Tumgik
#Ted Lasso Fic
jamiesfootball · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
First entry for @badthingshappenbingo is a go-go!
Square: non-consensual touching
Summary:
Jamie's the one who dropped into position. Jamie's the one who helped Zava set a record. He did this to himself. Jamie let it happen.
22 notes · View notes
politelymenacing · 1 year
Text
Next time Roy is annoyed with Jamie he's going to drop into conversation in the locker room that Jamie said that Isaac was his best friend and all hell will break loose.
Colin will get angry because Isaac is HIS best friend.
Isaac will be like, "he's not not my best friend" and Colin will look hurt, but Isaac will be all like "but nah bruv, you're my best best friend".
Dani will ask "did checking your penis was still attached mean nothing to you, Jamie?"
Sam will be upset because surely Jamie picking his number for his England shirt meant something.
And all the himbos have something to say on the matter. Either because they want to be his bestie or because they have strong opinions on who it actually is.
And even though Jamie is getting yelled at from all different directions he is just beaming because all these people care about him and want to be friends with him and he never could have imagined it back in Series 1.
1K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
For Gemini by Jimsnose on AO3.
I was so very grateful to be asked to draw something for this lovely story. It's a Ted/Trent gala fic with some gorgeous dreamy imagery, sharp metaphors and as much angst as you can imagine (and it's so good!) And a happy ending as a treat.
Thank you Jimsnose for your amazing writing💜
338 notes · View notes
alloftheimagines · 1 year
Text
roy kent | just friends
MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | KO-FI
words: 3k
warnings: strong language because it's roy fucking kent, mentions of alcohol but not intoxication, bad date experiences with rude and not nice people, including comments on reader's body.
single parent!reader (they/them, bi/pan) x uncle roy in which he is your best friend and go-to babysitter when you have an awful date that ends early. protectiveness, hurt/comfort, and a heated confession ensues.
prompt: Roy Kent x Reader, Friends to lovers?
Tumblr media
You’ve never been more relieved to be home, even as the sound of screaming children drifts from your house. You press your forehead against the cool door, taking in a deep breath. “Past their bedtime. Again,” you mutter, but your best friend allowing your daughter to have a late night with his niece, Phoebe, is the least of your worries after what you just experienced. 
Horror. Pure horror. 
“Oi!” you hear the deep, gritty voice of Roy Kent echoing down your hallway. “Come back ‘ere and do my other hand! Can’t be walking around with only one set of fucking nails painted!” 
Giggles follow, and you smile despite yourself. They give you the energy to open the door finally, and you step in to find your hallway lit brightly, Phoebe flying out of the kitchen with chocolate smeared across her face and bright blue nail polish in her hand. 
“Don’t be getting that on my carpet!” you warn, alerting everyone to your presence. 
Your daughter, Maisie, skips out next, waving. “We’re painting Uncle Roy’s nails!”
“Lucky Roy!” She’d been calling him “uncle” for the past year, though neither of you is related to the footballer-turned-manager. Maisie picked it up from Phoebe, and Roy hadn’t seemed to mind, since you’re practically best friends anyway. You’re constantly trying to tire the kids out with play dates at one another’s house, or else exchanging babysitting duties so one of you can have a free night. Of course, Roy isn’t a single parent like you, but he watches Phoebe enough that you’ve formed a bond over the years, one that stemmed from your shared love of your chaotic children. 
That bond has blossomed into something much more than you bargained for, though. After all, he is Roy fucking Kent, and his rough exterior matched with his hidden, softer side was always going to be your downfall. But since he’s been in and out of relationships and never made a move, you’ve let the small crush lie, trying to distract yourself with dates. 
Terrible, terrible dates.
Like the one you had tonight. 
“You’re back early.” Roy emerges last, leaning against the doorframe as he blows on his wet-varnished nails. “It wasn’t the one who speaks like someone’s pressed fast-forward on the TV remote again, was it? I told you they’re a loser.” 
“No. No, it was someone far, far worse than Fast-forward Frank.” You sigh and try to ignore the flickering in your chest, because gruff footballer Roy Kent is currently being pampered by two ten-year-olds and seems to be enjoying every minute. 
“Fuck,” he deadpans. “I’ll grab the wine.” He wanders back into the kitchen. 
You huff again, kicking your shoes off your aching feet and heading into the living room, where the girls are painting one another’s nails. It was at least nice to snuggle up on your couch and watch, legs curled under you. They’re arguing, of course, but you’re good at tuning that out most of the time. 
“You look very nice, Y/N,” Phoebe compliments. “Are you dressed up for my Uncle Roy?”
“No.” Even so, your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but hope he noticed your appearance before you left earlier. In fact, you’d been wondering all through dinner why he’d pursed his lips, jaw ticking, as he’d looked you up and down with shiny, dark eyes. It hadn’t exactly been the look of a man who lusted after you. More the disapproving stare of a father about to tell his child to go and change. “I went on a date.”
“What’s a date?” Maisie asks.
“14th of April,” Phoebe answers confidently. You smirk, glad when they return to their own little world. 
“Right girls,” Roy says as he comes in. “Go and play upstairs, now. We’re talking about adult stuff now.”
“And you should be in bed,” you remind, because you suppose that one of you has to be the responsible parent, and it certainly isn’t him.
The kids groan but trudge out of the room, leaving you in peace. Somehow, that’s even worse. You don’t really know why; you’ve had lots of awful dating experiences, but tonight, you’re just… exhausted. You don’t want to have to keep searching for something that most people find without a problem. You don’t want to meet new people who you don’t connect with, don’t even really like, just because the alternative is sitting at home with only a child for company, or sometimes Roy. 
Roy places the wine on the coffee table and raises his brow. “Go on then. Tell me what was wrong with this one.” 
“It’d be quicker to tell you what’s right. They started by telling me to put a blanket under me in their car so I wouldn’t scuff their leather seats. And then when I told them I had a kid, they looked me up and down and said ‘ah, yeah, I can tell. Have you looked into cosmetic surgery?’” You wrinkle your nose as Roy scoffs. 
“You’re joking!” 
“I wish I was joking.” You rest your head against the couch cushion, closing your tired eyes. “They tried to order a salad for me after that. I told them fuck off, I’m having the garlic bread. They didn’t like that.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Do you have their address?” Roy is already scrambling to get up, and you aren’t sure if he’s joking or not. 
You roll your eyes and tug him back down. “Stop it.”
“I’m not fucking joking. Where does this wanker live?” 
Okay, you realise. Not joking. His jaw is clenched, brows even more furrowed than usual. You’ve seen him angry before, but never… seething. It rolls off him until you yank him down a second time. 
“I don’t need you to beat them up. I need you to drink wine and tell me I’ll find the right person one day.” You pout as you pick up your wine glass, only half-joking.
His nostrils flare, but he settles down. “You will find the right person,” he reassures. “People are just dicks. You deserve better than all that shit.”
“I wonder sometimes,” you admit. “Nobody wants a single parent. I’m a package deal, and… well, there’s a reason I’m still single after all this time.”
“Oi.” He nudges you, draping his arm around the back of your couch so you smell his aftershave. You turn into the warmth, the comfort, though there is so much space between you still. More than you’d like. In another life, he might have been the one you were looking for. In another life, you weren’t searching for a good, healthy, passionate love, because you’d found it long ago, in the schoolyard where you met. 
But you’re in this life, you remind yourself, and you’re a far cry from the people Roy has dated before. It’s clear you’re just friends. You always will be. 
You lift your brows, waiting for whatever lecture he’s about to give you. 
His eyes pierce yours. “Don’t even bother going there. You and Maisie deserve the fucking world, and fuck anyone who isn’t going to give it to you.” 
The words pierce your heart, and something damp and warm trickles from the corner of your eye. A tear, you realise too late. 
Roy sighs, the rough pad of his thumb brushing it away. You’re not surprised by his gentle touch, though most people might be. You know him too well to think him anything other than tender-hearted and caring to his core. 
“Don’t get fuckin’ upset over that prick. Please, sweetheart.”
“No. I’m not.” You sniff, feeling pathetic. “I’m just overwhelmed. Tired. That’s all.” 
His touch drifts to your hair, brushing through the strands and tucking a few behind your ear as your eyes flutter shut again. You could stay like this for a long time. For forever. He has no idea just how much you need him, how much better things feel when he’s around. It would just make sense, you and him — if you took away his fame, at least. You love one another’s kids. You’d become family over the years. You trust him with every fibre of your being as the one steadfast person you can count on. 
“Y’know, you’re the person I’d call in the middle of the night if I needed to bury a body. Or if I thought there was a ghost in my house or something,” you admit. 
His face crumples. “Ey?” 
“Just…” You lean into him, burying your cheek against his chest. “You’re the only person who hasn’t let me down or left me.” 
His movements are stiff as he wraps his arms around you, but he melts into you quickly, holding you to him until you’re not sure where you end and he begins. You hear his heart echoing in your ear. Feel the prickly bristle of his beard against your skin. It’s the safest you ever get to feel, and it’s rare you allow yourself to be so vulnerable. But tonight, you can’t find a reason to keep pretending. 
“I never would,” he whispers. “If it was me, if you gave me a chance at a family like yours… I wouldn’t fucking waste it. They’re idiots, all of them. You and Maisie are precious. You deserve the best. Don’t stop until you find it.” 
You pull away, pulse racing. It’s never felt right to address your feelings before, and perhaps tomorrow you’ll regret it. Maybe you’ll lose him, even, but you believe him when he says he isn’t going anywhere, and you have to know…
“What if I already have?”
His frown lasts for minutes, hours, as he looks down at you. And then you see it dawn on him, and you don’t want to hear how this story ends. You don’t want to be rejected twice in one night. You stumble up. “Forget I said that. I had a couple of drinks at the restaurant, and I’m all… loopy. I’m going to get some snacks. Are you hungry?” The drinks were non-alcoholic, but he doesn't need to know that.
“No,” Roy says. 
It’s all he gives you. The message has been delivered loud and clear. He doesn’t want you. Tears sting your eyes as you leave the living room, heading into the kitchen. You catch your reflection in the window and almost break down entirely. You’re an idiot, and you’ve gone and embarrassed yourself in front of the one person you can be yourself around. 
You grab a tissue, drying your tears, but fresh ones fall all the same. 
And then your back prickles and you know he’s followed you. 
“Oi,” he breathes gently, tilting your chin up as he reaches you. “What are you getting upset for?”
“I’m not,” you lie pathetically, looking anywhere but at him. “You can head off if you want. I can watch the girls tonight and drop Phoebe off—”
“Can we just rewind a minute? Do you… Do you think that you and me…?”
“No! God, no. No. No, no, no.”
“Oh.” He nods, leaning back on his heels. "So no then?"
“No!” 
“All right, I fucking get it.” He lifts his hands as though they might wipe it all away. “I just thought that’s what you were saying before, on the couch. I thought…”
“You should stop thinking, Roy.” You offer him a flustered smile, your face burning. “Honestly, let’s just forget about it.”
“Right. Fine.” More silence. And then: “What if I don’t want to?” 
“Don’t want to what?” 
He shrugs. “Forget about it. What if… we’ve both already found the right people?” 
Your body is electricity now, and you can barely breathe. “What… do you mean?”
He scratches his stubble, lowering his gaze. “Well, I could take you on a date. I’d be much better at it than the losers you’ve been seeing.”
You’re caught off-guard, hands trembling, “Is that what you’d like?”
“Well, I did. I mean, I’ve wanted to. I just… you’ve already said no. Several times. So I suppose I got my answer, and that’s that.” 
“Well, I didn’t think you saw me that way. You’ve never asked before. Is this, like, a pity thing?”
“Fuck no!” he blurts too quickly. “I mean, no. 'Course not. And you’ve never mentioned it before either, by the way. You’re always going on all these fucking dates. When was I supposed to ask? Between Fast-forward Frank and that fucking woman obsessed with her pet ferret?” 
You blink, puzzled. “I mean… if you asked, I wouldn’t have gone on dates with Ferret Fiona.”
He throws his hands up in the air. “Now she fucking tells me.”
You don’t like the implication that you’ve been the one holding him back. “Well, it’s not like you’ve ever tried, is it? I mean, I’ve been single for years and you’ve never made a move, even before all this online dating palaver! And you’re not exactly easy to read, by the way. You’re always frowning, even when I’m trying to bloody well impress you! What was I supposed to think? That you fancy me when you always look like this?” You moulded your expression into a big, dramatic, brooding glower and hope it encapsulates everything that is Roy. 
He crosses his arms over his chest, looking angry now. Proving your point. “Oi! I don’t do that with my lips,” he points out. “And you’re always talking about how badly you want to find someone when I’m sitting right fucking here! That’s mixed signals, mate.”
“It was me hinting! Hoping!” you shout. “I was just waiting for a sign, or something, but you never treated me like anything more than a friend!”
“Because I didn’t want to be like that creepy Allen bloke you dated last year! He was your friend too, if I recall!” 
You sigh, realising the conversation is going in circles. You look at him. He looks at you. Both of you are breathless, wild-eyed, rosy-cheeked, and you know you’ll always remember the way he looks, standing in your kitchen, infuriated and perhaps more open than ever before, because you see it now; that dark look in his eyes was never a guard, never a sign of being just friends. It was want, need. 
It was everything you already feel. 
“Why are you two arguing?” a meek voice interrupts. You both look to the door to find the girls hovering in the hallway. 
“We’re not arguing,” you assure quickly. 
“It’s adult stuff,” says Roy at the same time. 
“We don’t like it when you argue,” Maisie says. “Especially when you’re supposed to get married.”
“What?” you question sharply, turning red all over again. 
Phoebe nods as though corroborating Maisie’s story. “We’ve planned it all. It will be next June at McDonald’s, and Uncle Roy will bring you flowers, and we’ll all have milkshakes afterwards.”
You put your head in your hands, peeking through your fingers and surprised to find that Roy is smirking. “Sounds like a shit wedding, Pheebs. Where’ve you got this idea from?” he says.
“Well, Mum said you two will end up together because you clearly fancy Y/N and it is invevitable.” 
A laugh bubbles in your own throat at her attempt to say inevitable, though you’re still too stunned to speak. 
“See?” Roy whispers. “Everyone else knew. It's fucking invevitable.” 
You shiver, lowering your hands to meet his gaze properly. It’s soft and intent, nothing like the anger of a moment ago. 
“All right, girls,” you say. “Get your pyjamas on. We’ll be up to say nanight in a minute.”
You usher them away, closing the door to when you hear their footsteps on the stairs. You’ve never been more aware of his presence, the fact it’s just the two of you — you don’t even know who you are without the kids jumping about, sticking their noses in. 
“Have I fucked it all up?” he asks finally. 
“No. Have I?”
He shakes his head. 
“Then what now?” you question. “What does this… mean?” 
“Well…” He leans against the counter, fidgety as he smiles again. “I’ll take you on a decent fucking date for starters. No kids, and no more of whatever the fuck this argument was.”
The thought leaves you feeling cracked and seeping with excitement, though you try to play it cool. “Okay. That’s a good plan.” 
“Right. Good. Then… are you free Friday night?”
You inch closer to him, timid suddenly. “I don’t know. My usual babysitter is busy.”
He rolls his eyes and tugs you toward him so that your torsos collide, and then his fingers curl around the nape of your neck and you can think of nothing but the way his lips look, and what it must feel like, having them between your thighs, beard grazing your skin. 
“You’re an idiot,” he rasps. 
“Takes one to know one.” You lick your lips, then his mouth his on yours, rough and ready and desperate. You let him in, let his tongue explore your mouth. You know you shouldn’t. The girls might come back in, might already be listening, but you’ve wanted this for so long. 
You both have. 
You’re breathless when he stops, his hands lingering just above your belly as he bites down on a groan. “If I don’t stop now, there’ll be trouble.” 
You’re not willing to let go, though, and you rest your hands on his chest as you kiss his jaw. “And?”
“And I’ve waited a long fucking time to do this properly. Give you the care,” he kisses your nose, “you deserve. Sweep you,” another kiss, this time at the outer corner of your eye, “off your fucking feet. So I’m going to.” He steps away. “Friday. Seven. Find a new babysitter, and make sure they’re free all night.” 
With that, he steps away, leaving you wanting more. 
“Uncle Royyyyy!” Phoebe is calling. “Will you read us a story?”
He grins, kisses your forehead, and then is gone. You’re not sure your knees will hold you up if you follow, but you listen to him talking to the girls, making them laugh, and you have never felt more right, more complete. 
You’re a fool for thinking anyone else could be perfect for you when the man you love has been here all along.
1K notes · View notes
axelsagewrites · 26 days
Note
Could you do a Roy or Jamie fic where the reader gets hurt? Even something silly like getting hit in the head with a ball at practice or something! They’re super concerned and want to take care of them! I also love angst…sorry if it’s a stupid idea. No worries if you don’t want to write it 💜✨
Jamie Tartt*Practise Mishap
Pairing: Jamie x f!reader
Word count: 1291
Tumblr media
Warnings: reader getting hit by a football (which hurts a lot btw from experience), Jamie feeling guilty, fluff
A/n: i love this idea btw ive been wanting to write something like this for a while but i made this more fluff than angst
Masterlist here
You’d never actually seen Jamie at practise. There was the occasional time where you dropped him off or picked him up after, but you never lingered since he needed to concentrate. However today Jamie in all his genius managed to forget his phone this morning.
“Wouldn’t have forgotten it if you hadn’t have distracted me love,” he teased, a smirk toying on his lips that made you smack his chest.
“Can you not?” you said, nodding to where the coaches stood only a couple feet away.
Of course, Roy heard. A loud groan came from him before he barked at Jamie, “Back on the field Tartt,”
“You staying to watch Jamie in action?” Ted asked, far more politely than Roy who was sulking at the suggestion.
You looked between him and Jamie who seemed to perk up at the idea, “Is that allowed?”
“I don’t see why not,”
“Maybe he’ll actually put some effort in,” Roy mumbled.
Jamie just rolled his eyes at Roy before giving you a quick kiss, “Get ready to see the king in action,” he said before running back on the field as you laughed.
“How do you stand him?” Roy grunted.
Truthfully you found Jamie’s cockiness annoyingly attractive, but you didn’t think Roy needed to hear that. “What can I say? I’m a saint,” you joked.
Even though the practise was interesting at first it was just boys kicking balls around a field and the illusion quickly worn off. That plus you were supposed to get a bunch of things done at home since it was a rare day off. You turned to Ted to tell him, “I’ll probably shoot off in a minute or two,” you said at the same time as someone yelled “Watch out!”
Roy tried to grab your arm, pulling you out the way, but not fast enough and a ball planted right in the middle of your chest, knocking you off your feet. You hit the ground with a thud and all the air was knocked out your lungs.
You heard Jamie shout your name, but you were too busy coughing up a storm and trying not to be sick. Roy and Ted had crouched down beside you, Beard shouting for Nate to run for the first aider. “Are you alright love?” Jamie asked, dropping to his knees beside you.
“I think- “your attempts to speak was interrupted by more coughing and the urge to be sick, “Ow,” you winced.
“What the fuck were you doing Colin?” you heard the footballers begin to argue as they all rushed to your side.
“I was trying to pass to Isaac! I didn’t know he didn’t see me,”
“When I said improve your kick, I didn’t mean kill Jamie’s bird,” Roy yelled at him, standing up.
Ted tried to calm him, but it was Jamie who spoke first, “Oi! The lot of you move it. you’re crowding her now piss off,” his anger washed off his face when he turned back to you, “C’mon love let’s get you some help,”
“I’m fine,” you winced as Jamie pulled you to your feet.
“No, you’re not now be quiet and let me help you,” he said as he helped you over to sit on a bench at the side. The first aider came and gave you a once over and said it was all good but to be careful. So, Jamie naturally made them triple check. Colin also came over, apologising a million and one times to which you assured him it was okay, and Jamie tried not to death glare him.
Some water and painkillers did help but you still weren’t feeling amazing. Ted walked over with a guilty smile on his face, “How we are doing over here folks?”
“Better now,” you smiled, hiding your wincing as best you could.
“I’m gonna kill Colin,” Jamie muttered.
You rolled your eyes, placing a hand over his, “It was an accident babe. Let’s just let it go, okay?” Jamie didn’t say anything, but you knew he wouldn’t. “But I should defiantly go now,”
“Well Rebecca gave me a call saying to tell Jamie to take the afternoon off and take care of you,” Ted said and before you could protest, he cut you off, “Its doctors orders, okay? Now scamp you too. And try take it easy, okay?”
You felt bad making Jamie miss the end of practise but right now football was the last thing on his mind. after dropping you off at his place and surrounding you with pillows and blankets Jamie went on a Tesco run for snacks.
When he got back you laughed when you saw the almost overflowing bag. “We’ve got enough to survive the winter,” you joked as he sat it down. “You’re spoiling me,”
“Never,” Jamie said with a bashful smile as he pulled out the flowers from behind his back, “Got ye these as well,”
“Aw Jamie,” you gushed, standing up to take them from him but you winced slightly as you did.
Instantly concern washed over his face as he grabbed your arm to steady you despite you not actually falling, “You alright love? I knew that women missed something. What hurts- “
“Jamie,” you interrupted him, cupping his face with your hands making him pause in his tracks, “I’m fine baby I swear. Are you?”
“Yeah, course I am,” he said, wrapping his arms around you, “I just don’t want you getting hurt and that. I just feel bad’s all,” he said, mumbling as he hugged you tighter.
You moved your head to rest on his shoulder, hugging him back, “But why?”
“You were there to see me and then you got hurt. I know how hard those balls can hit,” he said before sighing, “Its all my fault,” he mumbled making your heart break.
You pulled back only to pull him to sit on the couch next to you, placing the flowers on the coffee table, “It was an accident. It was no one’s fault,”
“It was colin’s fault,”
“It was no one’s fault,” you repeated, rolling your eyes with a small smile, “Now are you gonna sit and mope all day or are you gonna take care of me?”
Finally, a smile cracked onto his lips, “Thought it didn’t hurt anymore?”
“I lied,” you said, sinking back into the couch in a dramatic display, “I am wounded beyond belief. You’ll need to do everything I need,” you joked with a hand splayed across your head.
Jamie leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Don’t I always?” he smiled. “Want me to put those in some water?”
“Yes please,” you grinned as Jamie got up to sort out the flowers, but you called out before he could leave the room, “Can we have a movie night?”
“If that’s what the lady wants, that’s what the lady gets,” he grinned, “Just try not pick a total chick flick,” he added with a smirk that made you roll your eyes.
By the time he’d returned with drinks and a takeaway menu you already had 27 dresses queued up, “Oh c’mon,” Jamie protested as he dropped onto the couch beside you.
“Please, I’m injured,” you teased making him roll his eyes but finally agree. Despite his protests Jamie was more into the movie than you were and made you pinkie promise to pause it when he went to get the food when it arrived.
Four chick flicks and an unholy amount of food later you and Jamie were curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets. “Feeling better?” he murmured in your ear though you could hear from his voice he was already half asleep.
“Feeling perfect baby, thank you,”
“Anything for you,”
Taglist Sign Up Here
General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @perla434 @selenestar78 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @urfavnoirette @randomstory56 @qardasngan @https-luvvia @im-the-fucking-lunar-prince @bryandechartisasmolbean @glorywielder101 @tiinkerbell @the-holy-pigeon @andreaxxx44
Ted Lasso Taglist: @gee72sstuff @qardasngan @daisydark @slay-queer@strvngestark @scrumptiousroadponymoney @flora157 @thejediprincess56 @ringpopdust @meg-ro @saay-karani @marvgrrl @scaramou
195 notes · View notes
howdyrowdypartner · 7 months
Text
Ok ok ok BUT
What if after getting kicked off of Lust Conquers All, Jamie just…didn’t go back to England. He stayed in Spain (I’m imagining the show was filmed on one of the Spanish islands, similar to how Love Island is filmed in Mallorca), and said fuck it!! I’m staying in the sun and while maybe I can’t live the same lifestyle as before, I can live damn well!!
And he finds his way to a little coastal town, not a huge tourist location like *certain other cities nearby*, on the main land, gets a job as a bartender or something, and never goes back to Richmond during season 2, but is vaguely aware Roy is coaching the Greyhounds now and kind of misses the team but knows he can’t go back, so he just hangs out in Spain, works at the bar, enjoys the beach, etc etc
ENTER Roy and Keeley break up at the end of S2 and Roy goes to Marbella by himself for the summer. He decides to go for a little drive up the coast, and somehow ends up in this tiny little town where he sees none other than the price prick of all pricks, who had fallen off the face of the earth since leaving LCA.
I’ve gotta do it I’ve gotta write it
406 notes · View notes
yelena-bellova · 8 months
Text
Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eighteen
Tumblr media
Chapter Eighteen: Free
Plot: The morning after Y/n and Jamie’s heartbreaking talk, an unexpected savior shows up on Y/n’s door, leaving her at a crossroads.
Word Count: 6.8k
Warnings: f!reader, language, mention of child neglect/abuse, mention of sex
A/N: THIS IS IT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS THE CHAPTER. I’m so excited for you guys to read this one and have all your questions answered. I hope the payoff is as sweet as you’ve been expecting. Y’all have been so enthusiastic over the last few chapters, it really makes me smile. Enjoy!! ❤️💙💛
———————
Heartache could spread through the body just as easily as illness. Y/n’s head was fogged, her limbs hurt and she felt nauseous the second she opened her eyes.
Somehow she managed to call room service and order breakfast, plain toast and coffee, before falling back into bed. The clock read 10AM, she hasn’t slept that long in years. Then again, there wasn’t much sleep had.
The weight of Jamie’s confession weighed in her chest just as heavily as the moment he’d made it. She’d been up till some unholy hour, replaying the whole thing. His words, the quiver in his voice, his lips against her face…it reduced Y/n fits of tears, breaking her over and over.
There was no question as to whether she should skip the match or not. Not only did she have no desire to be around people, but she didn’t want to mess with Jamie’s head any more than she already had. She was worried enough she’d already cost him the game.
A rhythmic knock at her door signaled room service arriving. Y/n trudged across the room and opened the door, expecting to meet the waiter.
Instead, she got Ted, comically lifting the lid off the platter.
“Mornin’ sunshine!”
Y/n sighed, smiling as much as she could, which wasn’t very much.
Ted, however, found himself hilarious. “Room service fella was about to knock right as I was walkin’ by. Thought I’d have some fun with it.”
“Of course,” Y/n gestured to the room, “Come on in.”
Ted set the tray down on the table before turning back to Y/n, who was already moving to the other side of the room. There was a stiffness to her posture, as if she’d allowed a home invader in. Ted was well familiarized with her character, but he hadn’t seen her so reserved since she first started at Richmond.
“So what’s up?” Y/n asked, her tone devoid of any life.
“Oh, I just wanted to check up on you,” Ted shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets, “Haven’t seen ya in a while.”
“Yeah, things have been busy.”
“I bet,” Ted smiled, “You and Keeley must be kickin’ butt over there. The Dynamic Duo, but with gobs more style.”
Y/n chucked politely, playing with her hands out of nervousness.
Ted waited, watching as Y/n tried to dodge his line of vision. He didn’t expect an explanation to fly out of her mouth, but she was clearly on edge. His chances of waiting her out were decent.
“Well, we’re all glad you’re back,” Ted added, “Owner’s box has been lonely without you, I’ll bet.”
Y/n shut her eyes, it made the lying easier. “Yeah, Ted, I don’t think I can make this one.”
His face didn’t fall an inch, “Oh no. Something wrong?”
“Yeah, I just didn’t get much sleep,” she continued, that part was true. She thought she remembered the clock reading 5AM around the time exhaustion took over.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Ted played along, “I know the boys miss havin’ you around.”
Y/n slipped around the topic, walking to the window. “They excited for today?”
“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “Revved up and ready to go.”
“That’s good,” she kicked her foot against the wall and diverted her gaze to the curtains. “How’s, uh…how’s Jamie?”
Ted studied Y/n, taking in her fidgeting hands and the exaggerated effort to her words. As hard as she tried, Y/n wasn’t that good an actress.
“He’s alright,” Ted answered, “Bit off, y’know. Little bit like you.”
With every word exchanged, Y/n could feel Ted unraveling the whole thing. He could see right through her.
“That’s too bad,” she said, her voice wobbling. The tears that she’d fallen asleep with were reawakening.
“Yeah, it is,” Ted agreed, “I sure hope he figures out whatever’s botherin’ him before the game.”
“Mm-hmm,” Y/n hummed, feeling like she couldn’t breathe, “He’s got a lot of people counting on him.”
“Yeah, but that ain’t as big a deal,” Ted took a seat on the edge of Y/n’s bed. “I’m more concerned with him, y’know. Why he’s hurtin’.”
Ted noticed Y/n’s shoulders begin to tremble.
“Why he’s keepin’ whatever it is to himself rather than leanin’ on somebody.”
Y/n wiped her hands over her face, her cheeks wet with guilt. She had finally reached it, her dreaded breaking point.
She turned to Ted, who looked at her as only a father could. He knew.
“You wanna tell me anything goin’ on?”
Crossing the room and sinking down on the mattress next to Ted, Y/n softly sobbed.
“Is it Jamie?” Ted asked.
Y/n bit her lip.
“Is it us?”
She sniffled.
“Whole enchilada?”
Y/n’s trembled as she inhaled, “I’m scared, Ted.”
“Of what?”
“This,” she gestured around them, “Richmond. This whole thing.”
Ted waited for her to explain further.
“I grew up having to fight for every shred of attention,” Y/n continued, “Doing everything I could to get my parents to…care. And no matter what I did, they never loved me. Not like parents are supposed to love their kids. And when I realized that, I just…shut everyone out. In high school, in college…and it worked. I was safe. I didn’t have to worry about getting hurt.”
“And then I…” Y/n paused, the happy memory washing over her, “I met these two women in a bar and they offered me a job. And suddenly, I’m a part of this sport that I never cared about and there’s this…family I never asked for. And it should have made me happy,” she grasped her stomach, “But it scared me, Ted. It fucking terrified me because you were all so kind and welcoming and you just took me in.”
She stopped to take a breath, “And then Jamie just…” Y/n sniffled, “He just…happened. And that was the scariest part because…”
She couldn’t say the words. Just like 12 hours before, she still couldn’t physically force them out of her body. But somehow, even without speaking, the sentiment got across.
“Hey,” Ted slid an arm around Y/n’s shoulders. His dad mode had been activated.
For the first time in a long time, Y/n allowed herself to be held as she weeped.
“It’s okay,” Ted soothed, rubbing a hand over her arm, “You’re okay.”
After hours of crying underneath her sheets, Y/n thought she had nothing left to give. But the comfort of another person’s presence created a whole new wave. She was letting down from years of self-determination to conquer her pain on her own.
“Y’know,” Ted said after a moment, “Openin’ yourself up’s one of the scariest things in the world. Anyone who says otherwise’s never really done much hurting. But it’s worth it.”
“How do you know that?” Y/n whimpered.
“You don’t,” Ted stated, “No way to know what’ll happen before it happens. But if you don’t take the risk of gettin’ hurt, you’ll never end up with anything worth having. Just how life works.”
“But y’know,” he sighed, “Where we work…it’s kinda the exception. The people there’re some of the best I’ve ever known. They don’t let you down.”
Y/n’s tears were slowing in speed, but not intensity.
“Know how our right reverend Mr. Rojas likes to say that football is life?” Ted earned a slight smile from Y/n, “Same goes for AFC Richmond. These people’re gonna stick by you through thick and thin. Once you’re a part of the family, you’re there. Doesn’t matter if you wanna be. It’s up to you whether you let ‘em in..but they’re gonna love you whether you like it or not. It’s a heck of a lot easier to just let ‘em.”
Throughout the years, Y/n had lacked many relationships, but that of a parent was the one she’d longed for the most. She needed someone to help guide her, to lovingly correct her when she was making the biggest mistakes of her life. In the moment she needed it most, Ted fit the role perfectly.
Without any prompting, Y/n slipped her arms around Ted’s neck and hugged him.
Ted returned and received it, he’d been going through it too. As true as ever, helping someone out of their pit stitched a little piece of him back together as well. He wanted Y/n to succeed in everything she did and he believed without a doubt that she could. But he wanted her to be happy, truly happy, more than anything.
“Thank you,” she whispered over his shoulder.
“No thanks needed,” he smiled, “I got your back.”
Y/n let go of him slowly and hesitantly. It was 10:30, the match was less than two hours away. “You need to go.”
“I do,” Ted replied, patting her shoulder before standing up, “You think you’re gonna stop by for a bit now? Cheer us on?”
Grimacing slightly, Y/n ducked her head towards the floor.
“C’mon now,” Ted clicked his tongue, “I thought we just made progress.”
Y/n chuckled and wiped under her eyes.
“Well, I hope you change your mind.”
Ted left Y/n with plenty to mediate on and strolled back into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He could lead her to victory, but he couldn’t hand her the win.
Y/n stayed on the bed’s edge a long while after Ted left, contemplating all he’d said. She was at what was potentially the most important crossroads of her life. Heeding Ted’s advice held the possibility of more heartache, more loss, more feelings of inadequacy. But didn’t her isolation already offer that in spades? Wasn’t she hurting enough on her own? Tearing herself down at every opportunity? How could anything possibly be worse than that?
But she had felt worse, twelve hours ago. Breaking Jamie’s heart after he’d poured his out to her had crushed her. She’d hurt him so deeply in the name of self preservation. Walking away from him was the most difficult thing she’d ever done. The worst part was that it was totally avoidable. If she’d have told him that she loved him too, they’d have been saved so much pain. Jamie wouldn’t have had to endure her rejection, Y/n wouldn’t have lost the most important person in her life. The blame was entirely hers.
It wasn’t just Jamie. Y/n was so tired of keeping Keeley at arm’s length. She craved her weekly tea with Rebecca. She missed problem solving with Higgins. She wanted to laugh with Ted and talk life with Beard and annoy Roy. She wanted to go to movies with Sam and drink with Dani and have lunches with Colin. She wanted to cheer the boys on at games and celebrate with them after.
She wanted to win and lose with all of them.
She wanted to be a part of their family.
But to do so, she had to heal her first one.
Before she knew what she was doing, Y/n grabbed her phone off her nightstand. She scrolled through her contacts, even though she had memorized the number in hopes that would somehow equal a call. She pressed the name and dialed.
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Y/n hadn’t expected them to pick up. It was 4-something AM where they were.
The familiar message played, asking her to leave her name and number.
Finally, the machine beeped.
“Hi…it’s me…” she started, suddenly nervous, “It’s Y/n. I know it’s early there, I don’t even know if you are there but…I needed to do this.”
Y/n drew a quick breath, it was now or never. “You guys really fucked me up. Me and Caylee. I mean, we’re really screwed up because of you. Maybe she’s doing better than me, maybe I’m the only one who’s still not over all of it but…you really messed up. And maybe you know that, maybe you don’t, but it’s the truth. I am…” she paused, “So broken because you two couldn’t love me. No— you know what,” her voice gained strength, “You could have loved me. You didn’t. For whatever reason, you didn’t. I did everything I possibly could to earn your love, and I never got it. And that’s fucked up.”
Her anger hastened her heartbeat, urging Y/n to go on. “And I don’t know how to forgive you for that. I know it’s possible, worse people have done worse things and they’ve somehow found a way to still be a family, but…I want to. If not for you guys, for me,” her chest’s rise and falls had evened out, “Because I’m tired of being broken. I’m tired of pushing everybody away. I’m tired of thinking that there’s something unlovable about me. I’m tired of thinking that being alone is somehow better than having people that care about you, and I’m tired of being scared,” Y/n threw her free arm out at her side and laughed, “I’m so tired of being scared.”
“None of this probably makes any sense to you, but, ” she sighed, “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to keep doing this. Only talking on my birthday, seeing you every couple years, not knowing what’s going on in your lives…I don’t want that. I want to know you. I want to come home for Christmas. I want to share my life with you. And if you can’t do that then…I don’t want anything.”
Her own words shocked her, was she really potentially kicking her parents out of her life?
“Because I’ve built a really amazing life here,” she said, her voice faltered with emotion, “With amazing people and they love me. They really love me and I’m crazy about them. And I want you guys to be a part of it,” she exhaled and felt the tears rock forward in her eyes, “And if you don’t want that, that’s okay. I’ll be alright because I have them.”
Y/n sighed, feeling the weight of a lifetime lift off her chest.
“I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad,” she continued, “And I hope you love me, for once, more than you do anything else.”
Y/n lowered the phone, staring at the call time. 2 minutes and 10 seconds was all it had taken. “Bye.”
The moment she disconnected, the room suddenly came to life. There was color to the walls and texture to the curtains. There was light shining in through the window and the smell of the coffee on its tray filled the room.
Y/n was free.
Lightened by the release of her life’s pain, the decision at hand became so clear. Y/n flipped on the hotel television, switching the channel to Sky Sports. The match was already into its second half and the Greyhounds were up by one goal.
She did the math in her head. The stadium was ten minutes away. She could still make it.
Flying across the room, Y/n dug through her suitcase for any clothes that weren’t pajamas. She emptied the contents onto her bed only to spot a familiar piece of fabric tucked in one of the compartments.
Y/n unfolded it.
Jamie’s jersey. Still packed from Wembley.
She laughed under her breath, the coincidence of it all was too perfect.
Y/n slipped on the oversized shirt, same as the last time. She threw on jeans and sneakers, grabbing her phone and coat before racing out her hotel room.
The elevator would take too long, she decided, so she sped down the stairs from the sixth floor all the way to the lobby. Jamie hadn’t been the only one to benefit from Roy’s training sessions.
Y/n bolted out the front doors of the hotel and ran to the sidewalk, waving her hands wildly to the cabs that drove by. Eventually, one stopped for her.
“Where to, love?”
“Ethiad Stadium,” Y/n answered as she hopped in the backseat, “Quick as you can.”
The cabbie got back in his lane and took her the way of the stadium. Y/n buzzed in the backseat, adrenaline pulsing through her veins at what she was doing.
“Could you put the match on?” She asked, most of them were typically broadcasted on the radio.
The driver flipped the station till he found the correct one. Y/n listened intently from the backseat, hanging on every word.
Halfway to the stadium, the cab hit typical game day traffic. After waiting impatiently a few minutes, the commentators announced there were twenty minutes left on the clock. If nothing changed in the next thirty seconds, Y/n would miss it entirely.
“You know what,” she reached into her coat pocket, picking a few bills from her wallet and throwing them in the front seat, “Keep the change.”
Y/n ignored the confused calls of the driver as she slid out the backseat into traffic. She ran through the lines of cars until she hit sidewalk. With every slap of her foot against the sidewalk, she could feel Ted’s words penetrate her heart even further. This was what she was supposed to feel.
The sight of Ethiad Stadium welcomed her. Guided by signage, she sprinted to the back entrance she’d usually come through with Rebecca and Keeley. Her sneakers practically screeched across the marble floor, slowing down only for the metal detector and security pat-down.
“Y/n Y/l/n,” Y/n recited her name to the liaison holding a guest list, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”
“Ah,” the young man located her, “Welcome to Ethiad Stadium, Miss-“
Y/n was off before he could finish, bolting up the staircase that would lead her to the VIP box.
She pushed past guests dressed far nicer than her and slid through gaps half her size. Somewhere along the way, Arlo White and Chris Park’s voices became clearer. They were being played through the stadium’s sound system.
“Tartt tried to soldier on, but now he’s in some distress and may require attention.”
Y/n’s steps slowed, pausing in the busy hall to listen properly.
“The med team is helping him off the field. It looks like Richmond may be in trouble.”
Never in her life had Y/n run faster.
Arriving at the VIP box, she rushed up to the security guard.
“Ticket please.”
“I don’t have one,” Y/n panted, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”
“Sorry, love,” the burly man shook his head, “Can’t let you in without a ticket.”
“No, no, no, I’m PR,” Y/n insisted, “I need to get in there now.”
The security guard was unmovable, taking a firm stance in the doorway to block her. “I can’t allow you in without a ticket, ma’am.”
With Jamie injured, there was a new recklessness to Y/n’s urgency. She didn’t quite care what she had to do to get in. She jumped in place to see over the guard’s shoulder, spotting the top of Rebecca’s coiffed hair and Keeley’s curls.
“There! There’s my bosses!” Y/n exclaimed, surging forward through the tiny space between the man and the door.
He pulled her back and away from getting any further, “You can’t enter without a ticket. If you don’t leave now-“
“Rebecca!” Y/n shouted, “Keeley! Keeley! Rebecca!”
She was loud enough that both women, plus Higgins, turned around in their seats. The sight of Y/n struggling against the security guard must have frightened them more than she’d intended.
Rebecca rushed through the room, “Let her go! Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“You know this woman?” The guard asked, still holding Y/n back as if she were some crazed fan.
“She works with me,” Keeley scolded, having followed Rebecca, “Get your fucking hands off her.”
The guard released Y/n quickly, eager to avoid any more reprimanding. “I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he addressed her, “Go on in.”
Y/n launched herself into Rebecca’s waiting arms, exhausted but charging off once more with the women.
“We thought you weren’t coming,” Keeley said as they rushed back to their seats.
Ignoring any and all things around her, Y/n ran down the steps of the box and threw herself against the railing. Jamie. Where was Jamie?
Down by the side of the pitch, he was laid out with the physios working on his ankle. Whatever move he’d pulled had cost him something terrible.
“What happened?” Y/n asked, unaware of who she was asking.
“He stopped a goal and landed wrong,” Keeley explained, slipping into the seat beside Y/n’s, “They just brought him off.”
Y/n clutched the railing with a vice-like grip, her eyes never leaving Jamie. She could see he was breathing hard, that his body clenched with every touch the physios made. He’d never been injured on the pitch this bad.
The game, however, couldn’t stop for one player. Ted made the call to play with ten men for the time being while Jamie rested. The Greyhounds held their own, Van Damme in particular blocking nearly every goal. But all Man City needed was one goal to tie things up and take the league title.
“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n mumbled as if she could will him to rally, “Come on.”
When the medics had done everything they could, Ted kneeled down next to Jamie. They appeared to be in deep conversation, Y/n would have killed to be on the other side, encouraging Jamie back onto the pitch. Whatever Ted was saying had to help. The team didn’t stand a chance if it didn’t.
“Get up, get up, get up,” she whispered, “Jamie, please get up.”
In perfect timing, Jamie extended a hand to Ted, who helped get him to his feet. Y/n held her breath as he bore weight on his ankle and exhaled when he didn’t buckle.
“Yes,” she clapped.
Ted went back to Beard and Roy, and Jamie took his time getting back on the pitch. The Man City fans livened up and began booing their former striker.
With her emotions driving her, Y/n turned to the sections around hers. “Oh, fuck off!”
Jamie shared her sentiment, taking the hate as well as the praise. He egged them on further and encouraged the taunts, jutting his tongue out and beating on his chest.
“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n cheered. There was no way for him to see or hear her, but she stayed up and screaming as if she were right beside him.
Jamie made it back to the pitch and the match resumed. Van Damme blocked another goal with spectacular skill and got the ball over to Isaac. Isaac kicked it across the field to Jamie, who controlled it masterfully.
Y/n’s breath hung in her chest as he moved across the field. Before her eyes, he came back to his truest self. This was him at his very best. This was Jamie playing for no one but himself and it was beautiful.
Jamie avoided every single City player that tried to steal the ball away. Making it to the net, he sent the ball flying and the whole stadium froze.
It soared past the goalie, a perfect shot.
The Greyhounds pounced on their teammate, hugging and slapping him on the back. The entire crowd went wild, the Richmond fans lost their minds.
“YES!!” Y/n threw her hands in the air, “JAMIE!!”
Keeley, Rebecca and Higgins jumped to their feet, cheering and screaming. Y/n and Keeley reached for one another and squealed.
Jamie chose the honorable route and didn’t make a big deal over the goal against his former club. When the boys let go of him, the ref blew his whistle and held up the sub board. Roberts was coming on, Jamie was coming off.
It was the most extraordinary way to leave a match, and Jamie was in a bit of pain. He wasn’t going to argue with the decision. But he hadn’t expected the Man City half of the stadium to change their tune. When their boos morphed to cheers, his eyes glistened with lifelong tears.
It had been a long road to get to a point where Jamie could play for himself. He’d spent all his years working to prove his father wrong, using his hatred as motivation to grow his skills. When he’d exhausted that option, he found himself a man without a country. He wasn’t sure what to do.
Then Y/n had shattered his heart.
He’d woken up with very little motivation to play. Their goodbye had added edge to all his fears. Mixed with the possibility of seeing his father, it was a miracle Jamie could move. But he was a fighter till the end, and even if he was a wreck, he would still give 110%. That was his gift.
As he looked up into the stands, despite everything, he wished Y/n was there to celebrate with him.
Little did he know, Y/n was crying tears of pride on the second level. She watched Jamie walk off the field feeling her heart completely tied to his. He’d proved everyone, even himself, wrong.
The game ended soon after that, with Richmond coming out on top. They had earned their spot in the last game of the season and a chance at the Premier League title. Y/n, Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins fell into an group hug.
“Hey, hey,” Y/n pulled out of Keeley’s arms and locked eyes, “You’re my best friend.”
Keeley’s gaze grew teary. She didn’t know what had changed in Y/n since the night before, but she welcomed it and hugged her tighter.
“And you,” Y/n reached over to Rebecca, “You’re just so fucking amazing.”
Rebecca laughed and wrapped an arm around Y/n, lovingly kissing her hair. Her friend was back from wherever she’d disappeared to.
“Oh,” Y/n grabbed hold of Higgins and grinned, “I love working with you so much.”
Higgins embraced her and shouted over the crowd. “Good to have you back.”
As much as she adored them, Y/n’s eyes fell downwards to the pitch. Jamie was celebrating amidst the boys, but they were about to leave.
Keeley followed her gaze, “Go. They’ll take him to the med room.”
Y/n’s face dropped, realizing that she had made a huge faux pas towards Keeley she hadn’t even considered.
Keeley could read the worry before it crossed Y/n’s lips. “Oi, fuck off,” she laughed, “Go get him.”
She didn’t need to hear anything else. Y/n took off running.
She sprinted through the stadium, weaving in and out of the crowd until she hit the authorized personnel area guarded by security.
“I’m with AFC Richmond,” Y/n breathed, exhausted by the effort expended. She reached into her wallet, “I have proof.”
She held up the employee ID and let the guard examine it.
“Go ahead,” the taller one slid to the side.
Y/n rushed through the glass doors. This was one of the only stadiums she hadn’t been to and she didn’t know her way. She peeked through every door until she found the physio room. Neither the medics nor Jamie were back yet.
Jamie hobbled down the hall, assisted by the physios that had aided him on the field. The adrenaline of the game was starting to wear off and he was looking forward to getting off his foot.
They opened the door to the back room to reveal the last person he expected to see.
Y/n spun around and their eyes met, fear suddenly taking hold of her. In her mad dash to the stadium, overcome with emotion, she hadn’t taken into consideration that Jamie may not have wanted to see her.
“Ma’am,” one of the medics spoke up, “You can’t be back here.”
Jamie was dazed, from the thrill of the match and Y/n’s presence. He took clumsy steps toward her, stuck in the magnetic pull they had on one another.
Y/n cautiously moved forward, terrified of what could come next. Jamie had every right to throw her out and never speak to her again. She almost wanted him to, to make her regret ever turning him away. Deserving seemed like too plain a word. She had earned his indifference.
But in the way Jamie’s eyes traced her face, warm and familiar, shocked and relieved, she knew that wasn’t the case.
They fell into each other’s arms without a single word.
“I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered through her tears, “I’m so sorry.”
Jamie buried his face in her neck, unable to do any more than absorb her. She was here. She was here.
Y/n, however, had so much to say. She urgently guided his head up to face her, tears welling in both their eyes. In that moment, telling the truth never seemed simpler.
“I love you.”
Jamie’s mouth curled upwards, searching her face in shock.
“I love you so much,” Y/n confessed, holding his cheeks, “I’m so sorry for what I said.”
She was cut off by Jamie, pressing his lips fervently into hers.
Neither of them could clearly remember the kisses they’d shared during their one night together. They certainly couldn’t count them. But this, this held all the glory and promise of a first kiss. Months of tension and longing they didn’t know they’d felt were poured out, replaced by sweet relief.
With his brain hazy and high, Jamie backed them up towards the physio table. The first step he took on his ankle made him wince, but he didn’t break from their kiss.
“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” Y/n pulled away, smiling breathlessly, “Ankle.”
“Don’t care,” he mumbled as he chased after her lips.
Y/n giggled, letting him steal a few more sloppy kisses. She wasn’t in a place to deny him anything.
When Jamie did eventually pull back, he nudged his nose against Y/n’s, breathing her in. “You only back here ‘cause I won it for us?”
“You caught me,” Y/n ran a hand through the back of his hair, “I’d have slipped right back out if you hadn’t.”
Jamie grinned and stroked a hand over her head. Now that he had her as close as he’d craved, he wanted to touch as much as he could. He looked down between them and spotted the familiar blue and red.
“I swear, magic shit happens when you wear this thing,” Jamie rubbed the fabric between his fingers.
Y/n rested her forehead on Jamie’s shoulder, shaking with laughter.
“I’m a fucking genius for buying it,” he beamed, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hair. “I love you so much.”
Knuckles rapped against the door and someone cleared their throat. At some point, the medics had left and returned.
“Mr. Tartt,” one said, “We do need to check your ankle.”
Y/n removed herself from being pinned between the table and Jamie. Jamie dropped his hands to hold hers, unwilling to lose full contact as he took a seat. The physios had a difficult time working with Jamie’s constant movement, trying to pull Y/n in for kiss after kiss.
All things considered, Jamie got off lucky. A brace was wrapped around his ankle and he was advised to use crutches for the next few days. Jamie heard most of their instructions…well, some. He’d more distractedly spare the medics a glance before looking back to Y/n, who memorized all their warnings.
When they left once more, giving Jamie a minute to rest, he tugged Y/n between his legs and wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/n tucked herself into his chest, holding his head as it dug into the side of hers.
There was so much to say, so much to explain, but neither one could think straight enough for any of it. All they wanted to do was hold each other, reveling in the sweet relief of longing being exchanged for love.
—————————
Back at the hotel, Y/n packed both hers and Jamie’s room while he rested on the Coach. She’d handed his suitcase off to Will before heading to her own car, regretting her decision not to join the team bus considering how the trip was ending.
Jamie got Y/n on the phone the second they pulled out of the hotel. She’d insisted he ride back with the boys, but he was more insistent on not being apart for a second. They spent very little time talking as the phone got passed around, each of the Greyhounds wanting to speak to Y/n after so many weeks with no contact.
Keeley and Rebecca coveted the mobile the longest, badgering her for as many details as Y/n would give them on how her and Jamie had come to be. Y/n revealed precious little information, both because she was still retracing the sequence of events herself and because she didn’t feel like telling the entire team just yet.
Along the way, Kenneth the bus driver and Y/n were weaving between lanes together, switching spots in front on one another. The boys could be heard shouting for Kenneth to drive faster so they could beat her. Y/n smiled and laughed the whole way back to Richmond, lighter than she’d been in years.
They pulled into Nelson Road Stadium late, but full of energy. The Greyhounds poured out of the bus toting champagne bottles, singing and chanting as loud as they could. Man City was their great white whale, and they’d beaten them so spectacularly, they deserved a fucking celebration.
Y/n moved around the physio room while Jamie was in the locker room, setting up a bucket of ice water for his ankle, per the medic’s instructions. She headed down the hall to retrieve him after, running into the boys changed into their dress clothes.
“Looking good,” she complimented.
The stragglers cheered and hung back to hug Y/n, Isaac picking her up and spinning her around. Richard pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“Hey,” Colin grew serious and pointed a finger towards her, “You owe us an explanation for where you’ve been.”
“Yeah, not cool,” Isaac agreed, setting her back down.
“I know, I know,” Y/n chuckled, “You’ll get one. But tonight,” she gestured to the door, “Go make a big fat mess of headlines for me to clean up.”
They cheered rowdily before heading out the door, leaving Y/n beaming. She was home.
She slipped into the locker room, Jamie was seated in his assigned spot, fidgeting. She knocked softly on the door.
“Come on, superstar,” she held out a hand.
Jamie smiled coyly, “Where you takin’ me?”
“I’m making sure Richmond has a fighting chance next weekend,” Y/n replies, helping him to his feet, “Can’t afford to lose you before you beat the shit out of West Ham.”
Jamie wrapped an arm around Y/n’s shoulders, much preferring to use her as his brace than the crutches. They took their time getting down the hall and into the physio room.
Y/n went about getting Jamie situated while he typed something into his phone. Once his foot was submerged in the ice, she stood to her full height and asked, “Whatcha doing?”
“Texting me dad,” he answered plainly.
Y/n blinked, ���I’m sorry, what?”
Jamie clicked his phone shut and set it aside. They had a lot to catch up on. “When I was down, Coach came and talked to me. Told me that I should forgive me dad,” he quickly held up a hand to Y/n’s worried expression, “Not for him. For me. I’ve been in my head all week ‘cause I felt like I couldn’t be me without hatin’ him. Y’know? But between Coach and mum…I don’t know…I found it again. That thing that made me wanna play in the first place. Not for him, not for anyone…just me.”
Y/n smiled proudly. Jamie’s dad was the permanent thorn in his side. Rather than live with the pain, he was learning to grow around it.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head. It was also deeply ironic that Y/n had made a similar phone call to her parents hours ago. “Just something to tell you later.”
Jamie stroked a hand over her back, “How ‘bout you tell me what made you change your mind?”
Y/n slotted herself between Jamie’s thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck. The new intimacy stole any intention of ever having less than one hand on each other.
“Ted came by my room this morning,” she started, “We had a talk and I…I just realized that I wanted to be with you more than I wanted to stay scared of you.”
Jamie’s brows raised, “Scared of me?”
Y/n nodded and brushed a hand through his hair, “You and all those big feelings…they scare the shit out of me. But I got a taste of what life’s like without you,” she sighed, “And I can’t do it.”
Jamie’s fingers moved against Y/n’s back, he watched and listened intently.
“I raced through the fucking streets for you,” Y/n smiled, “I fought a security guard.”
Snorting at the mental image, Jamie slipped an arm under Y/n’s legs and lifted her onto his lap. She yelped and tightened her hold around him.
“We’re gonna break this table,” Y/n laughed, “And people are going to make assumptions.”
“Let ‘em,” Jamie smirked, eyes full of adoration, “Say it again.”
“I love you,” she whispered joyfully.
He wanted to hear it a million more times and he wanted to say it an equal amount. He captured her lips once more in a soft kiss, content to stay there as long as the world would let them.
The door to the med room squeaked open, “Oh, fuck.”
Jamie and Y/n broke apart, twisting to see Roy and Keeley stood in the doorway.
“You two were annoying before. You’re gonna be fucking unbearable now,” Roy complained.
“Oh, stop it,” Keeley lightly smacked his hand, “They’ve waited this long.”
“What’re you guys doing?” Jamie asked.
“We thought we’d come and keep you company,” Keeley answered.
Roy kicked the door shut and held up an unopened champagne bottle, “Fucking celebrate!”
Keeley squealed and ran over to hug Y/n and Jamie, the three of them embracing one another. “‘Cause that was fucking amazing, Jamie.”
“Yeah, I was fucking amazing,” Jamie agreed, “You’re right.”
Keeley cackled while Y/n dropped her head to Jamie’s shoulder. “Dear God, I don’t think I can handle this ego.”
“Gotten this far,” Roy grumbled, rolling his eyes at his protege.
“We might need to tag team it,” Y/n suggested, “What do you say, Royo?”
“No,” he pointed between Jamie and Y/n, “You signed up for this, he’s your fucking problem.”
Y/n looked down at Jamie, who was already grinning up at her. He’d been her problem for a long long time.
“I’ll make the best of it,” she said, pecking Jamie’s lips.
Roy popped the champagne and he and Keeley pulled up chairs. He offered his ex the bottle, “You start us off.”
“Mmm, don’t mind if I do,” she took a swig.
“Right,” Jamie turned to Roy, “What the fuck happened, man?”
The four of them laughed as the champagne was passed around.
“Did I look sexy?” Jamie asked, turning to Y/n and handing her the bottle, “Babe?”
“I take it all back,” Y/n joked and took a swig, “I’m not ready for this. We’re back to being friends.”
Jamie laughed and tugged her closer to him.
“Shame you weren’t injured in your fucking head, innit?” Roy grinned.
“Right,” Keeley spoke up, “You gonna tell us how this happened? Spare no details?”
Roy took the bottle from Y/n, “You can spare the details.”
Y/n scoffed, “Oh, there’ll be details spared.”
“She just doesn’t want people to know she stole my virtue,” Jamie cheekily smiled, “I get that right, babe?”
Keeley gasped, Roy grunted.
“I will fucking leave you here to freeze to death,” Y/n threatened, “If you ever tell people that’s what happened.”
The foursome stayed put for a good half hour, their raucous laughter bouncing off the walls. Y/n and Jamie explained an edited version of what happened in London to cause such tension at Georgie and Simon’s house. Keeley, surprisingly, didn’t seem to care that she was watching one of her best friends and her ex-boyfriend tell how they’d fallen in love. She was more thrilled than anyone. Roy was less than enthusiastic, but couldn’t hide his smile as he saw how happy Jamie seemed.
When it was time to leave, Roy helped Jamie in to Y/n’s car. He’d need someone to help him around the house for a day or two and there was no one else he wanted to take care of him. They made the twenty minute drive to Jamie’s house non-eventfully, Jamie pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hand at every red light they hit.
Y/n unloaded their bags first, dropping them in the hall, before coming back to help Jamie out of the car. They managed the driveway and the threshold just fine, and the second Y/n had locked the door behind them, Jamie was on her, crushing their lips and bodies together.
After so many months of falling without notice, neither realized just how much love they had for one another until they could express it fully. Like looking through some all-knowing kaleidoscope, everything leading up to that very moment made crystal clear sense. The jealousy, the adoration, the attachment…it had all been leading to this.
All of Jamie’s hard work, his effort to become his best self had mattered. This was the payoff.
Y/n’s long-standing walls crumbled with each touch, never to be rebuilt. Her fear melted at their feet.
They were free of their pasts, belonging only to their future.
————
Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)
458 notes · View notes
believesthings · 9 months
Text
Paper Thin // Ted Lasso x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: you’ve been secretly listening to your hot American neighbor masturbate through the walls. When you finally do go inside his place for the first time, some interesting revelations come to light.
Warnings: smut. smut. smut. Masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, light anal play, nipple play, body praise, vibrators, slight allusion to violence but nothing is specifically described or mentioned.
You have a filthy fucking habit.
Your vibrator has taken a permanent residence on the empty side of your bed to allow for easy access when you hear the inevitable shuffle on the other side of your bedroom wall.
The entire ordeal started when Ted Lasso came to town. You had heard about the news, of course. Football was a big deal around here and even if you weren’t big into the sport, it was pretty close knit community and a new face, especially an American one, was bound to make some waves.
What you hadn’t expected was for him to be so… hot.
You were at the Crown and Anchor when it first hit the airwaves. You were pulled from your own personal bubble when you heard Peter from the bar shout,
“Farmer fuckin’ Brown is gonna be the new gaffer?”
You pulled your head up to see Ted’s smiling face on the screen, explaining how he was taking over for AFC Richmond.
People weren’t thrilled about it to say the least. You kept quiet though. You had to admit, looking at him, you weren’t mad about it. He seemed exactly like your type. You figured that it didn’t really matter. Most likely, you would never run into the man.
That, as it turned out, was massively inaccurate.
The flat next to yours has been empty for a few months. You’d gotten used to the silence, so much so that when you heard footsteps and a voice, a male voice, on the other side of the wall, your first instinct was to call the police.
You were so startled that you stood there, phone in hand, hovering over your bed. When you heard the knock on your door, you tried not to panic. Making your way slowly to the door, sneaking a glance through the peek hole, you see a disheveled Ted Lasso at your doorstep. You open the door in a haze.
He is hotter in person, you decide. Up close you can see the stubble from where he hasn’t shaved. His sleeves pushed up exposing his forearms. A little tendril of hair over his forehead that you want to run your hands through. Big, bright eyes that you could probably get lost in. What was that Dolly Parton lyric?
Here you come again, looking better than a body has the right to.
That seemed to embody Richmond’s new football manager.
You both stared at each other momentarily. He broke the silence first.
“Hey there! Sorry to bother you so late, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Ted Lasso, your new neighbor.”
Oh shit. Shit. Shit.
The universe was either smiling down on you or paying you back for a nasty curse in your past life. At the moment, you weren’t sure which way the scales were tipping.
He’s there holding out his hand, seemingly about to drop it when you come to your senses.
“Y-yes. Hi. I saw you on the news. You’re the new coach?” You take his hand and he squeezes yours lightly. You’re only a little embarrassed to admit that it makes you wonder what it feel like for his hands to squeeze other parts of your body.
“That’s right. Well, listen I won’t keep you long, I know it’s late. I just wanted to stop by and say hi. I’ll try not to bother ya too much. Now I won’t lie to you - you’ll probably hear the occasional billy ocean song in the morning or maybe some late night viewings of you’ve got mail, but feel free to just bang on the wall or some thin’ if I ever get too loud for ya.”
You nod, practically unable to form words.
“Oh shoot! I didn’t catch your name.” He pauses waiting for you to give it, which you do.
“Nice to meet ya. Goodnight neighbor!” He flashes you a smile that practically makes you melt before he’s off to his own door.
You were definitely screwed.
The first time you heard him touching himself, you almost didn’t realize what was happening. There was some vague shuffling on the other side of the wall and you were wrapped up in your own world to really pay that much attention. The moans started, light and soft, you couldn’t really be sure what you were hearing but as he got more and more into it, it became clear.
Oh fuck.
You were squirming listening to the sounds he was making. It didn’t sound like there were any other noises so you have to assume he was alone.
You’re practically holding your breath, as if just a simple exhale would give you away and he would stop. One deep grunt in particular, followed by a light bang of his headboard against the wall as he jutted his cock up into the curve of his palm, had you damn near convulsing.
That was the first night you broke out the vibrator. It hasn’t been put back in your drawer since.
You hear the familiar knock of Ted’s hand on your door and you scurry to answer.
“Hey! I baked some goodies for my favorite neighbor.”
Jesus Christ, he bakes too?
“Favorite neighbor, huh? What about Mrs. Shipley?”
He waves you off, “oh I think I might’ve burned my bridge with her a while ago. Bit too loud for her taste.”
“Might not hurt to bake her some treats, get back on her good side. You could get yourself a discount from Shipley’s Steakhouse.”
He looks directly at you when you replies, “Oh now, I love a good steak, don’t get me wrong but what I really value is loyalty and I’m not one to quit, so when I find a favorite… trust me, I stick with it.”
Either you’re hallucinating or his eyes seem to move up and down your body at the end of his speech. Was he still talking about baking? Surely, you’re reading too much into this. He couldn’t be into you, could he?
You can hear him again. You reach for your vibrator beginning to travel down between your legs at the sounds of his moans.
This is also the only time you’ve heard him curse.
“O-oh fuck.”
You close your eyes, trying to picture what he must look like on the other side of the wall.
You have no idea what his typical nightly attire is but for the purposes of your fantasies, you imagine he’s shirtless, legs stretched out, lazily stroking his cock. His eyes are also closed, just like your own, soaking in his own pleasure. Familiarizing himself with every ridge and curve. He doesn’t go too fast at first, wants to feel it steadily build. He keeps a thumb on the tip, rubbing smooth, slow circles. A bit of pre-cum is probably already leaking out, as he uses it to coat the head of his cock. You can hear his moans getting increasingly louder, loosening his inhibitions. He’s probably giving himself smooth, even strokes, thrusting his cock into his own hand.
You follow suit at the idea, grinding your hips in a way that has you fucking yourself against your vibrator.
You can hear his moaning getting more erratic on the other side of the wall and you’re sure he’s close. Thank god. Because you are too.
You hear another string of curses, followed by a final moan that you’re sure is his release and you follow momentarily behind him, trying to remain quiet. If you can hear him through the walls, it stands to reason that he would be able to hear you too.
You both come down from your high together, separated by a nearly paper thin wall.
You fall into a comfortable rhythm with Ted. He brings you baked goods, you chat and flirt at the doorway, you sneak to his door and write little thank you notes. Then at night, you shamelessly fuck yourself while listening to him cum.
You had ended up at Ted’s doorstep after a particularly nasty date. You were rain soaked, shoes covered in mud and shivering.
When he opened the door and you saw him standing there, looking so cozy in his sweater, it almost made you wanna cry.
He didn’t ask questions, he stepped aside for you to come in.
“Gonna run you a bath, alright?”
You nod. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to warm yourself up.
“Come on, darlin’.”
He’s filled up the tub for you, leaving you alone to get undressed and get settled in.
“Ted?”
He peaks his head around to see you in the bath. “Yeah?”
“Would it be weird for me to ask you to stay in here with me? I don’t really wanna be alone right now.”
He seems momentarily fazed but he recovers quickly. “Yeah, of course.”
He doesn’t make an effort to get in the bath with you, he sits in front of tub, his back against it.
“Not that I don’t appreciate your presence but can I ask what you’re doing here? Is everything alright?”
You don’t answer at first. Weighing it out in your head. He doesn’t rush you, not that you would expect him too.
“Well, I downloaded Bantr..”
You don’t notice it, but Ted stiffens against the tub. Jealously, he guesses. Which is ridiculous. He knows he has no right be. He would never want to be one of those guys that tries to dictate who you could or couldn’t spend time with but he hates you the idea of you with someone else all the same.
“I didn’t really want to do it, to be honest. I mostly did it to support Keeley. Anyway, there was a guy I was talking to on there and we finally went out on a date tonight. It was.. bad.” You wonder at the way your voice cracks at the last word.
“He was… he..” you trail off.
Ted seems to become even more tense. In a tone you’ve never heard from him before, he asks, “Did he hurt you?”
When you don’t respond, he takes long, deep breaths. You’re not giving him much to go off of and his anxiety is filling in the gaps with some pretty nasty scenarios. “Darlin’, I would never want to force you to talk about anything you don’t want to but I need a yes or no answer. I need to know what we’re dealing with here.”
You instantly note the fact that he said what we’re dealing with instead of what you’re dealing with.
“It was awful, Ted. The entire night was just one backhanded compliment after another. He constantly interrupted everything I had to say. He kept making all these little snide remarks. And the poor waitress, he was such a prick to her. At one point, he actually said that the date and I were a waste of time and then he left me with the check and no ride home. So, I walked here.”
“You could’ve called me, ya know. You didn’t need to walk, especially in the rain. I would’ve come and got you.”
“What if you were busy?”
“Doesn’t matter. Nothing could keep me from you.”
You raise your hand up to run your fingers through his hair. He leans back into your touch. “Ted, could you join me, please?”
He turns to fully look at you. “You sure you’re comfortable with that?”
You nod but you had a feeling he would want verbal confirmation. “Yes.” You follow up by asking, “Are you? Comfortable with that?”
“Yeah, course.”
You watch him undress and you scoot forward, drawing your legs up to allow him to slide behind you. He picks you up and slides you onto his lap. You try not to focus on the feeling of his growing erection prodding against your back, instead leaning back and relaxing against his chest. You watch the water pool around knees and see his arms wrap around your front, making his way up your body.
You hear his words rumble in his chest as you press against him. “There we go. You feeling okay?”
You nod, “Yeah. Thank you, Ted.”
You chuckles lowly in you ear. “You don’t need to thank me. This is exactly where you should be.”
He rubs small circles into your hips and asks, “Can I kiss you?”
“I think I would lose my mind if you didn’t.”
He tilts your head up and Leans down to kiss you. You can feel his hand, moving further up your body to begin idly toying with your nipple. You let out an involuntary whimper into his mouth and you can feel him smirking against your lips. The bastard. He definitely knows what he’s doing. When he break apart, he brings his hand up to run a finger across your bottom lip. You open your mouth and suck his finger into your mouth. Ted lets out a sudden guttural groan that tells you that you made a good call.
You flutter your tongue up and down his finger, tightening your lips and sucking. He answers with another growl before bringing his other hand down to continue playing your nipples, rubbing circles, feeling them harden beneath his touch, and then when you least expect it, pinching at them too.
You break away to let out a moan of your own. "You feel so good." You say to him, feeling him continue to toy with your body.
He dips his head down, placing kisses to your neck. "I'm sorry you had a bad date, sweetheart. But that boy clearly didn't know what he had right there in front of him. It probably worked out for the best, you deserve better than that. He wouldn't have been able to make you moan like this anyway."
You peer up at him, "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"
He leans down to your ear, "Because I know what gets you going sweetheart. I don't think that vibrator is as quiet as you think it is."
Oh Shit.
You whip your head around at him. "You knew this whole time?"
He nods at you as you shrink you body, trying to hide your face in embarrassment.
"Oh, now there's no need to start getting shy on me now, Darlin'. Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep my cool around you sometimes? You remember that time you came by and brought my phone to my office because I went off and left it at home?"
You nod, trying to focus on his words while you can feel his hands continuing their exploration of you.
"Some of the guys in the locker room were talking about you, how attractive you were and it drove me crazy. I wanted to tell them that none of them had a chance because I knew at the end of the day, you were going home and sharing all pleasure with me. Do you know how wild it made me to know that you were on the other side of the wall, stroking your silky little pussy while listening to me? I had never even laid a hand on you but hearing you break out that vibrator, it was enough to make me want to claim you as mine."
You laugh lightly at this. "I've always been yours, Ted. Since that first night you knocked on my door."
He runs his hands along your inner thighs, soothing you into relaxation. When his fingers began to play lightly over your pussy, he hard you sigh in relief. He keeps kissing down your neck, he nips lightly at your shoulder. He works two of his fingers around your opening, dipping inside to find you wet and ready.
"You wanna know what I thought about all those times I was touching myself? I bet you already know. I was thinking about my pretty neighbor."
You had just enough coherence left in you to crack a joke. "Mrs. Shipley? I'm sure she would be flattered."
He doesn't acknowledge your quip, instead bringing you for another kiss, continuing to finger you under the water of the bath. "There is nothing better than the feeling of you getting wet for me."
He brings his thumb up to rub circles on your clit and you're arching your back against him.
"You're so responsive, aren't you sweetheart? Can you do me a favor? Can you get on your knees for me?"
You do as he asks, feeling his hands stoke along your hips, positioning you against the opposite end of the tub. He kisses down your arched spine, groaning at the sight of you - the swell of your ass rising from the water, bubbles from the soap pooling around you. He takes his hands, rubbing them smoothly over your skin, drinking you in. He leans over you, "I need to be inside you, sweetheart. Would that be okay with you?"
You nodded, your head relaxing against your arms.
You feel him begin to push into you. "Don't worry, honey. I'm not gonna give you a straight plunge to the top of ya. Gotta let you adjust, don't we?"
You gasp and stiffen at the feel of him, new and incredibly full, tapping you part way into you.
He goes back to toying with your body, giving you light kisses, waiting for you to relax against him. He can feel you arch your ass back into his hips. He can hear you gasp and let out a moan as you relax around him. "I was right, you are responsive. That's it baby, open up for me. I can feel you practically fluttering around my cock, honey."
He gives one final push, now fully inside you. He never lets his hands take a break. His fingers are either circling your clit or toying towards your ass. You can feel him all over you.
"You close already? You're taking me so well."
"Yes" you moan out - head rolling against your forearms trying to keep balance.
"Can you help me come baby?" Ted was speeding up a bit now, his thrusts making you brace against the side of the tub.
"Y-Yes."
He brings his thumb against your ass, slowly sliding it into you, you gasp out at the sensation, tensing up at the new feeling.
"I got ya, honey. Just relax. Just wanna make you feel good, nice and full, okay?"
He begins moving his thumb to the same rhythm as his cock, enjoying your moans, rubbing the pad of his thumb against you, he says, "I can feel my cock in you. You feel... so g-good." He groans out. "So tight." He growls more to himself than to you. "You ready to cum for me?"
You were beginning to shake, feeling helpless against the tidal wave of pleasure. The fullness that made you feel split open, the tingling and sparking that indicated that you were so, so close. "Y-Yes."
He hand reaches to tug your clit in between his fingers, "Cum for me, Darling." Your head jerks back, knocking against his collarbone as you shudder blissfully. After a final push of his cock and fingers, he growls and joins you, mouth biting down on your shoulder, absorbing his moans.
Gently sliding out of you, He wraps his arms around your shaking body, wrapping you against him, gently rocking you back and forth while your breathing returned to normal. "You were so good for me." He gives you one final kiss and lifts you from the tub, drying you off with a towel and rubbing coconut oil on the sore parts of your body.
"Thank you, Ted."
"How many times do I need to tell ya, Darling? You don't need to thank me."
He hovers above you for a moment before continuing, "Although I guess there is something you could do for me if you wanted."
"Course, Teddy. You can have anything."
"You can invite me over to your place one of these nights and let me use that pretty little vibrator on you myself."
521 notes · View notes
onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months
Text
Playing Pretend (Roy Kent x Reader)
Request: Hey, I was wondering if you'd do a Roy Kent x reader series (maybe) where she asks him to pretend they're boyfriend/girlfriend because her ex-boyfriend is marrying her somewhat younger sister. Kinda like The Wedding Date (if you've seen it). Ends up happily ever after?
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10 (Final)
747 notes · View notes
ultralightpoe · 2 months
Text
Anti-hero - Roy Kent
Authors Note : Based off a request I got {Could you do a Jamie or Roy fic with a girl who feels self conscious as their date to a gala or something? Lots of fluff and comfort! If you don’t want to write it, no worries 💜} A quick reminder that you are all beautiful and truly wonderful. You all deserve the world, and I hope you all find your own Roy Kent. -Ultralightpoe
Word Count: 3,997
Warnings: self doubt. curse words
Requests: OPEN
Main Master list - - Midnights Event List
Tumblr media
(Thank you for the gif @50shadesofpemberlypost )
x Enjoy x
I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser
Midnights become my afternoons
When my depression works the graveyard shift
All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room
It had been an issue for years, one that was directly caused by your mother. 
It’s not that she was a villain, and it wasn’t like she knew she was doing it anyways, it was always something that just managed to slip out of her mouth in passing moments . A quick ‘that shows your back fat’ there and a ‘are you sure you like that color? It washes you out baby’. Always said with that tone that made you rethink every decision in life. 
She did it out of love. 
But the comments she made built up, that and the pressure of school and social media building up. It all took a toll on you. You found your life mixed with new issues. Anxiety, self-doubt, depression, and you became a new person. 
It was like a shadow version of you, one that tracked how much she ate and thought about how loud she laughed and how much was too much talking. Every single move you made was tracked and overthought.
But then Roy came into the picture. 
At first you did what you usually did, you tried to speak low and not draw too much attention. Tracking how much you laughed and how much you ate. It was fine because your friend group never really realized it, they didn’t know a thing was out of place. But Roy, who had been brought by his sister, was quick to call it out. 
“Fucking stop that.” He muttered when you tried to fix your skirt, using his hand to slap yours away. “You look fucking perfect. Take a breath, yeah?”
“I just…. I’m debating the color, everyone else wore pastels and I hadn’t realized that it would be that type of party.” You admit, body hot with embarrassment as a group of girls pass you at the party. But that was the least of your worries, you had eaten too much cake and had tripped on the stairs in front of your friends. Could everyone see your makeup on your neck? Were they laughing at you-
“Do you overthink everything?” Roy blurts, catching your elbow to pull you back gently as a waiter with a heavy tray passes by. “Because I’ll tell you right now that you’re the prettiest fucking woman at this party.”
“You can’t say that at someone’s birthday party.” You laugh, stepping closer to him without realizing. “That’s one of the biggest rules. It’s like saying someone is prettier than Aphrodite. Next thing you know that person will be cursed to marry your father because the goddess hates you.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s…. Greek mythology. I’m not going to marry my dad. It… okay. I’ve ruined this so I am just going to-” You move away quicker than he can follow and you think that it was over. But you had not known just how determined Roy Kent was. 
Soon enough he was taking you out, one date became 4 which led to a relationship. 10 months in and you were the happiest you had ever been. He saw you, in every outfit and every mood and every way, and he loved you just as you were. 
But there was something you didn’t expect, the amount of attention that would come with dating a professional football player. It was a whole new demon in itself. 
I should not be left to my own devices
They come with prices and vices
I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)
I wake up screaming from dreaming
One day I'll watch as you're leaving
'Cause you got tired of my scheming
(For the last time)
Lunches with your mother were the worst, and yet you loved her more than anything. Today she chose an extremely fancy restaurant dressed in a Valentino outfit and her makeup to perfection as she cut her salad up with her fork and knife. 
“Oh this is dreadful.” She sighs, shaking her head. “There is barely any chicken in here. This is insane. Do you see chicken?”
“There is chicken.” Roy shrugs, narrowing his eyes a bit. Lunches with them were always such a weird dynamic considering they were exact opposites. Your mother looked for drama, she thrived off of arguing. Roy chose brutal honesty, he worked best on shutting arguments down before they could even start.  “It’s right there.”
“Oh, baby that is a terrible color on you.” She huffs, sitting the plate back down and turning her glare on you as her hand raises to call the server over. “It washes you out. What have I told you about-”
“She looks fucking stunning today.” Roy scoffs, blinking slowly. 
“It’s fine.” You whisper to him, trying to defuse the situation. 
“No, it’s not.”
“Now I read somewhere that there is a big fundraiser gala coming up, it was in the paper. I assume you both will be attending.” Your mother begins, smiling when the server starts heading over. “You should let me dress you darling. I know how you get anxious about that all and I want to make sure you look your best.”
“She’ll look bloody fantastic in anything-”
“Oh you finally decided to serve your table.” Your mother interrupts him, talking to the server and completely disregarding your boyfriend. 
He takes a moment to lean over to you, catching your eyes. “I’m about to stab my fork into my fucking eye.”
“I know.” You smile, leaning in closer to kiss his cheek which makes him growl a bit at the pda but you see the smile he fights off anyways. “We’ll be gone soon.”
“You look great and the dress you pick will be fantastic. Don’t listen to her.” He gruffs out. 
“Have you seen those posts of you two? They were commenting on your age difference and I just want you to know that I do not think you are too immature for him. Truthfully honey I am proud, I never thought you’d make it with someone so accomplished. I mean it’s not like you had many prospects.” She laughs as the server sends Roy a wide eyed look while taking her plate away leaving the table once more. 
“That’s it.” Roy snaps, slamming his silverware down on the table and pointing his finger at her. “You watch how you speak to her. She’s perfect. And she will be a bombshell at the gala.”
Your mothers face flushes, blinking at him slowly as Roy goes back to his meal like nothing happened while you fight off a smile, your foot rubbing his calf under the table in a silent thank you before you try to pull it back only for his legs to slam shut keeping your foot held there. 
He sends you a sharp look, but the corner of his mouth curves up and you know that was his way of showing his love so you take it, smiling right back at him. 
It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me
At tea time, everybody agrees
I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero
The dress you chose for the gala was perfect, you were excited to wear it and truthfully you were excited about the whole thing. This would be the first event you had ever attended with the Richmond team in the public eye, and you wanted to make a good impression. 
But your mothers words from the years rang through your head constantly as you waited for their practice to end, leaning against the wall in the hallway as you thought about everything. 
“Oh! Hello.” A angelic voice rings out, pulling your attention to Rebecca Welton coming down the hallway, making you stand up quickly. 
“Ms. Welton! Hi, hello, hey…. I’m saying hi in too many ways.” You blush, moving to shake her hand. “It’s great to see you again.”
“I was just about to say the same thing. Are you waiting for the boys?”
“I am, yeah. My car is in the shop so I need a ride.” 
“Oh lovely, will I be seeing you at the gala? I have been planning it for weeks, my ex husband used to plan it. The wanker.”
“I’ll be there. I just hope I dress well enough.” You laugh slightly, but her eyebrow raises and you panic slightly. Did everyone on this team just see right through all your shit? 
“You’ll look perfect. I wish I still had a figure like yours.”
“ANGEL!” Someone calls out before you are lifted into the arms of Danny Rojas, kissing the side of your face as he swings you around. 
“Alright. Set her down, will ya?” Roy snaps, coming around the corner and rubbing his knee as Danny sets you down quickly, kissing your cheek one more time before heading away. You lean forward and rub Roy’s knee right where you know he feels the most pain. 
“Is it hurting a lot?” You mumble, as he pulls your hand away. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”
“No, I just don’t want to moan in the middle of this hallway. Let’s go home?” Before you can even answer he is grabbing your bag and moving to take you to the car. 
Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby
And I'm a monster on the hill
Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city
Pierced through the heart, but never killed
Roy was in a shit mood the day of the gala, slamming cupboard after cupboard. You knew he was irritated about having to dress up and see the reporters that used to write about him all the time, and you knew in moments like this it was best to let him work through it. But sometimes you just couldn’t stay away. 
Shuffling closer, in his shirt, you wrap your arms around his center and shove your face into his back. He huffs out as he keeps swiping  the sponge against the counter, but he doesn’t push you away so you take a chance and kiss between his shoulder blades. “It’s going to be okay. What they say about you doesn’t matter.”
He sighs out, letting go of the sponge before turning around in your arms and wrapping his own around you, placing a kiss on your forehead. 
“You were young and they were assholes for that…. So fuck them.”
“Fuck them.” He repeats. 
“You’re going to walk by them in your fine ass suit with your fine ass body-”
“Please don’t objectify me.” He mumbles, but a smile is already on his lips as he leans down to kiss you deeply before pulling back. “And I will have the brightest fucking gem with me tonight.”
“Oh, c’mon.” You blush, trying to pull back but his arms are tight around you. 
“I think we need to fuck.” He huffs kisses at your face again. 
“Don’t be so crass!” You laugh, trying to escape him and shuffling you both to the bedroom right as your phone rings. “It’s my mother.”
“No. Don’t answer.”
“I have to, or she’s gonna be mad.” You answer back, watching his face turn dead serious as he looks at you. His hands come up to rub at your jaw. 
“You listen to me you little rat.” He mumbles, you fighting back a laugh at the nickname. “Don’t listen to a word she says, because you are beautiful.”
“I won’t. I promise.” You promise, kissing his lips deeply and losing yourself to the kiss for a moment before he pulls back and shuffles to continue cleaning the counter. You swipe your thumb across the screen and mumble out a “Hello mother.”
“Oh you’re there! I thought you were about to ignore my call.” She snaps through the phone. 
Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism
Like some kind of congressman? (Tale as old as time)
I wake up screaming from dreaming
One day I'll watch as you're leaving
And life will lose all its meaning
(For the last time)
You broke your promise, and you let your mother get the best of you. 
Her words from earlier bounce around your mind as you get ready. You debate whether or not your hair looked healthy as you spray hairspray across it. Did it look greasy? Untamed? Could they see your split ends?
Was your nail polish the wrong color? Was there a patch of hair on your legs that you missed? Did the dress color wash you out? Did you look too heavy? Was it too late to cancel?
“You look…. “ Roy blinks, coming up behind you to help zip the dress. “Fuck.”
“Is that good?” You ask, biting at your lip as he leans to kiss the nape of your neck. 
“Good? You look bloody amazing.” He snaps, kissing your neck one more time before standing straight. “Now let’s go make money.”
“What are we fundraising for? I never looked into it?”
“I have no fucking clue.” 
“Right.” You laugh, turning with your hand in his as he kisses your knuckles softly. “Then let’s go make money for whatever needs money.” 
“Make a fortune.”
It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)
At tea time, everybody agrees
I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero
Your lip was worn down from the amount you had been biting it. 
Walking up to the gala you saw a red carpet with dozens of flashing cameras and begin to panic as you get closer, your hand tightening in Roys as he stands straighter. You would not be able to handle the cameras and see your picture all over the internet. What would people say? They would trash you, oh how bad would it be?
But Roy, ever the perfect man, simply held your hand tight and walked across the red carpet with a confidence that made your skin hot. He muttered to each that called his name, his voice deep and uncaring. “No. No. Fuck you. Fuck off. Fuck no.”
A smile blooming across your face as you let him lead you into the building where everyone is walking about with drinks in their hand. 
“I’m going to go get us drinks. Your usual?” He asks, waiting for your nod before heading in the direction of the bar leaving you standing there to take a look around. 
You took your chance to look around at everyone around you, smiling at anyone you make eye contact with. The anxieties began rising, as every gorgeous female passed you in their perfect dresses. Was your dress cheap looking? Did you look pathetic?
You were caught up in your thoughts as Jamie approached with his date, a model that introduces herself with a hug that makes you sniff caramel, leaving you with a crater in your chest as you look at her perfection. Jamie talks about the gala, looking around at everyone as a flash makes you blink, all three of you turning to the person that just took your picture. 
“The actual fuck?” Jamie scoffs, staring at him. “We were having a conversation, ye?”
“Sorry.” The man nods, moving to walk off and bumping into Nate with another apology. “Didn’t see you.”
“Hi Nate.” You smile, trying to seem calm when he walks up. “You look great.”
“Thank you! Mr. Lasso actually bought me this suit.”
“Who?” You blink, trying to see who he had been talking about. It wasn’t meant to be a snappy or snide comment, you had yet to be introduced to the new coach and the name didn’t ring a bell at first. But the second you saw the man with the mustache owning the crowd not far off you knew who Nate was talking about. 
But when you turn back to Nate you see a glare set on his features, his cheeks a little red as he blatantly looks away from you. “You look great, Jamie. You as well Keeley.”
Then he walks off, bumping into you harshly as he passes which makes the blonde look at you with wide eyes as Jamie excuses himself for another drink. 
“Oh, that was extremely rude of me. I shouldn’t have asked about the coach- that was-”
“What are you talking about?” She blinks, looking extremely confused. “You didn’t do anything wrong?”
“Here you are.” Roy grunts, handing you the chilled glass. “Keeley.”
“Hello Roy.” She smiles before Jamie whistles to pull her over. 
“Did he just call her like she was a dog?” You ask Roy as she walks over, and he shrugs. 
“He’s a wanker. Always has been and always will be.” Roy grunts out, rolling his eyes. “He doesn’t ever pass the ball. And he is a massive tool. You should hear some of the things he says to-” He begins to explain as you try to smooth out your dress before his hand shoots out to stop you. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Your answer was too quick, his eyes narrow and he catches it. 
“What happened?”
“I just…. I think I upset Nate because I asked to Lasso was and I didn’t mean to and everyone here looks amazing. But I’m fine. Everything is fine.” 
“Did that little fuck say something?”
“No. It’s fine Roy. Everything is fine.” You smile, leaning forward to kiss his lips which he allows before moving back and holding his hand knowing he doesn’t like pda.  “Let’s go find our seats?”
I have this dream my daughter in-law kills me for the money
She thinks I left them in the will
The family gathers 'round and reads it and then someone screams out
"She's laughing up at us from hell"
“Hello Roy, you handsome devil you.” A southern voice rings out, walking up to where you and Roy were seated together. “And what pairs so well with a handsome devil? An angel.”
“The devil is technically… well historically the devil is an angel.” You blush, immediately feeling stupid as the fun fact slips from your lips. “Well, I mean- I’m sorry that was stupid.”
“Stupid? Absolutely not. I feel ashamed that I didn’t know it.” He laughs, leaning to shake your hand. “My name is Ted, all my friends call me Ted which means you must.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you. Roy was telling me about all the new techniques at your practices.” You smile, making your boyfriend shake his head. 
“I said nothing good.” Roy huffs.  
“He said everything good.” You smile which makes Ted smile back. 
“You both look fantastic. Have a drink on me, since it’s an open bar.” Ted jokes, moving to walk away as Roy places his hand on your lower back. 
“Why the fuck would you tell him that I said good things?” He huffs and your stomach drops. 
“I’m sorry. It was just teasing and you do always say great things about him so-”
“Take it easy. You are fine.” He shakes his head. “Are you okay?”
You hadn’t noticed but your fists had clenched and your nails were digging into your skin, his own fingers were quick to make you release the hold and rub his thumb over the crescent marks left on your skin before bringing your hand up to kiss your palm. 
“I thought you hated pda.” You whisper, leaning so your foreheads were pressed together as he pretended to roll his eyes. 
“Fuck it. I have a gorgeous date and I deserve to kiss her in public.” 
“Are you sure? It’s a big move for you.”
“Have you seen yourself? Prettier than the goddess aphrodite.” He smiles and your eyes widen. 
“How. Dare. You! What have you done? I’m going to have to marry my dad now. Roy, how could you have done this to me?” You laugh, shaking your head. “I also cannot believe you remember that from almost a year ago.”
“Of course I remember.” He blinks. “That was the first conversation I had with the love of my life. Who would forget that?”
“Oh knock it off.” You mumble, shaking your head. 
“Knock it off? Knock what off?” He snaps. “Do you realize how fucking lucky I was that day? The day you looked at me? My life was made. The second best day of my life.”
“Second?”
“Second. My niece’s birth is the first.” 
“I’m fucking honored.” You laugh, smiling from ear to ear. 
“Did you just cuss?”
“I did. I’m sorry. My mother would kill me.” You blush. 
“Can I be honest with you for a second?”
“When are you not?”
“Fuck your mother.” He blurts, which makes your eyes widen. “I hate her. I think she is miserable and you are far fucking prettier than aphrodite and you don’t have to worry about the goddess making you marry your dad because I will be marrying you. No goddess or god could keep me from you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You’re stuck with me. And I need you to stop being to fucking mean to yourself. You hear me?” He asks seriously. “Because that’s the love of my life you are talking about.” 
“I can try.” 
“Good. Now lets get another round and wait this fucking gala out. Then lets go get actual food because I know you skipped lunch.”
“Sounds like a plan.” You smile before a flash blinds you once more, making you both whirl to the man with the camera. 
“You fucker-” Roy begins to stand as he dashes off. 
It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me
It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me
It's me, hi, everybody agrees, everybody agrees
You both end up at a late night potato stand, sitting on one of their benches as you both laugh at the memory of the auction that had taken place. 
“A fucking grandma bid on me. You know how embarrassing that was?”
“Hey! I bid on you too!” You laugh, body shaking from laughing so hard. “And Keeley!”
“Keeley was pissing that little wanker off.” He huffs, rubbing your thigh gently as you keep his blazer wrapped around you. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”
“Thank you for bringing me. I am sorry I upset Nate-”
“Stop saying sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He mumbles, leaning to dig his spoon into your baked potato and take a big mouthful of it. “Fuck. That is good.”
“You say that about anything I get! You always do this!” You laugh, pretending to pull the potato away. 
“You always choose better!”
It's me, hi (hi), I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)
At tea (tea) time (time), everybody agrees (everybody agrees)
I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero
“Fuck!” You wake up to the sound of Roy yelling from the kitchen, rushing to wrap yourself in the sheet left on the bed from last night as your feet pad across the floor to find where he is at. 
You find him sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, glaring at his laptop, until he sees you coming out of the bedroom in just a sheet. 
“Fuck.” Unlike his last curse this one is said with a lusty tone, setting the coffee down as you come closer to the couch and move to sit by him. 
“What’s got you so mad, handsome?”
“They posted a picture of me and they said I’m retired. What fucks.”
“Is it a bad idea? To be retired?” You ask, moving to straddle him before he can pull an attitude. “You would have more time with me. More time to hang out and cuddle and sleep and…. You can finish the rest.” 
“.....Fuck.”
149 notes · View notes
caapsiizzereads · 9 months
Note
Would you do a Jamie Tartt imagine where he and his girlfriend's anniversary is during an away game so he's super clingy and pouty he's missing it before/after the game, thanks in advance!
🤲
Jamie has been ecstatic about playing for the England national team. He doesn’t care about the extra travel or extra training – it’s all worth it. That is, until the date of an away match falls on your one-year anniversary. Suddenly, he isn’t excited for the match at all. He asks if you can come with him, but you’re swamped with work, so that isn’t an option.
Jamie can be one dramatic bitch sometimes, and it’s exactly one of those times. You insist that it’s fine and you can celebrate on the next day, but it’s not good enough for him.
“We’ll have other anniversaries,” you’re trying to comfort him. It’s only after you say it that you realize that it’s a bit presumptuous.
Jamie doesn’t seem to notice. “But this is our first one!”
“Jamie, it’s fine, really. We’ll just celebrate on the next day, it’s not a big deal.”
He whines.
“Okay, this is it. You don’t get to complain. You will be in Naples, playing for the fucking national team, while I’m stuck here.”
“But it’s no fun if you’re not there!” he pouts.
“It is if you win the match. Have some ice cream for me.” You kiss him on the cheek, and he lays his head on your chest miserably.
Jamie stays glued to your side for the whole day before he has to leave, he kisses you, like, a hundred times, and then hugs you for a full three minutes before stepping out the door.
You facetime when he’s there. He calls you the first thing in the morning, and you just hang out on a call while getting ready for your days, you say that you’ll be cheering for him and wish him good luck on his match. Then he texts you right after the match, and you congratulate him on the win.
The team is getting on the bus to go to the airport, and Jamie just can’t wait to get back to you. He googles all the food places that will still be open when he lands, so that you’ll be able to at least have a simple dinner at home. Fortunately, being a famous footballer comes with some privileges, one of which is that certain restaurants are willing to provide their services for him even after their regular closing time.
Jamie texts you when he lands, and you instantly reply, which means that you aren’t asleep yet, so he happily stops by a restaurant to pick up the food on his way home.
When Jamie parks by your house, he notices that the lights are off. It’s been only an hour since you texted him, surely you couldn’t fall asleep, right? He quietly enters the house and takes off his shoes. Now, standing in the hallway, he can see the dim light coming from the kitchen.
He walks into the room to find it illuminated by a dozen candles and you sitting on the kitchen island, smiling charmingly at him.
“Hi,” you greet him playfully.
“Hi,” he says softly, feeling the warmth in his cheeks. No matter how much time goes by, you always have this effect on him. “I got dinner,” he lifts his hand with the takeout bags in it. “And ice cream. Had to get it here, though, didn’t think it could survive the flight.”
“I got wine,” you nod in the direction of a wine bottle and two empty glasses standing on the counter.
Jamie puts the bags near them and walks up to you, standing in the space between your legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. “Happy anniversary.”
Jamie melts into your embrace, smiling blissfully at you. “Happy anniversary.”
423 notes · View notes
daydreamgoddess14 · 9 months
Text
Complaints Procedure
MASTERLIST
Roy Kent x F!Reader
Literally just 1.5k of pure filth. Sorry, not sorry?! 😅Taken from this prompt.
Inspired by this image:
Tumblr media
~~~~~
You knew to avoid the locker room immediately before and after matches. The less than stellar performance of the team during the season had seemingly made everyone angry - even Sam was down. Jamie Tartt continued to annoy and degrade everyone who so much as glanced at him, and the so-called Captain looked about ready to throw in the towel. Getting rid of George Cartrick may have been a wise decision, but his replacement was certainly unorthodox. You had your work cut out for you in HR, it was like babysitting 2 year olds - they all still bit, kicked, and scratched. Seeing you always gave them the initiative to put complaints in, complaints that you had to be seen to legitimately deal with, even if dealing with it meant sitting the idiots involved down and giving them a telling off. You had never told off Roy Kent, though. The man terrified and turned you on in equal measure.
Just the low timbre of his voice made your heart pound and flooded your body with want. Training was long over, so you figured you were safe to take some paperwork down to Ted Lasso's office. Your heels clicked on the concrete as you made your way through the maze of rooms. Wage slips for the folks in the ticket office, holiday forms for the staff in the medical and treatment areas, and the weekly update on player relations that Ted had asked you to draft. Who was fighting with who, who had you had to threaten with suspension, and who you'd just had to give an arse kicking to. As you turn to leave Ted’s office, Roy is coming back in from the showers. With just a towel gripped in his hand. You look literally anywhere else. The ceiling tiles become particularly interesting. 
"Oi, what you doing in here?"
"Just dropping some paperwork off, no need to be rude."
"Sorry, just… thought I was alone, that's all." You drag your eyes from the ceiling to his, drawing an invisible line across his nose so you do not look any lower. "See something you like?" He teases, as if he knows it's taking all your will to not look at his chest or the towel. 
"Definitely not. I'm done now, I'll leave you to it." 
 
You're sure you must hold your breath on the walk from the locker room to your office because as soon as you shut the door, it all comes out in a whoooosh. As good-looking as he is, you can't stand his arrogance, dominance, and anger issues. You knew it was nothing new in football or in work at all, really. You'd seen every layer of the food chain, and it was always the top of the tree who thought they were gods gift. You knew he could be kind and thoughtful. You'd seen it for yourself with the younger, less experienced players and with fans too. It was definitely a certain calibre of person who set him off - the Jamie Tartts and George Cartricks of the world. You're still leaning against your office door when you feel and hear it knock. When it begins to open against your back, you have to jump out of the way so it can swing open. Fully clothed, Roy is on the other side. 
"Do I scare you?" He asked, frowning. 
"Course you don't scare me, I'm not a sodding child." You roll your eyes. "Did you need something?" 
"I might need to put in a complaint." You arch an eyebrow at him, 
"Really? Go on?" He took a step closer to you, so you take a step back. 
"I saw the way you looked at me downstairs -" you scoffed, 
"I did not look at you at all. I actively didn't look at you," you start, angry until you see the smirk. "Oh fuck off, did you come up here just for a laugh? I've got enough to deal with picking up 
after Jamie Tartt since he can't stop making everyone miserable." He holds up his hands in surrender. 
"Alright, alright, just a joke," he laughs a little. "You wanted to look though." 
"You are just like the other idiots. So full of your own self importance, you all think everyone wants you." He narrows his eyes and takes another step towards you.
"At the risk of sounding like any of those pricks, tell me you don't?"
"What makes you think-"
"Humour me." He looks at you like he might devour you at any moment, his eyes dark with just a hint of mirth. He knows what you think about when you see him. You feel your breath quicken, and the urge to press your thighs together is desperate, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction of being right. Before he can catch you in a lie, he forces you to take one final step back against your desk and leans down to capture your mouth in a messy, obscene kiss. 
 
The shock of it makes you gasp, giving him access to deepen the kiss. Your hands grip at his shoulders to keep him close, trying to get him even closer if it's possible. He leans you back against your desk, the edge of it digging into the back of your thighs while his hands are trying to touch as much of you as possible. By leaning back on the desk, he can kiss along your jawline. It would be impossible now to make out that you don't want him, your greedy hands roam up his arms and into his hair and the sighs and moans he's pulling from you with just a kiss are insane. The length of his body presses against the length of yours and you feel him hard against your hip. Feeling how much he wants you only makes you need him more. Your hand brushes across the front of his jeans, making him jerk to meet it. He breaks the kiss and watches you breathlessly as you move to undo the button in the waistband. You can tell he's about to ask if you're sure, so you place a soft kiss to his lips,
"I want you to fuck me," you tell him quietly. There is still just a hint of hesitation in your voice, but it's more a fear that he'll reject you than anything else. 
"Fucking hell." He sighs into you. He grips your hips and turns you to face the desk, you rest on your forearms. He has your skirt rucked up around your waist in no time at all and nudges your feet a little further apart. You don't have the time or inclination to feel embarrassed or to consider something more meaningful. The singular thought in your mind is having him inside you. You hear the tear of a condom wrapper and feel him at your core. His hand cups you first, wanting to check that you're ready. "You're so fucking wet," he mutters almost proudly. He gives your hip a little squeeze of warning and pushes inside you. 
"God, Roy yesss," you hiss as he fills you completely. Fully seated, he pauses just a minute to reach down and sweep your hair to one side so he can kiss your neck, "please, Roy-" you push back against him, desperate for more. He takes the hint and pounds into you over and over. He’s hitting exactly where you need him with each thrust, and it's enough to have you believing in some sort of deity. You can feel the pressure building and you're so close to the edge it's overwhelming. "I'm so close, please daddy-" the words tumble from you, unfiltered and unexpectedly - that is a brand new one for you, and when you feel his pace slow just slightly, you're terrified that you've repelled him. He moans low in his chest and redoubles his efforts, unyielding, until you come hard, crying out his name. 
"Say it again," he whispers against your ear, his body draped over your back. His hand reaches around to rub circles over your clit and you're so sensitive that the payback is almost immediate and you can feel another orgasm building. 
"Fuck, make me come again daddy," you beg. He does exactly that within seconds of you asking, his own release coming at the same time. He holds your hips while your legs shake, his forehead resting on the center of your back. He slips out of you and disposes of the condom before turning you gently to rest you back against the desk. You keep your head down, chin to chest, mortified at what's just happened until his nose nudges against yours and he kisses you softly. 
"Holy fucking shit, I should threaten to complain again, that was insane," he breathes, still holding your hips and trying to get you to look up at him. 
"I shouldn’t ha-"
"No, don't do that. You're definitely going to say it again," he chuckles against you, "I fucking promise you'll say it again." 
 
FIN
456 notes · View notes
politelymenacing · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
We did it!
Tumblr media
1,000 works.
249 notes · View notes
medecineformelancholy · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
“You’re still wearing a Santa hat,” Trent whispered loudly as they waited for the door to open.
“It’s still Christmas, last time I checked,” Ted replied. 
------
I know I know it's late for Christmas - but here is my gift to @rngaredead for their lovely story My Day With You was a Roller Coaster and I’m Getting Back in Line. I cannot describe with words how much it lifted my spirits during this holiday time. Do you want some fluffy and then angsty and then heartbreakingly tender Tedependent? Go read What Happens After series!!!
Hope everyone is having amazing holiday time❤️❤️❤️
204 notes · View notes
veryberryjelly · 2 months
Text
married at first strike
Tumblr media
welcome to my new series !!
Tumblr media
after signing up for an experiment in which single people, matched by experts, marry total strangers who they meet for the very first time on their wedding day, jamie tartt finds himself in a hole he's not sure he wants to get out of.
Tumblr media
prologue : hen do
ep 1 : wedding
ep 2 : honeymoon
ep 3 : week one
ep 4 : dinner party
ep 5 : commitment ceremony
ep 6 : intimacy week
ep 7 : friends and family week
ep 8 : couples retreat
ep 9 : home visits
ep 10 : final vows
epilogue : the reunion
Tumblr media
cast ⚜︎ playlist
Tumblr media
taglist ;; @rexorangecounty @jamiebigbuttedtartt @neenieweenie @drmeghanjones @kaitlyn2907 @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @optimisticsandwichgladiator @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @flashyourgreeneyesatme @heyitz-julia @ace-lister @finnydraws
comment to be added x
139 notes · View notes
sokkigarden · 10 months
Text
dancing with our hands tied (part i)
jamie tartt x female reader // nsfw 18+ // enemies to lovers // fwb
Tumblr media
masterlist // read on ao3
summary: wearing the jersey of your self-proclaimed enemy wasn't supposed to go like this.
word count: 2.8k
decided to post this fic to tumblr! not sure if i will be doing a taglist, but i will be tagging each part with jamie tartt x reader + jamie tartt smut so if you are following those tags religiously (like me) then you can find it lol. its also on ao3 and will likely get updated there first if you'd like to subscribe that way. big shoutout to @whimsical-roasting for drafting this in our dms in a haze one night LMAO i would not have been able to write this without her<3333
༻✧✧✧༺
“No no no, there is no way I’m wearing that.”
Opposite of you, your best friend, Laney, stood with two Richmond jerseys in her hands. One said ‘Tartt’ across the back, the other, ‘McAdoo,’ but you already knew which one she wanted to wear. She had a raging crush on Isaac, so that left only one option for you.
And there was no way you were wearing Jamie Tartt’s fucking jersey.
You would never hear the end of it. As part of the team’s physio team, you had a good rapport with most of the players. You complimented them when they had a good match and joked around while working with them through their physical therapy treatments. 
You had a decent working relationship with everyone on the team. 
Everyone except for Jamie Tartt.
There was no question that since his return to Richmond, he had become a changed man, but his past words had left a lingering resentment. You didn’t think you were in the wrong to simply avoid interacting with the man. He hadn’t often been seen in the treatment room, and when he had, you typically passed off his treatment to another member of the team, along with some flimsy excuse for why you couldn’t do it.
But recently, as he trained more with Coach Kent outside of the dog track, he’d needed additional treatment. And as the new lead of the physio team, you were in charge of his treatment plan. 
In recent months, especially since working more closely with him, he’d started to notice the difference in behavior from you, leading to all sorts of jests and confrontations. Now, it seemed like he just got a kick out of teasing and inevitably pissing you off. You couldn’t help but fire some scathing shots back. What started out as a simple plan of avoidance had clearly backfired.
Now everytime he needed assistance with muscle cramps or pain medication, you got a conversation full of sarcasm and questions. It almost felt like sometimes he came in just to rile you up.
Just last week, Jamie came in to check on his ankle after a bad landing at training. You examined his leg and he made comments the entire time you had your hands on him.
“You know, I get waxed. Weekly. Everywhere.”
You had stumbled ever so slightly as you’d gone to grab an ice pack. You cringed inwardly, knowing this would only add more fuel to Jamie’s fire. You were tired of him getting the best of you, making you flustered. You wanted to fight back.
Turning back to him with the ice pack, you stared at him directly.
“Show me,” you challenged.
Jamie’s face held an incredulous expression.
“You mentioned it— you clearly want to,” you reasoned, shrugging your shoulders, “So show me.” 
You hoped your confidence in calling his bluff worked in your favor, and his face showed that he was clearly surprised by this turn of events. You couldn’t tell what he would do next. He rolled his eyes with that smug smirk on his face before he raised his eyebrows and lifted his shirt up. 
Sure enough, his chest was bare, showing off his sculpted muscles.
Jamie leisurely lounged across the treatment table, chest exposed, and you would be lying if you said your mouth didn’t water a little bit at the sight. Even after being around athletes on a daily basis, there was something about Jamie that just— hit different. His cockiness was surely annoying, but it was also incredibly arousing, as much as you hated to admit it. You felt a squeeze in your chest but you bit your tongue to keep yourself in line. There was no way that thought would ever bear fruit.
You shoved the ice pack into his lap, making sure some of it landed on the bare skin of his stomach, watching as he flinched a little bit at the abrupt action and cold temperature of the pack.
“Ice your ankle for twenty minutes, then stay off it the rest of the day,” you informed him, acting like the last few moments hadn’t happened. “You’ll be good to train tomorrow.”
Jamie scoffed at your indifference. He grasped the ice pack fully and let his shirt slide back down. 
“Sure, love, I’ll do that.” 
He knew you hated it when he called you by a pet name. That only made him use them more. You glanced back at him, staring into his eyes for a moment before you grabbed your bag. 
The tension in the room was palpable before you’d headed out to check on the rest of the players at training. You hadn’t said anything else as you’d left.
So, yeah. There was no way Jamie Tartt would ever let you hear the end of it if you showed up in his jersey number. 
“Oh, come on!” Laney pleaded. “I don’t want to wear a jersey alone.”
“Plenty of people do!”
“Yeah, but plenty of people don’t get to go behind the scenes and actually speak to the players,” she gushed. “I don’t want to meet them and look stupid all alone.”
“So instead, you want me to look stupid with you,” you gave her a flat look.
She smiled mischievously. “What? I thought it would be funny. You complain about him all the time.”
If only she fully comprehended the validity behind your complaints.
You knew there was no way you were ever going to win this fight, so you slipped on the jersey and braced for impact. You were happy to have Laney come along to a game, especially since you didn’t always attend matches and her being a big Richmond fan gave you an excuse to watch. You wanted today to be good, not just for you, but for her too. It was exciting to be able to take your best friend on a little ‘backstage’ tour during gameday. 
You hoped today would be good, and that you wouldn’t have any run-ins with the man who made your blood boil.
Alas, not even twenty minutes later, as you walked into the back of the Nelson Road stadium through the employee entrance, you promptly ran into none other than Jamie Tartt.
“Well well well, I didn’t realize someone was such a big fan,” the familiar Mancunian accent taunted behind you. 
You tried not to visibly cringe as you turned around to face Jamie. He was not yet in his kit, still wearing his street clothes: a monochrome denim set. It was frankly unfair how well the jeans fit him, but you refused to let your gaze linger for more than a few seconds. 
“Oh my, it's the infamous Jamie Tartt,” Laney greeted him playfully. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Your jaw clenched at her words as she reached out to shake his hand. He eagerly accepted.
“Have you?” he asked with a mischievous look in your direction that made you roll your eyes.
Laney nodded emphatically. “She talks about you all the time.”
You nudged her shoulder to get her to stop talking but she just looked at you innocently. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it seemed like Jamie did too.
“Oh, does she?” Jamie questioned. 
He was eating this up. His face was smug and you were sure this would haunt you for weeks to come. 
“Laney, why don’t you go get some snacks? Shouldn’t be a line since we are here a bit early. I’ve got to talk to Jamie before the match,” you said. “I’ll meet you at our seats?”
You smiled sweetly at her, but underneath the nice layer, you knew your eyes held an anger that had her quickly waving goodbye and scurrying off. You were more than happy to have her accompany you to a match, but this entire interaction was reminding you of why you hadn’t invited her sooner.
For a moment, you just stared at him. It was hard to look him directly in the eye sometimes. Despite the headstrong front you kept up, you weren’t used to dealing with such interactions. You weren't stupid, you knew that this dance you two engaged in fell close to flirting (at least that’s what Laney said), and when you looked directly at him, you remembered just how fucking hot he was.
It wasn't just his physical attributes. Sure, he was in excellent physical shape, and his hair looked particularly perfect ever since he started going a bit blond, and his lips were always in a little pout, just begging to be kissed. But it was also a little more than that. Seeing him step up to lead as they began Total Football, working as a team player while also getting in extra workouts to be the best he could be. You weren't blind. You could see his internal changes on the outside, somehow. He didn't seem as cold. He didn't seem as distant and prickish. Jamie’s change in demeanor changed how everyone saw him including himself.
And he seemed to look even hotter than he used to.
Was it possible for someone to just keep getting more and more attractive?
It was part of the reason he drove you up the wall. How did he so perfectly remain just a little bit of a prick while also being a better person? And why did he have to look so pretty while doing it? 
More and more people were making their way through the hallway as the dog track got ready for the match, and Jamie still stood in the middle, with an innocent, questioning look directed towards you.
You huffed before you grabbed his arm and shoved him into the treatment room. Even if he was acting oblivious to spectators, you didn’t want to put on a show when you once again ripped him a new one. 
His face was still prickish as you turned to look at him. He was clearly enjoying this much more than you were. 
“So you talk about me when I ain’t around, love?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No, I don’t,” you said firmly. “And don’t call me ‘love.’”
He pursed his lips, “Seems like you do… love.”
He smiled cheekily at you and it took everything in you not to roll your eyes at him. Instead, you crossed your arms and put on what you hoped was your most serious face.
“I talk about everybody,” you defended, but he clearly wasn’t listening.
“Hmmm, and what do you say about me?” Jamie scratched his chin to mock being in deep concentration. 
“Mostly, I tell people you’re a pain in my ass.”
The statement seemed to shock Jamie out of his act and he narrowed his eyes at you. You knew it wasn’t the best idea to have a sparring match with a footballer right before a game. They were pent up with nerves and adrenaline as they prepared. 
After a moment of no response, you expected the conversation to be over and began to move toward the door, when he finally spoke up.
“Bend over, I’ll show you a pain in the ass.”
Now you’re the one who’s speechless. You let out a breathless laugh of shock, before rolling your eyes. You continued on your way to the door, moving to leave him in the room alone. Just as you go past him, he playfully smacks your ass. Before you have a chance to even choose your reaction, you let out what can only be described as a whimper mixed with a moan. 
You whirl around to look at him, and you both seem to be shocked by the noise. You can tell your face is burning with embarrassment as you stare at each other in a momentary state of shock. 
He recovers first, letting out a breath of a laugh. A smirk dances across his face.
“Liked that, did you?” he taunted.
You clearly didn’t recover as quickly, your reply coming out weaker than you’d like. “Shut up, Tartt.”
He stepped a little closer to you, and you stepped back instinctively, before you ran into the table set up next to the door. 
“I liked hearin’ it,” he said, his voice coming out like a rough whisper.
It all happened so fast. One moment you were barely processing how close the two of you were. Making direct eye contact, breathing the same air. In the next moment, you had spun around, shoving your own pants down around your knees as you heard him unzipping his jeans. He gripped your waist as he spanked you again, and you didn’t even try to suppress the moan that left your lips. 
He slid his dick in easily, and you were surprised at how wet you’d become from simply arguing with the man. He held you against his chest as he thrust into you, pressing a messy kiss to your neck, sucking slightly. Part of you was worried about him leaving a mark, but the thought was pushed to the back of your mind as he continued his journey along your neck. He raised your knee higher to rest against the table for a better position, and you groaned in unison as he thrust deeper inside you. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, leaning against him.
“You wanted this real bad, huh, angel?” he asked.
You nearly wept at the pet name. You made a noise of protest, but your voice came out near breathless from the intensity of it all. You felt like your knees would buckle from the sensation, so you gripped the table in an attempt to not fall.
“Fuck you— you wanted it more,” you defended, but just as you spoke, he hit deep inside you and left the end of your sentence turning to mush as you moaned.
The table wasn’t enough to grab onto, so you reached back and started to grip the strands of his hair. He groaned directly into your ear, and you felt your knees nearly give out entirely.
“Damn, you look so pretty with my name on your back and my dick inside you,” he mumbled as he ran his hand up to grip at your throat. The action wasn’t gentle, but the pressure was perfect.
You’d almost forgotten you were wearing his name across the back of your jersey. Of course he would think it was hot.
It surprised you when you realized you found it kind of hot too.
“Don’t get used to it,” you warned, “This isn’t happening again.”
Your harsh words felt like they had no meaning as you bucked against him. His own hips rose up to meet your own. Truth be told, you were getting your shit rocked and were already wondering when you could fuck him again. You felt your brain short circuiting. Your breaths were shallow as he moved his hand up to your mouth.
You bit his hand out of frustration, making him hiss and thrust his hips faster. He shoved his fingers into your mouth and you sucked instinctively, causing him to whine. 
“Jamie,” you gasped around his fingers, “I-I’m close.”
“Me too, love,” he panted in reply. You didn’t have it in you to correct him over the pet name, overcome with the sensations coursing through your body. 
He removed his fingers from your mouth and snaked his hand down your body to find your clit, adding extra pressure. He knows just the right way to move his fingers that has you falling apart in mere moments.
When you come, he turns your head to plant a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips as you both find your release. You find yourself kissing him back intensely, chasing his lips once he finally pulls away.
Your knees are weak at this point, fully leaning against him for support once he finally slips out of you and pulls his jeans back up. Before he has a chance to say anything between breaths, you reach for a towel off the shelves above you and clean yourself off.
You’re still out of breath as you finally look over at him. His face is shiny with sweat and you fear you look the same. You’ll have to stop by the restroom before you meet back up with Laney. 
Laney. 
The thought of your friend has you glancing at the clock on the wall, cursing yourself. Everything starts to come into clear view, and you wonder how you let things go this far. You just fucked Jamie Tartt. How the hell did that just happen?
You press your lips in a firm line. You try to keep your hands from visibly shaking.
“This is never happening again,” you tell him again, as you reach for the door handle to exit. 
As you open the door, Jamie scoffs.
“Sure, love,” he says, sauntering through the door that you opened, “I’ll see you after the match.” 
He leaves you with a wink before heading off to get ready for the match. If you thought he would be unbearable about the jersey, you had just made the entire situation so much worse. 
You weren’t sure how long you stood in the treatment room before you finally left as well.
550 notes · View notes