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eggcompany · 9 months ago

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Fanfic Masterlist (Oneshots)

Smuts are marked with 🔴 NonSmuts are marked with 🔵

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MultiChapter Masterlist

Supernatural

Mtf Castiel x Ftm Dean - Momma's Got a HUGE Cock 🔴

Cas and Dean get Deaged - Kids Who Were Never Children 🔵

Nonbinary Gabriel x Little! Sam 🔵

Little Cas (With Daddy Dean) 🔵

Gabriel x Nonbinary Sam - Getting Ready For A Date 🔵

High School AU - Dean x Benny - Dean x Cas 🔴

Trans! Castiel x Dean - Modern AU

Sherlock

A/B/O - Omega Sherlock x Beta John 🔴

Catboy! Sherlock meets John's friend Lestrade 🔵

Sick/Comfort - Sick Sherlock x John 🔵

Little Sherlock x Daddy John - Brat Sherlock 🔴

Omega John x Omega Sherlock 🔴

The Witcher

Lactating Geralt x Jaskier 🔵

Modern AU - Chubby Jaskier x Fit Geralt 🔵

Sensitive Geralt x Jaskier 🔴

Stomachache Geralt x Comforting Jaskier 🔵

Hannibal/HEU

Adam x Nigel- Corner Store Peepshow 🔴

A/B/O - Female!Hannibal x Will x Adam x Nigel x Duncan 🔴

Female! Hannibal x Will- Pain In The Ass 🔴

Will x Duncan, Will x Adam and Nigel- A/B/O 🔴

Young! Hannibal x Will - Starlight Boy 🔴

Dogboy AU- Puppy! Will x Duncan 🔴

Dogboy Will x Hannibal 🔴

Sub Will x Dom Hannibal - Lingerie 🔴

Little! Will x Daddy Hannibal 🔵

Marvel

Little! Bucky and (Temporary) Caregiver Sam and Thor 🔵

Shy Sub Peter x Daddy Tony - Stealing Clothes 🔴

Bucky and Thor - Friendship - Tower Life 🔵

Sub Bucky x Daddy Steve 🔴

Omega Bucky Gets Helped by Doctor Strange 🔴

Tired Tony x Stephan 🔵

Trans Bucky x Steve - College AU- Does it Matter? 🔴

The Hobbit

Trans! Kili x Tauriel - Voyeurism - A Lovely Man 🔴

Sick/Comfort - Sick Thranduil, Caring Legolas 🔵

Fatherly Thranduil and Depressed Legolas 🔵

Legolas and The Hobbits - Cuddling 🔵

Thranduil and Legolas - Attention seeking Legolas 🔵

Hurt Kili x Curious Tauriel 🔵

Little (prisoner) Kili x Caring/Fatherly Thranduil 🔵

Castlevania

Virgin! Alucard x Trevor x Sypha - Wagon Fucking 🔴

Alucard x Trevor x Sypha - Trevor's Birthday Present 🔴

Trans! Alucard x Sypha/Trevor - Stomach Cramps 🔴

Gotham

Ed x Oswald- Trans! Oswald AU- Bleeding Gold, My Love 🔴

Ed x Oswald- Neighbors AU- Neighbors to Fucking 🔴

Ed x Oswald- Asylum Oswald x Office Worker Ed 🔴

Ted Lasso

Dog Hybrids - Roy x Jamie - What a Nasty Little Mutt 🔴

A/B/O - Alpha Roy x Beta Jamie 🔴

MHA/BNHA

A/B/O- Bakugou, Hizashi and Aizawa - Baby Bakugou's First Heat 🔵

Littles Are Known - Little! Bakugou, Hizashi and Aizawa 🔵

The Man From U.N.C.L.E.

Gabby x Illya x Napoleon - Big Baby 🔵

Illya x Sad Napoelon 🔵

Hurt/Comfort - Illya x Napoleon 🔵

The Umbrella Academy

Sub Diego x Dom Eudora - DIego's a Good Dog 🔴

Depressed Diego - Comforting Klaus 🔵

Teen Wolf

Drag Performer Stiles x Derek - Femininomenon 🔴

The Punisher/Daredevil

Hurt Matt - Comforting Karen - Poor Vigilante 🔵

Dead Boy Detectives

Edwin x Cat King - No Sex 🔴

Edwin x Cat King - Have Pity, Poor Kitty 🔴

Others

Pushing Daises - Ned x Chuck - Caught Masturbating 🔴

Alex Genya (Jon Bernthal) x Daryl Dixon - A/B/O 🔴

Twilight x Supernatural - Littles Are Known 🔵

NCIS - Littles Are Known - Little! Tony, Timothy, Ziva 🔵

#egg_company #fanfic #smut tag #masterlist #fanfiction #destiel #geraskier #hannigram #spacedogs #nygmobblepot #johnlock #sterek #stucky #starker #royjamie #dead boy detectives #twilight

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hesherehesthere · 3 days ago

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Goddamn, This Bastard I Am

Author's Note: This is the "I project heavily onto Roy" fic I've been threatening for a while now. I finally wrote the damn thing and made myself sick over it in the process. Enjoy!

Ao3 Link: (X)

Summary: Roy reflects on various events from canon while Jamie and Keeley are in Brazil.

The ticking of the clock on the wall seems to increase in volume with every passing second, the sound burrowing its way underneath Roy’s skin.

Roy sits on the couch of his house, unable to tear his eyes from it. He holds a glass of whisky in one hand, his pointer finger swiping along the rim in an absentminded fidget. Jamie and Keeley had just left on their trip to Brazil for Jamie’s Nike sponsorship, and he hadn’t been able to focus on anything else.

Jamie has been texting him updates over the past hour or so, seemingly unphased by how royally Roy had fucked up. That, or he’s pretending. Jamie was good at pretending.

Prick act, his brain says.

At least Keeley was still upset with him, as she should be.

His phone lights up and vibrates beside his leg, and Roy allows his eyes to wander over to the screen. There is a preview of an image, and a heavy sigh escapes him as he grabs the phone from the couch and unlocks it.

A picture of Jamie greets him; the other man is sitting in a chair near the airport gate, face flushed from apparent exertion, and his tongue is stuck out.

‘made it to our gate’, is the message that accompanies it, but Roy can’t tear his eyes away from the photo. He can just make out a hint of bright pink and long blonde hair in the corner of the frame, though Jamie has mostly cropped Keeley out of the photo. Roy wonders if it was Jamie or Keeley who had insisted on that.

Probably both of them.

He groans, turning his phone off and taking a long drink from his glass. He drops his head against the back of the couch and stares at the ceiling.

You really fucked it up now, Kent.

The voice in his head is loud, pounding like a headache and thrumming through every inch of his body.

Probably one of the only good things in your life and you fucked it.

He didn’t know when he had started thinking about Jamie as something good, instead of a vehicle for his own self-hatred, but at some point, he had.

In a moment of clarity, he realizes he never answered Jamie’s text, snatching his phone from the couch a second later. He swipes it open and responds with a thumbs up. As soon as the message is sent, his stomach begins to tie itself up in knots as he stares at the exchange. He groans again, locking the phone and tossing it out of arm’s reach.

Don’t know what he sees in you. You can’t even carry on a basic fucking conversation.

From where Roy had tossed his phone, it vibrates again, and Roy considers leaving it. However, every second he ignores Jamie feels like another fight he’s fucking instigating. It eventually gets to him. He shuffles to the side, leaning over to snatch the phone, slightly sloshing his drink in the process.

‘you should have come with us, coach.’

Roy is still processing that when a second text follows.

‘could have yelled at me to keep pace, maybe we wouldn’t have been so close to being late’

A complicated mix of emotions swirls through Roy at the message.

The voice in his head uses that confusion to pounce.

You really are a fucking bastard. He thinks the only reason you like being around him is to yell at him.

He’s typing out a response to the message before he knows what he’s doing.

‘You’re better off without me there.’

Jamie leaves him on read.

---

Roy’s eyes scan over Jamie, who is seated on the other side of the booth. Traces of blood are still present on his face and hoodie, mapping out the memory of where Roy had hit him.

His own shirt feels breezy from where Jamie had torn it, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Dragging Jamie to his kebab place had seemed the most sincere form of apology he could think of as they had stood on Keeley’s front porch, but he hadn’t considered the way it would make him feel to actually have Jamie sat across from him.

What the fuck were you thinking?

Roy wants to apologize, to Jamie, and to Keeley, but he can’t figure out how to do it in a way that doesn’t feel like putting a bandage on an open wound thrice the size of it.

Jamie isn’t looking at him as he eats, the chicken kebab Roy probably would have ordered for him anyways almost halfway gone. Roy still hasn’t touched his.

The silence between them feels heavy, like a physical weight on Roy’s shoulders, but Jamie doesn’t seem to be as affected as he is. That, or he’s really good at pretending.

No one knew what was going on with his dad for fucking ages, of course he’s good at pretending. Don’t you remember the whole prick act?

Roy clears his throat, trying to force down his racing thoughts. Jamie glances up at him momentarily, but when he realizes that Roy doesn’t have anything to say, he goes back to his kebab.

It was your fucking idea to go to Keeley’s in the first place, the voice in his head reminds him for the thousandth time.

He’s a better man than you. You just had to go and drag him down with you.

Roy huffs, grabbing his kebab and taking a vicious bite, as if that would somehow shut up the voices playing on repeat in his head.

You tricked him, you know. You saw how fucking excited he was to go for a drink with you. But you had to go and open your goddamn mouth. You should have just let it go.

Roy knows he should have let it go, this fucking voice of guilt didn’t need to keep bringing it up.

“You alright in there, coach?” Jamie’s voice cuts through the haze of Roy’s thoughts, and he snaps his eyes up to look at him from where he now realizes he had been glaring at the table.

“Huh?”

“You looked like you wanted to kill your kebab. I know they’re like, unreasonably good, but-”

“I’m fine.”

An unreadable expression passes across Jamie’s face at Roy’s bluntness, but Roy can’t bring himself to apologize.

Jamie stares at him for a few seconds, seemingly putting his thoughts together. “We fucked up tonight,” Jamie says finally. Roy growls, an attempt at a warning to get Jamie to stop talking, but the other man continues despite the threat of more hostile noises. “We fucked up,” Jamie repeats. “But we can’t change what we did. We can only apologize and try to be better in the future.”

Roy gapes, eyes widening slightly as he tries desperately to keep up.

See, told you. Definitely a better man.

“Right,” Roy says instead, his voice a deep growl as he shakes his head, following it up with another bite of his kebab.

He needs another drink.

---

Jamie continues to text him over the following week.

Most of the time, it isn’t anything to write home about. Jamie texts him a variety of stream of consciousness messages, and Roy responds with one-word answers.

Jamie will ask if he’s allowed to eat or drink certain things, and Roy will respond with reasonable answers. Jamie pouts. Roy can’t see it, but he knows Jamie is doing it.

But then.

Jamie sends him photos from the Nike shoot.

It’s late and Roy is sitting in bed, newest novel in his hands, when his phone lights up with the message. He sets the book against his chest and opens his phone.

The photos are accompanied by a flurry of mentions of disclosure agreements and pleading with Roy not to leak anything.

‘you can’t show anyone yet’, Jamie texts. ‘i shouldn’t be showing you yet either, but you’re my coach, so it should be fine’

As if Roy would even want to share them with anyone.

He feels a surge of possessiveness flare inside of him as he taps on one of the photos to enlarge it. He starts to swipe through the assortment, his eyes locked to the screen. They start off harmless enough, but Jamie looks breathless, and they seem to have oiled him up to replicate the gleam of sweat.

In one of the photos, Jamie’s shirt is pulled up to wipe some of the fake sweat from his brow, his sculpted torso on full display.

Roy can feel his face beginning to warm as he stares at the photo, tongue heavy in his mouth.

‘Are these ads for Nike or a porno?’ Roy messages Jamie, but quickly scrolls back in their exchange to enlarge the photo again. He feels the first pang of guilt for looking at Jamie like this, but he already hates himself.

What’s one more log on the fire?

‘they know what the people want ;P’ The message from Jamie appears at the top of his screen, and Roy swipes it away.

His eyes scan over the lines of Jamie’s body- his defined abs and biceps, tits and waist that Roy finds himself wanting to grab. His arse is hidden due to the angle of the photo, and Roy thinks it’s a shame; it would be the perfect photo otherwise.

You’re a fucking creep. The voice in his head is back. Punch him over Keeley and then objectify him when he’s not around.

Roy closes his eyes tightly, sucking in a heavy, shaky breath as he tries to pull himself together. Despite his best efforts, he can feel his cock starting to stir in his shorts and he winces.

His phone vibrates in his hand, and Roy opens his eyes to see another message from Jamie at the top of his screen. ‘do i look good, coach?’

Fuck it.

In a moment’s time Roy bookmarks his novel and sets it to the side, storyline he had once been following long forgotten.

He shoves his shorts down enough to palm himself over his boxers, head tipping back against the headboard as he stares at the ceiling and tries to come to terms with the fact that this is what he’s doing. It wouldn’t be the first time he thought about getting off to Jamie Tartt, but it’s the first time he’s ever followed through.

After a few moments of composing himself, his eyes flick to his phone once again. The screen has gone dark, and he quickly unlocks it once more. He lets himself drink in the photo that is the source of his grief.

Do I look good, coach?

The words swirl through his mind as he stares at the photo, echoing in his head in a familiar voice as he finally pushes past his boxers to wrap a hand around himself properly.

Look bloody fucking gorgeous, Roy thinks to himself. Fucking unreal. And all thanks to me.

Another surge of guilt and an unknown emotion (pride? possessiveness?) flood through Roy’s body.

He fucking did that himself, you self-centered bastard. He would have done it with or without you. You think your bossing him around and yelling at him gives you the right to claim that?

Roy growls a bit under his breath, shaking his head, but swipes through the photos to another that shows his arse more prominently.

That first day that Roy showed up for their morning training and Jamie hard greeted him at the door, naked from the waist down, haunts his dreams. Even back then he thought that he might have liked to fuck him.

His hand works steadily over his cock, visions of an imaginary Jamie pleading with Roy to let him come merging with the reality of the photos in front of him.

Jamie really was a good boy when it came down to it. He would pout and complain, but always followed Roy’s instructions. If he wasn’t sure what Roy wanted, he would ask.

Even while he was away on his trip with Keeley, he was still reaching out to Roy, making sure that he was pleasing him.

You don’t fucking deserve that kind of devotion, Kent. The fuck have you done for him? Made him feel like shit?

Roy grasps at the hope that the echoing thoughts would cause his body to calm down, so that he won’t have to deal with the repercussions of jacking off over one of his players, but unfortunately his cock doesn’t get the message.

He comes not long after with the imaginary sound of Jamie’s voice, high pitched and begging, mixing with his looping thoughts of guilt.

It takes him another five minutes to recover from the intensity of the orgasm, before he pulls his phone out once more.

‘They look good.’

---

The windmills are beautiful.

Jamie is beautiful.

The thought hits Roy like a bomb going off, and his brain struggles to keep up with its sheer explosiveness.

Jamie looks over at him. He is leant forward on the handlebars of the bike, his face somehow both soft and completely lit up in joy.

Time freezes.

When they had arrived in Amsterdam, Roy all worked up in knots over Keeley moving on, this was not how he had expected to spend his night.

He had expected to spend his time yelling at Jamie, telling him what to do while Jamie whined and pouted, but listened just the same. Instead, he had been dragged all over the city and forced onto a bike, vomiting all of his thoughts and trauma, all of which was encouraged by the sheer overwhelming nature of being close to Jamie Tartt.

No, not Jamie Tartt.

Jamie.

Jamie Tartt was someone different- an imaginary figure in Roy’s head- someone that he used as a scapegoat for all of his anger.

Jamie was just Jamie.

Jamie was who he was here with tonight, and Jamie was the person that Roy had been spending every morning with for the past several months.

Jamie Tartt was the person he had yelled at in the bus, but Jamie was the person he had received in return.

“Windmill,” Jamie says simply, waving his hand in the direction of the structure. “See? Told ya they were real.” There is a cheeky sort of grin on his face, his eyes lit up in mischief as he pokes the bear.

Roy can’t find it in himself to be bothered.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “Windmill.”

“Well? Beautiful, ain’t it?”

You’re beautiful.

“Yeah. I guess.”

Jamie giggles, and the sound of it spreads a warmth through Roy’s body in a way he didn’t think possible. “You don’t have to be so old and grumpy all the time, you know,” Jamie says, and he glances back towards the windmill himself. “It’s okay to admit you were wrong.”

There’s a hint of teasing to the other man’s voice, and Roy waits for the anger to start pricking at his skin.

For whatever reason, it never comes.

“Alright,” Roy finally concedes. “I was wrong. They’re beautiful.”

There’s a slight hint of shock to Jamie’s features as he turns back to Roy, but it quickly softens to something lighter and sweeter. “Good. I’m glad you like ‘em.” He pauses for a second, seemingly turning something over in his head. “Come on,” he says finally. “Follow me.”

Before Roy is even able to comprehend the words, Jamie takes off like a shot, and Roy curses under his breath. He was able to get the hang of the bicycle well enough, but starting so quickly is something he still hadn’t mastered.

Eventually he manages to get the bike moving, trying desperately to keep up. He feels a little silly, but after the initial word vomit of an exchange, Jamie hadn’t laughed at him and had been nothing short of encouraging.

He finally manages to catch up to Jamie, his breath coming out in harsh little pants, when something happens. The wheel must hit a rock, or at least that’s the excuse he makes for himself as he loses his balance, cursing loudly as he veers off to the side before falling to the ground.

Luckily, he lands mostly in a soft cushion of grass and moss. His face burns red in shame as he lays sprawled out on his back, staring up into the covering of trees.

Several moments pass before Jamie’s face appears in his line of vision, an amused smirk playing across his features. “Hey, I mean, you made it pretty far before totally wiping out.”

“Fuck you,” Roy replies, but there isn’t any heat behind the words as he pushes himself into a sitting position.

Once the embarrassment passes, he realizes that the bike is sitting slightly off to the side. Jamie shoves it out of the way with his foot as he crouches down next to Roy. “You fucked up the bike pretty bad, coach. Dunno if you’re gonna be able to ride it anymore.”

He is closer to Roy then, his face barely a breath’s width away, and Roy feels his own breath catch in his throat.

“Hit a rock,” Roy mutters under his breath, and amusement lights up Jamie’s features.

“Of course you did, coach,” Jamie replies, and then his hands are on Roy’s thighs. The touch feels like fireworks to Roy’s flustered brain, and his ability to think immediately flies out the window.

“Let me check and make sure you aren’t hurt nowhere,” Jamie says, and his hands reach for Roy’s sides. “Tell me if anything hurts.” With that, Jamie begins to press over Roy’s skin in short, firm bursts, hands moving to different areas as the seconds passed.

If Roy didn’t know any better, he would have said Jamie was looking for an excuse to feel him up.

“I’m fine,” Roy finally manages to choke out, but the words feel forced. He finds it hard to breathe when Jamie looks up, locking their eyes. Traces of a smile tug at Jamie’s lips.

Roy wants to kiss him.

Roy really, really wants to kiss him.

He pushes the thoughts down as quickly as they come. It wouldn’t be fair to Jamie, who is so young and kind and full of hope, to be dragged down by someone like Roy.

Besides, you’re probably just worked up about Keeley.

Yeah, that’s it.

He’s just worked up about Keeley, and it would using Jamie to kiss him, no matter how desperately his brain is trying to tell him otherwise.

Luckily, after a few moments, Jamie seems to be content that Roy isn’t too badly damaged, and he scoots backwards a bit, putting some distance between their faces and giving Roy room to focus.

“Well, you look alright,” Jamie says. “Even if your head seems a bit fucked up. You don’t have a concussion, do you?”

“I’m fine,” Roy says, instinctively. “I don’t have a concussion.”

Jamie nods, seemingly satisfied with that answer. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on you anyways. Someone’s got to.” He stands up as he speaks, glancing mournfully at the bike that lays off to the side. “You really did do a number on this, though.”

He thinks for a moment, before his face lights up again. “Alright,” he says. There’s a giddiness to his tone that makes dread begin to settle in Roy’s gut. “I have an idea. Stand up.”

Roy pushes himself to his feet as Jamie mounts his bike, which is luckily still intact.

“You can sit behind me,” Jamie says brightly, scooting forward on the bike seat so there are a mere few inches behind his arse. “You grab onto my waist, and I bring us back to the bus.”

Roy groans, his mind racing as he tries to come up with an alternative. When nothing comes, he eventually sighs, perching himself on the couple of inches left after Jamie has seated himself

Once Roy’s arm is solidly slung around Jamie’s waist and they are sitting far too close to comfort, Jamie starts moving.

This is going to be a long ride.

---

What Roy doesn’t expect to receive is a text from Keeley.

The contents of said text make even less sense.

‘Fucking answer Jamie’s texts, Roy.’

Roy blinks in confusion at the message before his brows furrow deeply. He swipes back to his message thread with Jamie. The very bottom of the photos from the Nike shoot are at the top of the screen, and a fresh wave of guilt washes through him before he manages to push it down.

Underneath it were a couple of different texts, but Roy had responded. Not in depth or complicated responses, but that was to be expected.

He swipes back to Keeley’s message. ‘I have been responding. Did he say I wasn’t?’

Anxiety hits him in a wave, and he flicks the switch on the side of his phone, turning off silent mode.

‘He says you’re tolerating him. He keeps trying to start conversations, and you’re stopping them before they go anywhere. He thinks you’re mad at him.’

Panic rises inside of Roy in a matter of seconds. He had been doing everything in his power to ensure that Jamie didn’t think he was upset, and he’d somehow gone and fucked it up anyways.

‘I’m not mad at him.’

‘Then tell him that, not me. I’m tired of being the middleman.’

Roy stares at the text for a minute longer. He couldn’t say that he blamed her. In fact, he fully expected that Keeley would never want to speak to him again after the stunt that he and Jamie had pulled at her house.

Mostly you, though.

‘I’m sorry,’ he texts back.

‘Just fix it, Roy. He’s really fucked up over you.’

Keeley would know better than anyone how it felt to be fucked over by Roy’s bullshit, and he feels the twist of guilt he always does when he thinks about how the two of them had ended. Now he was doing the same thing to Jamie.

‘I’m not mad at you.’ He sends the text before he can second guess it, before he can turn the words over in his head until they spill out his ears. ‘I’ve just been busy.’

Liar. You haven’t been doing anything except wallowing in self fucking pity.

Roy stands to his feet as he waits for a reply, heading towards the kitchen in an idle pace. He grabs a beer from the fridge, the lid of the bottle hissing at him as he opens it. He understands. He’d hiss at himself too.

The ding of his phone brings his attention out of his own thoughts.

‘keeley told you ;-;’

Another message follows a few seconds later.

‘i’m sorry. told her it was fine’

‘But I’m not mad at you.’ Roy is surprised he doesn’t break the screen of his phone with how aggressively he’s hitting it with his thumbs.

‘it’s fine if you are’

‘Well, I’m fucking not. I just have a lot on my mind. But I’m not mad.’

You’re not mad at him, the voice in his head reminds him, and Roy grinds his teeth. But you know you’re a shit person. Everyone is worse off after you’ve been in their lives. You fucking hurt everyone.

He takes a long swig of his beer, staring at the screen.

Fuck it.

‘You’ve been whining about wanting me to see the room. Fucking face time me then.’

His phone lights up with the incoming call a few seconds later.

For a second, he regrets all of the life choices he’s made that have led him to this point. Then he hits accept, and Jamie’s beaming face greets him on the screen.

“Hi, coach,” he chirps, and he grins at the screen. “Never thought you’d miss me so much you’d want to face time me.”

“Shut up,” he mutters, but he can’t ignore the way his heart flutters at seeing Jamie so happy. “If your suite is so fucking great, show it to me then.”

Jamie continues to beam as he does so, flitting around from room to room, alternating from showing his own face to various wide shots of the room.

Finally, the room tour nears an end. “Oh, and here’s Keeley,” Jamie says, flipping the camera to show her. He squishes in close to her side so they’re both on screen, and Keeley’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Hi, Roy,” she says, and her voice is slightly tighter than Roy would like. He can feel himself wanting to hang up, to run away from the whole situation, but he forces a smile anyways.

“Hi, Keeley. Good trip?”

Her face softens a bit at the question, and she glances over at Jamie, who is watching her expectantly. “Yeah,” she says, finally. “It’s been nice. Even nicer now that Jamie’s not pouting so much.”

Roy watches as a red flush works its way over Jamie’s cheeks and down his neck, disappearing under the neckline of his shirt. Roy can’t help but wonder how far down it goes.

“I wasn’t pouting,” Jamie insists, making Keeley and Roy chuckle in unison.

“You do pout,” Roy says, voice warm in a way he wasn’t expecting. “Don’t worry, it’s cute.” He blinks in surprise at the words that came out of his own mouth, and he feels the heat rushing to his own face as Jamie’s deepens.

Keeley only watches them curiously.

“I- have to fucking go,” Roy finally manages to choke out. “But I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” He hits the button to end the call before either Jamie or Keeley can say much to protest.

Way to fucking go, Kent.

---

This was for the fucking best.

Roy had to tell himself that this was for the fucking best, or he’d yell.

Fuck, he still might fucking yell.

Keeley was busy, and he was busy, and it just wasn’t going to work.

That’s not why. You’re fucking jealous of her success. No fucking confidence in yourself. She deserves so much fucking better than you. A fucking broken-down ex-footballer that can’t love her the way she deserves.

The words play on repeat in his head as he recites the script he’d prepared. They were busy, it would be better for both of them if they broke up.

He tries to ignore the shattered expression on Keeley’s face as he forces out the carefully chosen words through gritted teeth.

She’s better off without you.

---

“I’m just always fucking everything up, aren’t I?” Roy says, glaring at the floor. Doctor Fieldstone sits across from him, her face carefully neutral.

“Why do you say that, Roy?”

“Because it’s fucking true? All of the relationships I’ve ever had, all the friendships- I fuck them. Ruin everything, no matter how hard I try not to. Everyone’s better off without me in their lives, I don’t bring anything fucking meaningful to the table.”

Roy wasn’t sure he had ever said anything like this in therapy before. He usually got out of his sessions stiff, confused, and unsure of all he had said and hadn’t said. He thought he was typically doing a lot more of the not saying than the saying. The past week had been a lot though, the voice in his head getting louder and screaming more and more frequently.

He hadn’t meant to give it a voice, but it seems he had, just the same.

Now she’s really gonna think you’re fucked up, y’know. You’re not supposed to say that shit out loud.

“Sorry,” Roy mutters, wrapping his arms around himself and sinking back into his chair.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Doctor Fieldstone replies. “How long have you been feeling this way, do you think?”

Roy almost laughs.

A better question would be when hadn’t he felt that way.

“I don’t know,” he says instead.

“Alright. Well, could you give me an example of when you’ve done this recently then?”

“Jamie thought I was mad at him,” Roy says, the words spilling out before he’s able to stop them. “I hadn’t been texting him back right, and he was upset.”

“What did you do about it?”

Roy freezes on the spot, his eyes locked with hers. “I… texted him. Told him I wasn’t upset with him. Then I face timed with him.”

Doctor Fieldstone smiles a bit, and Roy tears his eyes away, staring at the wall as he waits for her to respond. “That doesn’t seem like a terrible solution to me.”

“But I hurt him in the first place,” Roy says. He knows he’s doubling down, but he can’t help it. “I didn’t even know I was doing it, and I hurt him. Just by… being me.”

“We all have the capacity to hurt people, Roy. Intentionally and unintentionally. Sometimes things happen. Sometimes we hurt people. Sometimes they don’t forgive us. That’s life. It’s what we do afterwards that matters.”

Roy is immediately transported back to sitting in the kebab shop with Jamie, when he said something not too different.

“Well, what am I supposed to do then?” Roy asks in a huff. “If I just keep fucking up and hurting people?"

“Well,” Doctor Fieldstone replies, her voice steady. “Unfortunately, I think that until you learn to accept yourself, you might just keep going down this path. You’re running from intimacy because you feel like you don’t deserve it, because you don’t deserve for people to love you, but that’s always going to hurt the people that do love you.”

“Because they’re wrong,” Roy insists. “They shouldn’t love me.”

“But they do. That’s the thing about love.” She pauses for a moment. “Tell me something.”

Roy grunts, but glances at the woman expectantly, waiting for her to speak.

“You love your niece, correct?”

Roy scoffs. “Of course.”

“Of course. And what would you do if she told you one day that you shouldn’t love her? That she doesn’t deserve love?”

The whirlwind of unidentifiable thoughts swirling through Roy’s mind come screeching to a halt. He gapes for a second, then shakes his head. “She wouldn’t.”

“But if she did?”

Roy makes a soft noise, shifting slightly as a sick feeling settles in the pit of his stomach. “I’d tell her she was being stupid, that of course she did. That she couldn’t fucking stop me.”

“So why are things different when it’s you?”

Roy finds himself sitting in that for a moment, a lump forming in the back of his throat as he shake his head. “Dunno,” he finally manages to grit out before clamping his mouth shut.

“Right. Well, I’m telling you right now that people love you, Roy, whether or not you think that you deserve that. Pushing people away doesn’t change that, it just hurts them.”

Roy continues thinking about that for the rest of the night.

---

It’s good fucking champagne.

Roy is still thinking about how Jamie’s face had lit up when he had seen him and Keeley. Now that an hour or so has passed, Jamie and Keeley are practically on top of each other with how close they’re sitting.

He takes another swig from the bottle in his hand, his eyes scanning over the two of them.

They really are gorgeous together.

No matter what his jealousy on the matter is, that is unable to be argued.

Jamie says something, but the words fly over his head, none of them making any sense to his hazy brain. He’s not drunk, he hasn’t had enough for that, but it feels like he could be.

Keeley must think whatever Jamie says is funny though, because she giggles, head lolling a bit closer to his shoulder as she takes another drink.

Then Jamie’s eyes meet his. There is something teasing to the gaze of them, something curious and soft and all of the things Roy once thought Jamie could never be.

He hadn’t thought that for a long time.

Jamie looks expectant though, as if he is waiting for some sort of answer, and Roy racks his brain for what he is supposed to say.

“What?” He asks finally, causing Keeley to giggle again.

“Jesus, granddad, how much have you had?” Jamie asks, but the corners of his lips are tugging at a smile. “Do I have to cut you off?”

“I’m not fucking drunk,” Roy says. “Just tell me what you want.”

He cringes internally, the words coming out harsher to his own ears than he had intended for them to. Jamie doesn’t seem to notice though.

“I said, you should give me a day off from training tomorrow. My leg and the champagne and all.”

Roy narrows his eyes. “Of course you’re taking the day off,” he replies. “You already fucking played injured, you don’t need to train injured too.”

Jamie hums, and there is a softness to his expression that almost has Roy biting his lip.

“Thanks, coach,” he says, before taking another sip of the champagne. “Why did you guys come after me, anyways?” “I already told you, to celebrate,” Roy says, at the same time that Keeley says, “We didn’t want you to be alone.”

Roy freezes in place, his eyes darting away from Jamie to rest on Keeley instead.

She raises an eyebrow.

“We didn’t want you to be alone,” she repeats, eyes locked with Roy as she speaks. Then she turns to look at Jamie once more. “You did fucking amazing in the match, and we didn’t think you should be alone after being injured like that.”

A soft flush makes its way across Jamie’s features as his eyes dart back and forth between Roy and Keeley, before finally settling on his own lap. “I would’ve been alright,” he says, and Roy feels a frustration bubbling up inside of him, pricking at his skin.

“Keeley’s right,” he says, the words coming out before he knew what was happening. “You did fucking fantastic.”

Jamie looks up, the blush across his cheeks deepening slightly as he locks eyes with Roy. “Yeah? I did?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t go fishing for compliments.” The words are a mumble, but he gets them out before he gets nervous and tears his gaze away. He feels a warmth spreading through his body and he swallows hard.

The silence that settles through the room is almost uncomfortable, and Keeley is the one to eventually break it.

“Right! Well, plenty more champagne where that came from.”

---

Roy isn’t sure exactly how much time he has spent over the past week staring at the wall, but it has to be more than usual.

He knows that Jamie and Keeley will be on their way back from Brazil soon, and he isn’t sure how he’s supposed to face either of them, especially after all Doctor Fieldstone had given him to think about.

You shouldn’t push it, they probably don’t want to talk to you anyways.

Roy groans, rubbing his hands over his face before digging the palms of his hands into his closed eyes.

“That’s not for me to decide,” he mumbles under his breath, immediately feeling exposed. It feels strange, unnatural. He surges forward regardless. “Pushing people away doesn’t help anything.”

He feels his body tense as he speaks. He shakes his head and scoffs before going back to staring at the wall.

This is fucking stupid. You know that’s not fucking true. You being around them is what’s causing the problem-

Before he was forced to continue arguing with himself, a loud knocking from the front door startles him from his thoughts. Confusion immediately takes over; he hadn’t been expecting anyone to come around, and there were only a few people it could be. Maybe he had forgotten about a package.

As he walks towards the door, his mind still mulling over Jamie and Keeley in the background, he is distracted by the sound of hushed whispers and giggles.

He opens the door.

“What the fuck-” Roy cuts himself off when he sees who is standing there; Keeley and Jamie are stood side by side. Jamie’s arms are behind his back, and both of them look like they are trying not to laugh.

For a moment, Roy gapes, before figuring out how to speak again.

“You two weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.”

“Got an early flight,” Jamie chirps, his face bright and his eyes lit up with excitement. “Thought we’d surprise you.” With the words, he pulls his arms out from behind his back, a bottle of champagne in either hand.

A flood of emotions washes through Roy then, and for a moment he loses the ability to speak again.

“Why?” He finally asks, and Jamie glanced at Keeley, who smiles a bit and tips her head in his direction.

“We figured you’d have been moping around here all lonely and pitiful the whole time we were gone,” Jamie says, and Keeley laughs.

“We didn’t want you to be alone,” she says. “Are you going to invite us in?”

Roy makes a soft noise, stepping to the side and opening the door wider as Jamie and Keeley make their way inside.

They came here for you. They care about you.

Roy sucks in a sharp breath, staring after Keeley and Jamie as they push deeper into his house.

He shuts the door and follows.

#ted lasso #roy kent #jamie tartt #keeley jones #royjamie #roykeeley #keeleyjamie #royjamiekeeley #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #i write sometimes

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