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rqgnarok · 10 months

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i can see you - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 6,082

warnings: SMUT, both implications and the actual act. no use of pronouns but reader is described with female anatomy.

summary: you and jamie have been watching each other for ages, trying not to feel the pull between you. a moment in the hallway changes everything.

author’s note at the end <3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Jamie comes back to Richmond one cold, quiet morning.

Quiet, because his teammates refuse to talk to him even after he’s at the receiving end of the harshest glares Jamie’s ever seen. They prickle his skin and make him feel too small in his own body, but he juts his chin up and trots around the field following Ted’s instructions.

“He’s the worst,” Sam tells you one morning after the facts. You bought an extra coffee on your way in because Sam had spent the entire week clenching his teeth so tightly you could see it in his jaw. It had only taken you one nudge and he spilled his feelings out like a dam breaking. “He just makes me feel awful about myself. And even if he’s apologized, that doesn’t mean he’s changed. I know Ted believes in second chances and I do, too, but that man is incapable of improving. The only person he’s ever cared about is himself.”

You’re inclined to believe him just because of how dejected he sounds. So when Jamie Tartt comes by the PR office later looking for Keeley and finds you instead, the annoyance that overtakes his features only cements your bad image of him.

“Keeley ain’t in?”

“Just missed her,” you say, short and clipped, head bent to focus on your work. “She’s out for lunch, Roy’ll probably bring her back in an hour.”

Silence meets your words, and you look up to see him looking at you, seemingly lost in thought. “Is… there anything else I can help you with?”

He snaps out of it, eyes a little wide and mouth struggling to find the right words. He’s pretty, you allow yourself the thought before immediately filing it away from your mind. He’s an asshole, your brain supplies, and yeah, that’s much better.

“Sorry,” he says in that awful accent of his that’s in no way endearing. Not even a little bit. It doesn’t help that he looks actually apologetic, unsure, tugging at his shirt nervously. “We, um, haven’t met, have we? ‘m Jamie.”

“I know,” you say, not exactly kindly, but the whole world knows who he is. You’d have to be living in outer space to not be aware of Jamie Tartt’s existence. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jamie’s tentative smile turns bitter and he tucks his head down, embarrassed. “Ah. ‘Course. Yeah, no, I’m. ‘m sure you have.”

He sounds just like Sam had when telling you about Jamie’s torment and it tugs at your heart despite how you don’t want it to.

“Anyways, just,” he shrugs, trying to give you a sunny grin and failing only slightly. You almost respect his efforts. “Know you’ve been here a while and all but, uh. Welcome, anyways. Richmond’s a nice place to be.”

You sigh.

“You, too,” you say when he’s already at the door, surprising both of you with your sudden considerate candor. You shrug a little. “What you’re doing can’t be easy. It takes a lot of guts to come back here. I hope it’s worth it.”

“So do I,” he says before giving you one last smile, albeit a bit more genuine, and leaving your office.

After that, you’re both extremely aware of each other. It’s like the universe has decided to make sure you’re always in close vicinity, bumping each other in the hallways, arriving and leaving work at the same time, being paired up by Keeley for ad campaigns and photoshoots. You have the suspicion that Keeley’s been doing it on purpose– a good boss but a nosy friend, nevertheless, but it’s proven incorrect when she assures you don’t have to work with Jamie if you don’t want to.

“I know how he can be,” she says, eyes kind and hands on your shoulders, shaking you a little. “If he makes you uncomfortable in any way just say the word and I’ll take care of it, babes. I know how to handle him anyways.”

But you’re a grown woman. You can handle an asshole at the workplace, even if it comes in the beautiful package that is Jamie Tartt.

You can’t say you haven’t noticed him; his plump lips and smart mouth, defined arms covered in tattoos, hands that look like they know their way around the in-between of someone’s legs. You’re angry at him by your connection to the other boys but you’re not blind– and Jamie is a sight to behold.

He seems to know it, too, smirking at you whenever he catches your eye. He brushes by you in the hallway and you get a whiff of his cologne, sometimes a steady hand around your elbow when your steps stumble.

He murmurs a quiet alright, love? and you both move on with your day, your skin a little too warm and the imprints of his fingers tattooed on your skin until you get home.

You pay him back for those moments at random times. Once, during a photoshoot, you make a noise of frustration when the photographer insists that Jamie poses a certain way, dressed in his uniform as if he were about to jump into the pitch but looking a little too put together.

“It doesn’t feel genuine,” you explain, but you only receive blank, annoyed looks in response, so you take matters into your own hands and walk into the set, placing yourself in front of Jamie.

“Just-” you sigh, frustrated, and reach towards him before hesitating. He’s sitting down for the photo, and the sight of him looking up at you, his body between your legs does something you can’t bear to think about in a workplace environment. “May I?”

Jamie stutters, suddenly nervous. “I- sure. Go ‘head.”

You take off his hairband with a swift motion and tangle your fingers in his hair, messing it up. It’s soft and runs like water between your fingers, the smell of some fancy conditioner and hair product hitting your nose.

You dig your nails into his scalp a little too roughly, and before the apology sitting on your tongue can be said, Jamie’s shiver overtakes his body, a muffled sound being bitten back for you not to hear it, but you hear it anyways.

It makes you stop, just for a second, and your eyes meet. There’s something different in Jamie’s, greyish green darkening like you’re looking into the eye of the storm. The air is suddenly thick with tension, your hands still in his hair, his own twitching in his lap as if wanting to reach for–

Behind you, the photographer asks, “Are you done?”

You gulp and look away from Jamie, voice incredibly steady despite how dry your throat feels. “Almost.”

You hand him the hairband back and your fingers brush when he goes to take it. He exhales a gust of air, slowly, as if trying to avoid any suspicion of how badly the little touch is affecting him.

When it’s back on, you reach again to pull loose some strands of hair and your other hand holds him by the chin, keeping him still.

“There,” you say after a couple of moments or after an eternity. You let go of him and the room comes back into focus.

Jamie blinks as if he’d been having trouble thinking past the touch of your hands on him, oddly intimate. You move out of the way so the photographer can squint at whatever you did with his hair. “You see what I mean?”

The rest of the photoshoot is uneventful, but it becomes quite clear that whatever things you do to get into Jamie’s head work as efficiently to get into yours.

The team begins warming up to him after the whole Dubai Air debacle, and something inside of you unclenches in relief when you see Jamie sharing beer and laughter with the boys in the locker room after Sam’s press conference.

It feels like permission. The guilt you feel whenever you stare at Jamie a little too long suddenly dissipates, and you dare to bite your lip when he catches your eye across the room. His stare slips to your mouth before refocusing on his conversation, and the way he tugs at his collar and his cheeks flush makes you feel victorious despite the team’s loss tonight.

Later at Keeley’s, Roy nurses a beer while splayed out on the couch and asks you about Jamie. “Please tell me he’s done something stupid so I can punch him in the dick next time I see him.”

“You need an excuse for that?” you raise your eyebrows in question.

Roy grunts, but there’s hidden glee in his expression as he concedes your point. “Fair enough. He’s given you any trouble?”

“Nothing worth mentioning, I guess,” you shrug, but you make the mistake of hesitating before answering and Roy perks up like a dog who’s caught an intruder.

“Spill,” he orders, but you’ve been friends with both him and Keeley long enough to know rolling your eyes when he gets all manly is an appropriate response. “Come on, out with it. What he’d do?”

“Nothing!” you exclaim, throwing a pillow at him. He catches it swiftly, which annoys you a little. “Relax, old man. If he ever pulls a little too hard on my pigtails you’ll be the first to know.”

Roy grunts again, not satisfied but done pushing for the night.

The real trouble begins at Christmas, hours after the boys exchange gifts and most of the staff is sent home. You’re on your way out, coat on and Uber on the way when you run, once again, into Jamie in the hall, almost knocking both of you to the ground. He has to quickly hold onto your waist, your hands on his chest, to stop it.

“You scared the hell out of me,” you chastise him, both hating and loving the way he smirks at your breathlessness. “I thought you all troublemakers were gone already. You’ve got the rest of the day off, what are you still doing here?”

“Can’t go back to Manchester with a game tomorrow here, can I?” his hands tighten around your waist for a delicious, stretched-out moment before he lets you go. Jamie covers his flush coughing behind his hand as your own slip from his chest. “You lot just got me back after all. Can’t leave you hangin’ without your best player.”

“Ha, ha,” you laugh sarcastically, knowing he’s mostly kidding about that. “Still, I thought you’d be the first one home. Some Louis Vuitton slippers and Gucci robe on, expensive rum…”

“Oh, know me so well, do you,” he teases, poking at your bag. “What about you? You’re on your way out?”

“Uber’s almost here,” you show him your screen so he can see that your ride’s less than five minutes away. “Are you coming around to Higgin’s later?”

Jamie shrugs. “Don’t know if I’m invited.”

“Of course, you’re invited, Tartt. Everyone is.”

“Don’t know if I’m welcome, then,” he corrects.

“Everyone is,” you say again, firm but a little bit gentler than before. “Honestly, you’re lucky you look the way you do, ‘cause you’re a little bit thick.”

Jamie brightens like a kid on, well, Christmas. “You think I’m hot?”

“Of course, that’s what you take from that,” you roll your eyes. “I gotta go, but I better see you there later.”

You point menacingly at him but he only steps forward until your finger’s touching his chest, towering over you with a smirk that screams trouble. “To give you your gift, you mean?”

“You did not get me something,” you say, as sure about it as you are that the sky is blue and dirt is brown. “Not when you dropped the ball with your Secret Santa earlier today.”

“Maybe I like you better,” he suggests, voice low and rich. The sound makes a knot of heat tighten in your belly. “Than I like them, you’ve ever thought about that?”

You remember what Sam told you when Jamie first came back, how he was incapable of thinking about anyone other than himself. The Mancunian had proved that statement to be incorrect a handful of times already, and you’ve been flirting with him long enough to know you’re attracted to him, but you don’t expect any kind of emotional reciprocation from him. Sure, you’re friendly, maybe you’ll call him your friend at one point, but that’s as far as it usually gets with someone like Jamie.

You didn’t even get him a present. That’s how close you two are.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” you relent. You really should be going, but a part of you needs to entertain this conversation for some reason. It’s not always that you get to talk to Jamie without anyone else present. “What could you have possibly gotten me that you couldn’t give your Secret Santa?”

You barely see the face he makes before you’re being kissed within an inch of your life. Right there in the hallway of AFC Richmond’s training headquarters, Jamie Tartt holds your face in his hands as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, warm and wet and relentless.

You open yourself up to him without thinking it through, your phone lost somewhere in the mess of limbs as you latch onto his shirt, desperate for balance.

The kiss is toe-curling hot, your arms wrapping around Jamie’s neck while his own flail a delicious path through your back, hands going under your coat so you feel his skin hot against your sweater.

He ends up with his arm tight around your waist and a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you close. Your mouths slide against each other, warm breaths trapped between your lips as the desperation for more grows and grows and grows and–

Jamie draws back and leans his forehead against yours only to kiss you again, softer and lingering while you’re still catching your breath, then one last kiss for good measure before finally drawing back. Like it happens around Jamie, the world you’d forgotten had existed outside the two of you comes back with rushing clarity, the hallway still miraculously empty.

“Somethin’ like that,” he says, and it takes you a moment to remember what you were talking about before this. Christmas, parties, gifts…

Jamie takes one last look at your face like he’s trying to commit you to memory while you’re all flushed and breathless before he lets you go, walking away into the locker room. “Merry Christmas, love.”

You stay there for a while after he goes, your fingers inevitably going to your kiss-bruised lips, brain still struggling to catch up to the moment.

Jamie kissed you. You kissed him back. You kissed each other like you weren’t at work and where anyone could walk by and see you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand. Your Uber’s outside and waiting.

You end up missing Higgin’s later that afternoon, unsure if Jamie would actually go after you bugged him about it and are terrified that he might.

You’re not avoiding him. For fuck’s sake, you’re a little too old for high school-level social skills, but you’re not sure your heart could take it if you see him so soon after your kiss, acting like nothing happened.

Or worse, making sure to sit next to you during dinner just so he could put his hand on your thigh and make you sweat while everyone’s watching, unaware of the change that’s just transpired in your relationship.

By the next day, you’ve decided to keep things professional, and it helps that Jamie doesn’t really bring it up. You see him before the game in the locker room when you go record some stories for the Instagram page, and he says hello as casually as the rest of the boys.

You exhale a breath you didn’t know were holding and wish them all the best for the game, though if it’s relief or disappointment that washes over you, you’re not sure.

Life moves on. You continue to work together, not sans stolen glances and running into each other in the hallway. It’s different now, because you both know the other remembers that Christmas kiss and accidentally touching when passing each other by makes your breath hitch and Jamie’s face flush.

The energy you had building up between you is charged with something dangerous now, and unless you dare to talk about it it’ll only build up into something you eventually won’t be able to ignore.

But fuck, do you think about it. About the way Jamie’s hands held you, how they kept you in your place and how they would pin you down if you ever were to end up in bed together, his hips driving home while his mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and accent thick with the heat of the moment.

Fuck. Fuck, you’re so fucking gone for him.

It’s also different because Roy comes back, and it’s like he just knows there’s something about Jamie that you’re not telling him.

“What the fuck was that?”

“What?” you question, trying not to sound too defensive.

“What was that… look?” he splutters. Never once in your life have you seen Roy Kent fucking splutter like he couldn’t get a grip on a situation.

“What look?” maybe you can gaslight your way out of this one, you hope, because Jamie had been less than subtle when coming up to you both in the parking lot and talking about needing your help for a sponsored post he was supposed to make.

He got real close, so near you could smell the mix of cologne, sweat, and plain Jamie that rested on his skin. While showing you his phone put a hand on the small of your back, fingers spread open and hot like a brand.

It’d stolen your breath for a second, a hitch in an exhale that had caught both Jamie’s and Roy’s attention. You eyed Jamie warningly but he only smirked, completely aware of what he was doing. You said something about tagging the sponsor and then he was gone, brilliant smile and thanks on his lips as he waved you goodbye.

“That look, all cheeky and shit,” Roy points at where Jamie used to be and looks around for witnesses. You roll your eyes so hard it makes your head hurt a little. “Like he knows something I don’t, as if there’s anything in his brain other than elevator music.”

And of course, he tells Keeley about it, which earns you an interrogation as soon as you come down to the office.

“Thought he didn’t have access to his account,” Keeley frowns. “Didn’t you change his password after the Oreo Incident?”

“God, don’t even think about the Oreo Incident while near me,” you rub at your temples to try to diminish the migraine building up at the mere thought of it.

Now you gotta worry about Roy becoming a buffer between you and Keeley not buying your usual excuses. With them and the rest of the team and staff in the mix, you don’t stand a chance to get near Jamie.

You start surviving on fantasies alone that grow and spiral into unrealistic, too-hot scenarios.

Jamie, his shorts around his ankles and you on your knees in an empty locker room, his hands on your hair as he pants please, love, so fuckin’–

You on the desk and Jamie with his head between your legs, late into the night after everyone’s gone home and it’s you and him in your office as you moan fuck, Jamie, that’s– yeah, that’s good–

A night in a hotel room after some away game, Jamie letting you ride the leftover energy out of him. Thassit, angel, put your back into it, yeah? Be good for me.

It’s too much and it’s not enough.

Jamie throws himself into his training, trailing after Roy’s approval and eager to improve in every way he can, both as a person and a player. It’s nice to see him so dedicated, you think, remembering the traces of cockiness when you two first met in your office.

They’re still there somewhere, and you see them shine when, for some reason, all the coaching staff– Ted included– give Jamie the bird mid-game. You’re sitting on the V.I.P. box next to Keeley when his monster of a goal goes through, screaming your lungs out and hugging everyone within six feet of you.

You’re too far away from the field to see clearly, but you can imagine Jamie with striking clarity: cocky expression and tongue out, arms crossed before the rest of the boys jump with glee to embrace and congratulate him.

The locker room is a mess of sweat and laughter when you go down there, Keeley making a beeline for Roy and Rebbecca going straight to Ted. It leaves you with a bunch of overexcited men hugging you and handing you drinks in celebration.

“No stories for the ‘gram today,” you promise when Zorreaux and Dani begin posing, making faces, and showing off muscles to you. You can’t help but laugh, Sam’s arm around you. “I’m off duty tonight, boys. On a fan capacity only.”

“Are we allowed to date fans?” Jan Maas asks, half joke half genuine question. The boys make ooooh noises of interest.

You laugh again, not taking it seriously, but Keeley suddenly pipes up from her spot on Roy’s lap. “Please don’t! It’s a PR nightmare.”

Roy adds helpfully. “I’ll punch you in the dick.”

The conversation shifts to other topics but you search the room to find Jamie already looking at you, eyes dark and jaw tight. It’s barely a moment of eye contact, insignificant to anyone else in the room, but it’s enough to make your insides flutter. Meet me outside.

Thank God everyone’s too distracted celebrating when you sneak out of the locker room about half an hour later. You find Jamie already there, waiting for you at the end of it. He brightens when he sees you, shutting his phone and putting it in his back pocket.

It’s a little overwhelming, having Jamie Tartt’s full attention on you. As if it’s not exactly what you’ve been pining after for months.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Man of the Match?”

“Me?” he wonders faux incredulously while leaning casually against the wall, a dramatic hand to his chest. You walk till you’re right in front of him. “I work here, love. Or are you forgetting my heroic play out there already?”

You scoff. “We work here, dumbass, and how can I forget? It’s all everyone’s talking about. What are you doing away from your victory parade?”

“Same thing you are. Taking a breather,” he shrugs, giving you a slow once over, taking you in head to toe. You’re wearing a Richmond jersey and some loose jeans, nothing to write home about, but Jamie seems to like it. His tongue wets his lips before he focuses on your face again, charming. “Lots of people in there, yeah? Needed a minute.”

You raise your eyebrows, amused and unconvinced. “I can leave you alone if you want.”

Jamie abandons his spot against the wall and goes to you, slow and careful like a hunter stalking its prey. He says, voice a low, rough murmur, “Didn’t I already tell ya I like you better? You can stay as long as you want, love.”

Your entire body heats up at the callback to last December, the reminder of how easily Jamie snuck into your personal space and stole your breath with a heart-stopping kiss in this very same hallway.

“I‘m not gonna lie, this seems a little orchestrated, Tartt.”

He smiles, indulgent. “Oh?”

“Sending me looks, getting me all alone…” you take a step closer so you’re poorly hidden behind the water cooler. If someone were to walk out of the locker room, they’d have to walk this way and take a turn to see you standing so close to each other.

“You were the one who followed me out,” he reminds you, tilting his head and raising his brows. He’s so expressive and you can’t take it, want to put your mouth to every inch of his face until he’s saying nothing but your name. “Who’s the real mastermind here, ey?”

“Don’t even,” you warn, unable to bite back an upward tilt of the lips. “I know how you get in hallways, mister. I haven’t forgotten, yet.”

“Haven’t forgotten you kissed me back, either,” he adds and dares to place a not-quite kiss on the corner of your mouth, a barely-there brush of the lips. “Couldn’t let go of me, could you?”

“Yeah, well, you leave a lot to the imagination,” you can’t help but complain, the little touch not enough to satiate the hunger you’ve been cultivating since that moment. You grab onto his shirt with a strength you didn’t know you possessed. “I gotta brush up against you just to see if you’ll do something about it and you never do.”

Jamie laughs, rich and warm.

“You think I don’t see ya?” he wonders, fingers brushing against your knuckles before his hands travel slowly up your arms, touch agonizingly warm. Your breath hitches, and it only makes him bolder. “When you pass me by right here in the hallway, touchin’ me ‘on accident’? Leavin’ me wantin’ more?”

“Do you?” you wonder, voice low, facade cracking as your eyes fall to his mouth for a second, stare hungry. “Want more?”

“How could I not?” he admits. You’re looking at him like you want to take a bite out of him, and the adrenaline of that goal is finally wearing off to find more unreleased energy behind it, a tension that’s been strung tight long before he stole a kiss from you. “Fucking Christ, angel, you’re…”

“What?” you wonder when he trails off. Your hands brush against the hem of his shirt and Jamie feels your touch even through his clothing. “What about me?”

You make him feel like he’s on fire, right here in the hallway where anyone, anyone, could see you. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

You smirk, pleased.

“What would you do, huh? If I touched you right now?”

Jamie breathes out his nose harshly. “Fuck.”

“What if I told you-” you begin, slow and tortuous. “That I haven’t stopped thinking about you here? Against the wall where anyone could walk by? What if I wanted you so badly that I didn’t care if they did?”

Jamie follows the bridge of your nose and the shape of your eyebrows with his eyes, the bite of your lip calling to him like a brightly lit bullseye.

He thinks fuck it. Fuck it, fuck restraint, fuck stringing this out any longer. He’s a winner tonight, in more ways than one.

Who knows who leans in first? All you know is that you both meet in the middle, clashing like two waves hitting each other, his mouth frantic and eager on yours. He has one hand at the small of your back, pulling you to him, and another one on your collarbone edging dangerously to wrap around your throat, fingers drumming against tender skin.

You’re touching him everywhere you can reach, feeling so untethered to the rest of the world that your knees buckle, helping him keep you right where he wants you. Whatever remaining bravado you had left vanishes when he has you like this, and you’re desperately trying to keep him close by clutching at the back of his shirt, tanging your fingers into his hair, and raking your nails against his clothed torso.

You can’t make up your goddamned mind. You want all of him, putty in your hands, all the time.

You hear a couple of voices, laughing and joking, leaving the locker room and becoming louder by the second. You separate, mouths bruised and tender to the touch. Jamie offers you his hand, smile glinting dangerously. “You trust me?”

You scoff, taking it and intertwining your fingers. “Against my better fucking judgment.”

He pulls you towards the closest exit and you let yourself be led, anything other than your phone forgotten in your office.

In the blink of an eye, he’s got you in his car, his hand on your thigh edging closer and closer and closer to where you want it. You’re sure he misses one or three stop signs and runs a red light, but the streets are almost deserted at this hour and your skin is warm, only getting warmer even with the AC at full blast.

When you get to his place it’s like you never stopped, and despite your urgency for him to have you right there in the middle of the training facilities, you love the way he pins you against the wall of his home, picture frames rattling with the force of it. His hands bruise your hips and he lifts your jersey up to your chest so his mouth can travel a path of bare skin down your torso, wet and open-mouthed.

He looks up to you when he reaches the waist of your pants, kneeling in front of you, a question melted in the sheer want of the green of his eyes.

He’s asking for permission, you realize.

Something sweet momentarily replaces the urgency you have for him, and you have to drag him back up for another kiss. He makes a questioning noise when you pull him towards you but melts against you when his lips touch yours. It’s a tender thing, an answer, one last quiet moment before you both sink into the chaos.

“Lemme see you,” Jamie kneels back between your legs, this time cleverly undoing your pants and leaving you in nothing but your underwear while you struggle out of your shirt and leave it forgotten on the floor.

His fingers brush over the wet spot between your legs and you gasp, insides clenching in response to his touch. He sounds gutted when he says, “God, look at you. Haven’t even touched you, yet, fuck.”

He tucks his face between your legs and runs his tongue over your clothed clit, the sensation of the wet fabric against his tongue driving him crazy.

He’s painfully hard against his boxers. Jamie’s been waiting for this too long– there’s no way he’s lasting as long as he wants to, but he can focus on you for the time being. It’s not a difficult task, your body’s trembling with the force of your arousal and begging him to do something.

It calls to him, muting the rest of the world around him.

“Are you ever gonna, or should I get things going on my own?”

He smirks against your thighs, biting playfully at the skin there before going alright, alright when you pull at his hair, though it only makes his dick twitch in his pants.

He feels more than he sees your shiver when he finally gets your underwear out of the way, and he wastes no time before hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder before diving in, eating you out with the energy of a man starved.

You hadn’t even made it past the living room.

“Fuck,” you moan, hips thrusting forward and your hand tightening against his hair, the other one searching and failing to find balance against the wall you’re leaning against.

You want to close your eyes as the waves of pleasure wash over you, your muscles taunt with how Jamie’s expertly driving you closer and closer to your orgasm, but you can’t take your eyes off of him. “Fuck, Jamie, that’s good. You’re so good at that, oh–”

You see how his body takes in the praise and feel it against your center when he moans into you, tongue cleverly touching all the right places. Jamie closes his eyes, thoroughly enjoying the experience.

He suddenly draws back, earning a noise of displeasure from you only to be rendered back into a moaning mess when his hands replace his mouth. He looks up at you like he’s staring at a deity.

“What d’ya want?” he asks as he slides two fingers through your folds, his other hand keeping your hips pinned to the wall as you try to buckle into his touch, whimpers echoing through Jamie’s home. “Huh, love? Have I left you speechless already?”

“You said I left you thinkin’ about it,” he recalls, too coherent for someone as terribly horny as he is. But Jamie needs to know, he wants you to crave him as desperately as he does you. “Back in the hall, that’s what you said. Whad’ya want, love? Where do ya want me?”

“Here,” you pant, eyes closed and face tilted upwards as you try to move your hips, chasing ecstasy. Jamie’s fingers are slowing down, probably to make you focus and only driving you further insane. “Anywhere, everywhere. Fuck, Jamie, I want all of it, all of you, please–”

“Greedy,” he singsongs, but any amusement is ripped from his throat with a moan when you pull at his hair again, walnut mist locks like silk between your fingers. He quickens the pace, unable to deny you. “Fuck, greedy thing, aren’t you? Wasn’t enough to stare me down and to steal a kiss, ya want all of it.”

You sigh, muscles clenching. “Yes, yes, yes, yes…”

“Then take it,” he gives you all you want on a silver platter, right there for you to take. “All you need, angel, ‘s all yours, ‘m all yours–”

With both his fingers and mouth back at work, you’re a lost cause, reaching your high and letting it wash over all your limbs like TV static before you become boneless against the wall.

Jamie kisses your knee before moving your leg from his shoulder and setting it gently on the ground, back on his feet just in time to kiss you soundly.

He’s practically holding you up, your arms limply hanging around his neck and your legs made of jelly after the strength of your orgasm. It’s like you let go of all the tension that started building up the second Jamie walked into your office that cold November morning and there’s nothing left holding you up other than his hold on you.

Except Jamie’s hips push into yours and you feel the length of him pressed against you. It’s a reminder that no matter how badly he seemed to enjoy eating you out he hasn’t been able to find his own release. Yet.

You smirk lazily, finding the strength from God knows where to cup him in your hand, watching his expressive face contort in desperate pleasure. “What about you, Jay? What do you want?”

Jamie is unable to do anything other than babble nonsense as you move past his shorts and boxers to take him in your hand, slow and tight. He gives out a little cry when you strengthen your grip, exhaling as he rests his head on your shoulder.

He never does answer you, and Jamie comes like that in your arms, quick and easy. He’s kissing your shoulder, your neck, the hinge of your jaw before finding your mouth and slipping his tongue past your lips, languid and easy.

“You getting tired on me, angel?” he wonders, massaging the skin of the back of your neck to gain your attention. You turn your head, following his motions. His eyes haven’t lost their dark edge. His mouth is red and calling for you to worsen the damage. “Cause the night’s young, you know. Bed’s comfortable, too. If I’m good against a wall, wait ‘til I get you in me bedroom.”

“You’re an idiot,” you say, but you feel a flutter of interest between your legs. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m attracted to you.”

He steals another kiss just for that, giddy with victory, though you don’t know how long you’re gonna get away with calling it stealing when you keep giving yourself to him without a second thought.

“Is that a yes?”

You pretend to ponder on it. “Well. You haven’t fucked me, yet. There’s still room for improvement.”

Jamie shivers. He can’t resist the challenge and you know it. Whether you’re on the other side of the room or in his arms, he’s never getting enough of you and you love it.

“Oh, angel,” he cups your face, already on his way to seal his lips onto yours. “You’ve no idea.”

___

IT’S HERE IT’S HERE IT’S HERE

i’m so afraid of not living up to the expectations of the song but i couldn’t get this idea out of my head!!! thank you if you got this far into the read and i appreciate any comment of support and feedback!

i’m hoping to put out two or three more fics this summer before school starts, after that my schedule might not allow me to post that often but i’m not gonna leave you guys hanging, don’t worry!

_____

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 7 months

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Assuming the farmer has social anxiety and they're really scared of approaching the towns people when they first moved in (except Lewis and Robin because it was practically forced interaction lol), how do you think the towns people approach the farmer or how long does it take for the farmer to approach them? Sorry if this sounds like a lot, you can write anything and any length 🥹🥹

Hey, dear anon 👋 Thanks for your ask ❤️

The question is quite interesting, by the way. I decided to write about all the residents of the Valley, so I apologise that the answer took so long. Anyway, enjoy!

How quickly the townspeople become friends with the shy Farmer:

Oh, the new farmer decided to visit the Saloon after all? Let them sit down, then. Gus noticed that the shy Farmer came here to meet new people, but they was still afraid even to address Gus himself and ordered dinner, sitting at the farthest table. He would be quite cautious and very polite to Farmer. However, you won't get a long conversation - other customers are waiting. So the Farmer will have to try their luck at friendship with Gus after hours. Considering his good-naturedness, it won't be difficult even for Farmer.

In Shane's case, a man who has no desire to get to know the new residents of this town (he hardly interacts with the locals either, except for his aunt and niece and maybe Sam) the time to get to know each other will be quite long. A year or more. It's going to be very slow, and most likely Farmer themself needs to make the first step towards friendship.

Clint didn't really care who it was that had come to their forgotten little town, which for some unknown reason he had also been brought to. The local blacksmith was hardly sociable, rather the opposite, a perpetually sullen and shy pessimist. Therefore, he will not actively seek acquaintance and friendship with Farmer. So the young grower of various crops needs to make the first step. It is better to start with amethysts, they are easier to get.

Given that Harvey is a rather good-natured and patient man, and also wants to maintain a good relationship with his patients, it doesn't matter who makes the first move - both Farmer and Harvey will quickly find common ground. A month, maybe a little less.

Grandma Evelyn will welcome Farmer with open arms. Having learned from Lewis that the new Farmer is very shy, she will be the first to start a dialogue and do everything she can to make her old friend's grandchild feel at home in the Valley. About from delicious baked goods sent in the mail, or simple greetings in the main square as she tends to the flowers. Even the shyest of people will want to make friends with her, such a sweet Granny!

Farmer doesn't have to worry about introducing themself to the strange man who lives in a high tower far from Pelican Town - Rasmodius is already the first to write a letter and the first to start a conversation when the youth crosses the threshold of his domain. Passionate more in the knowledge about the mystical 'Junimo', the Wizard pays no heed to Farmer's faint attempts to get to know him better. Maybe later, when he has some time free from magical research. He's not overly social, and he often speaks in riddles, but still quite a nice person. Albeit a bit odd, but in a year's time he can be called an unusual friend.

To be honest, in the Spring Year 1 Alex will first try to start a dialogue with the newcomer, but he will quickly lose interest and may not even remember the existence of Farmer at all. And if they do have a small dialogue, Alex is unlikely to remember it. The first step will be made by him, and taking into account that the young athlete will most often praise himself as a future sports star, the conversation will be... so-so. It will take a lot of time and Farmer's patience for Alex to reveal himself to be the real deal, not the boastful brat.

Like her regular dance partner at the Flower Festival, Haley doesn't seem to notice Farmer's presence at all, with only her sister constantly buzzing in her ear that someone has arrived in Pelican Town and settled on the old farm. Straightforward, sometimes tactless in her comments about the appearance of Farmer, and flippant - many who do not know Haley intimately will not have the best first impression. So it will take a lot of time (and self-control) to get to know her better.

Demetrius, preoccupied with his experiments, would not impose his acquaintance on the newcomer, only make polite introductions and inform them that his daughter also wanted to welcome Farmer. Stuck in his notes or constantly in the lab, Farmer will have to try a little harder to draw the scientist's attention to themself and make a friendly conversation. In principle, a few attempts during half a year - and they will quickly find a common language.

With Abigail, it would depend on her mood. Some days she will take a interest in the Farmer, ask questions and slowly become buddies. However, there are days when a fight with her parents or something else makes her mad, and the purple-haired girl can bark at Farmer in such a way that they have no desire to communicate further. But she is quite friendly, so friendship with her will start after a few months, and she will be the initiator.

Oh, Penny... Two very shy people who have exchanged greetings, and now stand in silence, absolute awkward silence... But interestingly, they will become friends pretty quickly, the key is to find a small interesting topic (Farmer will probably talk first) and the conversation will develop into another conversation, and another, and another. And *poof* - friendship!

Emily saw Farmer for the first time and was immediately like - instant mutuals. She feels Farmer's aura, the little sparks in their eyes, and realises they are going to be best friends! The girl will often invite Farmer to her house for tea, or to show her new outfits she has sewn. Maybe if they want to, she'll make something nice for them too? She is easy to get along with, and in a month Emily and Farmer will be besties!

Marlon is a man of few word, and not to say that he actively seeks friendship with the people of the Valley. He is a lone wolf by nature, and the only friend he can name is Gil, who, by the way, is also a man of few word. On the other hand, if Farmer feels uncomfortable with so many people in Pelican Town, Guild and two old adventurers will warmly welcome Farmer to their cosy base, treat them to campfire soup and share tales. So slowly but surely the friendship of the two older guild members with the youngest will form.

Grumpy, distrustful of new faces, a bit rude - George definitely wouldn't be called a conversation buddy. And he certainly wouldn't interrupt his favourite TV show to have a chat with the new Farmer. He's not trying to be rude on purpose, no. It's just that due to his advanced age he can be impatient, so the Farmer will have to be patient and make the first move to talk. Six or eight months is about enough time for George to trust them.

Jas and Vincent will behave completely opposite to each other: while Sam's younger brother needs only a few snails or a piece of pink cake to call the Farmer his best friend, Jas will be more wary, remembering that Aunt Marnie and Uncle Shane always said not to talk to strangers. However, if the shy farmer finds a common language with Marnie or Shane first, then Jas herself will take a step towards friendship. With Vincent it will be about a couple of months, for Jas longer, but they will soon understand that the Farmer is quite a good person and not boring adult.

Well, it's safe to say that it was Farmer who was the first to strike up a dialogue and friendship with Leo. The boy is very shy on his own, but parrot friends are his friends, so slowly but surely he and Farmer become friends. I would give it a year for Leo to fully trust Farmer.

Gunther is in the library most of the time, so the introduction only happened with Farmer when they brought an interesting artefact. Not to say that the museum keeper wants to be friends with them that much, but if they don't mind being pals - then Gunther won't say no. Or conversely, if the Farmer feels uncomfortable and too shy, he'll leave them alone. If Farmer is so interested, then let them visit Gunther more often, he has many interesting stories, and they'll become pals in no time.

Oh, a human? Here in the sewers? Please don't be frightened by Krobus, he's completely harmless, he'll even sell you interesting goods. Friendship? Oh, well, it can get very lonely in here. The Farmer's not going to harm Krobus, correct? Then, shall we be friends? Also polite and shy, Farmer and Krobus will quickly find common ground.

With her aerobics club, Caroline knows how difficult and scary it can be to get to know a new community. Some fit right in with their little group right away, some took a little more time. So Caroline will endeavour to make the atmosphere in her husband's shop as welcoming as possible for Farmer, just so they don't feel uncomfortable. 3-4 months of small conversations - and, well, a friendship began.

Caroline's husband, Pierre, on the other hand... Well, he'll be the first to engage in dialogue, that's for sure. Except that he sees Farmer first as a potential customer who needs to be wooed with tempting discounts on seeds and a friendly atmosphere so that they will definitely only buy from his shop. If Yoba has gifted the Farmer with universal patience, then they can try to bond with Pierre as buddies, at least, and not just as buyer/seller.

To Farmer's great regret, Morris is even worse than Pierre..... Social anxiety? No anxiety, because discounted merchandise at JojaMart will save the Farmer all the trouble! Marketing from Yoba, for crying out loud... If for some reason Farmer decided to give the chance to be friends with Morris, they'd have to try their best to talk to the perpetually busy manager of a huge company about something unrelated to that very company.

Willy is your man! Even if Farmer isn't too interested in fishing, the old sailor can still quickly become a good friend for a shy newcomer in Stardew Valley. Silently fishing, telling tales of his fishing adventures or just a little conversation - good-natured enough, he will become a good friend in as little as two or three months.

Heh, If a Farmer kid puts a free mug of cold beer next to Pam, she will already call them a friend! Ha ha! Eh, don't mind her, she's just kidding. But seriously, if you want Pam's favour, it would be a good idea to start with ale or beer, and then you can get to know her. If the poor shy Farmer is against alcohol, they could fill Pam up with a mountain of her favourite parsnips - and in one spring they'll be besties!

Sebastian is not what you would call an outgoing personality or conversation buddy, so Farmer needs to be the first to strike up a dialogue with the local emo. Sebby himself is also shy, and it takes quite a while for the first step towards friendship. Six to nine months, maybe a little sooner if Farmer and Sebby are in the company of Abby and Sam. You find friendship faster in a collective somehow.

Oh, there they are! The cause of much discussion and various rumours in Pelican Town over the last week! Oh, no no, nothing bad has been said. Elliott was just intrigued and eager to meet the new Farmer who had come from the big city to seek happiness in the Valley. He's only recently arrived too, you know. But the writer realises that moving to another place is tiring, and meeting a new community can be a bit scary. So when the Farmer is the first to give the sign, Elliott is happy to talk about his life and ask about the life of the new Farmer. Five months is enough time to build a strong friendship.

Although Leah lives alone in her cottage near the forest, the red-haired artist doesn't mind guests at all. So she is very welcoming to the new Farmer, who is trying to get over their nervousness and get to know all the residents. A big bonus if during their stay at Leah's house the Farmer decides to treat the her to some wild mushrooms or vegetables they've managed to grow on their farm. In a couple of months, the two neighbours will become real friends, constantly exchanging forest gifts and interesting stories.

If the Farmer loves animals, they already have Marnie as a friend. Always cheerful and optimistic - the new Farmer will quickly find common ground with her. Of course, she needs to get to know them better before selling her favourite animals, but she can already let the Farmer pet her favourite goats or cows if they are feeling stressed by their new acquaintances. Affectionate animals will immediately calm and cheer up the Farmer, + 10 point to building friendship with Marnie. Be an honest and decent person, don't forget to respect the animals, and then you'll become Marnie's friend in a few months.

Oh, Jodi had time to discuss with her friends all the rumours about the new Farmer who had arrived in the Valley. And the rumours were naturally different from reality, because Jodi hadn't expected them to be so shy. Oh well, everyone is different. She doesn't mind chatting to Farmer sometimes, but doesn't actively seek friendship, as she has so much to do around the house!

As for Kent... It's pretty complicated here. Tired and exhausted, he's trying to get away from all the horrors he's been through, and although he was the first to greet Farmer at the start of Year Two, he's not going to chase after Farmer and offer friendship. Kent is... trying to come round. So it may take Farmer more than a year to bond with him and let him remember that before he left Pelican Town, he had and has, in addition to a loving family, friends- old friends, and a new one too!

Oh, oh, oh! And Maru was just looking for the newly arrived Farmer to meet! New people in a small town are always interesting, so the young inventor doesn't miss the opportunity to introduce herself, not forgetting to recommend that they also introduce themselves to her parents and half-brother. Will gladly listen to the Farmer, or have no problem leaving them alone if they are still too shy and trying to get used to the local community. Three months is enough time for the two of them to hang out in the lab and discuss different topics like a nerds.

Please don't think that Linus is a rude and cold person, he is not. It's just that people's scepticism towards him and his chosen lifestyle has made Linus behave very cautiously around strangers. Though Stardew Valley villagers are more kind than in other places, caution never hurts. Farmer has to be patient to gain friendship with a wild man who happens to be very learned, kind and wise. But they will know this only when the Farmer gets to know Linus better, and that will take at least six months.

Oh, they moved in already? Sam heard that someone new is coming to the old farm. The musician doesn't mind new faces in the Valley at all, as this could be a potential friend to hang out with. Considering he's always chilling and a real soul of the company, it's easy to make a friendship with him right away. He has the personality of a golden retriever.

If Farmer isn't a spy of the Shadow People, then Dwarf doesn't mind getting to know each other at all. It's been a long time since he's talked to humans, and he has so many important questions that interest him so much (about milk, for example). Quite a bit surprised when the conversation makes the Farmer nervous and says they're shy. Well, they were the ones who broke through the rubble-filled passage to the cave with their pickaxe, so it's too late to be shy. And there's no arguing about it. As with the Clint, a mountain of amethysts is a guarantee of friendship with the Dwarf, so in four months he'll stop suspecting them of espionage. But it's not certain.

Wonderful! Robin and Lewis are pleased that, despite their shyness, the new Farmer has found common ground with some of the people of Stardew Valley already. Robin, by the way, thought she and the town mayor maybe had gone a little overboard by practically forcing their acquaintance on the poor Farmer, but she's glad it all ended well. And Lewis is just glad that their little community has been enriched with another resident.

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