#“oh it means roy kent/keeley jones” yeah no for sure. i know. yeah. for sure. it totally does. mm hm.

[ditheringkestrel]

while we have everyone’s attention, I just want to point out that an underrated roykeeleyjamie trutherism is that keeley was literally wearing the letters “RKJ” in her hair DURING the struck by fucking lighting scene in 2x01

[crazyk-imagine]

Mended Relationships and the Future

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Fem!reader Characters: Fem!reader, Ted Lasso, Coach Beard, Keeley Jones, Jamie Tartt, Rebecca Welton, Isaac Mcadoo, Colin Hughs, Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Jan Maas, Roy Kent, literally all of the players (I just can’t think of their names) Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of pregnancies, mentions of reader not taking care of themselves (don’t do this), Jamie being sweet, reader and Jamie being dummies for a second, the team being so goddamn adorable, the team gives such family vibes, Jamie pretending the reader and he are engaged so he can stay with her, Ted and Beard are a powerful duo, this is my favorite TL fic that I’ve written Word Count: 3,783

A/N: Bits and pieces are based on this post

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You walk into the coach’s office with your hands in your hoodie pocket, clutching onto your phone to keep your hands busy. "Why did you wake me up and force me here, Ted?" 

"That's not a can-do attitude." 

Your expression doesn't change, if anything, you look more tired and drained. Another reason why the mustached man got you out of your home. "Ted." 

He sighs. "I wanted to check in on you, haven't seen you in a minute." 

You sigh. "I would prefer it if I were in my bed right now to be honest with you." 

"After we go out to lunch." 

"I want to be out of here before I run into..." You pause when you almost say his name. "You know what- I'm just- I’m gonna go." You barely turn around and hear the door open. 

It takes you less than a second to duck, which makes Ted feel a little bad but doesn't change his mind. 

He knows you two need to talk, especially when neither of you want to admit who broke up with who... or why it happened. 

Your emotions take a toll on your body again and you crawl towards the trash can, dry heaving until you feel it coming up (again). 

Beard kindly closes the door before anyone could walk in or hear you as Ted rubs the space between your shoulders. 

"How long have you been feeling like this?" 

You shrug. 

"How long?" He asks again. 

"A few weeks." 

Ted glances over at his long-time buddy with wide eyes. "Please don't get upset or take offense when I ask this but have you-" 

'Play dumb. Play dumb.' "Have I what? Use words, my brain isn't functioning off your noises." 

"Is there a possibility that you could be, you know, with child?" 

Your head snaps up. 'He knows.' "Why would you ask that?" 

"You have a few of the signs." 

"When was the last time you went to a doctor?" Beard chimes in. 

"A while ago." 

"So, you know?" 

"Whether or not I'm pregnant with my ex-boyfriend’s baby, who coincidentally told me he doesn't want kids just as I wanted to tell him I do. Yeah, it was right as I was about to tell him I am with child, which is why I've been dodging all of you but you and Beard here," you point to Ted's sidekick, who waves. "Dragged me out of my house." 

"Oh, honey." 

"Does he know?" Coach beard intervenes (again). 

"What do you mean?" 

"You said, you wanted to tell him... did you?" Ted politely asks. 

"He broke up with me, so I didn't give him my surprise, but I tell people it was mutual because he asked me if," the tears roll down your cheeks. "If it was okay. The fucking ex-cockiest player of all, asked me if I was going to be okay, so of course I said yes and then he left. We haven't spoken since." 

"He should know." 

"I know but he is scared to death to have his own kids. Why would I-" You scoot back and rest your head against the wall. "I want to go home. I have a few things coming later today and I need to be there for them. It’s time I start," you take a deep breath. “Getting things ready.” 

"We can get those later, I've gotta make sure you're okay right now." 

"I'd be better if this nausea, vomiting combo would go away." 

"Do you want me to have Keeley get you a ginger ale or something?" 

"Yeah." 

The door opens and there she is. She stares at you with the same look she gives you every time you throw up. "I had a feeling you were going to need this." 

-

Jamie sees what he imagines is a glimpse of you sitting in his coach’s office. He furrows his brows, wondering if it was really, you or if it's a figment of his imagination... again. 

It wouldn’t be the first time this week. 

-

"What?" She practically screams when Ted tells her on behalf of you, the Jamie not knowing part; she already knew you were pregnant, but she thought he knew and decided not to be in either of your lives. Now she feels a little bad about not being nice to him. 

You bury your head in your hands. "Shut up. Don't shout anymore, please." 

"Can you blame me? That's big fucking news babes. I thought he already knew." 

"Yeah, I know. Just, shut the door please." 

She doesn't, so you push yourself up and close the door. 

You sway as you take a step back, “oh, boy.” You can hear their voices but not hear their words. You feel yourself falling backwards before it fades to darkness. 

Ted and Beard catch you, carefully laying you down so the latter can call for an ambulance. 

Jamie steps closer to the office, sensing something’s happened. He opens the door and his jaw dropped as he’s about to ask what's going on until his eyes land on you. 

He immediately falls to his knees beside you, holding your face in his hands, not caring about the rug burn that’s going to ache later. "What happened?" 

No one responds. 

"What fucking happened?" 

Ted doesn't feel he should be the one to tell him and does all that he can to try and calm down his player. "She's fine, she probably didn't have enough to eat for breakfast, is all." 

"Bullshit. She's done that before and never fainted before." He stares down, studying your face. "So, why is she fucking unconscious?" 

-

You don't know anything that happened within the last few hours. 

All you know is that there is an annoying beeping sound coming from the side of you and your one hand is warmer than it normally is. 

You slowly open your eyes, blinking multiple times as you try to adjust to the lighting. You look for the source of the warmth and find Jamie, holding your hand with his head rested on his arm with his head facing you. 

The door opens and you find Ted peaking in. 

The way his shoulder sags in relief makes you feel bad. 

He tiptoes closer and lets you know what happened. 

"Why is he here?" 

He smiles as he peaks over at the sleepy man. "He didn't leave your side." 

"How did he know?" 

"He came in as we were calling for an ambulance. You scared him, he would barely let the paramedics help." 

"Isn't family only allowed in here?" 

"Apparently you two are engaged." 

You owlishly blink. "What?" 

"He said you two were engaged and he needed, no, no. That's not right, he demanded, there it is. He demanded to be in the room with you. I wasn't here for most of it. In the room I mean but I think he knows because he looked very shocked and then came in here when they told him he could and hasn’t left since." 

The coach ignores the fact that your heart monitor spikes as you ask, "he knows?" 

"I think so." 

Jamie moves a little in his sleep. 

"That's my cue to leave." 

"Wait- no. Ted. Come back." You glance between him and Jamie. "Ted," you hiss. "Come back here." 

Jamie squeezes your hand as he slowly begins to wake up. 

You look back at him just in time to hear the door close. You throw your head back and sigh. 

"Sweetheart?" 

You slowly turn your head to stare at him, your eyes becoming sad. 

His shoulders sag in relief as a slow sigh escapes his parted lips. "How are you feeling? I should- I should go get the doctor, shouldn't I?" 

You reach for him, grabbing onto him before he could leave. "Jaim. Jaim?" 

He doesn't turn around but settles back into his seat. 

"Jam-Jam?" 

A sniffle fills the room. 

"Jamie, look at me." 

He shakes his head. You tighten your grip on his arm, ignoring the familiar burning sensation in your nose. "Jamie, I need you to look at me." 

"Why?" He sniffles, staring at you with his now, bloodshot eyes. "Were you ever going to tell me?" 

"Don't throw that question my way, Tartt." 

"No more, Jam-Jam?" 

"I was going to tell you." 

"What? After the birth?" 

"I'm more tempted to now." You wipe the stray tear that tipped past your eye lid before he could see. "I initially planned on telling you right when you broke up with me but, we see how well that turned out." 

“Wh- is that what you had been trying to do the whole time?” 

You nod and lean forward, drawing him into you; needing to comfort him and be comforted all at once. 

He moves closer to you, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hand against his face; something he hasn’t felt in what feels like, forever. He hadn’t realized you were wiping away his tears. 

“I wanted to figure out the best way to tell you because, I mean we hadn’t exactly talked about us having kids before and I kind of figured that with everything that went on with your dad. I thought it was going to make it hard for you to think that you could be a good dad. Which, I think is stupid.” 

He opens his mouth to ask what you mean until you continue. 

“I mean, how could you not be a good dad because personally I think you’d be absolutely fucking phenomenal.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nod, “big time. You’re already doing better than your dad.” 

“What do you mean?” 

You smile and sniff. “You’re not making any of the stupid decisions he has.” 

“I made one.” 

You tilt your head. “What was that?” 

“I broke up with you. I just-” He pulls back from you (something he does when he feels like he’s undeserving of something). “I thought- I thought you were pulling away to break up with me and you couldn’t figure out how to do it, so I-” 

“So, you thought breaking up with me first, was a better option?” 

He nods, scratching his head. 

“Come closer.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he weakly argues. 

“Come here.” 

He scoots the chair closer. 

“I need you to be honest with me when I ask these questions, okay?” 

He nods. 

You sigh through your nose and reach for his hand. “Is there any part of you that does not want to be a part of either of our lives?” 

“No.” 

“Do you want to be with me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you going to leave any time soon?” 

“The fuck do you take me for? I’m not going to leave you ever,” he stands up and bends down, staring into your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. “Okay? I love you too fucking much to let you go again. I hated being away from you.” 

“Same here but, I’m really happy you’re here… even if it was because I fainted.” 

“Speaking of, why did that happen exactly?” 

“I- well- I hadn’t had anything-” 

“Let’s just cut the bullshit, have you been taking proper care of yourself since we were separated?” 

You shamefully shake your head. 

He doesn’t show his disappointment, but you know it’s there. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle. 

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry. Isn’t that- crying is stressful on the baby, ain’t it?” 

“Not so much- I mean, maybe?” 

“Okay, well.” He grabs your hands, bringing your attention to him. “Let’s take a few deep breathes so we can calm down for Baby Tartt.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Do do do doo.” 

“Listen to you. Guess I rubbed off on you, eh?” You roll your eyes, not believing that for a second. “Does any of what you’ve said within the last two minutes sound anything like what your dad could say?” 

“Not in the least bit.” 

“See, exactly. It further proves you’re different and how much you’ve grown from the cocky man who couldn’t care less about anyone else.” 

“Hey. That’s someone we don’t speak of.” 

“Of course,” you salute him. You two can barely keep your amusement to yourselves and break into a fit of smiles and giggles. 

He stares at you, watching as you wipe your cheeks and leans up, kissing your forehead before placing his on top of your head. “I was,” he hesitates to finish his sentence. 

You nod and cup his cheek, letting him know you’re there, a simple gesture to let him know you want to hear what he has to say. 

“-so scared when I saw you lying there unconscious.” 

Your heart drops at the way his voice cracks. “Jaim. Jaim. Look at me.” 

He shakes his head. 

You don’t push any further and instead opt for bringing him closer, letting him rest against your chest, squeezing you in a hug. 

It takes a few minutes before Jamie manages to calm himself down enough to revert back to your adorable boyfriend. “Oh, shit. I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?” He asks, now scared to touch you. 

“No. You didn’t.” 

You hold out your hand for him, “do you trust me?” 

He nods, “’course I do.” 

“Give me your hand.” 

He slowly inches his hand closer and closer to you. 

You huff and reach for him. “Are you ready?” 

He doesn’t move or make a noise as you place his hand over your belly. “Am I supposed to be feeling anything?” 

“Other than knowing the fact you are going to be a father soon enough, no. I’m not that far along for us to feel any kicking.” 

He bends down as a breath of relief escapes him. “Thank god, I thought I was supposed to feel kicking or something and I didn’t, which scared me the hell out of me because I thought he already hated me.” 

“He?” 

“I mean, hello,” he gestures to himself. You roll your eyes and take your hand back from him. “You’re so going to be cursed with girls.” “How can you say that?” 

“Have you met yourself?” 

“I have and we’re actually quite happy together, sorry for the late notice, sweetheart.” 

You close your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. 

Ted peaks his head in through the door. “I see you two have talked things out? Hopefully, if not. No pressure. Well, maybe a little seeing as I have everyone waiting in the hall.” 

“Everyone?” You repeat. 

The coach nods. “Give me second.” He looks back over his shoulder, pretending to count, “one, two, four. Yep, everyone.” 

You place your hand on your forehead. “Suddenly the thought of everyone knowing makes me nauseous.” 

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” 

You turn your head and look at your favorite person ever… for now. 

“If we can get through the team being little shits and the press making unnecessary comments about our relationship, we can get through the team knowing.” 

“We can?” He gives you an affirmative nod, “we can.” 

“We can.” 

“Atta girl.” 

“Alright, guys. They said okay,” Ted waves everyone in. 

“I suddenly realize how many of you there actually are,” you comment. 

Sam, Dani, and Colin chuckled. 

“As captain, I feel like it’s my duty to ask,” Isaac leans closer to you, talking to you in a softer tone than his normal one. “How are you?” 

You smile, “I’m better now.” 

“Good, that’s what we like to hear. Ain’t that right, team?” 

“Yes, coach!” 

“And now I’m scared.” 

“Oh, don’t be scared especially when you’re carrying a special bundle of joy,” the mustached man points out. 

“Oh fuck.” 

“Something the matter, Roy?” Ted asks. 

“Yeah. She’s carrying Tartt’s baby.” 

“I’m pretty sure they covered that topic back in school but continue.” 

“There’s going to be a baby brought into the world soon.” 

“Yeah?” Ted glances over at Beard, who shrugs. 

“With his blood coursing through its veins,” he points to your ex-not-ex-boyfriend. 

It’s quiet for three seconds before everyone groans and rolls their eyes, they think about what it could be like with a baby Jamie. 

“Hey, hey now. Let’s not think about something as crazy as that because this baby is a good thing.” 

“Yeah?” Jamie whispers, glancing back at Ted, not letting go of your hand. 

“Yes, it is,” the coach nods. “You’re going to go through one of the many joys life brings you.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Fatherhood… that, may or may not mix with a lot of uncles and two aunts who decide they want to spend time with the little booger.” 

“Would one of those many figures happen to include you, coach?” 

“No,” Ted shakes his head. 

“Not at all, Beard.” 

The door opens and heads turn. 

“Hi, I’m just here to-” The nurse takes note of the number of people in the room. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask anyone but the father and mother of the child to leave.” 

“Is it not believable that a woman could have this many boyfriends?” Jan asks. 

“Shut up.” A shoe aimed at his head, hits the wall and lands on the floor with a thud. 

The guys decide it’s time for them to leave, which lets you two see the few things the team has gotten, and it makes you tear up, freaking Jamie out. 

And he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but it was really nice of them team to do. 

“Should we open some presents?” Ted softly asks, placing one in your lap. 

“Didn’t the nurse just kick you out.” 

“I’m your dad.”

 “We’re your dads,” Beard adds. 

You glance over at Jamie. 

He shrugs, not completely hating the idea of having these two around. “I would’ve liked to know about my new parents beforehand. What’s next? Roy’s my uncle.” 

“No, he’s a granddad more than anything,” Jamie chimes in. 

You wipe your cheeks and smile at him before gently pulling the tissue paper out of your way. You pull out a onesie that looks normal, until you unfold it and inspect it. You sniffle as you hold it up for Jamie to see. 

He doesn’t realize why you’re crying until he reads what the back of it, “Tartt 9”. He doesn’t feel the tears trickling down his cheeks until you wipe his cheeks. 

“Jaim?” 

He shakes his head and pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head, over and over again. 

Ted smiles behind his phone. 

“We should probably give them some time alone.” 

“You think?” He asks. 

Beard nods. 

Ted sighs, “okie dokie.” 

They hold their hands up to wave, only to find your face squished against Jamie’s chest, barely able to wave them off. 

You and Jamie wind up opening every one of the other gifts, enjoying each other’s company after being apart for so long. 

“I think we should name it Jamie.” 

“Baby Tartt is not an it, it’s a baby,” you argue. 

“And we’re not naming them Jamie.” 

“Why not? It’s a good name.” 

“I’m not saying it’s a bad name but, we want our little pumpkin to be able to grow into their own, right?” 

“We-” He sighs, thinking about it, already knowing you were right. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” 

“Was that everything?” 

“I don’t know.” He glances over, finding a bag left on the floor, partially hidden so you couldn’t find it unless you were really looking. He grabs it and sets it in your lap. “What do you think it is?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug and move it closer for him to open (feeling you’ve done enough of the unveiling with presents). 

He pulls a figure out of the bag. “A bike?” Jamie brows furrows together in confusion until he thinks about it. The light bulb goes off in his head, everything clicking together, and he smiles. 

“Is there a card?” 

“I hope so.” 

Now you’re confused. 

He pulls out what looks like a plain index card. “Free one learn how to ride a bike pass.” He chuckles. 

“I’m lost.” 

“Remember how I told you I had something funny I wanted to tell you a couple months ago, but I couldn’t because the shithead was making me train, even though Ted gave us the night off.” He huffs and sits back in the chair. 

“Okay, I don’t need the background information, just give me the synopsis.” 

“Right,” he straightens his back. “I taught Roy how to ride a bike in memory of his granddad.” 

“You did?” 

“Yeah,” he nods with a smile. 

“And he let you?” 

“Not without trying to hurt me but I did it.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” 

“Yea- really?” 

“Of course, I’m proud of you. You taught the world’s grumpiest man how to ride a bike and lived to tell the tale.” 

“I guess you’re right.” 

“Of course, I’m right.” 

“I hope the baby doesn’t get your cockiness.”

“My cockiness? What about yours?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” 

“You lie.” 

He fake gasps and slaps his hand on his chest. “I take offense to that.” 

“I’m not sorry.” 

“You should be. We don’t want this one’s first word to be a lie.”

“It wouldn’t, don’t be mean,” you whine. 

“I’m not. I’m just being me.” 

“Yeah, and that’s mean.” 

He smiles and shakes his head. 

You start folding a few of the blankets the guys got, feeling the need to do something. “Hey, look. They got one with sharks.” 

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.” 

“Girls can like boy things too.” 

“Do you really want to be asked if we have a boy or a girl every day.” 

“Don’t be mean.” You smile, holding it close to your chest. “I like it. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo. Baby Tart, do do doo doo.” 

He groans, “please stop.” 

“Never.” 

You stiffle a yawn. 

“Come on,” he takes away the few things on your lap and blanket from your hands. “You need to rest.” 

“But I don’t want to.” 

He smiles at the whining tone in your voice. “I know but it’ll do the two of you well.” 

“Fine,” you tell him with a pout. “But sit by me. I… I’ve missed you.” 

“How can I say no to my girlfriend?” Jamie settles beside you and lets you lay against his chest. 

As you sleep and he’s bored, searching through the hospital’s shitty channels, he stumbles upon something interesting, an old childhood show he used to watch. 

You open your eyes to hear the song you briefly sang earlier. 

“Doo doo. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo.” 

“Jam-Jam?” 

“Hey,” he clears his throat. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better. What were you doing?” 

He shrugs. 

You smile and snuggle back into him. “I won’t tell anyone.”

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

And All the Pieces Fall Right Into Place

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 2

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

3.7k words

Warnings: Language, adults drinking adult things, a smidge of slut-shaming, sexual references, immature adults, Roy being Roy

Holi Dani! I’m back in town. Let’s get together tonight! I miss you!

Under April’s watchful eye, I typed my text to Dani Rojas and hit send. I knew full well that the Greyhounds had a game; Keeley Jones had sent me their schedule, after all. Step one of the most insane idea in the world was officially in motion.

“Remember, you can’t seem too desperate,” April reminded me as we lounged in my living room. “We don’t want it to be obvious that you’re fishing for an invite. Just be really subtle, like ‘Oh you have a match? Wow I’ve never been to one.’ You know?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know, I know.”

Bzz!

Dani’s quick response would have been surprising if it was anyone else; but Dani Rojas was the friendliest, most accommodating person I knew. Since we first met at a party for some tequila brand back in L.A., Dani and I immediately clicked. Our paths crossed frequently enough in London, and I considered him one of my favorite people in England. We bonded over our shared desire to find good pan dulce in London and how much we missed our big, crazy families when we were away. It wouldn’t be too hard to finagle an invitation to his game, right?

Aww chula, I wish! I’ve got a fútbol match tonight.

Just as I was crafting a text that would score me a ticket to Nelson Road, another message came in.

You should come!

“Well, shit,” I laughed, showing April my screen. “That was almost too easy.”

My assistant- sidekick and soulmate, I preferred to call her- chuckled and started typing on her own phone. “I’ll let Keeley and Lanie know that our mission is complete. And I’ll take care of getting your ticket. All you have to worry about now is looking hot and having a good meet-cute.” She paused, pursing her lips. “You and Kent… you two can flirt with each other, right?”

“The heck’s that supposed to mean?” I snorted as I texted Dani back, letting him know that I would love to go to his game.

She shrugged. “You two just didn’t seem to like each other very much.” Her matter-of-fact tone held no emotion. “You’re going to have to pull some Daniel Day-Lewis level acting for this to work.” April grinned at me. “I mean, your goal is to get an EGOT, right? Maybe your Oscar will be for acting.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as Dani texted me back, all excitement. “Well, just call me Meryl, because that’s how good my acting will have to be to get people to think I’m into someone like Roy Kent.”

April’s face softened. “You’ve gotta admit,” she said slowly, “he’s pretty cute.”

“Cute?” I rolled my eyes. “I mean, sure, I could see how he could be considered handsome by some people. I could totally see him with models and shit. But if you’re worried about me falling for the guy, don’t stress.” I slouched further into my couch. “No way in hell am I falling for Roy freaking Kent.”

~

Keeley grinned and showed her phone to Roy. “She got Dani to invite her!” she hissed to the manager as they ate lunch together in his office. “Everything’s going according to plan.”

“Yeah,” Roy muttered flatly as he poked at his food. “Great.”

What the fuck had he gotten himself into? He hated this kind of shit, the paparazzi and attention. And he hated her party-girl lifestyle, always out at clubs. And what the fuck were they supposed to talk about on the dates Keeley would surely make them go on? He liked football, hanging out with Phoebe, reading… What did she like? Flirting with scrawny rockstars? Stealing her best friend’s boyfriend (according to the tabloid he’d noticed at the store that morning)? Her Malibu Barbie Dreamhouse, or wherever it was she lived when she was in Los Angeles? And he was going to have to endure months of this. Fucking hell.

But it was for Keeley, he reminded himself as he watched the blonde munch happily on her salad. She’d asked him to do something, something she knew he’d hate, and he said ‘yes’ without complaint. That had to mean something, right? Surely that would earn him a few points with her, maybe even enough to forget about the whole ‘pick one’ shit he and Jamie had pulled. She’d definitely see how above and beyond Roy was willing to go for her and remember why she had loved him, wouldn’t she?

Besides, seeing him with an admittedly gorgeous popstar on his arm might even make Keeley a smidge jealous.

“It’s gonna work.” Keeley’s reassuring voice penetrated his thoughts. “I know it is. You wouldn’t believe who’s gotten away with this scheme. You know that actor from-”

I’m drunk in the back of the car and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

Roy stood, frowning in the direction of the suddenly bolstering changing room. “What the fuck is that?”

Keeley grinned as she hopped up and followed his gaze to the sight of Jamie and Colin and a few other guys shaking their hips and singing along. “Your new girlfriend,” she whispered with a wink. “Come on, Roy, you know this one. It was only her big hit last summer.”

“Hmmph.” Yeah, he recognized the catchy tune that still seemed to always be on the radio all these months later; Phoebe’d made him play it about twenty times in the car just that week. But why the fuck was his team screeching it while they got ready for their afternoon training?

Jamie’s smile widened at the sight of Roy and Keeley. “Oi! Did ya hear Dani’s news?”

“What’s up?” Keeley asked, as if she didn’t know exactly what Jamie was about to say.

Sure enough, Jamie pointed in the direction of Colin’s little speaker, where the music was blasting from. “She’s comin’! To our game tonight!” He looked just about ready to do a cartwheel. “Apparently, she and Dani are buddies, and he invited her to watch us! Can you believe it?”

“You’re kidding!” Keeley gasped convincingly, smacking Jamie on the arm. “How the fuck did he never tell us they’re friends?” She glanced at Roy before turning back to Jamie. “D’you reckon he’ll get her to go out with you boys tonight? Or is she too famous for our little Greyhounds?”

Richard appeared over Jamie’s shoulder. “I hope so,” he sighed. “She recently broke up with her boyfriend.” He waggled his eyebrows. “She’ll be looking for a rebound, no?”

Roy rolled his eyes. Shit, was this going to be an even bigger distraction than he thought, he realized. For the millionth time since he stood in Keeley’s office and signed the NDA, Roy was regretting this decision. But when he saw the excitement shining in Keeley’s eyes as she watched the Greyhounds dance around, he couldn’t help the soft sigh he let out.

Fuck, he hoped it was worth it.

~

I took one last look in the mirror. Little jean skirt, black leather jacket, boots. April had assured me that the outfit was perfect: casual enough for a game, stylish enough for a night out with the team, hot enough to catch the attention of Roy Kent. Or at least, look like I’d caught the attention of Roy Kent.

The car ride to Nelson Road was quicker than I’d expected, and the walk to my seat was a blur of phones taking photos and my name gasped out of people’s mouths. I wondered if, with all the time I’d be spending at Nelson Road in the coming weeks, the reaction would die down. Or if, like Keeley Jones had implied towards the end of our first meeting, my presence would lead to a spike in attendance.

She seemed to be hoping for the latter, because she made sure my seat was very visible: right by the pitch, close to the Greyhounds’ dugout. Even if I wasn’t the biggest soccer fan, I had to admit it was exciting being so close to the field; I quickly snapped a few pictures to send to my family, who would appreciate the view much more than I ever could.

When the team came out, I joined in the enthusiastic cheers and screams, shouting Dani’s name loudly. His face lit up when he spotted me, and I saw him nudging his teammates and pointing in my direction. Keeley had warned me about their reactions; indeed, they were grabbing each other and making faces similar to the ones my nephew made when he saw Mickey Mouse on his first trip to Disneyland.

“Whistle!”

The two syllables slammed against my ears. There he was, no longer in the black leather jacket I’d met him in, but instead wearing a dark blue Greyhounds jacket. One of the players- Jamie Tartt, I remembered- started animatedly talking to a very bored-looking Roy Kent. With one of those eyerolls that I knew I’d have to get used to seeing, he turned in my direction.

Despite my initial instinct to roll my own eyes, I instead forced myself to hold his gaze for a moment. A horrified thought suddenly struck me: Could Roy Kent pull this off?

Then his mouth tugged upwards in the corner, forming an admittedly sexy little smirk. In return, I let my eyes wander down his figure, taking in the way his jacket hugged his muscular arms and the way his pants hugged thick thighs. Damn. If I hadn’t already met him, if I hadn’t already discovered what a cranky and irritable grouch Roy Kent was, I’d probably be attracted to his smug expression and athletic build. He wasn’t my usual type, but I couldn’t deny that he was, frankly, kind of gorgeous.

He gave me a curt nod of acknowledgement before turning back to his team and shouting at them, his sharp yell reminding me that I was here for a reason. Remembering Keeley’s instructions, I pulled out my phone and snapped a couple of photos of the pitch, making sure to get Roy and the other Greyhounds in the frame. I quickly posted the picture to my social media and tagged Dani in it, as Keeley had suggested.

With the “official business” out of the way, I relaxed in my seat and prepared to at least appear to look like I was enjoying the game. Figuring that there were eyes and cameras pointed in my direction, I made myself steal several glances at Roy Kent; he must have been thinking the same thing, because more than once, he was already looking over at me.

~

Roy sighed when he looked over at the corner where most of the Richmond players were assembled, practically falling over themselves to get in a word with her.

It was a bit perplexing, honestly. These men were professional athletes. They regularly dated models and actresses. But this singer, this popstar, had them falling all over themselves trying to chat her up. Sure, Roy thought, her level of fame was pretty fucking impressive. She’d won a couple of Grammys, her songs were constantly on the radio, and he’d heard her latest tour was practically impossible to get tickets for. So maybe some of their fawning was justified.

He glanced at his phone, wishing he was at home in bed already. With a deep exhale, he made a beeline for Dani; the sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could leave, he reasoned.

“Oi,” Roy grunted as he approached the striker. He nodded towards the swarm of players, doing his best to keep his trademark disinterested expression on his face. “You going to introduce me to your friend?”

Dani’s eyes sparkled knowingly. “You too, eh Coach?” He chuckled and clapped Roy on the shoulder. “Vámonos.”

Roy’s heart stuttered in his chest as he followed Dani to the corner of the club, where he saw, of all people, Jamie sitting close to the singer, murmuring something in her ear. She laughed at whatever he said and responded with a smile on her face. Her eyes flickered to Roy as he approached; was that… disappointment he saw?

If it was, it was only there for a fraction of a second. Just like on the pitch, her eyes trailed over his figure, a small smirk forming on her lips. If he didn’t know better, Roy would be intrigued by the boldness on her face, the uninhibited way she eyed him. In the back of his head, he couldn’t help feeling a bit smug when he saw the way Jamie’s brows furrowed as the striker looked back and forth between the two.

She kept her eyes on Roy as she stood up and stepped away from Jamie and the guys. She batted her lashes at Roy before turning to Dani, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

Shit, Roy thought. She’s good at this.

“Chula,” Dani said, smiling at his friend. “I want you to meet my coach, Roy.” He turned to Roy. “Coach, this is-”

Roy reached out and took her hand in his and shaking it slowly. “Only an idiot doesn’t know who you are,” he hummed, raising his eyebrows. “You caused quite a stir with my team, you know. You enjoy the match?”

She nodded, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go. “I did. Sorry if I was a bit of a distraction.”

“I think you actually brought us luck.” Fucking hell, when was the last time Roy flirted like this? Was he doing it right? “You should come again sometime.”

Her smile widened as she tilted her head coyly. “Well, if that’s an invitation, maybe I will.”

Desperate to end this charade, Roy cleared his throat. “Have these fellas bought you a drink yet?” When she shook her head, he rolled his eyes playfully. “Fucking hell, guess I need to remind them what fucking manners look like.” With that, he placed his hand on her lower back and nodded towards the bar. “Come on, then.”

She winked at Dani and let Roy lead her to the bar, keeping that coy smile plastered on her face. Once they had ordered, she looked up at him, still smirking.

“Kent,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Watch your fucking hands.”

Sure enough, Roy realized that his hand was dangerously low, just above the curve of her ass. Shit.

Despite his embarrassment, Roy scoffed, although he did remove his hand. “You’re a natural at that flirting shit,” he all but sneered. “Then again, I’m sure you’ve had plenty of practice, with all your shaggy little rockstar pricks.”

Her eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second as the bartender slid over her drink. Still, she kept her expression neutral; to anyone watching them, she looked as though she was enjoying their conversation. “Oh, I’m sorry.” Her snarky tone contrasted with her sweet face. “Tell me more about the women who sell stories about your dick to the press and steal your watches?”

“Oi,” Roy growled as he picked his beer up off the bar. “That happened once, alright?”

“You mean it got into the papers once,” she grumbled, sipping her drink. She raised her eyebrows at him. “So, what’s the plan?”

Roy frowned. “Fuck d’you mean? We’re doing the fucking plan.”

She shook her head. “Like, are you going to ask me to dance? Are we taking off and going to a restaurant or some shit?” Roy avoided looking at the way her lips wrapped around her little straw as she sipped her drink. “Keeley said it’s up to us, just no going home together on the first night.” The little snort she gave would’ve been adorable coming from anyone else. “As if.”

“Well, I guess if we dance, we don’t have to fucking talk,” Roy muttered, doing his best to mirror her amiable expression; it was challenging, he realized, looking cheery while feeling irritated as hell. He downed the rest of his beer and practically slammed the empty bottle on the bar. “One song, alright? I don’t usually fucking dance.”

“Trust me,” she hummed, finishing the last of her drink. “For me, you’d make an exception.” Flashing what he assumed was her most winning smile, she took Roy’s hand and led him to the crowded dance floor.

On the dance floor, she pressed her body close to his, her movements teasing and natural. Everything about her- her hips, her smile, her eyes on his, the way her hands played with her hair flirtatiously- would have normally had Roy’s chest feeling tight with attraction.

She brought her lips to his ear, looking as though she was probably flirting with him. “I swear to God,” she hissed. “If you get a boner, I will fucking kill you.”

Yeah. Right.

~

Officially introduced? Check.

Flirted? Check.

Had a drink together? Check.

Danced? Check.

We’d gone through enough of the motions. There was no way I was going to spend more time with Kent than I had to; we’d be thrown together enough in the coming weeks once the “dating” began. Besides, Keeley had warned me that Roy didn’t like to stay out late anymore. He was probably even more ready to call it a night than I was.

Sure enough, after a couple of songs, he gave a small grunt and looked at his phone.

“Should get going,” he grumbled.

“Why?” I huffed, fluffing my hair. “Will you fall asleep right here on the dance floor soon?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a real ball of fucking sunshine?”

“That’s an improvement from nightmare.” I exhaled and tugged at his jacket. “C’mere.”

Roy’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“So I can say goodnight, you idiot. Someone’s bound to take a photo of this.” Not waiting for an answer, I pulled his face close to mine and planted a small, lingering kiss on his cheek. His face was warm, a little itchy from his beard, and now carried a little red mark from my lipstick. I smiled up at him and released his jacket. “Goodnight, Roy Kent,” I hummed.

He cleared his throat and gave a curt nod. “Right. Goodnight, then.” He reached down and gave my hand a squeeze before turning and walking away, his movements stiff and almost robotic.

Fighting the urge to childishly wipe my mouth on the back of my hand, I returned to the corner where the Greyhounds were gathered. Dani’s face lit up when I slid into the booth next to him and stole a sip of his drink.

“Did you have fun dancing with Coach Kent, amor?” he asked, his voice dripping with teasing.

I smirked at my friend. “He was very nice,” I declared with a playful eyeroll.

“Roy doesn’t normally dance,” one of the players- Colin- informed me. “And he usually doesn’t stay out this late.” He waggled his eyebrows at me over his beer. “Wonder why he came out tonight.”

Putting on my best coy smile, I leaned forward. “What about when his girlfriend comes out with you all? Doesn’t he dance with her?”

Immediately, all the men at the table shook their heads. “Roy doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Isaac, their captain, clarified. “He actually hasn’t really dated anyone since….” He glanced around the table. “Well, since he broke up with his serious girlfriend, Keeley.”

“Keeley?” I echoed without thinking. “Keeley Jones?”  

Dani’s smile widened. “Oh, how do you know Keeley?”

Shit.

“I don’t,” I lied. “But I’ve heard of her. We’ve got some mutual friends. She’s a model, right?”

Isaac nodded. “She’s moved into PR, actually. Runs her own firm, works with the club. She’s brilliant.”

“And once upon a time, she and Roy were our OTP,” Colin sighed dreamily. “But they’re good friends now. Them and Jamie and their weird little dynamic.”

“Jamie dated her too,” Dani explained. “Before her and Roy got together.”

I nodded, slowly piecing together the story. “Jamie dated her too?” I chuckled, wondering why I felt like I should have been told all this ahead of time. “Gosh, she has a type, doesn’t she? Dating two guys from the same team.” I put my hands up and quickly added, “Not that I have the right to judge. I dated bandmates once, did not turn out well for the band.”

The guys laughed good-naturedly. As I was about to feign interest and ask another question about Roy, Jamie Tartt approached, plopping down on my other side and setting down a drink in front of me, his arm behind me on the booth casually.

“Finally escaped from Grandad, eh?” he joked, eyes twinkling playfully.

Damn. Normally, his pretty-boy looks and admittedly annoying swagger would be exactly what I wanted, and we’d probably have a fun couple of weeks in each other’s beds. But I needed to stick to the plan; besides, wasn’t I done with guys like this?

Offering the athlete nothing but a polite smile, I turned back to Dani and took my friend’s hand. “It was fun watching you play today,” I hummed. “Think I could come again? Become a Greyhounds fan?”

“Yes!” Dani kissed my forehead. “Please, amor, come to more of our games.” He nudged me. “I’m sure Coach Kent would not mind one bit.”

Hoping my smile was shy rather than obviously fake, I giggled. “He did tell me I brought you all luck,” I said slowly. I batted my eyelashes at Dani. “Don’t suppose you could pass along my phone number to him? I’d love to know which game he’d like me to bring luck to.”

The table fell into a dead silence, all eyes wide and mouths agape. After the guys exchanged looks that could only be described as utterly shocked, Colin finally cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “are you asking Dani to give Roy your phone number?”

Feigning innocence, I nodded. “Sure,” I chirped. “Is that alright? You all said he’s single, so…” I shrugged and turned to Dani. “Unless you think it’s too weird, chulo?”

“No, no,” Dani assured me. “I can give him your number.” He tilted his head at me. “You… you liked Coach Kent, then?”

Nope. Not at all. Not one fucking bit.

“Sure,” I giggled, hating myself. “I mean, as much as I can like a man after one drink and a couple of dances.”

His smile lit up the entire club as he lifted his drink. “Well, then Coach Kent is a lucky man. I will give him your number tomorrow, how does that sound?”

I tapped my glass to Dani’s. “Sounds like a plan.”

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @hotleaf-juice @emmy2811 @captainorbust-blog @preciousbabypeter @shion-ah @royalestrellas

[daydreamgoddess14]

Poker Face

MASTERLIST

Ted Lasso / Rebecca Welton, fluff, romance, smut. Ignores events after 3.11.

From a prompt: Everybody knows that Rebecca is in a terrible mood today, and Ted is having the hardest time keeping a straight face because he knows why. (Or vice versa).

~~~~~~~~

“Abort, abort!” Roy muttered under his breath as he passed Beard on the stairs to Rebecca’s office.

“Why?”

“Just fucking abort, whatever it is you think you need to go up there for - you do not need to go up there. Fucking trust me.”

“I’m sure you’re overreacting, buddy.” The coach said with a firm nod and continued up the stairs.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He said, but Beard was already halfway up. He made his way back to his office and slumped into his desk chair. “Do I look like I fucking overreact to shit?” He asked loudly. Quizzical and fearful looks passed back and forth between Ted and Trent.

“Umm…”

“I’m gonna say…” they both shrugged.

“No?”

“Yeah, I mean I was going to say no, of course. Of course you don’t overreact Royo, why would you think that?” Ted asked, relieved that he and Trent had apparently selected the correct answer.

“Beard said I was overreacting.”

“To a situation in particular?” Trent queried.

"Blondie has just gone absolutely tits at me cos I haven't booked a table yet for Keeley's birthday. Proper went off at me. I fucking told Beard not to bother if he wanted to keep his head. He told me not to overreact. Fucking as if." Roy trailed off, mumbling under his breath. In the other office, Trent went straight back to his writing while Ted toyed with his phone, a tiny smile just visible under his mustache. Not even 10 minutes later, Beard sat heavily in the chair across from Ted. 

"Well?" He asked gruffly. 

"You were right."

"Pardon?"

"You were right. She was very… angry." At the sound of his voice, Ted looked up. 

"Sup Willis?"

"Ms Welton is a little out of sorts today." The coach replied stiffly. Roy snorted.

"Out of sorts? She was full on Roy Kent up there." Ted hummed and rolled his chair back to put his feet up. 

By mid morning, the club was on eggshells. The admin girl had refused to take the post upstairs, Leslie had broken two teacups through shaking so much. They'd roped in the big guns for lunch. 

"Come on then you bunch of pussies, what are you so scared of?" Keeley fucking Jones arrived with a paper bag full of wraps for the coaches and a couple of salads for her and Rebecca. 

"She's fucking scary today Keels!" Roy muttered. "She even scared Beard." The usually unruffled coach nodded from the corner. Clearly, not a scrap of work was being done. 

"Will nearly had her laptop launched at his head when she couldn't print something earlier." Higgins said from the gym window. Keeley looked around, incredulous. 

"You lot are-" she paused at Ted, "proper wimpy. Here, take your lunches, I'll take the wicked witch her salad." The bag was emptied by the vultures and Keeley made for the door. Just as she passed the water cooler, Ted caught up with her. 

"Hey, Keels, I'll take the salad. The boss might be more hungry." Keeley narrowed her eyes at him.

"What do you know, Lasso?"

"Don't know whatcha mean jelly bean. Just trying to help."

"Why aren't you scared like the others?"

"Sure I am, I'm shakin' in my boots."

"Nuh uh, you're the only one who sat there with a cheeky little smile. So what do you know?"

"There might have been an issue with the biscuits this morning. As in, there ain't any."

"Oh Ted, what have you done?! You do not introduce something into a daily routine unless you can keep up with it! Well no wonder she's fucking hungry. I'd better get up there!" She turned on her heels and left Ted at the foot of the stairs. It wasn't the full story behind Rebecca’s bad mood, but it was all he was willing and able to confirm. 

"Knockadoodledooo!" Keeley sang as she tapped the door, peering round into the room. 

"Come on, it's safe, I promise."

"You've scared them all down there, babe. Well, except Ted." 

"Ted hasn't been up here."

"No, he's just watching everyone else be terrified with this little smirk on his face. Oh, he switched your salad. He told me about the biscuits and said you'd be hungry."

"Damn him." Rebecca all but snatched the wrap from Keeley and tucked in.

"So, what's wrong? And surely it's not just biscuits?"

"It's nothing, really." Rebecca spoke through a mouthful of her lunch. 

"Rebecca, don't bullshit me. Out with it." She checked the door was closed - it was, it had been all morning. 

"Something happened last night. I may have, well, we actually - it's more of a two person situation - that is to say, Ted and I-"

"You shagged him didn't you?"

"How on earth do you do that?!"

"He's the only one sitting down there with a sneaky little shit eating smirk while everyone else still looks traumatised from bringing your post or saying hello to you. It's more obvious than… Bumbercatch's nationality-"

"You do realise no one else knew he was Swiss?" Keeley shushed her with a hand flap.

"You two have been playing this super weird game for weeks! Months even. Ever since you saw boring John Wingsnight in the cafe and you told me what his fiance said. Ted has been out of sorts since his mom went home. The only thing I can't work out is why you're angry?"

"I'm… not able to tell you that."

"Ooh is it dirty? Tell me, tell me!"

"I can't."

"Rebecca Victoria Welton, if you don't give me a full match of the day style run down of what happened then I will go down and get the mustachioed man himself and make him tell me."

"He wouldn't."

"Maybe not, but I'd make him cry while I try and break him." Rebecca stared at her tiny, violent best friend. 

"OK. Fine, I'll tell you." Keeley clapped her hands in glee. "I asked him to come over after he told me in his office that he was leaving. I wanted to check on him, he'd been so down and so un-Ted - especially after his mom left, like you said. So we had some dinner, opened some wine and got a bit drunk. He wants to be with Henry. His mom put some stupid guilt trip on him, so he thinks going back is the only solution. Anyway, I… got a little upset after we talked about it."

~~~~~~~

"Hey now, you don't have to cry, boss. You got plenty of time to find a new coach, and the boys will be just fine and-"

"Ted! I don't give a shit about finding a new coach!" She pressed her hands against her eyes, desperately trying to stem the flow of tears. Tears that had arrived involuntarily and unexpectedly. She thought she was pretty well under control up until that point. She'd remained calm when he told her, and when he'd told the team. "I was doing so well! I was trying so hard not to cry, I didn't want you to feel any guilt about going and now-" sobs overtook "I thought I could be the one person you could rely on who wouldn't plead with you to stay and now I've fucked it all up." Her shoulders shook with the force of her tears. Ted hovered next to her, unwilling to make things worse. At her last comment, though, he had to intervene. 

"No, don't do that, boss. You ain't done anything wrong - this is all on me, if I could stay-, if you only knew how I really feel." He wrapped her up in his arms, enveloping her. He could still feel her snuffling into the collar of his sweatshirt. She stopped suddenly, her breath hiccuping a little. 

"What do you mean?" She didn't move.

"Nothing, I just mean how much I care for you all, that's all." 

"Oh."

"Why, do you-, I mean, is there another reason you're so upset?"

"Me?" She froze, matchbooks, tiny green army figures, and an image of Ted playing darts I believe some folks call it white knighting flooded her mind. "Don't be silly, Ted. I'm far more worried about you!"

"Oklahoma?" She stepped away from him and towards the comfort of her wine glass. 

"I don't think that's a good idea." She replied honestly. 

"I know you don't, that's why I Oklahoma’d you. Out with it, Welton."

"I am still your boss, Ted."

"I know. Why else would I have stayed quiet for so long?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" She put her glass down a little too forcefully, the contents splashing up and over the rim of the glass. 

"I think you know, and if you do, then I don't see why you can't say what you need to say." Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

"Why can't you say it?" He demanded. 

"Say fucking what Ted? That I don't want you to go? Fine, I don't want you to go."

"Why not?" She glared at him, having another drink from her glass. "Why not?" He asked again, more softly.

"Because…" She shook her head, the tears returning. He reached out to take both of her hands in his, his eyes the darkest hazel she'd ever seen them. Eventually, she sighed, resigned. "Because I love you, Ted." She snatched her hands away to wipe her tears again. "That’s enough now. You should probably go." She turned away from him, embarrassed, blotting her cheeks with a tissue from a box on the counter. She waited for the sound of the door but it didn't come. Instead she sensed Ted behind her, felt his breath on the back of her neck. 

"I love you too." She heard him say quietly. "I'll leave you in peace, boss." It wasn't until she heard the front door shut that she registered his departure. She made it upstairs, took off what was left of her makeup, brushed out her hair and changed into soft leggings and a large sweater. She went back down to finish the contents of her glass, pulled on a pair of trainers and ran out of the house. 

Ted had made his way across the Green. He'd waved to Mae through the pub window, but shook his head when she held up a pint glass. He poured a glass of whiskey and downed it, then poured another. He'd kicked off his sneakers by the door and pulled off his Richmond sweatshirt by the time his intercom buzzed. He figured it was Beard - he'd seen him in the pub through the window, so he let him straight in. He hadn’t expected to see Rebecca walk through his front door. He didn't say a word, just handed over his glass and went to get another. 

"How long have you known?" She asked. 

"How long have I known about you or about me?"

"Both?"

"I thought I'd worked you out a while ago, when I was in my head about whether Michelle was getting engaged, but I didn't know for sure until my mom visited. For me, it's been since you refused to accept my resignation last season."

"Ted, that's a year?" He shrugged. 

"I mean, It's probably been longer, I just didn't fully realise it until then. Or maybe when you told me about Sam. Why? When did you know?"

"This morning in your office.” 

"Oh. Oh you got some catching up to do then. No wonder you look so terrified."

“Thanks.” She muttered, dripping with sarcasm. “It hit me like… lightning."

“I’ve had longer to process it all, that’s all. It’s just always there for me, in the background of everything. It’s not even like it’s a big secret, I’m pretty sure Beard knows. And Higgy.”

“Oh, that’s just bloody wonderful then. You’re so ok with it all that you’re over it! You can just leave and carry on with your life like it’s nothing!” She sneered.

“Don’t say that, you know that ain’t true.”

“Do I?” He sat back down on the sofa, leaving space for her. She remained between the kitchen and sitting room for a moment before taking the seat next to him. “I can’t believe everyone knows but me. Am I really that oblivious?”

“Not everyone. And of course you’re not oblivious. You’re the most perceptive woman I’ve ever known, Rebecca. You've just been in your own head lately."

"So what now? You go back to Kansas and we forget all of…" She waved her hands around, "This? Chalk it up to bad timing?"

"Depends I guess."

"On?"

"Do you really not want me to go?" She took a big drink and put the glass down.

"Do you know what I've spent all day doing?" He mirrored her, finishing his drink, then motioned for her to continue. 

"I do not, but I sure hope you're gonna tell me."

"Schools. I've spent all day looking at every school in town, what they offer, how they can support pupils from overseas, if they have sports clubs. And then I cross referenced that list with another list of schools nearby with teaching vacancies. And then I added in a commute radius so I could make sure that both you and Michelle could get to the Henry's school in nearly equal time from your potential workplaces. I also called the schools with job vacancies to find out exactly what they were looking for." Ted stared,

"How the heck?"

"Michelle keeps her LinkedIn profile very up to date. It's almost like she's looking for another job. Anyway, of the 5 with vacancies, 3 would be suitable and would like to know more about Michelle and cross referencing those 3 gave me 4 potential schools for Henry." He took back the glass he'd given her and finished what was left. "That's my drink."

"Sharing's caring." He mumbled, still staring. "You did all that?"

"It's not that big a deal. I already had lists of schools suitable for both of them anyway. I just had to see who had vacancies." She shrugged. 

"You already had the lists since when?"

"I put it together when you asked me to hire an investigator to see if Michelle was getting engaged. It seemed more worthy of my time."

"I'm a little a lot drunk right now, but that's a pretty big romcom gesture, baby."

"Pish, it's exactly what people do for their friends."

"Would you do it for Higgy?"

"Nooo, he already knows the area so well."

"Roy?"

"He's too picky."

"Keeley?"

"Highly organised, already has a list."

"So just me then?"

"Ted, you're the only friend I have who might have a requirement for this list!"

"I'm also the only friend you're in love with." He nudged her with his shoulder, pushing a little too hard in his drunkenness so that she nearly tipped right over onto the sofa.

"Yep, thanks for reminding me." She righted herself. 

"So you really did that, huh?"

"The things you do when you're in love, baby." She nudged him back. 

"So you really, really don't want me to go."

"Is that not obvious enough for you yet, Ted? Should we stage an intervention? I don't want you to go. I want you to stay, and I'd do anything I can to make that happen." They sat in silence, Rebecca's words flowing over him like the whiskey and wine they were so drunk on.

"Fuck, Rebecca. That might be the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me." He said at last, leaning into her and catching her cheek so he could turn her to face him. "If I kiss you, you gonna try and hit me?"

"Try? If you kiss me, you'd damn well better be staying. Otherwise, don't fucking bother."

"You'd walk out of here right now? Or would you rather see how the kiss goes?" They both knew she had no intention of leaving. He reached a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her towards him, and claimed her lips in a kiss. She immediately tilted her head to give him better access, and he took the chance to deepen the kiss. Her hands went to his scruffy hair, her long nails against his scalp, making him groan into her. He pressed against her, twisting her body so that he could lay her back on the sofa and move fully on top of her. She moved her knees apart to make room for him, feeling the hard seam of his khakis in contrast to the soft, thin material of her leggings. As he kissed a sloppy path down her neck, she could feel him harden against her thigh. She bucked her hips against him.

"Jesus, Ted -" He pulled at the hem of her sweater, so she moved up onto her elbows to help him remove it, pressing her chest against him. He ran a fingertip along the top of the cup of her bra, pulling it down and taking a nipple into his mouth. He fumbled with the waistband of her leggings, his hands moving faster than his brain. It took far more maneuvering than it would if they'd been sober, but eventually, they'd made it the short distance to the bedroom with considerably fewer clothes. They stumbled against the bed, tripped over clothes, and bumped heads multiple times. He was rock hard against her, but Ted didn't give himself a passing thought as he kissed every inch of Rebecca’s body. She arched into every touch, his name a constant chant. When he finally pressed his tongue hard against her clit, he had to pin her hips down to keep her on the bed. He barely let up for a second as she came down from her first release, already willing her into another. When he crawled back up her body, she dragged her fingers through his hair again, desperately rolling her hips against his. 

"I know baby, I got you. Do you have any-"

"No need, Ted. Unless you want to. I'm all clear." He dropped a kiss to her lips and pushed into her, inch by inch. 

"Fuck, Becca-" she lifted her legs to wrap around him, the angle causing a friction which had her on the edge again almost straight away. He came seconds behind her, her name pulled from his chest. He collapsed on top of her and she relaxed her legs. "I'll move, don't wanna hurt you." She lay a palm between his shoulder blades to keep him in place.

"I'm fine, stay a minute." He kissed her neck, his hands absentmindedly stroking up the sides of her breast. They lay in silence until their breathing returned to normal and Ted moved. He returned with a damp washcloth and she watched in awe and amusement while he helped her clean up. "Thank you, love." She whispered, a hand cupping his cheek. She was hesitant when she left the bathroom, unsure whether to stay until he handed her a soft, worn t-shirt to sleep in. With the lights off, she curled against him, pushing a leg over and squeezing her knee between his. "Do you think we've fucked it all up?" He kissed her head, 

"I sure hope not, cos I really wanna do that again." Rebecca laughed.

Amazingly, she woke up in the same position. She could feel him hard against her and rolled further on top of him. She kissed his jaw and neck, pulling him from any last traces of sleep. His hands reached around to grab her bum so she sat up onto her knees. She ground herself against him, gasping when she finally had him inside her. They rocked lazily together, a deliciously tense orgasm building slowly. 

"Mornin' Ted. You still in the shower? I got the coffees already. You got any food?" Beard's voice rumbled through the half open door. They could hear him opening kitchen cupboards. Rebecca quickly moved off Ted and into the bathroom, where she pointed frantically at items of clothing from the doorway. Ted grabbed what he could and followed her inside,

"Uhh yeah, just finishing up. Be out in a sec." He called out, closing himself and Rebecca in the bathroom. 

"What the fuck is he doing here?"

"It's 8.30am, Bec. If he's here, I'm gonna be late for work." 

"I'm your fucking boss!"

"Ok, well shall I tell him you're here?" She glared in response. He showered quickly, while she dressed. "I'll see you at work?" He whispered, kissing her once more, and then left her in his bathroom. In the living room, Beard had clocked the two whiskey glasses and the discarded ladies trainers. He didn't question Ted, and moments later, Rebecca heard them shut the door of the flat.

"Fuck." She whispered. "I need to get back to mine."

~~~~~~~

“So let me get this straight, you’re mad as hell because one, Beard interrupted your morning session and two, Ted didn’t have time to make biscuits because you got him drunk and you guys had lots of sex?” Rebecca blushed and nodded.

“He just stopped, Keeley!”

“I’m sorry, Rebecca, but you’re a grown, single woman! You could have,” she held up and wiggled her index and middle finger, “y’know, bit of DIY.”

“I didn’t want DIY, I’ve had enough of that. I wanted Ted.” Keeley couldn’t hold herself together any longer, and giggles erupted.

“Oh my god. And there’s everyone down there thinking something terrible has happened! Thinking how upset you are over Ted leaving, but all along, it was this!” She laughed hysterically. 

“It’s not like we had a chance to talk this morning, we were really fucking drunk last night Keeley. What if he still wants to leave? I’m mad about the whole combination of things, I’m hungover, the interrupted sex, the biscuits, the drunkenness… I just-, I don’t want him to go. But I don’t know if I’ve given him enough reason to stay.”

“There’s only one person who can answer that, babe. Though you might want him to get you off first so you’re more amenable to whatever his answer is.” Keeley started laughing again.

“Shut up, you. Maybe we should have done what I said. He goes back and we attribute it to bad timing. Missed opportunities, sliding doors etcetera.” Keeley frowned.

“Are you fucking real, Rebecca? Are you seriously telling me that last night's drunken confessions and the super hot sex that continued into this morning both mean so little to you that you can just forget it all?”

“Of course I can’t, I’ll never forget any of it. But if he doesn’t want to stay then I can’t and won’t force him.”

“Well if he’s down there smiling away then he’s clearly made some sort of decision, wouldn’t you say?” Rebecca didn’t respond, she fiddled with the edge of her shirt. “Why don’t I send him up?” Rebecca nodded so briefly, Keeley nearly missed it. She darted out of the room before Rebecca could change her mind.

“Oi, Lasso. Your presence is required upstairs.” Keeley said brightly from the doorway. Ted’s phone clattered against the table.

“Me? Uhh… why?”

“Why not? She’s shouted at everyone else today. Your turn.” Beard sniggered into his book, turning it into a cough when Ted looked at him.

“Right, right, sure thing Billie Jean King.” He bumped against every surface in his haste to get upstairs and knocked gently at the door.

“Come in.”

“Hey boss, how was your lunch?”

“It was good. Thank you for swapping.”

“Ahh if your hangover is anything like mine, carbs are a must.” He took a seat on the sofa, slightly across from her. Remembering the last time he sat in this spot and she’d returned the ceremonial spray of tea in his face

“Said the man who had a salad.”

“It’s a peace offering. I’m sorry about this morning, believe me, that is not how I would have wanted our first morning together to go.” Rebecca looked up sharply.

“You’ve thought about… that?”

“I’ve thought about everything. I’ve pictured you in just about every single scenario my brain could come up with.” She looked wary. “Nothing compares to the real thing though. Waking up with you was something else.” He could see her demeanor start to soften. And if we hadn’t been interrupted, I'd have told you as much. I’d have shown you.”

“Have you thought about anything else we discussed last night?”

“You mean your 10 point plan to get Henry into Cambridge?”

“Oxford, actually.”

“My bad. Yes, I have.” He held his phone up, “I’m currently opening negotiations with Michelle about it. I’ve given her enough detail to think about for now, we’ve got a call planned for later on where I can give her all of the information and give her time to make an informed decision.”

“Does she think you’ve gone mad?”

“Far from it. She thinks it sounds great, and that’s without me telling her that you’ve already got her lined up for a promotion and pay rise.”

“I don’t recall mentioning either of those things.”

“Well I guess we’ll have to sweet talk her together. If you’re interested?” She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “Wow, you really broke that dam last night.” She hit out at his knee.

“Fuck off.” 

“Sure, yeah, I’ll go-” He went to stand but she took his hand and pulled him back down. “I’d really like a do-over on this morning.”

“Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

“Only if we don’t drink so much, I don’t remember nearly as much of your body as I want to.”

“You’ll be in for a surprise later then.” She said cheekily.

“You’re always surprising me, baby. Thank you for wanting me to stay.”

“Thank you for thinking about it.”

“Ohh I’m gonna do more than think. Whatever happens, we’ll make the next decisions together. I love you, Rebecca. Now, how about we go tell everyone that they ain’t getting rid of me that easily, and you can show them that you’ve turned your frown upside down?”

FIN

[firstdegreefangirl]

If you are open to Ted Lasso requests, then Roy Kent/Keeley Jones + sickfic and snuggles?

Oh, nonnie, this got WAY out of hand. But I had SO MUCH FUN writing it, so thank you! There's a lot going on at the beginning here, but I swear there are sickfic and snuggles under the break. I hope you like it!

Read the whole thing in one click HERE on ao3!

The morning gets off to a late start, right out of the gate. The team bus leaves late when they lose Nate again (this year they knew to check the luggage hold, but no one thought to look in the upstairs bathroom, where he was “looking for a little extra privacy, sorry”) and there’s more traffic than anyone could have predicted.

Altogether, it means that the team hardly makes it to Sheffield with time to drop their bags at the hotel before they’re due at the stadium for the game.

Roy tosses a duffel bag onto one of the double beds in the room he’s sharing with Ted tonight (not by choice; it turns out relegation means there’s not enough money in the team budget for all four coaches to have separate suites. Last away game, he and Nate had been roommates, but Ted has some big idea about everyone spending equal amounts of time together in the name of ‘equitable morale,’ and apparently coaching staff isn’t exempt.)

Really, he should have taken the job with SkySports.

At least then, he wouldn’t be pulling a furry green unicorn out of his bag and sitting it carefully by the pillows.

“Security object, Roy?” Ted points from across the room as Roy reaches for his phone. “Respect. No shame in a man seeking a little comfort from-”

“Fuck off,” he snaps, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Phoebe’s mad her mum wouldn’t let her come on a sleepover with the team this weekend. Asked me to bring Captain McKibbin along instead, the little idiot. I … promised to send pictures. As proof.”

“Hey, I get it. My boy’s done many a Flat Stanley in his day.” Clearly, Ted expects him to know what this means, so Roy nods if only to save himself the explanation. “Anyway, we’ve got to meet the fellas in the lobby, head over to the field – pitch.” A full year in, and Ted still struggles with the vernacular sometimes. It’d drive Roy nuts, if the guy hadn’t done so much to help him and his career. “Is, ah, will Captain McCarlson be joining us for the-”

“McKibbin. Captain McKibbin, and he will not. Phoebe says he can stay here, to ward off any bad dream monsters.”

“Well you be sure to let her know that I intend to sleep snug as a bug in a rug tonight. No, two rugs!” Tim points at Roy with both hands, then spins around and opens the door to the hallway.

He still hasn’t gotten a chance to catch up with Keeley before the match starts. She and Rebecca had driven out separately – something about girl talk and lattes – but he knows she’s around somewhere. The owner’s box is a little different everywhere they go, but never too terribly hard to find, and he catches a glimpse of her bright pink peacoat when he looks around during the opening lineup. She's sitting between Rebecca and Higgins, and as soon as she notices him watching, she waves happily. He lifts a hand in response, then tucks it back against his chest, turning back to the pitch and squaring his shoulders as the first half begins.

Richmond is playing well; Isaac has stepped up and really filled Roy’s shoes as captain, and all the lads are on the same wavelength, without having to say much of anything to one another. He hates to admit it, but Roy wonders if the seamless communication doesn’t have something to do with the scavenger hunt they’d hosted in the locker room last night. Ted had blindfolded half of the players, and made the other half sit on the bench and shout directions. The whole thing had been a mess, but then they’d passed around the bottle of vodka he’d stashed behind the clean boots as a prize, and everyone had left smiling. If that’s it, Roy can’t deny the results, but he’ll damn sure try.

That’s what he’s thinking about a few minutes later when he turns around again, looking for Keeley in the stands. He’s always looking for her, when he doesn’t have to be watching every second of the match. She’s almost always watching him right back, before he’s even looking at her. And half the time, he’ll feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. Even if he can’t check it until halftime, he knows it’s a comment on the quality of the plays, or the other team’s kits, or how much she likes the view of his ass from the box.

But now, when he looks, he can’t find her anywhere. He looks again, trying to pick her out in the sea of Richmond jerseys. Most of the faces are strangers, but he can distinguish between them. All the way at the top, where Keeley had been sitting before, it’s just Rebecca and Higgins now, an empty seat folded up between them.

Roy stares for a moment, waiting for her to reappear with a soft pretzel or something. But she doesn’t. Eventually, Rebecca catches his eyeline, and shakes her head. Her lips move, but there’s no way Roy can make out the words. All he knows is that Keeley has disappeared, and judging from Rebecca’s gesture, she’s been gone for more than a few minutes.

Something isn’t right; he can feel it in his stomach. And in his knee, but that’s more from the impending winter. The feeling about Keeley, that sits deep in his gut, twisting and knotting around his organs as he turns back to the pitch.

The lads are lining up the next play, but Ted, Nate and Beard are spread out along the sideline. Roy sidesteps around Beard, almost trips over Nate when he moves back just as Roy passes behind him, and finally comes to a stop next to Ted.

"Coach?”

“What’s up, Roy?” Ted doesn’t turn toward him, but he leans in Roy’s direction, and he knows he’s got the man’s full attention.

He hears the announcer take notice of his new position, the commentary echoing around them.

On Richmond’s side of the field, former team member turned coach Roy Kent is vying for the attention of head coach Ted Lasso. The players are lined up; what could he be saying?

But Roy doesn’t say anything. He just points, arms still folded across his chest, until Ted looks up to the stands behind them.

Both coaches now, looking up at the audience. Surely they’re not surprised at the show of support for the Richmond Greyhounds? They’ve sold out almost every game since their relegation …

The rest of the announcement fades to the background when understanding spreads across Ted’s face. Roy knows he’s seen the empty seat, knows he’ll understand the concern Roy can’t put into words. He raises an eyebrow when Tim looks back to his face, and the other coach nods.

“Just be in the locker room for halftime, yeah? The guys are countin’ on you for a speech to hype them up for the rest of the game.”

Roy jerks his chin up and down, then heads for the tunnel that’ll take him out of view of the crowds. The announcer’s voice comes behind him again.

Coach Kent, now heading off of the pitch. Makes you wonder what’s going on for the Greyhounds. Have they sent a coach away in the middle of a match, or did he ask to be excused? And why? But gameplay continues without him …

It’s only a few steps before he’s in the locker room, trying to shake off the memory of the last time he’d left the pitch before a match was up. It’s empty, no signs of another occupant, but the solitude gives him an opportunity to fish his phone out of his pocket.

No texts, no missed calls. Right away, he dials Keeley’s number.

If you’re looking for the PR Manager for the Richmond Greyhounds, leave a message for Keeley Jones after the beep. If you’re trying to reach your best friend Keeley for a round of drinks, hang up and text me. Oh, and Rebecca? If it’s too long to text, I’ll check my emails soon. Kisses!

“Oi, it’s me,” Roy all but grunts into the speaker when Keeley’s voicemail recording is done. “You’re not in your seat. Not that you have to be, but Rebecca hadn’t seen you, and I didn’t …” he trails off, suddenly afraid of sounding clingy and controlling. “Anyway, call me when you get this.”

He stares at his home screen after he hangs up, a selfie Keeley had nabbed his phone to take. He’s got an arm wrapped around her shoulders and his lips pressed against her temple, and her face is scrunched up in laughter. It’s ridiculous, the first time anyone but a blood relative has ever been his background, but he can’t help smiling at it, even as the worry knots itself tighter in his stomach.

When he can’t stand it any longer, he texts Rebecca.

You seen her?

Her reply is almost instant.

Not since she left. I have her coat, phone is in the pocket. Heard it ring.

Well, shit. She doesn’t have her phone, and as far as Roy knows, nobody has any idea where his girlfriend is.

But then there’s a sniffle from inside one of the toilet stalls. He’d know that sound anywhere; it’s the same noise Keeley makes every time they watch a Disney film together, right before he teases her for crying and she pokes fun right back at how he’s not.

He’d peered under the doors when he walked in, checking for feet, but he knocks on the stall anyway.

“Keeley?” He calls, pushing the door open slowly. Sure enough, she’s inside, sitting with her feet tucked up onto the seat, head wedged between her knees and hands clamped tightly around the back of her skull. “Babe, what’s going on?”

“It’s so … it’s so loud out there,” she whispers, but doesn’t look up. “All the yelling and shouting and cheering. It’s a good thing, I know, that the fans are engaged, but it was just pounding on my brain, making my eyes go all spotty. I tried to stick it out, Roy, really; I know how much these games mean to you, to the whole team. But then I felt like I was going to vomit and-” Keeley chokes on a sob. “I couldn’t find anywhere else quiet to go.”

“Right, well come on,” Roy reaches out slowly and squeezes one of her shoulders. “There’s got to be somewhere better to sit than a men’s toilet stall. You’ve met the lads, they’re disgusting.”

Keeley chuckles, thick and teary, but drops her knees and lets Roy pull her to her feet. As soon as she’s standing, she wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest. It can’t be too comfortable; he hasn’t taken off the Richmond windbreaker he wears for every game, but Keeley relaxes when Roy doesn’t push her away. Instead, he locks his arms around her shoulders and walks them both slowly back until he can drop onto one of the benches. Keeley stays leaned against him, but brings one hand up to cover her eyes where the harsh lighting seeps in.

“Alright, now, what is it?” Roy asks, when Keeley hasn’t said anything for a while. “You seemed alright when we left this morning.”

“I was. Or, I thought I was anyway. Just a little tired, maybe, but that was all. It was fine until the car ride, but then I got really queasy, and my head started throbbing.” Roy reaches up to scratch his fingers gently through her hair and she sighs. “It got a little better when we got out of the car, but then it was just so-”

“Loud, I know,” he finishes for her, then they both fall silent.

Exhaustion. Nausea. Headache. His sister had those symptoms once, just shy of eight years ago.

Shit.

“Keel. You don’t think you’re … You – we – couldn’t be … you aren’t …"

“What?”

“Um, pregnant? I know we’re careful, but …" Keeley cuts him off with a laugh that turns into a whimper, and he tightens his hold on her.

“No. Definitely not. Not this week, for sure. Just a migraine, I think. Used to get them sometimes, but it’s been a bit.”

“Good,” Roy sighs. “I mean, someday, maybe, but not …”

“Not yet,” Keeley agrees, and something goes warm in his chest, knowing that they’re on the same page. Right now, they don’t need to worry about anything except getting Keeley back in fighting shape.

“Have you taken anything?” She nods against his chest.

“This morning, um, in the car. It didn’t help much. Just need it dark. And quiet.”

“OK, that’s alright,” Roy whispers, dropping his voice even quieter. “It should be almost half, what say we find somewhere else for you to hole up before everyone comes barging in like heathens?”

He’s not sure exactly where they can go, but he knows he’s got to get Keeley out of the locker room before they clear the players off the pitch. She shrugs half-heartedly, and lets Roy pull her back to her feet. He doesn’t have a plan yet, but he starts walking them slowly toward the door as he looks around. There are no offices in here, no treatment rooms or storage closets.

He hasn’t checked the time since he found Keeley, but he’s played enough years of football that his body’s internal clock can feel the seconds ticking away. There’s maybe two or three minutes left, and Ted wants him to give the halftime pep talk. If he asked, if he explained everything, he could probably get out of it, maybe trade Beard for next week or something. Keeley needs him.

But the team needs him too.

All at once, it hits him.

Rebecca.

Rebecca doesn’t have a role in the halftime routine. There’s nothing happening on the field and she almost never comes to the locker room before the match ends. And she’s got a car here; that’s somewhere quiet Keeley can sit, at least until the second half gets underway.

He wiggles his phone out of his pocket again and reopens the text thread.

Found her in locker room. Migraine. Can you meet us and take her outside for halftime? Ted wants me to give speech.

Rebecca doesn’t reply, but a minute or so later, Roy hears the steady click-clack of her heels coming down the hall. Keeley whimpers, and he presses a kiss to her hair as the door swings open.

“Hey,” he says, shifting around to look at Rebecca.

“Hello,” she whispers back.

“Hey, Keeley, Rebecca’s here now,” Roy tips his face back down to whisper against the shell of her ear. “Think you can make it outside with her?”

“We can head back to the hotel, Keeley, if you think that’d help? It’s only a few minutes’ drive.”

“Yeah, ‘s quieter there,” she says, but doesn’t move.

“And I’ll meet you there just as soon as the match is done, hmm?” He runs his fingers up and down her arm, shifting away slightly. “Here, want to take my sunglasses, block out some of the light?”

At that, Keeley squeezes her eyes shut and turns her face up toward Roy. He chuckles and slides his glasses over her eyes, then brushes a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Alright then, off you go,” He lets Rebecca take her by the arm and lead her back out of the locker room, trying to ignore the way his heart clenches at the sight of her trudging away, hunched over against her own discomfort.

He’ll be back with her soon enough. But the door has no more than swung shut behind them when it bounces open again. Jamie and Sam are leading the pack, the whole team piling in around him.

As usual, their energy is infectious, and Roy finds himself slapping hands and patting backs as he makes his way across the room to where Ted is bringing up the rear.

“Hey, Roy, you get everything all squared away?”

“For now. Rebecca’s taking Keeley back to the hotel; she’s not feeling well.” He should have known better than to hope that Ted Lasso would ever let anything drop with a simple explanation.

“Well that’d explain the text message I got from Boss Lady asking if she’d be alright rooming with me tonight.” Roy’s eyebrows go up at that. “And I’m guessin’ from the look on your face that she didn’t mention anything about that to you? Aw, geez, I hope I didn’t spoil a surprise or anything. But the cat’s out of the metaphorical bag now, isn’t it? So I might as well tell you that I told her that I was a-OK with switching up the room arrangements if that’s what’s best for everyone tonight. Thataways you can keep an eye on Keeley, and down the hall we can have Biscuits with the Boss: Evening Edition. How’s that sit with you?”

“Honestly, Ted, I have no opinion on what time of day you eat biscuits,” Roy sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But thanks. I think. For making sure I can be there for Keeley.”

“We’re all on the same team here, right? What’s good for the goose and all that, we’re at our best when everyone is at their own, individual best. Hey, speaking of, there are some guys in here, waiting for someone to put a little extra pep in their step for the back end of this game. If you’re not up for it, I can see what Coach Beard has up his sleeve, or-”

“No, it’s fine,” Roy cuts him off before the rambling can reach full speed again. “I’ve got this one.”

He turns back to the group, and yells for everyone to listen up. When he’s got their attention, he takes a deep breath.

“What you’re doing on the pitch today, it’s fucking amazing,” he starts. “Not the score, though that’s pretty alright too. But that doesn’t matter half as much as how you’re playing. Hell, you assholes keep communicating this well, you’re going to put us coaches out of a job. I know Ted’s all about the rhymes and anecdotes and shit, but that’s not … I’m not a walking greeting card store,” everyone chuckles, Ted included. “But get back out there, keep working together, and dammit, make the four of us redundant!”

There’s a round of half-sarcastic applause, then Ted steps forward.

“Alright, y’all heard the man. Don’t get tired, get us fire—well, actually, don’t get us fired. That’s not … take the sentiment of what Roy said, but do me a favor and don’t take him literally. I like working with y’all. Anyway, Coach Beard’s gonna take it from here, walk y’all through a couple plays for the second half.”

The players cluster around Beard and his whiteboard diagram, and Ted finds his way back over to Roy at the back of the group.

“You know, if you need to head out a little early today, we can pull through without you. Sometimes a team is strongest when it’s split up to work on all the different things it needs to get done. Like taking care of each other.”

Any other day, he likes to think he’d insist on staying for the rest of the match. But if he’s honest with himself, he knows that he’ll put Keeley first anytime she needs him to.

“That’d be great, Ted. Thanks.”

“Hey, no problem, Roy. I’ll come check up on y’all when we get back?” Roy nods and shakes Ted’s hand quickly, then slips out of the locker room while Beard is saying something about the Sheffield players having “lots of power, like a high-watt light bulb.”

He doesn’t have a car, doesn’t feel like waiting on an Uber, so it’s a half-hour's walk back to the hotel. When he gets there, Rebecca is already waiting for him in the lobby.

“Ted gave me your room number,” she starts, as soon as they’ve said their hellos. “Keeley’s up there lying down. I, uh, I assumed yours was the bed with the unicorn on it?”

“It’s Phoebe’s,” he groans. “But yes.”

“I’m sure.” But she’s smirking like she might not be. “Anyway, Ted’s things are already taken care of, and I think I got everything of Keeley’s into your room, but she unpacked her entire suitcase first thing, so I might’ve missed some shoes or something.”

“No problem. She’ll get them back, I’m sure. Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Anytime, Roy. Really. I’m just down the hall, if either of you need anything.”

Roy nods his thanks and steps into the elevator.

He swipes his key card to unlock the door, then turns the handle and pushes it open slowly. The lights are turned off, and the curtains drawn, so he makes his way carefully, trying to remember if these rooms have any wayward furniture for him to stumble over.

Thankfully, the walkway is clear. He sits gently on the edge of his bed, smiling when the Keeley-shaped lump of covers shifts closer to him.

“Hey, babe,” she mutters.

“Hi,” Roy presses his lips together and pats what he thinks is probably her knee through the blankets. “Feeling better?”

“A little. Rebecca gave me water. And it’s quiet here.”

“Yeah, it is.” He’s not sure what else to say, but Keeley saves him from having to carry on the conversation.

“There’s a unicorn on your bed. ‘S soft.”

“His name is Captain McKibbin,” Roy replies, rolling his eyes even though he knows she can’t see from here. “I’ll tell Phoebe you like him.”

“Please do.”

“Anything else you need?”

“Just you,” she says, and it’s so quietly honest that if Roy weren’t already pretty sure he’s in love with her, it would have sealed the deal. He toes his shoes off and shimmies out of his windbreaker and trousers.

“Alright, well shove over then,” he teases, nudging her shoulder until there’s room for him to lie down beside her. When he pulls the covers back, he recognizes the hoodie she’s wearing as the one he’d crammed into the top of his bag when he packed last night. It’s three sizes too big, and she’s got one of her own just like it, but she looks far better in Roy’s than he ever will.

As soon as he’s lying down, Keeley is turning over and fitting herself against his side, tucking her face back into his bare chest. It’s still early in the evening, and Roy knows that if he falls asleep now, he’ll spend all week regretting it. But Keeley needs the rest, and there’s not much he can do without turning on the TV or lighting up his phone screen.

Besides, one afternoon nap never killed anyone, right?

So he closes his eyes and listens to her steady breathing. When Keeley wakes up, hopefully the worst of the migraine will have passed, and she’ll feel more like herself again. Roy knows they’ve got a pass on team bonding tonight, if they need it, and he doesn’t want to push Keeley into anything she’s not up for. But rumor has it that Beard found a pub with a bowling alley in it, and that’s bound to be entertaining, no matter the scores at the end of the night.

For right now, though, the only thing that matters is Keeley, curled up against him and warmer than all the blankets stacked on top of them. She’s asleep, and he’s following close behind, and nothing matters beyond the comfort they share.

Not migraines, or bowling, or trick plays, or shoes that might have been left down the hall, or anything but Roy and Keeley and this moment together, in the dark and the quiet.

Just them.