#Phoebe did Roy so bad

[bigassbowlingballhead]

If it’s uncle’s day why do I feel like I’m the one getting the gift

[asteria-argo]

correct me if I'm wrong but I was just thinking about the roykeeley in season two of it all, and that fight where Keeley loses it at Roy for being clingy because she can't handle how close they are now that they work in the same building but like,,, Keeley and Roy would have been working in the same building while dating for a good chunk of season one as well.

She started working at Nelson Road before Jamie was even sent back to Manchester. They would of had months working in the same building, so either Roy has always been that clingy and Keeley just didn't mind at first, which I found doubtful given that it only takes her like a week to blow up at him for it in season two, or Roy being clingy is an out of character thing for him to be doing that should've raised some kind of red flag to friends and loved ones that I feel like from what we know about Keeley as a character would've been treated with more empathy than she actually had in the show.

[its-time-to-write]

I saw you asked for requests a few days ago. I was wondering if you would consider doing another part of the Kent!reader x Jamie fics.

I was thinking they do end up pregnant and its them telling everyone they’re pregnant . I can see everyone being so excited for them. And then Roy is just freaking out.

Since they’ve already discussed wanting to be together forever and have kids I can also see them deciding to get married before the baby is born in a small ceremony like Beard had.

I have quite a few requests about Jamie x reader having a kid, so if that ain’t your jam, maybe don’t read my next few posts😂 It’s totally my jam tho, maybe bc I’m suffering from baby fever again. thanks for requesting and for your patience!!

let’s fall in love for the night  

Jamie’s jiggling his leg up and down so fast that you’re surprised he hasn’t cramped yet. 

“Calm down,” you hiss, hand on his knee. 

“Can’t,” he whispers back. “Roy’s gonna fucking kill me.”  

You have no sympathy for him. “Yeah, and whose fault is that? Yours.”

Jamie shoots you a sideways glance. “Excuse me, this was a team effort.”

“Whatever,” you say. “I still say it’s your fault.”

Molly swoops by to refill your water glasses. “Dinner’s ready in a few minutes. Roy and Phoebe have been working very hard,” she says. 

She raises her eyebrows on the word very, and you’re sure that Roy’s patience is being pushed to his limits. He loves cooking and refuses to let anyone help him, but he also loves your niece and can’t deny her anything she wants. 

“Better go check on them,” she says, leaving you and Jamie alone again in the backyard. 

Jamie resumes the previous conversation and says, “Well, I wasn’t the one wearing that blue thing with the flowers.”

“Well obviously,” you shoot back, “it wouldn’t even fit you.”

Jamie’s stopped jiggling his leg and he places his hand on top of yours. “Oi. Has Roy ever actually killed anyone before, or does he just have serial killer eyebrows?”

You wrinkle your nose and ask, “Why the fuck would I know?”

“You’re his sister,” Jamie replies in Phoebe’s patented duh tone. 

“I’m his baby sister,” you say. “I’m even younger than Molly. If he’s killed someone, they’ve both conspired to make sure I’ll never find out. And hey, don’t make fun of the eyebrows. There’s a good chance this baby’s gonna end up with them.”

“Babe you don’t have ‘em,” Jamie points out. 

“I wax,” you say smugly. “Oh, Molly texted. Time to go inside.”

Jamie groans but lets you lead him to the table. 

—

All told, Phoebe didn’t do half bad. 

“Auntie, I did the potatoes all by myself,” she says. 

You look to Roy for confirmation. He grunts and gives a tiny nod. 

“Great job, Phoebs,” you say. 

Molly sets down her fork. “I’ve been thinking of changing my name back to ‘Kent,’” she says. 

“Brill,” says Jamie. 

“Fucking finally,” Roy says as he hands Phoebe some money. “For future words,” he mouths to her as she counts it before depositing what you’re pretty sure is 20 quid into her pocket. 

Molly says, “We’ll all be the Kents again,” and you can feel Jamie go stiff next to you.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy asks, and you turn to see Jamie’s gone completely pale. 

You pinch his thigh and he jumps. “Nothing,” he says hurriedly. “Well, not nothing. But, I dunno, don’t want to overshadow Molls’s good news, ya know? It ain’t important.”

You pinch him again. 

“Ok, it’s actually a little fucking important (sorry Phoebe, take it from Roy). But um, maybe you could help me babe?”

He shoots you a pleading look so you take pity on him. You’ve had more than twenty years dealing with Roy, so you’ll let Jamie slide this once.

“Right, so, we’ve been meaning to tell you- I’m having a baby,” you blurt out. 

Roy’s dinner roll gets crushed in his hand as his face goes bright red. 

“What,” he growls, and you’re not sure if you’re more terrified by the absence of “fuck”s or the fact that it was a statement, not a question. 

“That’s wonderful, love!” Molly says before Roy can say anything else. She’s not looking at him but you can practically feel him take psychic damage from the shut up and be happy you prick, message she’s sure to be telepathically sending him. 

“It’s Jamie’s, right?” she continues, taking a bite of salad. 

“The fuck kind of question is that?” you ask indignantly. “Who else’s would it be?”

“You don’t have to pay me for that one,” Phoebe pipes up. “I’ll give you a free tab of one hundred words because of the baby. If it’s a girl, you can have fifty more.”

You grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re probably going to owe her the fifty, Phoebs,” Molly says. She points to Jamie with her fork. “I mean, look at him. He practically screams ‘girl dad.’” 

“That’s- fucking- great,” Roy garbles out. “‘Scuse me.”

“We’re having a backyard wedding next Saturday, too,” you call after him. “So we probably won’t all be the Kents again.”

You wince as he slams a door from somewhere in the house. 

“He’ll come ‘round,” Molly says consolingly. “Remember how he was with Phoebe? And I was already married!”

You grip Jamie’s hand. “Molls, why can’t he just emote like a regular person? I mean honestly, did our parents fuck him up that bad?”

Molly raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, babe. Think he’s just like us, really, afraid of loving something so he just pushes it all away. And besides, you’re the baby of the family. We’ve always tried to protect you and keep you safe, and sometimes he feels like you’re out of reach.”

You ask, “He told you that?” and Molly just laughs. 

“Not in so many words,” she replies. “But you know how he is.”

“He’s an arsehole,” you grumble. “I’m going to go talk to him.

—

Roy is, predictably, in the backyard. Not many places for him to go and think properly. 

You find him sitting under the tree. 

“Oi,” you say, “budge over.”

He grunts and moves so you’re not quite in the dirt. 

“Can you be sitting on the ground?” he asks. 

“It’s been like three months,” you reply, “That isn’t long enough for me to get stuck places.”

Roy says, “hmm,” but doesn’t offer up anything else so you just sit in silence next to him, pressing your shoulder to his. 

“Why the fuck did it have to be Tartt?” he asks after a beat. “Could’ve been fucking anyone in the fucking world, and you fucking chose him.”

“You like Jamie,” you say in confusion. 

“I don’t,” Roy replies, “he’s a prick. And a fucking footballer. Why’d you have to go for a fucking good-for-nothing footballer? He can’t even be around for his family when they go through shit because he’s going to be busy scoring fucking meaningless goals or some shit.”

That stings for a moment, but you take a good look at Roy’s face. It’s stoic, but shit if you can’t read it like a book. Blood is blood, and you’re a Kent just like him. 

“This isn’t about him, is it. It’s about you. You think you did a shit job as a brother and an uncle so Jamie’s going to be a shit father.”

“I missed out on a lot,” Roy says hoarsely. “And before you say fucking shit, I’m not fucking crying. So shut the fuck about it.”

You grin and wrap your arms around him. “You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for. Took all my cues from you. And anyway, you’ve been there when it counts. Phoebe fucking adores you, practically attached at the hip you two. And yeah, Molls and I missed you when you were at Sunderland and Chelsea and wherever. But… you came back. We needed you, and you came back. So don’t go projecting your stupid self-image on Jamie, because he’s not like that. And you’re not either, you absolute fucking ape-armed frizzy-haired shit-faced twat.”

Roy huffs out a chuckle. “Ape-arms. Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Almost went with ‘camel knees.’ Haven’t used that since I was ten, but I thought it might hit too close to home these days.”

Roy laughs for real this time and tilts his head so it’s resting on yours. “Still fucking weird that my little sister’s having a kid.”

You say, “You’ll get over it. Oh, and don’t wear a goddamn T-shirt on Saturday.”

—

It’s rainy, so the backyard wedding becomes a living room wedding, because who really gives a shit? Richmond have a game tomorrow, but for today they’re in yours and Jamie’s house all dressed up (but still in trainers) laughing and smiling as Dani officiates what you’re sure is your dream wedding. 

It’s not the one you and Molly would’ve giggled about as kids when you sneaked from your bed into hers, but everyone you loves is here. 

For once, Jamie’s house almost seems too small.  

(Dani was the only person you two knew who was ordained or whatever. And hey, could you have picked a happier person for it?)

Molly and Keeley had gone out with you to find a white dress, Sam and Phoebe were the flower-people, and Roy walked you down the stairs to where Jamie was standing with Isaac by his side. 

“I’m not fucking crying,” Roy whispers in your ear. “It’s fucking allergies from being in this prick’s house for too long.”

“It’s my house too,” you remind him. 

Roy just sniffs, pats your hand where it’s tucked into his arm, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

All in all, it was pretty great. 

Gifts range from hair products to restaurant gift cards to designer baby clothes, including a tie-dyed onesie from Phoebe. 

“I have a matching one at home,” she explains. 

But now it’s the evening and everyone is gone except family. 

“Can’t believe my baby’s married,” says a beaming Georgie as she ruffles Jamie’s hair from their place on the couch.

“Can’t believe he attained his childhood goal of marrying into the Kent family,” Molly remarks. 

Jamie grins smugly. “What can I say, I’m a fucking goal-getter.”

You’re snuggled in Jamie’s arms, dress exchanged for a white sweatshirt and sweatpants set, courtesy of Rebecca. 

“I’d’ve had a poster of you on me wall if they made one, babe,” Jamie says. “Better sight than that hairy git.”

Roy just rolls his eyes and says “I’m getting another beer.”

“Can you bring me a piece of cake?” you call after him.

“Me too?” Phoebe asks, looking hopefully at Molly. 

Jamie pats your knee. “Don’t think he heard you, love. I’ll get it for ya. You too, Phoebs.” He shoots a wink in her direction, and she giggles. 

“Oi, grandad,” Jamie says, walking into the kitchen. “Did you hear your sister?”

Roy turns around from the fridge with a menacing look.  

“If she has a single moment of unhappiness, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growls.

“Jesus, sorry,” Jamie says, hands in the air. “What’s got your knickers all in a twist?”

Fucking Jamie, never able to back down from a good squabble with Roy. 

They’re both keeping their voices down because they know if they got caught, no less than three people would be grabbing them by the ear and yelling. 

They might know this from personal experience. 

Roy says, “She’s my little sister. I’d fucking murder for her, and so would Molly. Always tried to make it easier for her when she missed our parents and shit, but it always fucking got to her anyway. Didn’t help that I fucked off to Sunderland at fucking nine, before she was even fucking born. She’s wanted a family of her own for fucking ages, and if you fuck this up for her they will never. Find. Your body.”

Jamie’s not sure Roy’s ever looked this menacing, which is saying something, because he’s Roy fucking Kent. He always looks menacing. 

So he nods and says quietly, “I ain’t gonna fuck it up, Coach. Had a shit dad too. Always wished he were around, except when he was then he’d get all fuckin’ angry and shit. But… still wanted him, y’know? Weird. Anyway, not gonna be like that with her. I want a family too.”

Roy looks straight into his eyes, looking for the barest hint of insincerity. Jamie’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure of this. He’s sure of you. 

Roy says, “Right,” nods once, then claps Jamie on the shoulder right at his phone dings. 

Jamie pulls out his phone to a text from you that reads, pls stop fangirling over my brother. baby wants cake and so does ur mum

He smiles and tries to figure out how to balance three plates at once. 

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven: Christmas for Two

Plot: Away from their families, Jamie and Y/n attempt to do Christmas together.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: f!reader, language, talk of alcoholism, child abuse/neglect

A/N: A little Christmas in July/Phil Dunster Emmy nomination gift for you all! I have no clue what the timeline on s3 is, but this felt like a good place to put a Christmas chapter. I also did my best to combine English and American Christmas traditions/vernacular, hopefully did okay. Hope you enjoy!! 🎄❤️

—————

The coach’s office was a mess of ribbons and wrapping paper.

Ted gasped as he opened the box sat in his lap, “You are kiddin’ me.”

Stood in a corner of the room, Y/n beamed.

“C’mon now,” Ted pulled out the bottle of American barbecue sauce, “Where’d you find this?”

“Specialty store in Chiswick,” Y/n replied, “I was there seeing if Britain had finally caved and brought over Ben and Jerry’s. Spoiler alert: they have not.”

Ted was grinning ear to ear, “Man, this is special. Thank you, Y/n.”

On their traditional half-day of work on Christmas, the AFC Richmond staff were holding their party. Gifts were exchanged and treats were eaten. One room over, the Greyhounds were having their own celebration.

“Yes, I think you’ve got us all beat for gifts,” Rebecca said from her corner, sniffing one of the tea bags in the collection Y/n had gifted her.

“Not true,” Y/n held up a finger before holding up the spa certificate Rebecca had just handed her. “I just know the power of American barbecue.”

“And yet,” Beard held out his hands in expectation, “None for me.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, knowing how happy he actually was with the philosophy book she’d found him.

“So,” Ted drummed his hands on his desk, “What’s everybody’s plans for today?”

“The Higgins’ door will be open and ready to receive any and all weary travelers,” Higgins volunteered, “I believe most of the boys are coming.”

“I’ve got dinner with Nora and Sassy,” Rebecca said.

“Fun,” Ted said, looking over across the room, “What about you, Roy?”

“Phoebe’s got a pageant at school,” the coach replied, “Fuck knows why it wasn’t last night.”

“Nice,” Ted smiled, “Y/n?”

Y/n exhaled, “Well, my sister couldn’t come over this year, so it’ll just be dinner with a friend.”

“What about your folks?” Ted asked.

“Yeah, uh,” Y/n tried to put on a smile, “They couldn’t make it either.”

“Too bad,” Higgins empathized, “Well, if you and your friend don’t feel like cooking, there’s always room at our table.”

Y/n nodded, “Thanks.”

Things lasted another half hour or so before people began to trickle out, off to their respective plans. Y/n stayed behind, having volunteered to clean up since everyone else’s day was time sensitive. She was just tying the trash bag of wrapping paper when there was a knock.

Jamie hung on the frame that separated the coach’s offices, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Y/n set the bag in the corner of Roy’s office, “That’ll be Monday’s problem.”

Grabbing her bag of gifts and switching off the lights, Y/n glided past Jamie, who followed behind. They ducked out into the hall, some of the last people in the building.

Christmas was an off holiday for both of them. With the match against Crystal Palace that weekend, Jamie couldn’t get away to Manchester to visit his mom. And Y/n hadn’t lied when she said her sister couldn’t travel to spend the day with her, but she had lied about her parents. They had every opportunity to phone and ask her to come home, or to visit. They just chose not to.

So, with nowhere else to go, Jamie and Y/n had decided to spend the holiday together.

“Are there even any markets open on Christmas Day?” Y/n asked once they were in the parking lot.

“Yeah, I think there’s one near here,” Jamie unlocked his car door. They’d carpooled in the interest of the shopping they had planned after the party.

“I hope you thought right,” Y/n said as she climbed in the passenger seat, “Or else it’s going to be a pretty funky dinner.”

Jamie had, indeed, guessed right. There was one market open for half a day in Richmond for the cooks who’d forgotten that one ingredient. Y/n and Jamie, however, were starting completely from scratch.

“Okay,” Jamie tugged on one of the shopping trolleys and swung it around, “What do we need?”

“Everything,” Y/n stated, “You ever cooked a Christmas dinner?”

“Uh, no,” he replied, “You? We’re fucked if you say no.”

Y/n scanned the rows of aisles, unsure of where to start. “No, I have. It’s just been a while. Like, not-since-America while.”

Jamie puffed out his cheeks, “Right.”

“Okay,” Y/n clapped her hands together, “Turkey. Main attraction. Let’s start there.”

Down the aisle where the entrees should have been, there was an empty case. A few lonesome birds were still chilling, but it was clear all the good ones had been chosen long ago.

“So we’ve either got a fuckin’ Goliath,” Jamie held up a massive turkey in one arm, then the smallest in his other, “Or its baby.”

Y/n crinkled her nose at the colorful description. “I mean, that one’s meant for way more than two people,” she pointed to the first option, “It’s not like we need leftovers.“

Jamie nodded, that was true. Roy had allowed him one cheat day for the holidays, the free pass ended at 12AM, December 26th. But be was determined to enjoy the one meal.

“So the baby?” Jamie held up the small bird.

“If you stop calling it that,” Y/n grabbed the cart, “Yes.”

Jamie laughed cheekily, setting the turkey in the basket. “Right, what else?”

“Stuffing, potatoes, something for dessert,” Y/n listed items off her mental menu. She glanced over at Jamie, “Really hope we can cook.”

They went around the rest of the store, picking leftovers off the barren shelves. Unfortunately, that left either the specialty items or the nearly expired dishes, which was how they ended up with the most expensive potatoes, gluten free stuffing mix and a pudding that was on its sell-by date.

“Who was your secret Santa?” Y/n asked as they passed the wine aisle.

“Dani,” Jamie answered, “Why?”

Y/n stopped and backtracked her steps, reaching for the first bottle of red wine she saw. She’d stopped by the locker room on occasions where the Greyhounds won and had caught a whiff of the strong Mexican liquor Dani favored. A world didn’t exist where she felt like subjecting her stomach to that.

“Smart,” Jamie agreed as she popped the drink in the trolley.

They managed to get in and out quick enough that the only person who recognized Jamie was the cashier, who didn’t do more than wish him luck on the upcoming match. Y/n wasn’t used to worrying about being photographed, but she knew that any time she stepped out with Jamie, there was a chance of it.

As they loaded the bags into the boot of Jamie’s car, Y/n caught one lone present, wrapped and tied with a ribbon, pushed to the side.

“Did you forget someone today?”

“Huh?” Jamie hummed. Y/n pointed to the box. “Ah, no,” he shut the boot before she could get a better look and smirked, “That’s for later.”

Y/n pursed her lips a little, smiling as Jamie walked the cart back to its station.

“Alright,” he said as they got back in the car, “We doin’ this at my place or yours?”

Y/n thought for a second, “Do you even know how to use your kitchen?”

“Course I do,” Jamie paused a second, “I mean…pretty sure.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n chuckled, “My place it is. That, or we ask Sam for the keys to the restaurant.”

Jamie backed the car out of its spot, “Think we need to have a bit more confidence for that.”

Y/n agreed silently, before her thoughts fell to the inevitable. A few weeks prior, during the whole Twitter fiasco, Sam’s restaurant had been broken into and destroyed. The night of the Arsenal match, the boys had all gone over to repair it, surprising Sam. Y/n had yet to see it in its restored glory.

“I feel like we got a pretty good handle, though,” Jamie interrupted her thoughts, “We got the meal, the crackers, place’ll be all decorated…”

Hoping his eyes were more focused on the road then her, Y/n grimaced.

“Yeah,” she said, “That’s, uh…”

“What?” Jamie asked.

“I’m not…totally decorated,” Y/n struggled to get out.

“You’ve got a tree at least, yeah?” Jamie replied.

Silence.

Fate bestowed him a red light, and Jamie turned to Y/n with widened eyes. “You haven’t got a tree? The fuck’s wrong with you?”

“I’ve been busy,” Y/n defended the decision, “I’ve barely been home between the away games and working late. There wasn’t much of a point in getting one.”

Jamie let his hand smack against the steering wheel, “Unbelievable.”

“Wha- you don’t have one either,” Y/n argued. There’d been a stunning lack of Christmas cheer in Jamie’s house the last week when he’d been appointed to host the monthly team dinner.

“That’s different,” Jamie put his foot to the gas as the car behind him honked.

“How?” Y/n laughed.

Jamie shrugged, “I dunno. You’re you. Figured you’d be one of those people who’s decoratin’ the day after Halloween.”

In another life, that was her. Y/n had been all over Christmas in her younger years. Every holiday was a speed bump in getting to December 24th and 25th. But once she’d graduated and started her corporate life, it became less and less of a big deal. If it was a year Caylee came to visit, she’d dust off decorations and make a show of it, but it just seemed sad to do it all on her own.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint,” Y/n smiled, ignoring the particular bit of backstory she didn’t feel like sharing.

“You’re not,” Jamie replied as he signaled to get into the next lane, “‘Cause we’re fixin’ this.”

Y/n looked out the window, the turn that would’ve been theirs was drifting further and further away. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Ten minutes later, Jamie was pulling the car into a Christmas tree lot. Or rather, what once was a Christmas tree lot.

“Can’t believe these places are even open today,” Y/n commented as they walked up to the shop.

“They’re here for the sad sacks who wait till the last minute,” Jamie remarked smugly, nudging Y/n’s elbow with his.

Like the market, the lot was sparse. The only trees left were either the type that shed its needles if you breathed on it or the ones that were already turning brown.

“I’m not overwhelmed by our options,” Y/n said, scanning the rows over again.

“Hang on,” Jamie climbed behind one of the half-dead ones, having spotted a flash of green as he’d passed. He pulled out a miniature one that barely went up to his waist.

“It truly is a Charlie Brown Christmas,” Y/n remarked, smiling at the juxtaposition between Jamie’s size and the tree.

“I mean, it is going in the bin tomorrow, innit?” Jamie picked up the glorified shrub and brought it to the poor worker stuck there on Christmas Day. “We’ll take this one.”

“And we’ll just stick it in the car,” Y/n added, catching Jamie’s confusion and whispering, “We are not making him go to the trouble of tying a houseplant to the roof.”

As Y/n handed the worker a few bills, Jamie spotted a small stack of ornaments and stands for sale as well. He grabbed one of each and pulled a few pounds out his wallet, adding to the total.

“Thank you,” Y/n said to the man, “Merry Christmas.”

Jamie looked proud as they walked back to the car, “Now it’s Christmas.”

Y/n couldn’t argue with him.

—————————

Once they got back to Y/n’s place, Jamie took over unpacking the groceries, while Y/n dug through the hall closet to find some lights for the tree.

“Oi,” Jamie called down the hallway, holding the box of stuffing, “We can still cook this normal, yeah? We don’t have to do anything different.”

“I would think,” Y/n yelled back, waist deep in old boxes, “It’s just bread.”

Jamie went back to the kitchen, he remembered his way around from when they’d unpacked it months ago. The only thing that had changed was the light fixture.

“That’s new,” he said, hearing Y/n’s footsteps approaching.

“Oh, yeah,” she replied, setting an old strand of multicolored lights on the counter, “Ted helped me install it last week. Couple shocks…mostly Ted, but we got it up.”

Jamie chuckled.

“Okay,” Y/n looked to the pile of food beside the stove, “I’ll do the turkey, you start on sides?”

Giving a little salute, Jamie went about grabbing bowls and spoons. Y/n pre-heated the oven and took the turkey out of its wrapping.

“Ugh,” she groaned, peeking inside the bird, “I forgot how disgusting this part is.”

Jamie glanced over and scoffed, “Nope.”

Y/n shut her eyes as she reached in and pulled out the giblets, nearly gagging as she did.

“Carry on with that,” Jamie teased, making a show of pouring in the very dry stuffing mix, “I’ll stay doing this.”

Annoyed, and slightly jealous, Y/n cupped the unmentionable parts of the turkey in her hands and approached Jamie.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he held up a wooden spoon as if it were a shield, “Get away. There’s probably, like, four different bird diseases in there.”

“Yep,” Y/n continued walking towards him, “Don’t get smug in my kitchen, or you’ll be benched with three of them.”

Jamie held up his hands in defeat, “Truce.”

The two of them snorted and snickered before carrying on with their tasks.

It all flowed rather well. Even though they were lacking in skill, Y/n and Jamie felt good about how well everything seemed to be going. In between mixing and flipping, they managed to get the tree in its stand and start decorating. As Jamie was finishing with the ornaments, Y/n popped over to check the turkey, surprised by what she found.

“Shit,” she exclaimed, reaching for the oven mitts.

“What?” Jamie called.

Hurriedly, she opened the oven door and pulled the bird out. The outer layer was far beyond well done, looking tough and chewy.

Jamie entered then, puzzled, but chuckling. “Thought you said you knew how to cook a dinner.”

“I do,” Y/n replied, her voice jumping an octave, “With a much bigger bird. This is a pigeon!”

Jamie was full on laughing by then, covering his mouth.

“Oh, yeah, Padma Lakshmi,” Y/n retorted with a smirk, “Smell that?”

The air was thick with the scent of something burning, and it wasn’t the meat. Jamie pushed past Y/n to get to the stuffing and potatoes he’d put on. Determining the stuffing was the cause of the scent, he switched the burner off and attempted to scoop it out of the pot.

What came out was one giant clump, burnt to a crisp on the bottom and around the edges.

Y/n snorted as she set the turkey on the counter, hand on her hip as she watched Jamie work up a reply. When he came up with nothing, holding the burnt blob on an oversized fork, the two of them fell into a fit of laughter.

In the spirit of Christmas magic, they were able to salvage the dinner. They scooped out the good stuffing, trimmed the chewy parts of the turkey off, and agreed the potatoes were the only dish that looked semi-normal.

After, with their paper crowns on their heads, Jamie and Y/n sat on opposite ends of the couch, still amused at their efforts.

“I think we did pretty good,” Jamie gestured to his chest.

Y/n made a doubtful noise, “We’re a ways away from opening our own Ola’s.”

“We’re keeping takeaways in business,” Jamie replied, “Think about it that way.”

“Oh, that we are,” Y/n smiled, taking a sip of wine, “That we are. And hey, you got to eat.”

Jamie slapped a hand over his sated stomach, “Don’t know if my body’s knows what to do with it.”

Y/n laughed before Jamie smacked his hands together. “Right, time for gifts.”

Y/n stayed in her spot, “That’s assuming I got you anything.”

Jamie looked back from the front door, shooting her a quirked eyebrow. Y/n smiled and got up, like there was a chance in hell she’d have neglected to get him something.

They each went to retrieve the gifts, meeting back on the couch. Jamie was holding the mystery box he’d had stashed in his trunk.

“You first,” he said as they swapped packages.

Y/n unwrapped the square, nearly holding her breath as she took off the box’s lid. Peeling back the tissue paper revealed-

“Oh, good Lord.”

Jamie was somewhere between a grin and a smirk. Whatever it was, he wore it proudly.

Y/n held up the #9 ‘Tartt’ jersey and smirked at Jamie. “Really?”

“You’re gonna work at a football club, you gotta have a kit,” Jamie shrugged.

“And it had to be #9, huh?” Y/n quirked an eyebrow, “Couldn’t have been Colin or Sam’s?”

Jamie scoffed, “They ain’t your favorite.”

Y/n let out a single laugh, “What makes you think you are?”

“Don’t see either of them sittin’ here on Christmas with ya,” Jamie replied, “In a flat they found for ya, eatin’ a dinner they cooked with ya.”

It was hard not to laugh at Jamie’s cockiness. Behind the raging over-confidence, there was something sweet behind the gesture that Y/n could appreciate.

“Well,” Y/n set the jersey back in the box, “I’m not wearing it to matches.”

“Oh, why not?” Jamie asked unseriously.

“Because I’m there for all of you,” Y/n smirked, “And if I’m wearing anyone’s shirt, it’ll be Roy’s.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jamie moaned. Roy and Y/n had bonded on the mornings she joined them for training. The two of them took such joy in torturing Jamie.

Y/n set the Tartt box to the side and handed Jamie his gift. He went about unwrapping it, a little speechless when he removed the last of the paper.

“This from last week’s match?” He asked.

“Mm-hm,” Y/n hummed, hugging her legs to her chest.

In a thick silver frame was a picture of the Greyhounds on the pitch at Nelson Road. Sam, Jamie and Isaac were the most prominently featured. Sam had just scored a goal and a heap of the players were celebrating. It was a perfect representation of the brotherhood they carried with them on and off the field.

“One of the photographers snapped it and I asked him to send it to me,” Y/n explained, “I noticed you didn’t have any pictures up at your place, thought this could be the first one.”

Jamie’s home decor was less than personal. His first few years in the Premier League hadn’t come with many close relationships, his own fault. Most of his family pictures were tainted with memories of something that had happened the days they were taken involving his dad. That didn’t leave him many options.

But this, Jamie thought as he weighed the frame in his hand, this was special. Not only was it his team, his mates, his place in the world, but Y/n had seen the value of it all.

Jamie looked up at her, the corners of his lips tugging upwards, “I love it.”

Y/n grinned, shopping for everyone had been stressful. It had been a long time since she’d had to choose personal gifts, and there’d been a part of her that wanted to throw away the whole gesture. But she’d pushed past her instincts, choosing to give into sentiment. One look at how touched Jamie and the others had been told her it had been worth it.

“Well,” Jamie set the frame on the coffee table, next to his kit, “We can call this a win, yeah?”

“For sure,” Y/n said, reaching out to clink her wine glass against Jamie’s, “Best makeshift Christmas ever.”

“Yeah,” Jamie cackled.

“Best Christmas you’ve ever had?” Y/n asked, “Go.”

Jamie blew out a breath, thinking back. The last few holidays had been spent either in Manchester with his mum or on his own. Two years before, when he was back at Man City, he’d ended up with his dad for part of the day, which left him miserable. If he was being honest, the last Christmas Jamie had truly enjoyed was the one he was currently celebrating.

“Eh, probably when I were a kid,” he answered, “Forget how old I was, but it was the first year I remember being really into football. Me mum got me my first kit.”

Y/n looked over her wineglass, “Was it Roy’s?”

Jamie sighed, glaring softly at her, “Not the point.”

Y/n chortled.

“It was one year me dad was too drunk to remember what day it were,” Jamie went on, his eyes falling on the wall as the memories hit, “Spent the whole day worried he was gonna show up, but…never did. By dinner, I think even mum knew he weren’t coming ‘round, and everything just sorta…relaxed, y’know? Didn’t feel like Christmas till then.”

Jamie’s blue eyes melted into some sort of sad resignation. It was a piece of his history that still hurt, but enough time had passed to see the silver lining, if there was one to be found. He wouldn’t have told the story to anyone else, but this was Y/n. She understood.

Y/n smiled softly, feeling the melancholia. “And you went to bed wearing your little Roy Kent jersey?”

Jamie’s smile came back, thankful for the change in tone. “Fuck you,” he replied, downing the last of his wine, “Right, what’s yours?”

Y/n sighed, like Jamie, there weren’t many to pick from. “Probably when I was eleven. My parents were hosting some party and they pawned me and my sister off on our grandparents. I think they could see that they had zero interest in being with us or giving us a good Christmas, so they went overboard. My grandma got me and Caylee in the kitchen cooking with her,” Y/n glanced at the kitchen where the remnants of dinner sat, “Clearly none of the skills stuck with me. My grandpa had all the movies playing, he tried to keep us laughing as much as he could.”

Taking a breath, Y/n continued, “I remember Caylee and I wrote this Christmas play before dinner. There was a lot of dancing and a lot of off-key singing,” she laughed, Jamie snorted, “But…damn it if our grandparents weren’t up on their feet clapping as if we’d just done Hamlet.”

Though shitty parents came as no surprise to Jamie, he was still a bit shocked. His voice was soft as he asked, “They really just left you?”

Y/n nodded, hugging herself, “Most years.”

The two of them sat in silence, their mutual history sitting in the gap between their bodies. The holidays amplified the best in the world, goodwill and generosity, but for those already hurting, the ever-present loneliness only intensified.

“Don’t know why people have kids if they don’t want ‘em,” Jamie mused, his eyes flitting to Y/n.

She shrugged, her hand curled against her lips. “I’ve been asking myself that since I was old enough to. Haven’t found an answer yet.”

In the moment their eyes met, Y/n and Jamie were struck by just how similar they really were. They’d known it already, it was one of the reasons they got along so well, but it felt like there was a different reality to it. Another layer peeled back, another piece of themselves they were entrusting to the other. And, above all other things, it was safe.

Y/n sniffled, wiping a stray tear away, “This is getting depressing. It’s Christmas.”

“Yeah,” Jamie cleared his throat.

Climbing off the sofa, Y/n went over to the kitchen bar and grabbed her Bluetooth speaker. She connected her phone and pulled up her Christmas playlist.

Jamie watched from his spot on the couch as she slid over to him, hand extended. “What are we doing?”

“We’re going to dance,” Y/n replied, “And we’re going to celebrate the fact that it’s Christmas and we’re somewhere better than we’ve been.”

If it were another day, Jamie wouldn’t have hesitated to make some joke of what Y/n had said. How of course it was better, because he was there. But all he really wanted to do, and what he did do, was take her hand, anchor them together and dance to whatever overly cheery song was playing.

All over Richmond, the uplifting mood was hitting its peak. Ted was on the phone with Henry, sharing his dinner and his son’s lunch, talking about what Santa had brought. Rebecca was giggling with Nora and Sassy at a five star restaurant. Keeley was seated at a full family table at her mother’s. Roy was with his sister, applauding Phoebe as her and her classmates took their bows. Beard was helping Leslie carve a massive turkey as Sam, Dani, Jan, and the rest of the Greyhounds sat around foldout tables. Y/n and Jamie were giggling uncontrollably as he picked her up and spun her around, the sounds of Nat King Cole filling the flat.

For all of them, it was Christmas to remember.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars

[alwritey-aphrodite]

day at the pool with our boy James Tartt <3

Anything for you, my beautiful and smart-as-hell wife <3

2023 Summer Blurbs

Fuck Jamie Tartt and fuck his slutty little shorts.

This was a family event, with Keeley and Roy and sweet little Phoebe, and Jamie’s running around showing off his perfect fucking thighs. Damn everyone who decided men should start wearing 5 inch inseams on their shorts.

And it wasn’t that he looked bad, or ridiculous the way he did when he wore his hair all slicked back, he looks infuriatingly good. And there was nothing you could do or say about it.

“Oi!” A voice from behind you shouts, paired with hands squeezing your waist, making you squeal and quickly turn your head from where Roy and Jamie are attempting to push each other into the pool as Phoebe watches on and giggles to see Keeley with a giant grin on her face.

“Jesus, Keeley, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you respond with a hand over your rapidly beating heart to prove your point, but she just laughs at you.

“You’re allowed to talk to him, y’know,” she tells you with a sly smile as Jamie and Roy go splashing into the pool and Phoebe falls into a fit of laughter.

“I have no idea what you mean.” You try to slip away and make your way to your sunchair, but Keeley just sits down next to you, that knowing smile of hers never leaving her face.

“Don’t you think it’s a little weird there are so many adults at Phoebe’s party?” You ask, trying to change the subject while trying not to watch as Jamie hoists himself out of the water.

“Well, she’s gotta invite Roy, and Jamie’s Roy’s best friend, and she has to invite me because she loves me, and she has to invite you because we’re besties.” Keeley explains it all very clearly, and you can’t help but to laugh.

Phoebe, despite being a child, is one of your favorite people in the world, and you’re really just thankful she likes you enough to invite you to this pool party of hers.

And not just because it means you get to stare at Jamie, soaking wet in his swim shorts.

You and Keeley carry on talking, Phoebe coming over to join you when her mom runs back inside to grab more drinks, and you’re so carried away with your girl talk, getting all the drama from Phoebe about her classmates, that you barely notice when a dripping-wet shadow blocks the sun.

Suddenly, a pair of hands are grabbing and tugging you up from your spot on the sunchair, your protests and attempts to grab at Keeley for help practically useless as you get dragged closer and closer to the edge of the pool. You’re so disoriented that it’s not until you catch a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of your eye that you realize Jamie is the one terrorizing you.

Before you can tell him to stop, the two of you go tumbling into the water, his hands a firm grip on your waist. Sputtering, you break through the surface to see Phoebe laughing at you, and it’s practically impossible to keep a smile off your face when you hear that sound. Jamie has a proud look on his face, and you just roll your eyes when he leads forward to kiss you.

So much for keeping your relationship a secret for now.

[daydreamgoddess14]

Support System pt. 5

MASTERLIST

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4

Roy Kent x Reader

I'm on a roll. Roy Kent making me feel things 🥵 This one is a bit angsty but buckle up - we're getting to the good stuff soon!

Yes, this is the second update in one day... what of it? That picture of his thighs made me do it.

Chapter 5

The rest of the week goes as you’d originally planned for the most part. Lexie was absolutely fine to go to school the next day and you’d already worked out your work plans based on when you were actively trying to avoid Roy. Now, you weren’t so sure that you wanted to do that. By Thursday, you could feel a low ache inside but couldn’t put a finger on it. Work hadn’t been happy that you’d ducked out on Monday afternoon, but you’d tried to fight your corner. It became clearer that they weren’t the business you wanted to work for.

It had left an annoying feeling behind that no matter what you did, you weren’t enough for them. So much so, that by Wednesday, you took in a letter of resignation. They made some noise about becoming more flexible but not wanting to alienate other people who worked for them - they called it ‘special treatment’. You’d argued that everyone should be given more flexibility and more support in their work-life balance - no matter what that life outside of work looked like. They’d painted you as the bad guy and made it look like Lexie was the reason for needing flexibility when, really, you wanted the same for everyone in the business. Giving two months' notice terrified you, it accelerated the need to find a new job. You had savings, but they wouldn’t cover your bills forever. Every night saw you scouring the job sites for something as close to Richmond as possible. But all of that wasn’t the cause of the ache. It was more of an anticipation. Butterflies at rest. You’re approaching the school doors on Thursday afternoon, getting ready to join the queue of people picking up, when you see both Sara and Roy. The butterflies are suddenly up in arms, and the ache explodes into something more. Oh shit.

“Hey! Has your week picked up? Roy said he had to rescue you on Monday, was Andy a total dickbag?”

“Oh god he was horrible, I have no idea looking back now why the fuck I married him. And my week is bloody terrible - I quit my job.”

“What?!”

“Why the fuck did you do that?”

“I couldn’t carry on the way I was, it was a nightmare. With both them and Andy not being remotely supportive it just makes life so difficult.”

“What are you gonna do?” Roy frowned.

“I’m looking for something closer to Richmond if possible. If not, then the city is fine but the company has got to be a bit more progressive than where I am now. Trouble is there’s not much call for deputy Directors.”

“What about skipping the deputy bit?” Sara asked. You shake your head,

“Don’t think it’ll work. Typically that would be too much - more hours, more demanding. I love my work and I can handle demanding - like, really demanding. But I desperately need the flexibility so I can be around for Lexie.” Sara nodded.

“I get you. You should get yourself a Roy, they’re invaluable.” She poked her brother lovingly. You ignore the comment and the fuck off he responds with. “Easter holidays next week! Are you doing anything?”

“I was going to try and go away for the day somewhere. Jump on the train down to Brighton or something?”

“That’s a great idea! I’m off for a couple of days - we should all go.” The girls pour out of school hand in hand and you agree with Sara to plan a beach day trip. In the meantime though, the girls demand another sleepover. “I’m working honey, but if Uncle Roy can take you then of course you can go. As long as it’s ok with Lexie’s mum.”

“Course it is. I’d love to have you, Phoebe. Friday or Saturday, whichever is easiest for you.” You tell Roy.

“Do Saturday and you can all come to the match on Sunday?”

“Yeah, ok, we’d like that.” You smile and the butterflies go crazy. 

~~~~~~~

Lexie insists on a full on pajama party for her sleepover, she makes you bring blankets and pillows downstairs and banishes you to any other room - preferably the kitchen so you can keep them supplied with snacks. By the time Phoebe arrives at 4pm, she’s transformed the living room into some sort of Disney inspired boudoir.

“Come in.” You smile at them both, opening the door wide. Phoebe heads straight for the living room and the door is firmly closed. “Well… I guess they don’t need me.”

“What are you going to do instead?” Roy asks curiously.

“I have a book and a bottle of wine in the kitchen, that’s me all set.” Giggles and bangs sound from the next room, “Not sure I’ll be getting much sleep though. Beer? Wine?”

“Yeah go on then.” He follows you to the kitchen and picks up your book before he’s even sat down. After reading the blurb he takes a picture of the cover.

“You can have it when I’m done.” You offer, turning down the speaker which had been blasting Taylor Swift a little too loudly.

“Not you as well,” he pointed at the speaker. “This is all I get to listen to.”

“They’re 8. She’s like their queen. And yes, I can’t help listening to it as well.” You smile. “Would you like to stay for dinner? I can’t promise Anna and Elsa will join us, but you’re still welcome to stick around.”

“Thanks.” Watching you potter around the kitchen for a while, he picks up the book, makes sure to save your place and flips to the beginning. Assuming he’s engrossed, you concentrate on cutting bell peppers and onions for fajitas, the silence is comfortable, he’s so quiet you pretty much forget he’s there. The music still plays in the background,

“All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life. Got a feelin' your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life. And I want you now, wanna need you forever. In the heat of your electric touch,” you sing softly, bopping to the music. It’s not until you go into the pantry under the stairs for spices and see him at the table, watching you, that you remember he’s there. “Fajitas ok?” You stop short and clear your throat. There’s a smile just bubbling in the corner of his mouth, waiting to break free.

“Forget you had company?”

“Fuck off. Maybe.”

“Fajitas are great, thanks.” You forget shyness and awkwardness. It’s your new favourite song so despite his presence, you carry on as you were with slightly less dancing. The girls are persuaded to join you for dinner, even helping you with the homemade guacamole. Roy puts up with the three of you singing along to Taylor Swift at various pitches. “You sound like a bunch of fucking cats.” Phoebe responds by singing loudly down his ear with her wooden spoon microphone.

When the girls are settled with popcorn and a film, you see him to the door. “You’re not stupid, you know.”

“Pardon?”

“Last week. You called yourself stupid. Fucking repeatedly actually, and you’re wrong.”

“Oh. Umm… thanks. Felt pretty stupid. Anyway, like I said, I made a mistake.”

“Yep. Begged me to forget it.” He said quietly. The way he lingered on his words had your heart thumping and your body flooding with desire. You’re sure you must be trembling, your thighs press together and you swear you could come apart just from the way he’s looking at you. But then the girls are dancing through the hall and it’s a sharp reminder that you’re not alone. You see the disappointment flicker in his eyes right before he gives you a small smile, “goodnight. Call me if Phoebe starts playing up. Tickets are waiting for you for the match tomorrow.” You nod, not sure you can trust your voice to stay steady, not really sure you can trust yourself to put a full sentence together.

“Bye.” You whisper. 

~~~~~~

“Lexie! Come on, we need to go and get the train!”

“I can’t find my goggles!”

“You don’t need goggles, darling, the sea is going to be freezing! I know it’s a heatwave but I don’t expect much swimming!” Who were you kidding, two 8 year olds in a heatwave would absolutely be getting in the sea at the first opportunity. You had a beach bag packed with suncream, towels and everything else you could possibly need. You and Sara had planned together so that you didn’t duplicate and have too much to carry. “Lexie! Let’s go!” She bounces down the stairs and straight out the door, leaving you trailing after her. At the station, Sara and Phoebe are already waiting and you're surprised to see Roy with them. “Sorry, couldn’t get Lexie out the door!” You hadn’t seen Roy since the night the girls had their sleepover, apart from seeing him down at pitchside for the football match. It was Tuesday and the last couple of days had felt like an eternity. You feel his eyes looking you up and down as you approach the platform. You get on the tube into the city and change for the train to Brighton. The Easter holidays meant everyone had a similar idea and the trains are packed and hot. Your sundress and hat are no match for the heat, you have to take your hat off and use it to fan both you and Sara. You’ve given the girls the only two seats you could find so the three of you stand to one side to keep the aisle clear.

“Fuck this. I should have driven.”

“Where’s the fun in that!” Sara laughed.

“How are you not hot?” You ask, he’s still in jeans and a t-shirt.

“Thought I was?” He asked quietly while Sara was distracted looking back to check on the girls. You roll your eyes and shake your head, turning away from him to look out of the window. “You look lovely.” He adds, putting a hand on your hip as the train sways you from side to side. He doesn’t move it once the train has steadied. When you get there, you follow the crowds down to the beach, the girls running slightly ahead and Sara and Roy either side of you. As you get closer to the beach, Sara steps in between the girls and takes their hand to keep them close. You get caught up in a group of people but you can still see Sara up in front. Through the crowd, a hand takes yours and pulls you in. Roy interlinks your fingers. “Don’t get fucking lost, we’ll never find you.” He says. Sara waves that she’s found a space and you make your way in her direction, not letting go of his hand. The second you put Lexie’s hat back on her head after smothering her in suncream, she grabs Phoebe’s hand and runs to the sea.

“Stay in sight!” Sara tries shouting after them but it’s impossible to tell whether they’ve heard. 

“I’ll go,” you offer with a grimace, “let’s see how fucking cold it is.” You kick off your sandals and pull your sundress over your head, revealing a royal blue swimsuit underneath.

“Aha!” Sara stops you and throws a bottle in your direction, “cream first. I’ll go and find us some drinks. Beers?”

“Ooh yes please.” She goes off in the direction of the beach vendors. You spray your shoulders and arms with the sticky cream, trying to get as much of your back as you can. Once you’ve finished, you pass the bottle to Roy, avoiding his gaze.

“Be careful,” he says softly, you can’t see his eyes through his dark sunglasses, fortunately. You squeal as the water hits your legs,

“It’s fucking freezing!” You shout to Sara as she returns with three bottles of beer and two of fizzy pop. She leaves everything with Roy and joins you as you watch the girls play mermaids in the cool, shallow water. “This was such a good idea. I needed this.” You hold your hat and look up to the sky, basking in the warm sunshine. 

“Such a good idea,” she agrees. “Though I thought Roy’s brain was going to short circuit when you pulled that bloody dress off! God, it was bad enough when you came down onto the platform earlier - I think he stopped breathing! But then with that underneath,” she gestures up and down your body and whistled,

“Oh don’t be daft.”

“I’m not, you look great. And Roy thinks so too.”

“Hmm if you say so.”

“I’m his sister. I have met every woman he’s ever brought home. Every model, actress, singer… you name it. Back then, when he was younger, he did it because he knew it was what was expected of a hotshot footballer for Chelsea. You get the hot girls. But fuck, they were boring. He was boring when he was with them! Since he’s gotten older, he doesn’t give a shit. Dates whoever he wants. Keeley was lovely but not quite right for him. He might look and act like a grumpy fucker, but he has so much love to give and he wants to be loved. He’s intense, I know. But when he finds the right person, god she’s never going to want for anything.” You’ve both waded into the water up to your thighs, your hands drift across the top of the water. 

“I’ve never been loved like that.” You admit.

“Me either. Be pretty fucking good wouldn’t it?” She laughs. "Also, we definitely deserve it."

"Oh god, we really fucking deserve it!" 

~~~~~~~

You manage to persuade the girls to get out of the water for a bit so you can get food. While you've been gone, Roy has dug the girls beach towels from the bags, changed into shorts and is reading. You'd happily thank every god, deity, or lucky star for the sunglasses you're wearing because your eyes are drawn to his legs as if you haven't seen him play football for as long as you can remember. The sun dries you quickly so you pull your dress back on. "Who wants food?" You ask the girls, who are eager to agree. "I see chips. I'll be back as soon as I can, Lexie, be good for Sara and Roy please." 

"I'll help." Roy's on his feet before Sara who wiggles her toes in the sand and waves you both off. It's a short walk to the beach bar, but it's busy so Roy gets you both a beer while you wait. Space is limited but there's one side of a picnic bench spare for you to share. Your knees knock together as people squeeze by and there's hardly enough room for you to sit side by side. He turns on the bench to put one leg either side of the seat and you mirror him. Your back is to his chest but you don't lean back into him. His fingertip traces the strap of your dress from the top of your shoulder down to where it joined the back of your dress, across the centre of your back and up the other strap. His touch makes you shiver, even in the heat of the sun. "You need more cream, you're going pink," he said, "and you have freckles here." His knuckle grazes a line from the back of your ear into the dip of your neck and it's all you can do to breathe normally. The waitress comes over with a tray full of food cartons which you accept, grateful to give your hands something to do. You get up from the bench and hold the tray in one hand so you can offer the other to Roy while he bears his weight on his bad knee to get up from the table. You did it with such little fuss or acknowledgement that he's left staring after you as you start back down the beach to Sara and the girls. You find shade in the afternoon and take it in turns sitting with the bags to get out of the heat while the girls barely stop for more suncream and water. By the time you all pile back into the train home, they're exhausted and you're not much more awake. The return journey is quieter so you get a table with 4 seats. The girls squeeze into one and fall asleep almost instantly. Sara curls into Phoebe and watches out the window. She smiles across at you,

"Such a fucking great idea." She repeats your comment from earlier. 

"We're stopping over next time," you laugh quietly so you don't wake the kids, "I'm knackered!" She agrees and lets her eyes close. You do the same thing, your head coming to rest on Roy's shoulder. As you get back into the city, he brushes the hair from your eyes, 

"Time to wake up, nearly home." Your initial reaction is to push your face further into him, but this only makes him laugh. "Come on, and you," he kicks Sara under the table. No one is happy to be woken up. You drag yourselves to the underground, into a train back to Richmond and finally into Roy's car. It's not even that late - but it's been a long day. He drops Phoebe and Sara off first and then makes his way to yours. Living between the two has been a big bonus in terms of how much they've helped out with Lexie. She's asleep in the car, so he picks her up and carries her up the path. Once you've unlocked the house, he puts her on the sofa while you dump the overflowing bags in the hallway - forgotten hats and stuffed toys from the arcade spilling out. 

"Beer?" You whisper from the doorway, and he nods. You drink them standing side by side in the kitchen. You can't wait for a shower, your skin feels sticky with suncream, sea water, and the ice cream and sweets you've been eating all day. He pushes you gently with his arm, 

"Today was fucking brilliant."

"It really was. You must have spent a fortune winning those toys for the girls."

"Worth it. Won one for you as well, don't forget."

"How could I? I've always wanted a neon pink rubber duck." You grin. "It can keep me company in the bath."

"You're fucking killing me." He mutters, shaking his head. 

"What?"

"I've had to watch you in that swimsuit all fucking day and then you go and say shit like that?" He puts his empty bottle down and turns to stand in front of you, one hand either side of you on the kitchen counter. You're boxed in, but he's giving you enough space. You can tell he's giving you just enough time to say no, if that's what you want to do. You hold his gaze and don't say anything, the tiniest glance at his mouth is all the confirmation he needs to take the same step forward as he did a couple of weeks before. This time when his nose brushes against yours, it's less timid. He captures your mouth in a hot and fierce kiss. You turn your head just so, giving him better access and the hands that had stayed patiently on the counter were on you in half a second. One up in your hair and the other on your hip, your waist, the small of your back, bringing you as close as possible. Your hands move up his arms and around his neck, nails dragging through his hair. You've never been kissed like this before, never. It's so full of longing that it takes your breath away. His body presses against you, pushing you into the counter, his good knee between yours. Your head falls back so you can try to catch your breath but it's impossible when he moves to kiss a path down your neck. You can't help but moan as he nips at your sunburnt skin. You want more, so much more, but you know Lexie is only in the next room and the last thing you'd want is for her to wake up. The kiss has you in pieces already, it's intoxicating. He comes back to your mouth again for a slightly tamer kiss, "you taste like sunshine," he smiles. You open your eyes just to see it and it's beautiful. Both breathless, he takes the smallest step back. Somewhere in the hallway, your phone rings, bringing you both back to reality. You let it ring, reluctant to move away from his touch, eyes still only on each other, when Lexie brings the phone in with a big yawn.

"It's daddy." She says, handing it to you, and you see the defeat in Roy's eyes.

~~~~~

[amuseoffyre]

Thinking about all the different shades of performative masculinity represented in Ted Lasso and all the ways the characters are gradually overcoming them to simply be themselves.

You’ve got Ted being the chipper country lad, who papers over all his traumas and insecurity with humour, pouring out so much of himself to help and support others that he keeps nothing for himself to the detriment of his marriage and his friendships. He’s learned to accept the negative emotions aren’t something to be ashamed of or hidden from or something that makes you a weak or bad person, which is allowing him to process them and deal with them in a healthy way.

You’ve got Jamie who was so convinced he had to be the Prick and the Big Man that he turned into a mirror of his father, but with an emotional support squad and some encouragement, he’s unpicking all that. Over three seasons, he’s becoming more and more confident in himself and how he comes across and even feels validated in sharing his opinions and thoughts instead of throwing a tantrum and saying “I’m hurt” like he did in S1.

You’ve got Roy who still carries some of the Big Man and Prick mentality he had from 20 years of being a premiere league footballer, but we get to see it tempered by how big his heart is, especially around Keeley and Phoebe and how much he lets himself care. He’s reached a point where he speaks about his vulnerabilities and emotions, even if he couches it in metaphors and instead of immediately resorting to violence and headbutting people, he will use his words instead. Okay yes, and some growling, but there is distinctly less headbutting this season.

You’ve got Trent who wielded words like a weapon, disparaging and dismissive and cutting down the footballers who he could never be. He loved the sport, but he hated the way he was treated as someone who couldn’t do it, so the pen became mightier than the sword. He became the edgy hard-nosed infamous reporter people came to fear. Only now, he’s given up his cutting, scathing words for a story with heart and soul and a story that has him so excited, he forgets all about the way he’s presented himself for years and is just giddy and not afraid to let everyone see it.

You’ve got Nate who has been condescended to and belittled so much his entire life that he assumes the worst in every situation. He’s trying to become “the big dog”. He’s got the job he wanted through backstabbing, betrayal and being a dick, but now thanks to Rupert still condescending and belittling him, he’s gradually - oh so frigging slowly - starting to see that acting like the big dog as he sees it isn’t him. That he can be accepted as who he is instead of who he pretends to be.

You’ve got Colin who fell into step with Jamie’s influence back in the day, doing what Jamie wanted to get approval and acceptance, including being a bullying little toerag, but who is now learning to be more confident and sure of who he is to the point he can speak about his sexuality to someone from his workplace, even if he hadn’t planned on it.

You’ve got Sam who... yeah, no, who am I kidding? Sam is wonderful and lovely :D

I love this show so very much.

[itsclydebitches]

ok ok ok but imagine trent's daughter, Phoebe and Henry, on a playdate or exploring stadium together? Like how have these kiddos not become friends??

YOU'RE SO RIGHT, ANON.

Headcanon time:

During a weekend training Henry is visiting again, Roy's sister is sick so he's justifying the Best Uncle award Phoebe gave him last year (it's very glittery), and Trent's babysitter unexpectedly bailed. So they all trail into work with kids that day and Rebecca is like, "Excuse me this is not a fucking daycare."

She says this while giving them all a kiss.

Pheobe: "That's a bad word, Ms. Welton, you owe me a pound."

Henry and Phoebe immediately race outside to play with the team but Trent's daughter, who is both younger and has never played football before, is just the shiest little bean about joining in. Trent, expert in anxious parenting, is prepared to run damage control with her favorite coloring books but Ted holds him back and within ten minutes Phoebe is showing her the ropes while Henry is Very Seriously working to tie her hair back for her.

Henry: "Excuse me, Mr. Independent sir, but can I borrow another hair-tie?"

Trent: "... how do you know my name?"

Trent, internally: Wait. Mr. Independent isn't my name??

Trent, with shorter hair than in Season 2: "Never mind that. How do you know I have hair-ties?"

Henry, answering both questions: "Daddy."

[Trent.exe has stopped working]

Rebecca, shouting across the pitch: "Give her pigtails, Henry! There you go!"

So the crimmlet learns some football and Trent, after recovering from his Omg Ted Talks About Me to His Son panic almost sorta kinda cries about it. By this point the himbos are absolutely in love with the trio and would die for them, no hesitation. (Dani actually says this, which is mildly alarming for the kids). After some super secret techniques are shared -- Phoebe: "This is how you kick the ball into someone's face. Uncle Ted loves it!" -- they all decide that they should probably get some actual training done. Besides, Henry just brought up the West Ham game he went to and... uh...

Yeah. Best to scoot them on out of there. Unconditional love doesn't trump hatred of West Ham, unfortunately.

The stadium houses a team of pro athletes and a massive staff of sleep-deprived professionals, meaning that there's plenty of food to go around for lunch. Ted (childhood personified) and Trent (a domestic mess post-divorce) are both happy to let the kids pig out on snacks. A growled "Fuck that" from Roy sends them off to the kitchen downstairs.

Do stadiums have kitchens? No idea. Probably not. This one does!

Trent, carryout aficionado: "So... does anyone know how to cook?"

Roy: "Do I fucking look like I have time to cook?"

Trent: "This was your idea."

Roy: "Shut up."

Ted: "Hmm. I'm afraid I'm more of a baking man myself."

The kids have been sitting at the counter, heads ping-ponging back and forth as they watch their three guardians fail the basic task of feeding them. Luckily for their faith in adults, it's about this moment that the crimmlet remembers that this is Ted.

Biscuit Ted.

Did you know that Trent Crimm used to be in a band? A metal band? That for six months in college he rebelled in the only way he knew how - artistically - and screamed everything he was keeping bottled up inside until he learned to purge himself through vicious prose instead?

His daughter inherited his lungs.

A six-year-old's high-pitched screaming + the reverberation of a primarily metal space = Significant Pain. Ted's, "Holy moly, Ms. Banshee!" is barely audible and Roy just nopes out of the situation without a shred of guilt. Phoebe and Henry -- immune to loud noises in the way only children can be -- exchange a A Look over the top of the crimmlet's head. Because she's screaming for the biscuits Ted gives her every week.

Henry hasn't had his Dad's cookies in six months.

Phoebe hasn't had them at all.

Now the screaming is joined by Very Indignant Yelling.

Trent: "Ted just make them some fucking biscuits."

Ted: "Right because that's healthier than the vending machines!?"

But one sugary meal is worth saving their eardrums, so.

There's an immediate change in tune when Ted asks who's gonna help him lick the bowl. Instant peace. Baking with three kids is messy, to put it mildly, and Ted isn't entirely sure how flour got into Trent's hair, but it definitely has more white streaks in it than it did this morning. Without thinking, he reaches up to smooth some of the flour away, fingers dragging gently through a lock and brushing his cheek in the process.

[Trent.exe has stopped working x2]

Crimmlet, tugging his pantleg with little flour handprints: "Daddy can the biscuit man stay forever?"

Trent, voice strangled: "... sure, honey."

Higgins pops in to find an absolute disaster of a kitchen and the normally unruffled Trent with cheeks the color of maraschino cherries (what's that about?). After getting caught up on events -- what they're willing to admit to, anyway -- he gently informs them that he could have fixed the kids a meal not made out of sugar and butter. Ah well. Too late now.

Higgins: "Also, Ted, shouldn't you be coaching the boys?"

Ted: "I'm sure Beard has it well in hand."

[Hard cut to the team seated semi-circle around Beard. He's lecturing on the drugs they can take without tanking their careers. Many are taking notes.]

The one good thing about a sugar high is that the crash comes right afterwards. Pheobe managed to get the crimmlet on her shoulders and the three of them raced off to explore the stadium, burning with short-term energy. Trent is mildly concerned about them sneaking out, but Ted reassures him that there's security at every exit. You know, to keep any... uh...

Trent: Press out?

Ted: Not all the press.

Trent: Oh, so I'm an exception am I?

Higgins, still standing there, forgotten, thinking about the book Trent is writing and how yes, he's literally an exception??

Ted: Trent Crimm you are not only an exception, you are exceptional.

[Trent.exe has stopped working x3]

Higgins, internally: OHHHHHHHHH

Later, there is a brief moment of panic when they can't find the kids -- Roy: "Don't worry. I once lost Phoebe and she turned up in my neighbor's bathtub with a new haircut." Ted: "Huh. That there's a story for another time." -- but Will ushers them quietly into the storeroom where they're piled like puppies on a bed of clean laundry, fast asleep. Ted snaps a picture and immediately sends it to the Richmond group chat. The himbos all come running to see the wholesomeness for themselves.

Will, whispering: They're so cute!! ... wait, now I need to do the laundry again :(((

Dani: No. Do not. Their beautiful, sleepy essence will help us win games.

Will: ... weird, but alright.

Henry's getting a little big for this now, but Ted manages to lift him bridle style and gently presses a kiss into his hair. Trent tenderly picks his little girl up, hand cradling her curls.

Roy slings Phoebe over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She doesn't stir.

Rebecca sternly tells them that they're never to do this again, but also if she doesn't see the trio soon they'll regret it. Here's the ten pounds I owe Phoebe. Also there had better be some biscuits left, Ted.

Henry only wakes when they're back at the apartment, Beard flipping through nature documentaries while Ted kicks his legs up into his lap. Henry squeezes between the two of them.

Ted: "You have fun today, kiddo?"

Henry: "Uh huh."

Ted: "Hey, what's Trent's daughter's name anyway?"

Henry: "Oh... I never asked."

Beard tuts. "Why you wanna know so bad?"

Ted: "I just figure I should know his kid's name before I ask him out."

[Trent, twelve miles West, suddenly and without any warning getting hit with an absolute fuckton of feelings]:

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Unexpectedly Yours: Part 5

Fandom: Ted Lasso (Regency AU)

Pairing: Roy Kent x F!Reader

Summary: Lord Roy Kent still has yet to marry. He hates the notion that marriage is a way to ensure your status in society. You have delayed your debut to society for years because of the same idea. So what happens when two people who hate the idea of marriage are constantly drawn to each other?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You didn't want to speak to anyone the next morning after the dinner. You didn't want to see anyone. You were annoyed and slightly embarrassed with how you behaved last night.

You decided you'd stay in your room for the entire day. Cece had tried to get you to come out and play with her but you expressed that you weren't feeling well. Did you feel bad for lying to your cousin? Yes, but you really just needed to wallow in your room by yourself.

________________

"Lady Clara is here to see you, Miss." Jane announces as she peeks her head into your room.

You sigh, "Did you tell her that I'm feeling unwell?"

"Yes and she's very insistent that she sees you."

You groan as you sit up in your bed, "You may send her up, I guess."

Minutes go by and the door opens. Clara walks in, "Good day, Y/N."

You give a stiff nod, "Clara."

She clears her throat, "I came by to apologize. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable last night. It was never my intention. My brother has always told me how stubborn I can be. I just-I love him so much. He deserves to be happy. However, I understand that while you and my brother are amicable that doesn't mean you are to be with each other. I apologize greatly for practically forcing you to be together. I am ashamed to say that I'm no better than the rest of society," her head hands low in shame.

"I accept your apology, Clara. Thank you. I admire your love and concern for your brother. He's...a good man. He does deserve love in his life. I'm-I'm just not sure that's me."

Clara nods in understanding, "Yes, well, I'll leave you to rest. I hope you feel better soon," she gives a bow and sees herself out.

As soon as the door closes, you groan and fall back against your pillows.

______________

Roy watches as Cece and Phoebe run around the garden. He's glad that his niece found a friend after moving here. Things haven't been easy for the young girl, and Roy's always done his best to make sure she lives a loving and happy life.

He hears his sister before he sees her. She's walking down the path that leads to where he's sitting, a bench underneath a tree on the property.

"Where did you go off to?" he asks, eyes still on the young girls playing.

"I went to apologize to Y/N," Roy grunts and Clara continues, "I won't meddle anymore. I'm sorry that I've made things uncomfortable for you both."

He nods to his sister, "Thank you. She-She already feels so much pressure on her from her mother, society, she doesn't need more."

"I know, but, Roy...please be honest with me, do you care for her?"

Roy's jaw clenches and he looks away from Clara. He sighs, "I do, but, again, it's complicated. She's so...aggravating, smart mouthed, opinionated. But she's also sweet, she cares deeply for her friends and family. I can't help but be drawn to her."

Clara softly smiles at her brother, she places a hand on his shoulder, "I know I said I won't meddle, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to win her affections. I do think there may be something promising between you two and I don't mean in a business transaction way."

"Clara?"

"Hm?"

"Did you love Andrew?" Clara sits and thinks about her husband, who's passed, "I wouldn't say love, but I cared for him as a friend. He was definitely the best out of the other men that have asked to court me. He was kind, understanding. He's also the reason I have Phoebe. I may not have loved him in a romantic way, but I do hold him dear."

"Do you think you could've fallen in love with him over time?"

She shrugs, "Maybe."

Clara and Roy both look on to Cece and Phoebe who are rolling in the grass. Their laughter echoing throughout the property.

_____________________________

In the late afternoon, you eventually grew tired of your self-isolation. So you called upon Keeley and Jamie to join you for tea.

In the sitting room, the three of you are lounging, sipping from your cups.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," Keeley states as she takes a bite from a biscuit.

"It's been a few days, Keels," Jamie says with a snort.

She waves him off, "Too long. Tell me, what have you been up to?"

You sigh, setting your cup down, "My family and I had dinner with the Kents last night."

"Oh! I heard about that!" you look at her with a cocked brow, "Your mother told mine. Honestly, I'm a little upset you didn't tell me!"

"How was it? Was Lord Grumps his usual grumpy self?" Jamie asks with a smirk.

"We hardly interacted. He seemed quite miserable actually. Then his niece asked when Roy and I would get married." Keeley and Jamie give you a questioning look and you respond, "Because we played princess and dragons with them. They were the dragons, I was the princess, and Roy was the knight who saved me. The princess and the knight always get married in the stories they've read. Anyway, I told her that what we did was make believe and she got upset. She ran upstairs. Roy followed. Clara and my father made a comment that Roy and I should be together and I-I just got so annoyed and upset. I left the dinner."

"Y/N, why are you so against you and Lord Kent being together?" Jamie asks, genuinely.

"I-He-We're just so different. He's so uptight and grumpy all the time! He's probably only smiled five times in his life! Besides, Jamie, isn't he always rude to you?"

"He's rude to everyone, ain't he?" Jamie responds with a shrug.

You point to him, "That's another thing. He's rude!"

Keeley's interjects, "I think that's just him trying to protect himself from anyone getting too close and potentially hurting him." You and Jamie look at her confused, "What? It makes sense! I heard he was previously engaged to this woman name Georgina Afton. They were super in love, at least it seemed that way. Then Georgina caught the eye of a duke and she broke off the engagement. People say Roy was completely heartbroken."

"So...he's just scared of getting hurt?" you ask in clarification.

"Probably."

"Yeah, I suppose that makes sense," Jamie says, "Wow, love. You never seize to amaze me," he says looking at Keeley like she hung up all the stars in the sky.

"Aw, thanks, love!" she leans in and pecks his lips.

The sight makes you smile. You always hoped to find a love like theirs. It was rocky at first, but Keeley and Jamie...they just make sense to you. They fit each other well and you dream of finding someone who fits you.

Is that someone Roy Kent? You're still not sure.

He frustrates you and makes you doubt yourself sometimes, but he also challenges you. He's caring and adores his family. He's quick witted and snarky, but also funny.

Hmmm...you really had to think about this.

Besides, there were other men that could potentially catch your eye. Maybe...maybe you should start taking finding a suitor more seriously...

[babytarttdoodoo]

Omg I’m obsessed with your fics! Your writing is so good! Can I request some hurt\comfort Roy / Jamie where Jamie just needs some cuddles?

And now for something completely different! Back to the regularly scheduled short and sweet prompts, I jumped at the chance to do some fluff after my brief descent into madness.

(It wasn’t that brief and I doubt that it’s over.)

Roy/Jamie, set maybe two years after canon.

Song rec: Better Together

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

Giving Jamie a key to his house had been an easy decision for Roy, regardless of how short the length of their ‘official’ relationship had technically been. Despite working together on a daily basis, their schedules could be vastly different and demanding.

Jamie had professional commitments outside of Richmond, split between brand partnerships and public appearances, on top of the time he religiously kept aside to spend with the team or on trips to Manchester. Roy was increasingly (frustratingly) involved in the day-to-day running of the club and spent at least two of the nights in a week that he wasn’t trapped in his office with Phoebe running circles around him after school.

Basically, dedicated ‘alone time’ was hard to come by and it was actually really fucking nice to come home some nights and find Jamie already sorting dinner in the kitchen, or to be surprised by an unplanned visit whenever he found himself at a loose end.

It was nice that Jamie clearly felt at home enough in his space to use it.

That said, this evening he was confronted with a lot more slamming of doors and aggressive muttering than he had typically come to expect when Jamie let himself in.

“In here.” Roy answered from his space on the couch when Jamie did eventually call out and confirm he wasn’t a bad-tempered burglar. He paused the film he’d been half-watching and scowled at his boyfriend when he poked his head into the living room. “What the fuck did my front door do to you?”

Jamie winced slightly and shrugged before all but collapsing over the back of the settee, 170 pounds of muscle immediately reduced to a floppy ragdoll. Roy made appropriately irritated sounds at being jostled, while simultaneously holding his arms agreeably up out of the way so Jamie could squirm around into a comfortable position. His head found its way to Roy’s lap and he tucked his legs up to avoid dangling off the arm.

“Sorry.” he said, smiling sheepishly once he was settled. “Long fucking day.”

“Yeah?” Roy’s hands automatically sought out more contact, one resting on Jamie’s chest, the other beginning to card through his hair.

He had let his natural colour grow back in this season. At this length, it had started forming a mop of soft curls on top of his head that Roy found unbearably attractive. Even with whatever overpriced products it had been saturated in for the day, it only took a few runs through of Roy’s fingers to set the strands loose again.

He suppressed a laugh at the way Jamie pressed into the touch with a contented sound, acting for all the world like an affection-starved cat.

“Yeah,” he sighed, eyes drifting shut. “The bloke running the shoot was a right dickhead. Whole thing dragged on way longer than it had to.”

Roy frowned. Jamie had been looking forward to working with this company - some fashion line Keeley had secured a contract for. It would be a fucking shame if the whole thing was a miserable cock up.

“Need me to knock some skulls together?”

Jamie huffed a laugh, lips twitching up, but the pinch in his brow didn’t smooth over like Roy had hoped it would. He was clearly upset by whatever happened.

“Nah. Not sure they’ll invite me back, to be honest. Keeley’s gonna go through me tomorrow.”

That was a straight up alarming concept. The list of things that would push Keeley to be genuinely angry at Jamie was incredibly short. “What happened?”

“Told him where to stick it, didn’t I?” Jamie groused, turning his face to nuzzle into Roy’s stomach. “Got sick of him yelling at me for just doing what he said. Prick.”

“Hey.” Roy waited until he saw Jamie’s eyes open and peer up at him. “He shouted at you?”

“A bit.”

“Where does he live?”

Jamie snorted and lightly smacked Roy’s arm. “Shut up.”

“No, seriously, Jamie.” The hand that had been petting his hair moved to cup his cheek instead. “Keeley is not going to be mad at you for telling off some idiot giving you a hard time. You don’t need to put up with that shit.”

Jamie hummed, not looking entirely convinced, but the tightness in his shoulders did ease up a little.

“It were a big deal, this shoot.” he said quietly. “Supposed to do a couple more with ‘em next month. They won’t if they decide I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’ve done more modelling in the last two years than I did in my entire fucking playing career.” Roy pointed out. “If it went wrong, I doubt it was because of something you did.”

A thoughtful look overtook Jamie’s expression and, with a small grunt of effort as the only warning, he surged up to capture Roy’s lips in a sweet, warm kiss. He used the hand not propping himself up to grasp the back of Roy’s neck, pulling him in as close as he could at the awkward angle.

Roy was definitely not complaining but couldn’t help his surprise, blinking in confusion when they broke apart. “What was that for?”

“It’s sexy when you make sense.” Jamie told him, a welcome flicker of amusement in his expression. “And when you try to get me out me head. Sorry I’m being a grumpy bastard.”

“Oh, yeah, you’ve never had to put up with that from me.” Roy deadpanned, eyebrows raised. Jamie rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the grin taking over his face. Fair play. “Tell me why you’re so upset over this. You know Keeley won’t give two shits about one bad day.”

Jamie’s face screwed up for a moment then he huffed and shifted around to sit properly beside Roy, still pressed up to his side but occupying his hands with spinning one of the few rings he had on that day.

Roy didn’t rush him, knowing he'd find the words in his own time.

“I don’t like being called ‘stupid’.” Jamie finally admitted, like letting that bother him was something to be fucking ashamed of.

The hot spike of anger that shot through Roy’s gut seized up his joints in a vice of coiled tension. Ten years ago, he’d let loose that energy by charging at the source and whoever else happened to be in his path. Now, with only Jamie there to take it out on, he forced himself to relax at least a fraction before trusting his voice wouldn’t come out sharply.

“What the fuck did he say to you?”

Jamie nudged him gently, no doubt reading the protective fury in every line of his body and appreciating the effort to rein it in.

“Dunno, exactly. I’m hardly fluent in Spanish but I’ve seen enough of Dani’s Twitter replies to know when I’m being insulted.” He shrugged. “After the third or fourth ‘móngolo’ and ‘apestar’ I told him to go fuck himself and stormed off.”

Jamie groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face, ears going pink like they did when he was embarrassed or stressed.

“In my defence, he were pissing off everyone on the shoot. The photographer found me later to say he were five minutes away from doing the same. And he kept getting on at the makeup girl ‘cause me abs weren’t ‘defined enough’.” He put air quotes around the words and Roy gritted his teeth so hard he thought he heard one of the back ones crack.

“Right.” he ground out and took another deep breath when even he could hear the homicidal rage in his tone. “First off, that’s the most moronic fucking thing I’ve ever heard. You’re in the best shape of your bloody life and your torso looks like you’ve airbrushed it on every morning.”

Jamie snorted, clearly appreciating the compliment, despite everything else. 

“He’s just a prick they paid way too much money to fly in from Barcelona.” he said, leaning his head on Roy’s shoulder and sounding like he was trying to convince himself as much as anything. “Keeley already told them that if they were gonna insist on doing the shoot during the season, there’s no way I would be getting dehydrated before it.”

Roy sharing his opinions on that fun part of modelling, whether on season or off, was not going to help matters. He made the magnanimous decision to let it go and was very proud of himself.

“Second.” He continued instead, putting an arm around Jamie to tug him in and press a kiss to his temple. “You are not fucking stupid. Or whatever else he said. Like to see that bastard fend for himself in the kind of tactical nightmares you find a way around.”

“Footie genius.” Jamie agreed lightly, nodding like he was humouring Roy.

“Fucking brilliant, on or off the pitch.” Roy corrected and squeezed Jamie to emphasise the point. “I’ve never seen anyone read people the way you do. Or remember so much shit. You knew what that fucker was saying about you because you pay attention to everything. I don’t know how you do it.”

Jamie buried his face into Roy’s shoulder, ears definitely pink now.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Freaky when you give me this many compliments, you old weirdo.”

Roy chuckled and kissed Jamie’s hair again. “You know I mean it?”

“Yeah.” Jamie sniffed and Roy couldn’t tell if he was just clearing the air or something else. “You’re a shit liar.”

“Glad to hear it. Did you eat yet?”

“Meant to order in on the way back. Forgot.”

“Fuck that. I’ve got a pot of spag bol that Phoebe and me barely made a dent in. Let’s get you fed.”

Jamie propped his chin up on Roy’s shoulder, eyes big and soft with a smile playing around his mouth. He leaned in again and kissed Roy some more, unbearably gentle and intense about it all at the same time.

“Alright. Let’s see what damage I can do to these abs, then.”

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Roy/Jamie prompt: After a terrific win the team parties hard. When morning arrives Roy and Jamie wake up together, wearing nothing but matching silver bands on their left ring fingers. They somehow ended up fully married without having set foot in Vegas. Craziest thing is, they decide to stay married because they both want each other bad.

AHHHHHHH YEAAAAAHH—

Jamie wakes up slow in a hotel in a different city then the night before, not shocking considering it’s after a match. But the concerning part is there’s someone in bed with him.

He can feel their breath going across his back and more importantly he can feel where they fucked last night.

Not to assume genders but he’s assuming he’s in bed with a guy. Because one he’s pretty sure that’s beard burn and two he clearly bottomed.

Shit.

He slowly rolls over.

S h i t.

That’s Roy. Roy Kent. Roy Kent as in his fucking coach Roy Kent.

Fuck.

Shit he slept with Roy.

Oh my god he slept with Roy!

No not the time to have a party for all of young Jamie’s fantasies, this is fucking serious. Christ is Roy even into men?? What the hell happened last night??

Roy shuffles forward in his sleep, he tosses an arm across Jamie’s waist. Jamie could get used to this if it wasn’t so fucking insane.

He glances around for a phone to check and see if he missed anything. He catches his phone on the nightstand. He snags it and opens his texts with Colin. Safe choice.

MATEE WIALD THAT YOU N COACH DIDMARRUD LASYSNIFJT LUVE UUU SO PRUD

Well that’s a concerning text to have gotten at 2am.

He scrolls on to Sam.

V hapby 4u rem take slow in morn no need to go anyware fsst comgrats 🎉😭🎉

Jamie is officially freaking out what the fuck did they do last night. Clearly something big because of all the congratulations.

He glances over at Roy, he looks so peaceful. He hates to have to wake him but he knows it has to happen. He taps Roy’s shoulder. Nothing. He shakes Roy’s shoulder, he gets a grunt.

“Roy, mate wake up.”

Roy shakes his head shoving it into Jamie’s chest. Okay Jamie don’t freak. This is fine. It’s fine. It’s just because he’s hungover. “Roy wake up!”

He shoves Roy, “Christ what the fuck Jamie.”

Roy blinks at him, “Jamie?” “Yeah.” “Fuuuck.”

“So we uh clearly uhm-” “don’t say it.”

Oh so that’s how Roy feels about this. He doesn’t like Jamie. Last night was a fuck up of unimaginable quantities. God how is he going to look at Roy. Oh God he promised Phoebe he’d be at her game on Friday.

“Jamie stop fucking freaking out. You’re fucking hyperventilating”

Jamie inhales hard, he gasps in air he didn’t realize he was missing. At some point during his panic Roy had sat up against the head board with him, shoulder to shoulder knees touching. “You good now?”

God Jamie is never going to forget Roy’s morning voice. That’s going to be something he thinks about at night now. “Can I say something or are you going to freak more.”

Jamie nods, he darts his eyes to Roy’s face. Huh he doesn’t look angry. “Go ahead.”

“I think we got married.”

Okay well maybe Jamie got a concussion at the match last night, yeah definitely, he must be in a hospital and is having severe hallucinations. Great, his brain decided to really crush him with his most private fantasies. Maybe if he just rolls over and dies it’ll all be fine.

“Jamie.” Aw cute fake Roy has fluffy hair in the mornings. “Jamie?” Roy has some freckles how has he never noticed that before? “Jamie, breath please you’re scaring me.”

Fuck. “Married? Why the fuck do you think married fake Roy.”

Roy stares at him for a second, he reaches up and brushes the hair away from Jamie’s forehead. “Fake Roy?”

Jamie nods. “Only reasonable explanation. I have a concussion, my brain felt bad. Poof you are here and married to me.”

“That’s your brain wanted to make you feel better fantasy?”

“Mate I really don’t know but yeah it makes sense.”

Roy nods, he then proceeds to reach his left hand over and pick up Jamie’s left hand. “Matching rings Jamie, pretty sure those aren’t fake. And anyways you didn’t get a concussion last night.”

“CHRIST SO I FORCED YOU TO MARRY ME??”

Roy laughs, at least that’s a good sign, he’s also still holding Jamie’s hand, that’s an confusing sign.

“Jamie when have you ever been able to force me to do anything?”

“Bikes. Meetings with Phoebe. Dinners out. Casual drinking at your house. I make you cook for me and-”

Roy cuts him off. “You’ve never forced me to anything in your life Jamie, I’ve never done anything with you I never wanted to do.” Jamie starts to speak but Roy squeezes his hand, “yes last night included.”

Jamie feels himself go a nice pink. “What about the marriage thing.”

“I mean we could just leave it and actually fucking date. If you are comfortable uh with um that.”

Jamie blinks, he’s never seen Roy look that unsure.

Roy Kent wants to be married to him. Jamie Kent.

Woah, getting a bit ahead of himself there.

Fuck it here goes nothing.

He shoves the sheet off, throws a leg over Roy’s waist and grabs his, holy shit, husbands face.

“You want me, you want this with me? I’ve liked you forever Roy I’m not letting you go.”

Roy smiles up at Jamie, he puts hands on Jamie’s hips rubbing his thumbs in the dips he finds there.

“Well I guess we’ve got forever to like each other then.”

Jamie let’s out a whoop, causing Roy to laugh again. He leans down and kisses his husband. Because hey like Sam said, they don’t have anywhere they need to be.

[jamiesfootball]

Curious what you’d do with ”Did it ever occur to you that maybe we don’t want to see you get hurt?”

”Did it ever occur to you that maybe we don’t want to see you get hurt?”

If it's not the first thing he hears coming off anesthesia, it's the first thing that cuts through the fog, though Roy has a sneaking suspicion his sister's been at it for a while.

Roy wakes to lingering nausea, clammy shivers that prick against his skin, and his sister glaring at him from the foot of his bed.

It's weird, seeing Sarah out of scrubs; it's even weirder seeing her with a child held up against her hip. He's still not used to it.

From her perch, his niece watches him intently. Only age two and she's fucking huge, all her soft baby features spilling out into a toddler mould. The bigger she gets, the easier it gets to be to tell what she's thinking. Right now, she may as well be hiding her distress behind a pane of glass.

She waves at him. He waves back. Her arms tighten around her mum as she buries her face in her neck.

Roy's heart thump thump thumps on the monitor.

His hand falls back to the bed. Squinting against the light, he fights against the hot dampness building behind his eyes.

His throat croaks, "Is it bad?"

Sarah sighs. "As bad as the last one? No. But you can't keep tearing your knee up, or pretty soon you won't have a knee!"

She punctuates her statement with a thunderous frown; her eyebrows, similar to his own but just a tad neater, cut across her forehead like bushy lightning bolts.

Still under some sort of drugs, he shrugs off her concern and says, "Eh. I'll buy a new one."

Sarah's eyes narrow dangerously, but Phoebe giggles into her hiding spot. It's almost cheating, that - Phoebe's at the age where she thinks everything Roy says deserves a hearty round of laughter. Already she's wriggling and giggling, simply delighted that Roy's there to string together words, even if they aren't for her.

Can't understand him; thinks he hung the moon.

It tugs at his chest, threatening to unstuck the zipper and unravel him at the seams.

He stretches his arms out. "Can I hold her?"

Sarah thaws. In record time, and in spite of his callousness, he's being gifted a bundle of Phoebe. Curling up against his side, she flings her chubby little arm across his chest and digs her baby fingers into his shirt with an impressively strong grip. She's so big. She weighs nothing. She's so little. She fills up his entire world. Just having her near soothes the thing that lives agitated inside his chest.

She is no danger of accidently knocking his leg about, tiny as she is. As far as he's concerned, she can stay where she is for as long as she likes.

Sarah slides a chair closer to his bed. Sitting down on Phoebe's other side, she strokes her daughter's hair back. Roy gets the impression that she's doing it for herself too. Showing affection doesn't come naturally to either of them. Best to start as small as they come.

They're not that close, him and Sarah, but sometimes it feels like they might be one day.

After a while, Sarah breaks the silence.

"You can't scare her like that," Sarah says, in a tone more serious than he's ever heard from his baby sister -- she doesn't even need to curse to get her point across. Oh, she can swear like the worst of them, but she's better than that. She better than the brother who only knows football and fame and broken teeth. Better than someone who only knows the best ways to break themselves down and still be useful.

She's better than Roy and she's right.

The problem is Roy.

"I'll try," he says, as close to a promise as he can make. His card's already punched; all that's left is to stave off the inevitable for as long as he can until his debt finally gets called up. Until then-

"I'll try."

[lunar-years]

Oh man oh man oh man if Phoebe, who is basically co-parented by Uncle Roy, gets a sibling who comes with her own dad? I feel like that’s SO crunchy, because if Roy is there as the *third* adult instead of the second he’s not going to be as involved as he was with Phoebe and I feel like there’s going to be so many complicated feelings about that for Phoebe. (Including probably some “good, I don’t have to share” feelings lol.)

YEAH. Listen I love the headcanon because it's SO crunchy along the way but then it ends really happily because their little family expands and more love is never a bad thing <3 also ROY & Co. WITH A LITTLE BABY!!! <3<3 let's appreciate the vision!!

but yeah I think like, if Roy's sister (who i'm going to call Ruth for the sake of the rest of my response because it's too difficult to not use a name and keep everyone straight lmao) was seriously dating someone and then was like hey we're getting married and then shortly thereafter was like oh yeah by the way I'm pregnant:

Roy would definitely go through it a bit because in my head, he didn't realize what was happening/how it really was between Ruth and Phoebe's Dad until Ruth was already like, REALLY in it. Maybe he even liked the guy. I sort of think he did, just because it's extra prickly and it adds to the intense anger over the situation we see him express in canon. Like, not only is he mad at himself for not realizing how Ruth was being treated, he's also mad that he didn't see the signs and wasn't around when he needed to be, and he's furthermore mad that he was friendly with this guy the times he'd met him when he of course should have known to slug him in the face in advance from the first time he met him, etc. Irrational thought patterns, you know how it is.

So. His panicky brain realistically knows this ISN'T the same. But he's also extra vigilant, especially now that he not only has Ruth to worry about but also Phoebe. So he really has to talk things through with his therapist and Ruth and express his fears to Jamie and Keeley before he really can start to feel okay about the whole thing.

Then once he's accepted Ruth's new boo and is excited for all of them, he gets hit with the "you're getting a new niece or nephew!" news, which sets off the panic alarms AGAIN. because what if he's used up all his good uncle juices on Phoebes and there's not enough left over for the new kid? (i just think Roy tragically overthinks everything lmao)

Also, and the Bigger Thing, is how does he navigate just having to be an uncle to this child without the extra responsibility of having to be a co-parent to them like he's been for Phoebe? What's the balance there? And can he step back to let this new person into Phoebe's life, and what if he fills up the role Roy has in her life and pushes Roy out completely? He wants to give as much of himself to this new child as he'd given to Phoebe but he doesn't quite know what new role to play.

Meanwhile Phoebe is having a similar crisis about accepting this new person and then a new sibling into her home. As you say, she doesn't want Roy to not be there in the same way he's always been there, and she also has all the typical pre-teen angst and this is just one more thing. She doesn't want anything to change. She'd very skeptical of this new guy who is suddenly always around. Why does her mum even like him? etc. etc.

This is a great opportunity for Phoebe and Jamie bonding and an Uncle Jamie teaching moment, because Jamie of course also has a stepparent, and one I personally believe he was VERY skeptical of when Simon first came into his life. So he can share with Phoebe the role Simon's played in his own life and in doing so, gently encourage her to give Ruth's partner a chance. ❤️

everything ends up all right of course. Ruth's partner is a wonderful person who slides right into the family and is very patient with Phoebe and Roy both. And they all instantly fall in love with new baby. Phoebe would be the best big sister. I think it would just be really exciting for everyone involved!!

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

Drabble prompt-

“You dumbass. Don’t do that. Ever again.”

I think I did it! I think I actually wrote a drabble. And crossed off another @badthingshappenbingo square!

UPDATE: I did not do it lmao

UPDATE2: Now on ao3 so I can have everything together.

Jamie Tartt was going to be the death of him.

“You dumbass. Don’t do that. Ever again.”

Roy pressed his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

“What was I supposed to do?” Jamie scoffed.

“Not that!” Roy said, trying to keep his voice down but failing.

“You were going to fucking fall!”

“Your fucking point?” Roy asked, psychotic eyebrows shooting nearly to his hairline.

“Didn’t want you to get hurt,” Jamie pouted.

“So you got hurt instead?”

“Didn’t think that part through, did I?”

“No fucking shit.”

“Well, innit better me than you and your old man bones? They’re probably just dust in there held together by anger and stubbornness. My bones are young and strong.”

“Jamie your wrist is broken.”

“I told you I didn’t think it through, alright?”

Jamie adjusted the ice pack on his wrist. The pair had been having a similar conversation on and off since they arrived at A&E. All the trouble started on a bike ride. They were nearing the coffee shop by Keeley’s office, intent on bringing her and Barbara coffee and pastries while they worked on their latest campaign.

They were bike riding when Roy’s tire caught a divot. He started to tip and Jamie lept off his bike to try to catch Roy before he landed on his bad knee. And it worked. Roy didn’t land on his bad knee, unfortunately, all Roy’s weight landed on Jamie’s outstretched wrist instead. Ice packs and x-rays replaced coffees and scones.

So much for an uneventful off-season.

“Next time, maybe wrist guards, knee and elbow pads for everyone. And helmets. Definitely helmets,” Ruth said, pulling back the curtain where the pair sat waiting. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“Fuck.”

“That is my diagnosis. Yes.”

“Fucking professional. Is it really broken?”

Ruth turned her ipad to show the pair the x-ray and pointed. “Unfortunately, yes. You can see the break right there.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuck,” Roy and Jamie said simultaneously.

“Told you.”

“Fuck off.”

Ruth rolled her eyes. “There’s minor displacement, so I can reduce it and then we’ll get you in a cast and get you out of here a soon as we can.”

True to her word, Jamie and Roy are waiting for Ruth an hour later, Jamie’s broken wrist secured in a cast and sling.

“You’re such a dumbass,” Roy said again.

“Stop calling me that,” Jamie said and Roy began to feel badly.

The situation seemed to sink in for Jamie once the cast was applied. The nerve block meant he wasn’t in too much pain but that wouldn’t last and right now the lad just looked uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry. I just, I hate seeing you hurt and especially when it was my fault.”

“How was it your fault?” Jamie asked skeptically.

“You were trying to catch me. Did you hit your fucking head too?”

“It were an accident, Roy. If anyone’s to blame it’s the fucking pot hole you drove through. Thinking of writing a strongly worded letter to our boy Sadiq Khan about the maintenance of London’s roads.”

“I’m impressed you know who the Mayor is.”

“Fuck off. Met him at one of the England matches couple of weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Roy said again then motioned vaguely at Jamie. ”About all this.”

“I told. you, it were an accident,” Jamie shrugged then winced as it jostled his injured wrist.

“Ready lads?” Ruth appeared holding a bag with pain medication she handed to Roy.

“We picking Phoebe up?” Jamie asked.

“I can drive you home first if you want?”

The bikes were abandoned after the incident and they’d taken a taxi to the hospital, thankful Ruth’s shift ended as they were ready to leave.

“Let’s get Phoebe and then Roy said he’d buy us all kebabs, didn’t you, Royo?”

“When the fuck did I say that?”

“You did. Felt bad on account of landing on me and all.”

“Right, yeah,” Roy said as he helped Jamie into Ruth’s Range Rover and buckled him in, careful of his sling. “But seriously, don’t do that again, yeah?”

“No promises, mate.”

One way or another, Jamie Tartt was going to be the death of him.

[saywhatjessie]

Pre-Madonna

Day sixteen of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 16: Road Trip Fandom: Ted Lasso - Pairing: RoyJamie 1.9k[Ao3]

Roy would never do something as undignified as engage in a slap fight over who can control the aux cord on a road trip. Which is why he declared in no uncertain terms that Jamie was not to touch the music when they drive up to Manchester.

Jamie snorted. “I don’t think you want to play this game with me, grandad.”

“It’s not a game – it’s an executive order. I’m not listening to whatever club beat garbage you listen to for four fucking hours.”

Jamie looked back at him, offended. “‘club beat garbage’? Do you not know what I listen to?”

“Sure I do! You put it on in the kitchen when I’m making breakfast.”

“That’s not my music! That’s your ancient radio! There’s not even an aux port on that thing. That’s just BBC1!”

Roy turned to look at him incredulously. “But you always know all the words!”

“Yeah, because I’m a hip young lad who has a general lust for life!” Jamie complained. “I know a lot of songs! That doesn’t mean that’s what I normally listen to.”

Roy frowned. “So what do you normally listen to?”

Jamie looked genuinely aggrieved at his revelation. Like it was Roy’s fault Jamie just knew pop music. If it weren’t for Phoebe, Roy wouldn’t know any music after 2010. Why would Roy think Jamie would know it if he didn’t like it?

He made a displeased sound in his throat and grabbed for Roy’s phone.

“No!” Roy growled, swiping with one hand to grab the phone back. Jamie yanked it out of his reach. “This is literally the opposite of what I said, Tartt!”

“Well apparently you don’t know what I listen to which means either I don’t share enough or you don’t pay attention to me.” Jamie huffed. “One of us is a shitty boyfriend so we’re fixing this now.”

Roy growled again but, seeing as he refused to get in a slap fight, pulled his hand back.

“We’re not bad boyfriends,” Roy grumbled. “You share with me plenty. And I pay attention.”

Roy could see Jamie lift an eyebrow in his peripheral vision.

“What’s my coffee order?” Jamie quizzed.

“You’re not allowed coffee with your training. Caffeine’s too harsh on your system”

“Obviously,” Jamie rolled his eyes. “I mean when I have the option like during the off season or on holiday.”

Roy hummed. “Iced ristretto macchiato with oat milk. And whatever stupid fucking seasonal flavoring they have.”

Jamie hummed happily, in confirmation and praise. Roy smirked.

“Favorite ice cream?”

“Salted caramel.”

“Soup?”

“Split pea because you’re a fucking weirdo.”

“Nandos order?”

“Why are all of these about food?”

“Cuz I’m off training for a few days and I’m excited to feel joy when I eat again.”

“Fine. Fuck. Grilled chicken wrap with paella and a ceasar salad.”

Jamie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “God, babe, you’re obsessed with me. Such a turn on.”

“Fuck you.”

“Okay pull over.”

Roy snorted, rolling his eyes, but he put his hand on the center console for Jamie to take. Jamie did so without hesitation.

“Flat white, by the way,” Jamie said and at Roy’s inquisitive grunt followed up with “Your coffee order. Ice cream is coffee and butter pecan. Soup is matzah ball, obviously. And you’re banned from Nandos.”

“I’m not banned,” Roy grumbled. “I’ve just been advised to not return.”

Jamie laughed, lifting Roy’s hand to kiss his knuckles.

“I know, grandad,” he stared at him sappily for another moment before turning his attention back to Roy’s phone. “We’re still listening to my music, though.”

Roy growled and Jamie dug his fingernail into Roy’s finger.

“Shut up,” Jamie said, idly. “I’m also favoriting my playlist on your Spotify account so you can listen to it when you’re not with me. Study my tastes, like.”

“You can’t give me fucking boyfriend homework.”

“Just did, bitch!” Jamie grinned. “You’ll like it, trust me.”

Roy growled again but squeezed Jamie’s hand, letting it happen.

It’s not that he was against learning things about Jamie – and maybe he felt a little guilty assuming things about him — but Roy, as stoic as he was to most people, was shit at hiding his emotions from the people who knew him. If he didn’t like Jamie’s music, it would show on his face, and he didn’t want to hurt Jamie’s feelings when he was sharing with him.

Which meant the surprise he felt when Jamie’s head started bopping to the opening chords of Billy Joel’s “It’s Still Rock and Roll To Me” was loud and clear across his face.

“Are you fucking with me?” Roy asked.

Jamie rolled his eyes before he started singing along. He knew all the words.

Jamie frowned but his head also bopped along. Billy Joel wasn’t that surprising. Pretty standardly popular.

As was the Queen song that came on after. Being a Queen fan just meant being a human.

But then there was the Kinks and The Who and Blue Oyster Cult. A bunch of American hair bands that were past their prime before Roy had been born.

At the third Fleetwood Mac song, Roy couldn’t take it anymore.

“There’s no way this is your go-to playlist. Are you trying to impress me?”

“I can show you my Spotify Wrapped, old man: Fleetwood Mac’s my top artist this year.” He air drummed on the dashboard with his one hand that wasn’t holding Roy’s. “Stevie Nicks was the first woman to be entered into the Rock and Roll hall of fame twice. And you say female artists before Madonna didn’t have to work hard.”

Roy grunted again, introspective.

“I guess I should have known,” Roy said after a while, over Bowie singing “Suffragette City.” “After the Rolling Stones comment when you called me Keith Richards.”

“Okay, so you do pay attention,” Jamie grinned. “You’re just too thick to make connections.”

“Fuck off,” Roy said. “You sing along to Taylor Swift on the radio, that’s not exactly The Ramones.”

“Listen, it ain’t my fault I know ‘Shake it Off’: it’s been playing in stadiums for as long as I’ve been in the premier league.”

Roy hummed in allowance. “Yeah, that song has been fucking everywhere,” he said. “I know it because of Phoebe.”

“Young impressionable child, I get it,” Jamie agreed. “I heard Keeley’s been setting her straight, though.”

Roy made a noise in his throat. “She has been listening to more Led Zeppelin.”

“That’s my girl.” Jamie grinned

Roy smiled back.

Jamie let his playlist run for the first two hours of the drive, letting go of Roy’s hand so he could rock out properly.. All of it was music Roy was vaguely familiar with but not something Roy would seek out to listen to himself.

He really should have guessed at Jamie’s taste considering his style. His stupid hair and his denim rhinestones and his dangly earring is all very glam rock. 

“Was it Georgie? Was she a classic rock fan?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jamie grinned, wiggling a bit as he played air guitar. “Mum was a groupie in her day. All she wanted to do was fuck Thom Yorke.”

“Ah, so at least you come by your groupie status honestly.”

“Fuck off, old man, I don’t even like you,” Jamie grinned. “But it is your turn for music.”

“Hm?”

“Yeah, mate, I shared my music with you so now you have to share with me.”

“I was gonna play my music first!”

“Were you?” Jamie asked. “Or were you gonna put on a random radio station that you didn’t mind us talking over?”

Roy grunted. That had been what he’d been planning on doing. Because he would have been irritated if Jamie talked over music he liked and also he can’t listen to the music he liked without singing along. And he didn’t want Jamie to make fun of him for that.

But Jamie had shared so, yeah, it was fucking Roy’s turn.

He held out his hand for his phone and Jamie placed it in his palm, his face smug.

Roy rolled his eyes and navigated to his music library, picking his favorite saved playlist.

Immediately, the strings that open up “One Day More” from Les Miserables filled the car.

Jamie started before grinning, sitting up further in his seat.

“Royo, is this–”

“Shh,” Roy warned. “You’re not talking over my cue.”

“What–”

“One day more,” Roy sang. “Another day another destiny. This never ending road to calvary. These men who seem to know my crimes will surely come a second time. One day more

“I did not live until today”

Jamie cackled as Roy seamlessly switched to the next part. Even more so when he began straining his already pathetic upper register to sing the women’s parts.

But he didn’t interrupt. And he didn’t try to talk to Roy over the music.

When the song ended, he paused the playlist to clap. Roy smiled, a little pleased, even while his ears turned red in a blush.

“So this is big man Roy Kent?” Jamie asked, grinning. “Secret West End aficionado?”

“Fuck off,” Roy scowled. “I thought we were sharing.”

“We are! And I love this about you!” Jamie said, reaching over to rub a comforting hand over Roy’s thigh. “Was your mum into showtunes.””

Roy huffed, covering Jamie’s hand with his own. “Grandad. He showed me Fiddler when I first started learning what it was like to be Jewish. Always told me that Jewish people invented musical theater and it doesn’t matter how big of an athlete I ever got, I was never to be ashamed of that.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, mate.” He flipped his hand over to lace his fingers with Roy’s again. “Press play. And when we get to mummy’s we can watch your favorite.”

Fuck, Roy loved him.

They cycled through some Broadway classics, Jamie pausing the music after the song was over to ask about the show. He was interested in Sweeney Todd: thought the eating people bit was mad. He really liked the music from Rent (no surprise there) and he was blown away by Six.

“This sounds new!” Jamie said. “This is like poppy and shit!”

“It’s a feminine centric re-telling of the history of Henry VIII’s wives.”

“And it fucks!” Jamie said. He shimmied his shoulders. “Get it, Anne Boleyn!”

Roy laughed, not binding Jamie attempting to sing along to this one. He’d never learned all the words, but it was fun to see Jamie have fun.

By the time they pulled up to Georgie’s, the Christmas lights in City sky blue, Jamie had convinced himself they absolutely had to watch Singing in the Rain. 

“Roy, you get the dopiest smile on your face when one of those songs come on,” he told him. “We’re watching it.”

Jamie moved to get out of the passenger seat but Roy pulled him back,

Jamie tilted his head at him and Roy pulled him into a kiss. Jamie hummed into the kiss, reaching up to cup Roy’s face and kiss him back.

He pulled back with a final peck. “What was that for?”

“For sharing with me.” Roy shrugged. “Made the drive go by quick.”

“Mmm,” Jamie agreed. “Softy.”

Roy snorted, pulling away and opening the door. “And now I’m not kissing you for the entire time we’re in Manchester.”

“No, wait, Roy!” Jamie whined, scrambling out of his own door. “That’s not fair!”

Roy laughed, going around to the boot to grab his luggage while Jamie whined. He’d definitely kiss him goodnight and they both knew it.

But Jamie could beg if he wanted.

[sortofanobsession]

omg I’m so glad you’re alive and I hope you’re feeling better. Can’t wait to read your Ted lasso writing again<3

Author's Note: ask and you shall receive...

Content warning: injury, hospital, surgery, anxiety, fear, cussing (it's Roy so duh) Crying.

Paring: Roy/Jamie

No Show Roy-o

Jamie paced the locker room. The team just watching him. 

Everyone's eyes snap to the door when someone starts to open it but they are disappointed when Ted and Beard walk in. The two coaches look at each other and then the team before heading into the office. 

"Okay, something is wrong," Ted says as he sets his backpack down. 

"Clearly," Beard replies. 

Ted watches the team through the window and notices all the attention on Tartt. Well, then he knew where to start.

"What's wrong, Jamie?" Ted asks as he approaches the striker. 

"Roy didn't show for training this morning and he isn't here yet."

"Has he ever missed before?" 

"The man actually lives to wake me up at 4 am to order me around," Jamie states. "No, he never misses. Not without a text at least."

"Did you call him?"

"I'm not daft," Jamie huffs. "Several times. No answer. Now it goes to voicemail."

"Some of us tried too," Isaac says. "Nothing."

"Keeley hasn't been able to ring him either," Jamie says. "Should I call his sister?"

"You have his sister's number?"

"For emergencies, and Phoebe," Jamie admits. 

"Hold on, you have contact with Roy's niece?" Ted asks. "She's what? 8?"

"That's really the important part to you now?" Jamie asks.

"Kinda, odd friendship there," Ted admits. 

"She insists I'm Roy's best friend, and Roy says it's for emergencies. She has a very different definition of emergencies, like you said, she's 8."

"Okay, fine," Ted says. He could let that go for now.  

"Do you think this counts as an emergency?" Jamie asks. 

"Let's see if he is doesn’t show, not just later than normal," Ted says. 

But when time comes to head out to the pitch and Roy still isn't there Jamie cracks and texts Roy's sister. She texts him back that she'll check his place. And that gives Jamie some reassurance as he begins training. He gives Ted his phone in case she or Roy calls. Ted initially thought it was silly, but about an hour in she does call. She tells Ted that Roy wasn't there and the fact he isn't answering for her is unusual. Roy would never ignore a call from her or Phoebe. But she also insists that Roy can handle himself. And she'll let them know if she hears anything. And that makes Ted a bit nervous. They were just about to take a break when Phoebe called Jamie. She is crying and Ted actually does call Jamie over for this one. And Jamie, still in his kit, drags Ted inside. Changes only his boots while still on the phone and whispers to Ted to get what he needs. 

"Where are we going?" Ted asks but does as Jamie says because something feels very wrong here. 

"The fucking hospital," Jamie hisses, not to be mean but more so Phoebe doesn't hear. 

"Oh, that's bad, yeah, let's go." Ted nods and follows Jamie’s lead. 

"We're on the way Phoebe, just stay there." 

Phoebe runs over and hugs Jamie when she sees him.

"Hey, Phoe," Jamie says and despite the fact she is 8 years old, Jamie hauls her up into his arms for a hug. And Ted is almost envious of how easy that seemed for him. But Ted is still very confused. "You remember Coach Ted?" Jamie asks her. She nods as Jamie sets her down. 

"Hi Phoebe," Ted says. "Are you okay?" Ted asks. 

She shrugs and looks over. Ted sees a doctor he had met before, but she looked out of place in street clothes. 

"Hey, Doc." Jamie hugs her. "What happened?"

"Still trying to sort that out," she says.

"You're Roy's sister?" Ted finally asks. 

"Oh sorry, yeah, Coach Lasso, Doc. Doc, Coach Lasso."

"Thanks Jamie," Ted says at the less than helpful introduction but Jamie is already being pulled away to the waiting area by Phoebe. 

"How much did Jamie tell you?" 

"Absolutely nothing," Ted admits. 

She shakes her head. "Right, Roy was brought in about a half hour ago. A friend of mine on shift recognized him and called me. They think he was hit by a car but we have no idea."

"Oh wow, I am so sorry, that-" Ted starts to say but she stops him.

"Thank you, he's in surgery now, I assume you will want to let Ms. Welton know. He might be out for a while."

"Yeah, right, good calls must run in the family," he says. 

"Something like that," she says before going to check on Phoebe. 

She leans in and whispers to Jamie that Roy is in surgery and it's a waiting game now. 

Ted calls Rebecca and Beard, then Keeley. Keeley is there in less than twenty minutes.

"Keeley?" Jamie asks when he sees her. She hugs Phoebe and then him. 

"Ted called," she says and smacks his arm. 

"What was that for?"

"You didn't call me!"

"I was busy with her," Jamie says, gesturing to Phoebe. Thankfully she had her headphones on and was curled up in a chair. 

"Fine, that is an acceptable excuse. Here," she hands him a bag. "I ran by Nelson Road and got your stuff. Sam had made sure it was packed up. They're all pretty worried."

"They aren't the only ones," Jamie glances at Phoebe. 

"Does Ted know?" 

She glances out the window to where Ted was clearly on the phone with Rebecca or Higgins.

"Know what?"

"About you and Roy?" She says.

"Nah, didn't know if I should tell him. We haven't talked about it."

"Well, I think this might genuinely blow your cover."

"Hasn't yet," Jamie says.

"Jamie, I know you. You're managing right now because of Phoebe, but the minute you see him, you-"

"I know," Jamie seems to deflate. "I am trying so hard but-" 

"Oh babe," she hugs him and grimaces. "I love you, Jamie but do us all a favor and change. I'll stay with her."

"Yeah, right, okay," Jamie says as he heads to the toilets to change. 

"Where's Jamie?" Ted asks when he gets back.

"Changing out of his kit, Ted there is something I need to tell you, the boys might get mad, but Jamie is going to need someone and as much as he tries to hide it he is terrified."

"Okay, lay it on me," Ted says.

"Roy and Jamie have been secretly dating since just after international break."

"Wow," Ted says. "That's…new information." He admits. "Does explain why he has Roy's sister in his phone. And why he was so worried when Roy didn't show up for training." 

"They were keeping it a secret because well, for a lot of reasons, but I believe that ship might have sailed based on the fact Jamie didn't even change out of his kit."

"Did change his boots," Ted says.

"Probably not easy to drive in," she says.

"Probably," Ted agrees. 

"Please don't make a big deal out of it, Jamie wasn't going to say anything because he wasn't sure if Roy would want him to, but Jamie brought you for a reason. He brought you because he trusts you and Roy trusts you. And I know you won't hold this against them."

"Heck no, I'm glad they have each other, just surprised is all. You think Jamie is just a ticking time bomb in this one?"

"Definitely," Keeley nods. "And I'm not sure what will set him off."

"Thanks for the heads up, I'll keep this between us unless something happens."

"Thank you, Ted." 

Keeley heads back to work after they promise to keep her in the loop. Roy's sister comes back a bit later to tell them that Roy was out of surgery but it would be a bit before anyone could see him.

"You should be at training," is the first thing out of Roy Kent's mouth when they walk in. He glares at Jamie. 

"Uncle Roy!" Phoebe rushes over and hugs him as best as she can.

"Hi, Phoebe," he says before looking at Jamie. 

"You really think I would stay at training after they called me?" Jamie challenges.

"Yes, not much you can do here," Roy says.

"How hard did that car hit you?” Jamie narrows his gaze at him. “Because clearly your brain is rattled, old man." 

"How you feeling, Roy?" Ted asks to get the two to quit being so grumpy.

"Like I got hit by a car," Roy states.

"You did," Phoebe sniffles. 

"I'm okay, kid," he says. Earning a scoff from Jamie. Roy glares at him. "You should-"

"Oh, Jamie Tartt's not going anywhere," Ted assures him. "Rebecca already knows you'll be out for a while, and sorry boys, but the cats out of the bag on this one."

"You told him," Roy glares at Jamie again.

"I did not," Jamie looks just as shocked. 

"Keeley told me," Ted says. "Because she was worried Jamie was handling it too well."

"Of course she was," Jamie complains. 

"You did cry, like a lot earlier," Phoebe says. 

"Thanks for that, Phoe," Jamie says, his tone less than amused at being called out by a literal child.

"Phoebe, why don't you help me find your mom and call Keeley," Ted says. 

She seems to weigh her options.

"And stop by the vending machines," Ted adds.

"Okay," she hugs her uncle again before following Ted out. Roy looks over at Jamie and can tell he really is hanging in by a thread.

"I'm fine," Roy says. And Jamie doesn't even say anything, just crawls in the bed beside Roy. Roy grunts but manages to shift a bit to make them both fit. "Better?" Roy asks once Jamie is practically molded into his side. 

"Yes, much," Jamie says and he buried his face in Roy's shoulder. 

"Why am I not surprised?" Roy's sister says when she walks in. 

"Not my idea," Roy says.

"Not complainin' though, yeah?" Jamie counters.

"Tear his stitches and I'm banning you myself, Tartt," she says.

"Ouch, Doc," Jamie says. "But fair."

She hums as she sets to checking his vitals. 

“Pain?” She asks.

He grunts.

“Roy,” she starts but Jamie beats her to it. 

“It's either now or you have to admit it when Phoebe gets back,” Jamie says. And whether it is because he's right or that Jamie's so close to losing it Roy knows he needs to answer. 

“Fine, 6.”

“Right,” his sister says.

She makes a few notes.

It was quiet again when she left. 

“Are you mad?” Jamie asks.

“That I got hit by a fucking car?” Roy counters. That seemed like an obvious question. Of fucking course he was. He could have died. His mind circles back as Jamie shifts. 

“That people know,” Jamie corrects. “About us.”

Roy considers it as best he can with painkillers in his system. And he really doesn't fucking care because Jamie is there with him and despite how he was acting before he was glad he was there. It had been terrifying to think he might die when he has people that need him. 

“No,” Roy finally answered. “Needed you here, and if that's the fucking cost. Fine.”

“Good, because I think the team knew something was up, but that might have been because I couldn't sit still.”

“When have you ever fucking sat still?” Roy posits.

“This was worse,” Jamie tells him. “I'm sure Will is going to be pissed at the state of my boots. Pacing constantly on a hard surface.”

“Well get you new fucking boots,” Roy assures.

“Least of my worries, love,” Jamie admits, carefully shifting so he can see Roy's face. “Scared the shit out of me when I couldn't- you weren't answering. No one could find you. You never-”

“Fuck,” Roy says because Jamie has tears streaming down his face and he hates when that happens. He hates that it's because of him, even if he had no say in what happened to him. Despite the ache it causes Roy reaches up and brushes as many of those tears away as he can without risking his stitches. “I'm-”

“Don't!” Jamie starts to pull away. The striker knew what he was about to say. Jamie vehemently shakes his head, causing Roy's hand to have to fall back to the bed. “You are not fucking fine, Roy,” Jamie states, and it was clear what little hold Jamie had on his feelings was slipping. “Because I’m not! Phoebe isn’t either. You nearly died! I can't…do you think I want to do any of this shit without you? Because I fucking don't.”

“Not fucking asking you to,” Roy says, and it probably comes out more aggressive than he intended because Jamie was no longer tucked against his side. The footballer was on his feet, having wound himself up to pacing again. And Roy's chest always gets tight when Jamie does that shit. He needs Jamie to be okay. But he knows he probably said that wrong when Jamie glares at him. 

“You didn't fucking have to,” Jamie retorts. And that's fair. 

“Fucking hell,” Roy grumbles, attempting to sit up so he can better track Jamie's movement. 

“Don’t do that,” Jamie grumbles as he moves back to help him. “Hurt yourself and your sister will boot me.”

“Then quit fucking pacing,” Roy tugs at Jamie's arm until he sits on the edge of the bed. Roy sighs, ignoring the ache in his ribs as he does. 

“I'm not fucking dying, Tartt. Fucking doctors made sure of it.”

“Barely,” Jamie says.

“But they fucking did, and that's fucking that.”

Jamie scoffs but doesn't bother arguing. He was anxious and still thinking about how much worse things could have been, and how much could still go wrong.

“Look at me, Tartt,” Roy demands. Jamie does. “I know this is a fucking mess, but I will be fucking fine. You know why?” Jamie shrugs. “Because you lot won't stop until I am. You, my sister and Ted fucking Lasso, are all fucking determined. Throw in Keeley and that fucking team. I probably won't get a fucking quiet moment til I'm back at the dog track. So fucking do it.”

“Are you telling me to take care of you?” Jamie asks. 

“Going to fucking do it anyway, yeah?”

“Of course,” Jamie nods. “What do you need me to do?”

“You're here, so things are already fucking better,” Roy states. That has warmth spreading through Jamie's chest because Roy has less filter than most, but it would appear he has even less now. And it's oddly sweet.

“Yeah, I'm here,” Jamie says as he shifts to prop his knee up on the bed and takes Roy's hand in his. The fact Roy seems to relax even more has Jamie smiling for what feels like the first time all day. “And you heard the gaffer, I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me.”

“Good, going to need help with the kid,” Roy says. “She is going to be impossible to get rid of.”

“Don't lie Kent, you love every second of it. You love that kid.”

“Not the only fucking one,” Roy states. 

“That loves Phoebe? Of course not, she's adorable and-”

Roy squeezes his hand. 

“That I love, you fucking muppet. Sometimes I wonder why but fucking hell, Tartt. I fucking love you.”

Jamie grins. “Fucking love you too, you prick.”

Roy tugs him until Jamie lays back down beside him. There is a knock at the door. Jamie goes to get up but Roy doesn't let him. 

“Well aren't you two adorable,” Ted says as he and Phoebe come in. 

“Fuck off, Lasso,” Roy grunts.

“Uncle Roy,” Phoebe starts.

“I know, kid,” Roy says. 

“Your mum probably knows where his wallet is more than he does,” Jamie says.

“Could probably finally cash out that tab I've heard about,” Ted adds.

“Oi, don't give her fucking ideas.”

“That's two,” Ted states. 

“Fucking hell,” Roy mutters, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the pillows. 

“Three,” Phoebe giggles. 

“I got you,” Jamie quietly tells Roy. Jamie grabs his wallet from his locker and tosses it to Phoebe. Phoebe gives him a look. “He's been through it, so I'll take the hit for him.” Jamie grins. Phoebe just shrugs and takes three quid from him.

“Now he owes you,” Phoebe says, setting his wallet on the table by his phone, which he had set aside to focus on Roy when he initially crawled into the bed. 

Roy glares at him, but it doesn't bother the striker.