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princessbiteme0o0 · 6 months

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Um this is like my first time asking but I have an idea which I really like so here I am asking!

So basically Ted is in theatre school with you and he your in the same class and you were paired up to do a scene of Romeo and Juliet. And there was a kissing scene you had to do.

In the evening Ted and you do into the theatre empty to practice the scene and you were really scared to do the kiss and he helps you out and then it slowly from a kiss gets more passionate and deep then… you two ended up doing the dirty in the theatre.

but during sex, he becomes more dominant and degrading like “imagine you took me like this infront of the class next week? You would look like a total whore.”

AHHH I HOPE ITS OK! and if you do it then I will give more ideas defo 💗

I adore you (and everyone that asks), having said that- this is BY FAR my favorite one 😭 Shakespeare is one of my favorite writers, along with Poe.

Thank you, Nonny and thank all of you that enjoy my writing!! It genuinely makes me SO HAPPY to see people enjoying and appreciating my writing.

Mainly for my home girl- @writingduhh 🩵🩵🩵

Having said all of that…

FIRST OF ALL- I don’t think Ted has a kinky bone in his body; I think he’s a cute lil vanilla baby, but fuck it we ball. MINORS DNI. I FEEL LIKE IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS AT THIS POINT.

Warnings: smut, slight bullying, degradation, praise, sexual tension, arguments, (kinda enemies to lovers), slapping (not abusive- purely sexual), choking, spit kink, spanking?, fingering, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, unspoken daddy kink?, melodramatics, ‘pup’ and ‘puppy’ used (don’t judge me) but no pet play, As always, let me know if I need to add more 🩵

Shakespeare in Love (Teddy Nivison x Reader)

—🩵—🩵—

She thought she was far over having to work with him on this play. She thought it would be a simple one and done; that maybe he’d have a simple two or three liner part. However, the moment she read the names next to each character, she felt her heart drop to her stomach. There it had been, in big, bold letters:

Tybalt- Kyle Jean

Capulet- Chris River

Juliet- (Y/N Y/L/N)

Romeo- Ted Nivison

She still remembers the anger that she felt at him for even auditioning, the rage directed at the casting director, the dread she felt at knowledge of the script; but like any good actress, she played it off.

So now, she sat on stage, reading over the script while waiting for mister always late. Had it have been better (and easier) circumstances, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the door to the auditorium swinging open. Her eyes lifted and met his gaze, smirk and all. She felt a heated anger drop to the pit of her stomach, but that smirk caused a different kind of warmth to drop between her thighs. Rolling her eyes where she knew he could see, she stood to her feet while looking over the script once more.

She was a tall woman, she knew that, but he was so much taller. His shadow lingered over her and when she looked up at him, he wore a goofy grin, eyes boring into her. “You ready, Pumpkin?” He asked in a mocking tone that made her eye twitch for a moment.

“Don��t fucking call me that.” She grumbled softly, glaring up at him. He reached his hand out and his fingertips ghosted over her bare shoulder and down her collarbone.

“Why not?” He pouted lightly, fingertips brushing up her neck now. “I know it feels good.” He whispered the second part, winking at her and she raised her hand to slap him, before the director scolded her.

“(Y/N)! Let’s save our emotions for the audience, hmm?” He shouted over the talking students in the room. Everyone went quiet and turned their eyes to her, making a warm blush flood her cheeks.

“You’re so cute when you blush for me.” Ted teases softly, pinching her arm.

Today is going to be a long ass day…

—🩵—🩵—

She watched on with fake love in her eyes as Ted read off his lines like a beautiful poem, especially for her. He took her hand in his as he continued, voice warm and welcoming, as if it were a soft pillow for her to lie back on-

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” The words weren’t his, but the look in his eyes and the way he said it so clearly to her made her body grow warm. My character, it’s just his character speaking to mine.

“Good Pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do not touch, and hand to hand is holy palmers kiss.” She spoke skeptically, eyes watching his every move. As he moved his body closer to hers, she had to fight the urge to step back. She could practically feel the magnetic urgency trying to pull them together, but she denied it, craving the comfortability in safety. His hand carefully raised to her jaw, cupping it with a gentle palm.

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” His voice was softer, careful almost, as if he was afraid of her pulling away. Taking in a sharp breath, she paused a moment, seemingly forgetting her lines- though she was quick to steady herself.

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.” She placed a careful hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he slipped an arm around her waist, fingertips resting in the small of her back. She knew it was coming, yet the more he touched her, the harder it was to keep up the boundaries she held.

“O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” His words were a deep rumbling whisper as his other hand slid up the side of her body. His fingertips gently massaged a path up her shoulder, her collarbone, just to rest carefully on her jawline. His thumb carefully ran over the apple of her cheeks as she struggled to find her line once more.

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.” Her mouth ran dry as he leaned forwards ever-so-slightly. She felt heat strike through her body and liquid heat pool in between her legs.

“Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.” His voice is deep rumble that vibrates her to her very core. When he leant down and pressed his lips carefully to hers, her world suddenly burst into vibrant colors, warmth immersing the room in the fireworks that flew between them. Both parties had a difficult time pulling apart, but she managed to pull away, only to realize she had a firm grip on his hair. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ted struggled to get his line out without stuttering, “Th-Thus from my lips, by then, my sin is purged.”

His eyes didn’t leave hers for even the slightest millisecond of time and his grip around her just tightened; until the director and everyone else in the class clapped. “That was absolutely stunning.” The director calls out. Almost instantly upon realization that they weren’t alone, they quickly tore apart from each other- she was blushing madly, while Ted just wore a look of confusion.

—🩵—🩵—

It was a few hours after practice and most of the staff went home, while she sat on the stage, silently going over her lines. She was reading through every detail, looking for every emotion. Lying back, she laid the script over her face, mind still flying from the previous events of the day. Suddenly, she heard the sound of footsteps and a soft shift of air around her as whoever it was sat beside her.

“Ted…” She grumbles, without even moving the script from her face. She knew it was him- of course she did, she hates him. His scent filled her nostrils and tempted to distract her.

“(Y/N)…” His voice is gentle; hearing him say her name like that was a surprise. Reaching up, he gently pulls the script away from her face. When her pretty eyes meet his, he smiles softly and just watches her for a moment. “Can we talk?”

“Hmph.” She lets out a soft puff of air and crosses her arms.

“(Y/N).” His voice is still gentle, but this time it takes on a warning tone. She looks back up at him through her lashes and sighs. Rolling her eyes, she moved to sit. “Now that you’re situated… Why do you hate me?”

“Can we just go over our lines, please?” Her eyes are silently pleading, but he just slowly nods with a soft sigh of succession.

“Where do you wanna start-“ He’s quickly cut off as she basically launches at him, crashing their lips together in a heated kiss. His mind is telling him to pull away, but everything else is telling him to pull her closer. His hands grip her hips, tight enough to leave bruises and he helps her climb into his lap. Pulling away, he looks up at her with a small smirk, “If you wanted me that bad you just needed to tell me.” He teased gently.

“If you want me at all, you’ll shut the fuck up.” She growls lowly. Raising a brow at her, he reaches behind her and places a firm slap on her rear.

“You better check your attitude with me, Sweetheart.” A squeak left her lips when he spanked her and she jumped, making her grind forward against him. Ted bit back a groan and closed his eyes. “Princess…”

The warmth in his voice and the tempting softness in his eyes made her melt right there in his lap. She was careful and hesitant with each movement she made. Exploring the new territory was terrifying, but it felt so… Right. Her lips traced along his neck, kissing and sucking every exposed inch of skin she could reach. Her canines would occasionally scrape over a patch of skin and her tongue would dart out to soothe it.

“You feel so good… Being such a good girl for me.” Ted mumbled, eyes closed and simply enjoying her sweet touches.

“You taste so good, Teddy.” She mumbles against his skin, tongue flicking out over his pulse point. “Makes me angry how good you feel.” Letting out a deep, breathy chuckle, he pries her away from him and lays her back on the stage.

“I know, Honey, I know…” He coos, pulling her shorts down her legs. His eyes settled on the wet patch on her panties, light hitting it and making it glisten in the most tantalizing way. His mouth watered at the sight. “Why don’t you let me make you feel good? Hmm? I bet you taste as beautiful as you look.” A high pitched whine leaves her lips and she grabs for him to try and pull him close again, but he denies her, instead moving his hands down her thighs and massaging the skin there. His thumbs kneaded her flesh, making her relax for him.

“There ya go, babes… That feel good?” He hums, hands creeping just slightly higher. A soft moan of relief leaves her lips.

“Yessss…” She hisses out softly, eyes fluttering shut.

“You seem to be carrying quite a bit of tension here…” He says smoothly as his hands move to the inside of her thighs and slowly creep higher. “But I think most of your tension is held here.” His fingertips brushing against the wet spot on her panties made her body jolt and a mewl sound around them, the sound bouncing off of the walls.

“Ted.” She whimpers, making him chuckle.

“Oh yeah, you’ve got so much tension… Right here.” As he finished his sentence, he gently pressed his thumb to her clit, making her back arch away from the stage and up towards him.

“Teddy!” She cries out in a lewd beg, hips moving against his hand in a desperate attempt to gain more friction. His thumb just continued to move in slow circles around her throbbing bud, making her cunt clench around nothing.

“What’s wrong, Hon? Hmm?” He teased, watching as her wetness continued to soak through her panties until she was dripping on the stage floor.

“I- I can’t- ‘S too much!” She cries out, nails digging into the skin of his forearm that she held onto for dear life. The confidence in his eyes flared and changed to a much darker expression, pupils blown wide with lust.

“Aww, does it feel too good, Pumpkin? Can’t handle feeling so good?” He mocked her in the most condescending way, but it made a whimper leave her lips as her eyes flashed open and met his. “You’re going to lay there and take it like the filthy slut you are.” He growls lowly, free hand slapping the outside of her thigh hard enough to leave a hand print, but her squeal morphed with a lewd moan of desperation.

“Yes Teddy… I- I can take- take it.” She stuttered out, legs shaking. His degrading hit her body like a truck, making her head go fuzzy. Ted nearly lost it when he saw the pure submissive state that she had slipped into, her eyes staring up at him innocently.

“Look at you, Princess…” He mumbles, pushing her panties aside and slipping his middle finger into her. Her breath caught in her throat and her lips parted in a silent moan. Her eyes locked on his as he curled his finger upwards to hit her most sensitive spot. “So fucking pretty.”

“Ted-“ She tries to speak, but he quickly shushes her. He slipped his ring finger into her as well and placed his free hand on her abdomen, very gently adding pressure. The feeling intensified for her and she cried out a sob, body shaking.

“You know I won’t let anyone else touch you now.” He mumbles, working his fingers faster and harder. “You’re mine now. Mine to degrade, mine to praise, mine to fuck… Mine to protect.” As the words continued to fall from his lips, her chest swelled with a new, overwhelming, uncertain emotion. Her cunt tightened, just as her chest did when she realized what emotion he was evoking in her.

“Ted I-“ He’s quick to cut her off.

“No, Shhh… Trust me, (Y/N)… Let me make you feel good, then you’re free to go back to hating me.” He speaks softly, eyes watching her face, rather than her body.

“No, Ted I want you.” She whimpers softly, her voice so soft and so weak. She sounded so innocent. “Please.” A warm smile broke out across his lips and he nodded, pulling his fingers from her and popping them in his mouth. A low groan rumbled through him, and he closed his eyes to savor her taste. When he pulled his finger free from his mouth.

“So fucking sweet.” He growls, literally ripping her panties from her body. “Because of course, the world’s biggest brat has to have the sweetest little pussy I’ve ever tasted.” He unbuckled his belt and yanked it off, folding it in half. Ted used the folded leather as a riding crop, slapping the outside of her thigh. “Spread ‘em, Cupcake.”

A smirk crossed her lips at the opportunity so clearly in front of her. Shaking her head, she huffed out one simple word, “No.” Ted grabbed her ankles and yanked her towards him. Giggling wildly, she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Mmh, maybe I just won’t let you cum…” She whined at the idea, pouting and smacking his arm, making him use his free hand to hold hers down. “Maybe I’ll just stuff you with my cum and plug you up. Let you throb around a silly toy instead of me.”

“Teddy!” She basically begs, tears of frustration welling up in the corners of her eyes. He let out a warm, hearty laugh at her response and slowly dragged the belt across her abdomen, using it to brush her shirt slightly upwards.

“Aww, poor Pup wants me to breed her?” He asks, raising a brow as his free hand carefully massages her hip. She quickly nodded her head and her hands made a little grabby motion for him, a high pitched whine leaving her lips.

“You’re so precious, Honey.” He hums, undoing the button on his slacks and pushing them down -along with his boxers- just enough for his cock to spring free. Biting her lip, she watched as precum dripped from the tip and fell onto her thigh. Her eyes slowly went up his body to settle on his, boring into his soul.

“I wanna taste you, Theo.” She fluttered her lashes at him in the prettiest, most sweet and innocent way she could.

“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think you deserve that treat today, Puppy.” He hums, gripping her legs and placing them over his shoulders and leaning so close to her that his lips brushed against hers and he whispered, “You only get what I chose to give you.”

The second that he finished his sentence, he buried himself to the hilt. A cry tore from her throat as her back tried to arch, but couldn’t as he pressed further forward, basically bending her in half. Her hands flew to his back and her nails bit into the fabric, nearly tearing the threads apart piece by piece.

“I’m gonna fill you up until your pretty little body can’t hold anymore.” He growls lowly, biting her lower lip. His words made her cunt tighten around him in an attempt to draw him in even closer. Drawing his hips back slowly, she drew in a sharp gasp when his hips lurched forwards, burying himself inside of her once more.

“Teddddyyy nnngh!” She chokes out, body trembling beneath his and he chuckles darkly, mouth attaching to her.

“What’s wrong, Cupcake? Can you not take it?” He mocked, cooing in her ear as he quickened his pace, fucking into her harshly and caging her in with his arms beside her head. She wildly shook her head, grappling for him with her nails nearly shredding the fabric of his shirt.

“P-please- ta- Ahh~ take it off.” She stutters out, gripping over little moans and whines. Ted found it impossible to resist her pleas when they sounded just so pretty. He kept his eyes on her face as he felt her nails dragging down his back.

“That feel better, Hon?” He mumbles and she buried her face in his neck.

“Yessss…” She hissed, teeth biting into the skin of his neck. “Oh God, Theo…”

“If I’d have known that you’d stop being such a fucking brat, I would’ve fucked you sooner.” He growls, sharply slapping the outside of her thigh as he changed the angle of his hips, making her let out a shaky sob. Tears fell down her cheeks as her vision clouded. Ted smirked as he hummed, watching the way her body morphed and changed position with every thrust.

The way he filled her so full, made her mind fuzzy and her thoughts fade away. Her cunt tightened around him as she threatened to fall over the edge, “Please Ted!”

“I dunno, Pumpkin. Do you think you deserve it?” He asks, halting in his movements, making her so frustrated she nearly screamed.

“Please, please, please, I’ll be so good, I swear. I’ll be so so so good for you Theo, please.” She begged and pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Gimme a kiss then, cutie.” Before his sentence was even complete, she launched herself forward, capturing his lips on hers. While she was distracted, he slipped his hand between the two of them, thumb massaging quick circles on her pretty little bud, picking his thrusts back up. His ministrations, made her let out a squeak against his lips as the band in her belly stretches so tightly that it could break at any second.

“Go ahead, Honey. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up. How’s that sound? Want me to fill you up? Get you all round with my babies?” His words were all that she needed, her world exploding into stars and butterflies as her orgasm hits her like a comet hits the earth, shattering her every nerve. Ted watched as her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ and her eyebrows pinched together. He held eye contact with her the entire time, reminding her to breathe as she rides off the effects. “There ya go, there it is. You alright, Sweetie?”

Her breathing began to steady as overstimulation kicked in, “‘M good, Teddy… I wan’ it.” She mumbles as he helped her move her legs from his shoulders to around his waist. His thumbs gently massaged her hips as he slowly picked his thrusts back up.

“I know, honey… Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got ya.” He speaks calmly, watching her as she starts to come back to attention. “There ya are… Welcome back to reality, Sweetheart.” He chuckles softly, giving her a goofy smile. A giggle punctuated by a soft moan leaves her lips and she smiles up at him, her own hands gripping his biceps and rolling her thumbs over his skin.

A soft groan leaves him and he lets his head fall to her chest as he struggles to hold it together. “My God, you’re so fucking tight. Gonna squeeze the life outta me.” He grumbles, placing gentle kisses over her chest as he lazily rolls his hips against hers. Her fingers gently card through his hair as she mumbles her own praises to him.

“You feel so good, Ted. Ya’ make me feel s’ good.” She hums, locking her legs around his waist as he starts to lose his pace. Lifting his head with the little energy he has left he gives her a questioning look.

“You sure you don’t-“ But she was quick to cut him off.

“Cum for me.” She whispers in his ear, placing a careful, open mouthed kiss on his neck. Right when she spoke, her pussy clamped down on him, making his eyes roll back in his head as his hips stutter and he bottoms out inside of her.

“Mmh, fuck…” He growls, filling her to the brim. “So good for me… Takin’ it so fuckin’ well.” His head falls to her chest and he mumbles something into her shirt. Whatever he said made him blush, the tips of his ears going red. She gently cups his jawline and lifts his head to look at her.

“What did you say, Theo?” She asks gently, thumb running across his lip. He paused and just stared at her for a moment, silence floating between them.

“I can’t believe you never realized how in love with you I am.”

#ted nivision smut #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison imagine #ted nivison fluff

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light-yaers · 1 year

Text

Take Care: Chapter Two

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: I couldn’t wait. I wanted to get the ball rolling more before I slowed down, so here’s the second chapter for you all! Mwah

Word count: 7k+

Chapter Two

Well, Chris. That was certainly a disappointing start to the season for Richmond.

Indeed, Arlo. Arsenal were all over them. It seems that new coach Ted Lasso’s tactics aren’t cutting it just yet.

I think that’s probably unsurprising, especially from him being a NFL coach in the States before this. Have Richmond bitten off more than they can chew, do you think, Chris?

I don’t know, Arlo. But without Jamie Tartt the team wouldn’t have clinched even one goal, so I hope Lasso knows to utilise the young striker a lot more.

Very right, Chris.

I’m always right, Arlo.

That’s debatable, Chris. Remember the prediction of 2004?

We don’t talk about the prediction of 2004, Arlo. I told you that in confidence.

Defeat settled around the stadium. As far as first ever football games went, yours had gone to shit. The guys had played to oblivion, but Arsenal had been better. You sat in the box next to Keeley, feeling the commiserations from the home crowd. They would go home in a sulk, for sure, and you didn’t blame them. You were feeling it yourself, even, despite all that you didn’t know about the sport.

You and Keeley left the owner’s box together, heading down the stairs. You went to take a left, heading for the car park, when Keeley stopped you gently. “What, going home already?”

“Is that not a normal thing to do after a game is over?” you asked.

Keeley snorted. “Not today. It’s Sam’s birthday, you wally. I’m driving Jamie home, too. So come on! Don’t be another debbie-downer from the crowd.”

You followed her down another set of stairs, headed for the locker room. As you approached, you could hear Coach Lasso. He blasted an optimistic pep talk to his guys, but if you’d been sitting in that room after a 3-1 loss, you wouldn’t want to hear it personally.

Keeley turned the corner first, as you whispered behind her not to interrupt. She rolled her eyes at you, entering the locker room and leaving you outside. You let out an annoyed sigh, bobbing on the spot with anxiety, before you finally plucked up the courage to show yourself.

“Hard luck, boys,” Keeley said first, going to sit upon Jamie’s lap.

You emerged in the doorway, arms crossed. To your surprise, the sunken faces of a few players perked up at your arrival. Isaac sat up straighter when he saw you, as did Sam. They both sent you small smiles through their frowns of defeat.

“Well, hey!” Ted said. “Good of you to join us.” He gently squeezed your shoulder, showing you it was okay to come in.

You sent a look of sympathy around the room as you entered, before your gaze fell upon that of a dishevelled Roy Kent. “Sorry about the loss, guys,” you said, not knowing what else to add.

“It’s a shame,” Sam began. “This was your first football match, was it not?”

A collective groan went around the room, only making you feel worse. You raised your hands defensively, widening your eyes. “No, no, don’t feel bad!” you let out, panicking. “Listen, it’s taken me my whole life to watch a football game, alright? And despite the outcome of this one, I wouldn’t change it for the world.” Your gaze skimmed Roy’s again, and you pooled all your genuine feelings within that one look. He sighed heavily, but some tension was relieved from his shoulders.

“Well said,” Ted spoke up. “I know this isn’t the outcome we all wanted, but we take it in our stride, and we move on. Besides, we have a cake to eat for Sam’s birthday here!” he exclaimed. Isaac clapped Sam on the back, and a few smiles trickled around the locker room. “So, grab a slice, get some sugar back in your systems, and let’s do better next time.”

You stayed with the guys in celebration, as Coach Beard pumped some tunes into the locker room. Jamie was the only one who stayed visibly pissed off. Keeley jumped off his lap as he grabbed his bag, leaving the room with her on his tail closely.

You watched them leave, but couldn’t stay on them for long. Ted shoved a plate of cake into your hands, taking you by surprise. The guys milled around too, coming up to ask about the match and what you made of it. You hated to admit it, but this was nice. This was the first time you felt properly involved with the team, despite Isaac’s birthday the week before. That hadn’t felt as familiar, but this did. These were people you knew now, in all their boyish glory.

You sat down in the middle of the room, on the central island. You listened to Colin’s jokes, and Richard’s stories from back home in France. Sam opened a few stray presents that had appeared in his cubby over the course of the day. What had you constantly turning your head, however, was Roy Kent.

He sat by his cubby, sorting through his things silently, a plate of cake untouched by his side. You had the urge to go and sit next to him, but you didn’t know the reason for it. There was a huge sense of respect for Roy within the walls of this stadium, but when it came to socialising, Roy usually sat out. You set down your own slice of cake, standing up abruptly in the middle of a story by Bumbercatch. You headed for Roy, and sat down next to him before he could protest. You crossed your legs and leaned back into the cubby next to him, crossing your arms comfortably. Roy stopped sorting his things, just to look at you for a moment, before he continued.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“No,” you said, leaving it vague. “Was just wondering why you had an aversion to your teammates being social, is all.”

Roy rolled his eyes and let out a sound between a groan and a growl. It was like a mid-ground. “I don’t have a fucking– aversion– to social events with the team.”

You shrugged. “Okay.”

Roy froze. “I don’t.”

You shrugged again, more aggressively. “I agreed with you.”

“Yeah, but you’re fucking lying. You think I avoid them.”

“I don’t think you do. You do avoid them.”

“Oh,” he looked at you like he’d just stood in dogshit. “Just– fuck off– with your assumptions, and your–” he waved his hand in front of his face, then in front of yours. “Your fucking face.”

You scoffed. “My face?”

“You always look like you know something about me,” he said. “It creeps me the fuck out.”

You raised your hands defensively. “Sorry,” you said. “I can’t help the way my face looks, unfortunately.”

Roy dropped his gaze to the floor. “You know that’s also not what I fucking meant.”

“Was it?” you said, but by this point you were fully fucking with him. You found it enjoyable, especially since you’d squashed your beef, to play with him more. He nibbled on every joke, every dig, that it was impossible to stop making them.

“I– fucking hell–” Roy looked back at you, and you let out a proper laugh.

“I’m fucking with you, Roy. Jesus, don’t worry,” you said, gently resting your hand upon his thigh without thinking. You only noticed when he stopped to look down at your knuckles; that’s when you realised his bare skin was practically burning a hole through your palm.

You took your hand off him, placing it in your lap quickly. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll leave you be,” you said, genuinely, before you stood. “I know it’s shit, by the way. Losing,” you said, with your back turned to him, before you twisted yourself to peer down at him. “But I meant it. I wouldn’t change this being my first football match for the world.”

Roy took in your words, letting out a soft sigh through his nose. He nodded. “Thank you,” he let out softly. You smiled at him, before you finally left him alone.

Days became more routine. You’d walk to work, grab a coffee on the way, say hello to the boys upon your arrival, before settling into your office. When you weren’t working on articles or website updates, you were looking up football facts, or writing your own novel. Your days at the Dogtrack had become something you were fond of, especially now that you weren’t strangers with anyone there anymore.

Sometimes, Sam would pop his head around the door of your office, and you’d have a catch up about books. You’d been recommending reads to one another for a few weeks now, each of you bringing in books from your own personal libraries for the other to read. It was like a mini book-club of sorts. That, and you just enjoyed the company of Sam Obisanya. He was younger than you, but felt wise beyond his years. You think you latched onto one another from how foreign everything felt– he was in a completely new country, while you were in an utterly new industry. Both of you felt like fishes out of water, sometimes.

You’d become closer with Ted, too, for that very same reason. Between you, your combined knowledge of football was practically comical. God forbid anyone asked either of you to explain the off-side rule, or a handball violation. Beard was an enigma of a man, and someone you didn’t mean to avoid, but just ended up doing. But, with more matches being played and lost, team morale was at an all time fucking low. You could sense it every time you entered the locker room after a long day of training, or decided to join the guys after their Saturday match days. You could never do what they did– all that losing would kill you off before you’d even make it to a win. That was why you took it upon yourself to try and cheer them up in the ways that you could.

You didn’t pity them or stroke their egos. You sat with them, and you listened. Sure, you had no fucking clue what they were saying when they mentioned 4-4-2 layouts, or a football kicking manoeuvre, but still you listened. Sometimes, that was all they needed. It seemed to be helping, and you didn’t mind spending more time with the guys when they simply needed it.

That’s what led you to join them after training one Tuesday, but morale was certainly higher than you’d been expecting. You entered the locker room with a smile, giving Colin a high five upon your arrival. Sam and four others were talking enthusiastically in the corner, and you perked your brow.

“What are they talking about, Colin?” you asked, as Colin pulled on one of his trainers.

“The charity ball. They’re talking about their plus ones, I think.”

“A charity ball?” you asked, peering down at him.

“You don’t know about the ball?” Colin asked back, and you shook your head. He stood abruptly then, clapping the boys to attention. “Guys! This one doesn’t know about the charity ball!”

His alert led the guys to erupt in several different conversations. It was far too much for you to take in, so you raised your hands and let out a chuckle. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, one at a fucking time.”

The room dulled to a stable level. Sam took the lead. “The charity ball is Richmond’s event of the season. Celebrities, cameras, lights, a special performance from a musical artist, all for charity.”

“Musical artist?” you said.

“This year it’s Robbie Williams!” Colin exclaimed, prompting the room to go back to roaring.

You looked to your right and hit Roy’s wandering gaze. He winced at the volume in the room, before he inhaled deeply. “Hey!” he yelled suddenly, shutting the guys down. “I can’t hear myself not think. Also, I fucking hate Robbie Williams.”

“Are you going this year, Roy?” Colin asked.

“‘Course, I’m going. There’s booze, isn’t there?” he said, and all of the guys nodded in agreement.

“We’re just talking about our plus ones,” Sam spoke to you again. “Richard just landed himself a Victoria Secret model.”

“Fucking hell,” you let out, suddenly feeling the smallest bit insecure. It was like you forgot the guys were big name footballers, and when you were reminded of that fact it hit you like a suckerpunch, sometimes. “Good on you, Richard.”

Richard nodded, sat on the bench by his cubby. “She has a kind heart. And, she is smoking hot.”

You smiled awkwardly. “Brilliant,” you muttered.

“Are you not coming?” Sam asked, strolling towards you. “You are part of Richmond now, are you not?”

“Well, considering I didn’t know about it until now, I guess Rebecca hasn’t factored me in. When is it?”

“On Friday,” Colin said.

You winced. “Yeah. I’ve definitely been left off this guestlist.”

Almost immediately, the boys started groaning. They slapped their hands on their thighs and stood up with annoyance. They wanted you to come, and it made your heart warm, definitely, but there was probably nothing you could do.

“I think we all have plus ones now, sadly,” Sam said. He placed his hand over his heart. “Otherwise, I would have taken you as my date in a heartbeat.”

“No, no, I would’ve, bruv.” Isaac chimed in. As if on cue, all of the boys went around the room and reassured you that they would have taken you.

You inhaled deeply and smiled so genuinely that you had to tell yourself to stop. They did this to you often, made you feel special, and welcome, and all of the things that you thought you wouldn’t feel on your placement here. They were kind.

You raised your hands again, trying to calm them down. “Guys, guys! Thank you, all of you. I appreciate you all saying you’d bring me, but it’s fine. I’m grateful for the gesture, anyway.” They nodded at you, all smiling their winning grins, before they went back to packing their bags. “Well, I’ll be off then. See you all tomorrow!” you announced.

“Wait a fucking minute,” Roy said, and the room dropped to silence once more. You halted immediately, turning back to meet his eye. “I don’t have a plus one.”

In the corner of your eye, Sam’s eyes widened. Isaac’s jaw dropped open. Colin’s eyes darted between you and Roy like a tennis match.

You held onto the strap of your tote bag tightly, until your knuckles turned white. “Oh.” You tried to say it nonchalantly, but it came out statically, timidly. You hated the sound you just made so bad that it was a miracle you didn’t melt from your own embarrassment.

“So?” Roy asked.

“So…?” you repeated awkwardly.

“Do you want to be my fucking date or what?” he let out. “They’re right. You’re part of this club. You should get to join us.”

You looked around the room for approval, but it was then that you realised, if he’d only asked you in a different setting, you wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. It was the pressure of all the guys around you that made it all the more worse. You knew Roy meant it as a kind gesture, not as anything more, but it was still easy for your heart to start pulsing harder beneath your ribcage.

You smiled bashfully, trying to play it off as nothing more. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Great,” Roy boomed, picking up his gym bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll pick you up.” He stepped towards you, headed for the door.

You scoffed. “You don’t have to do that. I can meet you there, or something.”

Roy peered down at you sternly. “I’ll pick you up,” he repeated.

“Okay,” you said timidly, giving in fast.

Roy left without another word, leaving you in the locker room. The guys stood around you with gobsmacked expressions, but one glance at them unlocked them from being statues. They went back to their prior conversations, with an underlying hubbub of gossip about what they’d just witnessed.

You left the stadium with two thoughts littering your mind. One, you had no idea what to fucking wear, and two– Roy fucking Kent had just asked you to be his date to the Richmond charity ball.

On the walk home, you called Keeley.

She picked up fast. “Hey babes, you okay?”

“Hey. Yeah, I’m okay. I do have a favour to ask of you, though,” you said.

“Okay, fire away!”

“I need an outfit for the Richmond charity ball,” you announced.

“I was wondering if you were coming! Leaving it pretty close, though, babe.”

“Yeah, well.” You sighed, knowing that Keeley would take the news the wrong way, but still you persisted. “I wasn’t invited explicitly, but Roy just asked me to come as his plus one.”

Keeley squealed like a crying baby. You held your phone away from your face, wincing in pain, until her shrill screams stopped. “Are you finished?” you asked.

“What the actual fuck!” she exclaimed. “This is just like that trope that everyone loves on Twitter.” She clicked her fingers impatiently, trying to remember. “Enemies to lovers!”

You scoffed immediately. “Please, Keeley, you’re making me feel a bit ill. It’s nothing like that. And besides…” You fiddled with your fingernails. “Roy and I would definitely be enemies to friends to lovers, first,” you added quickly. Keeley squealed again, and you winced once more. “Okay, okay!” you yelled. “Back on track. I need an outfit, and I desperately need your help.”

“Lunch break, tomorrow. I’ll pick you up,” she said, and you couldn’t help but smile. “This one’s on me, too, babes. I know MA students aren’t exactly dripping in gold.”

You sighed, but you couldn’t help the warm pang that raced through your chest. You really had some great people around you. A month into this placement and it had already exceeded your expectations. Even Rebecca had started warming to you, of all people.

“Thanks, Keeley,” you said genuinely. You could practically feel her golden smile radiating through the phone.

You worked non-stop the next morning, too anxious to stop for even a second. Right before lunch, Rebecca made an unexpected visit to your office. You were mid sip of a cup of tea, and almost choked on it when she knocked on your door and popped her head around the frame.

“Oh, sorry, have I caught you at a bad time?” she said, and you forced yourself to swallow.

You shook your head quickly, panicking. “No,” you croaked, then cleared your throat. “No,” you said, normally. “What can I do for you, Rebecca?”

“Well, I assume you read Trent Crimm’s article about Ted in the Independent,” she said, stepping inside and sitting opposite you. She crossed her legs, and for a moment you were mesmerised at how long her legs actually were.

“Yes, yes I did,” you said, looking at her face, finally. “It was a great article, one that showed off Ted’s true colours, I felt.”

Rebecca’s face flattened slightly. “Yes. Brilliant, wasn’t it. Anyway– I was wondering if you could write something about me.”

You froze, overcome by the overexcited beat of your heart. “Oh?” you managed to get out.

“Nothing major,” Rebecca said, waving at you with reassurance. “Just something for the website, nothing for the tabloids, you know. We all know what they write about me, already.” She fiddled with her perfectly done manicure as she spoke, before she cleared her throat and looked back up at you. “I just thought it might be a nice idea, since my name has been in every paper for months now, having something to do with the club instead of my failed marriage, is all.”

You sighed at her warmly, relaxing finally. “I’d love to write something for you, Rebecca,” you said with a smile. “Though, I’m not really an article writer, just as a warning. More fiction, more novels.”

“I thought your player profiles on the website were incredibly well written,” she said plainly.

Your eyes widened, and she mimicked you, but with a smile on her face all the same. “Oh, thank you,” you let out. “I’ll do it, then!” you agreed.

Rebecca smiled. “Fantastic!” She matched your energy. You shared a few peaceful moments together, which you latched onto after her aversion to you in the very beginning, but you were cut off when you looked at the time.

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, grabbing your bag quicky. “Sorry, Rebecca. I actually have lunch plans for once.”

Rebecca followed you in standing. “Oh? A date?”

You scoffed. “No, no. Keeley is taking me shopping before the charity ball.”

“Oh, fuck!” Rebecca exclaimed abruptly, making you jump. “I didn’t invite you, did I? Oh, fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling.”

“It’s okay!” you reassured her, as the two of you left your office. “Roy’s taking me as his plus one, so it’s no trouble anyway.”

Rebecca stopped in the hallway. “Roy’s taking you as his plus one?”

You stared at her bluntly, overly annoyed about the reaction that that simple sentence had garnered over the past few days. You fucking wished Roy had asked you in private, for fucks sake.

“Yes,” you said plainly, annoyed.

Rebecca was taken aback by your bluntness. “Oh. Well, how lovely,” she said.

“I desperately need an outfit, and Keeley is my only hope,” you continued, heading up the stairs to the second floor together.

“Oh, well, now that you’ve said it actually, could I join you?” Rebecca asked. You flicked your gaze onto her, noting the soft way her brows were furrowed in question. You weren’t used to her being so adamant to actually hang out with you, but you weren’t about to exclude her.

“Of course!” you said. “I’m meeting Keeley in the car park, I’ll tell her to wait for you.”

Rebecca nodded in thanks, as the two of you parted ways on the final step. You headed towards the car park to the right, while she sped in her heels to the left, all the way down the corridor and up the stairs, to grab her bag from her office.

Your lunch break turned into a lunch day, but Rebecca didn’t seem to give a shit. The three of you went into several different fashion establishments, none of which you’d fucking heard of. Keeley asked you what you wanted, and what ‘vibe’ fit you, but you had no fucking clue. You’d been in the football world for a month, and you’d already had to branch out and act like someone from a much higher tax bracket. It was exhausting.

As you changed in a dressing room for the thousandth time, Keeley and Rebecca poured all of you a glass of complimentary champagne. You struggled with the straps of this latest number– some sci-fi looking dress where you looked more like a Dalek than a princess.

“How are you getting on in there?” Rebecca yelled from behind the curtain.

“I’m–” You struggled to zip yourself up, feeling like nothing but a sack of tomatoes under some tarp than someone remotely attractive. “I’m… trying. But, this one doesn’t feel like it’s for me!” you yelled back.

“Hmm.” Keeley hummed, standing up and downing her drink. She placed the glass down and headed towards a new rack, full of black jumpsuits. “What’s Roy’s favourite colour?”

“Black!” you and Rebecca yelled simultaneously. “But, we’re not matching or anything,” you added. “He just got me an invite to the ball itself, it’s not a date situation.”

“Isn’t he picking you up?” Rebecca asked.

You shoved your head out of the dressing room, flustered. “That was his idea. It wasn’t up to me.”

“So, maybe he thinks it’s a date, but you don’t,” Rebecca suggested.

You let out a frustrated huff. “God, can we just– not– talk about Roy for once? It’s been constant today, ever since he announced it in the locker room. It’s deeply annoying.”

Keeley grabbed a jumpsuit off the rack, bringing it over to the dressing room. “I don’t know, babe. Seems to me like you’re the one who’s pissed about it all. It’s just a bit fun, ain’t it?”

“Exactly!” you yelled, sticking your hand out to grab the garment from her. “Which is why I hate how much everyone is overreacting about it.”

“Who’s overreacting about it?” Keeley asked.

You stuck your head out of the curtain again, red in the face. “You squealed at me down the phone, Keeley! And Rebecca, you yelled in the hallway! I called my mother last night and she started crying when I told her.”

Rebecca and Keeley winced at you. “Sorry,” Keeley said.

“Apologies,” Rebecca added. “It’s just that, well, I don’t think anyone ever expects Roy to actually be a gentleman.”

You slipped on the jumpsuit that Keeley handed you, and looked at yourself in the mirror afterwards. To your surprise, it was good. It reminded you of the jumpsuit from Fleabag, a bit of cleavage shown off, just to make it sweet.

“I don’t get that,” you started, ruffling up your hair into something semi-presentable. “Roy is a bit of a gentleman. He went to my lecturer and explained that he’d been an arsehole, and ultimately got me the grade I deserved. He drove me home a few weeks ago, too. And, yeah, he gave up his plus one spot for me which was… sort of sweet, I suppose” You twisted yourself in the mirror, happy with the reflection you saw.

You pulled open the curtain and stepped out of the dressing room. “So, yeah, I’d say he is a gentleman.” You turned to Keeley and Rebecca, and both of them were frozen to their spots. You were taken aback by their wide-eyed and open mouthed expressions. “What… is it too much?” you asked, peering down at your body.

“It’s perfect,” Rebecca said, in awe of you.

“I think Roy fancies you,” Keeley said, biting at her fake nails.

You let out a colossal sigh, turning around to look at yourself in the mirror again. You couldn’t be bothered to keep looking, not when you felt great in something you’d tried on, finally. You had Rebecca’s seal of approval, too, which was absolutely good enough for you.

“This is the one,” you said, turning to the retail worker. “I’ll take it.”

By Friday, things had settled down. If it weren’t for your stern glares at the guys when they teased you, then they would have only continued, but you made yourself clear. You didn’t want to be hassled about this, and you definitely knew that Roy wouldn’t want it, either. You suspected he was already regretting his choice to bring you along with him.

Despite your clear annoyance over the past few days, the atmosphere at the Dogtrack was nothing but great. Training had gone well, with Ted and Beard finally making progress with the team. Rebecca had eased up even more, actually inviting you to join her for lunch the day after she helped you pick your ball attire. On Thursday, you played Cluedo with Higgins, and on Friday, you walked in on the coaches during one of their… special meetings.

You were alerted to them from the abrupt barking, but the noises were unmistakably coming from humans instead of dogs. Hearing the noise all the way from your office, you made your way down the corridor to the locker room. You kept close to the wall as you entered, knowing that Ted and Beard were in the manager’s office, but they weren’t alone. Higgins and Nate were with them, too, and it seemed that all of them had contributed towards the various barks.

“Well, gentlemen, it seems all of us have our wits about us this time around,” Ted announced, in his classic southern drawl.

“Ah, ah, ah, wait,” Higgins added. “I know we formed this group for the balance of men having each other’s backs emotionally, but does that stop us from expanding?”

“Expanding?” Nate asked.

“Further afield,” Higgins said. “You know, like gossiping.”

Ted and Beard gasped. “Well, Higgins, that might just stir a pot that doesn’t need stirring. The kind that your mom stands over the stove with for hours, you know? And as soon as she takes a break, and tells you not to touch it, what do you do? You touch it. And whatever custard or queso or sauce she’s making curdles.”

Higgins deflated a little. “I guess you’re right.”

There was a moment of silence, before Ted perked up again. “But, just because of the unhelped curiosity of man, what was it that you wanted to expand upon?”

You leaned against the wall outside, right next to the manager’s door. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t stop listening. It was infectious and impossible not to want more. Slowly, you leaned even closer.

Higgins cleared his throat. “There is a rumour circulating these halls…” You held your breath, wondering what tea was about to be spilled. “Roy Kent’s plus one for the charity ball has been filled.”

Ted, Beard and Nate all gasped. All semblance of cool that you had turned red immediately.

Without hesitation, you stomped your boots upon the ground like a spoiled child. “Fucks sake!” you yelled suddenly, before you quickly revealed yourself in the manager’s office doorway. The men inside looked immediately shaken, clutching onto their hearts like they were scared they’d jump out of their chests. You huffed from frustration. “It’s not a big deal!”

“Oh, hey!” Ted exclaimed, taking his hand away from his heart. “God, you gave us one heck of a fright.”

“Are you Roy’s plus one?” Higgins returned to the conversation at hand.

You leaned against the doorway, defeated. “Yes. And at this point, I wish I fucking wasn’t.”

“Hey now,” Ted said gently. “Is this what this rumour is, huh? That you’re Roy’s date to the charity ball?”

You shrugged. “It’s been constant this week. I’m surprised you all didn’t hear about it sooner, to be honest.”

“I did,” Beard chimed in. All eyes in the room fell on him, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Great,” you said plainly, before you turned back to the others. “It’s not like it’s a huge thing, or something so out there that it should be discussed. I feel like everyone’s been, I don’t know, whispering about it over the past few days. Keeley squealed at me. Rebecca yelled in my face. My own mother cried.”

All the men in the room winced in unison.

“Can I be completely honest with you all?” you asked suddenly, and as if on cue all the guys stood up straight. Immediately, they started making barking noises and whimpering like dogs, as if they were a gaggle of drama students. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered in response.

“This is a safe space. Speak your mind as much as you wish,” Ted explained.

“Well,” you started, letting out a stress filled sigh. “First of all, he asked me in front of the entire locker room. From the get-go it’s been made out to be a bigger thing than it needed to be, you know? And after that, everyone started acting like it was huge! Like it was so out there that Roy fucking Kent asked the bloody social placement, of all people, to go with him to the charity ball. Rebecca said that it’s because no one expects Roy to be a gentleman, but I know he is one, so that doesn’t exactly make sense to me.”

“So, what you’re saying is, it makes it seem like it’s a huge deal because it’s you and him, instead of just him?” Nate offered.

You widened your eyes at him, nodding in agreement. “Exactly that. It just… makes me feel a bit shit. Like I wasn’t an option that anyone would expect him to pick. Which is fucking stupid because, God, it’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s been blown out of proportion, you mean?” Higgins asked.

You nodded again. “Massively.”

“And that’s frustrating you because it makes you feel judged?” Ted joined in.

You nodded again. “Yep.”

The room fell silent for a moment. It was almost suffocating, alongside the stares of four pairs of eyes landing on you all at once. You felt like a child, it was true, but you couldn’t deny how much this entire ordeal had got to you. You wished people would leave it, wished they’d stop fucking talking about it like it was some huge revelation.

Beard cleared his throat. “You need to fucking own it.”

You snapped your stare onto him instantly. “Excuse me?”

“Own it!” he exclaimed again. “If this is really bothering you, don’t let people know that you care. Stomping your feet about it and getting flustered will only perpetuate their reactions.”

“Are you really saying that my mother crying to me is my fault?”

Ted took the reins. “Not that.” He shook his head. “That’s all on her.”

“When you show up tonight next to Roy, act like you belong there,” Beard continued, leaning forward in his chair to look at you fully. “Because you do belong. You’re part of this club, and the guys all wanted you at the ball in the first place. Don’t let them rattle you.”

You furrowed your brows at him. “How do you know all this?”

Beard leaned back, propping his legs up on the desk casually. “I was in here when Roy asked you to be his date.”

“Ahaaa, so it is a date,” Higgins said, but was promptly shut down by all sets of eyes glaring at him to oblivion. “Sorry. Gossiping is an addiction that I cannot seem to shake, no matter how hard I try.”

“So, I should own it?” You kept the conversation on track. Beard, Ted and Nate all nodded in agreement. “Okay, yeah. You’re right. Fuck it all, right? I’m part of this team, and I deserve Roy Kent’s plus one the same as anyone else.”

“That’s it!” Ted exclaimed, before turning to the rest of the guys. “Well, that was another successful visitor pass discussion. Diamond Dogs, out!” The four of them all went back to barking like dogs, only made worse by Ted and Nate sticking out their tongues, as if they were lapping up water.

“Okay, I’m leaving,” you said quickly, immediately turning on your heels to get the fuck out of there.

As you walked back to your office, you took their advice on board. Was it really that simple, just to own it? Act like you belonged, act like it was just another normal fucking day at AFC Richmond? You sighed when you reached your door, knocking your knuckles against the wood of the door frame. It was sturdy, same as the rest of the stadium walls and floors, and you would be, too.

You wouldn’t let this ball phase you, wouldn’t freak out about the guys’ reactions, about Keeley and Rebecca’s, and certainly not your fucking mother’s. You’d be hard as nails when you got into Roy Kent’s Jeep, as the two of you pulled up to the venue. You’d smile for the cameras, be comfortable on Roy’s arm as you walked in, and have a brilliant fucking night.

Nothing would go wrong. Nothing.

Roy pulled up outside your door and honked his horn once, twice, three times. He figured that would be enough to get your attention. He fiddled with his tie as he sat behind the wheel, tapping his car's leather interior as he waited for you to open your front door and jump into the passenger seat next to him.

Little did he know, but you’d made the unwise decision to Google the Richmond charity ball while you were getting ready, only to see the prestigious guestlist. It was celebrities galore, millionaires, billionaires, but no MA students who’d been shoved into the club as a last resort. You took back everything you’d said about feeling bad about being Roy’s plus one– you weren’t one of these people, and that was fucking adament by the hoards of paparazzi, and thousands of pounds donated.

Roy honked his horn again, and you flinched on the floor of your bathroom. You leaned against the door, trying and failing to calm down the anxiety that raced within your bones. Roy honked again, and you found yourself groaning. “I can hear you, Roy!” you yelled, knowing that he couldn’t hear you back. “Fucks sake.” You fumbled as you grabbed your phone from beside the sink.

You unlocked it and went to texts, putting in Roy’s name at the top. Your eyes skimmed the last message you sent– the one about your assignment. You still had no idea if he had you blocked, or if other circumstances had kept him away from his phone at that time, but that didn’t stop you from texting him now.

Having a fucking nervy-b. Two minutes.

Roy’s phone pinged suddenly, and he shuffled it out of his inside jacket pocket. It was an unsaved number, but he knew it was you as soon as he opened the message up. Not just from the timings, but from the previous message that he didn’t recall getting at all.

This was for my degree, my first assignment is due on Sunday. It’ll be incomplete without you.

Roy’s eyes widened. “Fuuuuuuck,” he let out coarsely. He reread both messages, over and over again, before he made the decision to kill his engine.

He jumped out of his Jeep, slamming the driver’s side door shut behind him. He hopped onto the pavement and climbed the steps to your front door. He didn’t hesitate knocking with his knuckles, loudly. The banging reverberated throughout your ground floor flat, startling you as you sat in the bathroom. When the banging didn’t stop, you let out another frustrated groan. You had no choice but to let him in, and get over this small mishap that had got you so inside your own head.

You shuffled your way to your front door and clicked the intercom that came with it. “Can I help you?”

“What the fuck is a nervy-b?” Roy replied through the static.

You bonked your head down against your front door, hating yourself for ever writing a message without thinking. “I’m– it’s–” you stuttered, but there was no good way to say it. “Just come in. I’ll be ready soon.” You buzzed him in, and Roy entered through the main door into your building. From there, you unlatched the lock on your front door and kicked it open for him, before retreating to the comfort of your kitchen.

Roy closed the door behind him, breathing in deeply as he took in his surroundings. Your flat was dainty, but oddly comforting. It reminded him of the flat he had when he first joined Chelsea, all those years before. Albeit, yours was certainly cleaner and tidier, but it still left him with a fond feeling. He stepped further inside, catching a glimpse of you in the kitchen to the right.

“Hey,” he let out, crossing the threshold to approach you. “You alright?” he asked.

You leaned against the counter top, shoulders high and tense, with your back turned to him. “I’m good.” You lied.

Roy arched his brow at you. “I’m not quite sure I believe you.”

“It’s fine!” you exclaimed, before you finally turned to him. “Beard said to own it, so that’s exactly what I’m going to fucking do. None of it fucking matters anyway!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Roy took a step closer.

“This! I mean, I’m not a celebrity, I know fuck all about football, and had to get Keeley to help me pick out this fucking outfit, but I’m still going to own it.” You wondered, if you kept lying to yourself, would it finally stick? “Right?” you asked Roy.

He raised his hands slowly, gently. “I finally understand the meaning of nervy-b,” he said lowly.

You furrowed your brows at him in gentle pleading, before you dropped your head into your hands. “I fucking hate Google,” you said, your voice muffled through your fingers.

Roy took a moment to regard you, finally understanding what it was that was getting to you. He could understand why. As a professional footballer himself, a showboater, a performer, he hated being in the public eye when he didn’t have to be. He preferred to be left alone, staying far away from PR deals and interviews. He could relate to what you were feeling, despite all the years he’d had to get used to it.

Slowly, he stepped towards you. He brought his hands forward and grabbed your wrists gently, pulling them away from your face. When you peered up at him, it was like a chunk of his lung fell into the depths of his stomach. You were terrified, and Roy had no fucking clue how to make it better.

“If Beard said to own it, then own it,” Roy said gently. “If it makes you feel any better, I fucking hate events like this.”

You sniffed. “You do?”

Roy nodded. “But, it’s a necessary part of the job. By now, though, paparazzi know that I don’t give a fuck about them. They piss me off, so I know how it feels.” His eyes flicked over your face, trying to seek out the right words to say. “About the celebrities, though. Well, I’m a fucking celebrity, aren’t I?”

You scoffed abruptly, taking yourself and Roy by surprise. “Sorry,” you said quickly.

“See? It’s funny when I say it, right? Because we work together, and you thought I was the fcuking caretaker last month.”

“I’m still sorry about that,” you whispered.

“This is what I mean. The word celebrity makes it all the more scary and shit,” Roy continued. “You know all the guys at the club, and they fucking worship you. It’s a bit fucking weird sometimes.”

You laughed properly then, as Roy’s words started to sink into your skull. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” you said, breathing in deeply, and exhaling slowly.

Roy removed his grasp from you and took a step back. “Fucking own it.” He settled on, giving you a once over with his dark eyes.

You let out a shaky breath, expelling as much of your anxiety from your body as you possibly could. You stood up straight, shaking out your limbs. “Okay,” you muttered to yourself, before you headed off towards the bathroom, again.

You worked fast, calmly, to clean yourself up. Roy let himself out and leaned against the hood of his car, the same way you had in the car park a few weeks prior. When you walked out of your flat, shutting the door behind you, you were like a completely different person. No longer were the nerves and anxiety eating you alive. You’d been replaced by someone that knew her worth, someone who stood up tall and proud in her pair of platforms. Someone who, certainly, was going to get cold by the evening, but didn’t factor in a jacket of any kind when picking out this fucking outfit, so she had nothing.

Roy tugged open the passenger side door for you. You muttered a thank you at him, before you both got comfortable in his Jeep. Roy stuck the keys in the ignition, but turned to you before he switched on the engine.

“Ready?” he asked, just double checking.

You nodded. “Let’s fucking get this over with.”

“That’s the fucking spirit.” Roy started the engine, and you were off.

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl @royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff @ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum

CHAPTER THREE

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #brett goldstein #lightyaers #fanfiction #ff #x reader #reader insert #long fic #writeblr #ao3 #archive of our own #wattpad #angst and fluff #enemies to friends to lovers

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