#roy kent drabble

[peterpparkrr]

Banter (Ch. 4)

Series: Banter

Pairing: Roy Kent x f!Reader

Summary: Sam has his restaurant’s soft open. You and Roy spend the night together. No! Not like that!

A/N: I cried twice during this week's episode, how are you guys doing?

(Ch. 1) (Ch. 2) (Ch. 3) // (Ch. 5)

series masterlist

"Keeley..." You singsong as you walk up to where she and Rebecca are staking a claim in front of the bartender.

"What did you say to Roy?" You ask her as you lean your face toward hers, making an effort to keep your voice low seeing as the man in question is only on the other side of this relatively small restaurant.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Keeley replies with such a convincing tone of innocence that you’d almost believe her if it weren’t for the fact that Roy Kent was staring at you with such unabashed intensity that you felt like you might combust.

"He's...looking at me," You whisper-hiss in her direction. Causing both women to look over your shoulder to where Roy is sitting with Jamie Tartt, Jamie going on about something while Roy continues to stare in your direction.

“God, he really is intense, isn’t he?” Rebecca comments as she turns back to you, sipping her drink. 

You purse your lips to keep yourself from snapping at your newfound friend. 

You know this is amusing to Keeley and Rebecca, everything about your love life is amusing to these women, but you’re having a hard time laughing about it when everyone else knows just as much about your business as you do. And how it sometimes feels like they know stuff you don’t know. 

“I need to know why all of that intensity is aimed in my direction, and Keeley’s my best bet,” You reply as you stare at your best friend expectantly. 

“Nothing! I just encouraged him to explore the relationship- friendship between you two!” Keeley defends.

“Go say hi to your new friend,” She adds as she prods at your side.

You sigh but move to say hello to him anyway.

Jamie has disappeared off to somewhere else by the time you move to this side of the room.

"Hi... friend," You greet Roy as you come up to him with an awkward smile, your hand coming up in a half-wave, half-fist bump that just makes it look like you greet people by punching the air.

Cool.

"Right," Roy replies gruffly as he frowns down at you. 

"This place is nice, I'm impressed," You comment as you glance around the space.

When Keeley had invited you and explained that one of the AFC Richmond players had started a restaurant you kind of expected it to be like most celebrity-owned establishments, completely detached from that person other than the use of their name to get people in the door. With little care for anything other than making money.

But you were pleasantly surprised, Sam clearly had a lot of oversight here as owner, he was helping deliver plates to people’s tables, checking in with the chef, and making the rounds to ensure everyone was having a good time. 

Not to mention the fact that the food looked absolutely amazing.

Sam cared a lot about sharing his culture and food. And it showed.

"Maybe Sam should quit and become a full-time restaurateur,” You comment as the man in question sneaks around the two of you with two plates in his hands.

"Don't you fucking dare put that idea in his head," Roy replies. “The team needs him.”

"You'd figure it out,” You say with a wave of your hand. “Ted and Beard are both pretty smart guys," You add with a small smile.

"And you too, I guess," You add with a sigh, smiling at Roy as he takes your teasing remarkably well given your past. 

"How have you been?" Roy asks you.

"Oh, um, good," You reply with a nod. “You?” 

“Shit,” Roy replies.

“Oh… um…” You stammer as you glance at his expression nervously. Only to see him staring back at you as straight-faced as always but with a glimmer of something behind his eyes that has your short-lived anxiety quickly morphing into relief and amusement. 

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” You reply as you hit his upper arm with your palm. 

“Yeah, glad you finally noticed,” Roy replies.

You smile up at him for a moment before a server with another platter of delicious-looking food walks past you. 

“Watching all of this food come out is making me extremely jealous, do you want to order some food to share?” You ask as you gesture toward an open table in the corner.

“Yeah,” Roy replies. 

As you move to sit down you miss the look that Roy and Keeley share.

As it turns out, talking to Roy is easy.

You’d initially been a little worried that with your nervous energy and hatred of long pauses that trying to make conversation would be like pulling teeth, but once the two of you get going you can’t stop. 

“What do you mean?!” You shout as Roy finishes telling you the story of how his ex-girlfriend stole his Rolex and sold it for drug money.

“I said what I said,” Roy replies.

You burst into laughter at the whole story. 

“Uh oh,” You mutter as you see Sam out of the corner of your eye start to put chairs up on the tables. 

And then you glance around to realize everyone else is gone except for Sam and his employees.

Keeley and Rebecca had bid you goodnight a little while ago but everyone else had still been here then.

“I think Sam is trying to very politely tells us to fuck off,” Roy replies as you pull your phone out of your bag to realize how late it’s gotten. 

And get a glimpse at a series of texts from Keeley almost exclusively consisting of emojis including but not limited to the peach, eggplant, and explosion emojis.

“Do you want to go get a drink? There’s a pub down the road that makes good cocktails,” You ask Roy when you turn back to him. 

“Yeah,” Roy replies as he moves to stand up.

“Thanks for tonight, Sam, this place is seriously amazing, it’s going to be a huge success, I can already tell,” You tell Sam with a smile as you and Roy make your way to the door.

“Good food,” Roy adds from beside you.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Sam replies with a grin. “And I hope you’ll stop in again soon.”

“Oh, we will,” You reply without even thinking about it before you head out with one last wave.

We. You said we. Putting you and Roy into a shared unit without even thinking about it. 

And you didn’t hate it.

As your brain spirals Roy switches over the walk on your other side, his hand ghosting the small of your back as he places himself between you and the road. A move that you’ve only read about in books. Or heard about on TikTok from people who apparently have better boyfriends than you’ve ever had.

The spiral pops an embarrassing story of your own into your brain.

“I once had a boyfriend who was stealing money from my wallet and when I caught him he claimed it was a ‘boyfriend tax’,” You blurted out as you glanced over at Roy. Filling the silence with your rambling.

“Your terrible ex story reminded me,” You add. 

Roy looks down at you and stops dead in his tracks as he turns to face you more completely. You stop walking too and take a step back to glance back at him.  

“What was his name?” Roy asks. 

“Br– wait, I’m not telling you that,” You stop yourself when you realize what he means. “I can’t let you go to jail for murder.”

“You don’t know that it was going to be murder,” Roy replies.

You laugh.

“C’mon,” You say as you loop your arm around Roy’s and pull him along to come with you. “Let’s go get that drink. Maybe I’ll tell you his name after I’ve had a few.”

After the change in locations you’re ready for the mood to shift and for you to down a quick drink and bug out as whatever weird truce you and Roy have going on fizzles. But the conversation continues to flow even better as the two of you share a few more drinks.

Once it becomes truly too late that even the bar crowd is starting to think Roy offers to walk you home.

"Thanks for walking me home," You tell Roy when you reach the door to your flat. "I'd ask you to come in but it's probably way past your bedtime with practice tomorrow."

"Yeah," Roy replies.

"Tonight was fun, I'm glad we were able to break the ice," You say as you glance down at Roy’s lips. Waiting for him to look at you and do the same. 

But his eyes don’t move from the top half of your face.

"Me too.”

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow- today technically," You add.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," Roy says with a small smile.

"Goodnight," You reply.

And then Roy turns on his heels and walks down the hallway.

You watch him disappear down the staircase before you turn and shove your key into your door.

"Goodnight," You mutter to yourself as you push open your door. "What the fuck?!" 

[kentdreaming]

Ribs: a Roy Kent story

Series: Ribs

Pairing: Roy Kent x OC

Summary: Natalia's past is now quickly becoming her present. Might as well try to make light of it all.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing but that's about it

A/N: I'm so so so grateful for all of the love already for the first chapter! I'm pretty rusty in the writing world, so be patient as I get my footing again. I just love Roy Kent so much, yall. Also, yes I used an old Lorde song for the title of this series in the year 2023, nature is healing

gif from @winterscaptain

Chapter 2

His eyes were so dark. A deep warm brown bore hard into her sharp green for a moment. Natalia blinked hard, hoping, wondering, if this was a dream. A glimmer ghosted across his eyes before it disappeared behind some furrowed and bushy eyebrows. “Natalia,” He nodded quickly. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even utter a sound, Roy had pushed past her and quickly through the photographers giving them obscene gestures and a slew of “Fuck off”s. Natalia scoffed, dumbfounded. She quickly shook it off and squared her shoulders before stepping onto the red carpet. The cameras and reporters roared when she stepped into frame. “Talia, Talia, who are you wearing!?” “Talia, over here!” “Talia–” 

She squirmed under the flashing lights and cacophony of sound. Talia tried her best to soothe herself in the moment, playing it off with her hard rocker energy and striking a few poses to appease the cameras. After a pose with devil horns and her tongue out, she began her descent toward the ballroom. 

“Is it true you’re now a minority owner of AFC Richmond!?” A reporter yelled. She stopped, flipping her hair over her shoulder for one final money shot with the response, “Yes, darling. It is true. But I must be off to donate to children in need, toodles!” 

Natalia stomped into the ballroom and was quickly overwhelmed with the crowds. Not wanting to bother Rebecca as she was clearly in her own groove, she found Ted at the bar. “I’ll have the same as him, love,” Natalia rapped on the bar beside Ted as she heard him order a triple of whiskey. “Well I’ll be,” Ted smiled, quickly admiring her outfit, “You sure do clean up nicely!” 

“Thank you, Ted,” Natalia smiled, leaning over to fix his tie. Quickly she felt eyes on her from somewhere else in the room. “Everything alright, Mr. Triple shot?” “Oh y’know when you just see through someone?” Ted shrugged. “Ah, I see you met Rupert,” Natalia nodded as their two drinks were delivered. “You know him?”

“It’s hard not to know him in these circles, but I only know him to be particularly fucking  disgusting. You ever heard how Rebecca found out about his cheating?” 

“Mm mmm,” Ted shook his head as he drained his whiskey. Natalia raised her eyebrows, taking a long slow sip, not breaking eye contact with the American. Ted took a moment to register what she meant. She felt the eyes again, but she ignored it.

“You?” Ted finally put two and two together. 

“Yup,” Natalia nodded, knocking the bar and ordering another round, “He extended me an exclusive invite to Bones and Honey, thinking he could win me over that way… Little did he know I’m already a fuckin’ member. So, I promptly showed up, squashed a morsel of that ego of his and then quickly left to find Rebecca.” “Well, I sure am happy you made that call,” Ted smiled, clinking his glass with yours, “otherwise I never woulda had this opportunity. So I s’pose I have you to thank then.” Natalia smiled, relaxed for the first time all day and patted Ted on the shoulder, “Pleasure is all mine, Ted.” The two enjoyed some chit chat at the bar and seemed to be having a good time. Roy Kent, however, was not. Not only was he sitting at the table with Jamie fucking Tartt, but everytime he had glanced in Natalia’s direction, she seemed to have been getting closer and closer to the gaffer. His hands clenched into hard fists under the table. He hadn’t seen her in decades and there she is chatting up that annoying American. He couldn’t understand why he was getting so angry. But then he saw her and Ted rise from their spots at the bar and make their way toward the table, just as he was getting ushered off to be brought up on stage. 

Natalia reached the table as Keeley Jones was making her way back. A small squeal emitted from both the small women, the two quickly hugged each other.

“Talia! You looking fucking incredible, babes!” Keeley squealed, running her way to her in her golden gown. She kissed Natalia’s cheeks and ogled her. 

“Your tits are fucking fantastic,” Keeley breathed staring at the deep cut V in the front of her dress. Natalia just laughed, rocking her head back.

Keeley quickly dismissed the young woman named Bex before having a quiet but heated discussion with Jamie. Roy was the next player to be auctioned off. It soon became clear that Keeley was now playing Jamie’s game from earlier at the auction. Frankly, Natalia was sick of it. Sick of seeing Roy being in the middle of it all. Plus, she wanted to have fun anyway. Right before Rupert auctioned off Roy to an old bitty who was promising to make his night one to remember, Natalia stood up with a paddle. “10,000 pounds,” Natalia proclaimed, the crowd quickly filled with commotion and whispers. Roy’s eyes widened underneath the spotlight. “Well, well,” Rupert smiled, a hint of distaste in his features as he realized who it was that bid, “Sold! To Miss Talia Forrest! Just a couple of Sunderland natives out on the town, then? Tell me, what does £10,000 unlock in the Roy Kent Dating Package?” 

“Who knows, but what else is a ‘washed up rockstar’ to do with all this royalty money? For the children, right Rupert?” Natalia quipped back, eliciting a scattering of chuckles in the audience, a challenge in her eyes, “Plus, Roy’s been put through enough having to consider a night with Cheryl over here. Hi there, Cheryl, darling.” 

“Natalia Forrest, everybody,” Rupert announced, “Don’t you hurt his ego too much,” gesturing to Roy to exit the stage. Roy promptly rushed off stage, moving at bullet speed, he stormed past the crowd as the auction came to a close. Without much acknowledgement, he grabbed Natalia by her arm, dragging her along with him. “Whoa, Roy–” Natalia stammered as he dragged her off to the quiet area of the abandoned sidebar. 

“Don’t fucking do that again,” Roy growled. 

Natalia’s eyes widened in shock, “Roy— I was just—“

“Between Keeley using me as some stupid fucking jealousy game with that prick and you auctioning out of fucking pity— I fucking hate it.” he bit out. 

“I-“ Natalia started, ready to be defensive. Instead she just looked at him. She hadn’t seen him in so long, and even though she wanted nothing more than to wrap him in a hug, she sighed, “I’m really sorry, Roy. I was just sick of Jamie and Keeley’s stupid fucking game.”

Roy took a moment, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deceit. But all he saw were big, apologetic soft green eyes staring back up at him. With heels, she only stood about 5’5”, but there was a time he remembered where they were roughly the same height. A pang of sadness pulled in his chest. 

“Thank you,” he nodded. 

As he turned to leave, Natalia caught his arm, “Roy wait.”

He paused, turning around to face her again, the feeling of her hand on his arm sent a long forgotten shock through his body. 

“You owe me a £10,000 date,” Natalia said smirking up at him, “So you better make it fucking worth it.” 

He gave a soft growl and stormed away. Natalia’s heart sank into her gut again as he disappeared. She was quickly distracted by the sound of Rebecca introducing a very last minute musical guest, a street busker, and she was immediately blown away by the young man’s performance. Natalia rushed into the crowd and bounced around to the music with who she was assuming was her team, and by the description Rebecca had given her earlier, danced hard with Coach Beard.

As the night wound to a close, Rebecca found Natalia speaking with Cam Cole, Ted, and Beard. Talia had just finished handing Cam a few business cards and took a photo with him for her personal social platforms to promote the performer when Rebecca approached. 

“Hello gentlemen,” Rebecca smiled nervously, “Natalia, I was- uhm- wondering if you would care to join me and–” 

“I’m fuckin’ in,” Talia responded.

“I didn’t even finish–”

“I will do anything with you,” Natalia reassured, “Plus, something tells me Keeley is involved.” Glancing over Rebecca’s shoulder to see Keeley trying to wave with two champagne bottles cradled in her arms.

Natalia turned back to the three men, “My chariot awaits gentlemen. It’s been a fuckin’ blast. Cam, please do give me a call, I see a lot of fucking potential in you.” 

“Jeez louise, Nat,” Ted laughed, “You swear just like Roy. Hey, have you met Roy?” 

“I have, Ted,” Natalia said a bit sharper than she meant, recovering, “I bid on him, remember?”

Beard gave Talia a pointed look and a feeling went down her spine. He seemed to know something “Anyways, see you lot around, yeah?” Natalia asked, hugging and leaving a kiss on each man’s cheek. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” Ted beamed, “It’d be fun to have you around more.” 

With that, Natalia dashed over to the increasingly impatient women and they found their way to a bike taxi where they squeezed close together and drank the night away. Once they had made it to Rebecca’s flat (which was one hell of a workout for that poor bicyclist), Natalia left him enough money to pay rent twice over and the three stumbled inside. “Get these bloody fucking things off me,” Rebecca groaned as she kicked off her heels, giving her ankles a soft rub. Keeley and Natalia soon follow.

“Shit I forgot how tiny you both are,” Rebecca laughed, “like a couple of elves.”

“Oi!” Keeley and Natalia yelled together. Immediately the two started cackling. 

Once the women had settled down, they drank away at the wine and all cozied up on Rebecca’s couch, which was somehow even more comfortable than the one in her office. In true teenage-girl-sleepover fashion, they all huddled around and turned on a movie that was quickly discarded for immediate gossip of the night.

“God, Rupert is such a dick,” Keeley groaned, throwing her head back.

“Amen,” Natalia drunkenly lifted her glass in agreement.

“Say,” Keeley swiveled, her big eyes a bit droopy, “What’s the deal with the $10,000 bid tonight.” 

Natalia was taken aback by the sudden switch in topic. “For the children?” She mumbled unconvincingly. 

“Oh bullshit,” Rebecca rolled her eyes, “£10,000?”

“Rebecca, when have I not thrown money out for donations?”

“Natalia,” Rebecca lightly challenged, a knowing look, and a raised brow, “Only when it benefits you.”

Fuck. Keeley gasped, “You wanna shag Roy!” 

She couldn’t tell which was the culprit, but between the sudden and drunken interrogation, and the obscene amount of alcohol running through her, she couldn’t help the faint blush that tinged the tip of her nose and ears. Keeley and Rebecca let out a couple of squeals jumping in their seats. Natalia quickly rolled her eyes, giving her the best scowl she could muster. After a moment, however, she softened, her fingers lighting dancing around the rim of her wine glass, eyes intently looking at her own movements.

“It’s not like that,” she mumbled, a soft smile on her lips. God, why do I go so soft around these two? Both other women noticed Natalia’s shift in demeanor. They also immediately scooted closer, worried but aching to know more. Talia gave a quick glance up to two pairs of very expectant eyes. With a sigh and a slight roll of her eyes, Natalia finally responded.

“Roy and I grew up together,” she admitted. It felt good to let someone else know. Their eyes widened at the new knowledge. Natalia continued, the liquor prompting the words, “Grew up in the same, shitty and rundown flats– the community would always joke that no matter how poor we all were, the place was magic to be able to produce two famous kids."

At this, Natalia let out a soft chuckle, mind a million miles away as she rambled on, “Due to both of us being just wee kids, we were expected to continue on in schooling. We were both put into the same tutoring system.” 

“Oh my god, childhood sweethearts!” Keeley squealed gently, earning a side look from Rebecca. 

Natalia responded with a dry laugh, “Hardly. A few years past and we were closer than ever,” she explained, “but then between Roy’s hard fuckin’ work paying off in the football clubs, and my music career exploding into my first tour, we drifted apart. I haven’t seen him since I was 16 during his debut game. The next time I saw him was today.” 

Rebecca and Keeley sat dumbfounded, and grateful that she was so open with them. They stared at Natalia dreamy-eyed with the childhood nostalgia. “But that ain’t the Roy Kent I fuckin’ know,” Talia stated. A deep sadness tugged at her gut, as she finished the rest of her wine. She shook her head, “Nah. The Roy I know was soft, and gentle, and always tried to make me laugh.” 

After a beat, Talia shrugged, looking at the time. Rebecca and Keeley had eventually received the message and they all proceeded to get ready for bed as they all managed to sleep quite comfortably in Rebecca’s bed. 

Roy laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t fucking sleep. Anytime he’d close his eyes, she should pop up behind his closed eyes. It was driving him fucking crazy. He growled, reaching over for his phone. He pulled her name up from his contacts and started to draft a message. He had tried and failed multiple times writing out something simple.

“Fuck it,” he growled, slamming his phone back onto the nightstand before rolling over and tried to force himself to sleep. Trainin’ is going to be a fucking bitch tomorrow.

[coolpointsetta]

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

everyone shares a glance, unable to really believe that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

[benedictscanvas]

Hi! I’m such a huge fan of your Ted Lasso fics! I completely agree that there’s not enough Roy Kent fics out there. I was wondering if I could request a fic where Roy has feelings for the physiotherapist on the team and she has feelings for him too, and he’s all upset after his final game because he won’t be able to see her anymore and he’s worried she’s upset because he undid all her hard work rehabbing his knee, but it’s all sweet and yearning. I know that’s a lot so if it’s not your thing, absolutely no worries!

i've been meaning to get to this one, because i really like it!! and i just want to thank you for ur support because ur user pops up a lot in my notifs and i appreciate you so much <3 also i've made up roy's injury and keeley is with jamie in this ahaha | 2k words (!!), tw language, hurt/comfort

Roy is barely holding himself together.

He sinks down onto the bench in the dressing room and stares straight away, eyes burning. It's like his whole body is on fire and he knows if he held his hand in front of his face, it would be shaking. He doesn't try it, instead curls his hands into fists, clenching the bench below him.

He's fucked it.

His knee. His career. His life. It had been coming, he knew, but he still expected to have a year or two left in him. Some time to come to terms with his whole world coming crashing down around him. Instead he does one stupid fucking tackle on Jamie fucking Tartt and now he's done. Even the crowd had known it. The thought of them chanting for him brings back a lump in his throat.

He sees a shadow at the door and hangs his head. Knows the outline of you too well to pretend it's anyone else. You've come to shout at him, or slap him around the face, or maybe mock him. Whatever it is, he doesn't want to hear it.

You enter silently other than the door clicking shut behind you, but Roy doesn't look up to greet you. He keeps his eyes on the floor.

"I don't-" he clears his throat when his voice comes out all hoarse. All wrong, "I don't want to hear it. I fucked it, I know, and I don't want to fucking hear it."

You don't respond, instead walking further over to him and crouching down in front of him. He'd waved you away on the pitch, surprised that you'd let him stand up and walk off. He didn't look back at you when he did, knowing all he'd see would be disappointment.

You've got your physio bag, he notices, and you're unzipping it, rifling through the contents.

"There's no point. Get out, Y/N," he tries again, voice more desperate this time, "Please."

"Would you just shut the fuck up?" you say suddenly, louder than the quiet room deserved. You sigh, at yourself it seems, but Roy is frozen in place. He'd prepared himself for you to come and shout at him, but still hadn't expected you to really do it. You never shouted.

Still, he did as he was told, because he was too stunned to argue with you.

You get an icepack on his knee immediately, grumbling under your breath but he can't make out the words. There's some gel that you rub on too, and that eases some of the pain he's in, not that he can bring himself to say thank you. When you've properly secured the icepack to his knee, you finally look up at his face.

"You might have hurt yourself more by refusing that stretcher, you twat," you spit out, and he can see the anxiety swirling across your whole face, "Why do you have to be so..."

You trail off, scoffing to yourself without finishing your sentence as your gaze drops back down to his knee. Roy is tired and in pain and frustrated - all three of which were reasons for not wanting to have this conversation right now.

"Reckless? Fucking stupid? Old as shit? It's just what I fucking am, alright? I couldn't let that shit score, and now it's over. Fucking all of it."

He hears his voice get small towards the end. You're back looking at him and shaking your head before he's even finished.

"For the season, yeah. Then we get back to fucking work, Kent. We can start you on the slow stuff, rebuild the strength. I can assess whether you'll need an op-"

"Y/N."

"Don't," you say harshly, pointing up at him, but there's a break in your voice he doesn't know what to do with, "You're not done."

"We both know that it's my fucking ACL. Two years recovery time, more 'cause I'm fucking ancient. It's over."

He sees the tears in your eyes then. Fuck. One minute he thought you were unbearably angry with him, now you were on the verge of crying? He felt slow in a whole new way, unable to keep up with where this was going.

"You've worked so fucking hard," you grind out, "It can't just...if I'd done more on your knee the last few weeks maybe...We knew it was a problem. I could have-"

It hits him like a freight train when he realises all your anger is directed at yourself. That you're blaming yourself, not him. He gulps, watches you staring off in the direction of Ted's office as your tears fall.

You've worked together ceaselessly this season. He needs a lot of treatment in a lot of areas nowadays, not that he likes to admit it. You've been there every step of the way, poking and prodding and kneading out every knot, but also laughing. Eating the occasional breakfast when he comes in early for you to work on him.

He's not sure he's ever been this into someone before. Where it's crept up on him slowly and then washed over him all at once - about a month ago when Phoebe visited Richmond. Seeing you with her was like seeing some kind of future he never thought he'd have.

He still didn't think he'd have it. This injury was proof enough that good things didn't have a habit of coming his way. It was why he'd kept quiet about it ever since he realised rather than pouring his heart out to you.

"Hey," he says gruffly, completely out of his depth, "You're blaming yourself? I thought you were fucking livid with me."

Your eyes shoot back to his despite their bloodshot nature. Despite the situation, he watches as you giggle in disbelief.

"Angry with you? When has that ever fucking happened?" you say wetly, wiping at your face with rough fingertips, "I'm your physio, Roy, I'm meant to prevent this shit. And fix it. And now I can't fucking do either."

A fresh wave of tears bubbles up over your eyelids and travels down your face as you let out a sob. It's the first time he thinks about another side effect of his career ending - he'll have to leave Richmond. All the people he's come to love, despite really not wanting to. That would include you.

With an instinct he didn't know he had, he reached out to tug on your hand. You looked up at him in surprise, but he helps to pull you up with a small groan when you don't really let him take any of your weight. He guides you to sit next to him on the bench, so you do, sniffling uncontrollably.

"You've done a fucking lot for me these last few years. Especially this season. Don't fucking beat yourself up about this. I'm the one who made the stupid tackle."

"He was through on goal. You stopped him."

"And it might not make a fucking difference."

"It might," you try, crying slowing down as you switch into protective mode. He's seen you do it many times, but it never fails to bring warmth to his face, "Look, if I can't beat myself up, neither can you. Let's just blame the fucking universe, yeah?"

He considers it. Sounds like a good way to vent his frustration without falling into a spiral of self-hatred, but it might also get you to stop crying which is all he wants in the fucking world at this moment.

"Fine. Fuck the universe."

"Fuck the universe," you agree, bumping your shoulder lightly into his own, "Now would you start crying, please, so I'm not the only one embarrassing myself?"

Roy smiles despite himself at that, happy when he turns your way and sees you smiling too.

"I'm going to cry later, in the privacy of my fucking home," he says, wrapping an arm around you because it feels like both the right time and the right place, "Like a normal fucking person."

"Fuck you," you laugh, wiping your chin with the back of your hand. Roy spots a stray tear on your collarbone and reaches to smudge it away without thinking. You shuffle closer to him, his arm still around you, and put your own hand on his thigh.

Roy's brain short-circuits.

"I'll be leaving," he says, sudden even to himself, "Can't fucking stick around if I'm not playing."

"I know," you say softly, tucking your head into his shoulder. He can't let his own head rest against yours, because he knows he'd get too comfortable. Knows he'd never want to move again.

He takes a moment. He knows what he wants to say, he's just not sure he can.

"I don't want to fucking leave," he gets out through gritted teeth, but he's left out the most important word.

You. I don't want to fucking leave you.

It's stuck in his throat as he peers down at the top of your head, still resting on him. He kicks himself inwardly when he can't get the extra word out before you start talking, index finger tracing gentle patterns just above his knee.

"Yeah, I don't want you to fucking leave either," you say, as if you're admitting something terrible. He can tell you're watching the movement of your own hand to avoid looking up at him. "You won't stick around, join the coaching staff?"

"Fuck no," he barks out, feeling you chuckle against his side, "I couldn't do that shit."

"You could," you insist, "But it's okay if you don't want to. I just thought maybe I could look after you if you did."

He tries to move away from you to look at your face with a smirk, but you stay rooted to the spot and stop drawing your patterns on his leg abruptly.

"Your knee! I meant look after your fucking knee, Jesus."

It's now or never. He's so sick of never saying what he fucking means around you, but if he can't do that, he'll settle for the next best thing.

"Do you make house calls?"

It's the worst line he's ever used. But you're here rather than watching the end of the match, and your head is on his shoulder, hand on his thigh. He wonders if maybe, his luck might be balancing out, if maybe you'll understand what he's trying and failing to say.

"Huh?"

He stifles his own chuckle at the confusion in your voice. Willing himself to just fucking do something, he takes your hand from his knee and holds it in his own, clasping on tightly. There's a spike in his heart rate when you grip his hand right back.

"I'm asking-" he begins, hoping you can't hear his heartbeat, "-if you do house calls. To look after my knee, and shit. Once I'm gone."

"Oh."

You've definitely understood his meaning. In past months, he'd be tearing his hair out over trying to read between the lines, probably taking it out on Ted or Jamie or Isaac or whoever was nearby to be shouted at. Now he's positive, as you cling to his hand, that you know what he's trying to say.

Even if he's not sure of your reaction yet, there's already a weight lifted from his chest. And whatever that fucking gel you put on his knee was, he hasn't felt the pain in it since.

"As a club physio, no," you answer slowly, but he knows that's not the end of your sentence, "No house calls. Also no going into the dressing room during a match, no putting numbing cream on an injury just cause you don't want a player in pain, no holding a player's hand."

He's grinning now. Maybe because you can't actually see him doing it, but then he locks in on something you've said amongst the floating feeling that's taken over his body.

"Wait, you put fucking numbing cream on me?"

"You're welcome," you retort, "My point is that I've clearly broken a few rules for you already. So, house calls it is. For the sake of your knee."

He squeezes your hand.

"For the sake of my fucking knee, yeah."

And because it doesn't feel so scary anymore, he puts his head on top of your own and reminds himself that he was going to cry later, not now. For now, with your hand lodged tightly in his own, he decides to think about that future he didn't think he'd ever get, instead.

---

please see this post if you would like to request your own roy/jamie drabble!! closing soon <3

[ofstarsandvibranium]

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

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

Prompt List

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded and continued to eat your lunch.

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

He looks up from his phone, "Yeah?"

"Do you like Valentine's Day?"

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

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

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

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

"Is it important to you?"

"Doesn't matter-"

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

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

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

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

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

[thetarttfuldickhead]

February, and whatever this is between them has been going on for too long.

The hesitant morning light is far too suggestive; too obvious by half the near-spring afternoons of endless gray.

“No one will care,” Jamie argues, scowling into Roy’s chest as Roy wraps his arms tighter around him. “I mean, not anyone we care about will.”

Roy doesn’t tell him he’s young, and naïve. Jamie are those things, and he’s been a footballer  for most of the life he can remember

He knows what’s at stake.

“It’s fucking bullshit, this,” Jamie says, when Roy doesn’t answer  and Jamie reads his silence for what it is.

(All those little pauses. The meanings. How did Jamie become fluent in them all?)

Roy holds him close. Wants his arms to tell him what his lips cannot, and wants Jamie  to let go of the breath he’s holding; wants the tension in his shoulders to dissapiate and fade.

“I fucking love you, you cunt,” Jamie says, and it’s not a sob, and Roys hopes that the way he presses a kiss to the crown of his hair is answer enough.

It’s the only answer he can give.

(For now.)

But, he thinks, as they curl around each other and drift towards the rest they will find:

It cannot fucking always be night.

[hopefulromances]

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, it is."

"Great, and I recorded this documentary on-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lunar-years]

For the first sentence of a fic thing:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Exactly!" Keeley says cheerfully.

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

Keeley's heads bobs up and down enthusiastically.

"And my trimmer is--?"

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

"...or not!" Jamie adds.

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

[queer-as-tartt]

“The fuck is this?”

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

Roy stares at the screen, silent.

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

“You know what, fuck it. Let's go.”

---

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

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

Roy scrolls through the list.

“Huh.”

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

Roy chuckles before freezing.

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

“...shut up.”

Jamie's notes for each song:

Pick U Up: Even though you pick me up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Final Countdown: Are we done yet???

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

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

@royjamiebingo

[peterpparkrr]

Series: Banter

Pairing: Roy Kent x f!Reader

Summary: You and Roy try to pretend your almost-date never happened.

Masterlist:

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6 - coming soon!

[kentdreaming]

Ribs: A Roy Kent Story

Series: Ribs Pairing: Roy Kent x OC Summary: Natalia Forrest and Roy Kent grew up together, with both growing dealing with child stardom, they grew apart. But now, with Natalia being minority owner of AFC Richmond, will these two find each other again after all these years? A/N: I'm seeing a severe lack of Roy Kent fics across most platforms. I'm serving my boy JUSTICE. -Also I'm madly in love with @peterpparkrr ‘s Roy Kent story Banter, it's so incredibly written and I foam at the mouth for each update! || Series List ||

(i got this gif off of google-- can't find credit!!)

Chapter 1

“Right then,” She said with a satisfied smirk, “I believe everything is squared away.”

The man in front of her, Rupert Mannion, held a smile, something patronizing and sinister lurking beneath, “Pleasure doing business with you, my dear.”

“I’m sorry, but I do believe your fiance is the one who was doing business with me,” The raven haired woman responded, quickly turning to the much younger woman to his right and shaking her hand, “It’s been a pleasure, my darling. Do take care of that precious little girl of yours!”

And with that, the woman slung her bag over her shoulder, and spun around, her curly locks flipping over her shoulder, “Toodles!” she sang as she swayed out of the room.

“I can’t believe I just sold my own share of a football club to Talia fucking Forrest.” 

— One year Prior —

Normally, Natalia wasn’t a nervous person. Rather, she was the type of woman to make others nervous. Yet here she was, clicking her heels across the hard floor of AFC Richmond’s clubhouse, her heart hammering in her chest. Rebecca Welton had sold her some shares of AFC Richmond right after her divorce to royal dickhead, Rupert Manion, making her a minority owner of the club; and as much as Natalia loved football and Rebecca, she was nervous about running into someone in particular. 

Her wavy black hair fluffed out around her face, her thick black sunglasses hiding her green eyes. She glanced around her as she made her way towards Rebecca’s office, the hallways buzzing with excitement and gawking glances as she would pass. God, can this walk take any longer, she thought as she ascended the stairs to Ms. Welton’s office, Finally. With a deep breath, Natalia gripped the handle and walked in, offering a small knock as she opened the door. As she opened the door to her office she was greeted with a seemingly very flustered Rebecca in a plush robe, an always frazzled Higgins, and a face she hadn’t yet seen before. Rebecca stepped to the side and lit up when Natalia entered. “God your tits are amazing,” Natalia blurted, eyes going directly to Rebecca’s chest. The gentlemen both cleared their throats and seemed to look anywhere but her chest. “Right, sorry.” “Talia Forrest,” Natalia introduced, reaching out her sharply manicured hand out to the stranger, “minority owner, semi-successful child star turned rock enthusiast and entrepreneur, pleasure.” “Well hi there, I’m Ted Lasso, fresh face on this side o’ the pond,” the man named Ted greeted, his American accent startled Natalia for a moment. The warmth of his voice melting right into her heart creating a soft comfort to her. “Rebecca, you smuggled an American over here?” Talia laughed, a light jab at the two of them. Rebecca laughed nervously, eyes shifting toward the men and back to Talia. “I’m fucking with you, love,” Natalia soothed, “But I do think it’s high time for you chaps to be off, toodles!” She ushered the men out of the door, closing it behind them.

“So,” Natalia sighed, flopping back into the cushions, arms draping over the back of the couch, “I guess this is what all my money has gone to. This gorgeous office and this wardrobe?”

Rebecca’s cheeks flooded with embarrassed blush fiddling with the rack of terribly expensive gowns. Natalia clicked her tongue and got up from her spot on the couch and walked over to Rebecca. She reached up and held onto Rebecca’s face. “You look at me, you tall, strong, impeccable woman,” Natalia said sternly, “You are fit and worthy, these dresses are bloody well lucky to be hugging that gorgeous body of yours. Now let's find the one, yeah?” Rebecca let out a shaky breath and nodded her head, “Thank you.” She whispered, before shaking it off and standing a bit straighter. “Do you want a drink, love?” Natalia asked, making herself comfortable at the minibar in Rebecca’s office. 

“A glass of wine, please,” Rebecca nodded, holding onto a golden dress. After pouring herself a whiskey, she handed the wine glass over to Rebecca. “That’s a gorgeous gown, but she’s wearing you, love. We can do better than that, yeah?” “God, why is this so difficult?” Rebecca sighed, a soft whine underneath. “Honestly, woman,” Natalia groaned, rolling her head back. “You’re right, I’m sorry– It’s just–” Rebecca rambled, “It’s just that Rupert–” Natalia got up from her spot after slamming her drink, and stomped her way towards the taller blonde woman.

“Rupert is a right slimy cock, Rebecca. It’s about time you knew it,” Talia said forcefully. “You no longer get to let him dictate your life. This is your event, and you deserve to be the goddess that you are.” She began to shift through the dresses on her own. “Here,” Natalia said matter of fact, “This one will blow everyone away, plus it shows off those sexy arms of yours.” 

Rebecca held the gown up to her, admiring the fabric. A sigh of relief and an emptying of a wine glass, and Rebecca seemed to be a whole new woman. A curt nod and she placed the dress in a garment bag. “Right,” Rebecca smiled, “I actually called you here to ask if you would like to be my plus one to the charity gala tonight?” Natalia growled, flinging her head back in exasperation, “Rebecca, you know I don’t–” “Please, Nat,” Rebecca begged, “It’s for the children…” Nat curled an eyebrow and crossed her arms, “Rebecca…” “Nat, this is my first time doing this without Rupert, and I’m just so bloody nervous! Plus, you’ve been a minority owner, it’s about time you show your face around here.” “You know I don’t fuck with the press,” Nat responded firmly, her brows furrowed deep over her eyes. She softened after a moment, “But… I will go to support another incredible woman.” Rebecca’s eyes lit up and she squeezed the smaller woman into a head-popping hug. “Thank you,” Rebecca sighed. “Suppose I need to pick a dress for the night, then,” Natalia quipped while shooting her a pointed look. 

—

Later.

—

Cameras. So many fucking cameras were flashing, Natalia hated it. She stepped out of the car behind Rebecca, leaving her big sunglasses on. Her hair was styled to look even more wild than natural. She wore a forest green off-the-shoulder gown with a slit up the skirt that went all the way up to her hip. Her tattoos and scattering of freckles covered her pale skin. She made her way towards the red carpet, following Rebecca. As she made her way toward the line for photographs, Natalia was shouldered rather hard by another person walking by. “Oi–” “Watch it!” The two voices barked in unison. Green eyes locked with brown. Natalia could have sworn her heart leaped into her throat and then directly plummeted into her lower belly. The man that towered before her, straightened up a little more. His all black suit caused him to look even larger than he was. “Hi, Roy.” 

[coolpointsetta]

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

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

that’s a lie. it always is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

the third stair creaks as someone steps on it.

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

“what are you doing?”

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

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

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

oh.

okay.

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

alone with you.

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

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

”When will you learn?”

from this prompt game

“When will you learn?”

Jamie glared at Roy in response. It would have been much more effective if he hadn’t been trembling with chills despite the mound of blankets covering him.

“I’m fine, Coach.”

“Passing out on the pitch is not fine, Jamie.”

“I didn’t pass out. I chose to lie down.”

“In the middle of a drill?”

“It seemed like good a place as any,” Jamie shrugged, and his teeth started chattering. 

Roy shook his head as he pulled off Jamie’s boots, guiding him into his slides and standing. 

“Alright, you Muppet. Let’s get you home and warm in bed.”

[fanficfanattic]

Day 5 "You better pray I don't get up this time around."

Debris | Pinned Down | "It's broken.”

In a perfect storm, Jamie sees Roy’s niece in the aisle as he feels the terrifying swoop of the coach hydroplaning. The same instinct that leads to scoring prompts him to snatch her from the air. There’s neither silence nor stillness after the crash. Beard shouts last names then numbers. Tom’s crying, Ash is trying to shush him, but Jamie can’t understand why everything seems off, until Roy bellows for Phoebe. She’s crying too hard to answer, so he yells for her but Roy can’t hear over his own shouts. “Oi! Granda! I’ve got her!”

They’re pinned but they’re alive.

[goodmorninglovelies42]

Have a little drabble that may or may not go into something longer…

——————

“Fuck no.” Roy growled, leaving no room for argument.

Or so he thought.

“Come on, Roy, please? You’d look dead sexy in them,” Jamie wheedled.

“Yeah, babe. I mean you’re proper fit already, but these just add to it,” Keeley jumped in.

“I said I’d do it. Why do I have to wear a tweed jacket with elbow patches and fucking glasses?” He was close to a whine now, himself.

“It’s what a professor would wear, innit?”

“And how would you know that, Jamie? None of us fucking would, honestly.”

“I watch films, don’t I?” Jamie’s tone was wounded.

“Come on Royo. Get in the spirit, yeah? Sexy professor and naughty students. Gotta get into costume.” Keeley and Jamie both turned those pleading eyes on him, and honestly, he was helpless in the face of that.

“Fine.” He grabbed the clothes and stomped off to the en-suite. “But the two of you better be in character and ready when I get back.”

[thetarttfuldickhead]

But there are other mornings, slow, off-season, when training is not forgotten but seems a far away thing, less important—

Keeley wakes first, maybe, and luxuriates in having both of them there with her, arms and legs and Jamie half draped over her and Roy’s chest pressed against her back. Warmth, in the dawning summer light; quiet, before the day has yet to claim them.

Roy then, shifting and stretching into wakefulness, one moment gone and the next one there. She feels it in the way his arm tightens around her and she twists her neck to meet his gaze and his hand on her face is too soft a thing for a man whose eyes burn this hot she thinks but she leans into the touch all the same, and she smiles.

Jamie, at last, flopping over on his back with a oomphf and a sigh and then blinking awake. He takes a moment to take in his surroundings before popping up on his elbow, grinning down at them, so very bright: “Hello.”

She reaches for him and he leans down to meet her lips with his own even as he wraps his arm around Roy’s shoulder to pull him closer.

Roy goes without a fight; his hand finds hers.

It’s early morning, June, and she’s home.