there is one from Keeley, however; 'don't forget to use protection!'

you scoff at her suggestive words, texting back a thumbs up with a kissy face. placing your phone down on your desk you look up, only to see Jamie sauntering towards you.

"hi, y/n," he says as he gets closer to the desk.

"hi, Jamie,"

"how ya been?"

"just fine, what about you, Jamie?"

"yeah, good, yeah... happy about our win."

"I can imagine. you were a proper superstar on that pitch."

wide smiles grow on both of your faces as you continue the small talk; "thanks, love. what can I say? Roy says I've got a right foot kissed by God, so ya'know this is just a regular day for me."

you chuckle at his feigned cockiness, standing up from your chair and leaning over your desk. "don't you want to go celebrate that win with your teammates, Jamie Tartt?"

"nah, that's alright, thanks. I've got other plans."

"oh yeah?" you tease.

"yeah, I've got dinner plans with a really pretty girl,"

you nod along with your eyebrows raised, smiling playfully at Jamie. his hair is still damp from the shower, but he's kept his same hairband look from on the pitch. he's wearing a bright orange t-shirt under a dark green jacket, an unexpectedly nice look on him.

"who's this girl then?"

"ah you'd love her; she's friendly, funny, gorgeous. she doesn't like lattes, though. and she pretended to ignore me but is still wearin' my name on her back."

you laugh, breaking character. you smile at him, raking your eyes up and down his body shamelessly. his eyes widen as you do so, surprised by how forward you're being. you bite your lip at him before saying: "you gonna treat her right, Tartt?"

he teases you back, matching your flirtatious tone. licking his lips, he lets his eyes drop to your lips: "if she'll let me."

———

just something from my mind hope u like it !

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