#but in the meantime if you need me i’ll be watching daytime tv in my blankie
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Honeysuckle - Roy Kent x Reader
Honeysuckle (Lonicera) - Meaning: Devotion, affection
Summary: Reader is sick, Roy takes care of them.
Pairing: Roy Kent x Reader
Word Count: 646
Warnings: Language, Reader has a nasty cold, workaholicism, Roy tough loves the reader, Roy being adorably attentive and protective.
Here's a quicky for Day 13! I may have written this cuz I've been fighting a sinus infection and want this hairy foul-mouthed bastard to take care of me cuz I know he'd be amazing at it.
In Bloom Masterlist
Likes, Comments, Reblogs are always appreciated! ❤️
“No fuckin’ way, love,” Roy declared, snatching your work phone from your hand despite your protest. You’d managed to sneak it up to your bedroom without him noticing. Or, at least, you thought you had.
“Roy, come on, I need to—” you said before another wave of hacking coughs overtook your airway, making it impossible to continue.
“No, you’re not fuckin’ workin’ when you’re fuckin’ sick. Taxes your immune system too much, so no I won’t be giving your fuckin’ phone back,” he explained, tucking your work phone in his back pocket and well out of your reach. “But I will give you your iPad, which I disconnected from your work shit.”
“You do know my work shit directly affects you, right?” you asked through a smile. You ran the Richmond AFC account for KBPR, which was a pretty hands-on assignment.
“And Keely told you they would handle it while you’re out,” Roy reminded. You were loath to take a sick day, let alone two in a row, but Keely had insisted over FaceTime that everything would be handled while you got better. She and Roy had practically bullied you back into bed this morning.
You groaned, leaning back into your pillows. “Fine. I won’t work today. I’ll just sit around and watch daytime telly like a lazy, boring lump and have no purpose.”
“Oi!” Roy’s sharp tone almost made you startle. Bewildered, you looked at him and saw his brows were drawn down, the firm line of his mouth and tightness in his jaw all suggested his frustration. “That’s enough outta you. You are not only the hardest working person I know, you’re also fine as all hell and fuckin’ deserve to have a few days off, especially when you’ve basically become a mucus factory and can’t even breathe through your fuckin’ nose, alright?”
This was the tone he used when players were being too hard on themselves. The tone he used whenever he was trying to boost someone’s confidence. His tough love tone. Yeah, it was tough, but it was fueled by his love for you so you took his words to heart.
“Okay, okay,” you cajoled and he nodded sharply, disappearing from the room only to return moments later with a tray — where did he get a tray? You were sure you didn’t own one — full of things. He put it on the empty spot on your bed where he usually slept.
“Alright, ya got your iPad, tv zapper, tissues, meds, that cinnamon tea you like, a little pot of honey, some cough drops, some chocolates, that trashy romance novel you’ve been reading, and I put your mug warmer on your nightstand in case the tea gets cold. I gotta go run training, but I’ll be back in a few hours to check on ya. If you need anything in the meantime, text me, yeah?”
“Yeah, Roy, I will,” you promised.
“I mean anything, more tea, whatever. Don’t lift a fuckin’ finger, I’ll send Will over to — ya know what, I’ll just have him come over now in case—” He looked down at his phone, starting to text, but you put your hand on his forearm to stop him. Your heart swelled with love for this man, and you couldn’t help but beam at him.
“Roy, you don’t need to send Will to babysit. I’ll be okay until you get back.”
“You sure, love?” he asked, looking at you like he wanted to secure you in bubble wrap.
You coughed, then stretched a little. “Yeah, I’ll probably just go back to sleep.”
Roy nodded, “Good. Get your rest.” His phone chimed. “I gotta go, Beard wants to meet early about Man City’s defensive line.”
“Right, you go, I’ll stay here and nap.”
Roy bent over and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. “Love you.”
You beamed up at him, “Love you more.”
#writing challenge#fanfiction#in bloom#fluff#ted lasso fanfic#ted lasso fic#ted lasso fanfiction#roy kent x reader#roy kent x you#sick fic#he's here he's there he's every fucking where#roy kent
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fic prompt: Matt and foggy raising Sam like overbearing parents. that includes making sure he makes good decisions including dating life
Couldn’t imagine Ini Matt and Fogs getting involved in Sam’s dating life, anon. But I could imagine Kirsten unwittingly becoming her mother in that kind of situation, so please do have a smidge of that:
–
Sam was 100% flirting with someone over there on that phone of his. He kept checking it like he was waiting on a phone call from a potential employer and alternated between a frown and slow grin when his “friend” messaged him back.
Kirsten would not rest until this person had been vetted and she had just the guy for the job.
Matt and Tuesday stared at her with the exact same expression on their faces when she got them alone in Matt’s office.
“Kirsten,” Matt said slowly, “Did you forget that this is a screen-based activity?”
CURSES.
Foggy it was then. He was a serial gossiper and fervent protector of Sams. He would do it.
–
Foggy had covered his desk in paper like a daytime tv detective trying to find his murdered wife. He hunched protectively over it when Kirsten opened his door.
She analyzed the situation.
“Foggy, you can’t read blueprints,” she said, “You need to stop trying.”
“I can,” Foggy snapped. “And I will. You just wait.”
Alright sure. When the end of time came around, they’d be ready and waiting. In the meantime: Sam.
Foggy failed to give the appropriate response to Kirsten’s articulated concerns.
“He’s 24, Kirsten,” he said. “I’d be more worried if he wasn’t talking to people.”
No, but listen.
Sam was their 24 year-old now. Theirs. To cherish and protect from the great, wide world. He was young and vulnerable, in heart and in mind—but especially in heart. They had a responsibility as his mentors to—
“Remember when Matt told Peter never to fuck his best friends?”
–Uh. Rude in the interrupting department, but yes.
“And remember how Peter told Matt to go fuck himself and that he was an adult and could make his own bad decisions, thanks?”
Ooooh. She didn’t like where this was going.
“And then remember how he went out and fucked his best friends and ended up with a highly fulfilling relationship which none of us could have ever predicted given his history of dating people who either wanted to kill him or break him into pieces?”
Really didn’t like where this was going.
“Yes,” she said carefully. “But Sam is different.”
Foggy quirked an eyebrow at her.
“He is,” she argued. “Peter’s a ball of manic energy. Sammy is a gentle soul.”
Foggy stood up and rolled his eyes. He pushed past her in the doorway and barked into the waiting area where Sam had commandeered the secretary desk “Samuel. Do they have a criminal record?”
Sam slammed his phone down on to the desk.
“Who now?” he asked, dragging up the box of files he was supposed to be scanning through.
“Whoever it is you’re messaging,” Foggy said, bold and plain as day.
Sam started scanning faster.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he said.
Foggy gave Kirsten a meaningful look.
Okay, point made. This would be harder than expected. Sammy was shy.
UGH.
–
“Matt, go talk to him,” she threatened that afternoon with a fist at the knot of Matt’s tie. He kept trying to worm his fingers under hers to escape, but she was having none of that today. “He respects you. He’s got to know that it’s okay to talk about these things. What if he goes out and this person’s a murderer, Matt? What if she’s trying to lure him in to break his heart?”
Matt’s giant mitts should not have been that good at finnicky work. He extracted his tie and pulled back, smoothing it down in offense.
“If Sam wants to date a maneater, then he wants to date a maneater,” he said, “And I fail to see how this is my problem—sometimes, you just gotta learn the hard way. Lord knows I did.”
Not the appropriate response, Matthew.
“He’s lying about it,” she said
“He lies about his personal life all the time,” Matt huffed. “Ain’t it enough that he lives downstairs from us? Yeesh, Kirst. Give the guy a break. He’s his own person, you know.”
Yes, and he was allowed to be his own person and make his own mistakes but—
“Darlin’, breathe. He’s gonna be fine. Just let him—”
Matt paused and they both heard Sam call, “I’m headed out, guys! See you later!” followed by the shutting of the main entrance door.
Kirsten grabbed the arms of Matt’s chair and loomed over him.
–
“Samuel.”
Sam was on the counter before she could even say ‘go.’
“Oh, thank god,” he sighed with a hand on his chest when she flicked on the kitchen light switch to reveal herself. “Are you staying the night, Kirsten?”
“Where were you?” she interrogated, feeling maybe a little like her mother, but not bad about it.
“Out?” he tried. He did not step off the counter. He had evidently received this treatment before.
“With who?” she demanded, crossing her arms into Matt’s velvety red bathrobe, the one he’d bought specifically so that he could languish in style on the couch in it while injured. Foggy had been plotting to steal it and get ‘Professional Idiot’ embroidered on the back of it since it first entered the house last year.
“With—” Sam started.
“A girl?” Kirsten snapped. “You out with a girl at this time of night, Samuel? Did you walk her home?”
Sam slowly climbed off the counter.
“Are you my mom now?” he asked. “’Cause you sound exactly like my mom. Are we gonna have a ‘get someone pregnant and I’ll murder you myself’ talk too? ‘Cause I’ve had that one at least forty times.”
Oho.
Ohoho.
Hm.
Actually. That was a pretty good idea.
“Samuel.”
Both of them turned to see Matt looking bed-rumpled and grumpy in the doorway.
“Shoes. Food surface.”
Sam winced.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said. “Cleaning it now. Kirsten surprised me. Apparently we’re having a reverse shovel talk.”
Matt made a series of grumpy old man noises, oblivious to the power that he had over this boy. He turned around to head back to his and Fog’s and the dog’s bedroom, then paused in the middle of the living room and directed a sour look back their way.
“You smell like sex,” he said flat out.
Sam went white and then bright red in an instant.
“I?—I??? Sorry??” he stammered.
“Use protection,” Matt said.
“Yes, sir,” Sam nearly whimpered.
“If you don’t have any, get some or ask.”
Sam could have just about died.
“Yes, sensei,” he said miserably.
Matt grumbled and waved a hand their way in dismissal before abandoning them to go flop down on Foggy again.
Sam and Kirsten watched him vanish into the abyss and then turned back to face each other.
She pointed a finger at him.
He pointed one back.
“These are my adult, informed decisions which I am making and have made with consenting, also informed adults,” he said before she could get a word in. “Also, you are not my mom or my sister and while I respect you and what you’re doing, we aren’t there yet. So, like. I dunno. Boundaries, please?”
She didn’t like it.
But you know what?
She got it.
“Fine,” she said “But I want to know all their names and if they’re cute and if they’re nice so I know who I need to fight if something ever goes south.”
Sam considered that for a long, long moment.
“Deal,” he said.
They shook on it.
“CLEAN THE COUNTER,” Matt shouted just before they split off in mutual agreement.
–
#fic#samuel chung#kirsten mcduffie#I am fascinated by Sam's relationship with Kirsten#like he'll defer to Matt easy and he views Foggy as an extension of Matt in some ways and so defers to him and wants to please him too#but Kirsten is a whole different story#She's vehemently part of Matt and yet not part of him and she's Sam's friend but also one of his bosses#and as a woman she has a different relationship with him which both he and she are struggling to define#ficlet
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Lonely Boy || March 1997
Benjy’s arm itches in the sling, and he’s annoyed that he has to wear it for a few more days ‘just to be safe.’ He can’t do any of his exercises now, so he’s just stuck watching daytime TV and having a series of nurses turn him over and move his legs and arms around. It was only eighty percent degrading, and Benjy was finally at the point where this whole thing was just annoying. He’s bored, bored as hell. He moves the tray connected to the bed back and forth, back and forth, staring at the phone. He’d been calling Lolo every night after her shift ended and Shay went to bed, but it was currently 2 in the afternoon. She’d be busy, there was no one to keep him entertained...except…
Benjy’s punches the numbers in easily but the voice at the other end surprises him.
“Hello?”
“Hey Mare, it’s Benjy.”
“Oooooh human swiss cheese. How goes it?”
Benjy laughs. Mary is Moody’s wife, but she was close to Benjy’s age. She’d actually been an informant for narcotics during the brief time that Benjy was on that squad, and she’d been able to turn her life around after the rehab they had sent her to. They’d stayed friends, strictly so. Mary had met up with Benjy and Moody a many times after their shifts at a pub, drunk solely water, and stolen Moody’s heart. They’d gotten married last year, and Benjy was absolutely not allowed to wear a sash that had said ‘the catalyst for love’ even though it was true.
“I’m sore and bored. Is Al around? I was going to sequester is company.”
“Er…”
“What?”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this because it’s definitely going to bum you out...but Al’s back at work.”
“Oh.”
She was right, Benjy was decidedly bummed out. That was something Al got to do, something Benjy himself would never be able to do again.
“Shit.”
“No, no Mare, it’s okay. I’m just surprised, that fast?”
“Mmmhm. He was driving me up a fucking tree puttering around here, so I encouraged it. He’s in a sling and on desk duty and thrilled out of his mind as I’m sure you can imagine.”
Benjy takes a minute to imagine his partner, angrily chain smoking and cursing out his sling and anyone who walked too close to his desk for good measure.
“Oh I can imagine. Well, are you busy?”
“I mean, you’d be interrupting my schedule of being pregnant and miserable, so I think I could fit you in.”
“Pregnant?!”
“Oh...shit yeah, Al said he didn’t get around to telling you given everything... but yeah, mate. We’re having a kid. Isn’t that wild?”
For a split second heart aches with jealousy for their life, with sorrow for the life he wouldn’t be able to have now, thanks to the useless limbs he’s forced to look at day in and day out. He shakes himself, and the joy he genuinely feels for his friends fills him.
“Holy shit. I’m so happy for you guys.”
“Yeah, everyone is. It’s so fucking cool and scary and exciting And I mean, having a baby inside of you is a really good motivator to never want to do heroin ever again, it’s crazy.”
Benjy laughs.
“I suppose I’ll keep that in mind if these pain killers become a bit too tempting….oh, hey, not being a jackass, but uh, would coming here be okay for you?”
“Yeah mean seeing all those drugs?”
“...yeah.”
“I’ll manage somehow, arsehole. Be worth it to see you, anyhow. That was super rude of you, by the way?”
Benjy’s eyebrows come together in worry.
“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to look out-”
“Not that. Almost dying. That’s incredibly rude. Don’t do it again.”
Benjy laughs softly.
“I’ll do my best.”
“Good.”
“Hey Mary? Before you come here could you do me a favor?”
“You mean other than blessing you with my presence?”
“In addition to that, I need you to swing by my apartment and grab a few things….”
~
“Hey bitch.” Mary greets him, grinning, as she enters the room, holding two duffel bags he recognizes from his apartment. Benjy sees a tiny bit of a baby bump poking out of her long floral dress, and she’s swept her long black hair into a bun at the base of her neck. It must be warm out today, rare for March, and Benjy desperately wishes he could go outside.
“Hi trouble.”
Mary dumps the bags at the door and crosses to his bed. She’d seen him briefly when Al had still been admitted but Benjy hadn’t really been up to talking then. She bends and kisses his cheek, and Benjy is reminded what a true platonic kiss feels like.
“Nice to see you got over being catatonic.”
Benjy laughs.
“Yeah I had a pretty convincing and dedicated nurse.”
“Oh, Cleona? Heard she’s cute too.”
Benjy gives her a look.
“No idea what you’re talking about.
“Sure. So, I brought you some clothes. And I hid all your porno mags so if you need to send your new girlfriend over for something, she won’t find all your gay shit and leave you.”
Benjy rolls his eyes as Mary crosses the room to get his clothes out and put in the wardrobe in the room.
“Okay first of all, she’s not my girlfriend, and secondly, she knows about me being bi.”
Mary raises an eyebrow. She and Al both knew but they were honestly the only two people in his life currently who did.
“Really?”
“It’s not a secret, Mare. I just don’t advertise it at work. Not that there’s any work to worry about now anyway so…”
“Okay, drama queen. Here.”
She throws a sweatshirt at him and he catches it with his unslung arm.
“Thanks. I’ll lay this across my chest dramatically.”
“Oh.” Mary actually looks embarrassed. “I uh-forgot. Sorry. You just still seem like you.”
“I am still me. Just bloody useless at everything.”
She crosses to him and expertly starts removing the white lost and found t shirt carefully over his head.
“Hush. You’ll get your strength back. In the meantime, I’m doing this for Al too. It’s honestly good practice for the baby, so thank you.”
Benjy groans, not thrilled with being compared to an infant.
“Thanks for that.”
“Anytime.”
Satisfied, Benjy looks down and smiles at the London PD sweatshirt she’d put him in. It feels nice to be back in his own clothes. Normal. Safe. Mary grabs the second duffel bag and drops it next to the side of Benjy’s bed with a loud thunk.
“Now this bloody thing, making my pregnant arse drag a stereo and tape collection around London? You better have a good reason.”
Benjy’s eyes light up as she sets everything down on his bedside table.
“Thank youuuu. Lolo made me a mix tape and her birthday is next week so I want to make her- What?!”
Mary is grinning at him in a very annoying way.
“Nothing. She sounds like a great friend.”
“Piss off, MacDonald.”
“No, I’m being serious. I always make my friends mixtapes.”
She settles herself on the edge of his bed, near his legs. It’s still so weird to him that he can’t feel the heat of her body next to him, or weight of her beside him.
“Shut up. She made it with her kid and they gave it to me when they came to see me last week.”
“She brought her kid? Damn.” She looks over at him significantly.
“What? Mary. She’s not interested in me. She never went home with me before I was a fucking broken pile of shit. Why would she want me now?”
Mary shakes her head, hand instictively going to her little belly.
“God, you know, I always thought boys would stop being fucking morons when I got older. Thanks for proving me wrong, Benjy.”
He sets his jaw, actually getting annoyed now.
“Look, if you’re just going to sit there and call me names you can go.”
“You deserve to be called names! She likes you, idiot. She might even be in love with you. Not going home with someone doesn’t mean you’re not interested, it means you’re being...careful. Maybe she’s insecure about if she’d be good enough for you.”
“Pssh. Right.”
“Don’t you spend every weekend in her bar getting women to go home with you?”
“Did. Past tense. No one wants to fuck the guy in the wheelchair.”
“Oooh pity party. Fun. Point is, Fenwick, she might have shit going on that doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Impossible, everything has to do with me.”
Mary smiles and when Benjy’s good hand reaches for hers, she takes it. Benjy takes a deep breath in.
“Can I tell you a secret, Mary?”
Her brown eyes get bigger. “Anything.”
“I like her.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Who?”
He sighs and gives her a look.
“Cleona. I like her a lot.”
“Mmhm.”
“I might even...no it’s too stupid to say. But how could I even ask her to give up so much for me? Even just dating me puts her in such a weird position. She’s a single mum, a student, she doesn’t need my literal dead weight dragging her down.”
“Have you asked her?”
“What?”
Mary leans back against his legs, both hands on her belly now, the dark skin of her hands standing out brilliantly against the colorful flowers. Benjy studies her face as she turns to look at him.
“Have you asked her?”
“Asked her what?”
“Asked her if she’d be willing to do that. Give up being ‘normal’ to be with you.”
Benjy shakes his head and Mary raises an eyebrow yet again. “You’re afraid she’ll say no?”
“Mary. I’m afraid she’ll say yes. And I can’t do that to her.”
Mary studies him, silent, looking suddenly older, wise. Benjy starts to squirm under her gaze, and finally gets agitated enough to ask “What?”
“You’re really stupidly noble, aren’t you?”
He sighs and shakes his head, looking away.
“I just want her to be happy. I won’t ever-I can’t make her happy in the way she deserves. And-”
He’s surprised that his voice breaks. He sniffs loudly before shaking his head again.
“Just forget it. Please?”
“Okay.”
He watches as Mary squeezes his leg, forgetting herself, but Benjy doesn’t say anything about it.
“Mare, uh, I really appreciate you coming all this way but I think-I need to be alone right now.”
“Of course.”
He’d been expecting a bigger argument, but she just smiles at him softly.
“Take care of yourself, you big idiot. I love you lots.”
She stands and hugs what parts of him she can, and Benjy hugs her back.
“I’ll try. Also if you don’t name that baby after me, I’ll be pissed.”
Mary narrows her eyes at him.
“What if it’s a girl?”
“Benjamina is a beautiful name.”
Mary laughs and presses a quick kiss to his forehead before getting up and heading to the door.
“I’ll keep it in mind. And Benjy?”
“Yeah?”
“I think you should ask her. For the record.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
Mary shakes her head at him, smiling.
“Fair. I’ll have Al call you tonight. Maybe we’ll come by when he’s off?”
“I’d like that.”
“Okay. Bye, Benjy.”
“Bye Mare.”
She leaves without any more fanfare, and Benjy pulls the collection of cassettes that Mary had brought him onto his lap to start looking. He’d had Cleona’s mix on repeat since she’d left him that first night, and he wanted to give her one that would do it justice. He’s examining one of his Queen cassettes to see if it’s the one with “Liar” on it when he hears a knock at his door. It’s one of the nurses whose name he can’t ever remember.
“Hey, Mr. Popular. Someone else is here to see you. Thought I’d double check to make sure you were expecting another guest.”
Benjy’s heart leaps into his throat. Graham had found him again.
“Who?”
The nurse shrugs.
“Uh, older guy, a bit scruffy? I can go ask…?”
Benjy smiles. Graham had never been described as scruffy in his entire life. It had to be Al, maybe Mary called him earlier and told him to swing by.
“No, it should be fine. Probably a friend from work.”
The nurse leaves and Benjy focuses on his tapes, glancing up casually when he hears someone come in, but he stops to stare. The man hovering in his doorway certainly wasn’t Alastor Moody, but there was something familiar about him that Benjy couldn’t quite place.
“Um...hello?”
“Hello. Are you-” The man’s accent is posh. He looks older the longer Benjy looks at him. Benjy finds his call button, suddenly feeling helpless again. Time to make Keith fuck someone up. “Are you Benjamin Fenwick?”
“....maybe. Who are you?”
“Was your mother named Samira?”
Benjy’s blood runs cold, he knows what the man is going to say next.
“My name is Robert. And I think I’m your father.”
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