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axelsagewrites · 8 months

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Roy Kent*Bus Buddy

Pairing: Roy x reader

Word count: 2511

Warnings: pure fluff, Jamie flirting with reader, protective Roy, swearing

Masterlist here

at the same time that Ted got hired Rebecca had also decided she needed an assistant to enact her perfect revenge, so the boys often saw you walking around Richmond or at press interviews. Any time you entered the locker room wolf whistles from Jamie rang across the room followed by a loud ‘shut it’ from Roy. Usually, you’d object to Jamies actions, but the routine had become so common you found it funny especially when Roy dogged him into Keeley one time, and you saw him drag Jamie by the ear.

You weren’t sure why the tough and silent Roy Kent was so protective of you, but you were grateful to know walking into a locker room filled with men that he had your back. the longer you were around the team though you realised none of the boys would even hurt a fly.

still locker rooms or crowded hotel lobbies could get rowdy, and Roy almost acted as security, weaving you through the crowd and telling everyone to fuck off. any thanks you gave him were met with grunts, nods, or two-word answers.

sometimes you had to talk to Roy though, but you never complained. whenever you had forms for him to sign or events you wanted him to attend, sadly only on a work basis, he gladly complied without fuss. feeling his hand brush, yours as he took the pen from your hand or getting to secretly glance at his face as he filled out the forms was enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

you’d convinced yourself your crush was harmless. after all he was Roy Kent, an absolutely loaded footballer with an exterior tougher than diamond. its not like you flirted with him or stared at him. well not on purpose at least.

this weekend saw Richmond visiting another stadium a six-hour drive away for their next match. usually, you travelled with Rebecca but due to some other things she had to get done this weekend, aka a spa trip with Keeley you were secretly so jealous about, she had decided to send you as a representative. however, this also meant you got to arrive at Richmond Friday afternoon with a packed bag and a bunch of rowdy footballers.

“Well look who our newest bus buddy is,” Ted said, putting his hands on his hips as you approached the gaggle of men. “Hope you don’t mind being down graded to ride with us bunch of savages,” he joked as he ticked your name off his clipboard. you really did appreciate Teds soccer mom vibes.

You laughed as you dragged your suitcase up to stand by Ted at the bus, “Please how bad can it be? it’s just a bus,”

“Yeah, but with these twats,” Roy’s voice made Ted jump, but you just turned and smiled, ready to say hi, but Roy just walked past you. He picked up his suitcase, tossing it under the bus before turning back and picking yours up and placing yours in with far more care than he had with his own. When you said thanks, Roy just nodded before heading onto the bus, assumably to secure the most isolated spot he could.

Ted let out a low whistle as Roy walked off, “He’s a charmer alright,” he said, his eyes scurrying around before leaning down to whisper to you, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think he’s sweet on you,” You laughed but before you could even try to deny it Ted was pointing at your face, “and if I’m not blind you my friend are blushing,”

“Shut up Ted,” was all you managed to say before Nate walked over and thankfully Ted knew better than to keep going in front of him.

while you were talking to Nate and Ted the bus all the players had arrived and assembled on the bus. you were the last to climb on the bus since even though you knew it couldn’t be that bad six hours on a bus was still a dire experience. “Oi need a seat love?” Jamie hollered from the back of the bus, already tossing his bag to his feet.

“There’s a seat by me,” Dani pipped up from a few rows in front of Jamie.

you laughed, trying to think who would be the least awkward seat mate. however, as you went to move forward, figuring Dani would be less out right flirty than Jamie you were stopped by Roy standing up from his seat and stepping into the aisle.

when you looked up at him, expecting him to say something, he just looked down at the window seat he had just given up. you smiled as you moved to sit down, “Thanks,” you said squeezing past him, “Thanks boys but I prefer the front of the bus,” you said before settling down for the ride.

Roy dropped into the aisle seat and while you knew he was trying to keep in his seat the bus seats were only so big, so your thighs were bumping into each other, “Thanks for saving me,” you whispered to him.

Roy chuckled under his breath, “Really think I’d let you get tortured back there like that?” he whispered back making his voice sound even sexier if possible. the bus set off only a few minutes later and now you were trapped in a bus with 25 rowdy men who instantly started talking amongst themselves and playing bus games. “Bet you wish you’d never got on this bus,” Roy said in a low voice but with all the noise at least you didn’t have to whisper.

“Nah I don’t mind, honest,” you said, settling into your seat, “Sitting in a silent plane with Rebecca can get awkward,”

“Sorry I’ve not got any champagne for ya,” Roy joked and for the rest of the ride you actually talked the whole way which is the longest you’ve ever spoke to him for. you were almost sad when the bus pulled up outside the hotel.

without a word Roy had grabbed your suitcase and his, walking into the hotel still wrapped up in a debate about which ice cream flavour was superior. “Checking in together?” The receptionist asked making you blush, and Roy clear his throat.

“Eh no, separate,” he said, glancing down at you but you wish he hadn’t since you knew your cheeks were flaming hot as you gave the woman your information. however, after getting checked in Roy still carried your cases, taking them up to your room with you in silence. He sat the bag down in front of your room for you as you unlocked the door, “I’m just down the hall. 203. so eh if anyone gives you bother or these twats are too loud tonight give me a knock,”

“Will do captain,” you said, trying your best to stay composed as you got into your room, shutting the door behind you so you could freak out.

the next day was too hectic to even think about flirting with Roy or even catching a glimpse of him off the field. however, Richmond had managed to secure a tie which for them right now was a big win. however, what was not a big win was the fact that you had to get back in the coach that day since the team had a bunch of press to do tomorrow at Richmond.

between the game, the press interviews, everyone showering and getting into clean clothes, and checking out you weren’t even set to leave till 10pm despite the game kicking off at 1:30pm. you were already yawning as you came down the lift to the reception.

most of the boys were also absolutely shattered. running for 90 minutes straight at full speed was tiring enough without also having to pack and do press. you had got to sit during the game, but you also had the job of Rebecca all day so now you really understood why she needed that spa weekend. “Bus said it’ll be pulling up in five minutes,” you yawned as you sat your bag down, “Head count time,” you said.

you felt like a primary teacher, but you didn’t care as you walked around, counting each player as you put your hand on their head. they were all too tired to complain and even Issac let you touch his hair. “twenty three,” you said, counting Dani before stopping, “Wow your hair is soft,” you gasped before continuing as Dani beamed from his seat, “Twenty four,” you said, reaching up to pat Roy’s head but you were too tired to see the way he smiled at you when you did, “Twenty five,” you finished, putting your hand on your own head making Roy chuckle quietly. “We didn’t lose anyone, great job team. now shift it, I wanna sleep,”

“You heard her twats, get moving,” Roy said, his loud voice shocking everyone including the hotel staff. at least it got the boys moving though. Roy cleared his throat as he glanced down at you, “Need a seat buddy again?” he asked as you filed out behind all the boys.

you smiled up at him, “Yeah that’d be nice. Its your turn for the window seat,”

“I don’t mind, you keep it,” he said as you finally got to the bus. the boys were all tossing their cases in and filing into the bus with very few mumblings between them. you were silently thankful everyone was exhausted, “Just don’t fall asleep standing,” Roy’s joke snapped you back to reality as he loaded in your cases.

“Fine but I make no promises about the bus,” you said as you walked to get on, Roy offering for you to go first. a sweet gesture to you and silently Roy was grateful for the chance to check out your ass. “This seat, okay?” you said, plopping down into the first available seat. Roy didn’t even reply as he sat down next to you.

Ted was the last to get on and while you usually loved his speeches today you just did not care. “Now all yall try get some shut eye. Six hours of sleep would do you all the world of good right now,”

“Yes coach,” rang out in a sleepy chorus as everyone settled in to nap on the bus for the night.

as you looked around you saw Jamie in the seat across from you with a blanket already pulled over him and Dani a seat behind you with an eye mask on, “I am clearly not prepared,” you joked quietly to Roy.

Roy looked over, seeing his fellow teammates who were used to these late-night busses, “You can borrow my jacket if you get cold,” Roy said quietly making you inwardly melt, “Not much of a blanket but it’s warm,”

“I’ll think about it,” you yawned, making Roy smile as he saw how you stretched away your sleep. or well tried to. the ride set off and you could already hear soft snores across the bus. any of the boys who couldn’t sleep had headphones in and you had never been more grateful.

you sat in silence, looking out the window as the head lights of other cars went past and let yourself sink further into your seat. you barely noticed when Roy shrugged his jacket off or realise how close to him you were getting but you could feel your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment.

Roy however had noticed the soft snores coming from you when your eyes had finally closed, unable to fight sleep off anymore. he was thankful everyone was asleep or not paying attention as he got to look down at you sleeping on his shoulder with a soft smile. after a few minutes, sure you were asleep, he gently pulled his jacket over you like a blanket.

he wasn’t sure when he had fell for you or why, but he’d known for weeks now that he liked you. hell, more than liked. there was just something about you and right now you looked downright adorable as you nuzzled further into him. Roy slipped his arm behind your back, allowing you to properly sleep on him and his hand to rest on your waist.

usually, Roy was far too tense or pent up in rides home to sleep on the bus, especially with a team he just knew were desperate to draw something on his face, but Roy was surprised when he opened his eyes and sunlight blinded him.

the bus was pulling up to Richmond at an ungodly 4 am when Roy realised, he had fallen asleep, his head resting on top of yours. without thinking, still in a sleepy state, Roy pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he moved to sit up. however, when he saw you stir awake, he kicked himself internally, “Are we here?” you yawned, pulling away from him and Roy already missed the feeling of you curled up to him.

“Looks like it,” Roy said as you looked down to realise it had been Roy’s jacket covering you, “You uh looked cold,” Roy said, clearing his throat and thankful he had a beard to cover the way his cheeks grew hot.

“Thanks,” you said, a sleepy smile playing your lips as the rest of the team started to wake. “Did you manage to sleep?”

“A bit yeah,” Roy said, and it was as you shuffle forward Roy realised his mistake when you looked down at his arm, “Sorry bout that,” he mumbled, quickly pulling his arm out from where it had been wrapped around your waist.

“It’s alright I don’t mind,” you said, a smile toying your lips as you stretched to try wake up.

without anything else said, really by anyone, you all filtered off the bus and Roy went to get both your suitcases. Roy cleared his throat as he went to pass yours to you, a nervous habit you’d only just really noticed, “Do you need a lift up the road? my cars just over there,”

“If you don’t mind that’d be great,” you said, so relieved you weren’t going to have to sleep in Rebeccas office, “Don’t hate me if I fall asleep in the car though,”

“Couldn’t hate you if I tried,” Roy said as he took the suitcase back and began to walk to his car. you blushed as you followed behind him, climbing into the passenger side as Roy loaded the bags in, “You all set?” Roy asked as he hopped into the driver’s seat.

when Roy glanced over, he couldn’t help but laugh when he noticed you were already asleep in the car. Roy reached over, buckling you in before getting ready to hit the road. he’d dropped you off a few times from work so he knew the way already, but Roy couldn’t stop himself stealing so many glances at the sight of you. there was no avoiding his feelings now. Roy Kent was in love.

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #ted lasson smut #ted lasso season one #roy kent #roy kent imagine #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent x y/n #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #roy kent fanfic

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thewritingofamadwoman · 5 months

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That’s My Girl

Another attempt at writing Roy Kent. Inspired by the amazingly sweet @onceuponaoneshotfanfic

Pairing: Roy Kent x Fem!Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Tons of fluff, more of Roy Kent’s potty mouth, a secret relationship and Jamie Tartt being the reader and Roy’s unofficial child.

Enjoy!!

The second the words “no curfew tonight” came out of Ted Lasso’s mouth, you just knew the evening was going to be a fun one. Both you and Roy had agreed on the way to Amsterdam that you’d both spend the last night together, sightseeing and then staying in bed for hours while everyone else was none the wiser.

As the team’s co-pr manager, it was imperative that you tagged along on the trip for business reasons; Rebecca also told you if you didn’t come along and enjoy yourself she’d purposely make your life hell. So here you are, on the charter bus with the rest of your friends. You looked down at your phone, the time reading 5pm. Roy suggested meeting up at around 9pm, when everyone else was surely going to be in their rooms. It was the perfect plan…which meant it probably wasn’t going to happen.

You looked over at Roy, who gave you a sly wink before getting up and roaring at Jamie Tartt.

“Not for you Tartt!”

Your beloved got up and grabbed Jamie’s bag, tossing it to Will before storming outside. Jamie, depressed that he’d be spending the rest of his time in Amsterdam training, got up from his seat reluctantly. Before heading out, he stretched and looked back, noticing you seated in the back. As if having a moment of clarity, his brain immediately came up with what he thought was an ingenious plan. He called your name and once you looked up at him, he put his plan into action.

“Hey love, do you have any plans right now?” He smiled, everyone else on the bus discussing their potential curfew free plans.

“Not really, I was gonna head back to my room and nap for a bit I guess. Why?”

Jamie’s smile widened.

“Nahhh a gorgeous girl like you alone in a hotel room? Not happening. Come on, hang out with me and grandad for a bit.”

You laughed, and so did some of the players listening in.

“Fuck it, why not?” You said, and the bus is filled with loud cheers once more as you made your way towards Jamie, who took your hand and pulled you out of the bus with him. The first thing you saw was Roy’s back to the bus as he stretched his legs.

“Took you fucking long enou-what are you doing here?” Roy asked, his face full of genuine surprise. You shrugged and pointed to Jamie who smiled like the cat who caught the canary.

“This stunner was going to go back to the hotel alone and take a nap. In one of the worlds’ most beautiful cities. I couldn’t let that happen. And who better to keep her company than us fine, young gentleman. Well, some of us more young than others, isn’t that right grandad?”

Roy gave Jamie a deadpan expression and growled lowly. You shook your head and chuckled.

“I hope that’s alright? You don’t mind do you, Roy?” You gave the poor man one of your sweetest smiles, one that Roy had fallen in love with over the course of the last few months. Roy sighed and eventually nodded, the thoughts of the night he had planned for the two of you going down the drain. Jamie cheered and punched Roy’s shoulder, jogging backwards with his hands in the air.

“Come on Roy! Lighten up! Here, I’ll run ahead while you two trail behind me. Can’t have gorgeous here run in those heels. Fantastic heels by the way,” Jamie said as he ran his gaze from your heels to your face, winking as he reached your eyes. The striker was doing his absolute best to get Roy to react to him flirting with you. He knew the coach had feelings for you, it was painstakingly obvious. But he doubted the man would ever make a move. So his “genius plan” was to spend the evening turning on the signature Tartt charm as much as he could until Roy had no choice but to confess his love for you. The perfect plan, Jamie thought to himself.

You blushed at the compliment and laughed , shocked that he was flirting so boldly with you in front of your boyfriend. Not that he knew you two were an item, but still. Roy, on the other hand, was glaring so hard at Jamie that it was a surprise the young man hadn’t combusted into flame. Jamie gave you both a very cheeky smile, turned around, and began to run.

“Come on, grandad! Keep up!”

Roy growled and you laughed once more, causing the older man to look at you.

“And what are you laughing at?” Roy grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as you two began to walk, keeping Jamie in your sights as he ran up ahead.

“At how easy it is for Jamie Tartt to get you riled up. He’s only being silly, don’t let it bother you,” you smiled, reaching over and placing a hand on Roy’s arm.

“And besides, we did want to sightsee, and now we get to do that earlier than planned,” you added, looking around at the beautiful city around you. Roy scoffed and looked back at you.

“Yeah, I wanted us to sightsee without Jamie Fucking Tartt running around like a child we need to keep on a leash.” You giggled and Roy’s lip ticked upwards, the sound of your laugh being one of his favorite things.

“I don’t know babe, this might be a glimpse into our future,” you teased sweetly, looking at Roy playfully. Once again, Roy snorted and turned to look at you.

“Please, our children will be way more behaved than that twat.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about our future children hmm?” Your heart soared at the thought of Roy seeing a future with you. Roy looked at you dumbfounded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course. Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

Your heart melted, and you were about to reply when Jamie suddenly appeared from behind the both of you, squeezing himself in between you and wrapping an arm around each of your shoulders.

“Look at you two, looking all chummy. And look at this magnificent city! Have either of you seen the tulip gardens? Or the windmills? We’re actually coming up to the world famous Skinny Bridge, just up ahead. Did you know that it’s one of the most romantic places in the world? Legend says that a kiss between lovers while on this bridge ensures that they will be in love forever. Isn’t that LOVELY, Roy?”

Jamie had pulled you both close to him, and thus each other as he continued to spit fact after fact about the romantic connotations of the bridge. Roy looked murderous, annoyed at Jamie’s incessant chatter. Roy had originally planned to take you to the bridge later that night to share that very same fact. He was a romantic at heart, and you were one of the very few people to know that about the mysterious Roy Kent. He was also a man with a VERY short fuse.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he growled, and the striker stepped forward from between the two of you and turned around, running in place while he faced you.

“I think it’s lovely, Jamie,” you said, trying to defuse any tension and placate the young man. Jamie beamed at you.

“I thought you would. I bet even someone as tough and grumpy as Roy believes in true love, don’t you Coach?” Jamie began his jumping jacks while looking at Roy, who only grunted in response. The Mancunian then pulled out his phone and handed it to Roy.

“Come on Coach, take a few pictures of the two of us and I’ll take a few of you two as well!” He said enthusiastically as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him towards the bridge. After a few photos with you, Jamie suggested he take a few photos of you alone on the bridge. You agreed, posing and laughing, causing both men to smile as they watched you. Roy even let out a laugh as you posed dramatically on the railing of the bridge. As you continued to look out onto the water, Jamie nudged Roy.

“Look at her, mate. She’s fucking stunning. Do you think she’s seeing anyone? I mean, any man would be a fool not to snatch her up and never let her go. I mean, look at her,” Jamie nodded towards you as you were being approached by another young couple who asked you to take their photo. Roy watched as you smiled politely and took a few pictures of the couple, watching you light up as they loved the pictures and thanked you. Jamie watched Roy’s expression, seeing how the man let down his guard as he looked at you. Jamie nudged him again.

“Go on mate, don’t let someone else come along and steal her away. Don’t let another man have the opportunity to stare at that bum. I mean LOOK at that ass-“ Jamie was cut off from his sweet-turned-idiotic ramble by Roy advancing on him.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Tartt,” but before Roy’s fist could collide with his face, Jamie called your name, catching your attention.

“Would you like some pictures with Coach Kent? I’m sure he’d love to take some with you!”

Jamie watched as Roy glared at him before walking over to you to stand next to you almost begrudgingly.

“What, don’t want to take a picture with me?” You teased him and he gave you a look.

“Don’t start, you know that’s not true.”

“Come on now guys, you’re on a romantic bridge. How about you pretend to, you know, be in love or something. Like a couple. Pose couple-y. Go on.”

You and Roy looked at one another, before you decided to just play along. You stood close to Roy and placed a hand on his chest, stepping closer than you usually would when you weren’t alone together. As if running on autopilot, the second you stood close to him, Roy’s arm snaked around your waist. Jamie whistled and Roy glared even harder than before. You could tell Jamie was starting to get to him.

“Just take the photo please, Jamie.” You pleaded with a small smile. You had a sneaking suspicion that Jamie knew what he was doing but didn’t want to think of that yet, choosing to focus on the smell of Roy’s cologne and the feel of his warmth against you. After a few pictures, Jamie decided to start up on his training again and began skipping forward.

After a few more stops at historic landmarks and a few more ridiculous flirtatious comments and innuendos from Jamie, you paused for a moment of respite by a chip shop. Jamie went in to use the bathroom when you turned to Roy, who was fuming.

“I’m going to fucking kill him. If he talks about windmills ONE more time, I’m going to throw him over the fucking bridge!” You giggled at his anger and tried to soothe him, placing a hand on one of Roy’s arms.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m pretty sure Jamie is either on to us or really wants to play match maker,” you admitted and Roy grunted.

“Yeah I know, he’s a smooth as a bull in a china shop. Phoebe would have been more subtle than him,” You let out a laugh and nodded and Roy continued. “I have half a mind to give in and tell him. But watching him think he’s failing at getting us together truly gives my soul the peace it needs.”

You laughed harder and Jamie finally made his way back with an order of chips in one hand and a tulip in the other. He walked up to you and handed you both.

“Crisp chips and a flower for the lovely lady. Coach maybe you should take notes, this is how you treat a beautiful woman,” Jamie preened and you could see Roy’s resolve begin crumble. Jamie was going to leave Amsterdam with a black eye if he didn’t stop pushing Roy’s buttons. You decided you had enough and made your move.

“I don’t think Roy needs any tips on how to treat a woman, Jamie. He makes sure I’m nice and satisfied at least twice every morning before even heading off to work. Now, if you’re done teasing him: yes we’re together, no, no one knows except for you and we’d like to keep it that way please, and thank you for the chips. Shall we continue?”

You didn’t wait for Jamie or Roy to reply before stepping forward and making your way down the cobblestone street, popping a warm chip into your mouth and twirling the tulip in your hand. Roy’s eyes followed you, full of pride and love, impressed at how you handled the situation. Jamie, however, looked like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing before finding words.

“You fucking cunts, you’ve been together this entire time?? For how long?? I’ve been trying to get you to admit you like her for HOURS!”

Roy gave a smug, satisfied smile.

“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but today marks six months. And I had fucking dinner plans tonight but you and your fucking windmills ruined it.”

Jamie was still gaping, staring back and forth between your retreating figure and Roy’s smug face.

“Six fucking months?! Roy Kent, you absolute legend. She’s wonderful, I’m happy for you Coach.”

Roy smiled and for a split second, he could see himself becoming closer friends with the team striker.

“Oi!”

Your voice brought both Jamie and Roy’s attention back to you.

“Are you two coming or not? I was promised windmills and I want to see windmills!”

You smiled at your boys, one hand holding your flower and chips and the other hand on your hip as you waited for them to come to you.

“That’s your girl, mate.” Jamie teased as he looked at the taller man. Roy smirked, a genuine smile before nodding his head.

“That’s my girl.”

And with that, both men caught up with you. You passed the chips to Jamie before hooking your arm with Roy’s, the three of you making your way to wherever the windmill hunt took you.

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #Roy Kent fanfic #Roy Kent x fem!reader #Roy Kent oneshot #Roy Kent x reader insert #Roy Kent imagine

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alloftheimagines · 1 year

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roy kent | just friends

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | KO-FI

words: 3k

warnings: strong language because it's roy fucking kent, mentions of alcohol but not intoxication, bad date experiences with rude and not nice people, including comments on reader's body.

single parent!reader (they/them, bi/pan) x uncle roy in which he is your best friend and go-to babysitter when you have an awful date that ends early. protectiveness, hurt/comfort, and a heated confession ensues.

prompt: Roy Kent x Reader, Friends to lovers?

You’ve never been more relieved to be home, even as the sound of screaming children drifts from your house. You press your forehead against the cool door, taking in a deep breath. “Past their bedtime. Again,” you mutter, but your best friend allowing your daughter to have a late night with his niece, Phoebe, is the least of your worries after what you just experienced.

Horror. Pure horror.

“Oi!” you hear the deep, gritty voice of Roy Kent echoing down your hallway. “Come back ‘ere and do my other hand! Can’t be walking around with only one set of fucking nails painted!”

Giggles follow, and you smile despite yourself. They give you the energy to open the door finally, and you step in to find your hallway lit brightly, Phoebe flying out of the kitchen with chocolate smeared across her face and bright blue nail polish in her hand.

“Don’t be getting that on my carpet!” you warn, alerting everyone to your presence.

Your daughter, Maisie, skips out next, waving. “We’re painting Uncle Roy’s nails!”

“Lucky Roy!” She’d been calling him “uncle” for the past year, though neither of you is related to the footballer-turned-manager. Maisie picked it up from Phoebe, and Roy hadn’t seemed to mind, since you’re practically best friends anyway. You’re constantly trying to tire the kids out with play dates at one another’s house, or else exchanging babysitting duties so one of you can have a free night. Of course, Roy isn’t a single parent like you, but he watches Phoebe enough that you’ve formed a bond over the years, one that stemmed from your shared love of your chaotic children.

That bond has blossomed into something much more than you bargained for, though. After all, he is Roy fucking Kent, and his rough exterior matched with his hidden, softer side was always going to be your downfall. But since he’s been in and out of relationships and never made a move, you’ve let the small crush lie, trying to distract yourself with dates.

Terrible, terrible dates.

Like the one you had tonight.

“You’re back early.” Roy emerges last, leaning against the doorframe as he blows on his wet-varnished nails. “It wasn’t the one who speaks like someone’s pressed fast-forward on the TV remote again, was it? I told you they’re a loser.”

“No. No, it was someone far, far worse than Fast-forward Frank.” You sigh and try to ignore the flickering in your chest, because gruff footballer Roy Kent is currently being pampered by two ten-year-olds and seems to be enjoying every minute.

“Fuck,” he deadpans. “I’ll grab the wine.” He wanders back into the kitchen.

You huff again, kicking your shoes off your aching feet and heading into the living room, where the girls are painting one another’s nails. It was at least nice to snuggle up on your couch and watch, legs curled under you. They’re arguing, of course, but you’re good at tuning that out most of the time.

“You look very nice, Y/N,” Phoebe compliments. “Are you dressed up for my Uncle Roy?”

“No.” Even so, your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but hope he noticed your appearance before you left earlier. In fact, you’d been wondering all through dinner why he’d pursed his lips, jaw ticking, as he’d looked you up and down with shiny, dark eyes. It hadn’t exactly been the look of a man who lusted after you. More the disapproving stare of a father about to tell his child to go and change. “I went on a date.”

“What’s a date?” Maisie asks.

“14th of April,” Phoebe answers confidently. You smirk, glad when they return to their own little world.

“Right girls,” Roy says as he comes in. “Go and play upstairs, now. We’re talking about adult stuff now.”

“And you should be in bed,” you remind, because you suppose that one of you has to be the responsible parent, and it certainly isn’t him.

The kids groan but trudge out of the room, leaving you in peace. Somehow, that’s even worse. You don’t really know why; you’ve had lots of awful dating experiences, but tonight, you’re just… exhausted. You don’t want to have to keep searching for something that most people find without a problem. You don’t want to meet new people who you don’t connect with, don’t even really like, just because the alternative is sitting at home with only a child for company, or sometimes Roy.

Roy places the wine on the coffee table and raises his brow. “Go on then. Tell me what was wrong with this one.”

“It’d be quicker to tell you what’s right. They started by telling me to put a blanket under me in their car so I wouldn’t scuff their leather seats. And then when I told them I had a kid, they looked me up and down and said ‘ah, yeah, I can tell. Have you looked into cosmetic surgery?’” You wrinkle your nose as Roy scoffs.

“You’re joking!”

“I wish I was joking.” You rest your head against the couch cushion, closing your tired eyes. “They tried to order a salad for me after that. I told them fuck off, I’m having the garlic bread. They didn’t like that.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Do you have their address?” Roy is already scrambling to get up, and you aren’t sure if he’s joking or not.

You roll your eyes and tug him back down. “Stop it.”

“I’m not fucking joking. Where does this wanker live?”

Okay, you realise. Not joking. His jaw is clenched, brows even more furrowed than usual. You’ve seen him angry before, but never… seething. It rolls off him until you yank him down a second time.

“I don’t need you to beat them up. I need you to drink wine and tell me I’ll find the right person one day.” You pout as you pick up your wine glass, only half-joking.

His nostrils flare, but he settles down. “You will find the right person,” he reassures. “People are just dicks. You deserve better than all that shit.”

“I wonder sometimes,” you admit. “Nobody wants a single parent. I’m a package deal, and… well, there’s a reason I’m still single after all this time.”

“Oi.” He nudges you, draping his arm around the back of your couch so you smell his aftershave. You turn into the warmth, the comfort, though there is so much space between you still. More than you’d like. In another life, he might have been the one you were looking for. In another life, you weren’t searching for a good, healthy, passionate love, because you’d found it long ago, in the schoolyard where you met.

But you’re in this life, you remind yourself, and you’re a far cry from the people Roy has dated before. It’s clear you’re just friends. You always will be.

You lift your brows, waiting for whatever lecture he’s about to give you.

His eyes pierce yours. “Don’t even bother going there. You and Maisie deserve the fucking world, and fuck anyone who isn’t going to give it to you.”

The words pierce your heart, and something damp and warm trickles from the corner of your eye. A tear, you realise too late.

Roy sighs, the rough pad of his thumb brushing it away. You’re not surprised by his gentle touch, though most people might be. You know him too well to think him anything other than tender-hearted and caring to his core.

“Don’t get fuckin’ upset over that prick. Please, sweetheart.”

“No. I’m not.” You sniff, feeling pathetic. “I’m just overwhelmed. Tired. That’s all.”

His touch drifts to your hair, brushing through the strands and tucking a few behind your ear as your eyes flutter shut again. You could stay like this for a long time. For forever. He has no idea just how much you need him, how much better things feel when he’s around. It would just make sense, you and him — if you took away his fame, at least. You love one another’s kids. You’d become family over the years. You trust him with every fibre of your being as the one steadfast person you can count on.

“Y’know, you’re the person I’d call in the middle of the night if I needed to bury a body. Or if I thought there was a ghost in my house or something,” you admit.

His face crumples. “Ey?”

“Just…” You lean into him, burying your cheek against his chest. “You’re the only person who hasn’t let me down or left me.”

His movements are stiff as he wraps his arms around you, but he melts into you quickly, holding you to him until you’re not sure where you end and he begins. You hear his heart echoing in your ear. Feel the prickly bristle of his beard against your skin. It’s the safest you ever get to feel, and it’s rare you allow yourself to be so vulnerable. But tonight, you can’t find a reason to keep pretending.

“I never would,” he whispers. “If it was me, if you gave me a chance at a family like yours… I wouldn’t fucking waste it. They’re idiots, all of them. You and Maisie are precious. You deserve the best. Don’t stop until you find it.”

You pull away, pulse racing. It’s never felt right to address your feelings before, and perhaps tomorrow you’ll regret it. Maybe you’ll lose him, even, but you believe him when he says he isn’t going anywhere, and you have to know…

“What if I already have?”

His frown lasts for minutes, hours, as he looks down at you. And then you see it dawn on him, and you don’t want to hear how this story ends. You don’t want to be rejected twice in one night. You stumble up. “Forget I said that. I had a couple of drinks at the restaurant, and I’m all… loopy. I’m going to get some snacks. Are you hungry?” The drinks were non-alcoholic, but he doesn't need to know that.

“No,” Roy says.

It’s all he gives you. The message has been delivered loud and clear. He doesn’t want you. Tears sting your eyes as you leave the living room, heading into the kitchen. You catch your reflection in the window and almost break down entirely. You’re an idiot, and you’ve gone and embarrassed yourself in front of the one person you can be yourself around.

You grab a tissue, drying your tears, but fresh ones fall all the same.

And then your back prickles and you know he’s followed you.

“Oi,” he breathes gently, tilting your chin up as he reaches you. “What are you getting upset for?”

“I’m not,” you lie pathetically, looking anywhere but at him. “You can head off if you want. I can watch the girls tonight and drop Phoebe off—”

“Can we just rewind a minute? Do you… Do you think that you and me…?”

“No! God, no. No. No, no, no.”

“Oh.” He nods, leaning back on his heels. "So no then?"

“No!”

“All right, I fucking get it.” He lifts his hands as though they might wipe it all away. “I just thought that’s what you were saying before, on the couch. I thought…”

“You should stop thinking, Roy.” You offer him a flustered smile, your face burning. “Honestly, let’s just forget about it.”

“Right. Fine.” More silence. And then: “What if I don’t want to?”

“Don’t want to what?”

He shrugs. “Forget about it. What if… we’ve both already found the right people?”

Your body is electricity now, and you can barely breathe. “What… do you mean?”

He scratches his stubble, lowering his gaze. “Well, I could take you on a date. I’d be much better at it than the losers you’ve been seeing.”

You’re caught off-guard, hands trembling, “Is that what you’d like?”

“Well, I did. I mean, I’ve wanted to. I just… you’ve already said no. Several times. So I suppose I got my answer, and that’s that.”

“Well, I didn’t think you saw me that way. You’ve never asked before. Is this, like, a pity thing?”

“Fuck no!” he blurts too quickly. “I mean, no. 'Course not. And you’ve never mentioned it before either, by the way. You’re always going on all these fucking dates. When was I supposed to ask? Between Fast-forward Frank and that fucking woman obsessed with her pet ferret?”

You blink, puzzled. “I mean… if you asked, I wouldn’t have gone on dates with Ferret Fiona.”

He throws his hands up in the air. “Now she fucking tells me.”

You don’t like the implication that you’ve been the one holding him back. “Well, it’s not like you’ve ever tried, is it? I mean, I’ve been single for years and you’ve never made a move, even before all this online dating palaver! And you’re not exactly easy to read, by the way. You’re always frowning, even when I’m trying to bloody well impress you! What was I supposed to think? That you fancy me when you always look like this?” You moulded your expression into a big, dramatic, brooding glower and hope it encapsulates everything that is Roy.

He crosses his arms over his chest, looking angry now. Proving your point. “Oi! I don’t do that with my lips,” he points out. “And you’re always talking about how badly you want to find someone when I’m sitting right fucking here! That’s mixed signals, mate.”

“It was me hinting! Hoping!” you shout. “I was just waiting for a sign, or something, but you never treated me like anything more than a friend!”

“Because I didn’t want to be like that creepy Allen bloke you dated last year! He was your friend too, if I recall!”

You sigh, realising the conversation is going in circles. You look at him. He looks at you. Both of you are breathless, wild-eyed, rosy-cheeked, and you know you’ll always remember the way he looks, standing in your kitchen, infuriated and perhaps more open than ever before, because you see it now; that dark look in his eyes was never a guard, never a sign of being just friends. It was want, need.

It was everything you already feel.

“Why are you two arguing?” a meek voice interrupts. You both look to the door to find the girls hovering in the hallway.

“We’re not arguing,” you assure quickly.

“It’s adult stuff,” says Roy at the same time.

“We don’t like it when you argue,” Maisie says. “Especially when you’re supposed to get married.”

“What?” you question sharply, turning red all over again.

Phoebe nods as though corroborating Maisie’s story. “We’ve planned it all. It will be next June at McDonald’s, and Uncle Roy will bring you flowers, and we’ll all have milkshakes afterwards.”

You put your head in your hands, peeking through your fingers and surprised to find that Roy is smirking. “Sounds like a shit wedding, Pheebs. Where’ve you got this idea from?” he says.

“Well, Mum said you two will end up together because you clearly fancy Y/N and it is invevitable.”

A laugh bubbles in your own throat at her attempt to say inevitable, though you’re still too stunned to speak.

“See?” Roy whispers. “Everyone else knew. It's fucking invevitable.”

You shiver, lowering your hands to meet his gaze properly. It’s soft and intent, nothing like the anger of a moment ago.

“All right, girls,” you say. “Get your pyjamas on. We’ll be up to say nanight in a minute.”

You usher them away, closing the door to when you hear their footsteps on the stairs. You’ve never been more aware of his presence, the fact it’s just the two of you — you don’t even know who you are without the kids jumping about, sticking their noses in.

“Have I fucked it all up?” he asks finally.

“No. Have I?”

He shakes his head.

“Then what now?” you question. “What does this… mean?”

“Well…” He leans against the counter, fidgety as he smiles again. “I’ll take you on a decent fucking date for starters. No kids, and no more of whatever the fuck this argument was.”

The thought leaves you feeling cracked and seeping with excitement, though you try to play it cool. “Okay. That’s a good plan.”

“Right. Good. Then… are you free Friday night?”

You inch closer to him, timid suddenly. “I don’t know. My usual babysitter is busy.”

He rolls his eyes and tugs you toward him so that your torsos collide, and then his fingers curl around the nape of your neck and you can think of nothing but the way his lips look, and what it must feel like, having them between your thighs, beard grazing your skin.

“You’re an idiot,” he rasps.

“Takes one to know one.” You lick your lips, then his mouth his on yours, rough and ready and desperate. You let him in, let his tongue explore your mouth. You know you shouldn’t. The girls might come back in, might already be listening, but you’ve wanted this for so long.

You both have.

You’re breathless when he stops, his hands lingering just above your belly as he bites down on a groan. “If I don’t stop now, there’ll be trouble.”

You’re not willing to let go, though, and you rest your hands on his chest as you kiss his jaw. “And?”

“And I’ve waited a long fucking time to do this properly. Give you the care,” he kisses your nose, “you deserve. Sweep you,” another kiss, this time at the outer corner of your eye, “off your fucking feet. So I’m going to.” He steps away. “Friday. Seven. Find a new babysitter, and make sure they’re free all night.”

With that, he steps away, leaving you wanting more.

“Uncle Royyyyy!” Phoebe is calling. “Will you read us a story?”

He grins, kisses your forehead, and then is gone. You’re not sure your knees will hold you up if you follow, but you listen to him talking to the girls, making them laugh, and you have never felt more right, more complete.

You’re a fool for thinking anyone else could be perfect for you when the man you love has been here all along.

1K notes · View notes

inbloomwriting · 10 months

Text

a calm surrender II Roy Kent

Plot: Roy doesn't love her. In fact, he finds her irritating above anything else. And yet he manages to tell her in so many different ways.

Pairing: Roy Kent x female reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Reader takes Keeley's spot in some plot points - no disrepect to her though she's my favorite.

Notes: This is inspired by a "100 ways to say I love you" List. It’s 8.3k words, It's a big one.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"It's enough for this restless warrior Just to be with you"

Take my jacket, it’s cold & You can have half

She’s irritating. Everything about her manages to get under his skin. The way she’s always smiling that big radiant smile of hers or the perpetual scent of jasmine and vanilla that seems to follow her anywhere. She laughs too loud, she’s a terrible driver and even worse at parking. The music coming from the physio room is mostly cheesy 80s and 90s pop songs that make Roy want to give himself a lobotomy. She’s irritating in every which way you look at it — and maybe that’s the exact reason why Roy can’t keep himself from looking at her.

Tonight is no exception. For some inexplicable reason, his eyes manage to find her across the room and in the crowd, every single time without fail. It’s not like it’s a conscious choice on his part either. It just happens. That sparkly green dress of her’s just seems to call out to him like the damn light across the bay at the Buchanan’s dock.

And the worst part is that she noticed. She caught his eyes on her more than once, even had the audacity to smirk back at him. During the auction, for a small moment, he thought she might bid on him when her hand just barely twitched and her eyes held a sense of infinite mischief. She didn’t though and for a second he could feel a string of disappointment pull at his heart. Not because he wanted her to bid on him or anything, he just wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of having to spend time with Cheryl Barnaby.

He managed to find her across the room all night — except for right now. Everyone’s on the dance floor. Keeley, Jamie, Ted, even Beard. But not her.

No one’s paying attention to him right now, if he were to just slip out of here, no one will notice.

It’s not like he wanted to be here in the first place. Sure, raising money for underprivileged children is something honorable and he would never let his own disdain for overly glitzy social events get in the way of doing the right thing. Doesn’t mean he has to like it though.

Emptying his glass with one last sip he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and steps out into the chilly air of a London night.

It’s funny, really, how the moment he stops searching, the green light calls back out to him and she steps into his vision. A glowing beacon of refuge, guiding ships through dark nights to safe shores.

The cold air nips at her skin, sharp and vicious and Roy doesn’t even have to get any closer to her to notice that she’s shivering. He can barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes at her. Of course, she’s cold, she’s only wearing the dress and some flimsy chiffon scarf thing around her shoulders. That’s gonna do fuck all to shelter her from the cold. Irritating. She’s so irritating.

The most irritating part though, is that he can’t help but slip out of his suit jacket. The most irritating part is that he can’t help but care.

“Take my jacket, it’s cold.”

There it is again, that smile of hers. The one he sees sometimes when he’s about to fall asleep. How ridiculous, he thinks, how foolish of him. How absurd it is to fall asleep to the image of a smile belonging to a girl that annoys him more than anything and anyone. (Except maybe Jamie).

“Are you — are you talking to me? Little old me? Are you being nice to me?”

“Jesus fuck, don’t make it weird. I’m always nice.”

She giggles and it’s bloody adorable. So adorable that a smile threatens to pull the corners of his lips upwards. See? Fucking irritating.

“You hardly talk more than 3 words to me when you’re in the physio room but — okay. If that’s your version of nice.”

“Take the jacket or not, I don’t care. I’ll let you freeze out here if you’re trying to be difficult. Means fuck all to me.”

That’s not true. They both know it. No matter how much Roy tries to deny or hide it, there is a soft heart buried inside the rough exterior. He just can’t risk showing that to everyone. Can’t have people getting the wrong ideas.

“No, please I — sorry I’m just — you make me nervous and when I’m nervous I talk a lot and then most of what comes out is just stupid nonsense or deflecting humor or something. I would really appreciate that jacket. It really is fucking freezing.”

Roy has been in the public eye for years now, he’s used to people being intimidated, nervous. Usually, it’s strangers though, people who don’t know him. Those that do, that work with him, usually lose that feeling pretty quickly.

“Why the fuck would I make you nervous?”

She just glances at him before turning her face back towards the street “Have you seen yourself?”

He’s not sure how to take that. Is it a compliment? Does she think he’s handsome? It’s not like it matters to him really. In fact, the thought that she might find him attractive is — say it with me — fucking irritating.

He contemplates asking her outright if this is something she does on purpose. If she’s deliberately trying to rile him up. The words are on the tip of his tongue when he notices her shiver once again and all that was on his mind vanishes against the desperate need to keep her warm.

“Jesus. Let me just — “

Jasmine. Vanilla. He smells it when he slips the jacket around her shoulders. He wonders if his jacket will smell like that, like her, when he gets it back. Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Not because it’s her or anything — just because it smells fantastic and Roy is not one to deny himself the simple pleasures in life.

“I really appreciate it, Roy.”

And the gratefulness with which she says it is not irritating at all. It’s endearing. It’s flutters-in-his-tummy kind of wonderful.

Instead of reacting like a normal, reasonable person with a simple “you're welcome”, he gives her one of his signature grunts. That’s as good a normal reasonable reaction as anyone can expect from him, really.

“What are you out here all by yourself for anyway? Trying to get kidnapped or something?”

“No,” there it is again, the giggle. Ugh. “ I’m waiting for my Uber. He’s — “She checks her phone, illuminating her face with the harsh blue light. He thinks she looks wonderful either way. Then scolds himself for thinking it. Some simple pleasures he has to deny himself. “ 12 minutes away.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He helps out his sister, he gives in to all of Phoebe’s wishes even if it means having to play the princess yet again and never getting to be the dragon. He donates more money to charity than the press is aware of, leaves hefty tips whenever he goes out to eat and though he does swear a lot, he still tries to be polite if he can.

He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let a woman wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Do you mind if I keep you company? Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive.”

A laugh tumbles from her lips. A step up from a giggle and god does it send shockwaves through his traitorous heart.

“The press would have a field day if that happened. I can see the headlines, ‘Football legend Roy Kent involved in the disappearance of Richmond sports physio’ and then they use a picture of you from like 10 years ago with the really bad long hair that makes you look a little sketchy.”

“I didn’t look sketchy.”

“You looked a little sketchy.”

Roy glances at her through the corner of his eyes. She really is a dream in forest green, the sequins, and rhinestones reflecting the street lights like little kaleidoscopes. He’s almost certain he’ll dream in shades of green tonight. He’s sure he’ll see her smiling face.

“You look beautiful.”

The words fall from his lips before he can stop them and it makes him want to put his head through a wall. Fuck.

“Thank you —” she replies bashfully, “do you want some sausage roll?”

In all the scenarios running through his head of how this conversation could’ve gone, this is not one of the outcomes he expected.

“What?” he asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Do you want a part of my sausage roll?” she chuckles and pulls a brown paper bag from her sparkly clutch bag. “I wasn’t sure if they were gonna actually feed us or just serve us rich people portions so I brought backup. You can have half if you want.”

She breaks the flaky pastry in two and holds one piece out to him. Even her nails are painted to match the dress. If he was any worse a man he would risk it all for just one taste of her and whatever black magic she possesses that gets so deeply under his skin. He is a better man than that tough, so he settles for a taste of the sausage roll.

“You’re a strange woman”

“Strange or smart?”

Taking a bite from the sausage roll, buttery and flaky and greasy, he must admit she has a point.

“Bit of both.”

“I can live with that.”

Silence settles upon them, well as silent as a London night can be. It feels weirdly comfortable. No expectations to be someone or do something. Just her and the city and the fucking Greggs sausage roll.

And — Elton John?

“Oh, I love that song!”

A string of pink lights adorns the top of the rikshaw as it turns the corner, loudly blasting Can you feel the love tonight. The driver catches sight of them and Roy can’t suppress the annoyed groan slipping its way out.

“Good evening can I interest you lovebirds in a — “

“No, fuck off!”

Elton’s voice gets quieter and quieter as the startled driver rides his rickshaw further away and back into the inky black of the night.

Lovebirds, he called them lovebirds. Thought the two of them were anything other than acquaintances. People pushed together by circumstances and coincidence. As if anything between them could ever happen. She’s already getting under his skin, sticks around his thoughts, and ghosts through his head without him ever giving her permission to do so. She’s all he can think about lately and yes he knows it sounds repetitive but god it’s so damn irritating.

“I would’ve liked to hear the rest of the song.”

Roy scoffs “Figures.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

He turns to face her and, for the first time since he’s stepped out of the building and into this tiny bubble they’re sharing for just this fleeting moment, he looks at her. Really looks at her. With her sparkly dress and her lips painted a deep red like candy apples. With flakes of the pastry sticking to her lower lip and his jacket wrapped around her looking almost like this is where it’s always belonged.

He’s never had a heart attack before, he wonders if this is what it feels like.

“You play the worst fucking music when you’re working in the physio room.”

“Uh — are you insulting my taste in music? Are you really out here insulting the legend, sir Elton John? The Lion King soundtrack is a religious experience, okay?”

He hates that he can clearly tell by the glimmer of mischief in her eyes that she is joking more than anything. He shouldn’t be able to tell. Mere acquaintances can’t do shit like that.

“No, in fact, it’s a pretty fucking great movie. It came out when my sister was a kid though and I had to watch that shit a million times. You know how traumatizing it is having to watch Mufasa die over and over again?“

She grants him a look of understanding and shrugs her shoulders in agreement “At least it’s not Frozen, eh? “

“I have a 6-year-old niece.”

Roy Kent has a lot of things in his life that he takes pride in. His career and talent, all the hard work he put in to be where he is today. He takes pride in being a good brother and a loving uncle and maybe even a good friend and leader.

Making her let out a snort as she laughs at his Frozen-induced misery? That might be his proudest achievement to date.

“I’m glad you find my suffering amusing.”

“What can I say? You’re a funny guy, Roy Kent. So funny in fact that I almost bid on you at the auction.”

He wants to let out the most guttural scream in the existence of mankind. She can’t just go ahead and say stuff like that. Not when he is trying so hard to keep their interactions at the most basic level. Not when she already haunts his dreams. She’s irritating, Roy. Not charming or lovable or — beautiful. Or maybe she is all those things but most of all she’s annoying and infuriating and — oh he’s so fucked.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Oh, well I’m just a measly sports physician. Don’t get me wrong, it's good money but I don’t really earn quite enough to throw thousands of pounds at a man to have him spend time with me.”

He’d do it for free. Hate every second of it, naturally. But he’d do it for free.

Can’t tell her that though. Never. So once again he just grunts.

A silver Toyota pulls up to the curb, effectively bursting their little bubble of comfort as the driver leans down to look out the window. “You (Y/N) ?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

She makes a motion to slip out of the jacket, only for Roy to step in and hold it closed, keeping it in place, wrapped around her, and shielding her from the cold.

“Keep it,” his voice comes out all rough and husky. More than usual. It’s probably the jasmine scent getting to him, clouding his every sense. “Don’t want you to freeze on the way home. Just give it back another time.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks again. Goodnight, Roy.”

He opens the door for her and closes it softly once she’s settled into the car. Roy tries so hard to be a good man, a good person but in that moment all he wants to do is be a little bit worse, just a little bit. Just enough to rip the door open again, pull her out of the seat and kiss her stupid.

Instead, he wishes her a good night and sends her off before stepping out into the night himself. There is a smile playing on his lips all the way home and it’s so fucking irritating.

I was in the neighborhood & It’s okay I couldn’t sleep anyway

The door leading to her apartment is bright red and there is a little white sign and the picture of a dog with huge fucking ears that reminds him of Gizmo from the Gremlins. It says “Beware of the dog — might cuddle you to death.”

It’s cheesy as hell. He loves it.

He’s not quite sure how he ended up here. Losing is never fun. Feeling yourself slowly becoming unable to do the things you love, the things you were good at, and actively playing a part in your team losing? That’s absolutely mortifying.

Of all the places he could’ve gone, all the people he could’ve seen — he ends up in front of her door. Red and shiny like her lips that night.

It’s almost 1am and all things considered, this is a really dumb idea. She’s probably asleep and waking her up would be fucking rude. He should just go and forget this ever happened instead of knocking on her door in the middle of the night. That’s what the rational part of his brain tells him at least.

Roy was never really good at listening to the rational part of his brain.

Tiny barks, no doubt belonging to the dog on the sign, echo through the hallway before the door swings open just enough for (Y/N) to look at him with tired eyes.

“Roy?”

“I was in the neighborhood I — I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie, really. He was in the neighborhood. He walked here specifically to knock on her door and see her.

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Now that is most definitely a lie. Her eyes are sleepy, her hair disheveled and he can just about make out the pillow print on her cheek.

“Do you want to come in?”

He does. He shouldn’t but he really does.

The apartment is small but it feels cozy rather than cramped. The walls are lined with pictures, little reminders of happy moments and people she loves.

There’s one of him too, well him and Isaac and Sam and then her at the end of the line. He thinks it was taken at some get-together after a particularly hard-fought win. He likes to know that there’s a picture of him on her wall even if his appearance in the photo is probably more incidental than anything.

“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, there is so much he doesn’t know about her. He doesn’t know where she was born or if she has siblings or if she always wanted to be a physiotherapist. But there are things he does know, like the specific way she likes her coffee and that she always gets a snickerdoodle cookie from the bakery down the road from the stadium, every Wednesday without fail. How she scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated and that she snorts when something makes her laugh really hard.

“His name is Yoda. He’s a papillon and also my best friend.”

“Don’t let Sam hear.”

“Oh, he’s also Sam’s best friend.”

Yoda, it’s a fitting name. He does look like a Yoda.

“So what brings you here, Roy? At uh — “ she glances towards her open kitchen and the digital clock on the microwave “ 1:04 am?”

Should’ve gotten his story straight before he came here. What is he supposed to say? I felt like proper shit and wanted to see your smile? Surely not.

So he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Came to get my jacket back.”

Absolute dumbass.

“Your jacket? Oh uh. sure. Let me go get it.”

She regards him with confusion and curiosity, he can tell she’s not really buying his story.

“Or, if you aren’t in a rush, I was about to pop in a movie and pig out on some popcorn? Do you want to join me?”

This might be the first time he lets her see the smile she continues to put on his face.

“Fuck yeah, what are we watching?”

“Vernon is such a little bitch. Antagonizing fucking teenagers? What a loser."

“Right?,” (Y/N) agrees, taking a sip from her glass of rose before stuffing another handful of buttery popcorn into her mouth. “Bender needed someone to care, not just another adult yelling at him. "Such a loser. Hey, now that I think about it, you do give me John Bender vibes. All broody and mysterious.”

Roy just scoffs in response.

Her eyes fall onto his empty glass of wine resting on the little square table in front of the couch.

“You want a top-up?”

“No, I’m good. I should probably get going.”

He hates to admit it, it’s something he’ll take to the grave with him, but there’s something about rosé that gets to him. It makes him tipsy immediately. He doesn’t want to go home but the longer he stays the more he opens himself up to saying something stupid and fucking this up — whatever this is.

“Did you walk here?”

“Mmh.”

“Oh well I can’t in good conscience let you walk home, half a bottle of rosé in your system and dealing with all the emotions brought on by the breakfast club. Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive”

Throwing his own words back at him should be infuriating, annoying. It isn’t. It’s lovely. She’s lovely.

“You can stay if you want. My couch isn’t the biggest but I think you’ll fit just fine.”

The sincerity in her eyes hits him like a dart to the chest. It’s something so simple as offering him her couch for the night but it means everything for a man who has grown so awfully accustomed to loneliness.

“If I stay, will you make me breakfast?”

“Fuck no”

Laughter fills the tiny living room and it takes him a second to realize it’s his own.

“I might be up for a Starbucks run tomorrow morning before work though.”

“Sounds great. I love peppermint lattes, those are fucking delicious.”

She grants him another smile as she gathers their glasses and the empty bottle and brings them to the kitchen before returning with a fluffy pink blanket for him. He thinks that smile could’ve just about killed him, thinks he might just die right here on her couch and it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Well goodnight, then. Hope you don’t mind Yoda”

The dog is curled up on Roy’s chest like a little bagel. It’s gonna be annoying later, he’s sure but hell will freeze over before he disturbs the little pup.

“That’s fine.”

“He snores, just thought you should know.”

“Makes two of us then, hope he doesn’t mind.”

Another laugh. Another tiny heart attack.

She’s by the door, just about to turn off the light and plunge the room into darkness, when she hesitates for a moment.

“Hey Roy,”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry you guys lost today and I — I can see you struggling but I just wanted you to know that it was not your fault. I need you to know that.”

The entire way here, he tried to make himself rationalize that. Make himself understand that losing is part of the game and that he did his best. But knowing your best might not be good enough anymore is a hard fucking pill to swallow.

Hearing her say that it’s not his fault, it takes the weight off for a moment. Not all the way, never all the way. But a tiny little bit and that’s a whole lot already.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Night, Roy.”

He falls asleep with the taste of rosé on his tongue, the snoring of a little dog in his ears, and the sight of her on his mind, all sleepy eyes and messy hair. She never looked better.

It looks good on you & I like your laugh

He’s positively buzzing with euphoria. They won, something no one thought was possible. They won and he scored the winning goal.

Spirits are high as the team and their friends have taken over the Karaoke place. Shots and drinks flow with no regard to the tab they’re raking up or the headache that awaits each of them tomorrow. None of that matters right now. Tonight is made for celebrating. Consequences don’t exist right here and now.

Rebecca burns the house down with her rendition of let it go and after a short intermission by Dani, singing a Spanish song that neither of them managed to join in with their non-existent knowledge of the language, the opening chords to another familiar song fill the room.

“Well, thanks for making us all look like amateurs, Rebecca,” (Y/N) says into the microphone as she takes her place on stage. Her words are laced with happiness and laughter and Roy thinks she must have him under some spell because he can’t manage to not smile when she’s around. It’s a bit ridiculous if he’s being honest.

“I will most definitely not be able to live up to that performance but I thought we could stay in the Disney bubble for a moment.”

Her eyes meet his across the room and when she winks at him it takes everything in him not to get up on stage and devour her. Fucking irritating.

“I know you all know this song so sing along if you feel like it. This one’s for you, John Bender.”

He knows it’s one of the cheesiest love songs ever, written for a movie about a cartoon lion. But sitting on the couch at the karaoke place surrounded by his team, having just scored a winning goal and listening to the girl that haunts his dreams sing straight to him and only him, he thinks Elton has a point. He can feel the love tonight. It’s in the smiles of his friends, and the voices coming together all chaotic and off-key singing along to the song. And there is love in her eyes, clear as day and undeniable.

“And can you feel the love tonight How it's laid to rest? It's enough to make kings and vagabonds Believe the very best”

The night is coming to an end, everyone’s found their way to their respective rooms — or whoever’s room they felt like staying at. Roy’s pretty sure he saw Rebecca’s friend enter Ted’s room but that’s none of his fucking business, is it?

“Okay, you can’t laugh though!” (Y/N)’s voice calls out from the bathroom and drifts towards the main part of the room where Roy is perched on the chair by the window.

This isn’t his room and really he knows he shouldn’t be here. But being alone right now sounded like proper torture. He wasn’t ready to leave this magical night behind yet. Not like this. Not when she sang to him and he had nothing to give her in return. So when she invited him to her room to watch yet another John Hughes movie on Netflix, he couldn’t do anything but accept.

“Are you sleeping in one of those weird fluffy onesies?”

“No, god no.”

“Then I don’t know why I’d laugh at you.”

When she steps into the room, he can see why she’d think he’d laugh at her choice of sleepwear. The white shirt looks not so white anymore, there is a hole at the bottom and a mysterious red stain by the collar. It doesn’t make him laugh though. It makes him fucking hard. Because that’s his name on the back of it. That’s a 2014 world cup Roy Kent England Jersey.

“Fuck me.”

He doesn't mean to let it slip but alcohol and euphoria have made his lips go loose.

“I knoooow, it’s embarrassing. I meant to bring something else but it’s just so comfortable.”

“It looks good on you.”

It does. He thought the green dress was it. Then he thought she looked absolutely adorable, all sleepy and natural. But this? This is the look that pushes him over the edge. This is everything.

“Yeah?” she asks and twirls around the room, not unlike Phoebe whenever Roy gifts her yet another new princess dress. He’s just such a sucker, can never say no when she asks him for something. “You just wait and see, I’ll steal your job soon enough.”

That makes him erupt into laughter yet again, he doesn’t think he’s laughed quite as much lately as when he is with her.

“I’ve seen you attempt to play before. I’m not worried.”

“I like your laugh,” she says, all warm eyes and wistful smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Something takes over, an invisible force pulling him to his feet and making him walk up to her. She’s leaning against the wall as he places one hand on her hip, the other on the wall next to her head. This shouldn’t be happening, he knows this. It’s dumb to believe that whatever tension there is between them can lead to anything. That’s just not in the cards for him no matter how much he wishes for it.

Girls like her don’t fall for boys like him. They never did, they never will.

“Roy Kent, you won today.”

Winning the game is the last thing on his mind right now. How could he ever think about winning right this moment when her hand is softly resting on his cheek and her nose gently nuzzling against his and the —

A knock on the door cuts through the moment making Roy let go and take a step back.

“Fucks sake.”

In his defense, Sam looks apologetic as he stands in front of the door, signature smile on his face. Good-natured and lovable. If this was any other moment Roy wouldn’t have been able to be mad at him. But this is that moment and he is a little pissed right now.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to disturb, I was just wondering if you had another phone charger. I can’t find mine and I know you always bring extra so — “

“Uh, yeah let me go get it real quick.” (Y/N) says and turns back towards the room.

Roy’s eyes connect with hers for a split second and it’s like a bucket of ice straight over his head. They both know whatever magical spell they had been under, it’s broken and gone and all that’s left now is a big old pile of what-ifs.

“It’s getting late, I should leave. Goodnight, (Y/N). Night, Sam.”

“We’ll reschedule, yeah?”

Tiny smile on his lips he nods his head in agreement.

He gets a soft “goodnight” in return and though he hates to admit it, the touch of her hand against his cheek lingers there all the way to his room and even further into his dreams.

Call me when you get home & We’ll figure it out

Rain pounds against the roof and windows like tiny bullets. A rainstorm has Richmond tight in its clutches so cruel and unforgiving the team can’t even train right now.

And yet for some reason Roy still finds himself in the workout room, trying to push himself to do just 5 more minutes on the treadmill. Just 5 more.

Actually, it’s not entirely true. He knows why he’s here. Part of him hopes that if he just pushes himself enough, he can overcome the pain in his leg and all the issues it causes. That if he just tries harder, he can go back to being the talented overachiever he used to be.

But it hurts. A sharp stabbing pain rushes through his knee forcing him to step off the treadmill. He hates this. In fact, it’s his worst fucking nightmare. Football is all he’s ever been good at, he can’t lose that. It’s his entire life.

If he’s not Roy the footballer, who is he? Some bloke named Roy with a dead career and no one to come home to? Now doesn’t that sound delightful?

"Roy?"

“Jesus, fuck!”

There she goes again giving him a heart attack, only this time it’s not because she’s being cute or anything.

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The smile on her face falls as she catches sight of him holding onto his knee. He can almost see the thoughts running through her head. She knows about his knee. If anyone knows how bad it is, it’s her. She told him not to overdo it. Said that would only make it worse.

He knows she has pity on him and he hates it. It’s irritating coming from everyone. Irritating and misplaced. Why would they pity him? It’s his own damn fault for not being good enough anymore.

But coming from her? That’s even worse. No one wants a guy that’s getting too old to do his job properly. That’s falling apart and breaking.

— Not that he wants her or anything. Oh, Roy, who are you trying to fool here? Of course, he wants her.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

She raises her eyebrow in disbelief, in that bratty way that drives him crazy.

“I said I’m fine, (Y/N).”

“I hear what you’re saying,” she says and comes to stand next to him, crossing her arms in defiance. “but I can also see the way you’re holding your knee and that face you’re making. You’re in pain, love.”

Love. He doesn’t hate how it sounds when she calls him that. Irritating for sure but also — sweet.

“I’ll be fine! What are you even doing here?”

He hasn’t seen a lot of her ever since the night in Liverpool and while part of him was quite glad about it because he honestly wasn’t sure whether or not to bring up whatever had or had not happened between them, another part of him had missed her smile desperately.

“I work here.”

“You’re a fucking smartass, aren’t you.”

“I try.”

Fuck, even when she’s being deliberately difficult she manages to pull a smirk from him.

“I had some paperwork to do but by the time I arrived here, the storm was so bad that now I have to wait for it to stop before I can drive home. I hate driving when it rains.”

“Oh you should,” Roy returns, nodding his head in agreement “You’re a horrible driver in the best of weather.”

She responds with a scandalized gasp and a hand placed on her heart in mock upset “I am not a horrible driver! Take that back.”

“It took you 18 minutes to park your car the other day. I know because I saw it, we all saw it. Boys took the time and had bets going. Jamie won 20 quid.”

“Wha — okay I’ll have to have a word with the guys, you’re ridiculous. But don’t think you can change the topic on me, Mister. Is your knee getting worse?”

Yes, and he fucking hates it. Can’t even say the words out loud because that feels like admitting defeat. And that’s a terrifying thing to do.

Fortunately for him, he doesn’t have to say anything. A look is all it takes and she nods her head in understanding.

“That’s okay, Roy. We’ll figure something out.”

We will figure something out. We as in him and her. Since pretty much the beginning of his professional career, Roy had admirers. People who would latch onto everything he did or said and hold him to abnormally high standards he would never be able to reach. They adored him but they also didn’t know him. She knows him even when he tries so hard to keep her at arm's length. She knows him and is still in his corner, still has his back. The only people who ever did that were his family.

It’s an unusual feeling but he really really likes it. Even if it’s a little terrifying.

“What if — “ he takes a deep breath, trying to form the words that weigh so heavy on his heart “What if I can’t go back to how it used to be? What if this is the end for me?”

“Do you want me to be honest or nice?”

“Lay it on me then.”

“Things might not get back to how they used to be and there’s not really much you can do about it other than learn to accept it and then figure out a new place for yourself.”

“Football is all I have.”

“That’s not true but even if it was there is so much more about it than just the players.”

She’s right but it’s still a bitter pill to swallow.

“…and with that smile of yours, you can always go into modeling. I’m sure they’re always looking for new faces in the toothpaste commercial business.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“See! There’s that smile I was talking about.”

“You’re fucking insufferable sometimes.”

She is. He adores it.

“Oh, but you like it — right?”

“What?”

“You do — like it? Like me?”

It’s the first time he’s seen her act insecure. She’s always so bubbly and happy and smiling, he hates that he put any doubt in her mind that he does anything but cherish her.

“You irritate me, woman. Drive me up the fucking wall, every day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t say sorry. I love it. I think you’re a fucking knockout. Best thing since sliced bread.”

He does, he truly does and it feels nice to say it out loud for once. To admit it to her and to himself. It feels nice when she comes closer and when she rests her arms around his neck and it feels fucking phenomenal when her nose brushes past his and he can almost feel her lips on his.

Almost.

That’s until her phone beeps and she pulls away altogether.

“Ah shit, I gotta go.”

“Fuck sake. The universe hates me.”

“The universe doesn’t hate you, Roy Kent. We just have bad timing. ”

He’s not convinced.

“What about the storm?”

“I think the rain stopped, listen.”

Roy hears nothing. Where raindrops were drumming against the roof and windows just minutes ago, there is silence. He’s never wished for a rainstorm to persist more than he does at that moment.

“Well, call me when you get home at least. Roads will still be wet.”

“Aw, Roy, are you worried about me?”

His lips say no, but his eyes and his smile tell a different story.

You can stay & Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?

This is it. This is the end. He’s seen this one coming for a while now but he tried so hard. He trained and pushed and it was all for nothing. They’re losing and his career as an active footballer is over for good.

The door to the locker room opens slowly, almost cautiously and he’s just about to yell and whoever dares to disturb him, when his head snaps up and he sees (Y/N) standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing here? Game is still going, you’re the fucking Physio.”

“Good thing there’s more than one of us. I have to make sure all my players are okay.”

I’m not okay. That’s what he wants to say. He wants to scream it from the rooftops. He’s not okay. He’s not sure he ever will be.

“Get out, (Y/N).”

She can’t see him like this. Defeated. Broken. Old.

Instead of listening to him, she sits down beside him and holds an ice pack to his injured knee.

“As a physio, I need to tell you that what you did was really stupid.”

He knows it was. It was a calculated risk he was willing to take and if nothing else, he kept Jamie from scoring and the fans appreciated it. That was all that mattered at that moment.

“But as a friend and Richmond fan, I think it was brilliant. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself in the process.”

Silence settles over them and (Y/N) is just about to get back up when he grabs onto her arm and pulls her back down. “You can stay.”

“Okay.”

And for a long while they just sit. No words, no expectations. Just them.

Softly, almost like a whisper, he feels her touch against his hand, sliding her fingers between his.

“Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?”

It’s not okay. It’s phenomenal. It’s everything he could’ve wished for in that moment but never would’ve had the nerve to ask. It’s a promise that he isn’t alone in this. There is someone there holding his hand through the darkest of times.

A green light guiding him to safe shores.

“Don’t you fucking dare let go.”

Stay there, I’m coming to get you & I can't wait for tomorrow

Turns out, retiring from a successful football career does not mean you suddenly have a lot of free time. In fact, Roy doesn’t think he’s ever been this busy doing shit he doesn’t like.

Everyone wants an interview, a statement, a “what happens next”. It’s a lot of paperwork and contracts and shit he doesn’t care about. The point is, he’s fucking busy. So busy he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in quite a few days. Nothing has really changed since their moment in the locker room but somehow everything feels different.

It’s exactly 4:12 am when his phone rings. He almost doesn’t want to answer but calls at 4am usually mean bad news and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to his sister or Phoebe or (Y/N) or even (and he will deny this if you ask him about it) Jamie just because he couldn’t be bothered to answer his phone.

“Hello?”

“Royoooo.”

Oh. Oh!

A smirk pulls at his lips.

“(Y/N)?”

“Sorry —” she says and stops for a giggle “Sorry to wake you. I just — I was out with the girls and I didn’t plan on drinking but I did. They had a buy one get one free deal. It would be stupid to say no, right?”

“Right.”

"So, yeah."

“Go on. Didn’t just call me to tell me about the drinks, did you.”

“Oh, no. I just wanted to talk to you while I wait for my Uber. I miss you.”

“Do you?”

“So much!” her words are slow and slightly slurred. “Every fucking day. Like — god, I just wanna see your stupid handsome face.”

“It’s handsome, innit?”

“You have no idea! I just want to kiss you, so badly.”

Kiss him. She wants to kiss him. Sure, it almost happened twice but it’s still different hearing her outright say it. But then again, she’s drunk and by the time she wakes up tomorrow, she probably won’t remember half of what she’s saying right now.

“Where are you?”

“It’s that weird little bar around the corner from Sam’s restaurant. The one with the green door.”

“Go on and cancel that Uber.”

“Then how am I going to get home?”

“Stay there, I’m coming to get you.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let the woman he’s absolutely head over heels for wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Okay,” she agrees, a giggle slipping past her lips “Thank you. Can’t wait to see you.”

And though Roy had other plans for his weekend than picking up a drunk girl at 4 in the morning, he also can’t wait to see her.

“…and like it was mostly sugar, right? So I thought why not have another one. Turns out it was mostly vodka.”

“Who could’ve guessed.”

She’s cuddled up on his couch in one of his shirts looking into his eyes and retelling her night in vivid detail. Her story is slurred and a bit all over the place, blame it on her tipsy brain. It takes her forever to get to the point and when she does, the point doesn’t even make all that much sense. It doesn’t matter, he’d listen to her ramble forever if it meant he got to spend time with her wearing his shirt sitting on his couch — looking into his eyes.

“You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

“I know,” she shrugs then scoots closer to him and wraps her arms around his “but you’re here so it’s only half as bad really.”

“If I’m feeling generous I’ll even make you breakfast.”

“You really are the dream, Roy Kent.”

She’s clawing at his chest, prying open his ribcage and burying herself where his heart used to be. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

“You have to stop saying shit like that. People are gonna think you’re in love with me or something.”

She pulls away slightly and looks up at him with those big eyes of hers before resting one hand on his cheek.

“Roy, I am. I thought you knew.”

He had a hunch, of course. Fostered a spark of hope in his heart that there could be something between them after all. But once you grow accustomed to loneliness it’s a little hard to let yourself believe.

“Do I need to show you to believe me?”

She pulls his face closer to hers and for a millisecond he wants to let go, but when he smells the alcohol on her breath he pulls back. This isn’t right.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re off your tits. I’m not kissing you like this. Our first kiss is not going to be some inebriated tongue-wagging. You hear me? I’m a hopeless fucking romantic, that kiss is gonna be special. I’m gonna kiss you stupid.”

She bites her lips to suppress the smile from taking over.

“So if I were to ask again tomorrow, you’d say yes?”

“Mh.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

At that she snuggles further into his arms and rests her head against his shoulder, a content smile on her face as she closes her eyes.

“Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

He doesn’t admit it, but neither can he.

I think you're beautiful & I’ll meet you halfway

“Roy?”

Her voice echoes through his house as the eggs sizzle on the stove.

“Why is there a small child looking at me?”

“Phoebe, stop staring at her you little creep!”

“She’s so pretty.”

She has a point.

10 minutes later the girls join him in the kitchen, walking in hand in hand and big smiles on their faces. Seeing them get along makes his heart grow approximately 12 sizes. That being said, the two of them teaming up against him sounds like trouble to him. Good trouble though. Trouble he loves to deal with.

“Good morning, Roy.”

“Morning. Pheebs, go sit down, breakfast is almost ready.”

“Okay, Uncle Roy.”

Once she’s out of the immediate earshot he turns back towards (Y/N). Though she tried her best to conceal it, yesterday's makeup is still smudged around her eyes and her hair is a downright mess. She’s wearing his shirt though, standing barefoot in his kitchen after bonding with his niece.

Sometimes life is fucking sweet.

“Don’t look at me like that, I know I look like a mess.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You’re delusional.”

“That’s not what you said last night. Think you called me the fucking dream if I recall correctly. Said you were in love with me.”

(Y/N) leans against the kitchen island, her hands flat against the countertop and her eyes trained on Roy.

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

Roy mirrors her position, arms resting on the kitchen island across from her. God, she really is so beautiful.

“Remember what you said?”

“Do you?”

“You promised me something, Roy.”

Roy Kent doesn’t make promises lightly. He thinks there’s hardly anything quite as heartbreaking and awful as breaking a promise. He prides himself in keeping all the ones he’s made.

It’s only right to keep this one too.

“Phoebe,” he calls out to the little girl without moving his eyes away from (Y/N) for even a second “Blindfold!”

The 6-year-old slaps her tiny hands over her eyes obeying her uncle's orders with no hesitation and no questions asked. He’s proud of her. Silly little idiot.

Leaning across the counter, his lips almost reach (Y/N)’s. She’s so close. So close.

Only —

“Fuck, I can’t reach. My knee.”

There’s so much love in her eyes as she regards him. It almost knocks him out.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you halfway,” She says and gets up on her tiptoes.

Across the counter their lips meet. There are no fireworks or butterflies or an angel choir singing. But there is her tasting of toothpaste and smelling his deodorant. Her and the feeling of belonging. Of comfort and domesticity and love. He loves this woman, undeniably and irrevocably.

It’s a great kiss. Fucking mindblowing. There is no need for rom-com-induced fairytale fantasies when you have the real thing and it is so much better than any story could ever be.

“Hey Roy,” she whispers against his lips as they come up for air.

“Hmm?”

“The eggs are burning.”

“Fuck!”

“You owe me a pound, Uncle Roy!”

Irritating! Both of them.

They’re his whole entire heart.

I love you & I love you

“I love you.”

It’s a normal fucking Tuesday when she says it for the first time. Really says it. Using those exact words. There’s nothing special about that day but with those words, she puts magic into it. The way she puts magic into his life every single day.

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry, what?”

She’s laughing. She’s always laughing and smiling that goddamn smile that makes him go all soft inside. Beautiful, lovely, knockout that she is.

“I said fuck you. I’ve been thinking about how to tell you all fucking week and here you go and say it first. You’re infuriating.”

Softly she rolls over so she’s resting on his chest, fingers softly tracing patterns into his skin.

“You’ve said it a million times before, Roy.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Can’t hurt to say it again.

“I know. I knew. I always knew. From the moment you gave me your jacket.”

Of course, she knew. She took one look at him and it was like she got a view straight into his soul. Straight into his heart with all the vices and virtues, all his triumphs and defeats. All the good and the bad.

How fucking irritating. He loves her for it.

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x female reader #roy kent x f!reader #roy kent x fem!reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine #roy kent imagines #ted lasso tv show fanfiction #inbloomwriting

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months

Text

Playing Pretend (Roy Kent x Reader)

Request: Hey, I was wondering if you'd do a Roy Kent x reader series (maybe) where she asks him to pretend they're boyfriend/girlfriend because her ex-boyfriend is marrying her somewhat younger sister. Kinda like The Wedding Date (if you've seen it). Ends up happily ever after?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10 (Final)

#request ❤️#roy kent playing pretend #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #roy kent fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic

747 notes · View notes

starryevermore · 4 months

Text

celebrating you ✧ roy kent

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: roy kent x fem!reader

summary: you’re used to no one celebrating you. but roy proves to you that he’s not like the others.

word count: 1,486

warnings?: fluff fluff fluff, no use of y/n, not proofread

a gift for @captainsbestgal happy birthday bestie 🥰

Since you’ve entered adulthood, your birthday was never anything that you put a lot of weight onto. There was something different about adult birthdays, you supposed. Something that made people not want to put any effort into celebrating others. Or, at least, something made people not want to put any effort into celebrating you.

Ever since you finished school, it felt like you were pulling teeth just to get someone, anyone, to give you an ounce of attention and affection that they were ready to give to anyone else. Whether it be a promotion or a life milestone or your fucking birthday, it seemed like no one wanted to show up for you the way you would for anyone else. The way they would for anyone else. All of your friends would throw surprise parties and take each other out to fancy dinners whenever something great would happen. Your work would get balloons and a simple gift card for people’s birthdays. But for you? Crickets.

Anytime you tried to bring up the difference in treatment, people acted like you were out of your mind. Surely you understood that they had busy lives? That they can’t just drop everything at the tip of a hat? That these things take time, and energy, and coordination, and they don’t always have the capacity to meet those demands. And you understood! Really, you understood more than most. Often, you were the one playing host, or the one making incredibly personalized gifts, or the one just shooting a “Happy Birthday!” text when things got busy. You understood about not always having the capacity to show up. It’s just…Odd that you were the one who always got the short end of the stick.

Nowadays, you don’t even bother reminding anyone about your birthday or try to set something up on your own. It was too much effort, and too much heartbreak to see no one even care.

You expected this year to be more of the same. Nothing was particularly different, except that you had a boyfriend for a few months now. But the relationship was still new, so you didn’t expect Roy to do anything special for you. But, oh, you should have. The second you had mentioned in passing that you were taking a day off work for your birthday, Roy had a plan set in motion.

The morning of your birthday, you woke up to soft kisses being peppered across your face. Your nose wrinkled, slightly confused as to what was happening. But as you opened your eyes and saw Roy hovering over you, a goofy smile on his face, you couldn’t help but kiss him back.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” you asked between kisses.

“It’s your special day. Why wouldn’t I be in a good mood?”

You pulled away for a moment, your brows knit together. This was…odd? Unexpected? But, also appreciated. “Well, aren’t I lucky, then?”

Roy kissed you again then got out of bed. You whined at the loss of warmth, reaching out and trying to pull him back into bed. He batted your hands away. “Nuh uh, none of that.”

“You can’t just wake me up with birthday kisses then take it away!”

“I can if I’m going to make you birthday breakfast while you get ready,” Roy said. But he leaned down over you and kissed you again. “Was planning on taking you to the zoo.”

Your eyes lit up. “Really? Oh my god, I love the zoo.” Then you frowned. “But you have work?”

“You’re not the only one who can take the day off, love. Now, c’mon, I got a lot planned for you today.”

You started to push yourself out of bed, watching as Roy started to leave to go get breakfast made. But, then you called out to him. As he turned, you said, “I really appreciate you.”

“Get ready to appreciate me even more,” he teased.

After getting dressed and eating a breakfast of your favorite foods, you and Roy headed to the zoo. You were beyond excited to go. You hadn’t been to the zoo in years, having been too busy with other aspects of your life. You had once mentioned in passing, months ago, to Roy that you were itching to go.

“I can’t believe you even remembered this,” you had said as the two of you walked around.

Roy turned to look at you. His brows pinched together. “Why wouldn’t I remember?”

You shrugged, pointing to a monkey that was swinging around. “It was so long ago. And it wasn’t really anything that was important. I mean, I barely remember what we had for dinner last night.”

“Yeah, but what you say is important to me.”

The way he said it, the way it sounded so definite, so sure, it made your heart squeeze. God, could Roy be anymore perfect? Was it not enough that he was completely devoted to you and handsome to boot? Did he have to so considerate? You leaned your head against his arm, smiling. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Roy take out his phone and snap a selfie of the two of you.

“Wait, I wasn’t looking!” you giggled as he pocketed his phone.

“But you looked beautiful.” He nodded over to a different habitat. “C’mon, I heard a kid shout that the lemurs were out.”

“Ooh, I love lemurs!”

You didn’t think the day could get any better than this. You were a bit surprised at how into the zoo Roy was. In some ways, you still had the public image of Roy painted in your head—all stoic, the traditional ��masculine man”. The kind of guy that would grumble and groan at the idea of spending a day at the zoo. But Roy wasn’t like that. He was just as giddy as you, just perhaps a little less outward about expressing it. He let you pull him to every habitat you wanted to, pointing out a few that you missed. He took pictures of you—many candids where he called you the most beautiful woman in the world, as well as some posed pictures where he acted like you were walking the red carpet. Your favorites, though, were the silly selfies he would take with any animal that would wander near him. The day was so perfect. It actually made you start to like your birthday again.

As the two of you returned home, you couldn’t stop gushing about how amazing the day was. Talking about all the things you did. Roy didn’t even mind that you were talking about things he was literally present for. He loved your little recaps of the day, even adding on things that you forgot about. Perhaps if you hadn’t been so wrapped up in excitedly talking about the day, you would have noticed the giant grin on his face as he walked you up to the house.

“And, oh my god, the snow leopard! She was so sweet and—” you were saying as you unlocked and opened the door.

“SURPRISE!”

You jumped back, hitting Roy’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you, swaying you side to side as you processed that the entirety of AFC Richmond, Rebecca, and Keeley (and those guys who were always at The Crown & Anchor?) were standing in the middle of the living room. You looked up at him, your eyes wide. “Did you plan this?”

“Nah, just let all these fucking idiots breaking into my house,” he teased, kissing the top of your head.

Keeley ran up to you, throwing her arms around you. “You bet he planned this! I was practically shitting myself trying to keep it a secret, because, I was so upset you didn’t even tell me your birthday was coming up, babes! But I couldn’t even reveal I knew without revealing everything, and I think Roy would have killed me—”

“I wouldn’t have killed you,” Roy protested.

She waved him off. “Anyways, come in! You have got to see the cake Rebecca got you. It’s fucking gorgeous. I mean, something straight out of a magazine!”

Keeley grabbed your hand, dragging you into the house. As you were pulled away from Roy, you threw one last glance at Roy, a wide smile on your face. “I love you, you big softie!”

“Oi, don’t just go shouting that! I got a fucking reputation to uphold!” he laughed.

“So I shouldn’t post your selfie with the elephant?”

Will’s, who practically materialized beside you as if you were hiding in the boot room, eyes lit up. “Ooh, can I see that photo?”

Roy chased after you, growling lowly. “You’re fucking lucky it’s your birthday.”

You laughed.

Hmm. Perhaps you liked your birthday after all. All it took was someone showering you in the attention you deserved. Yeah. Yeah, you weren’t going to let Roy go after this.

#roy kent imagine #roy kent x reader #roy kent x fem!reader #roy kent x female reader #roy kent x you #roy kent x y/n #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fan fiction #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fan fic #roy kent fic #roy kent fluff #starrywrites #starryevermore

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peterpparkrr · 1 year

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Banter (Ch. 4)

Series: Banter

Pairing: Roy Kent x f!Reader

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

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

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

series masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh but move to say hello to him anyway.

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

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

Cool.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How have you been?" Roy asks you.

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

“Shit,” Roy replies.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Roy replies.

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

As it turns out, talking to Roy is easy.

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

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

“I said what I said,” Roy replies.

You burst into laughter at the whole story.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good food,” Roy adds from beside you.

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

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

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

And you didn’t hate it.

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

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

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

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

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

“What was his name?” Roy asks.

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

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

You laugh.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," Roy replies.

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

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

"Me too.”

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

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

"Goodnight," You reply.

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

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

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

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #roy kent #roy kent fanfic #roy kent x reader #roy kent drabble #roy kent reader insert #ted lasso reader insert #ted lasso series #roy kent series #keeley jones

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thirsty-flygirl · 7 months

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Good With Their Mouths

My fave fictional men have some very specific talents in the bedroom.

A/N: Back from the dead, put me in horny jail, whatever. I thought about it and I wrote it. Also, if you have any other Oscar/Pedro, Triple Frontier/Ted Lasso characters to add, let me know - this was way more fun that it should have been.

Spicy times ahead - minors DNI

Frankie Morales

We all know what Frankie is good at, and it’s keeping his idiotic buddies in line and eating pussy. That man has memorized every single sound and movement that you make during sex and he uses it to his advantage when he’s DTF. Which is all the time. He’s a tease, kissing down your body, stopping at all the hot zones from your lips to the apex of your thighs. He’ll nip at your mouth, slide down to circle his talented tongue around your nipple, then slowly make his way down your torso. He loves sucking a mark on your hip bone, marking you as his in a way that no other person can, but keeping it discreet because the man does not kiss and tell. Once he gets to your thighs, he will pepper the insides with kisses and nips while you whine and press your hips toward his generous mouth. After you’re nearly insane with arousal, he will gently suck at your clit, almost igniting your fuse right away. But again, this man knows exactly how to prolong your pleasure, so he will pull back just before the point of no return. You might bitch for a second, but the man dives in, tongue fucking your cunt and moaning so loudly your neighbors can hear him. He will alternate for an hour, sucking you off and licking up the taste of your slick until he finally lets you cum. You, of course, almost blackout from the sensation, but he doesn’t let up, working you even higher. You quickly cum again, squirting, and Frankie will swallow down everything you give him, then clean you up and ask for more two hours later.

Jamie Tartt

Jamie doesn’t always eat pussy, but when he does you can count on cumming hard. While his favorite thing in bed is to fuck you from behind while staring in a mirror at the way your tits swing and the face you make when you shatter around his (very impressive) dick, he will gladly eat you out if he has the time and he’s not too exhausted. What he lacks in finesse, he makes up for in effort. Jamie eats you out like he plays football - with one goal in mind. He wants to make you forget every name but his and, damn him, it works every time. He knows exactly what gets you off and will get right down to business when given the chance. He talks just as much in bed as he does on the pitch and holy shit, can this boy talk dirty to you. “Fuck, love, your pussy was made for eatin’,” he grins up at you as he swipes his tongue through your folds, blue eyes crinkling because he knows you’re just dying for it. “Mmmm, c’mon, you can do better than that,” he says while you beg him to let you cum, “tell me what you want, and you know I’ll give it to you . . “ All you can do is moan incoherently, which makes him absolutely smug because he knows exactly what you want and exactly how to give it to you. He spends his time between your legs sucking your clit the way you like and telling you what a good girl you are, how your cunt was made for him to fuck, that you taste so fucking good right now that he might cum before he can even sink his cock into you.. . . yeah. Jamie Tartt eats pussy.

Benny Miller

It’s hard for Benny to slow down, but when he does it’s literally the best you’ve ever had. He takes his time, stripping you down to your panties and breathing you in before he ever thinks about touching you. Your quiet whimpers whenever his lips brush against your most sensitive spots, still covered by your soaked panties, drives him wild. But he is a trained soldier and he knows how to wait out his target, so he’ll wait until you’re absolutely begging him to put his mouth on you. Once he does, it takes you about 30 seconds to reach your peak, but that’s okay, because your boy will spend as much time down there as he needs to make you come at least two more times before getting his dick wet. The second one is a slow burn, lots of kisses pressed against your clit and gentle pressure as he sucks on your folds. He loves to stroke his tongue inside you, following it up with his fingers, as many as you can take. Once you give in to him and cum for the second time, he will ramp it up, relentlessly licking and biting at you until you flood his mouth with your arousal. He will quickly move up to kiss you hard, fucking your mouth with his tongue so that you can taste yourself while sliding his thick cock inside you.

Santiago Garcia

We all know Santi fucks. Like, one look at this guy and you know he’s down for it any time, any place. He will turn that baseball cap around as soon as you give him the go sign and he’s on his knees ready to send you to heaven. He’s made a career out of paying attention to minute details and scanning for possible weaknesses, and making you cum is, in his mind, another mission. He has every sound, every breath cataloged. He knows when it’s too much and when it’s not enough, and he uses your body the way he knows you like it best. That said, he eats your pussy when he wants to eat your pussy, not the other way around. Luckily for you, he wants it almost every fucking day. It’s usually a surprise attack from Santi; you never know where or when, but he makes you so hot that the minute he initiates something you want it now. Something as innocent as washing dishes turns into a fuckfest; he’ll dip his hands in the warm, soapy water, flinging a little onto your white t-shirt so he can see your bra clearly underneath. As your nipples harden, he will stand behind you and massage your tits, pressing against you so you can feel his cock harden. His fingers will trail down your body, slipping underneath your shirt to softly stroke the curve of your belly before gently pulling your shorts down, kneeling on the floor despite his shitty joints because when he’s got your sweet pussy this close to his face, nothing hurts.He will begin from the back because he’s a goddamn KING, spreading your ass cheeks and letting his tongue lazily lick your hole(s). He’s a talker, but it’s more in quiet groans and whispers against your skin than actual words: “Oh, sweetheart, you’re so wet . . . let me take care of you . . . ‘s that all for me? . . .” Once you’re trembling and gripping the sink to stay standing, he will lead you to a more comfortable location for the main event.

Roy Kent

Okay. Okay. OKAY. Roy gives Pussy Eating King Frankie Morales a run for his money. This man serves cunt and eats it too. He will give it to you any way you want it. You want it slow, romantic? Roy Kent will gently lick your clit until you feel like you might explode from the sheer pleasure his mouth can bring you. The man doesn’t miss a spot, softly sucking and kissing your clit, your lips, the skin of your thighs, and everywhere in between. But the way you moan his name, like you’re on another plane of existence and he is the singular thing keeping you tied to Earth? Drives him absolutely feral. He can turn on a dime, eating your pussy like a starving man eating his first meal in a month. His groans are absolutely filthy, his big hands wrapping around your thighs so he can keep you right where he wants you. He’ll press his hips into the mattress, just to relieve some of the pressure on his cock, and he’ll cum, just like that, and be hard again for you in less time than it takes to get through halftime on match day. Once he’s completely wrung the pleasure from your body, he will grip himself and look you in the fucking eye as he slides into you. The intensity in his gaze and way he says, “Fuck, you’re incredible,” makes you nearly cum again.

Javier Pena

One of my OG fictional boyfriends, Javi doesn’t eat pussy. Okay, he does, but it’s definitely not his favorite thing to do. Thing is, the man is so fucking good at it, he deserves a medal and a membership card, or something. Everything about him screams sexy, from his swagger to the way those big brown eyes just need to give you a look (yeah, you know the one, where he eye fucks you from head to toe and then just licks that pouty bottom lip) to get you wet. He’s a little like Santiago Garcia, the way he will eat your pussy when he wants to, not when you want it. Once he’s down there, though, he savors you. He’s not a chump and if he’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it well. He pays attention to the things you like, and will nibble and suck your clit in alternating rhythms, slow and fast, to get you off. The one thing that sets Javi apart is the way he uses those thick fingers to help push you over the edge. While his lips and tongue are working your clit, he thrusts his fingers inside you, stretching you so good. Curling his fingers up until he finds the spot that makes you explode, Javi will work you until you’re almost there, pulling back before he can taste your sweet cum. Instead, he’ll trail those wet fingers down to your ass, slowly working them against your skin and dipping inside you, watching your pussy clench around nothing. Eventually he’ll finish the job, but not until you’re a sweaty, teary mess on his bed and swearing you’ll do anything for him if he’ll just let you cum.

Poe Dameron

Poe, my baby, my true love, and the one that got away (yes, I’m delusional). This man does not have a lot of time, so most of your sexual liaisons are a bit rushed and there’s not enough time or space to really get down to business. BUT. When you both have a few unoccupied hours to yourselves? You will be absolutely torn apart, put back together, and shattered again. Poe Dameron loves you. He loves every. Single. Part of you. Every curve, dimple, roll; the hard places and the soft places and the places that you hate - Poe finds you absolutely stunning and would gladly spend hours worshiping every inch of your body if your little whines and breathy moans didn’t make him want to get right to the main event. His sexy, panty-melting smirk as he runs his tongue down your body floods your core to the point where you would feel embarrassed if it didn’t feel so fucking good. And Poe loves how wet you get for him. He gently tugs your underwear down your legs, eyes glued to the heaven between your thighs. He’s almost reverent at this moment, settling down on the mattress and letting his thumbs pull you apart - just a little - so he can see your slit leaking. You hear a shaky breath, and those brown doe eyes will just stare into yours. In that moment, you can see how badly he wants you, and you feel beautiful under him. “I love how wet you get for me,” he mumbles, eyes never leaving you as he dips his head and licks up a taste with the tip of his tongue. Just the smallest touch makes your hips jump and he spreads that warm hand flat on your belly to keep you grounded. “Shhh, sweetheart, I’ll make you feel good,” he says and you believe it with everything inside you. Poe gets messy when he eats you out, using every part of his mouth to make you feel good. He loves it, really, the scent and the taste and the sight of you, coming undone on his bed. When you cum, it’s a long, rolling orgasm that just won’t stop, one right into the second, and maybe a third if you have the time. When he’s sure you’re satisfied, he’ll lick his lips and kiss back up your body, taking your mouth with his and letting his tongue swipe against yours as he urges his thick cock inside your wet heat. Eyes rolling back, Poe will let out the most satisfied groan as he begins thrusting, bringing you both quickly to release. When the two of you cum together, he’ll rest his forehead against yours and give you a soft kiss, the ring he always wears resting between your breasts on its chain.

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daydreamgoddess14 · 8 months

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Salvation pt. 3

Full Masterlist

Roy Kent Masterlist

Roy Kent / Reader - general rating for now... set to increase 😏

Meet the woman who stole Roy Kent's watch... We finally get to some Roy x Reader deep conversation and messy history... This one is ALL OF THE ANGST guys! But the reward in part 4.... whooooo boy! The spoils (🔥) are coming lads, fear not!

This also helpfully covers one of the prompts from my 200 Followers Celebration 🎉! From a lovely Anon who requested Roy and "I won't let anything bad happen to you".

~~~~~~~~

You pick Sammy up. It’s an excuse really to see Nia, your mother/sister/best friend stand in of the last few years. Even if she is practically the same age. If Sammy’s the one who gave you a job and some semblance of financial security, Nia’s the one who recognised the dark hole you were in and lowered down the ladder to you. You hadn’t realised how close you could feel with someone in only three years, but she’d become your ‘person’ almost immediately.

“Darling, morning.”

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Like my ribs have become a xylophone.” You grimace at that. The human body is a magnificent and terrifying thing. When she’d shown you in her baby book how her organs shifted to make space for her growing baby, you’d declared auntie duty would be just fine, thanks. There would be no babies moving your organs around.

“Nice. Brought you breakfast.” You pass her a bag of pastries. “Is he ready yet?”

“Nearly. Must have changed either his tie or his turban about four times trying to find the perfect combination,” you both roll your eyes and laugh at his commitment to the flawless matching pair. You both knew the answer already -

“Blue floral.” You confirm together with a nod.

“The fabric is just beautiful. I do feel sorry for the poor bugger who has to make a matching tie for every turban though.” You muse, knowing it’s his mother in law who takes up that mantle.

“I know, right? And he complains that I buy too many books? I think not, pal.” She sniggers.

“You show him who’s boss. Cos if you don’t, then a certain someone else will.” You point at her growing belly.

“Come on, Sam. You’re going to be late!” She shouts up the stairs. “Dinner tonight?” She asks you, she knows you might need company after the day ahead of you. You’ve disclosed a lot more of your past to her than Sam so she’s already up to speed on the last few days. You nod gratefully. “You’ll be fine. You need to talk to him though, apologise properly - explain what was going on back then.”

“I know. I will.” You hug her tightly and pester Sam out of the door.

Rebecca Welton is a gracious host. Warm, welcoming… you knew the lies the tabloids liked to spread so you knew the whole ‘cold, old Rebecca’ name tag was a load of crap.

“So, I think if it suits you both, I’ll have a cup of tea with Sam and we can get caught up while I get Roy to give you a tour and then we can arrange some smaller interviews with key staff and players?” Sam is beside himself,

“Sounds perfect Ms. Welton.”

“Yep, I’d love a tour.” You accept with a tight smile.

“Wonderful! Here’s Roy now,” he steps through the open door and is clearly not expecting to see you.

“Thought we had reporters coming?” He grunts.

“We do, Sammy’s here from the Gazette. This is his… apprentice?” Rebecca tells him, “Something like that.” Sam laughs. You take a deep breath before holding your hand out,

“Nice to meet you again.”

“Hmm.” His warm hand engulfs yours and shakes it. The feel of his skin against yours is enough to trigger memories through your brain at top speed - his hand in yours, his hands on your face, your legs, in your hair. You snatch your hand away. “Come on, tour.” You follow him down the stairs and through mazes of rooms, “ticket office, finance,” then out into a wide corridor, “hall of fame.” You stop to look at the collection of memorabilia, making your way slowly past each piece and reading the accompanying cards. You stop fully at the couple of shelves dedicated to him, fingertips resting lightly on the glass. He clears his throat and you follow him deeper into the building. “Locker room, physio, boot room.” He pauses at the boot room. More memories come flooding back. “Remember when we -”

“Yeahhh,” you breathed, “I remember every single time.” You turn away to avoid his gaze.

“We were good together?”

“The best.” You reply quietly, a little sadness creeping in. He pushes the door open and holds it for you to follow. You sit shoulder to shoulder on the bench, both looking straight ahead.

“How have you been?” He asks quietly.

“Better recently. You?”

“Well no one has stolen my fucking watch lately.” He bumps you slightly, there’s the barest hint of amusement in his voice that you latch onto.

“They haven’t tried hard enough then,” you reply with a wry smile. He lets out a breathy laugh that he can’t quite disguise as anything else.

“I wish I could be more fucking angry with you than I am.”

“You have every right to be angry with me. I fucked up. I’ve been angry with myself for as long as I can remember.”

“You really fucked up. I just can’t understand why. I’ve spent this whole time trying to understand why. Because we were good together.”

“I know.” You agree, again. You were good together. You’ve been single since the day you walked out on him, haven’t even kissed anyone else in all that time. He’s the one you think of when you’re alone - he’s the only one you need to think of when you can’t sleep and you let your memories guide your hand down your body. These are obviously things you can’t say aloud, illicit memories you shouldn’t lean on but do. You sigh, he’s so expectant beside you, “How are you so… calm?” you wonder aloud.

“Therapy,” he mutters with a short laugh.

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah, you?”

“No. Not sure if I’m ready for that yet.”

“Much as I hate to admit it, it helps.”

“Do you remember when you were angling for an invite to Christmas at my mums?” You ask, he frowns a little at the sudden change of subject. You feel him nod next to you.

“That’s when it started, that’s when you started to pull away. I never met any of your family.”

“My brother. You never met him, I never wanted you to meet him. He was there… he’s an addict. He has been for a really long time and we’ve tried everything to help him, everything. He told me that he was in some money trouble with some blokes he brought off. I didn’t have much but I gave him everything I had saved. Then he needed more. And more, and more and I just didn’t know where I was going to get it from, or how to help him. I took the watch, changed my phone number and left.” You pause for a minute to take stock of what you’ve said, you can tell he wants to ask questions but he waits patiently instead. “He was a fucking mess. I made him tell me who he owed and went to see them on my own, told them I’d pay them back myself if they never went near him again. Worked about three jobs, moved back in with mum so I wouldn’t have to pay rent as well, and spent the next year and a half paying them back. I worked 18 hour days, 7 days a week. I literally kept back, like, a tenner a week for myself. I kept a record of how much I paid and when. When we were done I told them so and told them to never come near us again.”

“And?”

“They still turn up occasionally to try and get more out of me, they claim it’s interest.”

“And your brother?”

“We sent him to my uncle’s house up in the North West, he’s been there ever since but he’s clean now. Too scared to come home though.” Roy is quiet for the longest time.

“He must have owed…”

“About 130k. Maybe a bit more than that. I was pretty fucking knackered. I was doing early mornings 4-8am at Maccys, then 8.30-5 with Sammy at the paper and then bar shifts til about 10 or 11 pm most nights. Sam saved me, let me get an hour's kip at lunchtime, and brought extra food every day for me to share with him.”

“Fuuuuuck.” He slumps where he’s sat next to you.

“There is something else.” He looks over in disbelief. You reach into your bag, pull out a sleek, matt black box and put it in his hands.

“Fuck off?” He slides open the box to find his Rolex, in pristine condition - still ticking. “Fuck off.”

“I went to hand it over to them and… I couldn’t. I didn’t want them to have something of yours. I didn’t want to know that I’d done that, sunk that low.” Your voice gets even smaller, “they tried to suggest other methods of payment but…” you feel his shoulders tense, see his fists ball tightly in his lap, “I told them to give me a couple of months and see that I was good for the money, and if I ever missed a payment then we’d have that conversation.” He wants to know if you ever had the conversation, you can feel it in the air between you both,

“You never have to justify yourself to me.” He says firmly.

“I didn’t do it. Never missed a payment. Had to borrow a bit from Sam occasionally when I fell short, but I was never going to have that conversation with them. Never.” The air feels weighty with the tension, like it's risen up from your shoulders where it’s weighed you down for the last three years and is now hovering around you both. You’re amazed you got through it without tears. It’s been so easy to fall into the trap of feeling sorry for yourself over the years and wallow in the self pity of it all. Roy on the other hand is still visibly tense, his knuckles white. You tentatively reach your hand across to cover his, using your fingers to unball his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds worse than he had when he asked the same question a few days ago. His voice is hoarse and tight,

“I couldn’t let them know about you. They’d have ruined you. I had to protect you.”

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I would never have let anything happen to you. We could have sorted it together.” You turn to face him, bringing your other hand to his cheek,

“No love, it was never your problem to fix.”

“If all of this was over eighteen months ago -”

“Don’t ask me why I didn’t come back, Roy. It’s never really over, I couldn’t bring this shit to your doorstep and these dickheads just turn up whenever they think they might get a bit of extra cash out of me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry I took your watch and I’m sorry I walked out on us.” You can hear voices in the corridor outside, your times up and now you both have to be the epitome of professionalism while Roy is interviewed. “I’ll get Sam to interview the team and other staff first, give you some time.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve been living with this for three years, I’m tougher than I look. Besides, I’ve got some happy memories of this place,” you admit, looking around the familiar boot room. “I had the best sex of my life in this very room.” He lets out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I would never expect you to forgive me, Roy, but I truly thank you for giving me the chance to explain.” You pat his hand gently and leave a cool space beside him when you slip through the door to meet up with Sam and Rebecca.

~~~~~~

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfic #roy kent x you #roy kent smut #roy kent imagine #roy kent angst

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kentdreaming · 1 year

Text

Ribs: a Roy Kent story

Series: Ribs

Pairing: Roy Kent x OC

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

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing but that's about it

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

gif from @winterscaptain

Chapter 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” he nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fuckin’ in,” Talia responded.

“I didn’t even finish–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x OC #roy kent drabble #roy kent fanfic #ted lasso #roy kent #roy kent insert #fanfic #ted lasso drabble #slow burn #fluff

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indigo-graves · 5 months

Text

|After| A Roy Kent One-Shot

Summary: Follow-up to "Soft." Roy Kent shows up on Alex's doorstep with a whole lot to say. What happens once she lets him in to discuss his feelings further?

Word Count: 2,536

Status: Complete

Pairing: Roy Kent/OC

Warnings: SMUT! Roy’s filthy mouth.

a03

ff.net

wattpad

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axelsagewrites · 4 months

Text

Roy Kent*Future Mrs Gramma

Pairing: roy x f!reader, bestie!jamie x platonic reader

Word count: 1240

Warnings: drinking, angry roy, swearing

Masterlist Here

You and Jamie were the type of friends that wouldn’t see ach other for weeks, months even, then as soon as the other came into sight you were barrelling into their arms for a hug and to jump right back into your last conversation. So, when Jamie found out you were moving to London, only a ten-minute drive from his work no less, he was ecstatic to say the least.

As much as you loved Jamie you never particularly cared about football which weirdly made your friendship better but after Jamie had come round for drinks at your new flat in your drunken haze you decided it was a great idea to go down to Richmond to continue the celebrations. It only took 20 quid and a questionable grounds keeper to get in and soon you were drinking in the stands with your best friend.

“I’m on top of the world!” Jamie half screamed, standing on top of the seat beside where you sat.

You giggled as you hauled yourself up to stand on the seat next to him, “Woohoo!”

The sun light pierced your skull as your eyes slowly began to drag themselves open. The piercing ring of a whistle burned your ear as you pulled yourself up. Looking around you remembered where you were. Fuck. You and Jamie must’ve fallen asleep last night lying on the ground in a row of seats at least 15 rows back. On the upside this meant the footballers on the pitch couldn’t see you as they practised but, on the downside, they were already here!?

“Pst, Jamie,” you whispered as you shoved at the lump whose head had been lying opposite of yours. Jamie just mumbled something as he rolled on his side. Almost as if fate you could hear a very deep, and very angry voice yell “where the fuck is Tartt?”

“Get up,” you gritted your teeth, holding back gagging as you tried to both nurse your hangover and wake up the log beside you. you sighed before pinching his nose.

Jamie began to flap, swatting at your hands, before managing to sit up and out of your grip, “What the fuck man?” he yelled before his eyes fell to the pitch, “Fuck,” he mumbled as you face palmed.

“Tartt!” the voice screamed, heavy footsteps following.

Thank god you were at the furthest away seats. “It was nice knowing you Jamie,” you sighed, patting his shoulder.

“You’re fucked if he catches you too, ya know?”

“Fuck,” you looked up over the seat to see a relatively built man in his 30s thundering over to the section you were in.

“Who the hell is there?” the gruff voice called out as he climbed into the stands.

It was now or never. thank god your parents forced you to do track you thought as you pulled yourself to your feet and began to book it. you heard Jamies cheers as you began to essentially jump down the rows over the seats, all while trying not to spew. The man trying to catch you paused, debating which person to chase first as Jamie took off running the other way.

Sadly, he chose you. however luckily for you he tried to chase you into the seats, and you were, somehow, faster than him despite him being a professional footballer. The number of times you and Jamie had to run away from the people he’d mouthed off to had apparently came in handy as you jumped out the stands, onto the pitch, and began to sprint.

You could hear the man start to chase you but refused to turn around, instead heading straight to the exit, screaming, “I fucking hate you Jamie!” as you ran. Somehow you made it to the parking lot with the worst stitch of your life and a snapchat from Jamie keeled over laughing at the side of the pitch.

You swore from then on to avoid Richmond like the plague. That was until Jamie texted you saying he needed a lift cause his car had a flat tire. as you sat in the parking lot, tapping on your steering wheel bored out your nut you heard the metal door clang as it slammed open. You looked up, half expecting to see Jamie, and instead finally seeing those angry eyes up close. “Oh fuck,”

“You!” you could see him mouth, his finger jabbing at you as you locked the car doors. He stormed over, tapping on your window.

You let it down ever so slightly, “Hello,” you said, as if nothing had happened.

“Hi,”

“Can I help you?”

“Can you fucking-I-how-I mean-you run fucking fast!” he eventually managed out prompting you to raise an eyebrow, “Aren’t you gonna roll your window down all the way?”

“Last time I saw you, you were chasing me,”

“That’s cause you and your prick boyfriend broke into the stadium,”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said, and a strange look washed over his face you couldn't quite read, “Besides he said you made him run 30 laps hungover. I think we’re even,”

This time he squinted, his weird look vanishing, “Maybe I should make you run 30 laps,”

You couldn’t help but snort at his words, “Id like to see you fucking try,” you said as a few other footballers began to walk out, all looking away when he glared at them, “Roy, right?”

“Yeah, who are you?” he asked. You figured with witnesses now he couldn’t murder you so rolled the window down all the way and stuck your hand out to introduce yourself. His shake was firm, his skin rough as sandpaper, but for some reason you were sad to let go, “Id like to say it was nice to meet you,”

“Don’t worry,” you said, turning the car on when you saw Jamie finally sauntering out, “feelings mutual,” you said before beeping your horn and leaning out the window, “Get a fucking move on mate,” you called at Jamie before ducking back into the car. “And don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson. I hate running,”

“Me too,”

You tilted your head in confusion, a trait Roy found oddly endearing, “You’re a footballer?”

“I know,” he said as if talking to a small child making you roll your eyes, “What can I say? I’m a fucking idiot,”

“Alright grampa don’t be too hard on yourself,” Jamie grinned as he climbed into the passenger seat. You however turned around and smacked his arm, “Eh! What’s that for?”

“You told me three. Its fucking almost four you twat,”

“Practise ran over! blame him,” he said, pointing at Roy who was already rolling his eyes.

“Call us even then?” you sighed, turning to Roy. He nodded and started to walk away as you put the car into first gear only to be interrupted by Roy walking back over, “You, okay?”

“Yeah, just wondering,” he paused for a second, “You gonna be at the next game?”

You glanced at Jamie whose eyes were bulging out his sockets before laughing. “Dunno, should I be?”

“Wouldn’t mind it if you were,”

“Might just come then,” you grinned, “See you around Roy,” you said but all he did was nod and step away so you could finally drive off.

Jamie groaned as you drove out the parking lot, “Oh god you’re gonna fuck a grampa,”

“Not just any grampa,” you laughed at him, “I’m gonna be your step gramma.”

Ted Lasso Taglist: @gee72sstuff

General Taglist: @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate

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thewritingofamadwoman · 5 months

Text

Stress Relief

The way Roy Kent (and Brett Goldstein) live in my head rent free 24/7.

Pairing: Roy Kent x Fem!Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Fluff, some making out, and Roy Kent being a cocky little shit

Enjoy!

You wiped your hands clean on a towel and smiled at the young man on the table.

“Okay Sam, you’re all done. Continue to work on those stretches at home and you’ll be in tip top shape for the game next weekend.”

Sam Obisanya smiled back at you, slowly getting up off the table.

“Thank you again, so much. I will do all the exercises you’ve recommended, and I will also look into Pilates classes.”

You gave Sam a quizzical look.

“You don’t have to do that Sam, it’s just a sprained ankle…”

The young man laughed.

“Oh no I know, I just am interested in Pilates. I’ve heard it does wonders for your body, core, and state of mind.”

Sam looked at you so genuinely, that you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. He was absolutely precious. Sam smiled at you again and waved goodbye before exiting the treatment room. Between Sam’s ankle, Dani’s knee and Jamie’s hamstring, you had been working nonstop all week, doing your best to heal them as best you could.

You were jotting down notes in Sam’s folder when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in!”

Roy Kent walked in, shut the door behind him and let out the deepest sigh/growl you’ve heard in a while. You looked up and put the folder down on your desk, taking a second to admire the grouchy coach. Roy stood there, arms at his sides and shoulders back in his usual stance. His biceps bulging from underneath the short sleeves of his coach jersey, the watch on his right wrist gleaming under the florescent lighting in the treatment room. Your eyes trailed to Roy’s face; his brows drawn together in their usual frown and his lips following suit.

“Well hello to you, too,” you greeted playfully.

Roy raised an eyebrow at you and rolled his eyes warm heartedly.

“Hi,” he exhaled, his deep voice reverberating through you. God you loved his voice.

You waited for him to continue, seeing the thoughts running through his mind. Roy took another breath and let it all out.

“These fucks have got me more stressed out than the “girls nine under nine” ever did. Fucking shits.” Roy points a finger to the door behind him. I swear, if I have to hear Zava go on about his fucking avocado farm one more time, I’m going fucking quit and go back to being a fucking pundit.”

And there it was. You nodded sympathetically and moved off from the desk you were leaning on and waved your hand to the table in front of you, signally Roy to have a seat. The coach followed suit, letting out a huff of air as he did. You stepped on a mechanical lever underneath the table, causing the table to lower so that Roy was at a comfortable height for you. You placed your hands on his shoulders gently before giving them a tight squeeze.

“You’re not going to quit, baby. You just need a second to relax. You haven’t been to Maureen’s house in a few weeks now that I think of it. When was your last yoga session with the ladies?” You pressed down on Roy’s shoulders again, feeling the immense amount of tension he was keeping at the base of his neck.

Roy grunted at the feeling of your hands, slowly leaning into your touch.

“Maureen’s been dealing with her son’s upcoming wedding, and Carol’s neice is going through a divorce so we’ve all been pushing back our next yoga date.”

You smiled at how invested Roy was with his little yoga group. He always managed to melt your heart with the simplest of things.

“Well then, the solution is simple. You need a little bit of stress relief. You’re so tense Roy, all this pent up pressure isn’t going to do you any good. I’m going to take care of it, okay?”

You spoke as gently while beginning to massage Roy’s shoulders. You’ve been told by the team that you give the best massages known to man. And while it was part of your job as the team’s physio, right now you weren’t a PT. You were Roy’s girlfriend, ready to help your man relax. A few moments pass in silence, the only sounds in the room were of Roy’s deep breathing, and occasional moan whenever you came across a particular tender spot.

“Fuuuuuuuck” Roy groaned, relishing in the feel of your hands digging into the knots in his neck and shoulders. “That feels incredible,” he sighed, getting lost in the feel of it all. You smiled to yourself, glad to be able to help him in any way. Thirty minutes go by until you could no longer find any strained muscles under his shirt. You gave Roy’s shoulders one final squeeze, leaning down to give him a small kiss on the back of his head.

“All done. Hope you’re feeling a little less stressed, my love.”

Roy turns his head to face you, his eyes glossy as if he were in a dreamy state of mind.

“That was fucking mind blowing and exactly what I needed. Fuck you’re amazing. Thank you,” he praised, slowly turning his body and swinging his legs over the other edge of the table so that he was facing you. You beamed at his compliment, moving forward as well so that you were standing in-between his legs, the table allowing you to finally be able to stare directly into Roy’s eyes. Those deep, chocolate colored eyes that you’ve been in love with for quite some time.

“You’re welcome, baby.” You reply, leaning forward to give Roy’s a quick yet sweet peck on his lips. You loved the feel of his soft lips, plush and pillowy against your own. How something so soft could voice so many “fucks” in a day, you’ll never understand. But you loved it nonetheless. When you pulled back, you noticed Roy’s brows had softened significantly and there was a look of adoration in his eyes. You were sure it mirrored the look you gave him 95% of the time.

“Once Maureen and Carol get settled, and your yoga routine goes back to normal, your stress levels won’t be as high anymore. But until then, I’m more than happy to help you relieve it. Whether here or at home, you just come to me and I’ve got you. Okay?”

You gave Roy another little peck before you felt his lips twitch up into a smirk. You pulled back to find him looking at you mischievously. The hands that were unconsciously placed on your hips while you kissed began to slowly slide up your sides and back down to your hips.

“Going to help me relieve some stress, hmm? And at work no less? How naughty.”

The look he gave you in that moment set your insides on fire, and Roy took that moment to pull you closer to him, arms locking behind you to keep you in place. You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you wrapped your own arms around his neck, scooting as close as you could, your chest pressed up against his.

“Me? Naughty? I’m an angel,” you teased, drawing a pretend halo above your head.

Roy growled and leaned in, claiming your lips with his. You sighed into his kiss, your nails gently carding through his hair at the back of his head. Roy broke the kiss first but didn’t relent, moving his lips to your neck and planting wet kisses up and down the column of your throat. You felt your knees weaken, like they always did whenever Roy found that deliciously sweet spot right below your ear. You gasped, and Roy smiled onto your skin, kissing his way down slowly once more. His hands began to roam your body as yours found purchase on his shoulders.

“Oh God, fuck,” you whispered and giggled as you shivered when you felt Roy lick and suck at the base of your throat. Roy’s deep chuckle vibrated against you.

“Aww baby, you can just call me Roy,” he mused and rolled your eyes.

“Little shit,” you said breathlessly, pulling back as far as Roy would allow you, his arms still trapping you to him.

“As much as I’d like to continue this, I do have both Bumbercatch and Zorreaux due for an assessment soon. Buuuuut I can absolutely help you with your little stress relief issue at home later, okay?”

Roy smiled at you and nodded, grunting in agreement.

“Just one thing though, darling. You and I both know it’s not a “little” stress relief issue. Shall I remind you of last time, when you struggled to get all of me insi-“ you immediately cut him off, your hand cupping over his mouth, a blush engulfing your cheeks.

“Shuuuush! Shush! You know what I meant for fucks sake. Anyone can hear you, these walls are paper thin, you heathen!” You berrated, a giggle bubbling in your throat. Roy laughed against your hand and kissed your palm while you shook your head at him.

“Glad you’re feeling MUCH better, Coach Kent. Now shoo, send in Bumbercatch if he’s out there and I’ll deal with you later.”

Roy continued to smile at you and when you removed your hand, you got the full effect of his perfect smile. You couldn’t help your own smile as Roy hopped off the table and retreated to the door. You crossed your arms across your chest again as he turned around one final time before winking at you before exiting. You heard him loud and clear as he made his way back to the locker room.

“Oi! Bumbercatch! You’re needed in physio. Move!”

You shook your head and laughed to yourself before you wiped down the table and set up the room. This was going to be a very long afternoon.

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #Roy Kent x fem!reader #Roy Kent oneshot #Roy Kent imagine #Roy Kent fanfic

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csigeoblue · 9 months

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Double Date Part 1 - Roy Kent x Platonic!Reader (Ted Lasso Fic)

A/N: Roy Kent is your sour bestie and hates your mean boyfriend.

"Oh come on Roy! Y/N has been asking us to double date with their boyfriend for a month now. They're gonna think you don't like them anymore if you keep dodging 'em babe." As much as it pissed Roy off that Keeley was right, he knew he had to make an appearance especially since Luke is letting you show your face in public for the first time in a while. He'd always been skeptical of the guy when you first started dating but he didn't want to get in the way of your happiness as you'd been so helpful in getting him off his ass to win Keeley back.

"Oi! Fine. We'll fucking go on this stupid double date to check on Y/N." Keely squealed in excitement. She knew you'd be so happy to see your best friend. Roy looked down at his phone to text you back in your chat with Keeley.

RK: Let's meet at your favorite restaurant, Y/N/N.

YN: Luke made reservations for us at Pearl's. xD

RK: But you fucking hate that place.

YN: It's grown on me :3 ... Besides you and Keels love going there!

RK: If you're sure.

Only a fucking arsehole would take their partner to a place they absolutely hate. Roy tried to shrug off the weirdness of your texts and focus on the Tesco trip he had planned with Keeley. ___________________

At dinner, Roy's concern only grew. You came at him like you normally would for an overly aggressive hug but the look in Luke's eyes as he witnessed it was not at all jokingly annoyed even though his words were meant to be. Keeley hugged you with the same energy - having missed you the last few weeks.

"C'mon Darling, don't make a show with me right here."

"Sorry love, you know Roy's my best mate from my time at Chelsea."

"Why don't we get our table then? Thanks for making the rezzie Luke!" Keeley, bless her heart, attempted to diffuse the situation by deflecting attention towards the restaurant you all were meeting at.

You tried to get Luke and Roy to engage in conversation but it seemed Luke only cared about Keeley today.

"Honey, why don't you tell Roy about your new promotion at work?"

"Yes Luke, tell me about fucking work." Keeley rolled her eyes at Roy's sarcasm before hopping in. "Congratulations Luke! What is it you're doing nowadays?"

"Well Keeley, I am now a senior financial analyst at a big firm in London. Taking on more responsibilities and training new idiots."

"They're not idiots babe - they just need your guidance to know what to do. It's not easy being the new kid on the job." The wicked smile Luke gave you at your response made you freeze. Keeley might have missed it because she piped up adding onto your stance but Roy's all knowing gaze caught the slight tremor in your hand as you reached for your wine.

Luke chose that same moment to make a big gesture with his arms pushing back on Keeley a bit and happened to bump your wine allover your shirt as you went to sip. Roy stood up in fury as you did in shock. Luke had the audacity to laugh.

"Oi! Fucking hell, what was that?" Roy breathed heavily as Keeley put a hand on his arm to let him know she was there.

"Sorry Darling, guess you should be more careful of what's happening around you." You took a deep breathe to calm your nerves although now you were full on shaking. You nodded along mumbling an apology to the group.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Hey Y/N/N, it's not your fucking fault. It's this twat sitting next to you's fault."

Luke threw his napkin on the table as Roy sat down and you were wiping your top. "Alright that's it. Y/N, we are leaving. I'm sick of his shit."

Keeley spoke up concerned at how you've completely shut down.

"Y/N/N, babe, you can stay with us for dinner if you want. I've got a spare top you can borrow in the car. It'll only take a second." You shook your head while gathering your things. Luke had already started walking away from your group.

"No that's okay Keeley. I don't want to make things any worse than I have. You both have a good meal. Roy, you be better be good to this one." You pointed to Keeley with a small smile on your face.

Part 2

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso #tw abuse #roy kent fanfic #roy kent x reader #roy kent fic #keeley jones #roy kent fanfiction

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its-time-to-write · 10 months

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I want to write a Roy Kent fic. The pros: Roy Kent fic. The cons: write.

#roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #ted lasso

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months

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Hey, I was wondering if you'd do a Roy Kent x reader series (maybe) where she asks him to pretend they're boyfriend/girlfriend because her ex-boyfriend is marrying her somewhat younger sister. Kinda like The Wedding Date (if you've seen it). Ends up happily ever after?

Ahh, I was going to originally try to do this in one go, but decided to do this in a few small parts so I can get some fluff breaks while working on my longer fic. Here's part one!

Playing Pretend (Part 1)

Roy Kent x Reader

1.9k words

Warnings: Language, references to possible cheating, mutual pining, major rom-com vibes

Summary: The reader has a huge favor to ask Roy Kent- a guy who can never say no to her.

Series Masterlist

“What the fuck d’you want me to do?”

“Be my boyfriend,” you explained slowly. “At the wedding.”

Roy wrinkled his nose. “There’s really no one else you can ask?”

You let out a giant sigh and tapped the side of your beer bottle. “I mean, sure, maybe. But you’re Roy fucking Kent. You’d be kind of perfect.”

His eyes bore into yours. Roy Kent had known you quite literally your whole life; he could still remember when his very pregnant mother took him to the hospital to meet you, his sister’s future best friend. Your families were ridiculously close. Up until you were about sixteen, he thought of you as an annoying little bonus sister; then, one Christmas, he came home and suddenly felt decidedly un-brotherly towards you. The way you smiled at him, the way you wore that pink dress, the way you kissed his cheek before you left at the end of the party, all of it made something snap in his brain. For years after that, the very sight of you burned his chest. But there was no way he could tell you; his little sister’s best friend? Cliché.

But those cliché feelings meant he couldn’t say no to you. Not when you’d called him late at night needing to escape from skeevy dates. Not when you’d begged him for an autograph from Jamie Tartt. Not when you’d demanded to know where he got the kebabs he brought to his sister’s parties. And definitely not now, when your heart was in a million pieces as you watched your baby sister get ready to marry your ex-boyfriend.

The idea was insane, you freely admitted that. But the situation you found yourself was equally insane, if you were being honest.

You had dated Jim for years. And Roy fucking hated him. The guy was everything Roy wasn’t: friendly, outgoing, affable, posh, clever. And you loved him. Your parents loved him. Everyone loved him.

When Jim ended things out of the blue three years ago, everyone was shocked. He hadn’t proposed, per se, but it was expected. Things were implied. You’d started looking at rings and thinking about venues. So, when he suddenly broke up with you, you were devastated. You’d spent more than a few nights curled up on the couch at Roy’s sister’s house, with Roy taking Phoebe out of the house so you could mourn with your best friend in peace.

Just when you thought you were pretty much over things, your baby sister Lauren came home with big news. And a ring on her finger. And Jim.

You’d quietly excused yourself from the party she’d chosen to announce her engagement at, walked into a bathroom and vomited, and called Roy. He’d picked you up and drove you to his sister’s, where he watched you drink whiskey straight from a bottle and cry in his sister’s arms.

Now you sat next to him at a bar, where you’d asked him to meet you so you could ask him a huge favor. He’d expected tickets to a match, or help moving to a new flat, or asking him to donate a fucking kidney, literally anything but this. A weekend at some posh estate where your whole family would be celebrating your sister and fucking Jim, watching your heart break all over again sounded like absolute shit to Roy.

But you looked at him with those stupid pleading eyes. “Please, Roy,” you begged. “You’re the only guy I trust enough for this. You’ll protect me. You always protect me.”

There it was. It wasn’t just having the big football star on your arm to show off to everyone; it was having someone you felt safe with. Someone who wouldn’t mock you. Someone who understood. And Roy was always determined to be that person.

“Fine. I’ll fucking do it.”

His cheek burned like fire where you kissed him in gratitude. “Thanks a million Roy! This is why you’re my favorite fella.

Favorite fella. You’d called him that for years. Your mother was the first person to say it after seeing the way you toddled after him all the time once you’d learned to walk. Through the boyfriends you had, through the models he dated, you assured him time and time again that he’d always be your favorite fella.

Roy ignored the warmth in his chest and sipped his beer. “Doesn’t it feel a bit like you’re stealing your sister’s thunder? Bringing a professional footballer as your date?” he mused, anxious to move the conversation along and distract himself from how fucking pretty you looked.

The shrug you gave held a coldness he didn’t know someone as kind as you could muster. “Well, she did steal my boyfriend.”

The smirk that Roy gave made your heart flutter, reminding you of all the pining you’d done for him over the years. “Fair enough.” He looked thoughtful. “You don’t have to answer but… did he… and she…?” He nodded emphatically, not sure how to finish that sentence.

Another shrug. “Who fucking knows? I don’t need to know. They didn’t have the decency to tell me they’d started shagging, that’s all I need to know.”

Roy’s heart was sad to see the hurt in your eyes. He quickly changed his tone. “Can’t believe my sister isn’t invited. Figured you’d wrangle her into keeping you company all weekend.”

You snorted, one of Roy’s favorite sounds. “Oh, she was,” you corrected him. “She’s protesting because she hates Jim and my sister.” You raised your bottle to Roy appreciatively. “Yet another reason to invite you- I need at least one Kent there. And Phoebe couldn’t do shots with me or carry me back to our room when I’m sloshed.”

That was a job Roy wouldn’t mind doing. “Bit surprised I didn’t get an invite. Only known Lauren since she was fucking born.”

“Oh, there was no way you were getting invited. Jim hates you.” Your tone was so matter of fact it took Roy off guard.

“Excuse me?” Roy’d had no idea the disdain was mutual.

You nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, when we were dating, he did not like me hanging out with a dishy footballer. Hates your guts.” Your face lit up playfully. “Yet another reason you’re the perfect wedding date.”

Another smirk crossed his bearded face. “Dishy? Is that his word or yours?”

With a laugh, you shoved him, slipping into that familiar old comfort, the one that made you forget he was Roy Kent. “Don’t go getting a big head, otherwise you won’t fit in the car.”

Two weeks later, Roy felt his grip on the steering wheel tighten as he pulled into the drive of the estate the two of you would be spending the weekend at. Of course Jim’s family had gone all out for the wedding. Wanker.

Your leg shook almost violently as your eyes darted around. Instinctively, Roy reached out and took your hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Three days,” he reminded you. “That’s all we’ve gotta get through. Rehearsal dinner tomorrow, wedding Saturday, stupid brunch on Sunday.”

Looking down at your intertwined fingers, you nodded. “Maybe we can skip brunch?” you joked.

Deciding he should start playing the doting boyfriend now, he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand. “We can abso-fucking-lutely skip brunch.”

And you knew he meant it. Roy always meant it. It was one of the million things that made him your absolute life-long unattainable crush that you thrust into the back of your mind. You always felt like a dumb little kid around him, as if you never quite outgrew the childhood you’d shared, but part of you hoped this weekend together would maybe help him see you in a different light. Besides, Roy’s sister was right when she suggested that Roy would really get under Jim’s skin.

As if summoned, Jim came bounding out of the house, waving at the familiar sight of your car. You felt your breath catch as you gazed at him. Jim. Your Jim. At least, what used to be your Jim.

You got out of the car and waved back. “Hey there!” you called, as if you hadn’t spent the last nine months avoiding him at every family gathering he and Lauren attended.

His smile faded when Roy got out of the car, wearing that signature scowl of his. “Roy!” Jim shouted, quickly recovering. “Didn’t know you were coming.” Now in front of you, he leaned closer. “Thought you were bringing that mystery boyfriend of yours,” he whispered, ignoring the fact that Roy could hear him.

Alright. Here we go. Time to sell it.

“I did,” you chirped brightly. You waved Roy over and wrapped an arm around his waist, while he placed a hand on your shoulder. “Surprise!”

For all the years you’d spent with Jim, you’d never seen him so red in the face. “Oh! Wow! That’s great!”

Roy smiled, a smug grin that felt so fucking good on his face. “It is great, isn’t it? Me and this one, finally getting together.”

Jim cleared his throat, squirming like a worm. “Right. Well, when did this-”

“Sister!”

Lauren came sprinting out of the house, squealing as if you were her favorite person in the world. She wrapped you in a hug and planted multiple kisses on your cheek. When she pulled back, she finally noticed Roy.

“Oh. Roy. What’re you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, Lauren,” he muttered through his teeth.

Your sister turned to you. “What happened to mystery boyfriend? I was so looking forward to meeting him,” she pouted.

You laid a hand on Roy’s stomach, pulling him close, pretending as if you did this all the time and not just in your dreams. “Well, I’m not sure introductions are necessary, considering you’ve known him forever,” you joked, hoping your tone was light.

Lauren looked as if she was doing a difficult maths problem. “I’m sorry, Roy? Your mystery boyfriend is Roy? As in, known him our whole lives, football phenomenon, used to chase you around the backyard with spiders Roy? That Roy?” Her eyes darted to Jim, who looked just as confused. “Are you joking?”

“Absolutely not,” you lied. “You said I could bring a date. I told you I’d bring my boyfriend.” You nodded towards Roy. “There he is. Is there problem or can we grab our things?”

That superior smile your youngest sister often wore appeared. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” She judged Jim. “Love, could you send someone to grab their things?”

Roy rolled his eyes with one of his familiar groans. “Just tell me where the fucking room is. I can carry my own shit.” After a quick look from you, he cleared his throat. “Sorry, just a bit tired from the drive. And, if we’re being candid, kind of want to get this one alone for a bit before dinner, you know?” A kiss landed on the top of your head, painting your face a deep red.

The bride and groom both gawked at you, as if waiting for one of you to shout that you were kidding, that you were pathetically alone and that Roy was leaving. When neither of you did, Lauren cleared her throat. “Right. Um, when you go inside the housekeeper can show you where to go.” She turned to Jim. “We should go, er, check on that thing, right darling?”

Jim nodded, his eyes on you. “Right, right.” He offered a small wave. “We’ll see you later then.”

As soon as they were out of sight, Roy looked down at you, eyebrow quirked. “Well. This’ll be a fun weekend, hmm?”

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