#roy kent drabble

[john-get-the-salt]

Tight Leash w/ Roy Kent

Imagine: Roy has managed to keep his feelings for you to himself….until one night he’s unable to hold onto them any longer.

Contains: fem/reader, cursing, Roy losing his absolute shit in the best way, sexual innuendos

Warnings: none

“I can’t believe I ever let you convince me to wear this.”

“Babes you look phenomenal,” Keeley preened.

You might not have had the option to skip the fundraiser event you were about to enter, but you did have the option to wear something more….lowkey. You did tend to keep it lowkey, as one of the clubs media specialists. Keeley handed all of the flashy bits, the paparazzi and signings and public appearances. You tended to a lot of the background stuff; the sports articles and communications within the league, and the clubs various websites and platforms. Ever since you joined the team nearly a year go now you liked to work in the background, liked being unnoticeable.

Unfortunately you’d become best friends with Keeley Jones-the most noticeable person on the planet. And when you learned you had to attend some annual fundraising gala Rebecca was putting on, Keeley made it her life mission to convince you to wear something daring. And in a moment of weakness you’d agreed.

But now that you were present at the gala and it was almost your turn to walk to press carpet, you were having some serious regrets.

“Seriously Keeley, I feel ridiculous. One of the guys is going to see me and bust out laughing. This is something Rebecca would wear and pull off, not me.” Not to mention the carpet ahead was daunting. Cameras flashing constantly, held by shouting, viperous paparazzi.

“Hey,” Keeley pulled you to the side, forcing you to look at her instead of ahead at the walk into the hall. “No matter what mean things your brain are telling you right now, you look phenomenal. And when the guys see you, when Kent sees you-they’re gonna be lost for words.”

You flushed, because of course your best friend couldn’t resist mentioning the man you had a huge thing for. She never let it go after you let it slip one night. The two of you were just friends, no matter how much Keeley insisted that Roy was in love with you. You two had hit it off shortly after you started, appreciating each other’s dry sense of humor and love of cursing. Besides Keeley he was your best friend. But that was it-no matter how much you daydreamed of more.

"You've got this babe, i promise. Don’t forget-you are a badass bitch." Keeley gave you a final smile and quick kiss on the cheek before she was being called up. She left your side and stepped out onto the carpet. The photographers went wide, bursts of light exploding. You were officially next.

You took a deep breath, in and out. You just wanted to be inside the gala with your people, having fun with the club and Rebecca and Keeley. Unfortunately, this carpet stood in between you and them.

Just when you thought you had taken enough deep breaths and were finally ready, you heard a sharp inhale behind you. You risked a glance over your shoulder, finding Roy standing a few feet behind you. And you had to admit, he looked good. The all black attire did not surprise you but it did suit him. He was taking you in, slowly, from head to toe. Your outfit was all white, comprised of crisp high waisted pants and a corseted long sleeve top. (see visual below, I love a good visual, tho feel free to alter it in your brain to best suit you)

When his eyes finally rose to your chest he swore.

"Fucking hell."

"What was that, Roy?"

His eyes rose again, this time to meet yours.

Maybe it was Keely's words ringing around your head, or the way Roy couldn't keep his eyes off you, or the shot of whiskey you'd taken on the drive in. But regardless, you suddenly felt a smudge more confident. So with a final mental fuck it, you decided to embrace it. You relaxed your shoulders, straightened your spine, and as they called your name you smiled at Roy and gave a quick wink before you spun on your heel and took your first step out onto the carpet.

The cameras lit up, photographers crying for a spin, a turn, an angle, any bit of attention. You stopped a few times, allowing them pictures of you in different poses. The lights and the noises soon became too much however, so you kept it short before you strutted down the rest of the carpet and made it inside the gala building where Keely was stood waiting.

"Oh my god, you looked like a right model walking into a show," she gushed. "Those pictures of you are going to be jaw-dropping babe. And poor Roy's dragging his jaw against the floor."

You flushed as you let the excitable girl link arms with you and drag you towards the teams designated table. "I don't know what came over me, Ke. I just decided to go with it and channel my inner Rebecca. And I fucking winked at Roy. Who am I?“

"If he doesn't pull you away to ravish you by the end of the night I will."

You giggled with your friend, happily accepting the drink she got you.

"Ladies."

To your delight Coach Lasso approached, eyes crinkled as he smiled. "You both look down-right beautiful."

"Oh thank you Ted, you're looking quite handsome this evening."

"Well that's mighty kind of you. Now between the three of us, I was really just coming to let you know that Roy just stormed into the building like a starved man on a mission, demanding to know if I'd seen which way you went. The poor man looked so red in the face I was worried he was going to keel over."

You flushed, eyes suddenly finding the floor quite interesting.

"Now you two wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

"He's realizing that he's in love with her," Keely couldn't help but gush.

Eyes widening, you smacked her arm.

"Ow!"

"Keely! He is not!"

"Ah," Lasso hummed, chuckling a bit. "It's about damn time. The boys and I are getting tired of the silent pining."

"We are not- there is no silent pining." You argued, looking between your two friends.

“You two have been inseparable since you met. You spend more time with him then anyone else in the club, babes.”

“Kee, we’re just friends.”

"I don’t think he thinks that," Lasso gestured with his head and you followed his gaze, finding Roy stood across the room, staring straight at you.

Your heart skipped a beat as his intense eyes met yours.

"I need some water," you stated, the air suddenly too heavy to breath.

"I can-"

"It's ok, Kee," you interrupted, kissing her cheek. "I'll be back."

She nor Lasso argued, watching as you hurried away from the table and towards the bar. Roy was after you the next minute, speeding across the floor and past the table towards you.

"Those two...." Lasso trailed off as he shook his head.

"Idiots."

"Lovesick idiots."

-

You weren't really thinking straight when you rushed away from your friends. All you could think was that the weight of Roy's gaze was heavy, stifling, and you felt your chest constrict.

You stepped up to the bar and asked for an ice water, receiving it moments later. You thanked the bartender and glided over to a neglected corner of the room, where only a few stragglers buzzed around. It was quieter over here, and you could feel the ache in your chest ease slightly.

"Hey," a soft voice invaded your space.

You froze, turning.

Roy was stood there, looking down at you again with that intense dark gaze.

"Hi," you said softly, unable to stop your eyes from flickering down to his lips before quickly back up.

"You look....fucking beautiful."

A heat began in your cheeks, reaching down your neck and no doubt flushing your collar and chest as well.

"That word doesn't seem quite enough. Fucking....breathtaking." And the way he said it sounded like he was, in fact, breathless. His chest heaved, as he stood perfectly still in front of you.

The heat was beginning to prick at your stomach, and if Roy wasn't very careful it was going to continue to travel downward.

"Thank you. Everyone here looks pretty amazing."

"Sweetheart, I haven't so much as glanced at anyone else in here. How can I, when you look so...." he trailed off, lips parting silently.

"What?"

“I’ve been doing my best to keep what I was feeling on a tight leash. I never wanted to ruin…this. Our friendship. I don’t know what I’d do with it, but…”

You furrowed your eyebrows. He wasn’t making any sense. “What are you saying Roy?”

"Can I kiss you?"

Ok, the heat had officially traveled to your entire body. You felt like you were on fire, and all Roy was doing was looking at you. Never had you considered how much a simple question like that could affect you, but as you watched him wait in heavy anticipation, wanting to touch you but unwilling until you gave him permission, you became weak in the knees.

"Yes-" the word was barely out of your mouth before he was kissing you, trapping the word in between you. His hands cradled your face so delicately, like you were made of glass. You rested your hands on his chest, appreciating the muscle you felt under the suit.

His lips were so soft, and tasted faintly of the cherry chapstick you'd given him just the other day. He smelled of spicy cologne and his scruff tickled your face.

He pulled away, just enough to meet your eyes.

"I may be the most stubborn, selfish, miserable prick on this planet, but you make me feel like I'm so much more. And this may be the most selfish thing I ever do, but I don't fucking care anymore. I'm in love with you."

Your lips parted, eye searching his for any signs of deception. You couldn't find any.

"Im in love with you too, my miserable prick."

He choked on a laugh, his eyes glassy as he rested his forehead against yours. "God, I love you so fucking much."

"I love you even fucking more."

[nameless-jamie]

MAIN MASTERLIST

JAMIE TARTT x Y/N

Full Fics:

Offside Tension - finished

In which Jamie Tartt and the new assistant coach, Y/N, can’t stop teasing each other with their cheeky banter, but what starts as playful flirting quickly turns into something much more complicated.

Tartt's Corner - ongoing

In which Jamie Tartt and Y/N, a rising star in the football podcasting world, embark on a series of interviews that begin with sharp wit and teasing, but soon unravel into a tangled web of unexpected emotions.

Character Series:

Masterlist: JAMIE TARTT x FEM! PERSONAL ASSISTANT

Masterlist: Glimpse into the Future - Jamie Tartt x fem!PA reader

Masterlist: JAMIE TARTT x FEM! PASTOR RAEDER

Imagines/Short Storys/Drabbles/One Shots:

The Flirtation Game - Jamie Tartt x fem!reader

Blush - Jamie Tarrt x fem! shy receptionist reader

Blush part 2 - Jamie Tartt x fem! shy receptionist reader

The Setup - Jamie Tartt x fem! Rebecca's assistant reader

Three's A Crowd - Jamie Tartt x fem! poly reader + smut

Perfectly Blended - Jamie Tartt x fem! make-up artist reader

Meet Me On The Pitch - Jamie Tartt x fem!receptionist

Pec-tacular Performance - Jamie Tartt x wife reader

Mornings - Jamie Tartt x girlfriend reader

French With Benefits - Jamie Tartt x teammates sister

Princess of Pricks - Jamie Tartt x footballer reader

ROY KENT x Y/N

Imagines/Short Storys/Drabbles/One Shots:

Choked Up - Roy Kent x fem! Physio reader

Specials:

Jamie Tartt: Valentines Day Special - Masterlist 2025

In honor of Valentine's Day coming up, I am releasing several small fics specifically about Valentine's Day/Love. It's going to be a short series and it'll feature some characters you guys might already know like: Jamie's PA, Pastor! Reader

One-Bed-Trope Special - Masterlist 2025

This is going to be a bundle/short series of one-bed-trope stories of mostly Jamie Tartt or Roy Kent x reader! The one-bed trope forces two characters to share a bed, sparking tension, closeness, and romance.

A/N: I also love to take recommendations and I hope to do them justice. Btw English is my second language, but I grammar-check all my fics for the best experience.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Roy trying to deal with Jamie visiting James in rehab like Roy obviously doesn’t give a damn what Jamie does or doesn’t do as long as he keeps up with his training and anyway it’s Jamie’s decision, of course it fucking is, but for some inexplicable reason the whole thing has Roy’s blood boiling and it’s all he can do not to drive up to Manchester and murder a bloke so yeah, fuck the Diamond Dogs but could the Diamond Dogs maybe weigh in on this?

The Diamond Dogs watch him in silence for a minute. Then Higgins clears his throat. ”So, you need our help… not to kill someone?”

Roy is pleased they got this part. It’s all a bit of a mess, honestly. “Yeah. Jamie’s dad.”

Nate and Higgins exchange a look. “Uh,” Nate says. “Don’t? I mean, don’t, don’t do that. Don’t kill Jamie’s dad.”

And okay, it’s sounds straightforward enough put like that, but… “He’s fucking messing with Jamie’s head, and it’s doing my fucking head in, because I… I… Fuck. Because… “

“Because you care about him,” Higgins helpfully adds. “And Jamie is very lucky to have you, Roy, but… all you can do is to be there for him, in whatever way he needs you to be, not in the way you think you ought to be.”

And there’s a general murmur of agreement, and soothing noises as Roy smashes his fist open against the wall because if he can’t hit James fucking Tartt he still needs to fucking hit something, and eventually there’s a round of barking and nothing has changed but everything, strangely, feels a little bit better.

(Afterwards, when Roy and Nate and Higgins has all wandered – or in Roy’s case stomped –

off and it’s just Beard and Ted on a computer screen, Beard casually offers, “Maybe what Roy needs help with is not not killing Jamie’s dad.”

Ted immediately shakes his head. “No.”

“Okay. Just putting it out there.”

“And I appreciate that, Coach, but I think we need to stear clear of coldblooded murder.”

“Huh.” Beard nods his assent, but in his mind he resolves to leave their options open.)

[coolpointsetta]

“no, roy doesn’t like me like that.” jamie insists while the team is at the bar. “roy hates me still. love ain’t on the table.”

everyone shares a glance, unable to really believe that.

isaac watched as jamie wordlessly walked over to where roy was eating lunch and handed over his clementines. roy peeled them without breaking conversation with beard and nate, going so far as to peel the little white bits off too before handing the clementine back. everyday jamie does that, and everyday roy peels them without complaint. if that’s not love, isaac doesn’t know what is.

sam overheard as jamie talked for several minutes about something so random and inconsequential to their daily lives, but roy listened. he didn’t say a word, didn’t interrupt other than to add a little tidbit of his own to the story. there was a small smile on the corner of his lips and his eyes were bright. it didn’t matter how boring the topic was, roy wanted to hear it. if that’s not love, sam doesn’t know what is.

the whole team witnessed roy coming into the locker room before training and saw jamie wasn’t there. they all watched as roy began to pace around his office, head down and not speaking to anyone. that is, until jamie came strolling into the locker room a minute before training started, drinks in his hand; one for him and one for roy. jamie knows roy’s coffee order by heart. if that’s not love, the team doesn’t know what is.

keeley pointed out that whenever roy says something that causes the team to laugh, he always looks at jamie to see if he’s laughing. if jamie’s not, roy adds to the joke until he does. if that’s not love, she doesn’t know what is.

“and,” jan says pointedly. “the two of you were kissing in the boot room yesterday.”

“yeah, out of hate!” jamie defends even when everyone starts laughing uncontrollably.

[jamtartandsunshine]

Roys been helping his sister raise Phoebe for the little girls entire life. He’s lost count of how many times he’s woken up to the little gremlin standing beside his bed, or even creepier standing in the doorway, the faint light of the lamp he leaves on in the hallway for her eerily glowing behind her.

He’s used to it.

So when he wakes up to a faint knock and his bedroom door opening with a slow creak it’s muscle memory that has him shuffling over in bed and flinging back his quilt before he��s even cracked open his heavy eyes.

“Roy?”

The voice makes Roy jolt awake. It’s deeper, even in a soft whisper, but more than that is the tremble in the single word. The hesitation, the fear has Roy sitting up blinking against the familiar glow of the hall light.

Except this time he hadn’t turned it on for his niece, she was safe at home tucked into her own bed.

And yet he’d hesitated at the light switch after seeing his player safely to bed in the guest room. Something inside him making him flip the light on, almost as if he knew this moment would come.

“Jamie” Roy grunts his voice heavy with sleep “you okay?”

He looks so young standing in the doorway of Roy’s bedroom, wringing his hands nervously, his shoulders hunched in way that makes Roy frown at him, knowing it must be aggravating the bruised ribs that lay hidden beneath the borrowed hoodie the young man is wearing.

“Dunno” Jamie mutters nervously. “Sorry-I-I dunno what I’m doing…I’ll just…” he takes a step back, stumbling into the door.

“Jamie” Roy calls sitting up straighter reaching out to pull the quilt back further in silent invitation.

Jamies eyes widen at the gesture, looking over at Roy longingly but he doesn’t move. His hands drift under his hoodie, pulling the black material taunt as he fidgets anxiously.

Roy can’t help the tired sigh that slips out. Regrets floods through him as Jamie flinches back at the sound and Roy silently berates himself.

“It’s okay” he encourages tiredly patting the empty space beside him “I won’t fucking bite, let’s just get some sleep yeah?”

He watches as Jamie fights with himself but after a moment he clearly makes his choice as he slowly moves forward towards the bed.

“Sorry” Jamie whispers as he carefully crawls into Roy’s bed. Roy immediately notes that he’s trembling almost violently “M’ being fuckin’ stupid…just…I heard a car door slam and I dunno…” his voice drops as his unconsciously sinks closer to Roy “I got scared…S’ stupid”

“It’s not fucking stupid” Roy grunts laying back down, shifting onto his side so he can look at Jamie in the dim moonlight. “It’s completely fucking understandable after the shit day you’ve had”

Jamie makes a small noise of acknowledgment but he doesn’t relax.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?”

Jamie hesitates, the trembling picking back up a little “dunno” he almost whimpers. “I…I dunno”

It’s too much. Jamie’s scared and shaking, covered in bruises and all Roy can think of is how he’d flinched at every sudden movement that night, every sound.

The thing is, Roys been helping his sister raise Phoebe for the little girls entire life. He’s lost count of how many times he’s wiped away tears, or soothed nightmares. And while Jamie’s not Roy’s nine year old niece, he is a scared kid and Roy can’t just pretend Jamie’s not crying next to him and go back to sleep.

He shifts closer to Jamie. Slowly, and cautiously being careful not to startle him “don’t fucking laugh at me” he warns lightly “but do you want a cuddle?”

[roseandxanderfics]

Ted Lasso – Tired Reader x Body Worship (#20) – Roy Kent

You’re so tired your limbs feel heavy, your shoulders slumped as you sink onto the couch. Roy sees it immediately—the dark circles under your eyes, the slump in your posture—and something softens in his expression.

“Get up,” he grumbles, his voice gruff but gentle as he kneels in front of you, pulling your legs apart. “Let me take care of you.”

You protest halfheartedly, but he shushes you with a low growl. “No arguments. You’re mine, and I’m gonna make sure you remember that.”

He starts with your feet, strong hands massaging every ache and knot, his lips pressing soft kisses to your ankles and calves. “Always pushin’ yourself,” he mutters, his mouth brushing over your skin. “But I see you, love. I see how hard you work. You deserve this.”

He works his way up, his hands and lips coaxing every bit of tension from your body, his rough stubble scraping your skin just enough to make you shiver. By the time he reaches your thighs, you’re trembling, your head tipped back, a soft whimper on your lips.

“Roy…” you murmur, but he cuts you off with a gentle bite to the inside of your knee. “Shh, love,” he growls, his breath hot. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He worships every inch of you, his mouth and hands a promise that you’re his to care for. When he finally slides his fingers between your legs, it’s slow and deliberate—no rush, no urgency, just a steady, grounding devotion that leaves you boneless in his arms.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he says, his voice hoarse as he presses his forehead to your belly. “And I’m gonna spend the rest of the night reminding you.”

And as he finally slides his mouth over your most sensitive spot, you let go of everything—every worry, every doubt—because in this moment, with him, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Roy Kent + "I like when you're being so soft." 💚

8. "I like when you're being soft."

Prompt List

It was during lunch when Keeley asked you "So, are you and Roy celebrating Valentine's?"

It'd be your first Valentine's Day together since becoming a couple.

You replied, "Oh, um, I'm not sure to be honest."

"It's your first one together, isn't it?" Rebecca questioned.

"Yeah, but, um, I'm not sure if that's the kind of thing Roy does."

"Doesn't hurt to ask him," your boss responds.

You nodded and continued to eat your lunch.

Later on that night, you're at Roy's house. You're sitting on his couch, a sleeping Phoebe in-between you and him. As Disney's Enchanted plays on the television, you turn to Roy, "Roy?"

He looks up from his phone, "Yeah?"

"Do you like Valentine's Day?"

He thinks for a moment and replies, "I think it's stupid. Why is it only on that day that you shower your significant other in gifts and love and shit. Should be doing that anyway."

You snort, "Noted," and you turn back to the movie.

He sits up and pauses the movie, "Why'd you ask?"

You shrug, playing with a strand of Phoebe's hair as she sleeps, "Keeley asked if we were celebrating Valentine's together. I told her I didn't know how you felt about it, so I didn't know if we were."

"Is it important to you?"

"Doesn't matter-"

"It does fucking matter," he looks at you with soft eyes, "If Valentine's Day is important to you then we'll celebrate. Fuck what ever I think about it. I just want to make you happy."

You'd probably melt into a puddle right now if you could. You nod with a smile, "Okay. I do want to celebrate it, but only because this is our first one since getting together. Doesn't have to be anything big-"

"Nah fuck that. I'm bringing you to the fanciest restaurant and you'll wear something sexy and I'm going to show off how fucking fit you are to all the other rich pricks there."

You quietly chuckle, being mindful of Roy's sleeping niece, "That sounds fun...I like when you're being soft. You should be like this more."

He scoffs, "Don't fucking count on it," but you see the smirk on his face as he lays back onto the couch and plays the movie.

[devinwolfi]

The 6x9: a RoyJamie shortfic style

So, I've come up with a thing. A new drabble variant, intended specifically for those RoyJamie fans out there. May I introduce to you, The 6x9! And before you say anything... not like that. Or, maybe like that, I don't care. The 6x9, coming very obviously and very unoriginally from player numbers, is a half-drabble-ish form consisting of 54 words, which some of you may have already guessed if you remember your times tables. This is inspired by the 49-word 7x7s of the Blake's 7 fandom, popular during the printzine days.

Do you have what it takes to capture a meaningful moment in just 54 words? Can this moment happen whilst the lads are 69-ing? Possibly. I leave that up to you. Go forth and prosper, or something.

Steps to Writing a 6x9

Think of a thing you would like RJ to think, do, feel, say, etc.

Write it down! Don't be afraid to say too much or too little. Say what needs to be said. The rest comes next.

Trim it down, or beef it up, until it hits 54 words

Double-check to make sure the words are good, if not, rinse and repeat until they are

Be proud! You wrote a thing!

The AO3 tag can be found here

[hopefulromances]

could you do “You know, I think I believe in soulmates. How else could I have wound up with someone as perfect as you?” with roy and female reader please?

Roy entered the house, expecting you to rush up and say hello to him as he did. But you didn't. He heard some music playing but other than that the house was quiet. He found you eventually as he walked into the living room.

You were propped up on the couch, legs curled beneath you as you read your book. On the coffee table was two cups of tea, one cooler the other still steaming a bit. You looked up at him when you noticed him staring.

"Hey, babe," you greeted, putting a hand in your book to keep your place. "I made you some tea... you like Earl Grey, yeah?"

"Yeah, I do," he replied, walking toward towards the couch.

"Good, and I ordered us some food from that chinese place down the street. Didn't feel like cleaning up after dinner, is that alright?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Great, and I recorded this documentary on-"

You were cut off by Roy pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss. You let out a noise of surprise before kissing him back readily. When he pulled back you had a stupid grin on your face.

"What was that for?" you asked, voice light and amused.

"Today, at work, Keeley was going on about soulmates or zodaics or whatever the fuck," Roy started coming around to sit across from you. "And I thought it was some stupid bullshit but you know, I think I believe in soulmates because how else could I have ended up with someone as perfect as you?"

You practically melted at his words, eyes shining with adoration as you caressed his face. "You're a proper fucking dork, Roy Kent."

"Oi!" He shouted, batting away you hand. "I'm baring my soul to you here."

"I know you are! And it's cute! I think it's really sweet," You giggled.

"C'mere you." Roy wrapped his arms around you and pressed you into the couch, your book being thrown to the side.

[lunar-years]

For the first sentence of a fic thing:

The first time Roy thinks nothing of it; the second he thinks it a coincidence – but the third time, and catching the studied nonchalance on Jamie and Keeley’s faces, he begins to grow suspicious.

The first time Roy thinks nothing of it; the second he thinks it a coincidence – but the third time, and catching the studied nonchalance on Jamie and Keeley’s faces, he begins to grow suspicious. "And neither of you have seen it?" he repeats slowly, staring at each of them in turn with his most intense, patented glare, waiting for one of them to break.

Jamie's face remains completely stoic--impressive, actually. Usually he's first to crack. Keeley shrugs innocently and murmurs, "Guess you must've misplaced it again, babe...."

Roy snorts. Yeah. He'd believed that the first time, when he'd found it buried on Jamie's shelf buried amongst his many, many hair products. Roy must've confused the shelves one night. His eyesight is shit in the dark, after all. Then when he next went to use it, the thing was fucking broken, so okay. Shit happened. Order another, no big deal.

This time, though, the trimmer was brand-fucking-new. And he knows exactly where he placed it once he'd removed it from the packaging. "You know that this is important, right?" he growls. "I've got be at the club in like two hours. Looking professional."

He glances past their heads to catch a sight of himself in the mirror. He meant to get a real haircut, but after a few rounds of putting it off, it's gotten long enough now for the curls to really be coming back, in desperate need of a trim, and his beard looks utterly unruly to match. Altogether, he looks like he's an aspiring caveman instead of the fresh new manager of a Premier League team.

"Your beautiful curls aren't unprofessional," Keeley says crisply, arms crossed and looking all put out like he's offended her talking about his own damn hair. Jesus Christ. "Actually, Jamie found--"

Jamie is instantly at his side, holding out a bottle of curl shampoo. "Bit of this to reduce the frizz, lad, and some beard oil to tame you up a bit in the front...very professional, that. And if it happens to make you look dead sexy, too, well--" He shrugs and exchanges a look with Keeley, who nods encouragingly like he's really selling it. They're both ridiculous.

Roy rolls his eyes. "So you mean to tell me I haven't been able to shave in days because my trimmer keeps disappearing mysteriously, and Jamie just so happened to go shopping for fucking..." he takes the bottle Jamie's holding, "curl-defining shampoo in that same timeframe? By total coincidence?"

"Exactly!" Keeley says cheerfully.

"You know, two hours gives us plenty of time to try it out," Jamie adds nonchalantly, waving the shampoo. His eyes are fucking sparkling. He's gorgeous. He's always so fucking gorgeous. "Probably best if Keeley and I help you out. Gotta really massage it in to get the full effect. It will take all three of us. We should shower together!"

Keeley's heads bobs up and down enthusiastically.

"And my trimmer is--?"

"Oh hush," Keeley says, edging closer, "You can search for that later."

"...or not!" Jamie adds.

Yeah, he thinks, letting Keeley's deft hands work at tugging his shirt over his head. Or fucking not.

[queer-as-tartt]

“The fuck is this?”

“A playlist!” Jamie beams proudly. “In honor of our 4am training sessions!”

Roy stares at the screen, silent.

“I added a note for each song?” Jamie offers.

“You know what, fuck it. Let's go.”

---

“That is a terrible workout playlist,” Roy says after settling into a chair.

“I know, but all the songs are exactly 4 minutes! Like the time!”

Roy scrolls through the list.

“Huh.”

“It took forever! And who knew the song '4 Minutes' isn't actually 4 minutes?”

Roy chuckles before freezing.

“Wait- is this why you were so tired this morning?”

“...shut up.”

Jamie's notes for each song:

Pick U Up: Even though you pick me up

It's Time: Alright, let's go then

Starlight: Because there are stars, Roy. There are stars.

Sexual Healing: It's what we I could be doing instead

Drinking From the Bottle: Even if it's just water rip

Karma Chameleon: Just a bop. Don't read into it you prick.

Material Girl: This is the life I deserve, Roy, not running at 4am

No Surrender: As much as I hate you this, I won't quit, I won't give you the satisfaction

Deja Vu: I hate that I love these training sessions. Again, don't read into it.

Sin With a Grin: Me when I eat a kebab to treat myself for surviving this

Save Tonight: You know why I'll be gone tomorrow? I'll be in bed. Dead. Disregard everything else, yeah?

Three Lions '98: This is why I'm here and you know it.

The Final Countdown: Are we done yet???

White Flag: Have mercy, please. (this is clearly only here for the title shut up)

Daylight: What we're seeing by the end of each session. Also don't call Sharon

@royjamiebingo

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

For the drabble thing - ”I’m trying really hard not to say I told you so.”

from this prompt game.

”I’m trying really hard not to say I told you so.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re trying that hard, mate,” Jamie scoffed, temporarily removing the ice pack from his already swelling eye. “You just said it.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “You have to keep your hands up if you’re playing goalie.”

“I’m really sorry, Jamie,” Phoebe’s concerned face swam in front of Jamie’s good eye. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Phoebs,” Jamie said, pulling her into a tight hug with his unoccupied hand. 

“Uncle Roy always takes me for hot chocolate when I feel sad. Uncle Roy, should we take Jamie?”

“Fine, but you’re paying.”

“That’s fair,” Phoebe nodded and took Jamie’s hand. 

Hot chocolate helped with everything.

[abubblingcandle]

Augusnippets Day 3 - Thunderstorm - Ted Lasso

cw - panic attack

“I’ve got him.” “Are you …” “I’ve got him. You are fine Jamie. It didn’t hit you. But you are very wet. Let’s get inside where it’s dry. I’ve got you. Yes let’s hold on. I’ll get you inside I promise. I’ve got you.”

Here on AO3 @augusnippets

“That’s it I’m calling it. Oi! You lot back inside!”

“Thank god, freezing my tits off in this.”

“I’m never gonna be dry again.”

“We’re not stopping because of the rain. You need to be able to play in the rain. Football doesn’t stop because of the fucking rain.”

“Coach don’t want us to get zapped do he?”

“Odds of getting hit by lightning in the UK are about one in a million. And only three percent are fatal.”

“Thank you Jan Maas but the odds of getting hit by lightning inside are zero so get moving.”

“You heard the man!”

“Nate, whistle from at least three steps away.”

“Sorry.”

“Getting moving, this ain’t the time to be fucking bout!”

“What the …”

“Fucking hell!”

“Hell was that?”

“Was that …”

“Everybody move!”

“Jamie?”

“Jamie lad?”

“Tartt!”

“Jamie did it hit you?”

“Coach he’s shaking.”

“People don’t shake after being hit by lightning.”

“Not now Jan Maas.”

“Everybody inside! Now!”

“But Jamie.”

“Tartt is fine. But you lot won’t be if you don’t move.”

“Jamie. Lad I need you to get up.”

“Roy, we need to get him inside.”

“I know that!”

“…”

“Staring at me is not helpful.”

“I’ll keep the rabble inside but you need to get in too.”

“I can’t believe it burnt the grass.”

“…”

“Right, yes, yeah, priorities.”

“Jamie, muchacho, I want to see your face.”

“Dani go with Beard.”

“I am sorry coaches but I will not.”

“Dani …”

“Jamie and I will go inside together.”

“Fuck! Fine!”

“Jamie, please.”

“Tartt! Get up!”

“Jamie?”

“I’m going to have to drag him.”

“We can’t he’s scared. He’s shaking.”

“Dani, now.”

“Jamie … no no I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Dani …”

“But you need to get up. Can you get up?”

“We don’t have time! … ah fuck!”

“Coach are you ok?”

“Little prick lamped me.”

“I told you he was scared and you shouldn’t touch him.”

“Fucker!”

“Jamie I’m going to touch your shoulder.”

“As if that’s going to work. He got me right in the eye ball.”

“… Ok now I’m going to pick you up alright?”

“Why is he not hitting you?”

“Because I am being nice? … And not growling at him or people who are helping. Sorry coach that was very rude!”

“… fair point.”

“Jamie friend. I’m picking you up.”

“Dani do you …”

“I’ve got him.”

“Are you …”

“I’ve got him. You are fine Jamie. It didn’t hit you. But you are very wet. Let’s get inside where it’s dry. I’ve got you. Yes let’s hold on. I’ll get you inside I promise. I’ve got you.”

[thetarttfuldickhead]

They’re not quite friends. Not yet.

The January light is distant, and cold. Pale dawn over damp pavements as Jamie pulls his knees higher, and higher, and higher, just ‘cause Roy said so. “Once more,” Roy says, and Jamie doesn’t protest. Does it once more.

Roy doesn’t tell him well done. Roy doesn’t invite him for breakfast. “Go fucking shower,” Roy says, and tells him not to be late for training.

They’re not friends.

February, and if Roy brings a bottle of sports drink to silently hand Jamie once he’s finished with his last bout of jumping jacks that’s still not friendship. That’s… reason. Precaution. Ted will have his ear off if he breaks a player and fucking Tartt can’t be trusted to call it quits before he collapses, so.

In March, weeks after Zava, Jamie scores a brace against Wolves and when he walks off the pitch Roy gives him the tiniest of nods. Hard work paying off; he can acknowledge that. And Jamie nods back, curt, but then – before Roy can look away – there’s a smile growing on his face, bright and wild and—

Roy looks away.

It’s April and Roy goes down with a cold. Doesn’t call his sister, ‘cause she’d be a pain about it, and doesn’t call Ted, because Roy can get away with not doing that, and doesn’t call Keeley, because he doesn’t get to call Keeley anymore.

He doesn’t call Jamie either, because why the fuck would he. They’re not friends. Little prick will be ecstatic for a lie-in.

Painkillers and water and back to his bed and it’s a quarter to five when a furious pounding on his door wakes him once more. The knocking doesn’t cease, no matter Roy’s spat curses, and when he pulls the door open with murder in his mouth there’s Jamie, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Jesus, man,” Jamie says, somewhere between accusatory and alarmed. “The fuck happened to you? I was waiting, but you didn’t—”

“I’m ill,” Roy snaps. The admission should cost him something, maybe, but he manages to turn it around, twist it, and shape shame into admonition.

The bile rolls right off Jamie, who rolls his eyes. “Yeah, mate, I can see that.” He cocks his head to the side, hesitating. “Do you. Um. Can I get you anything? I should get you something, right?”

“No,” Roy say, because fuck no, and what is Jamie even doing here, why does he even—

“I’m making you tea,” Jamie declares, and he pushes past Roy and past Roy’s incensed but fever-weak protests.

They’re not friends, so it doesn’t make sense for Roy not to throw Jamie out, so Roy decides not to think about that as he sinks down on his coach and lets Jamie bring him tea.

Come tomorrow, they can both blame it on the fever.

[coolpointsetta]

“where are you going?” jamie asks as roy gets up. he’s scrolling through tik tok, but he had his headphones in so roy’s reading wouldn’t be interrupted.

he closes his book as he stands, marking the page with a bookmark. “i want to be alone.” roy huffs.

that’s a lie. it always is.

he doesn’t plan on going far, just from the living room to their bed. the third stair from the stop creaks as he steps on it, just like it always does.

he flops down on their bed and reopens the book, but he’s not reading any of words. he can’t focus on them.

he doesn’t want to be alone, he wants to be with jamie. they’ve spent all day together, waking up in each others arms and eating at the same table and going over the grocery list and then doing the actual grocery shopping and then going to a cafe for lunch and then coming back to their house (jamie’s house, but roy basically lives here) where jamie scrolled through tik tok while roy read.

jamie has never once expressed that he and roy spend too much time together. never once.

but roy is clingy, he is needy and he knows this, has lost a lot of relationships because of it. and he’s trying to be better. he’s trying to give his partners that distance they seem to need and he just can’t understand why.

so he’s been making sure to give jamie that alone time, make sure he doesn’t feel like he’s being suffocated.

the third stair creaks as someone steps on it.

a moment later, jamie walks through the doorway. he crawls on the bed, his body moving right over roy’s.

“what are you doing?”

jamie shrugs, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to roy’s lips. “being with you.”

roy growls, but it’s half hearted at best. “i want to be alone.”

“well, i don’t.” jamie doesn’t back off, just flops down on roy’s chest, their bodies melting together. “i want to be alone with you.” jamie says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

oh.

okay.

roy hopes his heart isn’t beating too fast, but jamie’s breathing evens out moments later.

alone with you.

roy could get used to that. this time when he reads, he follows each word as his hand glides gently across jamie’s back.

[jamiesfootball]

Augusnippets Day 4

Alternate prompt: wearing caretaker's clothes

cw: fluff. this has been a run of fluff content so far, but it won't stay like that

Summary:

Morning training is cancelled due to rain. Now Roy needs to stop being stubborn and wear Jamie's clothes

Here on AO3

"C'mon," Jamie whined. "Quit being a stubborn old fart and take it."

Roy’s fists clenched around his towel. "No."

"But you're dripping on my floors."

"Your floors are wood. They can take it."

"Well that's not very guest-like of you," said Jamie, who somehow had the gall to chastise Roy as if the last time he’d come around his gaff, he hadn’t drunk the rest of Roy’s lactose-free milk straight out of the carton and put the carton back in the fridge.

Without warning, the prick tossed the bundle of clothes at Roy's chest. They landed in a pile on the floor – joggers, socks, pilling sweater – because Roy's frozen fingers had been replaced with actual popsicles and refused to fucking move.

A torrential downpour. In November. When it was already freezing out.

Bundled head to toe in a fluffy, sherbet-coloured tracksuit, Jamie looked smug as a cozy cat. He tilted his head, screwing up his face in a cartoonish exaggeration of pity. "Suit yourself then. Suppose you don't want tea either."

Roy clenched his teeth, focusing all his energy into pretending he wasn't shivering.

"Don't want me clothes, don't want me tea. Probably don't want either of the fuzzy blankets I've got spinning in the dryer."

At least the pounding rain on the windows drowned out the sound of his teeth chattering.

"You know, it's still pretty early. Sun's barely up, hardly got anything done during training," Jamie beat around the bush with all the subtlety of someone trying to hack down a forest. "Suppose it's not too late to throw in the towel so to speak, call it a cheat day."

"Tartt-"

"I've got the good hot cocoa."

Roy snapped. 

"Fine. I’ll take the clothes. And the blanket. And when I come back downstairs, there better be tiny marshmallows waiting in my mug."

"There's a lad!" Jamie cheered. "One hot cocoa coming right up."