Jamie Tartt x Univeristy!gf!reader
After the brief whirlwind morning, you sit on the sofa, hoping to catch up on some set-reading for uni.
The shrill ring of your phone makes you jump out of your comatose state. Jamie.
“Yes?” Standing up from your nest of blankets and textbooks in worry.
So does he on the other end of the line.
“You’re joking,” you deadpanned.
“Wish I was,” he sighed. “Beard’ll kill me.”
You could almost see his expression through the phone: wide-eyed and pouty.
“Oh come on, love. You’re the best. You’re brilliant. You’re gorgeous. Please bring ’em?”
And here you were, 30 minutes later, parked outside Richmond’s training grounds with his boots in a bag on the passenger seat, stomach turning circles.
Because the plan had been: drop them at reception, drive away, remain mysterious and unseen.
The plan had not been what happened next.
Jamie: Roy’s givin a speech. Can u bring them in???
You stared at the message, horrified.
You: Can you not just sneak out?
Jamie: He’ll literally murder me.
You closed your eyes, exhaling through your nose.
Normal people do not just… wander into Premier League facilities.
And worse — god, so much worse — you were not the kind of girl people pictured when they heard “footballer’s girlfriend.”
You were doing your master’s degree, lived on coffee and stress, and owned exactly zero items of designer clothing.
But… Jamie needed his boots.
So you grabbed the bag, stepped out of the car, and approached the reception desk, hoping to give off the image of a dutiful girlfriend rather than a nervous little girl.
“Hi,” you said. “I’m just dropping these off for… someone.”
The receptionist smiled warmly. “Oh! For Jamie? He said you’d be coming. You can go straight through.”
Your stomach fell out of your body.
“Oh— no, no, I can just— leave them here—”
“Don’t be silly,” she said cheerfully, already pressing the door release. “Just head down the corridor, second left into the boot room, right next to the locker room.”
You were trapped. You smile tensely, giving a quick huff of laugh and ‘thank you’ to the receptionist.
Heart in your throat, you stepped inside. The hallway felt too bright, too shiny, too full of framed inspirational quotes. You passed a room that smelled like fresh turf, another that sounded like a gym filled with angry gorillas.
You finally found it — an open doorway filled with shelves, boots, shin guards, and the faint smell of sweaty feet.
You tiptoed inside, set Jamie’s boots neatly on the bench, and whispered to yourself:
Right into the main doorway of the locker room.
Where literally the entire Richmond team was standing.
And Jamie Tartt, already halfway toward you, broke into the brightest, stupidest, proudest grin you’d ever seen.
Every player in the room turned.
Sam beamed. “Ah! Jamie’s girlfriend!”
Colin elbowed Isaac. “Told you she was real.”
“Holy shit, she’s fit,” someone (Jan) whispered.
Roy Kent, sitting on a bench like a gargoyle carved from anger, grunted. “Is this the reason you’ve rambled on about teamwork and passion all morning and made us late? The boots? Christ.”
Jamie bounded over to you like an excited spaniel, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek in front of EVERYONE.
“She brought me boots,” he announced, loudly, proudly, as if you’d just saved the world. “Isn’t she fuckin’ brilliant?”
“Hi,” you said weakly, giving the tiniest, most awkward wave known to human history.
The lads responded like you’d just introduced yourself as Beyoncé.
Sam: “It’s so nice to meet you!”
Dani: “WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!”
Colin: “Don’t worry, we’re very normal.”
Isaac: “We’re not normal.”
Jan: “We are deeply unnormal.”
Jamie puffed out his chest, delighted. “Told you she’s great. She’s doin’ her master’s degree, y’know.”
“Oooooo,” the team exclaim in unison, making you look down and blush deeper.
“Nice to meet you guys too… I’m just gonna-“ Slowly removing yourself from Jamie’s hold, attempting to run away down the hallway.
“Nah, it’s good,” he said, tugging you closer. “Wanted them to meet you. Properly.”
Ted Lasso appeared behind the lads then, clapping his hands. “Well now! Are you the young lady responsible for rescuing Mr. Tartt’s feet today?”
“I— guess?” you squeaked.
Ted smiled warmly. “I appreciate you, ma’am. Truly. Without boots, young Jamie here would be out there in his socks, and I don’t think our insurance covers that.”
The lads laughed again. Jamie looked smug.
Then he leaned down, brushed his nose against your cheek, and whispered, for you alone:
“Thanks for comin’, love. I know you were nervous. Means a lot.”
And even with thirty men watching, his arm around your waist felt like the safest place in the room.
You swallowed, cheeks burning, heart ridiculously full.
“Next time,” you whispered back, “I’m charging you a delivery fee.”
Jamie grinned. “Worth every penny.”
note: lol this is my first fic ever. so sorry if it’s bad. i need jamie tartt fics and i can’t find any so wrote on myself.
pls give me ideas and ways to improve xxx
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