#Roy’s a fucking legend

[gulski2]

an edit a day:

[v0idwraith]

“i guess you can take the boy out of journalism but you can’t take the journalism out of the boy” um. hey writers. what’re you implying there huh?

[liorlenn]

just saw the new dove attia musical (moliere) and um.

[sylvies-chen]

ted lasso is actually a fucking fever dream of a show because like. ted mentions the legend of the red string of fate and soulmates. he uses this to get the team to tie their dicks together during a practice using red string. it goes horribly. nate asks a girl out and has a nice and normal time. keeley’s girlfriend is too nice to her and nobody knows what to make of it. trent came out of nowhere practically manic and foaming at the mouth with pro-richmond enthusiasm at the end of the episode for… reasons unknown??? sam’s restaurant gets trashed because he tweets at a white woman politician, which breaks his spirit temporarily and makes you want to cry uncontrollably. the gang comes to his side to help him and we learn bumbercatch is an neon sign afficionado. oh also will the kit man is cosplaying as coach beard and roy is allergic to metal whistles. this show just gives you fucking whiplash from the switches between serious and sweet and funny and it’s absolutely unhinged.

[strawberrysainz]

moon river. lando norris.

“ heatwaves, a call from lando. you’re desperately in love. ”

lando norris x fwb!reader

a warning — nsfw warnings under cut. minors dni. language. alcohol consumption.

18+: oral (f & m receiving), phone sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), overstimulation, filth but it’s cute lowkey x

The floor was hard and cool beneath your back as you lay on kitchen tiles in a bikini top and shorts, your kitten laying on your stomach, sleeping. England was suffering a terrible heatwave and the tiles were the only solution at the moment.

You were drinking a voddy coke in the late afternoon with your friend Charlie (also on the tiles) when your phone rang next to you, and you wiped the sweat off your forehead.

“It’s Lando,” you said with surprise, and Charlie reached across to hit your arm playfully. “What, boy wants to fuck in this weather?”

“I thought he was staying in Croatia with his mates for a bit longer now,” you frowned, but picked up nonetheless.

🍸💋🏹☀️

You’d ended up ‘friends with benefits’ a few months ago, after one night eating pizza and talking (originally platonic) had turned into sex on his sofa (not very platonic). You had been terribly stressed about your situation with him (he’d fucked off to his next race).

Then he’d called and you’d listened to him come over the phone as you two spoke lowly, words hot and heavy, gasps and grins accompanying it all.

When he came back he’d surprised you by turning up at yours, and you’d hugged him and you’d talked for a long time, very much just friends. You pretended to forget the last two times you two had spoken before having sex on your sofa this time. Then you couldn’t pretend.

He’d told you he wasn’t looking for a relationship but when he fucked you he’d never felt ‘so much’.

Then you’d laughed. And told him you didn’t mind being friends with benefits. But truth be told, you cared very much about him and were very much terrified about it all.

And he’d agreed, and you’d fucked again. You really couldn’t restrain yourself around him, a fact he found very funny.

🍸💋🏹☀️

“Hi, how’re you?” You say politely, and you hear him laugh.

“I’m great thanks. D’ya mind if I came over?” His voice is low and has a bit of a rasp, and you can tell he’s wanting you.

“I thought you were in Croatia. Also, Charlie’s here.” You say, buzzed on the vodka you’d downed a while back, sipping your drink.

Charlie shakes their head and sits up, mouthing ‘I’m leaving.’

Your giggle drowns out his first few words. “—sday. I can’t see you after today before I go to Italy to Dez’s wedding and y’know we haven’t seen each other for a few weeks. But it’s all good-“

“No, no, no, no. Charlie has a… beautician appointment, they’re going like right now,” you say hurriedly, and he laughs knowingly. “Plus you haven’t met the kitten,” you ruffle his fur, him fast asleep.

“I’ve just got to see the kitten,” he says, teasing, and you laugh loudly down the phone. “Get your arse over here.” You end the call.

“You legend,” you get up and hug Charlie, and they wink. “Not going to prevent my friend from getting laid!” Charlie sings, and you laugh, tidying up as you move to the front door.

Twenty minutes later you’ve made the flat look a bit decent, as much as you can being a bit drunk, and you pick up the kitten when there’s a knock on your door.

You’re a bit on edge from not seeing him for nearly a month, and you’ve forgotten to change into a better outfit but you sigh and go to open it anyway.

There he stands with shorts and a button up shirt that’s open, and his forehead is glistening with sweat but he smiles so brightly when he sees you.

He brings you in for a hug when you wrap an arm around his neck, kissing his cheek, and he kisses your neck and you already want him so much.

“This is Roy.” You present the black kitten to him, and he cackles. “Why the fuck did you name your kitten Roy?”

Roy mewls and Lando coos, taking him (the little thing can fit on one of his big, veiny hands). You stare at him, eyes glazed, lips open a little, and you want to tear the shirt off.

“Fuck it’s hot.” He sighs, and you nod, moving erratically.

“Have you been drinking?” He asks, grinning, and you smile cheekily while taking Roy back to put him on his bed with an ice pack.

You bend over purposefully, knowing he’s watching, and you hear that little hitch in his breath that has you going wild.

“Want a drink? I’ve still got like half a bottle of vodka left. I can make you a voddy coke or 7up or something.”

He shrugs and rubs a hand on your bare back, following you to the kitchen.

You’re pouring vodka, eyes focused, and you hear his breaths when he comes to stand next to you. You look up at him, blowing a kiss, and his hand slides down to rest on your arse, slapping it softly. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the warmth in between your legs.

You hand him the drink and hoist yourself onto the kitchen counter. “How’ve you been?” You ask, smiling, and reach up to run a hand over his facial hair that you have to admit that you find very hot despite some choice words on Twitter.

He takes a sip and bends down to kiss you, and you shiver in his grasp as his hand moves to the tie of your bikini top at the back, loosening and pulling the top off.

“I just missed you,” he whispered, and you can only stare as he rubs a thumb over your nipple and you stiffen.

He sets the drink down, glass clattering on the counter, and you take that shirt off, and he’s now in between your legs and his lips have that thing you’ve been craving for so long.

You run a hand over his firm chest and he is so warm. He gets you to jump off and shimmy you out of your shorts, and you’re left in your panties, taking them off, when he hoists you back on the counter.

The marble is cool beneath your skin and he spreads your legs, bending down to be in between your thighs and you’re shaking with the emotion of missing him.

He leans in and gently licks a stripe up your pussy, and you nearly ascend to a higher place when he buries his face in between your legs, nose nudging your clit. You’re on fire, and his fingers are suddenly helping, and he’s moaning a little into your cunt, the vibration against your clit making you move against his face, using the ridge of his nose to get your eyes to roll back.

His hands firmly hold you in place, slapping your cunt as you moan, and your hand goes to his hair, tugging as he eats you out like his life is on the line. The delicious feeling of his nose and his facial hair and his tongue and his fingers has you whining and moaning quietly as he hits a better spot.

“Lando, I’m- ‘m gonna…” your leg shakes as you teeter on the edge, listening for his instruction, and you’re digging your nails into his scalp before he taps your thigh as a confirmation and you come with a moan, legs shaking around his face. He keeps going as you move beyond sound, toes curling and core tensing as your mouth stays open, and he comes up, that stupid goatee shining with your arousal.

He has a glazed, pussy-drunk expression on his face. “Missed you,” he says, smiling goofily, and you laugh as you lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself as he brushes a thumb over your clit just to make you arch into him.

Then he’s pulling you off the counter and turning you around. “Bend over,” he says gruffly, and you arch your back, and you hear him take his straining cock out of his shorts, and you turn around to fist him once or twice just to make him eager.

Then with a questioning look you get on your knees and he is staring at you with heavy eyes, uncaring about his previous plan, and you put his cock in your mouth, unsteady as he fucks your throat, so needy.

“Waited- all month - for this mouth and this pussy.” He says in between gasps of pleasure and you moan, nearly choking, and he is so full of emotion as you deep throat him, and he moans before pulling you off. “Wanna- come - in you.” He pants and you stand up, knees weak, and he lines up his cock and pushes you around with a slap to your arse, bending you over. “This perfect pussy,” he says in a near-whisper, and you cry out with pleasure as he enters you, fucking you fast, and your tits bounce against the counter before you feel yourself coming again, and you barely have time to warn him before -

“Come for me,” he says, nearly splitting you in two as you curl over the counter, breathing erratically as you come, squeezing him with a moan of his name, and you feel him tense up inside you, and his hips stutter as he comes; you feel the warm ropes of cum shoot inside you, and you’re still sighing with pleasure as he leans over you, kissing your back.

🍸💋🏹☀️

You’re curled up next to him on your sofa when he pulls you into his body, the heat of the day finally diminishing, and you’re watching the football together when he plants little kisses on your neck. You grasp his thigh, yawning. He laughs.

“When will I see you again?” You ask, and he hums. “Two and a half weeks?”

You pout before he pulls you onto his lap. “I think this is more than what we’re calling it,” he says softly, and you laugh incredulously.

“You idiot. Of course it is.”

You press your head into his neck, relaxed, and you can practically hear the cogs in his brain turning.

“I like you a lot more than just a quick fuck,” he says gently, and you nod, “I miss you. And not just your body.” He says, faintly, and you listen to his next words. “I want to see you every morning. Listen to you sing in the shower. Pet Roy” - he cackles - “if you get what I mean?”

You laugh before his voice drops to just above a whisper, and he sounds vaguely surprised at what he is saying. “I… I want a part of your future. I want so much of you,” he says, unsteadily, and your heart beat quickens. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to fuck you all the time, but I also want this.” He gestures to the tv. “I guess what I want to say is that I love you.” He says frankly, and you turn around to face him with emotion brimming in your eyes.

“Oh Lando.” You sigh, hugging him, and his arms wrap around you. “I’ve wanted that since we first fucked,” you laugh, and he throws his head back, laughing, pushing you down on the couch before moving in between your legs, and you whimper softly.

🍸💋🏹☀️

Liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 463 others

yourusername London been hitting diff lately x

charlie.bby Baby Roy 😍

riabish I spot lando.jpg

landonorris Me and Roy are like this 🤞

bestieuser Awwww xxxx

tumblrinas this came from the depths i swear. i love writing smut for lando ngl. he’s soooo. let me know what you think! don’t be a silent reader pls xxxx

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Okay but like, Roy and Jamie weren’t exactly subtle about loathing each other, were they? They fought each other on the pitch and badmouthed each other on TV, none of that keep it quiet for the sake of the team shit for these extra boys, yeah? My point is, anyone who knows anything about English football knows that Roy Kent and Jamie Tartt used to hate each other, right?

So obviously, at some point, during some press conference or post game interview, someone needs to bring this fact up. Maybe it’s as early as after the 2x06 match, because Ted might well have insisted Roy and Jamie be the ones to front that, both because it was them that won that game and because he figures it’ll promote ~their bond~ or some such. Could be later too, after the headbutt/hug thing, or later still, once the pictures of Jamie and Roy’s early morning excursions start doing the rounds on social media.

Doesn’t matter much when, really, only that someone – maybe from the tabloids because they’re a vicious lot – would ask: “Roy, just weeks before you joined the Richmond coaching staff you said, and I quote, ‘Jamie Tartt is a muppet and I hope he dies of the incurable condition of being a little bitch’. Today you described him as the most important player on the field. What has changed?”

And maybe the room goes a bit quiet at that, oooh he fucking went there, and what the hell is going to happen now, but Jamie only cocks his head to the side, making a face but looking at Roy all amused like. “You said that about me? That hurts me feelings, Coach.”

And Roy rolls his eyes, exasperated but in too good a mood after the win to be really annoyed. “Yeah, well, as it turns out the condition was only mostly incurable, wasn’t it?”

And Jamie goes aaaw and the press goes um okay and it doesn’t really explain anything, only adds to the ever-evolving legend of what the fuck is up with Roy Kent and Jamie Tartt.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

You Already Know, Babe

Request: Heyy would I be able to pretty please ask for a Roy one-shot based of So High School? Mainly the lyric: "Truth, Dare, Spin Bottles. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle" (bc I have TTPD brainrot) Like I'd love to picture Roy with a total academic girl who loves classic literature and ancient greece and philosophy pls ???

Roy Kent x Reader

3.3k words

Warnings: Language, Roy being insecure, the guys making Roy feel bad (not on purpose)

A/N: Ahhh I also have TTPD brainrot so I loooooove this! I made the reader a uni professor. Also been wanting to do a Bantr fic for Roy for a while, so I incorporated that in too!

Roy scowled and sipped his beer. “Fuck no.”

Leaning forward in the booth they sat in, Keeley gave him her best puppy-dog eyes, the ones that stopped working the moment he got over her. “Come on, Roy. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it’d be good for you.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Jamie chimed in.

“‘Fuck no’ used to be a complete sentence,” Roy growled.

Before he could stop the striker, Jamie grabbed Roy’s mobile off the table, holding it just out of the gaffer’s reach. “Just… one… moment…” he huffed as Keeley did her best to hold Roy back. “Alright, we need a username.”

Roy rolled his eyes but stopped fighting against Keeley’s grip. “How about ‘This is fucking stupid’?”

“I think that’s against their policy,” Jamie hummed, eyes still on the phone.

Keeley thought for a moment. “RoyallySarcastic? Y’know, ROYally?”

Jamie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I got it!” He typed away before proudly showing the screen to Roy and Keeley. “RoyalPain,” he announced.

With a giggle, Keeley took the phone from Jamie and handed to Roy, who looked ready to kill his friends. “There we are Roy-o,” she said. “Welcome to Bantr.”

~

~

Roy sat at the small table, fidgeting with the shiny fork on the table and staring intently at the condensation on the glass of water in front of him. Why the fuck was he so nervous? He was Roy fucking Kent, he reminded himself sternly. He’d been on plenty of dates. Sure, this was his first Bantr date, but that shouldn’t really matter. He’d been on a couple of blind dates in the past; this shouldn’t be much different.

But it sure felt different when you walked in, all wide eyes and nervous smiles. You approached him hesitantly, cocking your head as you got closer. Your gaze flickered to the tattered copy of A Wrinkle in Time on the table next to him before settling on his face.

“RoyalPain?” you squeaked out, raising your eyebrows expectantly.

Before he could stop himself, he grinned and blurted out, “I Kant believe it’s you.” Immediately, he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nope, fuck, that was stupid. I’m sor-”

Your laughter eased his embarrassment as you sat across from him. “Don’t you dare apologize,” you countered. “That was cute.” You offered your name with a small smile.

“Roy,” he said simply, searching your face for any sign that you recognized him.

Instead, you nodded and leaned forward. “And what do you do, Roy?”

What did he do? He tried to remember the last time someone asked him that. “I work for a football team,” he said slowly. “A.F.C. Richmond.”

You nodded, interest all over your pretty face. “And what do you do at Richmond?”

He blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Do you… you don’t know who I am?” Fuck, he felt like an absolute asshole saying the words out loud.

“Sure I do,” you chuckled. “I just figured that Roy Kent doesn’t often get the chance to introduce himself. Thought I’d give you the opportunity.”

Roy couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, it was kind of dorky, but fuck, he liked it. Just like he liked hearing about your job as a uni professor, or the article you recently wrote about Arthurian legend, or the book you’d read recently. And he really liked the way you looked at him like he was the most fascinating thing in the world, more interesting than the well-renowned experts and authors you got to spend time with, asking him about his work and his life and his opinions. He smiled all through dinner, laughing at jokes even when they went over his head and making a mental list of books he now wanted to read.

He was still grinning as he walked you to your car after dinner, wondering when he’d last enjoyed himself so much on a date. As you fished your keys out of your purse, he found himself desperately hoping for another date with you. And another. And another.

“Could we do this again sometime?” he asked gently once your keys were in your hand.

Fuck, he loved the way your eyes lit up at his question. “Absolutely,” you breathed.

With a dizzy little nod, Roy cupped your face and tugged you close, ghosting his lips over yours. You gently laid your hands on his hips to press against him, deepening the kiss. You swore you could feel him smiling against your mouth as his thumb stroked your cheek. Some little part of you wanted to pull this man into your car, into your apartment, into your bed. But from the happy little hum that vibrated from his chest to yours, you knew you had plenty of dates ahead of you, plenty of time for all that, plenty of Roy Kent ahead of you.

~

After three weeks of dates and laughter and late-night phone calls and kisses that escalated to other things, Roy invited you to a match. He seemed weirdly nervous for a retired football legend whose dating history could fill any of the giant books that filled the shelves in your office, but you found his nerves nothing short of charming. So, you threw on some comfy jeans and a sweatshirt and climbed into Roy’s giant black car to go with him to Nelson Road, where he showed you his office before giving you your ticket and sending you off to your seat with a chaste kiss.

Roy was fighting the stupidest smile as he prepared for the match, the same stupid smile he’d been fighting since your first date. He was excited for you to see him and the Greyhounds in action, to be able to show off for you a little and, he didn’t fucking know, make you proud or some shit.

“Was that your girlfriend, Roy?” Sam raised his eyebrows as he and Jan stood in the doorway.

He cleared his throat. “No,” he said slowly. “But we’ve been dating for a few weeks.” He paused for a moment, hoping he didn’t look too dopey as he spoke. “She’s a professor. Fucking brilliant. Like, she teaches, and she’s been published and speaks at conferences.”

Jan spoke up. “Most men would not be able to handle dating a woman so much more educated than they are. Good for you, Coach. It’s nice that you are not intimidated by her clearly superior intellect.”

A knot appeared in Roy’s stomach, but he simply cleared his throat and gave a curt nod. “Yeah, well.” He blinked, not sure what the fuck he was supposed to say to that. “Best finish getting ready, hmm?”

Jan’s words continued to flutter around Roy’s mind like an annoying butterfly as he made his way out to the pitch. He liked that you were smart. Hell, he liked that you were smarter than him. He could listen to you talk for hours about literature and history and philosophy, especially when your eyes lit up and your voice got faster, the way he noticed it did when you were especially passionate about something. It was impressive, not to mention sexy as all hell. But there had definitely been moments over the last few weeks where he had to Google what you were talking about while you weren’t looking, or where he laughed at a joke he didn’t really understand. It came with the territory, he told himself. It was to be expected, dating someone like you.

And there you were, sitting in the seat Roy had selected for you, the one that gave you the perfect view of the dugout- per your request. You waved excitedly when you caught Roy’s eye, wearing that giant smile that made his heart skip a beat. He offered back a small wave, knowing full well that all the guys could see his furious blush.

“That your girl?” Colin asked, following Roy’s dreamy gaze.

Roy shrugged, turning his attention back to his team. “Uh, I guess?” he mumbled, taking the clipboard Nate handed him.

Sam spoke up. “Roy said she’s a uni professor.”

Respect covered the faces of the men that were clearly more interested in Roy’s love life than their impending match. They all started chattering over each other, ignoring Roy’s eyerolls and Beard and Nate’s amused expressions.

Richard waggled his eyebrows. “Does she offer special office hours for you, Coach?”

Roy wrinkled his nose at the Frenchman. “What the fuck is that supposed to-”

“Did you have to buy a new dictionary to keep up with her?” Zoreaux teased.

Isaac spoke up, clapping a hand on Roy’s shoulder. “Most guys would probably run for the hills if they had to keep up with a woman’s brainpower,” he started. “But Roy’s not intimidated. I mean, sure, we all know he’s no Einstein, but he’s got other great qualities. Like…”

Roy raised a cool eyebrow at the captain, more curious than offended at this point.

“Coaching,” Colin finally finished for Isaac. “He’s a great manager.”

Jamie pipped up now. “And she seems to really like looking at you, Grandad.” He nodded to the stands where, sure enough, you were still gazing at Roy, affection all over your face. “She’s cute,” he mused.

Roy cleared his throat, trying to focus attention to the match at hand and not your pretty smiles. Or the words of his players that had etched a deep frown onto his bearded face. “Alright, Greyhounds!” he hollered. “Let’s fucking focus, lads! We’ve got a fucking match to win!”

~

And they did win, much to Roy’s pleasure. Winning always felt good, but he had to admit that winning in front of a pretty girl felt fucking great. And it was even better when he found you waiting in his office, gazing at him as if you had hearts in your eyes.

“That was brilliant!” you gushed, wrapping your arms around his middle while his rested on your shoulders and tugged you close. You pressed a tiny kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much for inviting me, Roy.”

He smiled down at you and pecked your nose. “Think you’ll come again sometime?” he teased.

Your eager nodding melted his heart. “Absolutely,” you promised. “Maybe next time I’ll even wear a kit. Since I think I’m officially a Richmond fan now.”

“That kit better have a six on it,” Roy growled, smacking another kiss to your cheek. He gave you a small squeeze before releasing you. He reached down to grab your hand. “I’ve got to go talk to the press for a bit, he explained, leading you over to his desk. “D’you mind waiting here? We can grab dinner once I’m done,” he promised. “Here, you can even watch the presser on my computer.”

“Sounds perfect.” You touched his cheek and pulled him close for one more kiss. “Now get going, I want to see you be brilliant in front of all those reporters.”

Roy was still blushing when he got in front of the cameras. The press conference was a blur of questions and comments. He’d probably have to apologize to Keeley later, because he was sure he was dreamy and distracted the entire time. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so lovesick over a woman, and he especially couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed it so much.

When he returned to his office, he was surprised to see Jamie sitting on the edge of his desk, chatting pleasantly with you. You both lit up at the sight of him, with Jamie choosing to speak first as Roy offered a small grin to you.

“Your girl was just telling me about this seminar she’s speaking at next weekend,” he announced. “Some talk on the Lord of the Rings books and their impact on modern cinema.” He nodded to you. “It actually sounds really cool.” He slid off the desk with ease, offering you a wink. “Not sure what someone as smart as you is doing with Grandad here,” he joked.

He was kidding around. Roy knew that. Jamie loved to tease everyone, especially him. He was well-aware of the way Jamie admired him, as his childhood hero, as his coach, and, fuck it, fine, as his friend. Maybe it was all the joking from earlier, but Roy felt his face fall at Jamie’s teasing. He couldn’t help it; it was one thing for the guys to joke to his face, another to make a comment in front of you. He wouldn’t admit it even to himself, but some part of him was terrified you’d realize how brilliant you were, and how dull he was, and call the whole thing off.

Roy was so busy stewing in his childish embarrassment, he missed the way your eyebrows scrunched at Jamie, your mouth in a straight line. When you spoke, your voice was flat, maybe even a little angry, as you responded to the striker.

“I think,” you said slowly, “I’m going to dinner with him.” With that, you took Roy’s hand, hoping the adoration in your eyes would be enough to wipe that frown off his handsome features. “Ready, Roy?”

Roy nodded, but barely said a word as the two of you walked through the Dog Track, got into his car, and drove to the restaurant he’d been excitedly telling you about the day before. However, that excitement was nowhere to be seen as the two of you settled in and ordered some dinner. You cocked your head at him, wondering how someone who’d just coached such a great game could look so sullen- especially while on a date with someone he was supposed to really like.

“That match was incredible,” you offered, leaning forward with a smile. “Seriously, Roy. How do you do that? Being able to see the game unfold and know what plays to call, what players to have on the pitch. And all the preparation you have to do in advance. It’s like a really intense game of chess, with all those moving pieces, not knowing what the other side is going to do next.” You reached out and laid your hand on top of his. “Your team is so lucky to have you.”

His gaze avoided yours as he cleared his throat. “Dunno how much of it is me,” he chuckled hollowly. “I inherited a great team and have a really talented coaching staff.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I feel like I just… stand there and take up space.”

Now it was your turn to frown. This wasn’t the Roy Kent you met, the Roy Kent that teased you and smirked and made cocky comments just to make you laugh. Something had happened, something between the beginning of the match and the end, to make him so morose. Maybe something had happened in the match that you’d missed; you weren’t much of a sports fan before meeting Roy, you really only knew the basics, so it was possible what you thought was an incredible match was really something of a failure for him.

Maybe distracting him would help.

“I was telling Jamie Tartt about the conference I’m speaking at,” you tried again. “It’s this fantasy and pop culture thing. Kind of dorky,” you admitted. “But I’m really excited about my talk on Tolkien and his influence on modern cinema. My colleague was saying he really liked this one parallel I drew between Frodo and- well, I don’t want to spoil it.” You squeezed his hand. “You should come. I’ve seen you at work, now I want to show you what I do.” You shrugged. “Could even bring Jamie if you want.”

Roy nodded absently, not quite looking you in the eye. “Yeah, just make sure to get me a translator so I can understand what you’re saying.” His voice sounded like he was attempting to make a joke, but it fell flat. “Academics to neanderthal or some shit.”

That was enough of that, you decided. With a sigh, you leaned back, cocking your head at the gaffer and shooting him your sternest glare, the one you saved for students who didn’t know how to act like adults in your classroom. “Alright, Roy. What’s going on? You’re acting like you don’t want to be here, and, frankly, I don’t want to hang out with someone who doesn’t value my time.”

“I…” Roy let out a low growl and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re smart,” he finally blurted out. “Like, really, really fucking smart. You teach, and you’re published, and you speak in front of academic types who hang onto every word you say.” He released his nose and shook his head at you, embarrassment swimming in those brown eyes. “And I… played football. I coach football. That’s fucking it. I can’t stand the idea of you being embarrassed by the fact that I can’t keep up with you. That you’re going to turn around and realize I’m not smart enough for you.”

Your stomach twisted in knots as you took in the sight of him, looking devastated, like he was waiting for you to tell him he was right, he was a neanderthal, and that you didn’t think he was smart enough for you. If it wasn’t so sad, the picture of Roy looking so forlorn would be almost endearing.

“That,” you finally murmured, “might be the stupidest thing you’ve said since we met, Roy.” He nodded, a grimace covering his face as you went on. “Not smart enough for me?” you scoffed. “Roy, I think you’re brilliant.” You sighed and shook your head. “I mean, look at you today. I could never do what you do, managing an entire football team. And I’ve seen clips of you when you played, you were brilliant then too. Not just a skilled player, but a smart one. And from what you’ve said, you have great relationships with your players, with your niece and sister, hell even with your ex-girlfriend. That takes an emotional intelligence most people don’t have.”

“I mean-”

You shushed the gruff man. “’m not finished. And what’s this about you not being able to keep up with me? You read almost as much as I do, Roy. When you don’t know something, you immediately learn everything you can about it. You absolutely tore through ‘Le Morte d'Arthur’ after our first date so you could ask me about my King Arthur article.” A smile finally broke through your face. “So, unless this is some roundabout way of trying to say you don’t want to see me anymore, please stop insulting the man I’m dating and accept that there’s different kinds of intelligence. And I like your intelligence quite a bit.”

For a moment, you thought you may have completely overwhelmed Roy. He blinked at you with an unreadable expression before letting out a breathy chuckle. With raised eyebrows and something that looked close to a smile, he finally opened his mouth.

“I’ve just… never had such an intelligent girlfriend before,” he said slowly. “I’ve dated smart women. Driven women. But no one like you. It’s… a little scary, how brilliant you are.” That something close to a smile became a real grin as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “And really fucking sexy,” he added quickly.

Your heart skipped a beat with every word out of his mouth. “You’ve never had a nerdy girlfriend before, hmm?” you teased.

His expression was bashful, but absolutely pleased. “No,” he chuckled. “I haven’t.”

A smirk crossed your face as you batted your eyes at him. “Do you want a nerdy girlfriend?”

Those brown eyes were so soft, so full of affection as he nodded gently. “Yeah,” he breathed, raising those thick eyebrows at you. “I really fucking do.”

“That,” you hummed with a silly grin, “might be the smartest thing you’ve said all day, Roy.”

[elloras]

Very relevant little story for Roy (and Jamie.)

Transcript:

Brett: There's a footballer that I spoke to in kind of researching this before I played Roy, and he told me this story that I always think about. 'Cause he -- I know this guy, and he's lovely, he's a lovely guy, but, when he played football, he was a captain, and he told me like, his job was...his job was to (*laughs*) be good at football, but it was also to scare people. He was like, you want people, when they're coming towards you with the ball, that they're scared. That they're thinking uh-oh, I'm about to face him. And he told me this story, of when he was like an aging footballer, when he was in his last few years, he was about to play a game, the teams were on the pitch, sort of warming up before the game, and there's this young kid, like an 18-year-old, making his debut on the other team. And the kid sort of comes over to him, really nervous, and he says, "Hey man, I'm so sorry to interrupt, I just want to say, hello, I have your poster on my wall, you're a legend, you've been my favorite footballer since I was a kid." And my guy, turns to the kid and he goes, *deeper, snarly Roy Kent voice* "Who the fuck are you? I don't fucking know you." Because he's about to play him in a game, and the kid was so shocked and horrified like "Oh god, oh god!" And [the footballer] said, and yeah, we won the match that day. And I was like, it's such an interesting story, like you know... 'Cause I know the guy in real life he'd have been so flattered like "Oh wow! That's very nice, thank you." But, "Not today. Not when I'm playing you, son." Interviewer: Feels like Roy would do that. Brett: Absolutely he would! Yeah.

Source

[wlntrsldler]

now i see daylight | part ii: treacherous

song: treacherous by taylor swift

series description: set after lust conquers all, jamie returns to richmond and takes accountability for treating you like shit.

warnings: language-- it's ted laso, what did ya expect?; bff!sam, touch starved jamie and reader, A LOT OF ALCOHOL, richmond himbos

pairing: jamie tartt x f! reader

word count: 2054 words

series masterlist | main masterlist

When the whistle was blown for full time, the cheers in the arena were deafening. You couldn’t hear yourself think and everything seemed to slow. You stood behind Roy, clutching your camera, as you watched the sea of red and blue storm the field. You were only snapped out of your thoughts when Will jumped on your back, hugging you from behind. 

“We’re moving up!” Will screamed behind you, beaming from ear to ear. “Come on, Y/N, let’s celebrate!” 

You placed your camera on one of the seats under the tent and tossed a jacket over it. You followed Will into the middle of the field where all of the coaches, players, and fans were celebrating. 

“Dani Rojas you legend!” You yelled, running toward Dani. He grinned at you, picking you up by your waist to spin you around. “I am so fucking proud of you!” 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he put you down, holding you by your shoulders. “You will come to the after-party, yes?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it.” 

You made your rounds with all of the players. Most of them were so excited, they couldn’t say anything but, “Let’s goooooo!” Colin threw an arm around you and walked you over to Sam, who you still hadn't seen because of the chaos. When Sam saw you, he ran to you, smiling so wide you were sure his cheeks hurt. 

“Y/N! Can you believe it? We are back in the Premier League!” 

“I believe it. I knew you guys could do it.” 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he hugged you tightly. “Are you coming to the after-party? Please tell me you will. I can pick you up.” 

You tutted, “Samuel, I will be there but you are not driving tonight. You deserve to get absolutely trashed.” 

“Agreed, mate.” 

There was that accent again. You turned around to see Jamie, glowing under the lights. Ever since the day he cornered you in the hallway, he made do with his promise. He didn’t bother you again unless it was for work. You’ve been more courteous to him. You no longer ignored his “good mornings,” or “how are ya’s,” but you still kept your distance. However, your resolve was slowly fading. Being around him again made you remember why you were so drawn to him in the first place. With him being a different version of himself now, it increased that attraction tenfold. 

Sam looked between the two of you and smirked, walking away discreetly. He’s noticed the small smiles on your face whenever Jamie would come around. You tried to hide it, but Sam knew you too well. 

You turned your body to look at Jamie, shyly looking at him. Jamie met your eye, eyes twinkling in a way that you haven’t seen since the last night you shared with him. He had a boyish smile on his face. You pursed your lips, trying not to let a smile slip, but you were unsuccessful. Jamie’s eyes got brighter, which you didn’t realize was possible. 

“Great job, Jam.” 

Jamie let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding at the sound of his nickname leaving your lips. He bit his bottom lip, stretching his hand out for a handshake, “I appreciate it, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes and smacked his hand away. You walked toward him and pulled him into a hug. Jamie froze in your arms for a second before melting into the hug and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You didn’t realize how much you missed him until you felt his arms tighten around your torso. It was like you finally got a taste of the thing you were craving for months as if there was nothing else in the world that could’ve made this moment sweeter, better. 

Your hand made its way to the back of his neck, where you cradled the back of his head, fingers softly tugging on his hair. It was muscle memory, how you used to cuddle him on his couch all those months ago. Jamie sighed into your skin, his warm breath awakening you from the trance you were under, causing you to pull away. 

Both of your faces were flushed when you pulled apart. Jamie cleared his throat, looking down at his feet, before vaguely motioning somewhere as if there was something requiring his attention. You did the same, leaving to go in the opposite direction as him. 

You turned around and saw Keeley with a smirk on her face, arms crossed with a knowing look. “World must be ending, I suppose?” 

Blushing, you shoved her lightly, “Shut up.” 

In true Captain fashion, Isaac rented a giant party bus for all of the players and a few special guests, including you, Keeley, Roy, and Will. The bus was taking all of you to a club in London that Isaac bought out for the night to celebrate the win and promotion. Roy, who should know better now that he was a coach, denounced his coach-ship before he stepped foot on the bus, stating that tonight he was “going to have the fucking time of my life!”

When you walked into the bus with Sam, you were hit with the sound of a club beat. Players were already a few drinks in from the bottles of beer and liquor scattered around the bus. Jan Maas was holding onto the pole, laughing as he fist-pumped to the song. Richard had a bottle of red wine in his grasp, which you later saw had a sticker on it that said “Property of Richard Montlaur.” Colin and Isaac were in the corner singing into a bottle of gin when “Hotel Room Service” by Pitbull started playing. 

Sam was pulled from you by O’Brien who made him take shots. With you both being the last two the team was waiting for, the bus lightly jerked as it began its journey to London. The entire team cheered, raising bottles in the air. 

You laughed as you tried to make your way around the bus, trying to find a friendly face that wasn’t too far gone. You knew all of them would regret this in the morning. You turned to your right and found Jamie and Dani sharing a bottle of tequila, laughing at something that you’d later learn was not that funny. 

“Y/N!” Dani yelled when he saw you. He scooted over on the leather bench, leaving a space next to Jamie for you to occupy. “You are here!” 

“I am!” You replied, shaking your head at how far gone the boys already are and you’ve barely even left Nelson Road. “How you guys feelin’?”

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” Jamie replied, taking another sip from the bottle. He handed it to you, which you took. You drank some and grimaced when the strong taste hit your tongue. 

The two boys laughed as you passed the bottle to Dani. Dani stood up, holding onto the pole that Jan Maas was holding earlier, and began to make his rounds in the bus. He kept offering the bottle to anyone he saw. You couldn’t help but laugh at how they all took the bottle from Dani, despite not liking tequila. 

“‘M glad you’re here.” 

Your attention focused back on Jamie, who was staring up at you. His eyes were clouded, eyelids droopy. You playfully punched his shoulder, “How are you already drunk?” 

Jamie furrowed his eyebrows, “You and Sam were so late. We had to get started without you lot.” 

“We were thirty minutes late.” 

“A lot can happen in thirty minutes.” 

You snorted. It made Jamie smile. He bumped your knee with his. You looked at where your bodies touched. Your breath got stuck in your throat. You swallowed, “I guess I need to catch up.” 

“Damn right,” a lopsided smirk graced his lips. He dug behind him in the ice bucket and pulled out a bottle of Clase Azul. He handed it to you, “Go on then.” 

“Menace,” you replied, grabbing the bottle from him. Your fingers brushed, sending shocks throughout your entire body. “You know I can’t say no to good tequila.” 

“Yeah, that’s why I bought it,” he shrugged, opening a beer. “I bought it for you. Nearly broke Bumbercatch’s arm when he tried to open it earlier.” 

“Jamie, this is an expensive bottle of tequila.” 

“Yeah well, Coach wouldn’t let me buy the whole team PS5s as a sorry, but he didn’t say anything about buyin’ you expensive liquor.” 

You were sure that Jamie was only saying this because the alcohol was clouding his better judgment. He probably won’t remember this in the morning, or at the very least, he’d wonder whether or not this was real life or just something his mind made up. You opened the bottle and took a long swig from it. 

As good as the tequila was, you still grimaced, frantically searching to find a chaser. Jamie, who remembered your drinking habits, held out a cup of Diet Coke. You downed the entire cup, sighing in relief when the taste of tequila was masked by the sugary drink. “Thanks, Jam.” 

“Missed you callin’ me that,” he admitted, a look of longing on his face. “Missed you in general, to be honest. Been hell without you in my life.” 

“Jamie,” you started, turning your body to him. “You’re drunk so I suggest you stop talking.” 

“Am I makin’ you uncomfortable?” Jamie asked, concern on his face. He sobered for a moment, blinking back as if he was trying to figure out what he just said. 

“No, no,” you assured him, placing a hand on his thigh. He tensed under your touch, letting out a shaky breath. You were really close to each other now. “You’re not making me uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to say anythin’ you’ll regret in the morning.” 

“Don’t think that’ll happen,” he said, nonchalantly. He took a sip from his beer, trying not to move too much in fear that you would remove your hand from his thigh if he did. Hesitantly, he started drawing figure eights with his pointer finger on your hand that was touching him. He let out a breath when you didn’t pull away. “Been regrettin’ not saying anything to ya. Should’ve told you how I felt that night. Or any night after that, really. I was just bein’ a prick ‘cause I was hurt that Richmond let me go.” 

You stayed silent. You didn’t know what to make of his words. Was he talking about the night you told him how you felt? Surely not. What does he mean by tell you how he felt?

Jamie continued, “And the thing was, I knew Richmond had no say in whether or not I was goin’ back to Man City, but it still hurt, I guess. Woke up to a text sayin’ I had to go back to Man City from my agent. Not even a text from Ted, or Keeley, or you. Thought I didn’t mean nothin’ to any of ya, so I just shut everyone out.” 

“And it’s real shit of me to do, ain’t it? Especially how I treated ya. I don’t blame you for not forgiving me or giving me a second chance.” He stopped drawing on your hand. He drank from his beer again. You looked at him. He had a small and nervous smile on his face. Testing his luck, he brought a hand up to touch your face. “Shame I fucked it all up really ‘cause you’re the only person I ever actually wanted to spend the rest of my life with.” 

“Jamie–” 

“Come on, party animals!” Isaac yelled from the front of the bus. Somehow the top five buttons of his shirt became undone during the drive. He slung an arm around Will, who had a tie wrapped around the circumference of his head, “Let’s get iiiiiittttttt!” 

The bus erupted in hollers as players trickled out of the bus. Sam, who was giggly under the influence, found you next to Jamie. Jamie, seeing that Sam was there to walk you out of the bus, waved goodbye to you and caught up with Bumbercatch. You held the Clase Azul bottle close to your body as you threw on a fake smile, walking off the bus with Sam.

--

part i: don't you

part iii: daylight

[iwritefandomimagines]

HE’S NOT YOU — JAMIE TARTT

masterlist

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

description: as a chelsea women’s player, you’re well acquainted with the men’s team too. given that before you signed for chelsea you had joked that mason mount was your only other footballer crush, jamie is less than impressed by your friendship.

warnings: swearing, jealous!jamie (can regular readers tell i’m a sucker for jealousy fics lmao), also ft. roy being an advice giving legend. soft in the end <3

author’s note: i picked mason because i love him lol sorry this was self-indulgent. based on a request for jealous jamie :-) enjoy & thank u as ever for reading x

“You comin’ over tonight then, babe?”

Jamie’s eyes bored into yours as his hands firmly gripped your waist, both of you leaning on the wall of the Richmond changing room about to head out.

You’d come to watch him train early, as you had the weekend off training yourself and wanted a little extra time with your boyfriend.

Well, that and you’d made evening plans with some of your Chelsea teammates and the men’s team too, and you didn’t want Jamie to be disappointed when you reminded him you were busy tonight.

“Sorry baby, I’ve got plans with the squad tonight, remember?” you pouted, and you watched his face drop, “I mean— you can come too if you’d like?”

“Is it just your squad or… like, Chelsea?”

You narrowed your eyes at this question, but before you could ask why it mattered, your phone buzzed and you pulled it out to see a message in your group chat.

MASON: what time did we agree again?

Jamie couldn’t help the way that his eyes snapped down to your phone, and you noticed the scowl that spread on his face at the sight of the message.

“Yeah, you know what, I will come,” he puffed out his chest a little, standing up straight and running a hand through his hair, “What’s the plan, princess?”

You were more than confused by his reaction, “Uh, we’re just going to get drinks somewhere. Are you alright? Why do you look like I’ve just hidden your hair products and not like I’ve invited you on a night out?”

He crossed his arms over his chest with a scoff, “I don’t. Am fine. Text me where to meet you and I’ll be there. See you later, babe.”

Before you could ask again why he was being so strange about this, he’d kissed you on the forehead and turned to leave.

“I’m guessing by the look on his face, that message was from Mason Mount?” suddenly Roy Kent had appeared at your side, his arms crossed and his brow quirked.

You nodded, but huffed as you replied, “Yeah it was. But what does that matter?”

You had been surprised with how close you’d become to Roy in the time that you’d known him — both as a legend at your own club and one at Richmond.

But, and in particular when you started dating Jamie, he’d been like an older brother to you — always checking in to make sure Jamie treated you right, giving you advice (as best as the grumpy old man could, anyway).

You were eternally grateful for how he treated you, though right now you had no fucking clue what he was talking about.

“C’mon, Y/N/N,” he raised his eyebrow even more, like you were an idiot for not realising the problem. Maybe you were, “Before you signed for Chelsea, you told Jamie that you had a thing for Mason. However stupid your little crush was, he’s obviously not happy that you’re friends with him now.”

Wow. Okay.

“We’re just friends, though, and it’s not like I’d be spending the night alone with him,” you frowned, feeling guilty that your boyfriend felt that way and that he didn’t feel that he could talk to you about it.

“It doesn’t help that Jamie’s had a tough season and your new star boy mate is this season’s top scorer (a/n: 😐 like i said, self-indulgent lol) and he plays for your club,” Roy shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “He just sees him as competition. And he’s not going to tell you that.”

Before he could react, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, “Thanks Roy, you’re the best. I’m gonna go speak to him about it.”

“Oi, oi,” he pulled back a little, but not entirely as this was you, “Alright. Go get him out of his little tantrum. And say hi to the Chelsea lot for me.”

“Will do, Kent, will do.”

You pulled out your phone again as he walked away with a low chuckle.

Y/N: J, babe, where are you? can i come get ready at yours tonight please? x

JAMIE: you sure you want to? but yeah sure x

Y/N: don’t be daft, of course i do. i’ve got some stuff to do quickly and then i’ll be at yours, ok? x

JAMIE: ok, princess. see you soon x

You turned up to his house two hours later, and when you knocked the front door he answered in seconds, like he’d been anxiously waiting for you.

You slung your bag down from your shoulder, placing it by the front door and scooping your arms around your neck to kiss him, “Hey, baby.”

“Hiya,” he smiled, kissing you back for a moment, “What made ya want to come here and get ready?”

He seemed uncharacteristically shy as he asked this, as though he was worried about your answer.

“You want the honest answer?”

“Well, yeah. Course. Unless it’s bad. Is it bad?”

“Roy told me how you feel about me being mates with Mase,” okay, maybe you shouldn’t have called him that in this conversation, but you pressed on, “I wanted to talk to you about it, because I didn’t realise you felt like that.”

He swallowed thickly, frowning down at you as you followed him into the living room to continue the conversation.

“Is this the part where you tell me you’re seeing him behind me back or something? Or that you don’t want me to come tonight?”

You sighed, shaking your head and grabbing both of his hands in yours, “The opposite, J.”

He shrugged, “I’d get it. He’s Mason fuckin’ Mount and you’ve fancied him forever. At least his club don’t hate him (a/n: once again self indulgent here) and he’s scoring goals left right and fucking centre at the minute.”

Once again you hooked your arms around him, pulling him closer to you as you forced eye contact.

“Jam, I’m not seeing him and I wouldn’t want to. I have you, and you’re all I want. Sure, I do think you’re fit as fuck on the pitch, but I don’t just fancy you ‘cause you’re a good footballer,” you pleaded with him, and his face softened, “I don’t have a thing for Mason, and scoring goals is hardly gonna swing that for me. I joked that I thought he was attractive before I knew him, yeah, but he’s just a mate and I don’t look at him like that. He’s not you, Jamie, he’ll never be you.”

He seemed half-satisfied by this for a moment, before gritting his teeth and shaking his head, “He plays for your club though, you go for coffee all the time, you have a laugh with him while I’ve been a miserable prick ‘cause I’m playing like fuckin’ shit at the moment.”

It broke your heart to hear him say that, and suddenly you felt like an absolute arsehole for not noticing how he felt sooner and doing something about it.

“Who he plays for doesn’t matter, neither does the fact I like his company as a friend,” you pouted, “But I haven’t done a good enough job of making that clear, and I promise I’ll make sure I do in future because I never want you to feel insecure. I love you, J. Just you. And the fact that you’re struggling at the moment just makes me want to help you, not fuck you off for someone else.”

He kissed you softly, a sort of subtle thank you gesture for your words, even though you weren’t sure he entirely believed them.

He’d never been insecure before, always so certain of himself.

But when it came to you, he was always worried that he wasn’t good enough and you’d realise that eventually.

“We don’t have to go tonight, you know that yeah?” you asked, pushing a hair that had fallen from behind his hair band into his face, “We can do something just me and you. Or stay in.”

He shook his head, “Nah, we should go. It’ll be fun, and I probably should meet him without being a prick to him because I get so jealous that I usually am.”

“It’s fair enough,” you shrugged, “But he’s lovely, and he’s a big fan of you. Thinks you’re class, and wants you to sign for us if anything.”

This seemed to perk Jamie up more, both because it meant Mason was well aware you were taken and because he thought he was class.

“Maybe I should,” he smirked, kissing your nose.

“Now c’mon, if we’re going out I need to get ready,” you hummed, “I look like shit and if I’m going to show up with my hot boyfriend for the first time, I have to try and look at least slightly close to your league.”

He scoffed, “Don’t be daft, you’re gorgeous. World class. Can’t wait to show off my girl.”

You beamed, blushing crimson under his intense gaze before he leaned in and kissed you again.

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d ever want anyone else when I’ve got Jamie fuckin’ Tartt, eh?”

“You know what, princess, you’re right.”

———

thank you for reading !!! i hope this was okay, sorry if it’s a little messy but it was fun to write because i <3 soft jamie and also love mason mount ridiculous amounts lmao so this was based on a jealousy request but also v self indulgent.

if you have more requests please let me know — and in the meantime here is my masterlist!

[beybaldes]

but I ignore things, and I move sideways

summer sleepover masterlist

roy kent x gn!reader

summary : “defending them against everyone, even when they’re not there to witness it” requested by anon

content warning : i make everyone out to be a dick for the sake of the plot

an : i <3 roy kent and I hope he is happy forever !! title comes from ‘growing sideways’ by Noah Kahan I really recommend great song and no skip album!!

“I’m just saying, since his injury, he has become a has been. There is no shame to it, it is just a fact.”

Usually, you’d let Jan Mass’s bluntness slide, given - as each member of the team had explained to you at some point - he wasn’t mean, just Dutch. Usually, his casual cruelness in the name of being honest didn’t concern Roy, however.

“Unfortunately, I have to agree.” Dani added, surprising you and the rest of the room. “If a baby was born today, they wouldn’t know ‘Roy Kent, football legend’ they know ‘Roy Kent, coach for Richmond.”

While Dani’s words greatly discredited and diminished Roy’s career to his post-injury life, his kinder explanation had the rest of the lads humming and nodding in agreement.

“Doesn’t make it any less mean.” You spoke up, everyone attention snapping to you, where you’d been sat in front of Roy’s old locker - you’d become somewhat attached to the seat in all your years with Roy spent in this changing room. “Yeah, sure, Dani’s right. A baby born today would probably hear about Roy Kent the coach before Roy Kent the footballer. But one search of his name would tell you otherwise.”

You couldn’t look at them as you spoke. Despite wanting to stand up for him, knowing you would regardless of who or what they were saying about him, it didn’t make you any less nervous. “He’s not a fucking has been though, is he? Each and every one of you take his criticisms as Gospel, work as hard as possible to meet his expectations and preach the Roy Kent effect like it’s the only thing keeping the team running. Is that a has been? Or is that a great fucking coach who works his ass off to keep you guys together?”

Sam placed a hand against your arm, your eyes snapping up to meet his. “Ignore Jan Mas, he is just-“

“Dutch. I know.” Turning to face the blonde that had started the outrage you were feeling. “But there’s a difference between being honest and blunt about it and just being fucking mean.”

You left the changing room after you’d spoke, fed up with the boys you had come to love like family. Unfortunately for them, you loved Roy more then you loved them.

“They were right.” Isaac growled, arms folded across his chest as he spent a moment staring down each and every person in the changing room. “We know that’s not true about Roy, and non of us stood up for him. We’re fucking cowards.”

The second the doors to the changing room had closed behind you, you bumped right into a firm chest, rough hands grabbing at your arms to keep you up. Upon recognising the heather-charcoal shirt, you melted into the touch, tucking your head into the junction of his neck and shoulder without a word. Before you could vent your frustrations to the coach, he pressed a kiss to your temple, leaving his lips ghosting against your ear and you in his arms.

“Heard you in there, sticking up for me.” Roy scoffed, though not offendedly. You could almost feel his heart beating out of his chest as he held you against him. “Nice of you.”

“Of course I’d stick up for you, Roy.” You pulled your head from the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and staring up at the dark haired man you loved so much. “I’d stick up for you anytime, anywhere, to anyone.”

Roy had never been good with words; and he knew he’d never be able to truly tell you how much your actions meant to him. He often thought of himself as a has been, someone past their prime who was still hanging around cause he had nothing else going for him - but you clearly didn’t think that, and that was enough for Roy. However, he hoped that as he pulled you in for a delicate kiss, featherlight and gentle in a way you weren’t overly used to with Roy, that you understood.

You did. Completely.

[thepersonnamedsam]

hello! i hope you’re doing well!! could i request some dating headcanons for jamie x reader x roy? if you’re not comfortable writing poly ships, then just headcanons for Jamie would be fine!! i just found your blog but i just want to say that your writing is super amazing!! thank you!!

headcanons - jt9 & rk6

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader x roy kent

summary: headcanons about the favourite poly couple on the field

warnings: i sincerely hope no one sees this as a warning, but still; poly couple, some sexual themes but nothing explicit

note: thank you so much for your request! and i’m glad that you like my stuff <3 it’s more like a story than headcanons, hope it’s okay like this.. :)

masterlist / taglist

roy kent - the man, the myth, the legend, would you ever see him in a relationship? probably. would you ever see him in a relationship with one than more person? but that’s exactly what’s going on

you met jamie first, he was a little prick you weren’t very fond of, but when he transferred to afc richmond, he changed. he also met roy

jamie introduced you to roy and he fell for you immediately - you didn’t

it took you a while to like both of them

but you did like jamie first

it made roy furious - he started to treat jamie like some sort of slut

that’s when you talked to roy and you felt something when he looked at you with those eyes

your stomach churned and your heart fluttered- you didn’t do anything though

what you did do, was tell jamie

he was shocked at first, but he kind of understood your feelings

because he kind of felt those feelings for roy too

you mastered a plan to tell roy, but he crashed it, when he just pulled you aside one day and kissed you

he told you, that he couldn’t stop thinking of you and that he would tolerate the prick

you were so happy, both boys or men as roy would say, now happy and yours

at first you tried to hide your relationship- the team knew you were dating jamie, so the relationship between you and roy and jamie and roy had to be kept a secret

the relationship between roy and jamie was anyway a bit different- they weren’t like a couple couple (at least they thought they weren’t)

it was more like a bromance rather than a romance

hugging and showing love in the way of saying it or light touches was normal between the two, but kissing or even sex, wasn’t happening between the two ballers

as non intimate the relation between those two were, yours with them was even more intimate

jamie is definitely the soft one, he treats you like a princess. does everything for you and wants you all the time

roy on the other hand was a bit more harder. he is a softie inside and only lets you see this side when you two were alone, you loved it though. but when jamie is around, he is this big, rough teddy bear

it was hard for roy to not show you his love around the team

he once even wanted to ask the diamond dogs what to do - until he realised that they also didn’t know

but sooner or later the team found out

it was when jamie’s dad just showed up and jamie punched him, when roy realised that he gave a fuck about what the others were thinking and that jamie needed him right then

the team was about hesitant at first, not understanding the whole dynamic, but they soon understood it and supported you fully

at the end of the day, you three were laying on bed, jamie in the middle of you and roy, his head was laying on your chest and roy was spooning him from behind

your right hand on his cheek, stroking it softly, and the left hand in his hair, massaging it gently

roy had his arm around his waist

you were whispering sweet nothings, told him about your day and how much you missed your boys

jamie is such a softie, but you loved it

he cried that night, but he was glad his two loved ones were right by his side

roy is usually the jealous type- when jamie received too much attention from you he was grunting, not voicing his feelings, just grunting

but it was okay for tonight

you were usually the one who cooked - the boys are on cleaning duty

roy usually didn’t complain, oh but jamie, my god does he complain

„why do i have to clean up the kitchen? you were the one who cooked?“ he would say after you cooked the meal

and roy mostly responded like this: „that’s exactly why we have to do it, you little fuck, she already cooked!“

roy swears like a sailor, we all know that, it didn’t make you uncomfortable, but hearing fuck every two seconds was something to get used to

so he tried to tone it down - it didn’t work

jamie laughed every time when he saw you twisted up face in the beginning

but after some time you didn’t even hear it anymore

but believe me, roy would do anything for you

getting you both from the night club because you were too drunk to even remember where you were

buying you expensive gifts because that’s what you deserve

bringing home flowers to surprise you

helping jamie, because that’s the only wish you ever had - that the two boys would love each other

and they did, in their own way

you loved them and they loved you, very much so

and you were so happy to have them in your life

i mean, how could you not love them

°°°

taglist: @topguncultleader , @lovelyy-moonlight , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @thybulleric

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Eleven

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes

A/N: it's been over a month i have no excuse other than MY BRAIN HURTS and I AM SO TIRED but i am so glad to be out of this rut. get ready for more, and get excited for this incredibly roy centric chapter

Word Count: 7.2k

Chapter Eleven

A month or so later you sat, rigid and tense, in the green room at Sky Studios. Up until then, the fanciest or most intense place you’d ever visited was that of AFC Richmond, the Dogtrack, but these studios kicked Nelson Road out of the fucking stadium. The only way you could describe it was sterile. Like a hospital, or some morbid place where people came to sit and be quiet, except you weren’t here for either of those things. 

You were here to see Roy, and that was the most intense part of it all. 

In the green room was a screen with a live relay from the stage, where you saw Roy, Jeff and Chris sitting at their familiar, unusually large, commentary table. They were taping some bits for an upcoming episode of Soccer Saturday, the parts where they weren’t required to be there live and in person. 

The breath hitched in your throat whenever Roy appeared on screen. It was still entirely new and off-putting, yet the internet had blown up when they’d seen the ex-Captain on the show. Finally, Roy Kent was back in the football world. Not playing, or coaching, but commentating. It was a good alternative, and he rocked it during the show, even despite his way with words and his… not entirely enthused demeanour. To anyone that didn’t know Roy, they’d probably think him crude and rude and blunt, all the ways he’d been described in the past in the press. To those that knew Roy inside and out, watching him on TV was like a breath of fresh air. Those closest to him had been saying the same thing for years– I could listen to you talk for hours and not get bored. 

You were no different, and in fact, had known Roy for over a year now. It was crazy how time flies, wasn’t it?

When he’d texted you an invite to the studios, you’d said yes immediately. Your time with Roy was short enough already, but now that he’d landed the gig his time was being soaked up more and more. You found yourself now, sitting at your desk at Pluto Press, just thinking about when you’d next see him. Any opportunity that arose you took by the fucking balls, and that’s exactly what went down when he’d asked you to the studios. 

Right guys, that’s a wrap for today. See you at the weekend. 

The show director said over the live screen, and you watched intently as Roy and his co-hosts had their microphone packs removed. The sound switched off immediately, but Chris approached Roy and stuck out his hand. The two legends shook hands quickly, and you noticed the smallest of smiles appear on Roy’s face as they pulled away. 

It made you smile back at them, bashfully, to yourself. There was something warming about seeing Roy interact with others like this. It was rare to catch him in a good mood at any of his prior jobs– which you knew very well from working alongside him at the Dogtrack– but seeing him enjoy his time, become buddy-buddy with Chris fucking Kamara, and all the rest made you exceptionally happy. 

You were proud of his successes, and understood his plunders. You wanted to feel that he felt the same about you in return, but you’d started this thing where you tried not to think about him like that. Assumptively, or overly-affectionately, or anything that reminded your heart of how you really felt about the man on the screen before you. It was just like you’d said to Keeley and Rebecca– you would never mention it, never tell him, and you were okay with that. 

You were okay with that. 

You jumped suddenly when the door to the green room burst open. A production assistant entered, headset donned and clipboard in his hands, shoved into his chest like he’d die without it. “Roy Kent’s plus one?” he asked. 

You looked around the empty room. You were the only one in there, but the assistant hadn’t even met your eye yet. You cleared your throat and raised your hand in the air, like a schoolgirl in class. The production assistant finally met your eye, and then clicked at you abruptly. 

“You– right. Come on, you’re wanted on set,” he said. 

You wasted no time standing up and pushing past him at the door, heart in your throat. The two of you navigated the backstage corridors of the studio, until you finally emerged on the set of Soccer Saturday. The lights were bright, too bright, and exceptionally warm to stand beneath. Camera operators, gaffers and runners still milled about the set, but you blocked them out as you went to step onto the stage. 

“Can I?” you asked the production assistant from earlier. He glanced up and went to object, opening his mouth wide, but stopped as soon as a hand descended on his shoulder. 

“‘Course you can,” Roy said, peering down at the production assistant. “Isn’t that right, Jacob?”

Jacob nodded, no doubt sweating profusely as Roy hoarded himself over the skinny kid. He was definitely younger than you by a number of years, probably fresh out of university. “Y-yes, of course, Roy.” 

You looked away, not wanting to laugh so meanly at the ordeal. It was just so Roy of him to intimidate crew at the studios, probably just from standing and doing nothing. It made your chest compress painfully, as you forced yourself away from the all-encompassing nostalgia of being around him all the time before, at the Dogtrack, and seeing it in person a whole lot more. 

God, you thought you needed a fucking lobotomy with how much you still clung onto the past. It only made you feel more childish, more pathetic, with every flashback that hit your brain and made you swallow away the want to cry. 

You stepped onto the stage a bit more, and looked out towards the several cameras. They all pointed in your direction, camera one and two and three, and however many more. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered, scoffing at it all as Roy joined you on stage. “This is intense.”

“I never know how to react when I realise people can see my beard in 4K,” Roy said, as a small smile curled onto his face. He peered down at you softly, his gaze flicking across your features as you looked around the set curiously. “It’s good to see you.” You turned to him and looked up, smiling at him bashfully. 

This was just it– those little moments where you’d happily melt into a puddle on the ground beneath him, but you couldn’t. 

You coughed, laughing awkwardly, before you gently poked him in the chest. “You too,” you said, trying to keep things as playful as possible. Roy perked his brow at you questioningly, amused, but didn’t comment. Instead, he watched you panic subtly as you continued around the set, until you’d rounded the desk to his chair. 

“May I?” you asked. 

Roy bowed at you smally. “Be my fucking guest.” 

You sat down in his chair slowly, and leaned your elbows on the desk before you. You shuffled your shoulders, and puffed out your chest. “Oh, I could get used to this,” you said, feeling powerful. Roy growled at you gently. “Come on, sit in Jeff’s chair.”

If Roy wanted to object in any way, he didn’t. He obediently made his way around the desk and sat in Jeff Stelling’s chair, all the while looking at you like you were gold. You sucked in a deep breath and cleared your throat. “So, Jeff– what did you make of AFC Richmond’s last game? When will these fucking tied games end, hm?” you said, putting on your most gravelly voice possible in an attempt to imitate Roy. 

He sighed, but he still didn’t object. A small smile was still curled on his lips, and it made your gut coil. He leaned forward, and adopted Jeff’s stance. “Well, Roy,” he started, taking on a much cheerier voice than his own. It was off-putting. “Richmond has been hit hard, but not as hard as their mascot Earl was a few months ago. Poor fuck–” He coughed, and recomposed himself. “Poor dog.”

“Well fucking said, Jeff,” you replied, but burst into giggles as soon as you did. “What do you reckon is the reason for their tie records on top of it, though? And what about that prick, Jamie fucking Tartt, sculking around the club after his stint in the reality TV game?”

Roy furrowed his brows at you quizzically. “Jamie fucking Tartt is trying to get signed to Richmond again?” he said, his normal voice cutting through. 

You waved him off. “I’ll tell you later. Keep going,” you said quickly, bringing it back to the game. 

Roy growled, and went back to his Jeff impression. “Well, it could be a number of things, Roy.” You smiled to yourself, elated just to be around him again. “Your retirement, for starters, has left the team utterly abandoned and in the dust.”

You perked your brow at him.“I’m not sure that’s entirely true, really–”

“They’re devastated by the loss,” Roy cut you off again, and you burst out a giggle. Roy swallowed away his amusement then, as he met your eye. “That, and the loss of their social placement was definitely a hard pill to swallow.” You froze as the words fell from his mouth. “I– inside sources– have told the press about how hard it’s been after she left. Her fanclub made up of Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes and Sam Obisanya haven’t been the same since her placement ended.”

You swallowed painfully, as Roy’s gaze stayed stuck on your own for a second too long. Neither of you looked away, but your heart swelled to twice the size beneath your ribcage. This fucking sucked– cutting yourself off from feeling all this– fucking sucked. But, you felt it was necessary. You didn’t want to lose Roy again– couldn’t– and this would ensure he stuck around. 

Still, as he looked at you with a softness reserved only for people he truly gave a shit about, you couldn’t help but give in just this once. 

You dropped the act, and reverted your voice to your own. “I seem to remember there being more people in the fanclub,” you said. “Who else hasn’t been the same, hm?” 

Roy leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs. You thought he’d tense up, or lean forward, but you knew that position was a sign that he was truly comfortable. Meanwhile, you were trying to hide the fact your fingers were shaking. 

“I can think of one more.” He shrugged. “Want a name?” 

“No,” you said instantly, abruptly, taking back everything you’d put out before. You recomposed yourself, and smiled as normally as you could. “I think I already have a good guess.”

Roy opened his mouth and sucked in a breath, before he nodded at you in understanding. It felt like a situation similar to that first night, after the charity ball, when you’d offered another time. Roy could easily count how many times you’d held yourself back from him. He didn’t know what to say to reassure you that this– you and him– was okay. He wasn’t one for being mushy, but he figured there was a reason as to why you hadn’t made it clear yet. 

So, he stayed put. He waited, and he wondered if you ever would, and if you never did– then that would be that. It wasn’t worth blurting out his feelings in a, no doubt, blunt and plain way if it meant risking this all. Seeing you, being around you, taking it on the chin everytime you scolded him when he deserved it. 

You were one of the only people out there that could tell him to fuck off. He liked it that way. 

As the two of you drove home, you stared out the window on the passenger side. Being around Roy always made you feel warm, but since he’d become a pundit, things had felt heavier. Thicker, tenser, like you’d be able to cut the atmosphere between you with a plastic butter knife. Maybe it was due to you setting yourself invisible boundaries, but something still made your stomach flip whenever he indulged. 

Innately, you told yourself to shake it off. If things stayed as they were with you both meant nothing would change, but you admitting your feelings to him would. It was still out of the question, but you had to be stronger around him. You sucked in a breath, and it cemented things in your brain. No longer would you crumble at his warm remarks, his soft stares, his playful behaviour. These were just things that Roy did with you, and hell, you enjoyed it platonically just as much as you would romantically– so what did it matter?

Roy pulled up outside your building, and you clicked off your seatbelt. You didn’t get out of the car, however, and placed your hands in your lap instead. “Thanks for–”

“What are you doing next Wednesday?” Roy cut over you. Your brain short circuited.

“Uh– finish work at five, like normal. Why?” 

“I’ve got Phoebe that night. We were going to grab a chinese and watch Ice Age. You in?” 

You smiled to oblivion. “I’d love to. Why Ice Age though?”

“Because she’s fucking seven, and I’m unashamed to say that film makes me cry every time.”

You scoffed abruptly, surprised. “Really?”

“Really,” Roy said seriously. “That baby is still fucking ugly though.” You laughed, and nodded in agreement. Roy tapped the steering wheel, expelling happy energy. He growled in approval. “Fruit Shoot pre drinks are at six, so you better not be late.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you said, before you opened your door and got out of the car. Roy rolled the window down when you hopped up on the pavement on his side, and stuck his elbow out like a trucker. 

“See you later,” he said, though not with his usual hostility and unbothered attitude. This was a see you later that had feeling behind it.

You swallowed bashfully. “See you.”

On Monday, Rebecca met you at Pluto Press. She strolled through the building with purpose, shoes clicking intently on the hardwood floors, until she loomed over your desk fiercely. “I’m here to see the best writer in the building,” she said.

You peered up at her and smiled profusely, before you shot up and gave her a colossal hug. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.” 

“Me too, darling,” she said, before pulling away. She kept her hands on your shoulders for good measure. “Come on. Pasta and wine won’t eat and drink itself.”

You liked getting dinner with Rebecca alone. She was an important figure to you, despite the previous way she’d felt about the club and people like you in general. She twisted her arm around your own as the two of you made your way out of Pluto Press, and you had to admit that you felt confident when in stride next to Rebecca. She was well-known, a prominent businesswoman, a strong person, and you were glad to have her in your life.

Especially, when she had gossip to spill.

“He’s called John. He treats me nice. He’s good looking and intelligent and everything good, but…” 

“But?” you questioned, feeling giddy during girl talk. 

“Well, after Rupert and all the other bozos I’ve been with, I want to make sure he is everything I think he is.”

“Ah, you want your friends’ approval, is that it?” 

Rebecca picked up her wine glass. “Absolutely, I do.” She sipped at the contents, before placing the glass back on the table. “I had an idea of a double date with you and Keeley pretending to be girlfriends.”

You scoffed abruptly. “We wouldn’t even need to pretend that much. I love her and she loves me.” 

“Exactly my thoughts! But, Keeley is away in fucking Edinburgh this weekend, so that’s a no go.”

You thought through your options. Who could you bring as a possible fake date to this double date situation if it wasn’t Keeley? You snapped your fingers. “Oh, I know— I could bring Ted!” 

Rebecca looked like you’d run over a child with Roy’s Jeep. “Absolutely fucking not.”

You recoiled. “Oh, come on. Who the fuck else then?”

“Just bring Roy!” Rebecca exclaimed. Your cheeks warmed intensely. 

“Oh, fuck off,” you spat out, bringing your wine glass to your lips and trying to ignore the way your gut had lurched.

Rebecca leaned towards you, a mischievous smile on her face. “Just imagine it. You and Roy already look and act like a fucking couple sometimes–” You swallowed your wine abruptly.

“No, we do not—”

“Yes, you do!” Rebecca said strongly. “But push that aside for just a moment, and this could be a good experiment.” 

You placed your glass down strongly, curiously. “Go on.”

“If he feels for you the way you feel for him, then this is a good way to show it. Might give you both some clarity, because Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t take this back and forth much longer.”

Your defences were on high. “There is no back and forth—”

“Yes, there is! When are you going to grab that fucking hairy man and just kiss him!” 

“Rebecca!” you exclaimed. There was subtle anger in both of your voices, but it was drowned out by the extreme hilarity of the entire situation.

Despite your eyes being wide and your brows being perked wildly, both you and Rebecca had small smiles plastered on your faces that only meant one thing— I love you and I love this. She understood you, and understood your concerns and feelings and all the like, but that didn’t stop her from wanting you to get out and emerge from this funk.

“Just… think about it?” she suggested.

You smiled at her warmly. “This is Roy we’re talking about. He probably wouldn’t even do it.”

“That’s a possibility, for sure. But it’s still worth asking, isn’t it?” 

You tapped your wine glass thoughtfully, before you nodded strongly. “You’re right. I’ll ask him, and if it means we can help you, then it’s worth the emotional embarrassment.”

Rebecca smiled back at you. “And who knows?” she said, with a twinkle in her eye. “It might be fun.”

You raced home from work on Wednesday, and knocked on Roy’s door quickly, a bit after six in the evening. You were late for Fruit Shoot pre drinks, but the tube was to blame. He opened the door strongly and laid a blunt stare in your face.

“You’re late,” he said. 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“The Fruit Shoots are almost gone,” he said, smiling just a little.

“Then let me in quickly so I can fucking have one!” you exclaimed playfully. Roy let you in, and you slipped off your shoes in record time.

Roy’s house was so familiar to you now. The atmosphere inside made you feel safe and comfortable, and always brought you back to past times when you’d been inside or passing by his road. He strolled in toe next to you as you made your way to the kitchen. There were a number of Fruit Shoots and some snacks on the island as you entered.

“Phoebe!” Roy called as you grabbed a drink, and the pitter patter of feet erupted from the living room and around the corner.

When Phoebe bound towards her uncle you could hardly contain how happy you felt. She was someone special to him, really special, and he’d chosen you to meet her. That must’ve meant you’d done something right, surely?

Phoebe stopped before her uncle, but peered at you in curiosity. “What is it, Uncle Roy?”

“I want you to meet someone,” he said, before the two turned back to you. He placed his hand on her head affectionately, before he met your eye. “Phoebe, this is my friend—”

“Are you the one that wrote that story about my Uncle Roy?” Phoebe cut over him, and you scoffed abruptly from how confident she was at only seven years old. 

You leaned down slightly. “Yes, I am. Has your Uncle Roy talked about me before?”

“All the time!” Phoebe exclaimed, and you peered up at him playfully. Roy growled, embarrassed at his niece spilling all his secrets. “He told me that you wrote a story about him in the newspaper,” she said.

“I did. Lots of people read it.”

“He also told me that he’s annoyed at you because you’re the only person that can tell him when he’s done something bad,” she said it so surely that it caught you off-guard. You scoffed as you straightened out, and shot a playful look at Roy. 

He looked thoroughly embarrassed. His jaw was clenched, and his shoulders were square, and you knew he wanted to yell or hide away in that moment. It only made you laugh even harder, as a few giggles trickled from your mouth. 

“I’m definitely not the only person who tells him off, but I might be the only one he listens to about it,” you said. “Come on, what else has he said about me?” you urged playfully. 

Roy stepped between you and Phoebe. “That’s fucking enough.”

Phoebe gasped suddenly, and your eyes widened. “That’s a bad word, Uncle Roy!”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said, as if he’d apologised for the same thing a thousand times. He probably had. 

“You owe the swear jar a pound!” Phoebe pointed at Roy threateningly, chastising him. 

Roy messed up her bright blonde hair affectionately. “Add it to the rest of the bill.”

After a huge chinese dinner, where you all opened fortune cookies and laughed at the fact Roy got life will get better, just wait in his own, the three of you sat in the living room. Phoebe and you sat on the plush rug in front of the sofa, while Roy took the sofa. He crossed his arms for the duration of Ice Age, staying quiet as you and Phoebe bonded over how funny Sid the sloth was. 

When the baby came on screen, you grimaced immediately. You’d forgotten just how ugly it was. Roy was absolutely right. You twisted yourself around to meet his eye, and furrowed your brows. “You’re right. It’s still so ugly.”

“Told you,” he said, before you turned back around to the TV. Phoebe jumped up onto your lap as you did, and you snuggled her close to your chest as the film continued. 

Behind you, Roy was twitching. Despite only seeing the tops of your heads, and the shake of your shoulders when you laughed, there was something brewing within him when seeing you with his niece. He didn’t often introduce people he knew to her, because of the impact it would have on her when those people could inevitably leave. It had happened with her piece of shit father, and from that moment, Roy had started involving himself even more– just to give his sister a break, just because he loved his family so fucking much. 

Seeing you with her, getting on so well in this way, made him swallow away his deepest wants. In a perfect world, he would have made his way down beside you both on the floor. You would have leaned into him, sharing the weight of the child in your lap, and he would have draped his arm over your shoulder and held you close– but no. 

Roy inhaled a laboured breath, and forced himself to focus on the screen for the rest of the film; knuckles white, body tensed, trying and failing not to feel everything. 

Phoebe was fast asleep by the time the credits rolled. You held her in your arms as Roy got up and switched off the TV, before turning back to you both. You glanced down at Phoebe’s dreaming face as you frowned awkwardly. Roy’s expression was somewhere between stoic and glowing. His jaw clenched when you peered up at him in subtle pleading. 

“What do I do?” you whispered. 

“Fuck all. You’re stuck like that until she wakes up,” he replied, crossing his arms. You gulped away your nerves, looking back at Phoebe in your arms. Roy took his opportunity to smile without you seeing. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you whispered harshly, but you inwardly accepted your fate. You peered back at Roy, and his face flattened. “So, are you just going to stand there?” He shrugged. “Roy!” you whispered strongly. 

That was enough for him to finally crumble. His hard expression faltered and was replaced with the smallest of smiles. He dropped his arms to his sides as he started towards you. “I’m fucking kidding,” he whispered deeply, as he knelt before you. “I’ve got her.”

You would have looked away as Roy picked up his niece if you had the chance. He was soft, and gentle, as he slotted his hands beneath her and hoisted her from your lap easily. He draped her over his shoulder with such care, as her cheek squished sleepily against his shoulder. His hand found her back and stayed there warmly. 

“I’ll tuck her in,” he said, before making his way out of the room and up the stairs.

You stayed put after he left, cleaning up the snacks from the coffee table and straightening out the sofa cushions just from habit. You chucked away empty crisp packets and yoghurt pots, and threw some finished Fruit Shoot bottles in the recycling bin. It was comforting as you familiarly navigated all the cupboards and drawers in Roy’s kitchen. You knew your way around his house very well, and often found yourself jealous of the space. It’s not that you didn’t like your apartment– of course, you did– but Roy’s house was proper. 

It was funny. Without trying at all, you were able to slot yourself alongside Roy here. Living alongside each other, cooking dinners, drinking beers on his back patio, watching shitty movies on the sofa. You slammed another Fruit Shoot bottle in the recycling as a way to snap yourself out of it. No good came from imagining more between you and Roy, especially after everything that had already occurred. 

You let out an angry huff at yourself as you leant upon the kitchen island, looking out towards the dining table. You wracked your fingers through your hair, as your eyes settled upon his bookshelf in all its glory. You enjoyed looking at it, no matter how many times you’d already scoured the overflowing shelves. Squinting, you gently approached the dining table as your eye hit upon something new; something that hadn’t been there previously.

On the middle shelf, right between cards from Phoebe and Roy’s sister, your article had been framed and placed for all to see. At the top, next to the title, was that classic picture of Roy from the first game of football you’d ever seen. His foot was on the ball, his stare hard, his hair trimmed in that robotic way that he’d used to do. 

You couldn’t believe he’d kept it, and framed it, and put it up– all of it. It made your heart thump incessantly in your chest. It made the logical side of your brain completely disappear; the side that told you not to jump, that held you back, that told you not to complicate things. 

“You noticed it, hm?” Roy said suddenly, appearing in the kitchen as you stayed glued in front of the dining table. 

You turned to him, wide-eyed and full of love. “You kept it?”

“‘Course I did,” he said, walking towards you slowly. “It was your big break, and the nicest thing ever fucking written about me. Why wouldn’t I keep it?”

“I don’t know, I just–” you started, but chose to stop part way through. You settled, and smiled. “It’s nice that you did.”

Roy nodded, and growled subtly. Silence trickled over you both, as the obvious tension between you was cemented even further. This always happened when you were alone, together, looking at one another like you were memorising the lines on each other’s faces. 

“Fancy a drink?” Roy asked coarsely. He had to cough slightly to stop his voice from breaking. 

You breathed out deeply. “Yes. Please. Yes please.” You found your voice again, and the tension dissipated slightly as he headed towards the fridge.

You sunk into one of the chairs at the dining table, watching closely as Roy opened the fridge and grabbed two green bottles of beer. It was nice that you didn’t have to say what it was you wanted, didn’t have to even direct, he just knew. He knew you, and you knew him just as well. He popped the tops off both bottles, before sitting down opposite you. He slid you a beer, and your fingers touched his own as he made the pass. It went unsaid, and you ignored your heart in your chest. 

The two of you sipped at your drinks in unison, transcending into a different realm of awkward (and) or sexual tension. It was always this way, this feeling. You’d grown so used to it from being so exposed to being watched, analysed, affectionately stared at, by Roy’s gaze, that you didn’t bat an eye when you looked at him– only to find him already staring at you. 

You squinted at him playfully. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. 

You raised your drink to your lips. “Fine.” You drank, and let his lingering eyes watch as you gulped back more beer. As you placed your bottle down, you smiled. “Thank you for letting me meet Phoebe.”

“It was about time,” he said, leaning forward. “Like she said– I apparently don’t shut the fuck up about you.” He smiled smally, before the two of your drank in unison, just to fill the happy silence. 

You thought of Rebecca then. Of her strong jaw and broad shoulders and confident strides. If it’d been her, she would have taken matters into her own hands a long time ago. Before Roy’s retirement, before the article, she would have launched herself into this all strongly from the moment he’d invited you for a drink after the charity ball. 

As Rebecca’s gorgeous face shone behind your eyelids, you remebered your lunch. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered suddenly, as you recalled her double date situation. 

“What?” Roy questioned. 

“Well,” you started. You leaned forward to bridge the gap between you, and innately psyched yourself up to broach this idea to him. You couldn’t believe what you were about to ask of him. “Rebecca is seeing a man– John.”

“John,” Roy repeated. 

“And, well,” you said, stalling for time. You grimaced, just for lack of how to even get it all out. “She… well, she–”

“Are you having a fucking stroke or something?” Roy asked, before he slammed his hand over your forehead abruptly, searching for a fever. 

You burst out laughing as soon as he did, and swatted away his fingers. “Jesus Christ, I’m fine!” you exclaimed. 

Roy removed his hand from your head. “Then get to the fucking point!”

“Okay!” you exclaimed, getting worked up. “Rebecca is seeing this man, and she wants her friends’ approval to be sure he’s not a fucking weirdo.” You sucked in a deep breath, and reworded your entire question until it wasn’t one anymore. “You’re going to pretend to be my partner, so we can judge if this guy is a psycho or not.” After you blurted it out, you half expected Roy to scoff. Surely he wouldn’t say yes, surely he would protest, and whine, and sulk, and everything else that his thirty-six year old arse would do when forced into this kind of situation. 

Instead, he stayed still. He stayed calm, and his express didn’t falter. “When is it?” Roy asked. 

“This weekend.”

“Okay,” he said. 

“Okay?” You stared at him, utterly boggled. 

Roy furrowed his brows, as if saying yes was the most obvious answer of all. “Who else would you fucking take? Fucking Ted?” 

You chose not to tell him of your first choice, or of Rebecca’s obvious dislike of the idea. You leaned back in your chair and took a surprised gulp of beer, before clutching the bottle to your chest. “I can’t wrap my head around why you’re fine about this,” you said honestly. “Are you having a fucking stroke?” 

Quickly, you reached your hand out and laid it upon Roy’s forehead, mimicking his earlier behaviour. You thought he’d push you off, or laugh, or copy the way you reacted. When he gently leant into your touch, you froze. 

“I feel just fine,” he said lowly, his stare glued on yours. Gently, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, and you dropped your palm from his head. Quickly, Roy shuffled his hand so his thumb hit your pulse point. “Are you alright?”

You felt your heart rate accelerate, which meant Roy felt it, too. 

Quickly, you pried your hand out of his grasp, but not before your fingers swiped over each other’s. You moved your hand to your lap, just to avoid staring at it as your mind raced. 

“I’m fine,” you said, despite the fact it was an obvious lie. That’s when Roy’s lips curled into a small smile. “But– great. This is great.” You tried to redirect the conversation to the double date, tried to keep things professional. “Rebecca gets the answers she wants, we get a free meal, and I get to dress in something other than the same five outfits I wear at work every week… but,” you said, tapping your glass anxiously. “We have to pretend to be a couple.”

Roy shrugged. “We’ll live.” He wasn’t ready to admit to you that he knew it would be easy. Maybe you might make it harder, but if all Roy had to do to be convincing was occasionally hold your hand, or sit close to you, or bicker like an old married couple, then he was already there.

You squinted at him, still confused. “You’re seriously okay with this?”

Roy shrugged again, but it was only with the sole intention to have you roll your eyes at him. He succeeded. 

As Saturday approached, it properly dawned on you what was about to happen. You and Roy had to pretend to be together, while simultaneously navigating not just Rebecca, but her newest man, as well. You found yourself wishing that Keeley wasn’t away, but that definitely would have been the easy way out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go on a fake double date Roy fucking Kent– that in itself was something that (ashamedly so) made you so fucking excited that it was miracle you’d been able to contain it for the remaining days before the weekend. It wasn’t about the possible awkwardness that you could both feel at having to be noticeably affectionate, or the fumbling fingers that you would both have during those first few tries.

It was about the aftermath. 

It was about the possible shift that could happen as a result of this little charade. It was about the marathon you were already running to keep at bay every single feeling you had for Roy (and the ones he held for you that you had no clue about). It was about being able to leave that table at that restaurant still knowing that everything would be normal and unchanged and not fucking complicated.

That’s what you focused on for the rest of the week, and when Saturday morning turned to afternoon, and when that afternoon turned to early evening, you felt stronger. As you got ready to go into this shitstorm, you were determined not to let all hell break loose. 

Just down the road, Roy pulled a black t-shirt over his head. He paired it with black jeans, the usual, but opted to spray his most expensive cologne over the top— not the usual. It was true that he was excited about this. Just the opportunity to make you blush was enough to make him smile, and after he felt the upbeat pitter patter of your pulse he was beginning to doubt that you harboured no romantic feelings for him. 

Either way, no matter the outcome, he was going to grab hold of this situation by the throat. It was funny; being given the opportunity to be close to you, to imagine being together, and all the rest; but even just being allowed to pretend and put on a show for one evening made him feel satisfied.

Innately, though, he told himself not to go overboard. As much as your pulse had betrayed you, he wasn’t about to put you in an uncomfortable situation for the sake of it. Roy was almost a decade older than you, he harboured experience galore— what with being an ex-star footballer— but he still knew you weren’t the time to fuck around.

He glanced at his watch; he had a little under an hour before he was due to pick you up. This evening was certainly going to be one he’d remember for a while, even if he ended up wanting to fucking forget all about it by the end. 

Roy’s Jeep pulled up outside your flat. You heard it from your living room window, and quickly slung a small bag over your shoulder before leaving through your door. Roy cut off the engine before he jumped from the driver’s seat. As he rounded his car, the squeak of your building door sounded. He peered up, and what met his gaze was only the first step of his night fully starting. 

As you shut the door behind you, your dress blew up to just past your knees. Compared with the charity ball, you’d opted to wear a jacket over it in this cold, which almost made Roy laugh to himself. You descended the steps as he took a relaxed stance by the passenger side door, and when you finally glanced his way, he was already looking at you. This was a running theme, you thought, catching Roy’s eye, only to find him already looking at you gently. 

“Hey,” you said, slightly breathlessly from the cold but also from him. You trickled your gaze over his body. He wore nothing different than normal, his usual combo of black on black, but this time it felt different. It was oddly reminiscent of the night of the charity ball, a year ago now, but with a slight twist.

You felt older, you knew each other better, and that unspoken tension hadn’t cropped up until later that fateful night. Now, everything was different. But in the best way. 

“Hey,” Roy said lowly, his voice gravelly. “Ready to go?”

You nodded sweetly, smiling at him as you stood face to face. You inhaled, and as you did, his cologne hit your nose. You had to ignore how fucking good he smelled, even more so when you both clambered into the car.

A few minutes into the journey, Roy cleared his throat. “So,” he started, and you sensed some trepidation in his tone that made you look at him slyly. “This double date thing… how far are we taking it?”

Abruptly, you choked on your own spit. You coughed loudly and turned towards the window, until the tickle in your throat finally ceased. “What?” you croaked, panicking. Roy smiled to himself quickly, before he clenched his jaw forcefully. 

“This guy, Jim, or whatever. He thinks we’re an item, right?” Roy continued. 

You furrowed your brows at him curiously. “Yes.”

“So, how far are we taking this fake relationship shit?” Roy asked again. 

Your heart plummeted into your stomach. “I don’t fucking know.” You tried to act casual and unbothered. It was fucking difficult. “Far enough for it to be believable, I guess.”

“So,” Roy said. “Can I hold your hand?” 

You swallowed. “Yeah, obviously.” You kept your eyes ahead of you, but could feel Roy’s stare hit your profile every few seconds, only when he wasn’t looking at the road. 

“Okay,” he said. “Can I touch your waist, or– I don’t know– your thigh under the table, or some shit?” Roy attempted to lace stoicism within his words. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but he also wanted to know what he could and couldn’t do. Just for clarity, just so you were on the same page. 

You glanced out the window, looking away from him. You didn’t want him to see the warmth that had appeared on your cheeks. It was a miracle he couldn’t hear the butterfly wings that ravaged your stomach. “I don’t see why not.”

“Alright, fine,” Roy said, clearing his throat afterwards. His knuckles had turned white on the steering wheel. 

You sucked in a deep breath, but all it did was remind you of his cologne. “Anything else?” you asked assumptively, tensing yourself involuntarily. 

Roy stopped the car at a red light. “Yeah,” he said sharply, turning to you strongly. You turned to look at him, too, catching his eye with as much confidence you could muster. “Can I kiss you?” 

You stopped breathing. The urge to look at Roy’s lips was unavoidable. You wanted to stay calm, to stay cool, to stay composed, so your initially thought answer of yes, God, yes had to be contained on this occasion. You’d spent three days internally preparing yourself for this, but as soon as Roy started asking his questions your walls practically crumbled. His prying had a feeling behind it, intent, and you knew Roy well enough by now to know that he wouldn’t ask these things lightly. That was the first hurdle to jump over. 

The next– the way he was looking at you made you want to abandon your evening with Rebecca and John altogether. If it were up to you, you’d tell him to pull over the car on any desolate street he could find, just so you could finally give in to this silly crush. It was obvious this wasn’t just you anymore, that this small unspoken thing had developed further inside both of you, until it had left you in this fucking situation. 

A fake date, with real feelings. What a fucking nightmare. 

“I–” you started, but couldn’t get another word out as Roy’s gaze darted to your lips and back. 

Oh, the fucking bastard. He was good, really good, and he knew it, too. Was this what he did with the Spice Girls? Because it was fucking working. It was enough to make you want to spill everything, to not hold back any longer. 

“Roy.” You breathed out. 

He looked at you so softly. “Yeah?” he said lowly. 

“I need to tell you something–”

The shrill boom of a car horn from behind made you gasp. Roy twisted himself abruptly to the windshield, and the light that once was red was now green again. The car honked its horn once more, and Roy let out a growl. “I’m going, you fucking twat!” he yelled, before smashing his foot down on the accelerator. 

And just like that, the conversation had to take another back seat. You still had parts to play, and hearts to bear, and lots and lots of wine to fucking drink. 

CHAPTER TWELVE

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl @royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff @ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming @toomany24s @kashee-h@infinetlyforgotten @secretnook @cluelesslilsharkie @callmecasey81 @deepdarkvelvet @twiceinabluemoon @cardeegans @golden-hoax @kingleahhh @hoalkk1 @sunderland-6 @ellouisa17 @thesestrangerslikeme @elissaaa @scrumptiousroadponymoney @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @ysmmsy @seacactusplant @pedritosgirl2000 @loveslide @ryleyrooroo @hanybunch @tweasley20 @witchyanya-7 @sareim123122 @jaymum @lwritesstuff 

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter 17 I It's Been A Long Time Coming

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football prodigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Chapter Summary: The final chapter. Read the end note for more.

Word Count: 5.3K

Warning: The most canon divergent I get (roykeeley endgame forever), a little more self-indulgent than usual, some more heated content but nothing smutty, I'm just sad y'all

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve 13 14 15 16

Change was in the air. A lot of things were changing. There was a lot of good change. Nate was back! He was just working with Will right now, but I could already tell he was different from how he left. He apologized to me for all the nasty things he had said and done. I was a little wary at first, but Jamie reminded me that I’d given him a second chance and Nate deserved one too.

Another good change was that Roy and Keeley had officially gotten back together. Much to the relief of everyone else in the club who couldn’t bear to see them apart. It was nice to have another couple around our age to go out with. We already had a double date set up for the week after the last game.

Then, of course, there was some not so good change. When Ted told Roy and I that he and Beard would be leaving at the end of the season, I almost passed out. My personal plans aside, I’d never done this without him, and I didn’t know if I wanted to.  But Ted assured both of us that the club was in good hands with the two of us.  Many tears were shed and that was before we told the team.

Roy and I went out alone that night. I told Jamie that we had some stuff to plan but really, the two of us just needed to be with each other.

            “What was Ted going on about?” Roy asked, taking a long sip of his beer. “About not letting his decision get in the way of any plans we might have?”

I shrugged, playing with my cocktail, trying to be inconspicuous. But, as usual, Roy could see right through me.

            “I haven’t figured out all the details,” I said, finally. “But… yeah… something’s planned, a bit.”

I expected him to be cross with me for leaving him to deal with the changes alone, but he wasn’t. He just lifted his glass towards me.

            “To big fucking changes,” he offered.

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. “To big fucking changes.”

            “And you know,” he stopped me before I could take a sip. “We’re always here for you. Not just me, the whole fucking team would die for you.” It was very sweet. Roy being vulnerable with me for a second. “Don’t go getting all… fucking… emotional on me, (Y/N).”

            “You know what this means, Roy.”

            “We are not fucking, hugging.”

            “Oh, yes we are.”

I when I got home that night, Jamie was there waiting for me. We always ended up at each other’s houses somehow or another though we promised we wouldn’t move in together until after the end of the season. But there he was waiting for me anyways, washing dishes in the kitchen.

            “Hey, babe, how was grandad?” he asked, finishing up the plate he was washing.

I smiled at it, at the domestic nature of the act, at the thought of walking home to Jamie every day for the rest of my life. I walked up and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his back.

            “Was good,” I answered, rubbing my head on his skin.

            “Now who’s acting like a cat?” He rumbled, smirking as he looked back at you.

I hummed a giggle, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade before letting go again. I leaned against the island and waited for him to finished up. He threw the dish towel over his shoulder as he turned to look at me.

            “What?” Jamie questioned, smirking.

            “What?” I returned.

            “You got a funny look on your face,” he told me, reaching out to pinch my cheek. “Look all spacey.”

I batted his hand away, shaking my head. “No… it’s just,” I rubbed at my chin. “There’s a lot of change happening right now… isn’t there.” Jamie cocked his head at me, motioning for me to continue. “Well… Ted and Beard are leaving, Nate’s back, Roy and Keeley are back together – which is great – but… it’s just a lot.”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah… it is. Was there anything else… that was changing… that you might want to tell me?”

Jamie had come to know me very well. Too well for my comfort sometimes. He could tell there was something going on in my head, something I wasn’t telling him. But that was something I still didn’t want to share quite yet, wasn’t ready to share.

            “No, I’m just same old me,” I grinned, stepping forward to slot myself between his legs. His mouth dropped into that lazy smile that drove me mad. I took a shaky breath and nodded at him.  “And we… we’re not changing? Yeah?”

            “I don’t plan on changing a thing,” He quipped, wrapping his arms low around my hips. “That is… unless we’re changing the amount of clothes you’re wearing.” He tugged at my pants slightly, drawing a laugh from me. Safe to say, no matter what else changed, we would be okay.

The final day of training came and went. The boys put on their show for Ted and Beard, who loved it, of course. There was so much movement happening all around the locker room. I sat in the crook of Jamie’s leg that he kept propped up on the bench as we chatted with Cockburn and Dixon when Keeley walked in with her usual cheerful greeting.

I took a moment to look around the room. At the team, and the coaches, and the people, walking in and out. It felt so different. So different from the locker room I’d seen three years ago. It felt much more alive and warmer, inviting people to come join the family. I felt a pang of nostalgia for it already, and there I was, sitting in the moment.

It felt like the end of something. It was the end of the season sure, but it was more than that. With Ted leaving and the future so unsure, it was really the end of an era at Richmond. The Lasso era was ending. And I missed it already.

Jamie and Roy went out that night for a drink. Jamie was practically bouncing, excited that Roy had invited him out and was going to allow him to drink a single beer. So, I took the opportunity to go to Keeley’s to discuss my plans with her.

I arrived at Keeley’s doorstep that night. If anyone would be able to help me figure out the logistics of this, it’d be her. I hadn’t told anyone else about this idea, just Ted and the very vague conversation I’d had with Jamie.

            “(Y/N)!” Keeley squeal when she opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

            “Hi Keeley,” I greeted, smiling. “I had something I wanted to talk to you about.”

It didn’t take long, only about an hour of chatting for us to figure out how to go about the plan. Keeley had been so excited, jumping on board immediately, grabbing her notebook to jot down some notes and start sketching some logo ideas.

            “Do you think Rebecca will go for it?” I asked, nervously.

            “Go for it? She’ll love it!” Keeley enthused. She sipped on her wine. “Is this why you’ve been so weird at training and such. Cause it’s not just Ted and Beard leaving?”

            “Acting weird?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Is that way Roy said?”

Keeley smirked. “Said you were plotting something.”

            “Yeah, his death for starters,” I laughed, grinning. Keeley let out a cackle that only she could make. Our laughter was interrupted by a knock on the door. I looked at the clock, it was late, later than a random passerby. “Did you order food?”

            “No, I thought you did,” Keeley shrugged, scooting her chair back.

At the door was Roy and Jamie, and from the looks of it, they’d been in some sort of scuffle.

            “My word, what’s happen to you two?” I cried as Keeley opened the door.

Jamie’s nose was bleeding, his head tilted back slightly as he pinched the bridge and Roy’s shirt had been nearly torn off. They had other bumps and bruises across their bodies, and I honestly couldn’t believe it.  We finally sat them down at Keeley’s table, Keeley and I sat next to each other facing Roy and Jamie.

            “All right, are you gonna tell us what happened?” Keeley asked, handing Roy an ice pack. I handed Jamie a fresh tissue, wiping his face with my thumb, even as he tried to duck away from me.

            “Better be a cool story, or else this is just sad,” I echoed, pulling back from Jamie finally.

Jamie looked over at Roy who shrugged, gesturing for Jamie to start.

            “We got in a fight,” Jamie started.

            “About the two of you,” Roy finished.

Keeley and I looked at each other a bit incredulous before replying in unison. “Why!?”

            “Well, we was just talking about the trip to Brazil coming up that the four of us are going on, and I was saying how great Keeley was at her job,” Roy explained, smiling at Keeley.

            “And I was saying how you’re fantastic at your job, too, (Y/N),” Jamie followed up quickly. “How you had improved the team so much this season, the lads really respect you.”

Roy shook his head and turned to look at Jamie. “And I was saying how, of course, I thought you were good at your job, but Keeley runs her own PR firm, she’s fucking next level.”

Jamie growled and turned to face Roy. “But (Y/N) is the first female coach in the whole premier league, and she’s the only Captain from the Imperial girls’ team to win three straight championships.”

Roy leaned forward to get in Jamie’s face. “But Keeley is who makes (Y/N) look good. Keeley makes all of us look good.:

Jamie matches him immediately. “But (Y/N) makes sure there is good stuff to make look good.”

            “Oh my GOD!” I shout out, slamming my hands on the table. Roy and Jamie flinch away from each other. “Did you really get in a fist fight to try and prove which one of us was better?” I pointed between Keeley and myself.

The boys shrugged, answering me without saying a word.

            “Are you joking?” Keeley reared. “Like are you seriously joking?”

She and I looked at each other. Without another word, we kicked the boys out and returned to our wine night.

I returned home later that night to find Jamie on the couch, munching on a chicken kebab, his nose stuffed with tissues. I shook my head as I came down to sit next to him.

            “You are ridiculous, you know that?” I chuckled, taking the kebab from him. He let out a grunt of protest but didn’t stop me from taking a bite.

            “Oi, I had to wrestle Roy for that one,” he settled me into his side, his arm wrapping around me.

            “Oh, I didn’t know it was WrestleMania tonight,” I gaped shaking my head. I brought a hand up and mussed his hair. “What were you thinking? Getting in a fight with Roy.”

            “I was defending your honor,” He defended, grabbing my hand to pull it away from his head. “Don’t see the harm in it, just guys being dudes.”

I almost choked on my kebab. “Guys being dudes? You really have lots it.”

He smiled and pulled me into him, turning the TV on. I leaned back against his shoulder, staring at the screen, chewing on the latter half of his kebab. Now was the time.

            “Jamie, I’m quitting coaching.”

            “What?” He flew up from his seat, knocking me to the side. “What’re you doing that for? Is it Nate? Did he say something? Or Roy? I’ll kill them both!”

“No! No, Jamie listen.” I grabbed his hands, coaxing him to sit back down. “It’s not anyone else… it’s me. It’s what I’ve been… planning.”

Jamie frowned, his eyes looking into mine for answers. “You’re not gonna coach me anymore?”

I felt my heart break just a little at his pitiful tone. I brought my hand up to his face, holding his neck in my grasp. 

            “No, Jamie… I’m not. I’m not going to coach anyone,” I started to explain. “See, what I realized, the part of coaching I’m good at is the playing bit. Understanding the players and how they think. It helped Ted a lot but… I’m not a coach. I’m a player.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “You want to play? You’re gonna join a women’s team?”

            “Yeah?” I worried my bottom lip as he processed. Why was I afraid? Was he going to disapprove, god was this like with Matt all over again? “Is that okay?”

            “Okay?” His eyes lit up so bright. “That’s amazing.”

He lifted me up, spinning me around in his arms. I held on tightly, afraid to fall, even though Jamie would never let me fall. He placed me down in front of him, gripping my waist.

            “How fucking amazing is it that we’ll be the two best players in our leagues,” He mused, grinning widely. “Who you going to play for? I ‘spose Arsenal’s the closest for the women’s or Reading but you can do better than Reading.”

            “You’re assuming I’ll get to pick!” I laughed.

He made a pursed his lips and shrugged. “Obviously, they’ll all be after you, won’t they.”

            “Well, uh, the thing is, actually,” I looked down, playing with the hem of his shirt to distract myself. “That’s what I was talking to Keely about. I’m gonna convince Rebecca to start a women’s team at Richmond.”

Again, Jamie processed. Then he lifted me up again, twirling me around, cackling like mad.

            “You’re brilliant, you are, you know that?” He kisses me then, passionately in a way I’d never felt before. My breath gets pushed out of me as my hands flail to hold on to him. He kisses me again, slowly, before pulling back. “I love you.”

I look at him, wide-eyed, panting. “I love you, too.”

He smiled at me smugly, knowing exactly the effect he was having on me. He reached down and lifted me up over his shoulder, carrying me off towards the bedroom.

            “Jamie!” I cried happily, banging on his back. “Put me down!”

            “Oh, I’ll put you down,” he sneered, plopping me down onto the mattress. He crawled over my body, anticipation growing with in me as I propped myself up onto my elbows. He took his time reaching me, his lips ghosting over my skin. Up my chest, my neck, until they hovered over my lips, just out of reach of mine. “My girl…”

He kissed my cheek, nose nudging mine like he liked to do. I tried to press up and kiss him, but he pulled back, what a tease.

            “Jamie,” I frowned, whining. I pulled on his shirt, trying to pull him closer to me.

            “Hold on, sweetheart,” he murmured, pushing me down so I was flat on the bed. “I just wanna look at ya.” His hand travelled down my body before coming back up to rest on my cheek, stroking my skin with his thumb. “You’re amazing.”

I felt so soft under his praise, under his touch as he admired me. But it wasn’t just my body he was admiring it, it was me. All of me. And when he finally kissed me, it felt like the sun was filling my body with its warmth.

The day of the final game came, West Ham, again.  This time under George Cartwick, the bastard. But I didn’t feel more normal anxiety about such an important game. Yeah, this game could solidify our ranking within the league, but I didn’t feel too worried. Win or lose, we’d shown the whole country exactly what we could do.

I carried the box from Zava in my grasp, using my legs to readjust my grip as I waved to Laughing Liam.

            “Hello, lads,” I greeted as I walked into the locker room. The room erupted in a choral of hellos and greetings.

            “What’ve you got there?” Colin asked, coming over to help me set the box down.

I dusted my hands off, starting to open it up. “It’s a care package from, Zava.”

The locker room groaned, and I smirked, sneaking a glance at Jamie who seemed quite pleased with the response.

            No,” Dani spoke up from behind me, quite firm. “Thank you, but no. I will not let him hurt me again.”

            “Ooh, it’s t-shirts!” Will smiled, reaching across me to get one.

            “Can I have two, please?” Dani decided.

I shook my head, moving away from the box to reach out for Jamie. He pulled me towards him, chuckling at the antics, wrapping his arms around me to pull my back against his chest, my hands crossing in front of my body as I held onto him.

            “Oh, oh!” Colin exclaimed. “There’s a card.” He reached in and grabbed a card out of it. “’My brothers.’” The boys laughed. “’Good luck against West Ham. Please enjoy the T-shirts and this avocado from my farm. Never forget, I am always inside you, Zava.’”

            “What, he sent us one avocado?” Jamie questioned, his lips right by my ear.

Bumbercatch lifted the avocado from box and held it up so we could all see it. It was giant. I felt Jamie freeze in surprise.

            “Holeh guacamoleh,” he shuttered out. “Show me that, bro.”

He let go of me to grab the avocado, staring at it in awe. I laughed, shaking my head.

The beginning of the game was a little rocky, probably due to the video that Beard had made, sending the whole team into a sobbing frenzy. The first half quarter was a stalemate, but Jamie was keeping them on their toes, controlling the field with his excellent strategic passes. Nevertheless, Westham managed to score, twice before the half.

The boys were buzzing during the half, talking and strategizing with one another. It was a stark difference from the team I started with. That team would be silent, brooding, angry about what was going wrong. But this team still had hope, they still had believe.

Ted emerged from his den to address the team.

            “Well, fellas, we got our work cut out for us in the second half. But you know, I’ll get to all that in a minute.” I went over to my spot next to Roy, crossing my arms as I looked over the group.

“No, uh, right now, all I wanna do is let you gentlemen know what an absolute honor it's been to be your coach. Getting to work with y'all these last three years has truly been one of the greatest experiences of my life. I've loved getting to know each and every single one of you. Learning all about the men you were and getting a front-row seat to see the men… and women you all have become “

He looked over at me and I nodded, swallowing a thick ball of sadness in my throat.

“A-And I wanna thank you for your patience with me. You know, when I showed up here, I didn't know one thing about soccer. But now... Well, now I know at least one thing about football.”

We let out a chuckle, though it was well watery I could tell. He continued.

“I'm just so gosh damn proud to be a part of this team. You know? And I love you guys. I'm gonna miss y'all." My heart swelled. I didn't want to say goodbye. I swiped at a tear that had escaped my eyes.

"Now, regarding this second half... Yeah, I don't know what's gonna happen. You know what I mean? No one does. Sports would be a lot less fun if we did. You know? And you all would probably make a lot less money, so... You know?  We don't wanna know the future. No, no, we wanna be here right now. And look, I-I know we're down a couple goals. But I'm telling you, man, if y'all play hard, play smart, play together and just, you know... Just do what y'all do, and we'll go out with the peace of mind knowing we did our best. That we tried. Yeah?”

            “Yes, coach.”

            “Hm. All right. Anybody else have something to say?”

            “Coach.” Sam spoke up.

            “Yeah, Sam, what you got?”

Sam stood up and grabbed something from his locker, pulling out a small piece of yellow paper. Then Jamie stood up, pulling out a book from his locker that had a similar yellow piece of paper sticking out of it. Soon the whole team was grabbing things from their lockers and pulling out their own yellow pieces.

I sighed and reached into my pocket and found my wallet. I had a polaroid of Jamie and I, sitting at Sam’s restaurant, and taped on the back was my own piece of yellow paper. I held it up and walked over to where the boys were placing their pieces.

Soon there was a clutter of pieces all mixed up. The boys stared at it a second, wondering what was wrong with it. Then they moved into action, putting it back together like a puzzle. I smiled at Roy who shook his head and chuckled.

Finally, the sign was back together. The torn up believe sign put back together by the team that made it a reality. I’d missed the sign. Missed it more than I knew.

            “And there it is,” Ted mused, smiling at it. “Number four. Yeah?”

The fourth rule of total football. Believe. Believing in this team and the people in it. Believing in change and love and friendship. Believing in the fact that victory was within our grasp. Believe was filling this room. Starting from when Ted first stepped foot in the locker, infecting the place with his positivity. Now the room, and the whole stadium was filled with it, so even when he was gone, we’d keep it going. Believe.

            “Alright, let’s bring it in.”

We walked in together, Jamie standing right behind me so he could keep one hand on my hip while the other went in for the huddle.

            “I know they folks like to say, ‘there’s no place like home,’” Ted looked around the circle, at our team. “That’s true. You know. But man, there ain’t a whole lot of places like AFC Richmond either.” I let out a shaky laugh, the team following in suit. He addressed Isaac. “Richmond on three. One, two, three…”

            “RICHMOND.”

The second half feels more electric than before. More shots on the goal, with only one getting in from Jamie. The stadium erupted in cheers as Jamie scored, giving the crowd a shred of hope for Richmond’s chances.

Jamie gets in again losing his mark and heading for a second goal when he’s tackled. It’s a weak tackle and Jamie certainly played it up but it got us our penalty.

            “That’s it,” I muttered, nodding at Ted.

It took a second, Jamie passing the ball over to Dani who then passed it to… Isaac.

            “Oh, what the fuck,” I grunted, rolling my eyes. I loved Isaac, I really did, but I was certain he’d never even made a penalty before.

Isaac went for the shot, and it flew into the stands, causing a groan to go across the field. It wasn’t the end of the world but equalizing certainly would have been helpful. But then the referee went back to look at the net before turning around and signaling a goal.

I laughed and let out a cheer, patting Roy’s shoulder.

            “Who fucking knew,” I gaped.

            “Apparently, Dani,” Roy answered.

This wasn’t the end; we still had another goal to get but victory was just in reach. The game came to a halt as the grounds crew came out to fix the goal. Jamie jogged over to me, an excited look on his face.

            “How mint was that, eh, babe?” He asked, excitedly.

I shook my head handing him a water bottle.  “You could have made that easily.”

            “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” He grinned, downing the water.

As he did, I noticed Rupert on the field. Yes, Rupert Manion, as in the owner of West Ham, walking on the field like a villain from a Bond movie.

            “What the hell is he doing here?” Jamie snorted, watching the man.

            “Don’t know…” I murmured back. “But I’m going to find out, cover for me?”

Jamie nodded at me, turning back to the coaches, as I tried to wander over inconspicuously I made it seem like I was going to fill up my water bottle, trying to get within ear shot of whatever conversation they were having.

            “Tartt is out there doing whatever he fucking wants.” Rupert growled.

Oh. I see.

            “Yeah, but I’ve got two players on him already,” Cartwick responded. He looked terrified, and Rupert pressed further.

            “Take him out.” I stiffened, looking that way, as subtly as possible. No way he was implying what I thought he was.

            “Are you joking?” Cartwick retorted.

I looked back towards Jamie. If anyone got near him, I would kill them. I’d kill them with my bare hands.

            “Get rid of him.”

I was gripping the water bottle in my hand so tight I thought it would break. Water started overflowing, getting my arm wet but I couldn’t move. I thought that if I did I would go over and punch Rupert right across his stupid face.

            “I’m not playing the game like that,” George finally being a good person for once in his useless life.

            “You do what I say, or you are done,” Rupert threatened.

George started to reply when there was a thump that sounded, and I looked over finally. Rupert had pushed George to the ground, sending him flying and, unfortunately, revealing both of his testicles.

I flinched away, finally walking back over to our side. Jamie collected me, pulling me away from Rupert, even though we were already far enough.

            “What a fucking wanker,” he grumbled.

The crowd seemed to agree as Rupert started to walk off the field, shouting it at him over and over. Part of me felt bad for him- oh wait no it didn’t. He’d threatened Jamie Tartt. The love of my life, and I thought he deserved a lot worse than a bad name.

            “Everything alright?” Jamie seemed to notice my tense mood.

I looked back over at him, shaking my head. “Yeah, fine, just go out and smash it, yeah? Watch your left kick, you’re holding back.”

            “Heard,” he nodded, agreeing. “Anything else?”

            “Oh, yeah,” I imitated thinking. “I love you, and when you win, we’re gonna have banger sex tonight.”

He grinned wickedly at me. “Now that sounds like a plan?”

I could tell he wanted to kiss me, but we weren’t exactly public yet. Keeley said it would probably be a bad idea, might look bad for a coach to be dating their player. We weren’t a secret exactly either, but just private.

            “Go,” I pressed, pushing him away from me. He nodded, sending me a look that I could read. I love you, you’re amazing, thank you. I chewed my lip and nodded at him as well. I love you, too, go smash it.

The Hammers got control of the ball quickly and it seemed like they’d scored a pull-ahead goal but, as Ted pointed out, they had been offsides. That had been close, too close. We needed something. Jamie was trying to keep up his role as engineer, but he had been completely boxed in.

            “Okay. Come on. Talk to me, geese,” Ted brought is in.

We needed something they wouldn’t expect right now. Beard and Roy rattled off some plays, but I closed my eyes trying to picture the field, what I would be looking for. Jamie was who everyone was expecting to make a play, so we had to use him somehow, maybe as… as a fucking decoy.

 I opened my eyes and saw Ted looking at me. I could tell he’d just made the same connection I had.

            “Do you think it’ll work?” He asked me, cocking his head.

            “Definitely,” I stated, nodding firmly.

            “Alright, hold on,” he called over to Nate, getting him to come over to us before calling out to the boys. “Here hold this.” He mimed handing something to Nate, who took the invisible object. “IT’S AN OSCAR!” He shouted to the boys, giving Nate some instruction on how to hold it. “OR THE ESPY”

That seemed to resonate with the boys as they nodded finally, discussing amongst themselves.  They started off, Sam passing the ball to Dixon. Jamie sprinted into the box shouting wildly.

            “YEAH, YEAH! PASS ME THE BALL! ME, ME, ME! I WANT THE PALL! PASS ME THE BALL, PLEASE!”

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He really was selling it and it seemed to be working. There must have been four guys marking him. But Sam was left open and Dixon took his chance, passing him the ball. Then it happened, Sam took the shot.

            “Barbecue sauce.”

The ball soared into the goal, and we’d done it. The game ended shortly after. We’d won. Everything moved in slow motion, the cheer of the crowd, the jumping and celebrations, the ground shaking with excitement.

But I was just looking of one person. Jamie. I needed Jamie. And we locked eyes. His grey eyes stormy with excitement. I felt myself moving towards him, rushing onto the field to get to get to him as quick as I could. I jumped and he caught my in his arms, spinning me around, my legs flying behind me.

I took his face and kissed him. Right there. In front of everyone. I didn’t care anymore, I wasn’t his coach, I wasn’t anyone’s coach. And right now, Jamie Tartt needed a kissing. He stood there on the pitch, practically eating each other’s faces off until I remembered where we were and pulled away. He followed me, letting out a whine.

            “Not now,” I muttered to him, giggling. “Now we celebrate with them. But later…” I walked my fingers down his chest.

He grabbed my hand, tsking his tongue. “Don’t do that, love. Or I might just have to take you away right now.”

I shivered, tempted to let him do so. But then I looked over and saw Colin kissing his boyfriend, I saw Isaac and Sam hugging, I saw Ted starting to gain a crowd, probably ramping up to do something cheesy.

            “Let’s go celebrate, babe,” I said, taking his hand in mine.

We ran over to the group to watch Ted do his victory dance. We celebrated. We were on top of the world. That’s how I like to remember that time. The whole team together. All of us. I could see into the future. I could see Ted leaving, and that would be sad.

But I could also see Keeley and I giving Rebecca the plans for the AFC Richmond Women’s team. I could see Jamie and I going to Brazil together and Keeley and Roy joining us after the shoot was done. I could see Jamie reconnecting with his father, showing him exactly the man he’d become without him. I could see Roy and Nate running the team together brilliantly. I could see us, months from now, having dinner at Higgin’s house. The whole team, kids running in the yard, chatting with Roy and Keeley, laughing with Colin and Michael.

I could see happiness. A happiness that I didn’t have three years ago that I had now. A happiness that had been…

A Long Time Coming.

Taglist: @heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle @skewedcherries @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @snubug @rana030 @ems-alexandra @jaymum @imfalling-inlove @littleesilvia @eugene-emt-roe

END NOTE: If you've made it this far, thank you. When Ted Lasso ended, I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I still had the characters and stories rattling around in my head. So I decided to write this, just to get it out of my head, as an OFC Fic on AO3 (That's being updated as well if you're interested in meeting my OC).

Coming to Tumblr was inspired by a number of writers. Specifically three people who I now am mutuals with and even would call my friends. @illiterateaffairs @its-time-to-write, @alwritey-aphrodite, and @sokkigarden. Each of them inspired my in their beautiful understanding of Jamie's character, their individual styles and personalities, all of them inspired me and encouraged me to continue my writing. They are truly such talents, and I respect them each individually very greatly.

Finally, I have to thank every single person who has liked, commented, reblogged, or even just scrolled through a chapter. every comment, I read, every reblog, I read. They all mean the world to me, and I know I say that a lot but I really mean it. I didn't expect this series to get any traction much less get me nearly 400 followers. You guys kept me going.

Thank you for reading. From me and Jamie <3

[atorionsbelt]

i love the idea of phoebe through the years — her mum being the most supportive of her passions / exploration in expressing herself — while the escalating series of these experiments leave football legend roy kent progressively questioning his sanity. especially when it comes to one particularly pesky influence called jamie tartt. “what on earth has happened to your eyebrows?” “it’s fashion, uncle roy! uncle jamie had a slit in his all the time! didn’t you like it?” and as much as roy loves the little prick, and that look on him, he needs an extra long yoga session that day. “i didn’t tell her to do it! swear! c’mon babe, it’ll grow back.” and embarrassingly enough for roy, it doesn’t take much to forgive jamie these days. especially with that face. but the afternoon in which phoebe shows up home from school with an undercut, hot pink streaks, a miniscule stick-and-poke tattoo, and a nose piercing — eyes searching eagerly for their reaction — jamie predictably responds “i fuckin love it!” and roy surrenders. because now there’s two of them, giving him that look. unfortunately his own grunt of “yeah… like a fucking rockstar.” is easier to say than he’d ever prefer to admit.

[issdisgrace]

MY 2023 RECAP THING

Hello everyone, I've come to you all to look back at some of my posts from this year. I will go over which fics and/or headcanons currently have the most upvotes by the month that I posted them in. I will also be sharing some fics/headcanons I think deserve more love and fics/headcanons of my mine are my personal favorites. Then I will shout out a couple of people before giving my final thoughts. Hope you all enjoy this and have a good new year.

Starting in January, I posted 3 fics and 3 headcanons. But there can only be top three and those are 141 & Los Vaqueros getting saved after shit fell on them winning with 1061 upvotes, Lingerie cod men would wear on their honeymoon with 951 upvotes, and Racoon look alike with 639 upvotes.

Now on to Febuary. I posted 6 fics and 4 headcanons. And the top three are Cod men with a s/o that age regresses with 576 upvotes, For your fucking information with 552 upvotes, and Good boy at 503 upvotes.

Next up is March. I posted 2 fics and 2 headcanons in this month. The top three being 141 meeting Price's heavily tattooed & piericed s/o with 844 upvotes. Young dumb and in love with 372 upvotes, and Jason Vorhees with a tall dom s/o with 304 upvotes.

In April I only posted 1 fic and 1 headcanon. Meaning there is only top two those being 141 & Los Vaqueros reactions to you giving them a random gift with 872 upvotes and Rock and roll legend with 706 upvotes.

Similair to May I only posted 1 headcanon in May. So we only have a top one which is Diego Hargreeves NSFW headcanons with 124 upvotes.

Then in June I posted 3 fics and 1 headcanon. And our top three are Bite with 835 upvotes, Sexy army uniform with 555 upvotes, and Laundry day at 305 upvotes.

Next in the month of July, I posted 1 fic and 3 headcanons. The top three being Fucking Wesker, Leo, and Carlos in their office at 211 upvotes, Sleep aid with 76 upvotes, and Lingerie I think Jamie Tartt would wear at 20 upvotes.

Now in August I posted 1 fic and 4 headcanons. But our top three are Random SFW & NSFW Slasher hcs with 509 upvotes, 4 times Mr. Handsy struck with 303 upvotes, and 141 & Los Vaqueros with a chubby bf with 223 upvotes.

Then in September I posted 3 fics and 1 headcanon. But out of these 4 the top three are 141's Hitman "friend" with 330 upvotes, 141 with a s/o that smokes Mary Jane with 324 upvotes, and After a long day with 113 upvotes.

Next in October I posted 7 fics and 5 headcanons. However the top three are, Slashers with a s/o that uses humor to cope with 273 upvotes, Stress relief with 262 upvotes, and You sure about this with 250 upvotes.

Now coming close to the end of the year in November I posted 4 fics and 8 headcanons. The top three out of these being, Cod men with a s/o that is a good cook with 578 upvotes, The bar with 323 upvotes, and The lovey couple with 76 upvotes.

But now last but not least in December I posted 4 fics and 4 headcanons. But our top three are Love languages Matt Murdock and Frank Castle like giving and receiving with 127 upvotes, The start of Billy and his metal head bf relationship with 116, and Ghost comforting his trans bf with 109 upvotes.

I posted a total of 35 fics and 37 headcanonst this year which is crazy now to put in perspective. Thank you guys for all the love and support that kept me going and posting.

Here's some fics and headcanons I think deserve more love; Lingeire I think Kayce, Jamie, and Rip would wear, MJF with a non binary s/o, Lingerie I think Darby Allin, Jon Moxley, and The Young Bucks would wear, Jey Uso kinks, Being enemies to lovers with Carmy Berzatto, Lingerie I think Roy Kent would wear,

Now we are onto my favorite fics and headcanons that I wrote this year.

For fics I would have to say my favorites are Good boy, You sure about this, Alleyway blowjob, Duality, and Stress Relief.

And for my favorite headcanons I have to say 141 & Los Vaqueros reactions to you giving them a random gift, Random SFW & NSFW Slasher hcs, 4 times Mr Handsy struck, and Matt and Nick Jackson age regressing hcs.

We are now at shoutout portion and almost at the very end of this recap thing of mine. It is now time to give roses to some very lovely people that I can’t recommend enough. So starting off I want to shoutout some of my mutals, @yourfaveprettyboy, @marksbear, @b0g-b0y, @guardkeywolf, @electricsunshine, @yanderestarangel, @miguel-owhora, @bonesnmore, @gazmialmagemela and @transi1vanianhunger. And I also want to shoutout @rodolfoparras, @lieutnt, and @gatorbites-imagines. Please go check all these guys out and show them tons of love and support as they all deserve it. Also please be respectful and follow their blog rules.

Now we are at the bottom of this recap thing. I can’t say thank you enough to all you guys for continuing to read and interact with my work. I appreciate all of you and like I have said in the past when I started writing here on tumblr I never thought I would get this far and look now I have a over 2,000 followers and a whole slew of mutuals. So from the bottom of my heart thank you guys. I hope you will all join me in 2024.