just so you can find what i've written! thank you for reading <3
• richmond's receptionist; jamie tartt x reader [COMPLETE]
summary: you're the receptionist at AFC Richmond and are given a task which brings you face to face with the players. and slowly but surely, you form a close bond with star striker jamie tartt
— part 1.
— part 2.
— part 3.
— epilogue.
• run the world; jamie tart x femfootballer!reader series, enemies to fwb to lovers
summary: as the striker for AFC Richmond's very first women's team, the pressure is on. you're desperate to bond with the men's team, and need to up your game. so when your captains make you and Jamie train together, you find special ways to make it fun for both of you.
— part 1.
— part 2.
— part 3.
— part 4. [coming soon!]
• requests; [i'm taking imagine & blurb requests! send me anything i don't care!! any ted lasso characters!!!]
i need the next chapter of run the world and i need it noooooow!!!! (pretty please 🥺🙏) xxxxx
i've been working on it every day i promise it will be with you ASAP!!!! thank you so much for reading it i'm so glad you're enjoying it -- i'm LOVING writing it <333 p.s. next chapter is gonna be smuttyyyyyyyy
jsut commented on your last fic but just still wanted to say how amazing you are! like you proper portray the anger so well that I started to get pissed off and your other stories have been spectacular as well I'm such a fan
this is so so so kind thank you so much for taking the time to send me this it actually means the world to me omg <33 thank you so much for reading SENDING U SO MUCH LOVE <333333
pairings: Jamie Tartt x reader, a bit of Sam Obisanya x reader
summary: your first two weeks of training with Jamie result in red-hot tension. when insults are no longer enough of an outlet, things turn physical.
words: 8.4k
warnings: alcohol/intoxication, arguing, lowkey panic attack, gets steamy at the end but no smut (yet) ;)
———
Jamie's leaning against his car casually, the hood of his blue hoodie pulled over his head and tied tightly with the strings. Unlike his usual abstract fashion sense, he's wearing dark, loose joggers and trainers. You stare a little bit longer, quite enjoying the view, until you realise you have no idea why he's unexpectedly at your house again.
Reaching up, you unlatch your window, pushing it open and leaning over the windowsill. "Good morning boys," you call down to them, interrupting their conversation. They both look around, looking for where your voice came from, "Up here." you say flatly, waving an unenthusiastic hand.
"Good morning!" Isaac chirps, genuinely in a good mood.
"Nice hair." Jamie says with a smirk on his face, and you curse to yourself as you duck out of the window quickly. You glance at the mirror next to your bed, seeing yesterday's messy bun hanging on for dear life as your hair has folded in on itself in your sleep, making it even messier. you tug the hair tie out of it, leaving your hair down and wild as you appear back in the window.
"What's this prick doing here?" you ask Isaac, and a sudden shiver runs over your body as the cold really starts to bite you.
"He's giving us a lift to work," Isaac replies.
"Why?" you snap.
“Because he's being a nice person." Isaac snaps back, holding his hands out beside him.
"Yeah, so hurry up, woman, don't make me late." Jamie snaps as he dismisses you with a wave of his hand. Slamming the window shut, you move quickly between your room and the bathroom, getting ready as fast you possibly can. You decide to leave your hair down on your way to training, a new choice since you normally always have your hair tied up. Dressed in simple yoga leggings and a hoodie, you grab your phone and rush down stairs and grab your gym bag.
Gia has now joined Isaac and Jamie at the latter's car as they all chat. Jamie faces you, still leaning against the side of his fancy car, whilst the other two stand in front of him with their backs to you. You let your eyes rake over Jamie properly this time, stunned by how good he manages to look in such a low-effort outfit. The bagginess contrasts his usually too-tight jeans and tops, and you quite enjoy knowing the muscles are still underneath his clothes without seeing them almost ripping their seams. When the door clicks closed behind you, Jamie's eyes flick away from your friends, landing on you. He blinks a few times, tipping his head back slightly as he drags his eyes down your frame before coming back up to your face.
Jamie is well aware you're watching him stare, but he makes no effort to tear his eyes away. Gia and Isaac don't notice, continuing whatever explanation they're giving Jamie, but he's definitely not listening. It feels like time is moving in slow motion as you stare at each other. His fingers come up to untie the string of his hood, and you see his jaw clench as his neck becomes visible. Waiting for his next move, you're in a bit of a daze, not once breaking eye contact with him, even when he stuffs his hands into the pocket at the front of his light blue hoodie. Jamie licks his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth, and your head tilts down slightly as your eyes focus on the movement. He lifts his lips into a smirk, the change in expression making you quickly look back up at his eyes.
"Nice hair," he finally speaks, his tone more genuine than mocking like it was when you were in the window. His comment pulls Isaac and Gia out of their conversation, turning to see you standing on your front step, bag over your shoulder. "Oh, finally. Let's go! We have to get breakfast at the club." Despite the small smile creeping up your face, you roll your eyes, pushing at the wooden door to make sure it's locked before walking towards the car. You walk right up to Jamie, looking up at him with your head cocked to the side; "Thank you, Jamie. Nice hoodie."
Giving you a tight-lipped smile, he mirrors your tilted head, letting his eyes flick down to your lips. But he's quick to dart his eyes back up to yours, his pupils completely dilating. Smiling at the reflex, you furrow your brows teasingly, wanting to tease him as he pushes himself off the car and steps aside to pull open his door. But instead you say: "Wait," hand involuntarily reaching out and wrapping around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. You gulp nervously, dropping the touch almost as quickly as you initiated it, before sighing; "I just want to say sorry for what I said yesterday. I didn't mean it."
He leans down, holding his cheek right beside yours as he hoarsely whispers; "That's alright, darlin'. You'll find a way to make it up to me."
The sound hits you right between your legs, and all you can do is dive into the backseat of the car. Squeezed in behind the driver's seat, your face is hidden behind your massive gym bag. And you're grateful for it, not brave enough to face Jamie in the rearview mirror. You settle your gaze out the window, a stubborn pout on your lips remaining there during the whole drive, desperately trying to slow your heart rate.
When the car finally pulls into AFC Richmond's car park, you're the last to get out. Gia and Isaac rushed inside to see your coaches, leaving you and Jamie behind.
"Coach duties, I guess," you mutter as you watch them race into the training center, saying it more to yourself than to Jamie. He has one hand resting on the roof of his car and the other reaching out towards you. With a grimace plastered on your face, you look up at him with an eyebrow raised, puzzled by his gesture; "What?" you snap.
"So much for feminism," Jamie groans, rolling his eyes and sighing before jutting his hand closer to you like he's a child trying to show you a snail on his hand. You dart back, shaking your head at him with confusion and disgust on your face. Dropping his head forward with another sigh, he drops his hand for a moment, smacking it against his leg.
"Your bag," he says, clearly irritated, before bringing his hand out again, "Can I carry your bag in for ya?"
"What the fuck?" you cackle loudly, attracting the attention of other staff members making their way into the building. Jamie lifts his hand to give them a curt wave, sending them an awkward smile. As you clutch your stomach with laughter, you turn away from Jamie, walking towards the entrance.
"What?" he whines, following close in your step, "I'm being serious! I'm trynna be nice here."
"Jamie, since when is it feminist to assume a lady needs her bag carried?" you push through the doors, smiling to yourself, knowing you're driving him nuts.
Glancing back at him, you see him walking with his shoulder slumped, a bewildered look on his face; "I'm so confused," his words are surprisingly genuine, no more bitter edge to his tone.
"Jamie," you smile at him, stopping in the middle of the hallway to face him, "I'm just fucking with you. But, no. Over my dead body will I ever let you touch my stuff." you continue walking, speeding up your pace as you approach the staircase which leads to the women's locker room.
"You say that, y/n, but I was literally on your couch last night so..."
With your back still turned to him, you hold your tongue, simply rolling your eyes as you choose not to bite back.
"Woah, Jamie, you went home with her last night?" is the last thing you hear someone say before sprinting up the stairs, again, ignoring it. Whatever Jamie replies to that question will only make you angry, so you decide to be the bigger person by tuning it out.
As you make your way down the hallway with the fake grass-covered ground, you bump into Roy. Your eyes lighten up at the sight of him, raising a hand to wave at him, but when you see his smile turn smug, you drop your arm. Your cheeks go hot as you remember the words you two parted with yesterday, and your wide smile shrinks into a polite, tight-lipped one.
"How was your shit?"
You sigh, ignoring his question and looking at him with stern eyes; "Do you think I should train with Jamie?" Roy fills his cheeks with air before blowing out slowly, extremely slowly. He stares down the hallway for so long that you glance over your shoulder to make sure there's not a ghost standing there.
"Roy, I'm going to be late to training if-" you whisper, but he's quick to interrupt you.
"Yes."
"Yeah? Really?"
"Yes."
"Why?" you challenge his deadpan answers, crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow at him.
Taking a deep breath in through his nose, you're actually quite nervous for his answer. You're well aware he and Jamie haven't always been the best of friends, and Isaac's told you all about their old rivalry, but you also know they've somehow managed to move on from that by now.
"Because..." he starts, dragging the word out in a growl, "As much as I hate to say this, I think he needs real competition with someone in order to be good at the game."
"Why do I have to be that competition? Can't you just use someone from his own team,"
"Sadly, I can't personally fight him, and he's too much of a team player with the boys now."
"So I'm gonna be his fucking punching bag just so you guys can score more goals?" You suddenly start getting warm, and not in the nice way. "Gia said this would somehow help her as our captain but now you're saying I'm basically just doing Jamie Tartt a favour," you continue.
"Not entirely," Roy breathes out, staring at you with a look of hope, "First of all, Ted's made Jamie all nice by giving him a second chance, so he's not as intense on the field as he used to be. Sometimes we need him to be a prick, just not to his own teammates. So, after seeing you guys rile each other up at training yesterday I thought it would be a good idea to have you bring back that fire in him."
With a stubborn pout, you stare up at Roy while he speaks, completely bewildered by his explanation. You consider protesting, but since this is probably the most consecutive words he's ever said to you, you let him finish.
"And second, Gia thinks you might need the same kind of thing," he stutters through his statement, clearly wary of your response. But when he sees your unwavering expression, he continues; "I mean, I do see where she's coming from. She wants you to enjoy football again, and she knows you have fun with the more aggressive side of it,"
"Fun... fuck's sake," you mumble to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose.
Roy ignores your interjection; "Y/n, I think in asking you to do her a favour, Gia is also doing you one. She wants you to play the best you can, and you want her to succeed the best she can. Don't even think about Tartt in all of this, he'll be just fine without or without you."
You chew the inside of your cheeks, staring up at Roy with a complete lack of emotion. your mind, however, is running on high, and you feel like an overheating motor as you mull over his points. You want to ask what Jamie thinks about this whole idea, but you decide against it; this isn't for Jamie, this is for Gia. You want her to be the best captain she can be, and you want to be the best footballer you can be. You know your passion has worn off with the stress of playing for Richmond, and as much as you don't want to agree that this will help you, you know they're right. You know very well that you need this as much as Gia needs you, and you hate to think of having to leave the team just because you couldn't do your best on the pitch. The deep need for football has dissipated over the years, but your want for it has returned.
"Fine."
And that one word is the reason you are on Richmond's training pitch again, trailing behind Roy and Jamie as you follow them away from the rest of the team. You take this as an ideal opportunity to look Jamie up and down, knowing you'd get caught if you do it at any other time today. His hands are wrapped in the front of shirt, pulling the fabric slightly higher on his back. A bit of skin peeks out from underneath, and sadly, his summer tan is fading. His navy shorts cling tightly to his form, the stretchy fabric pulled taut over his ass and riding up his thighs as he walks. What a slag. He knows he looks good -- calf muscles straining with every step, and you have to shake your head to get rid of the amused smile creeping up your face.
Jamie must feel your eyes on his back, because he turns his head to look at you, making you shoot your gaze to the sky and pretend to be very interested in the few clouds above you. "Hurry up, you." he teases with a some sweetness to his voice, rather than the usual cocky snark. The unfamiliar tone has you obliging with a smile, jogging up to meet him and Roy.
"Stretch." Your coach instructs, and you do exactly what you're told without even glancing at the man next to you. You lunge, bend, and bounce as you feel your muscles loosen. The grass is still dewy and wet from the morning mist beneath your exposed thighs as you sit on the ground and you can feel your shorts dampen beneath you as you bend forward, folding your torso over your outstretched legs. The feeling of Jamie's eyes on you is overpowering, making you subconsciously rush through some of the movements. Maybe this is his opportunity to shamelessly stare at you, but with the way it's making your face hot you don't actually want him to stop, appreciating the warmth in the crisp air.
Roy works the two of you to the bone, making you run the entire length of the pitch a dozen times before having you doing the same kicking drills over and over. And of course the captains were right; being paired with Jamie is giving you that extra push of competitiveness you've been missing, and it seems to be doing the same to Jamie. Between all the offensive remarks and nicknames you throw at each other, you both do always take the time to compliment each other on the particularly impressive skills you pull off. Your competitive camaraderie does not go unnoticed by Roy, who continues to up the ante every time he senses one of you getting fed up with the other.
After a round of broncos to top off your fast-speed exercises, Roy shouts "Whistle!", finally allowing you and Jamie a break.
You collapse in the grass the second you hear his call, spreading into a starfish position on your back. Jamie follows suit, dropping onto his front in a similar shape. Lifting your hands to cover your face, you try to steady your heart rate and slow down your heavy breathing. The focus on your body silences your mind, and you can't hear anything except for the blood rushing through your veins.
There's a light tickle on your right leg, blades of grass brushing your skin, and you assume its an ant or spider which managed to make its way through the lawn. However, when you feel the tickle continue in a steady rhythm, you move your hands to your chest and tilt your head to the side to look down at your leg. Without lifting your head, you can see it's actually due to Jamie, whose deep breaths are blowing the green grass against your skin.
His hands lay limp next to him, and his deep blue eyes are hidden behind his lids as he attempts to calm his body the same way you are. Somehow, his body has landed a mere few inches from yours, and the heat radiating off of both of you should be overwhelming, but instead, it's actually deeply comforting. The ground beneath you is cool and soft, and Jamie's body beside you is warm and hard, tempting you to reach out and brush his skin the same way his breath fans yours.
The open palms of his hand is begging you to take it -- he's so close you could graze your fingers against his and he probably wouldn't even notice. While his eyes are still closed, you take your time to admire the sheen across his forehead, a strand of bleached hair sticking to his sweaty skin. His training top clings to his body, having rode up the same way it had before, and this time even more of his back is exposed. There's a dip down the middle of his spine, leading your eyes to the band of his boxers peeking over the waistband of his tiny shorts.
"Y/n?" Jamie sighs out your name.
"Mhm?" you hum back.
"Why are you staring at me? Do I have mud on my arse or somethin'?"
Jamie's words cause you to lift your head properly now, stretching your arms behind you and leaning back on your elbows. How did he know?
"What? I wasn't staring at you."
"Don't play dumb."
His words make you scoff and get defensive, despite being true; "I'm not playing dumb!"
"Yeah you are. I know you was staring at me... at my bangin' bod."
He has yet to open his eyes to look at you, but his words alone manage to bring a smile to your sweaty face as you accept defeat. A teasing smirk sits comfortably on his face, and you can't help but wonder what this man's actually genuine smile looks like. You can only imagine the way his eyes would crinkle, or maybe he's one of those people that scrunches their nose or bites their tongue.
"I wasn't staring at you..." you mumble, tipping your head back to take in the autumn sun. Hoping his eyes are still closed, you take the opportunity to move your right leg ever so slightly closer to Jamie's face, hoping it replaces your urge to touch his hand. Her doesn't seem to take any notice to your closer proximity, instead continuing to lay in your comfortable silence. You welcome the sun's heat as your body begins cooling down, but the entire right side of your body still feels wired and full of static. It feels illegal to be this close to Jamie in such a gentle moment, and it's almost wrong not to be touching him with such a proximity.
Suddenly, your face is cast in a dark shadow, forcing you to open your eyes. Roy towers over your sprawled out frame, arms crossed as he looks down at you and Jamie. "You two," he starts, grabbing Jamie's attention. He opens his eyes and turns onto his back, creating an unwelcomed distance between the two of you. You want nothing more but to reach out and pull him close again -- not even to touch him, but just to feel him there. "You both get a one hour break before we start divided training again. Well done this morning."
You groan and squeeze your eyes shut again, and you can tell Roy starts walking away by the way the sun returns to your face. With your arms out beside you, you wish this moment could last forever. You just want Jamie to roll back onto his stomach and reconnect the current that ran between your closely separated bodies. Did he feel it too?
However, instead of fulfilling your silent wish, you hear him hoist himself up off the ground with a grunt before coming to stand over you the same way Roy just had. Only opening one eye, you look up at him expectantly. You expect him to shoot you some cheap jab, but instead he shamelessly rakes his eyes over your body. Yet he didn't seem to be checking you out, he was simply just looking.
"What's with the sock thing? Why do you wear one down like that?"
"Uh," you say with a shrug. You're surprised he noticed it enough to ask you such a genuine question about it, expecting him to make fun of it. But he seems genuinely intrigued; "I've done it since I was a kid. It's a pressure thing. It just keeps me more aware of the leg I strike with. I don't like the wind getting in the way, y'know?"
"Yeah..." Jamie breathes out as he reaches a hand down to you. His agreement could mean anything, but he doesn't let you linger for long as he says: "I got you." And you're unsure if he means physically, or with your sock thing, or something more.
You slot your thumbs together, finally palm to palm, and you're on your feet before you can even process his touch, Jamie lifting you up with ease. Expecting him to drop your hand, you move your elbow back, but he doesn't let go just yet. Instead, he shifts the hold into a handshake, placing his free hand on your shoulder; "Pleasure doin' business with ya." he says with a goofy smile, and you fail to suppress the small giggle that escapes your mouth.
Jamie doesn't give you the time to think of a joke in return, simply dropping your hand and turning his back to you as he walks away. That bit of his back comes back to haunt you as he lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, and you feel like collapsing all over again.
Digging the toe of your boot into the ground, you're well aware of the deep crimson blush creeping up your cheeks, and you know very well it's because of Jamie, but you still put it down to the exercise.
Training with Jamie feels like walking on a live wire -- he fires you up in all the right ways, and you know it, but that doesn't make it easier to admit out loud. Sure, you enjoyed today's training and the bickering made you want to fight for success, but having him in your home felt completely different. Sitting beside him on your cramped sofa, even though he was actually quite calm, it didn't feel right. So far, the electricity on the pitch has been nothing but exciting, but that's only because it was accompanied by an outlet. Off the pitch, the electricity between you two was more like a gaseous dangerous fuel, ready to explode at any moment. If there isn't something physical involved, your tension simply runs too high.
—
The next day looks practically identical, and so does the one after that, and the one after that... and soon enough, two weeks of mixed -- and Jamie -- trainings have passed.
Jamie's started giving you, Gia, and Isaac a lift to and from work almost every morning. But not without protest from you, of course, who stays completely silent with your noise-cancelling headphones turned up loud for every single car ride. Your name-calling and mean jabbing only got worse with each training with Jamie, and even Roy was struggling to keep up with how intensively you were training together.
Watching him win the drill challenges is almost impossible for you, your head going hot and nostrils flaring every time he rubs it in your face. And somehow, it was even harder to win against him since he's adopted a new catchphrase; "I'm not just a loser. I'm the loser."
The harder the trainings, the less time you spend checking him out and flirting with him during practice, your frustration running so deep you can't even stomach looking at him. His voice haunts you, even in your sleep, his thick accent coating his vicious digs playing on a continuous loop. Sure, your cortisol has never been higher, but your game has also never been better.
Now two weeks and two days into your updated training schedule, your priority is still the same: ignoring Jamie as much as possible. But it's not easy.
You're the first to finish the warmup lap around the pitch, folding your arms on top of your head as you bring your panting back to breathing. Will hands you your personalised Richmond water bottle with nothing but a polite smile. "Cheers, Will. Appreciate it." you reply before bringing the bottle to your mouth and popping it open with your teeth. As you chug down the cold water, you look around, seeing who's managed to catch up with you already. To much dismay but no surprise, Jamie is the second to arrive at the drinks table.
"Y/n," he says curtly, nodding at you with absolutely no emotion in his voice. But when he turns towards your kit man, he's all chat; "Mornin' Will! How's your mum doin'?" He takes his bottle from Will. "Good morning, Jamie. She's very well, thanks for asking." What the fuck?
"Y/n!" you hear a cheery voice behind you, and when you turn you spot Sam jogging towards you. Will effortlessly tosses him his water bottle and he thanks him with a bright smile.
"Good morning, Sam!" you say, beaming up at him. Sam squints one eye shut as he tilts his head towards the morning sun while drinking from his bottle, and you can't help but stare. He's practically glowing in the sunlight, positivity and joy radiating off him. Sam is irresistibly cute, and when he lowers the bottle from his mouth, the smile which emerges is blinding.
That's when you realise you hadn't looked away from him even once since he walked over. And quite frankly, you don't want to. So you continue to stare, shamelessly, allowing you to catch his eyes darting down to your lips, the movement so quick and subtle you fear you may have imagined it. You let yourself do to the same thing, flicking your eyes to his full lips, and you feel your cheeks start to blush.
"Why are you so red, y/n?" Jamie pipes up as he suddenly appears beside you and Sam, looking between the two of you. Your smile drops as quickly as it appeared, and both you and Sam dramatically roll your eyes.
"Fuck off, Jamie" you say, keeping your eyes on Sam's and changing the topic of conversation; "How are you today, Sam?"
"I'm great! What about you?" Sam replies sweetly.
"I'm doing amazing, thanks for asking!" Jamie interjects with a sarcastic, high-pitched voice. You take a deep, shaky breath, not wanting to lose your temper before the training has even started.
Without even looking at him, you reach your hand up to Jamie's chest and push him away, all while replying to Sam; "I'm good... it's been an unexpected but fun morning so far."
"Oh, fun-" Sam starts, but Jamie interrupts him again.
"We did have a fun morning! didn't we, y/n?"
With another sigh, and your palm still pressed against his rock hard pec, you finally drop your Sam-fueled smile and turn towards him; "Jamie, please."
"What, love?" he acts oblivious.
"Sam, just ignore him. Jamie gives me lifts into work and it's never actually that fun, trust me."
Sam forces a small laugh in response, successfully ignoring Jamie's presence by keeping his eyes on yours.
"Look, y/n, I was wondering..." Sam starts, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and diverting you away from the gobby shite beside you. "I was wondering if you'd like to go for dinner with me tonight?" Sam's words are smooth and confident, but not cocky, and his sugary tone makes your wide grin close into a shy smile. As you look up at him, you squint your eyes under the morning sun, hoping it looks somewhat cute rather than ugly; "I would love to, Sam."
"You'd love to what?" Isaac enters the conversation now, and you wonder if you and Sam will ever get the chance to talk without someone interrupting.
"I asked y/n to dinner this evening," Sam beams proudly, "Well, I asked her on a date," he looks at you and winks, and you subconsciously pull your bottom lip between your teeth.
"No."
Your flirtatious expression falls immediately upon hearing Isaac's simple statement, and Sam's face does the same.
"No?" you both ask in unison. "Why not?" you whine.
"Because you need to focus on training," he unwraps his arms to point behind you, "with him."
You and Sam turn around and follow Isaac's point, your eyes landing on a zoned-out Jamie standing on the other side of the large group of players, chewing on the nozzle of his water bottle.
As you turn back to Isaac, you throw your hands up onto your hips; "Surely that's not going to affect my evening plans?"
Isaac rolls his eyes and turns away from you; "A no is a no." he says as he walks back towards Ted and Gia. You let out a loud groan, dropping your head back and looking up to the sky, hands fidgeting with the lid of your water bottle.
"I'm sorry, Sam." you say as you lift your head again, taking one hand off your bottle and letting your palm graze Sam's elbow, the gentle touch bringing a smile back to his face as he glances down.
"That's okay. If it's meant to be, it will be." Sam winks at you.
As if on cue, Roy shouts "Whistle!", gaining the attention of you and all the players around you. Everyone crowds closer, giving you the chance to glance back at Jamie, his mindless stare replaced by his fixed gaze on you. When your eyes meet his, he doesn't tear them away, flashing you a cocky grin before turning towards the coaches. You tsk to yourself, looking down at your boots with a shake of your head.
Fucking Jamie fucking Tartt.
For the rest of the day, the anger continues to brim inside you. Even Jamie is surprised by your heightened aggression as you tackle him in drills which don't even ask for it, and as much as teases you about your aggression, you don't tell him about Sam asking you on a date. On the one hand, you know that if you tell Jamie, he'll spend all day giving you and Sam shit for it. But on the other, something inside you wants to keep it a secret so you can continue to feel the burn of Jamie's eyes on your body every time you stretch in front of him.
That same burn scorches you as you leave the training centre, walking out to see Jamie leaning against his fancy car the same way he did the first morning he picked you up. He's wearing the same blue hoodie as that day, hands stuffed in his pockets while he keeps his eyes fixed on his pristine white trainers. Sensing your presence, he lifts his head and instantly directs his gaze towards you, raking his eyes from your shoes all the way up to your face as slow as possible. As you approach him, his neutral expression changes to yet another bold smirk, tilting his head back when his finally then land on yours. Everything feels like it's going in slow motion, suddenly feeling very aware of how you're moving under Jamie's careful stare. And once you finish the seemingly endless stretch to the car, you stop right in front of Jamie, sending him a challenging look.
"Can we go?" you turn towards Gia and Isaac as they approach you two, "The sooner we get home, the sooner I can say bye to this twat."
—
"Alright then, I'll be off." Jamie says as he you all clamber out of the car. You duck down in the open door of the passenger side, eyes meeting his deep blue ones, but you don't say anything. No 'goodbye', no 'see you tomorrow', not even a 'thank you'. Until, of course, Gia pipes up.
"Jamie! Why don't you stay for dinner? I'm making lasagna!"
"Yeah bruv, join us." Isaac adds, making his way towards you and Gia's front door.
Jamie's eyes don't leave yours as he blinks a few times, clearly trying to read your response to the offer but you just stare back at him with no emotion. On the inside, you're screaming at him and begging him to say no, but you continue biting your tongue.
"Eh..." his brows scrunch in confusion as he holds your gaze, amusement eventually flickering in his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I'll stay! Thanks so much."
His words are met with an eye roll from you, making him mirror the motion right back at you before you slam the door shut a bit too hard for how expensive the car looks.
Rushing inside, you drop your gym bag at the bottom of the stairs and slip your runners off, quickly joining Gia and Isaac in the kitchen as you swipe a brand new bottle of wine out of the fridge and placing it on the kitchen island. The frustration still bubbling through you is made evident to the others by the rattling noise your forceful movements cause when you pull the corkscrew out of the cutlery drawer. Unnecessarily, you stab it into the cork before spinning the top, but it just isn't going in far enough. So you twist, and twist, and twist.
If anyone asks what's going through your mind, you'd refuse to tell, those stupid thoughts about Jamie's bulging muscles on repeat in your brain -- in his stupid skinny jeans at Sam's restaurant, during training in those tiny shorts, and every time he leans against his stupid car. You zone out the flashing images, replaying today in your mind, finally landing on Sam again. He had smiled so sweetly when he asked you out, clearly having carefully planned the suggestion, and you wish you were in his company this evening instead of Jamie's.
"I'm sorry, but what's the difference between this and me going for dinner with Sam?"
As if on cue, Jamie appears at your side; "What?" His voice is smaller than usual, but you ignore it.
"Holy shit! Sam asked you out on a date?" Gia leans her elbows on the kitchen island.
"Yeah, but your boyfriend said no." you spit.
Isaac doesn't turn away from the lasagne he's preparing; "It was in the best interest of the team."
"Sam asked you on a date?" Jamie's small voice again, and the softness of his tone is so unfamiliar it pulls at your heartstrings. But that's not the point of this conversation, so you only answer Isaac: "How?"
Isaac stays silent, and with every second that passes, your blood just continues to boil -- and the stupid corkscrew still isn't working.
"Isaac, what the fuck! You were literally just trying to set me up with him!"
"He was?" Jamie's voice is almost a whisper now.
"Yes, Jamie. Yes he did," you turn to look at him, "He literally made it a whole thing at Ola's two weeks ago. Gia, please tell your boyfriend to stop fucking with my life!"
"Woah, woah, that's a pretty serious accusation!" Gia interjects, "Look, y/n. It's kind of my fault. I told Isaac to make sure you stay focused on your extra training with Jamie."
Nostrils flared, lips pressed tightly together and eyes narrowed, you stare at your best friend in disbelief. The pinch in your nose is familiar but unwelcome as your eyes blur, tears threatening to spill. Your blood rushes through your ears, head going hot as you stay completely still. No words come to you, only feelings of anger and betrayal. You get Gia wants you to play better, but forcing you to blow off Sam in order to spend even more time with Jamie? That's just too far, even for the love of the game. How is that supposed to make things fun?
Jamie steps closer to you, reaching a hand out to pull the wine bottle away from you; "Here, let me-"
"I've got it!" you snap at him, your tone coming out harsher than you intended.
"Alright then, love." Jamie mutters, no longer sounding meek. He puts his hands up in surrender while he turns away from you. Dropping your fists on the marble counter, you finally let out the groan you've been holding back all day, earning Jamie's attention as he turns his head back to look at you with a confused expression.
"Stop calling me love."
For once, Jamie's not the only source of your frustration, so it isn't entirely fair to let it all out on him. But it's too late to drop it now -- you're going to have to deal with whatever he's about to say.
"Listen, love," Jamie's voice drops to a low husk as he steps closer to you, leaning down to look you dead in the face. He stops when his face is only an inch from yours, making your eyes jump side to side to maintain eye contact with him. Despite having seen him dripping in sweat earlier, he now smells like clean laundry, a dash of lavender lingering on his skin. It's different from the cologne he usually wears, but the soft fresh smell is welcomed by your senses as you fight the urge to lean even closer towards his warm body.
"We were both forced into this training plan, so don't go thinking you're the only one with a grudge here. Do you really think I wanna spend every day trotting around with some lass who thinks she's better than me just because she's a star rookie in the headlines? You can think again."
Jaw clenched, you blink up at him, nostrils flaring as you hold back both screams and tears. His words sting, but the punch to your gut reminds you that he's right -- neither of you want to do this. You're not the only one who gets to be stubborn and angry. You're not the only one whose evening plans are ruined because of this training plan. And you're also not the only whose game is actually benefitting from this. But you can't let him know you agree, so you put on your bravest face, eyes narrowing as you stand up straight.
"I don't think I'm better than you, Jamie. I know I am. You're just a washed up prick who's jealous he isn't the only one in the press anymore. I knew all that talk about the team making you look good was bullshit!"
Jamie's eyebrows furrow as he cocks his head to the side, expression quickly morphing from frustration to amused confusion; "Hang on... isn't that what I said at that press conference a few weeks ago?"
Your stern features drop too, eyes widening at the realisation of what you've just said. Desperately thinking of a way to recover, your mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. Jamie's arrogant smirk returns, confidence clear in his change of demeanor. He takes in a breath, clearly loading up some snarky response, but he doesn't get the chance. You attempt to escape this hellish situation, moving to push past Jamie and beeline out of this suffocating room.
But you're stopped by the press of a large, warm hand on your ribcage, having walked straight into Jamie's outstretched arm. His grip was gentle, but it's like all the wind has been knocked out of you. Keeping your eyes on the hand on your torso, you muster up all the air you have left in your lungs to growl; "Let me through, Jamie."
"Why? So you can go to your room and watch my press interviews? Under your covers, in secret, like a little girl doing something naughty."
The words hit you like a freight train, knees buckling under your weight. And once again, Jamie's grip keeps you on your feet. The low, teasing lilt in his voice twist your stomach into a complicated knot, pulling together in both anger and arousal. No longer breathless, you're now practically gasping against Jamie's neck.
"Uhm..." Gia's strained voice breaks the awkward silence, a reminder that her and Isaac had indeed just witnessed that entire encounter.
"Gia!" Isaac fakes an innocent tone, "Would you also like some wine? I can grab all of us a glass, and Jamie can open the bottle, and then we can all cheers to how well the new training programme is working!" His ramble is completely uncharacteristic, his voice not even sounding like it's coming from his mouth.
Finally looking up from Jamie's touch, you stare into his eyes. His pupils are blown so wide they almost smother their deep blue colour. He doesn't look angry, or upset, but not cocky either. Shaking your head, you press your mouth into a thin line before pushing against his hand again, successfully breaking past this time and rushing straight up the stairs.
Crashing into your room, you slam the door shut behind you. You quickly walk around your bed, going right to your window, pushing it open. The cold autumn air is welcomed as you throw off your hoodie, every inch of your skin on fire. You pace along the window, fingers chaotically pushing through your messy hair. Puffing through your nose, the tears that brimmed your eyes downstairs have completely dried up, leaving only overwhelm in their place. Your knees buckle again, but this time Jamie isn't there to hold you up, so you slowly lower yourself to the floor, sitting in the breeze of the open window with your back pressed against the side of your bed.
With your knees pulled close to your chest, you rest your forehead on them, hoping that holding yourself in a ball will calm your nervous system down quicker. Screwing your eyes shut, you wish the buzzing in your veins to stop, but to no avail. Desperately, you take deep breath after deep breath, counting each inhale and exhale.
Two minutes in, your heart rate has finally slowed to a normal pace again, and the deep anger has melted down to pure exhaustion. You're no longer seeing red, your mind now calm enough to make sense of everything going on.
Gia and Isaac know what they're doing. If this wasn't working, Roy wouldn't let it continue. And if it wasn't good for the teams, both the women and men wouldn't have won the last two matches as easy as you did. But sadness still pools in your chest at the thought of Sam. It's been a long time since you've let someone in, and he's your safest option. He's deeply kind and so easy to talk to -- if only you were at dinner with him right now.
"Y/n?"
It's Jamie. You lift your head at the sound, voice once again unrecognisably soft. The sound sends goosebumps down your whole body, replacing the awful overheating feeling you've had all day.
"Sorry, eh- I would knock but my hands are full." he continues through the door.
You push yourself back to your feet, pulling the window shut and taking another deep breath. Your body feels weak, sore from all of the training and tired from holding so much anger. You have to trust Gia and Isaac. You have to give Jamie a chance.
And the next thing you know, your hand is twisting the cold doorknob. Opening it slowly, you're met with a coy-looking Jamie, two full wine glasses in hand. Without a word, he sends you a tiny empathetic smile and lifts the glasses up as a peace offering. His smile is sweet and seems genuine -- for once -- so you move aside and let him into your bedroom, hoping he doesn't do anything to tarnish your sacred space.
Heartbeat slightly speeding up, you watch him look around your room, eyes grazing over your perfectly made bed to the neatly organised desk across from it, before landing on the cork bulletin board hanging on the wall above said desk.
"No fucking way..." he whispers, and you can hear his shit-eating grin in his voice. Shit. Fully aware of what he's just spotted, you rush to close the door and step towards him, quickly taking one of the wine glasses from his hands and chugging half of its contents. The liquid runs down your throat with a welcomed burn, and you feel your body instantly rise in temperature again.
"Jamie-" you swallow thickly, the alcohol running through your veins and going straight to your head.
"Y/n y/l/n..." he grumbles, voice as low as it was in the kitchen. His sultry tone goes straight to your legs, turning them to jelly yet again. That coil retwists in your stomach too, and you can feel your face getting hot. The tension between you is so thick you can almost hear the electric hum in the air.
Jamie takes a large gulp of his own wine, fully turning towards you and stepping closer; "Is that me? On your bedroom wall?"
"Oh, don't flatter yourself," you try to give him attitude, but your voice cracks, breath hitching as Jamie stares down at you with dark eyes, "It's just a trading card."
Except he doesn't give up that easily, moving even closer to you. He towers over you, peering down at your face as he lets his eyes examine your features. Shamelessly, they move from your eyes to your forehead, dragging over your cheekbones and down to your jaw. No doubt you're blushing a deep crimson, watching as Jamie drinks you in.
"I came up here to check if you were okay, the last thing I expected to find was a picture of me pointed right at your bed."
"Fuck off. I supported Richmond before I played for them." you groan with rolling eyes, finding just enough of your voice to retort. God, Jamie has a special way of winding you up. His eyes still haven't returned to yours, scanning every inch of your face before reaching a hand up. Your breathing completely halts, stuck in the top of your throat as you await his next move.
His thumb slowly grazes up your hot cheek, sliding into your hair and pushing it behind your ear. Jamie doesn't drop his hand straight away though, letting his pointer finger run behind your ear before trailing along your jaw. Your lips part at the sensual touch, still holding your breath as his eyes continue to avoid yours. The usually charming blue of Jamie's eyes is now replaced by a deep, dark hunger as they move with his finger, eventually landing on your lips. Hooking his pointer finger under your chin, he tilts your head up, the movement bringing the breath back to your lungs. The sound that escapes your mouth alongside it is something between a whimper and a moan, and Jamie's eyelids flutter slightly in reaction. And when his thumb comes up to brush your bottom lip, all sense comes rushing back to you.
Quickly stepping back, Jamie's hand drops from your face. Breathless pants escape your still-parted lips, desperately trying to shake yourself out of the daze caused by the man in front of you. You lift your glass again, chugging what was left in the glass before setting it down on your desk. The buzz of the alcohol paired with the burning sensation Jamie's touch left behind on your skin makes your eyes blur, and after a few rapid blinks, you focus back on Jamie. Copying your movements, he chugs the rest of his wine too, keeping his hungry gaze on you the whole time. His chest rises and falls faster than normal as he brings a hand up to wipe at his lips, pulling your attention to them. As always, they're pouting, but not in the cocky way. Instead, they look soft and plump, tempting you into something you so desperately want but really, really shouldn't reach for.
But for the first time in a long time, you can't stop yourself.
You launch forward, fingers pulling Jamie's hoodie into your fists as you close the gap between you two, crashing your lips on his. Both of your mouths lap at each other hungrily, desperate to get as close as possible. Jamie somehow places his glass down on your desk before planting his hands on your waist. But they don't stay there, chaotically rubbing up your back before roaming down to your ass and squeezing. The thin fabric of your tank top hardly leaves anything between Jamie's touch and your skin, and you want nothing more but for him to rip it off of you. Your body is pressed flat against his, the loud ringing in your ears blocking out any sensible thoughts as you explore each other's mouths with your tongues.
The room is filled with both of your pants as you grab at each other. Your hands roam down his chest and under his Richmond hoodie, moaning as your fingers trace his abs. Jamie splays one large hand across your back while the other stays on your ass, holding you flush against his body as you wrap your arms around his neck again. His pull makes you change your footing, slotting your thigh against his crotch and immediately feeling a bulge against it.
Your eyes shoot open, going wide as you realise what is happening. Pulling your mouth off of Jamie's, you move your hands to his shoulders and nudge him away before darting back from him.
Out of breath from both the kiss and the shock, your jaw goes slack as you stare at an equally-breathless Jamie. You both hold your hands out in front of you, standing completely still.
"Shit." Jamie mutters.
"Fuck." you whisper.
———
thank you for reading and for your patience ily <3
pairings: jamie tartt x reader, whole cast is mentioned
summary: short lil continuation from the series with glimpses into your relationship with Jamie.
words: 3000
warnings: no smut but sexual descriptions & references, nudity
———
your eyes shoot open at the sound of loud banging on the door, flinching at the sound. if the strong warm arms wrapped around you weren't there, you would've shot out of bed. but Jamie's hand holds you tightly at your waist, both arms wrapped all the way around you. he holds your naked torso glued to his, and you wish the knocking away so you could stay right here, head nuzzled into his warm chest, forever.
the early morning sunlight floods in the room, your mind having been too preoccupied with other things to think about closing your curtains last night. the bashing on the door doesn't stop -- in fact, it gets impossibly louder. using a hand to shield your eyes, you use the other to wrestle yourself out of Jamie's grip, nudging him out of the bed to go answer it. as his touch leaves your bare body, the cold bites at your skin, raising goosebumps almost instantly. you collapse back onto your pillow, pulling the duvet over your almost-naked body and shivering beneath it. and at the sound of a deep voice, your ears perk up.
"Keeley told me you'd be here. come on,"
you could recognise Roy's voice immediately, and you let out a dramatic sigh to yourself when you realise why he's at your house. if only Keeley didn't have such good intuition, then Jamie would still be holding you close, lulling you back to sleep with the steady sound of his breathing. instead, you hear him groan loudly, his words to Roy incoherent through the hallway. he retreats to your bedroom, tiptoeing towards your side of the bed before crouching down, lightly brushing his thumb over your cheek. the pad of his finger traces your cheekbone and up to your eyebrow, before pushing a strand of air behind your ear.
"I'm really sorry, love, but I have to go train with Roy." his voice is soft as he whispers, and you realise you've never heard him speak with such tenderness. you wish you could just pull him back into the bed and stay there with him forever, tangled in the sheets with your warm skin pressed against his. instead, you force one eye to open. the second he notices you're awake, he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. digging your hand from beneath your duvet, you reach up to grab his neck, pulling him down harder. this time, you kiss deeper, and you moan at the feeling of his lips on yours again, memories of last night flooding your thoughts.
last night, you'd spent hours pressed against each other, messily grabbing at each other's bodies like two starving animals. the two of you had managed to leave a path of destruction in your wake, with your clothes and the bedsheets strewn across your bedroom. you hadn't realised just how much pent up tension there was between you two, but you definitely got it all out during your first night together -- Jamie definitely lives up to his well-endowed reputation.
when you finally pull away from Jamie's soft plump lips, you clear your throat quietly before taking a deep breath in. you muster up all the voice your hoarse throat would allow, shouting "fuck off Roy!" as loud as you can. the sudden sound makes Jamie jump, covering his ears with his hands as he looks at you in surprise. when you nestle back into the pillow with a peaceful smile, his eyes fill with amusement and warmth, his pupils growing wide. "good girl," he mutters with a grin, before kissing you again, rough and hard. his lips move roughly against yours and you use your hands on his neck as leverage, pulling your naked chest up against his clothed one. Jamie's tongue is pressing hard in your mouth, pulling small grunts and sounds from your throat. as hard as you try to pull him down onto the bed, he's too strong for you, and you end up dropping back on the mattress as he abruptly pulls away and stands up.
"Jamie!" you whine, hands reaching out in a poor attempt to grab at his oversized t-shirt.
"now," he starts, looking down at you as he towers over you, "please tell me you have clothes I can wear."
it's only then that you notice he's only wearing the big t-shirt he'd clearly picked up from your floor. your jaw drops, eyes widening as you take in his Winnie The Pooh inspired look. you start to laugh, sitting up against the headboard of your bed, before your face suddenly drops.
"Jamie..." you say flatly.
"mhm?" his eyebrows raise in question.
"did you open the door like that?"
"yeah," he shrugs like it's nothing.
"Jamie!" you shriek, reaching your hands up to his shoulders and nudging him away from your bed.
"what?" he laughs, playfully stumbling backwards with the force of your push.
"what if that was anyone else?!" you slump in defeat as you gawk at him. silently, he lifts his shoulders casually, as if what he did wasn't extremely risky and extremely naked.
"but..." he says slowly as he steps closer to you again, holding his two hands out for you to take, "it wasn't anyone else. it was just granddad, so..."
placing your hands in his, you sit up on your knees, "this would be so much cuter if I wasn't basically at eye-level with your dick right now,"
with a loud laugh, Jamie pulls you up to stand on the mattress, still holding your hands. he looks up at you through his eyelashes, lowering his voice as he wraps his arms around your hips; "this better?"
"much," you nod with a small smile as you pull his face to yours, both hands placed on each side of this face. when you connect your mouths again, you feel his lips curve into a smile. without pulling away he mumbles against your lips: "Roy's on the couch, by the way,"
"fucks sake, Jamie!" you squeal again, quickly jumping off the bed and picking his discarded button up shirt from the floor. you pull it on, doing up some of the buttons as you walk towards your cupboard. Jamie cackles to himself behind you, and you conceal a smile from him as you bite back a laugh of your own. you bend down to dig through one of your drawers, and Jamie wastes no time to come up behind you and place a palm to your scantily clad backside, brushing himself against it as he pushes past you. rolling your eyes to yourself, you finally stand up again, a pair of old oversized gym shorts in your hands. turning around, you're faced with Jamie sliding on his boxers. ignoring the blush that creeps onto your face, you step towards him, holding out the shorts for him to wear.
"oh God, these aren't your ex's are they?" Jamie pouts.
"gross," you look at him with a disgusted grimace, "no, they're mine for bed- so is that top you're wearing, by the way."
"I figured... it smells grim." he teases, and you slap his bare legs with the shorts before handing them to him. after sharing another laugh, you turn to grab yourself a pair of joggers from your cupboard, hoping they're appropriate enough to wear in front of Roy.
"how do I look?" Jamie asks you, standing at your bedroom door with his arms stretched out.
"a bit like you're wearing someone else's clothes," you state.
"walk of shame kinda look?"
"yes."
"perfect."
laughing loudly, you chase him out of your bedroom and push him towards the bathroom, letting him know there's spare toothbrushes in the cabinet behind the mirror. "yes chef," he says to you as he jogs in, closing the door behind him with a wink. as you turn the corner at the end of the hallway, you're faced with Roy Kent sitting on your sofa.
"Roy!" you say cheerily, as if you didn't just scream at him to fuck off.
"y/n," he politely nods towards you.
"any coffee? or tea? or..." you ask, gesturing towards the kitchen half of the room.
"no thanks," he says, completely emotionless and seemingly unable to hold eye contact with you.
"okay..." you trail off, looking around the room awkwardly as you think of where you should sit down. assuming it's your safest bet, you settle on leaning in the open doorway, your back to the hallway. "did you have a good night yesterday?" you continue.
"I did. I especially enjoyed watching Rebecca embarrass your boyfriend at the table."
"oh- I don't think he's my..." you trail off. who knows what you and Jamie are -- you hadn't had the chance to give it much thought since the gala. "anyways, I'm glad you had fun!" you chirp, unsure of how to act around him. it's never normally this stressful interacting with Roy, but the air this morning feels different than at work, and it's definitely because he's sitting in your flat fully aware of how -- and with who -- you spent your night. the two of you stay in a comfortable silence after that, his head turned to look through the window next to the sofa as you stare down at the floor. just minutes later, not just the sound of footsteps, but also the hand sliding from your bum up to your lower back marks Jamie's entrance.
"chipper up, dickhead. you're a guest, act like one." Jamie says to Roy, palm planted firmly against the curve of your back as he nods his head towards the door.
"careful Tartt, or you'll be running through the streets of Richmond in your socks." Roy bluntly retorts, drawing your attention to Jamie's lack of footwear. you look up at Jamie with wide and amused eyes, trying not to laugh at the state of him. Roy stands up and walks towards the two of you, holding eye contact with Jamie as he drops a pair of runners on the ground.
"mind the floor! Jesus, Roy, you're a really shit houseguest," Jamie jokingly barks as he ducks down to pick up the shoes, and the cold air hits where his hand had rested, making disappointing goosebumps rise across your skin.
Roy rolls his eyes at Jamie, holding his stare with furrowed brows. but he slowly relaxes them before looking at you, genuine regret in his eyes now replacing his previous stern expression; "sorry about your floor, y/n."
"that's fine, don't worry," you wave a hand, dismissing his apology with a sweet smile. he strides towards the front door and twists the handle, waiting for Jamie.
you've never seen anyone tie shoes as quickly as he did, and he stands up with a small hop in his step. "let's go coach!" he chirps, and when Roy turns to leave, he quickly ducks down and kisses you again, running his tongue across your bottom lip teasingly.
"can I come back for my clothes in like an hour?" he asks you, staring deep into your eyes. his eyes hold a mix of sadness and hope, clearly also wishing he could just spend the rest of his morning in bed with you.
"two hours." Roy juts in.
"fine, two hours." Jamie corrects himself, not taking his eyes off yours. biting your lip, you nod up at him, completely infatuated with him. your night together was like nothing you could have ever imagined, and you're surprised your legs are working properly. Jamie, however, seems completely fine as he jogs out the door with a wave, a flirty smile on his face as he winks at you again. "oh, uh- y/n, you've got a little something..." he points towards his neck before sticking out his tongue and pulling the door closed. your eyes widen as panic sets in, and you sprint to your bathroom to look at the mirror.
"fuck..." you sigh to yourself, your face going beet red at the thought of Roy seeing you like this. no wonder he couldn't look at you -- there's a red and purple bruise right under your ear; a hickey from Jamie Tartt.
—
after his morning training with Roy, Jamie came straight back home to you, picking you up from the sofa and carrying you straight to the bathroom. you showered together that morning, adding even more steam to the already wet room. he spent the day at your house, lounging around with you. there was never a moment where you weren't touching, always a hand on your thigh or your fingers raking through his hair. he showed you his favourite film and you showed him yours, and you couldn't help but be surprised that his favourite was Ratatouille. that day was sweet, and calm, and you'd never seen Jamie so relaxed before. suddenly, he wasn't all mouth and attitude, he was tender and loving, even ordering you both takeout for dinner. you enjoyed both chatting and complete silence, taking your time to pick each other's brains and tell each other stories, but also just to enjoy each other's company and the weight of your bodies on top of each other.
he asked you on a second date that day, offering the next day as a good time to do it; "tomorrow's a Sunday," he said, "Sunday is the Lord's day of resting, and what better day is there to stay in the house and shag all day."
"that's seriously your idea for our second date?" you had asked him with an ugly chortle as response to his wild words.
"okay... what if, after work on Monday, I take you to my favourite restaurant, and you can wear that dress you wore to the gala." he said, voice deep and gravelly. all you'd done was nod sweetly before he picked you up and carried you to the bedroom.
you agreed on your date, and from that day on, you would never show up to work alone again -- Jamie would either pick you up in his car, or meet you on your way to work and walk the rest of the way with you. still, every time, there was a latte just for you. and every morning, Jamie still takes the time to sign in before training, always scribbling a small heart next to his name just for you. it didn't take long for him to ask you on a third date, then a fourth, and finally on the fifth he asked you to be his girlfriend. it's not like it was casual by any means, Jamie always went above and beyond on your dates, and you were definitely something more than just dating after the night of the gala. but he'd officially asked you to be his girlfriend after you met his mum for the first time.
he'd taken you and his mum to brunch in one of the fanciest hotels you'd ever seen, and with an endless flow of tiny sandwiches and tea as fuel, the three of you had gotten stuck chatting into the afternoon. you and his mum got on like a house on fire, laughing much louder than seemed appropriate in the esteemed hotel. but you didn't care -- you could tell how much his mum's approval meant to Jamie.
every match he played, you were there wearing his jersey. at Rebecca's request, you were always sitting in the owner's box with her and Keeley, letting you keep your eyes glued on him as he played. and before every match he would blow a kiss up to where you were sitting, just as he did the first time you wore his name on your back at a Richmond match. you even wore the same red and blue jersey to every match he played for England, despite the white jersey given to you when he got selected. during those matches, you would sit in the stands with his mum and her partner, sitting as close to the pitch as you could. that way, if they ever won a match he could run straight to you -- and that's exactly what happened when England won against The Netherlands in the Euros' semi-finals, much to Jan Maas' dismay.
the first time he posted you on Instagram was six months into your relationship, when he took you as his date to Beard and Jane's magical wedding at Stonehenge. you had gone back to Sarah, the tailor who made you your dress for the gala, to get yourself something to wear. this time, Keeley went with you, insisting you should keep your dress a secret from Jamie until the wedding just as if you were the bride and groom. and lo and behold, you caught Jane's bouquet at the wedding reception that night.
the longer your relationship progressed, the stronger the two of you became. Jamie was nothing but a gentleman. always. and as much as the two of you prioritised communication in your relationship, sometimes it was as if you could read each others' minds; taking care of each other quickly became instinctual.
when you eventually moved in with him, Jamie gave you free reign on redecorating his entire house. but you decided to sit with him for hours building a mood board instead, wanting to encapsulate both of your personalities in your shared home. during your first Christmas living with Jamie, both of your families came together to celebrate, and the love and merriness warmed your home for the rest of winter.
before you knew it, years had passed, and you had even gotten your own chance to toss the bouquet, wearing a beautiful dress designed by Sarah, of course. you and Jamie had joined the list of power couples at Richmond FC -- and as long as there were phone calls for you to answer at the club's front desk, and matches for Jamie to help the Greyhounds win, you were also colleagues.
safe to say you never had to force him to come by your desk ever again.
———
wowowow I'm so insanely sorry for how long this took to finish omg. thank u to everyone who took the time to read, like, reblog, and comment lovely things on this fic. i've loved every second of writing it and the fact I still get new notes on it is insane. thanks for sticking with it -- I will forever appreciate it. keep ur eyes peeled for new stuff from me very soon <33
I think Isaac would 100% join his girl’s book club and get really excited about it. I also think he would do coordinated not quite matching outfits with his girl and they would always look GOOD, like they show up and show out even if it’s just a matching jogger set typa thing. Also I think he would enjoy cooking with his girl, like they’d turn on a cutesy lil playlist and talk about their days and cook together
Isaac would love his girl's hobbies; like he is also soo the type to go to the gym with his girl or if she plays a sport he would absolutely try it. If she's a runner, he'll go for jogs with her on his days off. if she's a rugby player, he'd get her to teach him how to tackle but would be too worried about hurting her. if she's a dancer, he'd begrudgingly agree to one class with her (but it would have to be for a special occasion since "Isaac don't dance"). and if she's a footballer, even better -- he'd run drills with her and accidentally get really competitive, having to make up for it by giving her a long massage afterwards.
isaac is sooooo underrated ty for offering to fill the gap in the fic market 🙂↕️
OMG no thank YOU for reading!! I was working on stuff ages ago and maybe with the new season approaching this summer inspiration will spark again..... and pls feel free to send requests!!
Isaac and his girl SCREAM lyrics when singing along in the car. They’re a whole ass dance party and they love it
your miiiiiind. they defo have a whole playlist that's like a million hours long with all of their favourite songs. they know exactly what songs to play for each other when they're in a bad mood or if they're celebrating something -- it's amazing it's such soulmate shit. it doesn't even matter if it's not their car!!! even when they get a lift with colin isaac will immediately connect his phone and blast their songs. it's a love/hate relationship when their friends get lifts with them since they know they're about to witness the greatest duet performance of american boy by kanye and estelle or the most grating vocals screeching along to wannabe by the spice girls. there's no inbetween with these two; their voices will come out hoarse every time they get into a car together.
I think Isaac would love seeing his girl wearing his jersey mostly bc THATS HIS GIRL! WITH HIS NAME ON HER!! And she’s supporting him and also he’s possessive (in the hot way dw)
but also he loves it bc “babe look we match!” I just love the idea of him loving to match or have coordinated outfits with his girl. Like it’s not the exact same outfit or those goofy “if found return to” or matching Mr and Mrs Disney shirts. But the our outfits go together so we visually look like we’re together/a couple. You know? Like if his girl wears a maroon dress to dinner he’s gna have maroon accents or a maroon shirt with black pants or something
Also for the same possessive jersey reasons, I think he’d be so into her wearing his clothes. Like her in his tshirt making breakfast? Obsessed, chefs kiss. Her wearing his Richmond sweatshirt out and about? Never looked hotter
ugh this is so fucking yummy. his phone background is definitely his girl from the back in just his panties wearing his jersey. he loves seeing her wear his name because all it does is reassure him that he's definitely gonna marry her someday. and i can so see him arranging date nights where he has a driver pick her up from home/work and the driver calls her "mrs mcadoo" and it makes her swoon almost as much as him. when he does finally propose i can soooo see him engraving it on the inside of the engagement ring too im obsessed. he's so possessive he needs the relationship to be VISUAL. but yknow how zendaya embroidered Z in a lot of Tom Holland's clothes? i could for sure see him repping his girl's initial on the pocket of his jeans or the cuffs or collar of his suit jackets. delicious.
