#and like we know jamie was a roy kent fan

[thatscrazyrandom]

Wait I just realised Jamie is probably number 9 because Roy is number 6.

[its-time-to-write]

hello! First thing first, I want to say how much of a good writer you are, I hope you know this 💕 second I have this idea of reader and Jamie dating, but nobody knows. One day reader is in the coaches room and starts yawning and Roy is like what's that 🤨 (something similar to that scene with beard after he gets back with jane) and reader answers with "you have been waking me up everyday at 4 am" or smt like that and this is how everyone finds out. I know you have already written something like this but I thought it was cute, so feel free to ignore

this was cute. you were right.

coffee at midnight

Neither you nor Jamie exactly decided to keep your relationship a secret.

“It’s not a secret, it’s private, babe,” Jamie insists. You just roll your eyes.

But like, it is private.

That means no instagram posts, no public dates, and no unasked opinions. It also means that Jamie gets a Polaroid camera (“so we don’t get hacked, babe,”), plans dates in his giant house, and keeps fans’ noses out of your relationship.

It also, also means that Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re in Jamie’s bed every morning when he knocks on the door loud enough to wake the dead.

You’re a week into these shenanigans, and you’re not sure how much longer you can handle it. You’ve barely been at Nelson Road for an hour, but you’ve yawned more than you’ve spoken. Jamie’s been sending you apologetic looks every time he passes you in the hall, but now the entire team is in the weight room as you bring the coaches their coffee.

You place Roy’s in front of him and he asks, “The fuck’s wrong with you?”

You glare. “Nothing. That’s rude to ask, anyway. I’m-” you pause to yawn- “fine.”

Ted looks between you and Roy. “Normally I’d side with the lady on this one, but you look dead on your feet. You been sleepin’ okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shortly. “I’ve been sleeping fine. I just don’t get a lot of it these days.”

“That sounds decidedly un-sexy,” Trent calls from his desk.

You snarl, “It isn’t,” then realize that Trent is undeserving of your anger. “I’m sorry. I’ve been getting like five hours of sleep every night this whole week. Me and my boyfriend just moved in together and we both talk like way too much. So we usually don’t fall asleep until late.”

The room fills with whistles and hoots from Ted, Beard, and Trent. Roy is stoic as always.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Ted grins. “What’s his name?”

You hesitate. You’re pretty sure Jamie would be okay if you told Ted, but you’re not sure you really want to. You let the silence stretch on for a beat too long, and Trent’s on you like a vulture.

“It’s someone here, isn’t it?” he asks.

“No,” you reply, but it’s not convincing. It’s hard for you to lie when you’re this tired.

Jamie and Sam choose this exact moment to come into the locker room to grab water bottles. Jamie glances at you and you make the mistake of glancing back. It’s just for a second but Trent catches it with his stupid eagle-eyes.

“Oh shit,” he says.

You round on him. Maybe he does deserve your anger. “Don’t say anything,” you warn.

He zips his lips as Roy says, “Why are you being so fucking weird? We know you’re fucking lying. Just say which of these little pricks you’re dating and get some sleep like a fucking normal adult.”

“I’d be able to get regular sleep, except you’ve been waking me up at fucking 4am!” you explode.

The room goes silent. 

“Fuuuck,” Roy whispers. “Fucking Tartt? You’re dating- fuck, you moved in with fucking Tartt?”

“Yes,” you groan, “We’ve been together for six months and it’s probably the most serious relationship I’ve ever been in, and I know how it sounds but we really like each other. Higgins already knows because of HR shit but other than that, it’s been private.”

Ted and Beard have matching open-mouthed smiles. It would be a little scary if you hadn’t known them for as long as you have.

“That’s the most adorable shit I’ve ever heard in my whole life,” Beard says.

“Hold on,” Trent interjects, “does this mean you and Jamie have been staying up late every night talking?”

“Yes,” you reply primly. “And then this prick bangs on our door at fuck-thirty in the morning and I’m awake for the rest of the day.”

Roy says, “Right,” very slowly. “Is that fucking why he wasn’t wearing fucking trousers?”

All eyes turn to you.

“I’m not answering that,” you say. “In fact, I think I hear Higgins calling me. I have to leave right now.” You back out of the room and down the hall before anyone can say anything else.

The coaches’ office is silent for a moment before they all clamor out of their seats to chase you down the hall. They have so many questions but first, they’re going to yell at Higgins for keeping it a secret.

[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

[burnthoneydrops]

Like I Always Do (s.o. x fem!reader)

pairing: sam obisanya x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: language (it's ted lasso), use of 'my girl'

a/n: ahh! first time writing for my favourite boy!! i hope y'all like this and don't mind the fact that i clearly know nothing about football, i'm trying my best!!

“Come on Sam!” You call from your place in the owner’s box, Keeley gripping your hand that wasn’t acting as a megaphone. There’s a few minutes left on the clock and both teams have yet to score a goal. The boys are weaving through each other on the pitch, trying desperately to dodge between the opposing players. It’s just started raining and you mutter a curse to the universe under your breath for England’s reliably shitty weather.

“Oh for God’s sake, we just need one goal!” Rebecca sighs from beside Keeley, readjusting the Richmond beanie that held down her hair. Zoreaux throws the ball from his spot on one end, and Sam’s quick to claim it, bouncing it off his knee before kicking it over to Danny. You’d be lying if you said you knew much about football, but from what you do know, this setup looks pretty damn good. 

“Let’s go Richmond!” Higgins calls from behind you, and you can’t help but smile as this is the most high energy and carefree you’d ever seen this man. 

“Babes, you’re gonna squeeze my hand off,” Keeley comments to you as you had turned your focus back to the game, quickly becoming very concerned with the state of it. 

“Oh sorry,” you apologise, loosening your grip with the intention of letting go entirely, but Keeley weaves her fingers through yours, keeping your hand exactly where it is. 

In quite an elegant move from Danny, he twists his body and kicks his leg over the other, shooting the ball straight to the goal. While you could hear the Richmond fans all collectively take a quick breath, it seems too good to be true. Your fears are unfortunately proven accurate as the opposing goalkeeper sweeps the ball away from the netted end, pushing it back onto the pitch with his gloved hands. The crowd splits into a round of sighs and cheers as they either celebrate or mourn the moment for their team. 

“Fucking shit,” Rebecca curses, fidgeting with the bracelet adorning her left wrist. Isaac makes a call, shouting a combination of words that only makes sense to them and they get in a new formation. Jamie runs to basically lean against the opposing team’s players, no doubt muttering something to get in their heads as the boys get ready behind him. They’re soon off again and you’re eyeing Sam the entire time. He’d been so in his head before this that you knew he was stressing like crazy right now. The game is tense and you know he’s trying his hardest, but that self doubt does unfortunate wonders on someone’s self esteem. 

“You’ve got it Sam!” You cheer again, and this time he hears you, looking up at the owner’s box, giving you a warm but small smile and a thumbs up. 

“You’re not biassed at all, are you?” Keeley teases as she looks between you and Sam. 

“And what if I am? You’re the same way for Mister ‘he’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where’ Roy Kent,” You shrug with a squeeze to her hand. 

“Never said it was a bad thing babe,” Keeley replies, shaking her head. 

The crowd starts cheering in unison as the ball gets passed back and forth across the pitch. It gets passed to Sam and the goal is somehow left wide open. This seems almost too miraculous, but you try not to doubt and instead focus on the magic that might be about to happen. Sam claims the ball once again and keeps running forward with it, dribbling it past the opposing players. The stadium waits with bated breath and the tension in the crowd could be cut with a knife. With the looming clock ticking down its last seconds, Sam kicks the ball straight toward the goal, swiftly pushing it past the goalkeeper, making the score 1-1. The timer buzzes loudly, signifying the end of the game, and Richmond has done it. They end with the tie they needed and the fans go wild. 

“With a clean goal from Obisanya, the game ends with a tie!” The announcer repeats into his microphone, as the team runs to hug each other. You and Keeley stand up, exploding with joy as you hug each other tightly, Rebecca turning to hug Higgins from behind her. The fans start to storm the pitch, and everyone is quick to exit the owner’s box, wanting to join in on all the fun. Rain be damned, nothing is going to stop you from celebrating. You search the sea of people for your boyfriend, who pushes Jamie off his back when he sees you. 

“Go get your girl mate,” Jamie smiles, patting Sam lovingly on the back before turning to Isaac and celebrating with him. 

“Y/N!” Sam calls, waving his arms to get your attention. Your smile grows as you spot him, running at full speed, though trying not to slip on the damp grass. His arms open as he meets you halfway, catching you as you hurdle into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. He picks you up lightly, both of you laughing, and spins you around before putting you back down.

“That was fucking amazing!” You praise. “Oh my God, the tension in the crowd was insane but you absolutely fucking killed it!” You tighten your grip on your boyfriend, unable to keep the smile off your face. 

“Hearing you cheer really helped,” he comments as you pull back slightly to look at him. 

“Yeah, might have been a bit aggressive up there. Almost took Keeley’s hand off with how hard I was squeezing”. 

Sam laughs, lightly grabbing the sides of your face and pulling you in for a kiss. The cheers of the fans still on the pitch fade away to background noise as you immediately kiss back, putting all the remaining adrenaline into it. You’re so proud of him and you want him to know it every chance you get. When you two pull away, Sam grabs your hand, twirling you around before settling you back to face him. 

“What was that for?” You ask, a confused look in your eyes. 

“Just wanted to get a good look at you in my number”. It had become custom for you to wear a shirt with Sam’s famous ‘24’ on the back and he loves it every time. 

“My one and only,” you reply, “now come on, this rain is starting to soak through my shoes”. You pull the two of you closer to the exit, but you don’t get too far before Sam’s picking you up and carrying you bridal style across the rest of the pitch. “Sam! Put me down!” You slap his arm lightly before gripping his neck, not wanting to fall. 

“Do not worry, I’ve got you. Like I always do”.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Just Wanna Know You Better

Part of my Birthday Bash!

Request:“Are you trying to flirt with me?” “Yes. Is it working?”

Roy Kent x Reader

0.7k words

Warnings: Language, mentions of drinking, Reader is in a 'situationship' with Jamie Tartt (takes place in season 1), pure fluff

You liked Jamie Tartt well enough. He was good-looking, and famous, and rich, and fun. He made the right jokes and took you to the right places. And you knew that, if you let him, he’d do all the right things in bed. All the things that made up a good fling. But that’s all the gorgeous striker was. A fling. You both knew it and, if you were being honest, you were starting to feel that the fling had flung. So, you didn’t mind too much when, during a post-match celebration he invited you to, you spotted him across the club flirting with another woman. She was pretty and looked bubbly and was positively fawning all over him; she’d probably be a late-night call for him for a couple weeks, you guessed. “Alright there?” Roy Kent had joined you at the bar, gazing down at you with furrowed brows and a frown. You smiled at the midfielder and nodded, taking a sip of your drink. “Dandy,” you replied. “Yourself?” He shrugged and let his eyes flicker to Jamie and the blonde. “He’s a prick, you know that, right?” A laugh rumbled in your chest. “He’s fine,” you assured Roy. “We’re nothing serious. In fact, I was thinking it might be time to call it quits.” You ran your fingers through your hair. “We had a couple laughs, he bought me a few excellent dinners, and I got to enjoy some football. All in all, not a bad experience.” Roy’s chuckle echoed in your ears. “I think you’re officially the coolest woman Tartt’s ever gone out with,” he announced, tapping his drink to yours. That strange compliment became a few light-hearted jokes about Jamie, which became chatting about the books you’d read recently, which became you laughing at the story he decided to tell you about his recent trip to the park with his niece. As you and Roy Kent sat at the bar, you found yourself thinking less and less about Jamie Tartt, and more and more about how bummed you were that your brief time as a Greyhounds fan was ending. “I didn’t even ask, did you enjoy the match?” Roy asked as you caught your breath from giggling so much. His eyes were soft and a tiny grin played on his face; not at all the horrible twat Jamie often complained about. “I did,” you answered. “It was great. Probably the best football match I’ve seen in ages.” He nodded towards the corner where Jamie was officially canoodling with the blonde. “You caught his three goals, yeah? Fucking prick is too good and he knows it.” You nudged Roy. “Actually, I was thinking about you stopping that forward that almost scored towards the end. Probably saved the game, Kent.” His smile grew, something that didn’t happen often enough. “I did have a decent night,” he admitted, a touch of bashfulness and humility in his gruff voice. “Maybe because there’s been a gorgeous woman in the stands lately and I wanted to impress her.” The scoff that came out of your mouth was playful as your eyes sparkled at him in the colorful club lights. “Roy Kent, are you trying to flirt with me?” “Yes,” he said, completely matter of fact. He took a casual swig of his beer. “Is it working?” A blush crept up your neck and settled in your cheeks. All you could do was smile at the man who gazed at you with a mixture of teasing and hope, waiting for you to answer. As if he couldn’t already tell the answer by the shy grin on your face. He leaned close. “Listen,” he finally murmured in your ear. “I know you came to see Tartt tonight, but I was wondering…” He cleared his throat. “Maybe next time, you’ll come to see me?” You turned your head to stare at him, with his raised eyebrows and embarrassed grin. And you suddenly knew that you had to talk to Jamie straight away. Not that he would mind. And you also knew that you should definitely keep that Richmond sweater he’d given you; although you might need a different kit with a different name and number on the back. “Yeah, Kent,” you breathed. “Next time I’ll come to see you.”

[itsclydebitches]

I really want to take a moment to appreciate the conversation between Roy and Trent in 3x02, as a part of Ted Lasso's larger commentary on toxic masculinity.

Because these two are classic nerd/jock archetypes, yeah? (At least on the surface. The fact that they're far more complex than that is kinda the whole point.) Roy Kent is the handsome, talented, scariest motherfucker around, able to treat people like shit and still earn the devotion of the fans because he possesses the coveted Sports Skills. Trent, in contrast, is the queer kid who was never able to participate in sports himself, instead needing to turn to writing about them to find that in. As he tells Ted, for him sport is the metaphor and his words, delivered with an "edgy" style that pulls no punches, defend Trent in a way he's never been able to defend himself physically; they gain respect in a field where he'd otherwise be considered a joke. ("Is this a fucking joke?") Plus, given the implied backgrounds and present day characterization, I don't think it's much of a reach to believe that scathing articles like the one Trent wrote contain a certain amount of bitter satisfaction: Roy is "over-hyped," "mediocre," "disappointing," and driven by "rage." If that doesn't sound like a bullied kid finally getting back at all the jocks Roy represents, I don't know what does.

Notably, they repeat a version of this history during Trent's first week at Richmond. He's easily the most anxious we've ever seen him, jumping at loud noises, hands twitching in his pockets, very self-consciously trying to form a connection with the players and failing miserably. Trent is without his armor now - that of a high-profile journalist, safe behind his cutting words - and he's unable to rebuild any given that he's being denied the chance to write his stories. Why is that the case? Because top dog Roy Kent has decreed that no one talk to him. Now, we know based on Roy's characterization and what's revealed later in the episode that this is done out of a desire to protect his players from the abusive press, but outside of that context this looks a lot like the popular kid playing the part of a bully. Trent is the new kid entering class, being clocked as the outsider, briefly welcomed by someone with no prior bias (Dani)... and then that's shut down real fast from Roy. Funny as Ted Lasso is (and I was legitimately cracking up throughout the episode) there's also something extremely disquieting - in a very familiar way - at watching someone go from, "Hi! :D" to "FUCK YOU!" all on the say-so of someone with a lot of authority and social power. This dynamic continues throughout the whole week, with Trent growing more and more on edge until, finally, he just gives in. When Roy starts popping balloons he doesn't stand up for himself and demand that he share their office respectfully, Trent just tries desperately to ignore the bullying - and it is bullying, given that Roy stops popping the moment Trent leaves - and then quietly runs away, acting apologetic as he goes. When the players refuse to discuss strategy with Trent he tries to leave again, defeated, which is a far cry from the doggedly confident reporter who would wait for Jamie after practice. Woven among the humor, Trent is at his most vulnerable here, looking more and more like the victim in a hostile, traditionally masculine space.

Of course, given that this is Ted Lasso, the situation is far more complex than just, "Bullies exist and that's #bad." The locker room scene is initially set up to look that way, in large part because it takes place in a locker room/bathroom. AKA, two spaces where bullying tends to occur unimpeded - and we've already seen that in Ted Lasso back when Nate was the underdog, cowering before the rest of the Richmond team. Roy's control over the group is so complete that no one dares challenge his order to ignore Trent (except, of course, Ted himself. The guy who sparked Roy's growth from the get-go) even though the group is clearly very relieved when the ban is lifted. Roy screams at Trent, making him jump, and orders him into the semi-privacy of the showers. It speaks volumes to me that Ted feels the need to give a reassuring nod and that Trent clearly needed it because, again, outside of the fact that they're both obviously adults now and that on a surface level this moment is meant to make us laugh, this is all very reminiscent of the bully pulling the nerdy kid somewhere where he can hurt him without consequence, all while everyone sits there and watches, not really wanting it to happen, but not willing to stop it either. Everything from the setting, to Trent's defensive body language, to Roy pushing the wallet against his chest in a move reminiscent of the classic shove to start off a beating, all of it heavily implies that kind of bully/victim dynamic.

But, as said, it's not that simple. Because Roy isn't the bully here and Trent, crucially, isn't just the victim. The scene goes on to reveal that Trent is the one who has caused Roy harm, by printing a unnecessarily cruel article when he was just seventeen years old. (A revelation that pairs very nicely with his introduction this season - "Love that" - reminding us that just because Trent approves of others standing up to bullies doesn't mean he's never been one.) That was a decision that "wrecked" a young Roy, to the extent that he kept that quote in his wallet for years, only now reaching a point where he can admit how much that hurt him. Trent's explanation is understandable given his heavily implied backstory. Not that he was trying to build his career, but that he would do so by "seeing the worst in people" and hurting them first before they could hurt him. Roy was right all the way back in Season One, Trent is a colossal prick... but that's likely because others were colossal pricks to him first. Here then, we see that cycle of abuse once more, the same one Nate is currently trapped in. The difference, however, is that when Ted says, 'Your ego is hurting us, Roy' Roy listens and when Roy says, 'You really hurt me, Trent' Trent listens, and the three of them together put a stop to the cycle then and there. Trent apologizes. Roy forgives him. Roy lifts the ban and by the end of the episode they've reached a place where they can speak honestly with one another. Not just about Roy's feelings - which is a HUGE thing for him to make Trent privy to - but about the complexities of Trent's career too. We've already seen that balancing the truth with compassion is fine line for him to walk - as evidenced by him texting Ted, but still publishing his article about the panic attacks; leaving his job, but still sniffing out the Richmond story - but here we get the reversal of that. Trent has already said, 'I'm working on emphasizing the ethics of my profession' and now Roy comes in with 'I'm working to admit that a cruel article isn't necessarily an inaccurate one.' He did play like shit at Chelsea and though Trent didn't need to break the spirit of a seventeen year old, the players do need to come to terms with the fact that they're in a high profile career where everyone is judging their performance (something Ted himself is all too aware of). This is the kind of nuanced understanding that's only possible post-apology/forgiveness, wherein the story has reminded us, 'Victims are capable of becoming bullies themselves and they need to own up to their actions just as much as they deserve an apology themselves.'

All of which is REALLY important for the framing of Nate's arc because he is in Trent's position, poised somewhere between victim and bully. It's obvious the ways in which Nate was a victim of the Richmond team, of his father, and even of the public, but it's significant that he's still a victim even as he now consciously hurts others too. Rebecca had a long speech this episode about how charming Rupert is, how he'll pursue you and in the process make you feel like you're the most important person in the world, someone chosen... and though she was talking about Zava, all I could think about was Nate. He's still being charmed and wooed by Rupert, what with the compliments and the new car, but all of it comes with reminders that he's worthless without that approval (surely a cleaning lady must have parked there...). Rupert is the top dog at the moment, his oh so benevolent popularity extending to Nate, encouraging him to model that behavior in order to keep his interest... but inevitably Rupert will toss him aside, just like he did with Rebecca. He'll become bored and Nate will have to grapple with the fact that, in his effort to avoid being a victim, he became the bully instead, just like Trent had. Rebecca is waiting to help Nate understand the ways in which Rupert can demolish your sense of self-worth. Trent is waiting to help Nate understand how to own up to your mistakes. And of course, there's Ted Lasso in the wings, the American outsider who can offer a much needed, compassionate perspective on the whole of it - as well as some personal insight into panic attacks during interviews. The entirety of the Richmond community, thematically, is being built into a reflection of Nate's struggle; a collection of experiences and wisdom and kind-hearted insight that can help him if (when!) he chooses to accept it.

[ultralightpoe]

Midnight Rain - Jamie Tartt

Authors Note: I have been trying to find any sort of energy to post and get out of bed. Got so close to giving up on life itself and I'm barely back, please bare with me as I try to find my way out of my depression hole I have dug for myself everyone. I know it's been a minute but life has been kicking my ass. Be patient with me - Ultralight

Word Count: 4274

Warnings: slight angst

Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT. (Next Event is Sour by Olivia Rodrigo. Requests closed. Event following yet to be decided)

SOUR EVENT

MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy!

Rain, he wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

It was an odd thing, falling for a famous person with everyone watching you both, it felt like every private moment had been laid bare to the world for them to mock and laugh at. There was nothing normal about it. 

But then again there was nothing normal about the way you and Jamie Tartt had met. 

You thought of this as you left the Richmond Stadium, glasses covering your eyes as you did your best to hide your face from the flashes, your bodyguard holding the small of your back as he pushed you forward. 

“Just a few more steps until we are in the car.” He informs, blocking a poster from being shoved into your face. 

By the time you are shoved into the air conditioned car you risk a look back at him, and this is the moment all the paparazzi catch a picture of your tear stained face. 

You wish this had never happened.

“I just don’t understand.” You whine, eyes cast up to the ceiling of the building, swirling in the chair as your manager tapped her pen on the desk in front of you with an unamused expression. “I didn’t do anyth-”

“YOU WERE CAUGHT MAKING OUT WITH YOUR COSTAR!”

“......And?”

“HE WAS MARRIED!” In your defense he had never mentioned his wife and how the hell were you supposed to know? He never wore a ring, he was always in costume and character so it wasn’t like you had talked about his family at all. 

That being said, you felt horrible when you found out, and then your surprised face had been printed onto every magazine and gossip site known to man, which made you look like the homewrecker and him like the lost puppy husband.  What a scuffing tool. 

“So what on earth does this have to do with Jamie Tartt?” You had never heard of him before, not that you were a football fan in general, but you did kind of recognize him from some cheap reality show. 

“He is looking for a change in image, a happy healthy family image.” Your manager explains. 

“So you want me to be his pretty little wife?” You snark, lifting your voice until you're whispering like a 50’s pinup girl and batting your eyelashes at her. “Should I make him dinner every night and kiss him sweetly-”

“How many job offers have you gotten lately?” She snaps, slamming your gossip mags on the desk in front of her. 

She had you there, since he had played victim you had close to no job offers, your image had been destroyed by that pompous man.  

So it seemed Jamie Tartt was your only option. You would play the role of your sweet girl. 

My town was a wasteland

Full of cages, full of fences

Pageant queens and big pretenders

But for some, it was paradise

Your face was printed everywhere by the next morning and Jamie Tartt couldn’t help but try and throw as many of the magazines and papers away during his early morning jog with Roy. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Kent snaps, crossing his arms, his back straight and his eyebrows pinched. 

“I don’t fuckin’ know mate!” Jamie snaps, face bunched up as he panics, the stack of papers in his hands heavier than he thought when he makes eye contact with your photo. You looked so sad he felt his heart shatter. “I jus’ don’ want any of these fucks seein her like this, ya know?”

“Everyone has phones.” His running partner points out and Jamie sighs of disbelief. “Come on, you massive twat.”

With that Roy starts running again and Jamie is forced to drop the magazines in the trash, picking up his speed to catch up with his coach, heart racing against his ribs. 

After this he would call you, maybe try to clear the air. After everything you both went through he was sure you would at least want to talk to him……right?

“So…..I just go to the restaurant…..for the date you set up for me?” Jamie asks, confusion laced in his tone as he stares at his ex girlfriend and now his social media manager. “I just don’t get it Keeley.”

“It’s not something you get, ya?” She smiles, rubbing his shoulders. “Just trust me Jamie, I think she will be good for ya.”

“And she’s interested in me?” There was a small excitement in his chest now, the feeling of being adored always enough to boost his ego. “Then I think I can give this a chance, ya?”

So he did give you a chance, he showed up (late) wearing simple workout gear and asking the host about your reservation. She gives him a disgusted up and down look before side-eying him as she points to a table in the far back. 

You were there, your nose in a book, and not caring about anyone else in the restaurant. And he instantly knows he should have dressed up more, he figured you would be some fangirl and would like him as he is. But now he sees that he looks like a massive twat who showed up late and not dressed up at all. 

“Y/n?” He asks slowly, reaching a hand up to fix his hair subconsciously. Nerves were getting the best of him and when you finally looked up he could not think straight, let alone breathe. It’s like life stopped short. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah? Jamie Tartt I presume?” You ask and he can do nothing but nod. “Why don’t you sit, the paps are going to be here in no time.”

“Paps?” He asks, lunging to sit in front of you, fixing his hair once more. 

“They follow everywhere. I haven’t ordered yet, even though you were late.” 

“Right. Yeah. Thank you for waitin’.”

My boy was a montage

A slow-motion, love potion

Jumping off things in the ocean

I broke his heart 'cause he was nice

He had been one of the sweetest fake dates you’d ever had in your career, and for a couple minutes you wondered if it was a real date, only to laugh it off as a camera flash caught him in the middle of a dramatic retelling. You had to remind yourself that night that it was fake. It was all fake. 

But the kiss you gave him outside the restaurant felt more real than anything else you had felt before, and when you had pulled away your hands were shaking. But he simply smiled and kissed your cheek before disappearing. 

You had exchanged numbers that night, so you wouldn’t have to go through your managers everytime you needed to meet. And that had worked well for the first 2 weeks. 

He had gone from making you laugh at coffee to texting you at 3 am. And though you had a red flag in your mind about the professional boundary you ignored it because why not? If you were forced to fake date someone then why not have fun?

But now you sat in your empty apartment, legs pulled into your chest as you sobbed, wondering why on earth you had crossed the professional boundary. 

Your phone rang somewhere behind you and a part of you wanted to dive to answer it, already knowing it would be him. But you drew the line in the sand, why run to the water to drown yourself now?

So instead you pulled your throw blanket over yourself and let the world wash away. 

“Is there a reason you called me this early?” You laugh, pulling your coat closer around you as you meet him at the side entrance of the Richmond field. “And when will the paps get here?”

“They won’t be.” He looks proud to say that, excitement crossing his face as he reaches for your hand. “I figured you had enough of them so I’ll sneak ya in.”

His hand finds your own and you are filled with the same warmth of the night you kissed him so you follow him without questions. And he seems ten times happier to lead you to the main field. 

“Okay so there are sooo many rules about being on the field, it’s a bit of bad luck yeah? So don’t tell anyone you were here.” He rambles as you look around before pulling out a ball from his backpack. 

“Oh, what on earth is that?”

“It’s a football?” He laughs, throwing it at you which makes you scream and hit it. It bounces off his forehead with a thud that has you gasping. 

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry about th-” But he merely laughs. 

“I said a football not a handball!”

“You mean a volleyball.”

“A what?”

“Why am I here?” You interrupt, leaning to touch his forehead where the ball hit. 

“I was hoping I can teach ya to play.” He blushes when he says it and for a second you are not Y/n L/n international actress, you are Y/n L/n, dumbass in a soccer field. 

So you spend the night running around the field with Jamie as he teaches you tips and tricks of the game, you are sweating and laughing. 

Then he slips and falls harshly and you are a goner, holding your stomach as you fall over him, cackling. 

“You’re a traitor!” He laughs, catching you before you hit the grass and leaning to tickle you. This ends up being a small wrestling match and by the time it’s over you are both laying in the grass, your head on his chest and staring up at the sky. 

“This was fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I am really thankful I picked the call up.” You giggle, looking up to him and before you know it you are leaning up to kiss him. And just as the first time you are left breathless and shaking. Then he smiles at you and there is a red flag once more. But you don’t listen. 

“You wanna come back to my place?”

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain

He wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

“I just don’t understand, yeah?” He rants, walking back and forth in the coaches office as all five of the men stare at him with odd expressions. “Like I woulda understood if she just told me it was a public stunt-”

  “Ah, I see your dilemma here young pup-” Ted starts, only to be interrupted by Beard and Higgins howling while Roy and Trent both stay silent. “It seems to me like you had some deep feelings for this girl….like, oo oh come on fellas help me out here-”

“Love is dead.” Roy supplies. 

“Beats me.” Trent shrugs. 

“I’m blanking-” Beard panics. 

“LUKE AND LEIA!” Higgins rushes only for beard and Ted to turn on him slowly. 

“You ever seen those movies, Higgins?” Ted asks slowly, and everyone in the room stops. 

“No….No sir.But I know they kiss.” He smiles and Ted nods. “Watch em and then get back to me.”

“Will do, sir.”

“Will you blokes help me?!” Jamie snaps and they all turn back to him. “She won’t even pick up her fucking phone.”

“Well……” Roy grunts and everyone sits up. 

“Oh boy, Roy is about to open up. Buckle in.” Ted giggles. 

“I think if you truly love the lass then you should be Jamie about it and go do what Jamie does.”

“And what does Jamie do?!”

Weeks and weeks of this, dates at restaurants and secret dates away from the paps that relentlessly followed you, and then he would spend the night with you in your apartment. Which was never a requirement but gee what a bonus because you managed to take his breath away with every kiss. 

One tug and his soul is gone, one bite and he is swearing himself to you. 

But his favorite moments between the two of you were when he was laying in your bed, the sunlight streaming through your curtains as you kissed your way up his back to wake him up. In this room you never had that actress pretense you swore by, in this room you were just Y/n. Queen of his heart. 

“I think it’s time to wake up.” You whisper, nipping at his ear as he smiles. 

“Or we can just sleep in…..” He offers. 

“You have a huge game today, and I have my first session on my new film.” 

“A new film?”

“Yeah! I’m playing the love interest, a bit weird when I have to kiss someone dressed as an alien but who am-”

“So you’ll be kissing someone then?” 

“Well acting…. Just like the sex scene is acting and this relationship is-” You are cut off by the sound of his phone ringing but something in his ears screeches. 

It came like a postcard

Picture perfect, shiny family

Holiday, peppermint candy

But for him it's every day

You were right back where you started, swirling in your manager's chair as she glared at you, only this time you felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest that you couldn’t seem to fill. This entire idea had been a mistake. 

“You are right back where you started, but with ANOTHER SCANDAL!” Your manager shouts, slamming the pen onto the table and reaching to grab the tabloids laid to the side. You didn’t bother to look since you already knew what would be plastered all over them. 

You were now not only known as the woman who cheated on Jamie fucking Tartt but you were the reason the team lost their game. You were bad luck. 

A whore. A homewrecker. A lame actress. A waste of space……. But those were just the things that Jamie had said. The public had many many more things to say about it all. 

Your heart stung at the thought of him, trying your best to erase the image of him as tears sprung in your eyes, picking up your stuff as fast as you can before you storm out. 

You didn’t need to be told what a fuck up this was, you already knew it. 

“So… the other day, when we were lying in bed?” Jamie starts, leaning against the wall of the coffee shop as he stares into your eyes, letting you play with the zipper of his jacket. Your back was pressed to the wall as he covered you from the paps, all that could be seen was your legs and at this moment you couldn’t be more happy. 

You, as much as you hate to admit it, loved hanging out with Jamie when it wasn’t a performance. 

“You mean when you forgot your underwear in a rush to leave?” You tease, enjoying the nervous look that crosses his face. 

“Well, you said something that just…. It made me nervous, yeah?”

“What made you nerv-” 

“JAMIE!” A voice calls, breaking you both out of the small trance that had built up between you, both of you taking a step back from each other. You keep a hand on his chest, his own flies up to keep it there as he smiles at the man who interrupted you both.  “DANNY ROJAS!”

“Oy, keep it down, Mate!” Jamie laughs, pulling you to the man dancing. “Danny this is Y/n, Y/n this is Danny.” 

“Wonderful to meet you-”

“You coming to the game?” Danny asks, face filled with excitement. For a moment you want to say no, there was no need for a public appearance at his game, but then you look to see the hopeful expression on Jamie’s face and you feel yourself smiling. 

“If handsome is okay with me going?” You ask, eyes not leaving Jamie. He gets excited, rushing forward to kiss your cheek. 

“I’ll save you a seat!” 

So I peered through a window

A deep portal, time travel

All the love we unravel

And the life I gave away

Jamie found himself running the next morning, thinking about what fucking Kent had said. “Jamie Tartt would fuck it all up of course.” 

Fuck it up? Roy Kent is saying he would fuck it up? That wanker didn’t know anything at all, and Jamie would never fuck it up. 

But then he finds himself at your doorway, sweaty and nervous as he tries to figure out how the hell he got here. Fuck fuck fuck. 

Just as he goes to dash off the door swings open, revealing your tear streaked face staring right at him. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I have no fucking clue.” He blurts, hands flying up like you are about to swing at him. But you don’t, you merely stare at him as he stares back with a heavy heart. “But I am here…..and I’d love to talk.”

You were thrilled, looking around the stadium with wide eyes as everyone cheered for Jamie. You had seen this man in his element many times, you knew he loved the game but you had never seen him in his element surrounded by his fans. 

This was one heck of a thrill. 

He was cheering with them, and yelling, and honestly just owning the field (or Pitch as the coach had explained). You could do nothing but watch in amazement as the two females beside you cheered them on as well. 

But that’s when things started to go sideways. 

You had just been cheering Jamie on, jumping up in your seat when he made the goal, when you saw your old co-star from the corner of your eye. The pompous asshole that forgot to mention he was married. Within a second of making eye contact he was nodding his head, moving closer to you, mumbling out excuse me’s to book it to you. 

For an instant you think of telling him to piss off, but for some reason you didn’t want the group of people you were sat with to realize that you were a homewrecker, whether you meant to or not that's embarrassing. So you let the panic get the better of you and dash to meet him halfway, tugging on his jacket to drag him up the stairs. 

“What the fuck are you doing-” You start to ask, anger coursing through your veins but when you whirl to glare at him his hands are on your jaw pulling you in for a swift kiss as cameras click in the background. 

In a moment of panic you gasp out, only to swing your hand quickly so slap his face harshly. The sound rings out in the hallway followed by multiple ‘oohs’ as you twist to walk away quickly. 

But the damage had been done already, and twitter was on the jump already. 

'Cause he was sunshine

I was midnight rain

He wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed

Like midnight

You watch him in amazement for a moment, eyebrows raised while you tried to process the words he just said. He stares back for a moment, tilting his head while he waits for your response, but you can’t think of a single thing to say. 

“I think we already said enough,” You start, wrapping your arms around yourself while he shuffles uncomfortably. 

“No, Y/n let’s just-”

“Jamie, just drop it. We both already said what we had to.” You mumble, attempting to close the door before his foot catches in it and he huffs in pain. 

“Just….. Five minutes, that’s all I need.”

“.......Fine,” You sigh, opening the door and letting him in. 

“Um- what the actual fuck?!” Jamie snaps, coming around the corner his phone glued in his hand as he glared at you. “You mind tellin me why the fuck you were lockin’ lips with that wanker?!”

“Wait, it’s not what it looks like-” You start, but he is too mad, sneering at you when you try to reach for him. 

“So you weren’t actin’ like a whore with a man while I was playing my game?!”

“Excuse me?” The feeling of panic vanishes, replaced by another wave of anger as his words settle in. “Coming from the dumbass that was in Love Island?”

“It was Love Conquers All, I’ll have ya know!” He scoffs.

“Not to mention I don’t owe you anything! THIS IS A PR STUNT!” You shout, not caring at the amount of paps that were beginning to swarm. 

“A pr stunt?” He asks, face falling as he looks at you. “You mean to tell me that you have been dating me for-”

“Pr. Yes. This entire thing has been PR. Did you not know that?” That laugh that slips from your lips is bitter,  eyes welling up with tears. Dear god, did no one tell him?

“Right, so this entire time I have been used by a lame ass actress? You been using my fame to get roles? Is that it?”

“More like I have been using you to clean up my image after….”

“RIGHT! Sleeping with a married man-”

“He didn’t tell me he was married!”

“YOU COULD HAVE SEARCHED IT UP! BUT YOU HAD TO BE A HOMEWRECKER!”

“YOU ARE A NATIONAL SOCCER SLUT!”

“IT’S FOOTBALL!”

Rain, he wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed

Like midnight

You watch him shuffle across your living room, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet as he tried to talk himself up,  breathing out slowly as he turns to face you. 

“I have never been good with this whole….feelin’ thing. But then I met you and for a moment I thought I had it, you know? I thought I was gonna get the life with the girl that loved me because everytime I was near ya my heart started cracking through my fuckin’ ribcage.” He begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then you are tellin’ me that it was all fake-”

“It wasn’t all fake.” You whisper and he sucks in a breath. 

“It wasn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t have slept with you if it was.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“I’m sorry for what I said.”

“Me too.”

“I….. I want it to be real.” He admits, taking a step closer. “I know it was all fake……now I do. But I want this.”

“Why?” 

“Because you’re the wind beneath my fucking wings!” He smiles, moving until his hands are on your shoulders. “You make my heart race and you are the only one on this earth that doesn’t seem to mind my massive fuck ups. I fall in front of ya so many times a day, and you’ve seen me flex in a circus mirror and get frustrated and you have seen me-”

“I get it.” You smile. 

“Please, Y/n, just give me a chance back. Let’s make this real.”

“But it might not-”

“We can make it work! If you can learn football then we can make this work.”

You stare at him, and he stares back. For a moment he thinks you are going to say no, and he begins backing up until you nod. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Okay.”

I guess sometimes we all get

Just what we wanted, just what we wanted

And he never thinks of me

Except when I'm on TV

  From that point on there was a stark difference between the actress you and the real you. Actress you kissed handsome men on screen and ended up in a tabloid once a week, accusing you of vile things. 

Real you, well real you ate gummy worms in bed with your charming husband that loved hearing all the rumors, reading through them and acting them out like a fake fight. You went to all his games, he showed up to all of your premieres. 

Sunshine and rain mixed into a storm of chaos that both of you loved. 

I guess sometimes we all get

Some kind of haunted, some kind of haunted

And I never think of him

Except on midnights like this (midnights like this)

“Are ye ready yet?” He calls, laying on the couch as he watched the screen before him, laughing a bit when he sees Nate the Great slip on camera. 

“No, I am not!” You snap, rushing into the living room in a panic, searching around. He picks his head up to watch you, laughing a little when you trip over the rug. “What are you lookin’ for?”

“My heels!”

“You are wearin heels to a concert you’ll be jumpin around at?”

“They complete the outfit.” You sigh, watching a smile break across his face. 

“No, lovey, your gorgeous tits complete the outfit!”

“OH YOU PIG-” He laughs as you move to throw something at him, dashing to chase you back. You scream out, dashing up the steps to avoid his clutch as he chases you around the house. 

The next morning you both wake up to the headlines “Football star and movie star late for T Swift concert!”

“Is this all they have time for?” He asks, yawning a bit as you laugh. 

“Apparently.”

[sideboot]

Jamie Tartt is walking around when he accidentally knocks into a middle aged woman hard enough to make her drop her yoga mat and she takes one look at him and immediately starts bullying him into carrying her things to the studio to make it up to her.  Jamie goes along.  She is the same age as his mom, and he did run into her.

It’s clear she recognizes him from Lust Conquers All and only Lust Conquers All “How are you keeping yourself busy these days?  Football?  That’ll be just the thing you need!  Time with the lads.  Lord knows, I need my time with the girls.  And you need something to keep you in shape, though more you with how much you take your shirt off.”

Jamie jokes, you must be the only fan of how I was on this show and she’s like “oh no, you were the favorite of everyone.  Show was never the same after you left.  I say that, but the real show I was watching is how every week our young man would completely deny that you were his favorite.  All this bluster, but it was so obvious.  After you got canned, he lost all interest. 

“He’s had a hard time after his break up, of course I understand with my divorce, he was such a help, buying all the drinks, we were trying to do a rewatch to cheer him up but he said no. 

“And he won’t let me set him up with anyone can you believe, when he’s such a handsome and single young man.  Rich, or we think, won’t let on a thing to the rest of us about what he does, no matter how we beg, maureen thinks drugs, but he would never, but it does make him mysterious and very attractive,”

Jamie is like get it girl.  She’s like “hush as if I were interested. I might have a picture let me take a very long time to scroll through my entire camera roll.  No need to help me I’m just sooo old and sooo clumsy with technology.”

Jamie’s like we can take a picture before I have to go and she’s like no!! you can’t!!! because uhhh

Jamie is mentally like got it I am being expertly fillibustered into staying long enough so she can cheer up a guy by trying to set him up with his celebrity crush.  Well, I’m an attention slut with nothing better to do.  I will stay, give out a few photos and autographs what can it hurt.

Only for who to walk in but a stormy faced Roy Kent in a tank top shorts and leggings.

[abubblingcandle]

Augusnippets Day 18 - Protective Caretaker - Ted Lasso

Jamie finds himself in hospital yet again and Keeley and Roy find out through a secondary source. Neither of them were called as Jamie's emergency contacts. So if it wasn't them ... then who was it?

Here on AO3 @augusnippets

Jamie was in hospital. Again. According to Jamie he had been helping out a neighbour and had fallen off a stepladder rescuing a kitten. Roy had no reason to not believe that tale of events but he just didn’t. Also according to Jamie, he was fine and didn’t need the ambulance that Shannon had called. Now that he absolutely didn't believe. "Why were we not called?" Keeley growled in a great Roy Kent impression at the poor doctor that choose that moment to come check on Jamie. 

"Keeley come off," Jamie groaned, arm drapped over his eyes. 

"No! I am his emergency contact and I should have been called as soon as he was admitted," Keeley continued to vent. 

"There's nothing wrong with me they didn't need to call," Jamie's groans turning more and more into whines. 

"Well there if it isn't our little bruised banana," Ted announced himself bursting into the room with Beard on his heels. 

"What are you fuckers doing here?" Roy frowned. 

"That's what I was trying to tell you. Mr Tartt here is at risk of a concussion from his fall and so needs to leave with someone to supervise him," the doctor interrupted the posturing contest. 

"Oo I'm very good at those. I have different voices to keep it fresh," Ted pointed at the doctor then Jamie who looked like he was in his own personal hell. 

"Which is why we called Jamie's emergency contact ..."

"Which is me." Everyone slowly turned to look at Beard with a varied tableau of surprise. “Imagine how I felt.”

The doctor fled with the promise of a prescription and discharge forms leaving them to try and work all this out.

“Jamie? What’s going on?” Keeley was immediately there, squatting down at Jamie’s bedside with a comforting hand on his hip rubbing little circles.

“Just tired,” Jamie groaned. “Can I go home?”

“We need to wait for the doctors with your prescription. So we can have this conversation now. Why the fuck were none of us called and Beard was?” Roy growled.

“Roy,” Keeley scolded, but Roy could tell her heart wasn’t in it and she wanted to know as well.

“I’m fine it’s just some bruising,” Jamie muttered.

“That wasn’t the question Tartt!”

“This is why,” Jamie shouted, wincing as he jostled the bruises on his cheek. “I knew that even the most minor of injuries you lot would be all up in my business and making it a problem and a big deal. I ain’t that badly hurt. I’ve been hurt way fucking worse. I just need to go home and sleep,” he vented, pointing between Roy, Keeley and Ted.

“So why Beard?” Ted asked quietly, the only one out of the three that did look somewhat scolded.

“I needed someone in Richmond that I could trust would come but wouldn’t care that I was hurt and would sign the discharge papers. None of you lot would have done that,” that one moment of heat seemed to be rapidly fading out of Jamie. Roy didn’t know if it was the pain of his injuries taking over or regret at this bullshit scheme.

“Of course we fucking wouldn’t you idiot,” Roy shouted back.

“Really not the time Roy,” Keeley sighed.

“And you thought I would,” Beard’s calm steady voice dragged them all back on track as he stepped forward to be at the foot of Jamie’s bed. He reached out and grabbed onto the plastic hand holds. It was near impossible to read Beard’s emotions on the best of days but now he was locked down tighter than Fort Knox.

“You’ve never been my biggest fan have you?” Jamie muttered, eyes locked onto Beard almost challenging him to disagree. “When I’m hurt it’s always an inconvenience, a problem you know. I didn’t want to be a hassle to people who actually care about me. I know I’m a lot so I put down someone who wouldn’t make this a big fuss about it. But now we’re all making this big fuss about it,” he sighed, resigned to his fate. Good, because they were not letting him slip away to go lick his wounds in private. That was never going to happen again.

“I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way,” Beard broke the silence, causing all the eyes in the room to lock onto him in varying degrees of surprise. “I didn’t like you at first but I don’t think anyone did …”

“I mean …”

“Don’t lie Ted he was a fucking prick.”

“Thanks grandad, really smashing the making me feel better bit.”

“As I was saying,” Beard continued through the veiled threats, “however I did think that our relationship was improving and so am sorry you didn’t also see that.”

The surprised eyes then turned to Jamie like they were watching emotional tennis. All Jamie did was shrug, curling up into himself as much as he could despite being all one big bruise.

The doctor saved them from these emotional reveals going on for much longer. “His prescription can be filled at any pharmacy but I recommend the one downstairs on your way out. He needs to be regularly checked to make sure cognitive function doesn’t deteriorate …”

“I don’t think there’ll be anything left if his brain withers any further,” Roy mutters and grins when Jamie flips him off.

“… and rest is the best mediciene for the bruises,” he finished holding out the discharge forms to the room in general. Roy went to grab them but Beard snatched them out of the doctor’s hand before he could.

“I’m his emergency contact,” Beard stated, already signing it.

“Coach you really don’t …”

“I’m your emergency contact, you’re coming home with me,” Beard’s tone left no room for argument. And Jamie didn’t, he just looked bashfully down at the bedsheets. Roy and Keeley looked at each other and shrugged. Looks like Jamie was going home with Beard … that was not going to end well.

[meatmensch]

Music I think Roy Kent likes and why

Madonna. In season 3, episode 3, Roy said, "[Pre-Madonna] means before Madonna, female vocalists didn't have to work that hard." This implies a great respect for Madonna and her craft. Also, it's an example of a very specific kind of queer guy misogyny that I find very humorous and implicative (of him being queer).

The Sex Pistols (and other punk rock). Two of their songs are in the Ted Lasso soundtrack. One of them specifically plays when Roy is about to do some pundit work for the first time. I think it's meant to be his hype up music. They're also, of course, anti-fascist and anti-monarchy, which I think Roy would vibe with. He's giving punk.

The music of the Muppets. Canonically (not that I necessarily consider this kind of thing canon, lol) a Muppets fan, I think he'd love the soundtracks to the movies, as well as the numbers they do on the original show.

Rap; Salt-n-Pepa, Queen Latifah, and Beyoncé. I just think he would like them. In season 1, episode 6, Keeley mentions that he has rapped, implying at least some interest in the genre.

Leonard Cohen. I think Roy's Jewish, and he's a broody, sensual bitch. It adds up perfectly. Sidenote: while "She's a Rainbow" by the Rolling Stones was a great choice for the song he runs home to football to, I think Cohen's "Ain't No Cure for Love" would've fucking slayyyed..."I loved you for a long, long time / I know this love is real / It don't matter how it all went wrong / That don't change the way I feel / And I can't believe that time is gonna heal / This wound that I'm speaking of" "I've got you like a habit / And I'll never get enough" "I don't need to be forgiven / For loving you so much"

Klezmer. Again, if Roy is Jewish, and we know he loves and misses his grandad...it's simple. He HAS a record player and a dope sound system, and on his shelves there ARE old klezmer records that he remembers dancing around to with his grandad in their old flat.

Amy Winehouse. Again, if Roy is Jewish, and we know he is broody and bitchy, it is a given. "Rehab" is his anthem when his knee gets bad and he is reluctant to treat it.

Disco; Donna Summer and Jessie Ware. It's just great workout music, and it slays, and if he's queer, well, yes, of course he likes disco.

Pop rock; Elton John and Queen. If he's queer...it's a given. I think he particularly likes "I Think I'm Going to Kill Myself" and "Rocket Man", as he is suicidal (I can't find the interview where Goldstein said this) (it's just Word of God anyway), and the most rocket man motherfucker ever.

The music of the people he loves; Led Zeppelin, Cream, Tina Turner, and Stevie Nicks. Phoebe, Keeley, and Jamie like these musicians. He's a caring uncle, boyfriend, and friend. He is listening and learning. Also, I think Phoebe would be into some weird stuff, like outsider music - maybe some Tiny Tim. I think Roy would also enjoy the music of other friends, from plenty of other genres.

[bbymunsonx]

The Last Time (Ted's Version)

Chapter Eight

chapter warnings: language, talk about abuse

word count: 2.2k

Ted's been exceptionally quiet since him and his wife separated, which is completely understandable. It's been a few days and we've only said a couple words to each other. He wasn't being rude or anything, just sad.  

I would love to do nothing more than to comfort him, even in a purely platonic way. I just wanted him to know he wasn't alone, but I could never find a good time to approach him. 

I was sitting in Rebecca's office as Rebecca, Keeley and I discussed all the men in our lives. 

"Have you guys seen the articles? What kind of fucking bullshit is "Old Rebecca?" Rebecca exclaimed. Rebecca's ex-husband, Rupert, started dating another woman named Rebecca. Since she's about forty years younger than Rupert, the press has been having a field day with calling our Rebecca, "old Rebecca". It's a bunch of misogynistic bullshit. God forbid the press ever call Rupert out for the asshole that he is. They always just blame the woman.

"Exactly what you said. Fucking bullshit." Keeley reached over and held Rebecca's hand, and I put my hand on top of hers.

"Richmond ladies have to stick together." I rubbed their hand with my thumb as I smiled. 

"Alright, enough about me, what is it I hear about you shagging Roy Kent?" Rebecca excitedly said. 

"We've only shagged a few times. And he's bloody good at it." Keeley blushed. 

Rebecca and I both let out high pitched ooo's at the same time. 

"Well, did Lacy tell you who she was pining over?" Keeley said while giggling. 

"Keeley!" I yelled.

"Well, who is it?" Rebecca was beyond intrigued. 

"You can't tell anyone," I began before someone knocked on the door, and in entered Ted. Right on queue. 

"Good morning, Boss," I exclaimed while handing her a box of biscuits. "Keeley. Lacy." 

"Hi, Ted." Keeley waved. 

"Thank you, Ted." Rebecca said as she took the biscuits. "Is everything all set for our new player?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Rojas is going to be very pleased." Ted smiled. 

"That's what I like to hear." Rebecca replied. I've done a lot of research about Dani Rojas the past few days and he seems like a golden retriever dressed up as a man. The other players are going to eat him alive. 

"Lace, did you wanna come down and help us welcome him?" Ted looked over at me. 

"Yes, of course. I'll meet you down there in a minute." I smiled. 

"Alrighty, I'll see you ladies later," Ted waved goodbye as Rebecca and Keeley said their goodbyes. My eyes were following Ted as he was leaving when Rebecca gasped. 

"Holy shit! You're in love with Ted!" She pointed at me. 

I scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"Keeley, did you see the way she was looking at him? She's either clearly in love with him or just wants to fuck him."

"Or both." Keeley whispered. 

"Okay, goodbye," I laughed as I got up to leave. 

"See! She didn't say no!" Rebecca yelled as I was leaving. 

I walked out to the pitch to meet Ted and Beard on the sidelines as they were waiting for Dani to come. After a few minutes of waiting we hear someone come running out behind us screaming. That must be Dani. 

Out runs Dani, enthusiastic and energetic, exactly what I was expecting from all the articles I read. 

"Boys, meet Dani Rojas. Dani, welcome to Richmond," Ted greeted Dani, who was still jogging in place from all the energy. Jamie was automatically on guard around Dani, fearing that his spot on the team may be jeopardized. 

As the boys were training, Ted had gotten a phone call from Henry. Henry was super excited to see a new player on the team. He loved learning about all the players. 

"Alright, buddy, I will. I love you too. Bye-bye," Ted said on the phone before hanging up and looking over at me. "Henry says hello and that he misses you. Seems like you have your first fan."

I laughed out loud. "What can I say? The boy has good taste. Soon others will begin to follow." Ted laughed in response. 

After watching the boys train for a little, I went back into my office and make a post on the teams social media pages officially welcoming Dani to the team. As I was reading through the comments, Ted comes barging into my office. 

"We may have a slight issue," He groaned. 

"What happened?" I immediately jumped up. 

"He's hurt."

"Who's hurt, Ted?" My tone was a little annoyed. 

"Dani."

"How the fuck did he get hurt? He just got here." I was so confused. 

"Roy had told me that he saw him working out in the treatment room this morning before training. Apparently, in all the time we've been here, they've all failed to mention the treatment room was cursed." Ted explained. 

"What do you mean cursed?"

"Roy said that anytime someone trains in the treatment room, they always end up injured." Ted continued. 

"Oh, that's great." I threw my hands up in the air. I was a very spiritual person, so the thought of a curse wasn't outlandish to me. "What are we gonna do?"

"I was thinking late tonight, we all meet back here and do a ritual, something to bond the team together. I'm telling everyone to bring someone that means a lot to them to sacrifice for the sake of the team. Since you're a part of the team, I'm hoping you'll participate. Maybe get Rebecca and Keeley to come down too."

"Yeah, Teddy, of course I'll be there." I smiled. I realized this was the first time I called him Teddy in a while. 

"That'll mean a lot to the boys. Meet Beard and I outside of the flats at nine and we'll head over." Ted said before walking away. That'll mean a lot to the boys, but not to him? 

***

It was exactly nine when I exited my flat and met Beard and Ted out front of my flat. They both had something in brown bags that they were going to sacrifice. They wouldn't tell me what they were bringing so I'm going to keep my item a secret, too. 

We met all the other players in the locker room. Even Rebecca, Keeley, and Higgins showed up. Ted began to talk to everyone, "Thank you all for coming tonight. Not only are we breaking the curse, but we are also bonding as a team. See this here trashcan? One by one, we are going to put our items in the trashcan and then set it on fire, thus breaking the curse. My mom always told me not to set things on fire but I think Mama Lasso will let this slide one time." 

Everyone started to put items into a trashcan. Roy put in his childhood blanket, Higgins put in his recently deceased cats collar, Jamie put in a pair of football boots that his mom gave him, and Rebecca put in the newspaper that called her "Old Rebecca".

It was Ted's turn, so he walked up to the trash can and opened his paper bag. "For my sacrifice, I'm putting in my wedding ring. As most of you know, my wife, or I guess ex-wife, are getting a divorce. I'm so grateful for the time we had together, but I'm also grateful for the opportunity to grow in the future." After he said that, he threw his ring in the trash. I rubbed his shoulder, consoling him because I knew that must've been really hard for him. 

Lastly, it was my turn. 

"For my sacrifice, I'm gonna put in this framed picture of my ex-boyfriend and I. I honestly think it's quite embarrassing that I brought this anyway. But I think I always latched onto our relationship, even when I knew it was over. He- he didn't treat me well. That's why I came here. For the fresh start. I love all you guys and I am just, really excited for a new beginning." I sadly smiled as I placed the picture in the trash. 

I looked around me and all the boys looked like they were all on the verge of tears. They all came around me and engulfed me in a group hug. Ted and Roy were both latched onto me the tightest. 

"Alright, alright. Let's just burn this shit." I laughed so I didn't cry. I only knew these guys for a couple months and I truly had so much love for them. 

We dragged the trash can outside and set it ablaze. We all stood around the trash can fire and looked into it as it burned. 

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Jamie came up behind me. 

"Yeah, sure." I groaned on the inside when I walked off to the side with him. Ted's glance went from the fire to watching me leave with Jamie. 

"I just wanna say I'm so sorry about what happened to ya, with your boyfriend and all. I know I didn't treat you right when you first came here and I shouldn't have done that. I just wanna start fresh, yeah?" Jamie seemed genuinely apologetic. 

"Yeah, Jamie. Of course," I reached up for hug. I could tell during the past few weeks that Jamie was starting to become less of a prick. He'll always be a prick, that's just who he is to his core, but I could tell he was trying to change. 

"We're good, yeah?" He asked. 

"Yeah, we're good, prick." I laughed. I dragged him back to the fire. All the other guys were drinking and having a fun time, while Ted was staring daggers into the fire just taking sips out of his beer. 

I celebrated with Roy and Keeley while Ted mostly talked to Coach Beard for the remainder of the evening. 

"He keeps looking over at you, babe." Keeley nudged at me. 

"I know," I smirked. As I said that, Ted walked over to us. 

"Can I steal her for a second?" Ted asked Keeley. 

"Be my guest," Keeley responded. 

"Don't call the cops! I promise I'll pay for her when I get back." Ted joked with Keeley causing me to roll my eyes. Ted and I walked to the sidelines and both of us took seats in the technical area. 

"As you would say, what's on your noggin?" I asked Ted, shooting him a smile. 

"I just wanted to say I'm so extremely sorry about what happened with Julian. As someone who knew him well, I didn't know he was like that." Ted softened his eyes as he spoke to me. 

"It's okay, Ted. You didn't know. He's good at making it seem like he's the good guy." I laughed at how pathetic he was. 

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Ted asked. It might help if I opened up to Ted, especially as someone who knows Julian. 

"He was my high school sweetheart. I was the prom queen and he was prom king, ya know? Bullshit like that. Well, about three months before we graduated, my parents died in a really bad accident. I had no where else to go, so I stayed with Julian and his family.  I guess that's where he realized how much power he had over me. It started with him making sure I didn't see my friends. Then it escalated to me not being able to really talk to anyone when we were out. It ended with him hitting me. I mean, I guess I shouldn't sugar coat it. He beat the shit out of me. I just never had the money, or the guts, to leave. He always told me that if I ever left him that he would just find me and bring me back. That I'll never be able to leave him and he'll always be a shadow right behind me. That's why I immediately took the job when the Dean told me about Rebecca's offer. He was out with his friends, so I just packed my essentials and left. I don't plan to ever look back. I don't think I've ever been happier." I sadly smiled. Ted hadn't taken his attention off of me the entire time. 

"Just know one thing," Ted held my hands in his, "You will always be safe here and you will always have a home with us." 

The two of us just sat in the technical area watching the team have a blast by the fire. I sat there smiling to myself, thinking about how full my heart was. Even if Ted and I were to remain friends, I will forever be grateful for his friendship and the kindness he's shown me. 

***

The next morning, I was sitting at my desk doing some work when Ted burst into my office. 

"Rebecca is out of line. She cannot get away with this." He stated. He was furious. 

"Ted, breathe. What happened?" I grabbed onto his shoulders so he'd focus. 

"She traded him. Jamie. He went back to Man City."

"She what?!" I gasped. 

Just as Jamie started making progress with everyone on the team, including me, he's gone. 

authors note: sorry this chapters a bit of a filler! the next two chapters are literally so long and filled with drama I'm so excited to fix them up and bit and get them posted! I actually cried writing them so get your tissues ready hehe thank you all so much for the support you've shown my writing so far. it means so much :)

taglist: @nerdgirljen

[queerwheels]

I’ve been thinking about Roy not coaching Jamie. This post got incredibly long and rambly. Also possibly some Ted Lasso spoilers if you haven't watched all 3 seasons?

It’d be easy to conclude that he’s not coaching Jamie initially because he’s still mad at his previous behavior. Jamie was an asshole and did a lot of shitty things. And Roy isn’t exactly great at processing his anger. I mean he’s learning but he’s in the messy middle of it. So, we could conclude that Roy initially declines coaching Jamie because he’s holding a grudge.

Plus, we know Roy enjoys a good power play. (Like they literally did kink stuff in the hallway, what even? Lmao) So maybe he’s using his new coaching position to hold a grudge against Jamie, and power play.

But I don’t think that’s it. Or at least, not fully why.

By the point Roy becomes a coach, he deeply respects Ted. Maybe begrudgingly, maybe he never admits it out loud, but Roy Kent deeply respects Ted.

Not necessarily due to any football specific wisdom of Ted’s. But Roy is a heart player. As a heart player myself, we tend to be deeply loyal to coaches, if we respect them. By the time Roy is a coach, Ted has his respect.

Ted heard their feedback about the showers, and got the pressure fixed asap. Ted admits when he doesn’t know something and defers to those who do know without making anyone lesser. He is the epitome of treat the janitor with as much respect as anyone else. While Ted won’t outright stop the bullying of Nate, he shows him respect in other ways. He’s strategic and understands people. He’s someone that respects Roy, respects the team, as individuals and as a unit. Ted is someone who Roy can be vulnerable with. Where else does Roy have that?

Ted sees Roy. Ted knows Roy’s heart is in the right place. Ted definitely knows that Roy is a heart player. Heck, all of the fans know that Roy is a heart player, we hear it in their chant for him. “He’s here, he’s there, he’s every fucking where.”

(He’s not actually everywhere. It’s impossible to be everywhere. We know that.) But Roy knows what’s needed in various situations, and he’s self-aware enough to know his strengths; to know when he needs to be where and how to get there effectively in the time he has.

It reminds me of when I was playing wheelchair basketball. On the surface, wheelchair basketball is pretty similar to standing basketball. But below the surface, you need to be a lot more spatially aware of things, due to the nature of wheelchairs taking up more space than someone standing. You need to be aware of how much space you take up, what spaces your chair can and can’t fit into, your speed, speed of others,  angles, etc. One of my coaches, who was a Paralympian wheelchair basketball player, frequently said, “sometimes the best thing you can do is to give up a few feet (of space on the floor) in order to not let the shot be uncontested.” He is a heart player too.

My maximum speed on the court is fast enough, but it’s still significantly slower than a lot of ppl. A person who plays only on their talent might look at that and be like “they’re faster than me, so I can’t guard them.” But as a heart player, I dug in and learned how to be where I needed to be to guard them to the best of my ability. Even if it meant giving up ¾ of the court space available on a fast break, 8/10 times I’d still get there either for the defense or the foul instead of an uncontested shot.

Roy plays the same way. But you don’t get that kind of understanding and such consistent implementation of it unless you put in extra effort, maybe hours upon hours pouring over film, taking coaches constructive criticisms seriously, putting extra time in. What Roy lacks as a player, or loses in his age, he makes up for with his passion, and his understanding of what’s needed. He isn’t always able to get there but he’s damn well going to give his all or die trying.

What does all this have to do with Roy not coaching Jamie? (And then also when Roy is coaching Jamie)

Roy understands that Jamie being a prick is a strength, when it’s aimed at the other team. (But Roy also has lots of experience w/ Jamie being a prick to his own teammates. It’d be easy for Roy to conclude something like, “Sure, Jamie looks like he’s changing but what if I tell him to be a prick and he is a bully again?”)

Roy respects Ted and knows that Ted has been pushing Jamie to be a team player.

Roy is strategic. He sees things and he understands what pieces work best where.

(my guess is that Ted especially has Roy’s respect and gratitude for bringing him back to the game he loves, to feeling alive again. Especially after being forcibly retired from what he’s loved for most of his life, due to his knee giving out. Who is Roy Kent when he’s not around football? Does he even know anymore? That leaves a lot A LOT  of room for depression, despair, anger. Roy had to be somewhat forced into the pundit thing by Keeley, and then again nudged by Ted asking. Ted still leaving the ticket for him even after Roy rejected his ask/offer initially.) Roy feels seen by Ted.

When he doesn’t care about someone with that deep respect, he’ll tell them exactly what he thinks. Especially if they ask or needle him. But this coaching gig, and feeling alive again, that’s still newish when he’s refusing to coach Jamie. What if he’s afraid that criticizing Ted’s thought of getting Jamie to be a team player could make that all disappear again?

Thus we have: Roy coaching the team. But just not coaching Jamie. Until Jamie asks again and again. Until Ted agrees with Jamie and asks too. And Roy can finally believe that that specific piece of feedback is actually wanted, and/or just gets to the point of fuck it.

Bonus, Jamie repeatedly asking Roy for coaching is where we start getting to see that Jamie is also a heart player. It’s just previously been hidden behind his talent and his cockiness. But you don’t agree to 4 am workouts unless you’re a heart player.

Also I know Roy said whatever about 4 am being an opportune time. But I think that also comes down to Roy being a heart player. As a professional footballer, their practices are intense. When you’re doing multiple workouts a day, the body needs time in-between workouts to rest, to eat, etc, in order for it to be sustainable at all. My guess is that 4 am was chosen b/c of Roy’s history of having figured out that that was a time when he could  get the extra workout in, while also letting his body rest before the team practice, and still get everything done that he needed to, as well as get sleep.

[cuppachar]

Rewatching jamie in early season 1 is so hard cause like. I wish they knew what he was going through. I remember being young and hurting and so mean because of it. And it was so not okay of me. But also, I'd see everyone else allowed to be silly and sensitive and emotional and mediocre and I wasn't allowed to be anything but tough, and it made me so mad. And I just want to hug him and tell him I get it, and that it's gonna be okay.

Hi Anon

Thank you for that insight and hearing your experience.

I get you completely - re-watching S1 just reminds me that we do not know what's going on inside other people or know what has happened to them. I think it's why I love that scene with Roy in S3 where he's doing the press conference after Isaac's aggression to the abusive football fan.

'to do what he did today, even though it was wrong, I give him love.'

Knowing some of Jamie's background (and I wish we got more to be honest, but's an ensemble cast with multiple characters who have complex issues and/or dynamics, so it's limited in that regards) and seeing S1 again, it's such a different viewing and understanding of a character and makes Jamie so much more human and real. Jamie isn't just a prick. He's a prick with trauma and reasons.

I don't see cocky prick Jamie who thinks he's best who never passes because everyone else is shit - I see Jamie, who's terrified of what his dad will do to him if he isn't dominant.

I don't see a Jamie who doesn't celebrate his teammate's birthdays and eat cake - I see a Jamie who's been told to treat his teammates as 'assists' and has diet plans that don't include cakes or pastries because he has a weight he needs to keep.

I don't see a Jamie who doesn't want to greet his new teammate - I see Jamie, who flinches at fast movements and doesn't trust easily. I see a Jamie who's realised he's not their only ace anymore, and that terrifies him because of the implications that may have with his father (Imagine the writers hadn't gone down the rehab route for James Tartt Snr in S3 and how Zava's introduction and place in the team would have caused some serious consequences for Jamie, both psychologically and physically).

I don't see the Jamie who cockily refuses to 'practice' - I see a Jamie who shifted into 'I don't like angry men shouting at me' (and at some point pre-canon, I imagine Jamie's hero-worship of Roy was destroyed and tainted when he met 'Shouty, I don't give a shit-Roy-Kent And I'll take out my negative emotions on you, even if you deserve it or not' and Jamie's poster hero , who he'd imagined stepping out of the wall and putting his dad through the said wall was gone and Jamie's automatic response was to be a prick in defence/offence.)

I don't see a Jamie who brought two dates to the auction - I see a Jamie who wasn't sure if he could get Keeley to bid on her own boyfriend, so he brought another plus one instead, terrified that he'd have to have sex with an older woman like those ladies behind the glass windows in Amsterdam. Watching that episode back really icks me out, and seeing Jamie's response back when I first watched it, you could mistake Jamie's reaction to both Keeley and Roy's 'teasing' as Jamie just being mocked and teased, but re-watching it, I see a Jamie who's really uncomfortable with the attention he's getting and upset at his rival and girlfriend cruelly mocking him (of course, they don't know about his experience in Amsterdam) but I'm always struck at how Jamie walks away from the table, from the both of them, because he's upset (and it kind of hits me even more, 'cause I think that Jamie doesn't even know why he's so upset with how much he's suppressed the memory, the implication of what his father orchestrated despite his tender age).

Although, I think they could have had a bit more Jamie and Ted interaction or reflection on Jamie's relationship with his father and/or trauma (because there did seem to have link to Ted's panic attacks, especially when you consider Ted's panic attack during the match in S2, because you can hear Jamie's dad verbally abusing Jamie from the S1 final as Ted spirals, which was really interesting and I only realised this recently) I really do appreciate Ted's "I promise you there is something worse out there than being sad, and that's being alone and being sad. Ain't no one in this room alone" sentiment, but I just really wished he'd reached out to Jamie, because Jamie wasn't just alone and sad, he was scared and traumatised, and although he didn't verbalise it in S2, he obviously had no safe places or people he felt he could turn to, so he not only left the profession he loves, he left the country.

Anyway, my ramble is over.

In summary, you only really get a better understanding of Jamie by re-watching Season 1 and seeing him in a different light after watching S2/S3.

[mixtapestar]

AO3 Wrapped [writer's edition]

How many words have you written this year? 248,282 according to my tracker; 231,445 posted

How many works did you publish this year? 105

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)? flip like a switch (Ted Lasso, Roy/Keeley/Jamie, Explicit) featuring switch!Roy

What work of yours has the most hits? relentless (Venom, Eddie/Venom, Explicit) - written for the BDSM exchange

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? the best sleep (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie, Explicit) featuring only one bed

Favorite title you used intricate rituals (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie, Explicit) featuring fighting that turns to fucking

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most? surprisingly little lyric-inspired titles this year! the only one that comes to mind is step into the future (High School Musical, Chad/Ryan, Teen) that uses a HSM3 lyric

Relationship you wrote the most for this year? Roy/Jamie (46)

Favorite relationship you wrote for this year? Equal love for Roy/Jamie and Roy/Jamie/Keeley!

What work was the quickest to write? future luck (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie/Keeley, Explicit) because we needed the tags for battleship 😂

What work took you the longest to write? caught in a landslide (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie/Keeley, Explicit) featuring Jamie not knowing he's being wooed

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year? looks like 6-8 that have potential to actually get written/posted in 2024

What’s your longest work of the year? caught in a landslide (see above) at 14,467 words

What’s your shortest work of the year? several drabbles of exactly 100 words! I think my favorite is anticipation (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie/Keeley, Teen)

What WIP are you taking into next year with you? Roy/Jamie/Keeley soulmark AU

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag? Dom/sub 😂

Your favorite character to write this year? Roy Kent

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? Carlos Reyes in my foray into 9-1-1: Lone Star fic! I hope I did him justice.

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year? since I'm still comfy in my Ted Lasso hyperfixation, I'm thinking Colin/Will

Which work of yours have you reread the most? probably not quite a punishment (Roy/Jamie, Explicit) just for editing reasons

How many kudos in total did you get this year? 13,648

Which work has the most comments? flip like a switch (see above)

Did you do any collaborative works this year? I podficced several works! You can find them at an AO3 name that switches out 'pod' for 'star' 😉

Did you write any gifts this year? MANY!!! Most of my fics from the first 3/4 of the year were for exchanges, and then the last 30 were for the Sexy Christmas event on the This Is Perverse (Roy/Jamie) discord server.

Did you receive any gifts this year? Also many, because of the exchanges! They're so much fun <3

What’s your most common category? M/M

What do you listen to while writing? Usually nothing, but if not, something instrumental or in a language I don't speak. I was a big fan of Neon Bunny this year.

Favorite work you wrote this year? equal opportunity (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie/Keeley, Explicit), because it was written right after 3x01 responding to the events therein, and I think it still slaps

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? from the best sleep:

"Alright, seriously. Did you take something? Have some shots? It's fine, you can tell me. Fuck knows I got into plenty of shit back in the day." Jamie stares back at him in wide-eyed confusion when Roy twists around to see his face. "I didn't have nothing, Coach. Swear down." "Why are you being so fucking weird then? All… happy." Jamie's expression softens. He hasn't moved his hand from around Roy's middle since Roy twisted around, so now his fingers are tangled in Roy's shirt, rucking it up. "'Cause I'm fucking happy, mate. We won against City—me mum was proper hyped up over it. I got to dance with Colin's fit new boyfriend and tease him about it, and then I got to come home with you." Roy's heart jumps to his throat at Jamie's phrasing. "And that makes you happy?" he rasps. "All that?" Roy's shirt bunches under Jamie's hand as he grips it. "Roy," he says desperately, eyes pleading.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year? Writing 30 Roy/Jamie fics for Sexy Christmas. 😂 The inspiration of a big ol' stack of kink prompts!

[lunar-years]

Some people have been taking the "red rope" moment as foreshadowing for Roy Kent beating up Jamie's Father later this season. But now I have a suspicion that TED is going to go ape and throw punches at James Tartt Sr. in the next encounter, probably in tomorrow's episode (and Issac attacking the fan makes that an even likelier possibility for me).

So many people have been seeing the build up and are speculating to a full mental breakdown for Ted, and this would be such an unnerving but brilliant way to execute it: all of his own issues and ordeals left unresolved coming up to catch him, festering inside until the sight of the player he most gravitates towards as his own son is subjected to even more tormenting from his father, especially after Ted has already twice walked away without intervening.

It's not the Ted we're used to or the Ted we would like to see, but he's been struggling more this season than ever before, and everybody has a breaking point, no matter the quality of their support system. Even if he succeeds in scaring Tartt Sr. away, it would generate a complete media blowout with condemnation and support alike. Imagine how Rupert could use that information/display to get others to laugh at Richmond...

Well, as much as I do not want to be like "Well, I disagree with all of your points"...I sort of do disagree with all of your points, anon.

I think if James Tartt Sr. does make an appearance this episode, it will be a more isolated incident and not something that happens in front of the whole team. We had that last season, for one. For two, surely, even if Richmond can't ban him from other stadiums, they've absolutely taken precautions to ensure he doesn't get near the dressing room or Jamie during or after a match again. He might be at the Man City game, but I don't realistically envision a confrontation there.

I do think it is very very likely James Sr. is brought up and discussed and involved somehow in the episode's events. Like maybe he starts berating Jamie via texts and calls again, Jamie is off-kilter because he knows his dad will be at the game, or he's afraid he'll run into him in Manchester, etc; BUT...

I imagine if there is a face-to-face confrontation, it's going to be largely Jamie facing it down again, I would hope backed by some of his support system, yes. In this case I think the most likely candidates are Keeley & Roy (& possibly his mother??) because we know already they are a part of his storyline this episode.

I don't think Ted has been spiraling towards full mental breakdown? Since Amsterdam, and then especially since We'll Never Have Paris, we've seen Ted makes leaps and bounds of progress. he's been shown keeping up with therapy, he's working through his Michelle & Henry stuff and making significant changes to his mindset, and he's finally finding joy in coaching again.

To me the state of Ted's mental health was by and large the worst in s2, and the consequences of that breakdown extended into the first part of this season, but he's now well on his way back up. It would not make much sense to have him at his absolute lowest in the penultimate episode of the entire show.

I strongly disagree that Ted gravitates towards Jamie like his own son. I've already discussed that at length in response to a different ask this season, so I'm not going to go into it again here. but yeah, I just don't see it.

I think it's important to remember that by the second to last episode of the show, arcs are winding down, not starting up. I don't foresee a big media blowout with Rupert using it to tear down the club, because we're past the point of return for any of that. I just generally don't see major threads being introduced in the second to last episode when we already have soooo much to wrap up. That's why I think Jamie's storyline is going to be more of a continuation/follow-up to last season's Man City episode rather the introduction of new problems for him. This is the ending, not the beginning.

Not to down on your speculations, anon. Who knows what's going to happen! But my personal belief is that Ted & Jamie's plots aren't really going to intertwine all that much this episode. My like, big hope for them is ONE scene towards the end of the episode where maybe Ted knows Jamie's been struggling lately and he pulls him into his office to check up on him, and they get an opportunity to discuss things like Ted walking away from Jamie & his dad those times. I want resolution for them, I do, I just don't think their relationship is as big of a plot point as others think it is.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 2)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

4.3k words

Warnings: Language, fingering, unprotected sex, the start of catching feelings

A/N: Reader is called "The Empress" by fans. Thanks to @agentstarkid for coming up with the nickname 🩷🩷

Series Masterlist

It didn’t take a genius to know whose eyes were drilling a hole into your backside. When you glanced over your shoulder, you locked eyes with Roy Kent. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly as his eyes raked down your figure. His gaze froze at your middle, where you had tied your racing suit; his eyes were on that little sliver of tummy that you may have purposefully left exposed just for him. You shot him a small wink before turning to chat with one of your engineers.

Roy focused all of his strength on not biting his lip as he stared at you. The two of you had been playing this little game all weekend: gazes across rooms, eyes lingering on each other’s bodies, mentally undressing each other, both wondering if the other was thinking about Roy’s post-race promise.

“Oi, why don’t we get a picture?” Keeley’s voice interrupted a particularly filthy image Roy had swimming in his head that involved you on your knees. “Our Greyhounds with one of the cars. Be real cute, yeah?”

Needing his willpower to prevent himself from getting an obvious hardon, Roy allowed himself to be dragged to one of the cars and- fuck, Keeley was dragging him to your car. The car that he most definitely did not imagine you writhing on top of while he-

“Alright boys, smile pretty!”

Right. Roy, smiling. Keeley was just grateful that he stood next to Jamie while she started snapping away. He swore he saw something light up in her face, but she just continued to take pictures. Freaking Keeley.

“Roy Kent, are you a fan?”

The breath on the back of his neck had a visible shiver coursing through his body. Even just the sound of your voice was enough to make his mind go to the filthiest places. When he turned around, you were smirking up at him, eyebrows raised and hands on your hips, looking like his own personal centerfold in your half-down racing suit.

Before his brain could get the blood back from his crotch, Keeley pulled you into a hug, squealing about how hot you looked in your race suit, something Roy quite agreed with- especially since he knew what was underneath all those layers.

After you’d greeted the others, you turned your attention back to Roy. “Excited to watch the race?”

He swore he saw your eyes flicker to his crotch when you said excited.

Roy shifted his weight, hoping to avoid looking like a horny teenager in front of everyone. “’Course I am. Really looking forward to seeing you win.” Recognizing the lustful look in your eyes, he felt emboldened to quietly add, “And looking forward to celebrating with you after.”

Finally, he’d cracked that cool exterior you wore. Your slight flush only added to his desire “Oh, is that offer still good?” You glanced at the Richmond crew, who were back to taking pictures by your car. “Guess I better get out there and win then.” You gave his bicep a little squeeze. “Wish me luck.”

His voice was low. “You don’t fucking need luck. You’re the fucking Empress.”

You’d been called that little nickname for what felt like forever now. Heard it shouted by fans, had reporters cheekily call you that, even had a couple guys try using it in the bedroom. And you loved the way it sounded in Italian- L'imperatrice- once you joined Ferrari.

But hearing Roy Kent call you that had your pussy practically purring.

You needed to remove yourself from him before you removed his clothes. So, you allowed yourself one last eyeful of the football legend before turning away. “I’ll see you after the race, Roy Kent.”

~

Goddess. That was the only word Roy could think as he watched you up on the podium, drenched in champagne and positively glowing. When the bottles of champagne were popped and poured over you, Roy found himself grateful for the roar of the crowd because he couldn’t hold back his groan, thinking about other things he wanted to see you covered in.

Unfortunately for Roy, the cheers could hide his moans but not his face.

“Roy Kent, are you horny?” Keeley hissed in his ear.

Roy tore his eyes away from you to look at Keeley, completely flabbergasted. “What the fuck, Keeley?”

Her smile was pure, adorable evil. “You’re horny,” she repeated. Her mischievous eyes flashed to the podium. “You fucking like her.”

“Fuck off, Keeley,” he grumbled, trying to look casual when he turned his gaze back to you. But fuck, it was hard when he saw you up there, drenched, in that sexy racing suit, being worshipped like the deity he was completely convinced you were.

Something else was hard when your gazes locked and you offered him that smirk, the one that told him, I’m taking your pants off, Roy Kent.

If only he knew how badly you were fighting the urge to rub your thighs together at the mere sight of him.

Keeley’s elbow dug into his ribs. “Holy shit, are you going to try to shag her?”

He was going to murder the blonde beside him. “Fuck are you on about?” he grumbled, pretending Keeley wasn’t completely on target. “What is actually wrong with you?”

She shrugged, as if she wasn’t torturing her friend. “Roy. I know your horny face. I have been the reason for your horny face.” She pointed at him. “That is your horny face. And, if memory serves me, you are very fucking turned on right now. Not that I could blame you. She’s gorgeous.” Her smile widened. “I ever tell you about the photoshoot we did together? Where I was hanging all over her? Even kissed her in one.”

The tips of Roy’s ears turned bright red. Yeah, that was a mental image he’d have melted into his brain for a long time, especially now that he knew what both of you looked like naked.

“Oi, Keeley!” Jamie wrapped his arms around both of his friends’ shoulders; for once, Roy was grateful for Tartt’s interruption, even if it meant being embraced by the man. “We goin’ to one of the afterparties or something?”

Even though she answered Jamie, her wicked grin was directed at Roy. “Oh, we’re going to Ferrari’s party.”

~

For once in his life, Roy didn’t complain about having to go to a club. Keeley thought she was clever, realizing that Roy was seriously attracted to the gorgeous young champion, and even more clever for dragging Roy to the celebration in your honor. She was such a good friend, trying to help Roy shag his little crush.

What Keeley didn’t realize was that Roy’d already had his tongue inside of you.

“You should go say hi,” Keeley purred, nudging Roy for the millionth time that day. “Bring her a drink or some shit. Flirt with her a little.” She reminded him of a parrot, repeating herself over and over since they’d arrived at the club.

Roy rolled his eyes and leaned his elbows on the high-top table they stood at. “Keeley,” he growled. “You say one more fucking word, and I will never speak to that woman again.” It was an absolute fucking lie, but Roy was desperate for her to stop.

She pouted. “Come on, Roy,” she whined. “Just want to see you all happy and getting some.”

“I get plenty,” he snapped, feeling himself blush.

“When?” she responded, just as curt. “I’ve hardly seen you since any women since we broke up.”

Roy scoffed, pretending Keeley wasn’t once again correct. “Well, not that it’s your fucking business, but I just hooked up with someone recently. And it was fucking great. And she definitely fucking came.” God, he sounded like such a wanker.

Before Keeley could badger him about who this mystery woman was, Jamie pulled her to the dance floor, leaving Roy to finally fucking breathe. He turned his attention to the glass in front of him, frowning at it. Should he go say hi? You were spending your whole night being mobbed by people; did he really want to add to that? And besides, did you really take his little promise seriously?

“There a porno playing at the bottom of that glass or something?”

There you were, wearing a dress that was more skin than material, giving him that fucking smirk. You leaned on the table and gazed up at him, the look in your eyes tempting Roy to pull you close and plant a sloppy kiss to whatever skin his lips found first.

Instead, he lifted his glass. “There she is,” he hummed. “The fucking champion. The Empress.” He wasn’t sure because of the dark lighting, but he swore he saw you blush. “Looked great up there, with your big fucking trophy.”

Your bravado returned with a vengeance. “Speaking of which…” You took a tiny step towards him, letting your fingers brush against the inside of his wrist. “I’ve heard you’ve got a big fucking trophy for me.”

In spite of his spinning head, Roy coolly raised his thick eyebrows at you. “Only if you want it,” he murmured.

Your eyes never left his as you reached into your clutch, pulled out a hotel room key, and slipped it into his hand. “Wait five minutes, then leave. I’ll be five minutes behind you, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he huffed, eyes sparkling as he pocketed the hotel room key. “Bring that bossiness with you, hmm?”

He pushed himself off the table and strode away, letting his fingertips brush against yours. You looked down and let yourself smile, a real, girlish smile; you weren’t sure the last time you wore one of those. But fuck, Roy Kent sure made you feel some kind of giddiness.

“Hey there, gorgeous!” Keeley Jones bounded over to you. “Congratulations!”

You let her pull you into a tight hug, although your mind was already in your hotel room embracing someone else from Richmond. “Thanks, Keeley.”

Keeley’s smile was… suspicious. “Saw Roy chatting with you just now.”

Fuck. “Oh, yeah. Nice guy, was offering me his congratulations.” And his cock.

“Well, between you and me…” She leaned in close, reminding you of the girls you went to school with, the ones who giggled and whispered. “I think Roy’s got a thing for you.”

“Oh.” Dammit, you didn’t know how to react. What are you supposed to say when someone says the guy you’re about to fuck wants to fuck you? “Interesting.”

Keeley all but scoffed. “Interesting?” she repeated. “Come on, you’ve got to admit he’s fit as hell.”

You shrugged. “I guess? I mean, it’s not like I’ve seen the guy naked.” Hey, it’s the truth.

“Well, I have. And believe me, he’s gorgeous.” Keeley nudged you, offering a cartoonish wink. “Should give him a shot.”

As you tried to figure out the least obvious way to get out of this conversation so you could get into Roy Kent’s pants, Jamie Tartt- who was apparently very busy being an angel tonight- rushed over to tell Keeley that Rebecca had just agreed to do body shots off of him and that he needed Keeley to come record it.

Thankful to finally have Keeley gone, you quickly turned on your heel, giving only smiles and waves to the people who wanted to offer you congratulations as you made your way out of the club. But, just like on the track, there was no stopping you; not when you had a big fucking trophy waiting for you.

The entire cab ride to the hotel, you were fighting the urge to touch yourself in the dark backseat, just imagining Roy waiting for you in your suite. Would he be in the sitting room? The bedroom? The shower? Would he be wearing his suit still? Or completely naked and ready for you? Each scenario was hotter than the last, and you felt a little guilty, thinking that you were probably leaving a puddle on the seat of the taxi.

Miraculously, you walked steadily in your high heels through the hotel lobby, to the lift, and finally down the hall to your suite. You paused in front of the door, your confidence failing for the first time all weekend as you stared at the door handle. What if Roy wasn’t in there? What if, on what should be one of the best nights of your life- six fucking titles- you’d just utterly humiliated yourself? Maybe what he’d wanted was a one-time thing and nothing more.

Or, maybe he was just as hot for you as you were for him.

Knowing there was only one way to find out, you fished out the duplicate key to your room from your clutch and pressed it to the sensor. The little beep let you know to go ahead and turn the handle; with a shaky breath, you did.

“Was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”

Roy Kent sat on the couch, the top buttons of his shirt undone, legs crossed, drink in hand, looking like sex personified. He stood up and grabbed the untouched drink that sat on the little coffee table and crossed the room to hand it to you as the door closed behind you.

“Empress.”

You took the drink, unable to suppress the smile that tugged on your lips. “Roy Kent. In my hotel room. Drinking scotch.” You took a sip. “Why does this feel familiar?”

He took your free hand in his and led you back to the couch. Feeling utterly bold, you swung your legs over his lap, pleased with the surprised look in his eye, and even more pleased when he let his hand rest on your shin. He stared, not at your highly exposed body, but at your face, his fiery gaze holding yours carefully.

“You were fucking brilliant today,” he murmured, letting his thumb stroke your shin, natural and casual, as if he did this every night. “Knew from the moment you started your car that you were going to win.” He tilted his head back, the corner of his lips tugging upwards. “Really glad you did.”

You eyed him over the rim of your glass as you took a long sip. “You make a bet with someone that I was going to win?” you teased, kicking off your shoes.

“Something like that.” He finished his scotch and placed his glass back on the table, keeping a firm grip on your legs. “Now, what’s this about you wanting a big fucking trophy?”

“Well, you did promise me something about your pants if I won today.” You sat up, bringing your face to his, nudging his nose with yours. “And I did win.”

“Guess you get a big fucking trophy then.”

His mouth captured yours, somehow even more desperate than last time, scotch and desire on his tongue. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed the glass you held and placed it next to his, freeing your hands to grab onto his shoulders as you lifted yourself onto his lap, that familiar bulge pressing against you.

“Been waiting all weekend for this,” he mumbled against your mouth, tangling one hand in your hair, and letting the other grip your hip. “All fucking weekend, watching you strut around in that little racing suit.” His mouth trailed down your jaw towards your neck. “Gorgeous fucking thing.”

You rolled your hips into his, not bothering to hide your moan. “And what if I hadn’t won?” you teased, squeezing his shoulders. “What would’ve happened to my big fucking trophy?”

“Then you’d get a big fucking consolation prize.” The hand on your hip found your ass, giving it a squeeze. “Because I was not leaving this weekend without fucking you.”

His brazen, dirty words had you gasping even louder than his clothed hardness. “Fucking hell,” was all you could huff out, giving another thrust down onto him. “Get me into the fucking bedroom already.”

“Whatever you say, Empress.”

You didn’t need to tell Roy twice. Just like Thursday, he held you against him, bringing his mouth back to yours as he traced the now-familiar path to the bedroom, fighting the urge to rip the dress off your body; it could hardly be called a dress anyway, it barely covered a damn thing. And what it did cover, he was desperate to see.

The two of you collapsed onto the bed, Roy on top of you, careful not to press his weight on you. As soon as your back hit the mattress, your hands were on the remaining buttons of his shirt, carelessly opening them, not feeling an ounce of guilt when one ripped off the material and bounced onto the floor. As soon as the last button was undone, you thrust the shirt over his shoulders and tossed it aside.

Finally- fucking finally- you had a piece of Roy Kent’s clothing gone. You broke the kiss to take a good look at his chest, as if you hadn’t just been looking at shirtless photos of him the night before while doing your usual pre-race “ritual”. A sigh flew out of your mouth as your hands trailed down his chest, gripping that thick, dark hair that you wanted to bury your face in.

When you gave a particularly demanding tug at his hair, Roy let out a hiss and gave a jerk, the material against your bare thighs reminding you that he still had his pants on.

“Can I have my prize?” you purred, fiddling with the zipper of his pants; you realized with a smug satisfaction that he’d taken off his belt before you’d even arrived at the suite.

He buried his face in your neck, hands roaming your body. “You can have whatever the fuck you want,” he growled. “Fucking champion. Fucking Empress.”

Determined to take him up on that, your nimble fingers made quick work of his pants, helping him tug them down. Once they were off, he turned over, tugging you to sit on top of him. Your hands and eyes took their time roaming his body; it was everything you knew it would be: strong, muscular, hot to the touch. And now it was the one thing you wanted it to be: yours.

“This would be one hell of a consolation prize,” you whispered, bringing one hand to cup his cheek. “Glad I won. Feel like I deserve it.” You said it in a joking voice, but some small part of you meant it.

He laid his hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Believe me,” he breathed. “You deserve anything you want.”

The two of you paused, both taken aback by the tenderness of the moment, this interruption to the hot desperation. Roy let out an awkward huff and brought your hand to his mouth, giving your palm a rough kiss.

“You’re the Empress, after all. Fucking royalty and shit.” He was trying to play it off, to act like he’d been flirting and nothing more.

And you decided to join him in playing along. “Then why the fuck am I still wearing my dress?”

His wicked smile returned as his hands shot to your zipper, pulling it down harshly; you were pretty sure he might’ve ripped the dress as he tugged it over your head, but you didn’t care. He wasted no time getting your bra off, smiling at the sight of your bare breasts.

“Oh, I remember you two,” he chuckled, reaching up to grope them. His hands kneaded and tugged and squeezed until he was satisfied with your perky nipples and the groans flying out of your mouth. Determined to hear your pretty noises some more, he bucked up, the sensation more intense now that only two very thin pieces of material lay between you.

He flipped you over, resuming his position hovering over you. His mouth met yours sloppily as he began grinding his clothed length against you, torturing you, knowing you were desperate to get the last bit of his clothing off.

“Fucking tease,” you huffed, fiddling with the waistband of his boxers.

He chuckled and gave a painfully slow grind. “Oi, play nice,” he warned playfully, nipping at your swollen bottom lip. “Patience is a fucking virtue.”

With that, he tugged at your panties, sliding them down your thighs at that tantalizing pace of his. He watched your face shamelessly as your features twisted when you felt his hands brush past your heat.

“Roy,” you whined, bucking up. “Please.”

He throbbed at the sight of you: hair completely mussed, lips red and swollen, eyes glassy, stunning body frantically writhing beneath him, trying to get just a hint of friction. Despite how desperate you appeared, Roy knew the truth: you were in charge.

“Oh, gorgeous,” he cooed, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Just let me enjoy this. Let me enjoy you. Please.”

Unable to say no to the begging eyes he was giving you, you nodded and rocked your hips into his, your own eyes pleading with him to fucking touch you.

He obeyed and brought a strong hand down to your pussy, groaning when he felt how soaked you already were. “This for me?” When you nodded, he moaned again. “Fucking love it.” Though tempted to repeat Thursday night and devour your sweetness, Roy instead watched you carefully as he inserted two fingers into you, his cock twitching when he heard the lewd noises coming out of your mouth as you clenched around his fingers.

He set a slow pace, pumping in and out, practically drooling with the knowledge that soon, his cock would be replacing his lucky fingers. His mouth found yours again, greedily swallowing your moans, tasting your neediness on his tongue.

“Roy,” you hissed as he hit a particularly deep spot. “Give me my fucking trophy. Please.”

He chuckled, caught off-guard by the joking tone in your strangled voice. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Your whole body melted when Roy pulled down his boxers and you felt his hot tip, already leaking, press against you. Your hips bucked up to meet him, gasping when you felt him so fucking close to your entrance.

With your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, you missed the smile Roy had for you, watching you squirm before he’d even entered you. Fuck, if he thought you were a goddess up on the podium, you were otherworldly beneath him right now.

The kind of beauty a careless man could fall in love with.

He concealed a moan in your neck as he slowly buried himself in you, the gentle pace allowing his mind to come to terms with the fact that he was fucking the woman he’d spent far too many hours fantasizing about.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he felt you clench around him. “Fucking perfect.” He pressed his mouth to yours, stuffing your throat with his moans and hisses and fucks. Once he felt you relax and adjust to his size- filling you up even better than you’d ever imagined and- holy shit what is this heavenly curve you feel?- he began thrusting into you, setting a steady pace that had your toes curling.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, wondering how much closer two people could get, and gripped his chest, tugging at that dark hair, while his hands held your hips tight enough that you knew you’d have bruises in the morning.

If you’d thought the sounds from before were lewd, they were nothing to now. Roy was grunting and moaning like a madman, and you were pretty sure the people in the room next to yours could hear your cries of pleasure, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that Roy was in your bed, considering the way you moaned his name. And the wet sounds of skin on skin rounded out the dirty symphony that filled the room that would undoubtedly have that sweet smell of sex in the morning.

As you felt your climax build around his cock, you found yourself hoping, in some little part of your mind, that this wouldn’t be the last time you fucked Roy Kent.

You couldn’t dwell on the fleeting thought for long once he gave a particularly rough thrust, sending you over the edge. You spasmed in his grasp, babbling his name and fuck over and over. He chuckled through his own moans, pressing a sweet kiss to your swollen lips.

“Good girl,” he grunted, rocking you through your orgasm. “Fucking come for me. You fucking deserve it.”

For the second time, Roy Kent had you seeing stars as your walls gripped him so hard you were almost scared that you’d push him out. But he kept his pace, splitting you open and approaching his own climax.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mumbled through gritted teeth. “Taking me so fucking well. Gonna fucking come for you.”

The blissed-out look on your face, with your glassy eyes and parted lips, sent him over the edge. He shuddered as he spilled into you, his forehead falling against yours. You groaned, your heart and pussy both fluttering at the feeling of being filled by Roy Kent.

Carefully, he pulled out of you, chuckling at the noise you made, a mix between a hiss and a whine, letting him know that you already missed the feeling of him. He rolled over onto his back, turning his head to gaze at you. You met his eyes with a heavenly smile.

“Well,” you chirped breathlessly, “if that’s the champion treatment, guess I’ll have to keep winning.”

He laughed and reached over to brush some hair out of your face. “I have no doubt that you will.”

You relished the fact that he left his palm on your cheek. “Spend the night.” It wasn’t a request or a question.

“Fucking tempting,” he hummed, letting out a disappointed sigh that had you frowning. “But I’m sharing a room with fucking Jamie. Prick’ll notice if I don’t come back.”

“Will Jamie Tartt wake you up with a blowjob?”

A smile- a wide, joyful smile- spread across that handsome face. “Well in that fucking case-” He pulled you to him and kissed your lips, letting his embrace assure you that, at least for tonight, Roy Kent wasn’t going anywhere.