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hopefulromances · 8 months

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I Still Get Jealous - Jamie Tartt

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Jealousy, some heated activities

Jamie showed up to the club as soon as he could. He told you that he’d be late because of the press conference but that he'd get there as soon as he could. When he showed up, the crowd was pulsing with the music, the lights in the club a dark red color, seemingly swaying with the movement of the crowd. He pressed through the crowd looking for you in the throng.

He spotted you then, just as the song was changing. You were in a ring of friends, all there to celebrate your birthday. Work friends, some of the team, Keeley, everyone there for you. And you looked spectacular. You were wearing that dress you loved, the one you’d picked out ages ago and shown him and your smile was dazzling.

Then his eyes followed who you were smiling at. It was some man he didn’t recognize, probably someone from your office, but the look on his face was less than friendly. Right in front of Jamie’s eyes, the man looked up and down your body as you danced with friends.

Finally, your eyes found Jamie and you lit up.

“Jamie!” you called out, breaking away from your group.

He smiled at you, hooking his arm around your waist and tugging you towards him.

“Hello, darling,” he greeted before pressing his lips against yours. He kissed you harder than he normally would in public, but knowing that man was over there watching you kiss him was egging him on. You made a noise of surprise and brought your hands up to his neck.

“Mm, what was that for?” You murmured against his lips, as you pulled away.

“Happy Birthday, love,” Jamie replied, kissing you again. “You look…” he shook his head as he looked down your body. “Fucking mint.” You blushed under his praise, ducking your head down to avoid giving him the satisfaction, but he brought his finger up to pull your eyes back to him. “My gorgeous girl.”

You shook your head, not being able to help the smile on your face. “Fuck off. Come meet my friends.”

You grabbed his hand and started pulling him through the crowd. You introduced him to some of the people in your circle dancing. Molly, April, Rina, David, and a lot of other names that went right over Jamie’s head. But they were all excited to meet the famous footballer, and he was happy to answer questions, take photos, and do anything to allow his girl to shine.

“And this is Kevin,” she pulled him over to someone new. Jamie looked over and saw it was the man who’d been eyefucking her when he walked into the room. “Kevin, this is Jamie, my boyfriend.”

“How’s it going, Kevin?” Jamie put out his hand. He could be cordial.

Kevin’s eyebrows raised. “Jamie Tartt? Look, (Y/N), when you said you were dating a footballer I thought you meant Sunday church league not… star striker for AFC Richmond.”

“Well, he’s just Jamie to me,” you thrilled, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into him.

Jamie pulled you closer to him, turning to Kevin. “So, you two work together?”

“Kevin sits across from me,” you told Jamie. “Isn’t that right, Kevin?”

Kevin hadn’t taken his eyes off of Jamie. “Sorry, I just can’t believe you’re dating Jamie fucking Tartt! I mean how did you two meet?”

Jamie felt you shift against him, clearly uncomfortable with the line of questioning.

“Um, well, my cousin, Colin, is on the team and…”

“Wait, as in Colin Hughes?” Kevin interrupted. Jamie huffed, puffing out his chest slightly.

You pinched Jamie’s waist, silently getting him to calm down. “Yep. My dads side is welsh. But mums from London. Anyways, Colin introduced us at some gala or something and we hit it right off.”

“That’s mental, Jamie, mate, you gotta get me tickets to a game,” Kevin jeered, giving Jamie a friendly shoulder punch. But Jamie did not find it friendly. He found Kevin incredibly grating and condescending.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered shortly. “(Y/N), why don’t we go for a dance?”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, leading you away from Kevin and onto the dance floor. You pulled on Jamie’s hand, bringing him to a stop.

“Can you behave, please?” you whined, pulling him back to you.

“You want me to behave?” Jamie growled, winding his arms around your waist. “Kevin’s a dick you know that?” He started swaying the two of you to the beat.

You brought your hands up to his chest, smoothing out the dress shirt he was wearing. “He’s not that bad. Just excited to meet you.”

Jamie looked over your head to see Kevin was still looking over at you. Jamie’s arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He felt your hands on his jaw as you pulled him to look down at you.

“Jamie?”

“Hm?”

“Are you jealous?”

Jamie quirked an eyebrow up, smirking. “And why shouldn’t I be?”

He spun you around and brought you so your back was flush with his chest. You gasped, letting your head fall back against his shoulder as his hands slid down the front of your body. He continued moving the two of you to the beat of the music as his lips came down to your ear.

“You see Kevin over there?” He kissed the back of your neck, relishing the shudder it drew from you. “He’s been staring at you all night. Cause you look so fucking sexy.” His lips moved over your skin. “So fucking beautiful.” Another kiss to your neck “And everyone in this room wants a taste of you.” He watched your eyes flutter close as he continued to kiss and nip on the skin behind your ear. “That’s why I’m jealous.”

Your eyes shot open when you realized what he was doing. “Did you just give me a hickey?” You brought a hand up to where he’d been sucking on your skin and felt the welt growing under your fingers. “Jamie!”

He snickered, kissing the mark, happy with his work. “Gotta make sure everyone here knows you’re taken, love.”

“You are unbelievable, what are we teenagers?”

He looked over and saw that Kevin had looked away, he couldn’t help but feel victorious as he guided you back to facing him.

“You’re really jealous, aren’t you?” you giggled, kissing his cheek. Now it was Jamie’s turn to duck away but you grabbed his jaw and pulled him back to you. “Baby.”

You knew Jamie too well to know that his preening was his insecurity shining through. As much as you loved when his strong arms kept you tight and safe against his firm chest, you knew that he just wanted to know you weren’t going to leave him.

“Corse I’m jealous,” Jaime mumbled, resting cheek against your temple. “I know that you could do better than me.”

You let out a deep sigh. How was this man, that you held so much love for, unable to see that there was no way that you could leave him. There was no one better for you than him. You wrapped your hands up so they tangled in his hair, holding his head against you as comb through his locks.

“Jamie, you know that’s not true,” you reassured him, pressing kisses to his face. “I could never leave you.”

“Kevin showed up on time,” Jamie pointed out. You could feel his pout against your cheek and you chuckled.

“Kevin is an ass,” you reminded him. He chuckled, pulling back from you so he could look at you clearly.

He looked around the club - the club both of you seemed to have forgotten you were in. He grabbed your hands and pulled them up to his lips.

“Let’s get you a drink, love.” He started pulling you towards the bar.

You nodded and started to follow him. “Wait, one more thing.”

You yanked him back to you, kissing him firmly. He caught you easily, his hands struggled for a moment to find their placement but he brought one hand sliding between your shoulder blades up to your neck and the other wrapping around your waist to hold you against him. You quickly lost control of the kiss, only able to circle his shoulders, as his hands continued to move around your body. He moved his head back and forth, kissing you firmly and passionately. Finally he pulled back and rested his head on your forehead, noses touching, before coming down one more time for a softer kiss. When he pulled back, you were staring, a little dazed as you smiled.

“What was that one for, love?” He asked, picking a stray hair off your face.

“Hm?”

“That kiss?”

“Oh! Molly was looking at you for a little too long,” you explained, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Alright! Okay!” Jamie rolled his eyes, grabbing your hands again. “Now who’s jealous?”

Just imagine this for that last kiss:

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #ted lasso #ted lasso show

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alwritey-aphrodite · 9 months

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Take the Moment

Chapter Two of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: guys seriously there’s more Jamie coming up I swear

The dressing room was a thriving ecosystem. It was always buzzing with energy and conversations, about weekend plans and workout routines and families and fears and new purchases. By the end of the second week, you knew who kept the best snacks in their locker, who had emergency toiletries, and who’s locker seemed void of anything remarkable, whether it was driven by fear or lack of desire you weren’t sure.

Walking into the dressing room was like passing through a wall of noise, like being enveloped in the warmth of your teammates. Stepping inside the dressing room was like coming inside after spending all day out in the cold, like nothing bad could ever happen to you.

Despite how early it was, despite the fact that you still felt half-asleep, your teammates were chattering away, loud enough for you to be able to hear bits and pieces of what everyone was saying.

“It was the grossest thing I’ve ever experienced,” you can hear someone saying, causing whoever was next to them to erupt into giggles. You couldn’t help but to smile to yourself, the love you have for your teammates doing wonders to relieve the built-up stress from the press conference last night. You’d gone home and replayed every moment over and over again, tormenting yourself until your brain couldn’t take it and you finally fell asleep.

Practice was the perfect remedy to your stress, giving you something else you needed to focus on completely so you couldn’t worry about anything else. That had always been one of your favorite aspects of the sport, the fact that while you were playing you weren’t able to think about anything but the game was what had made you stick with soccer out of all the activities you did as a young kid.

Now, though, because you were a professional there was an added layer of stress to every practice, every extra second you spent training. Still, a long day of training was the perfect thing to make you forget all about the disastrous press conference. After the rest of your team had gone home to rest before your first match, you stayed behind to work on your stamina on a treadmill as the men’s team took the field.

Sometimes you worried you were working yourself into the ground, but there was a part of your brain that wouldn’t stop pushing you to do more work, to push yourself even farther so you could prove yourself to everyone who had ever doubted you. Even though your muscles were screaming and you could feel your ankle start to swell and pulse, you increased the speed and the incline on the treadmill, telling yourself that you’d go home when the men’s team ended practice.

By the time they’re finished and you finally allow yourself to clean up and go home, you’re dripping in sweat and you were a little worried you wouldn’t be able to walk. You knew some of the girls were getting together to hype themselves up before your first match, but your evening would be spent recovering, alternating between an ice bath and heating pads in the hopes that you’d be in top shape for your first match and your debut as captain.

As you’re leaving the dressing room, dreaming about a large dinner and elevating your foot, you find Jamie waiting for you, leaning against the wall across from the door to the dressing room.

“Hey, Jamie,” you greet him with a wave and a quick smile before you’re continuing on your way, only able to think about how wonderful it’ll feel to finally lay down.

“Oh, hey,” he responds, and you miss the way he fumbles to put his phone in his pocket and catch up with you, walking in step as you exit the building. “I was just thinking how you haven’t been in Richmond long, and you’ve been so busy here with practice and all and maybe I could show you around, if you wanted?”

He’s cute, in an awkward, fumbling kind of way. Never in a million years would you have thought to describe Jamie Tartt as awkward, fumbling, or cute, but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. You wonder just how much he’s changed in the past few years, because the Jamie standing before you, fiddling with his hands, is not the Jamie you remember seeing in pictures and articles and in reality television shows.

“That’s really sweet, Jamie,” and you can see how he tries to hide a smile and it makes your heart melt a little, though you’d never admit that to anyone, “but I have plans with my bed and an ice bath tonight.”

“Oh, shit, you guys have a game tomorrow,” he looks beyond embarrassed that he hadn’t remembered or that no one had told him, “well, have fun with your ice bath.”

He turns to go, and your heart breaks the way it would seeing a puppy dumped on the side of the road, so you can’t help but shout out after him, “Maybe another time?” and you’re rewarded with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and your chest feels warm in a way that makes you concerned for your health.

Spending your evening alone, soaking in an ice bath and eating dinner by yourself, was as exciting as it sounded. Even though it was a little boring, it was the perfect way to get you in the headspace you needed to be in for your very first match for Richmond. By the time you crawled into bed, your belly was full, your muscles felt as relaxed as possible, and you fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.

The only interesting part of your night was the dream you had where you’d thought you were getting married to Mackie and you made it all the way down the aisle before you realized you were actually marrying Jamie.

It rattled you, probably more than it should have, but you tried your best to just brush it off and go about your pre-match routine. Nerves always made it difficult for you to eat, so you settle for a light breakfast and pack plenty of snacks into your bag. Mackie comes to pick you up the way she always does, and you decide not to tell her about your dream, knowing she’d tease you relentlessly and that was the last thing you needed before a match.

Your morning only got weirder when you and Mackie entered the dressing room and it was practically silent, all of the girls huddled around something in the middle of the room. Pushing yourself into the center of the group, you noticed Elena holding a newspaper, a bold Richmond’s Women’s Team on the cover with Trent Crimm’s name on the by-line.

…a fierce group of players…

… champions in the making…

… led by a determined, slightly dangerous captain…

… all they need is belief.

It was impossible not to feel like you’re walking on air after reading that article, especially with the way Trent had picked you out of the group to mention you by name. That article was the perfect little boost you needed to head into your first match after how incredibly strange your morning was, wiping all thoughts of your weird dream away from your mind.

Walking out onto the pitch, you’re determined you can beat West Ham.

By half-time, you’re down 1-0, and you can feel the bleakness radiating off everyone in the dressing room. Roy’s trying to make an inspirational speech, trying to get you guys ready to go for the second half, but he’s floundering and everyone can tell he’s uncomfortable. As much as he believes in the team, he’s not known for being gentle with his support.

“Can I…” you ask, starting to stand from where you’d slumped yourself onto the bench by your locker. Roy nods, looking beyond relieved, so you make your way to the front of the room and take a deep breath. Despite your hatred for public speaking, you know this is something you need to do, not for yourself but for your team.

“We’re losing,” you start, and you can tell by everyone’s expressions that this isn’t what they want to hear so you go on, “we gave up an easy goal in the last five minutes, and I know we can do better. I know we can fucking win this, if we beat the boys, we can beat fucking West Ham.”

The energy’s starting to increase, you can see some of your teammates start to smile for the first time since you stepped foot onto the pitch at the beginning of the match, but you’re not done yet.

“Amelia, I’m only saying this because I love you and I think you’re amazing, but you’re playing like shit. I’m saying this because I know you can do better, I’ve seen you do better.”

You hate the way her face falls, looking like she’s hoping the floor opens up and swallows her but you need to say this, need her to believe in herself the way you believe in her, so you keep talking despite the pit in your chest.

“And I know this is your first professional match ever and that this shit is scary,” you go on, “but none of us expect perfection. We just want you to leave it all on the pitch and be the monster we know you can be.”

Despite her look of despair when you’d called her out, she’s smiling at you now and you can’t help but to smile back at her. “I believe in you, Baby,” you finish, and just mentioning her nickname seemed to make everyone perk up even more, reminding them of how great of a team you make.

“Let’s go out there and win this fucking thing,” Roy adds, and the team screams like you’re heading into battle as you head back onto the pitch to finish out the match. As you pass, you give Amelia’s shoulder a squeeze just so she knows everything you said came from a place of love and deep respect for her. The energy heading back onto the pitch is ten times more intense than when you’d headed out for the first half, and you’re more than confident in your team.

After the match, heading back to the dressing room was a goddamn party.

You’d won 2-1, with Elena scoring a goal in extra time to secure your first win by the skin of your teeth. Back in the dressing room, there’s champagne and laughter and Keeley and Rebecca screaming their faces off. You all join in, jumping up and down as if your joy is too strong to be contained inside your body. You feel sore all over and you know you'll have plenty of new bruises tomorrow, but all of that is overshadowed by how giddy, how light you feel.

You’re on the top of the world and there’s nothing that could bring you down.

The celebration is starting to get a little too rambunctious when there’s a knock on the door, revealing the entire men’s team. They’re wearing Richmond merch, but it’s your merch, shirts and hats and kits and scarves they’ve bought to support you at your first match. Really, you’re surprised you’re not sobbing with how emotional you feel, leaving the pitch to the roaring of the fans and seeing everyone as excited for your win as you are.

The boys file in, most of them heading for the alcohol while a few go find certain players, like the way Colin makes a beeline for Mackie. Jamie, though, heads straight for you and it makes you feel floaty, lightheaded in a way you weren’t before so you just chalk it up to the alcohol that’s now coursing through your veins.

When you notice your last name plastered on the back of Jamie’s kit, you can’t help the flood of laughter that bursts out of you. Seeing your reaction, a smile blooms on Jamie's face and his cheeks look a little redder than before, but you assume it’s due to the heat of the dressing room and the champagne, ignoring the fact that Jamie hasn’t drunk any.

“You just can’t let go of the number nine, can you?” You tease, grinning back at him as he shrugs with a shy sort of smile that seems so out of place with his typically confident personality. Your little moment is cut short, though, as Sam comes over to you with a beaming smile.

“You were fantastic, truly,” he says, already knowing you were going to try and downplay your skills, “I wasn’t even on the pitch and I was a little scared of you.” You laugh, unable to contain yourself in the way you’d normally try to because it really did feel amazing starting the season on a high note, starting the team on a win.

“Ah, I interrupted something,” Sam says with a knowing smile as his eyes dart between you and Jamie, “I’ll go congratulate the rest of the team.” He sends you a wink before he disappears off into the chaos of the celebration and you’re left reeling. You turn to Jamie to make a comment about how strange that was only to find him staring intently at his shoes.

So, it was back to being the strangest day of your life.

“Maybe, if you’re free tomorrow, I can take you up on your offer to show me around Richmond?” You ask, trying to break the awkwardness that had settled over your little corner of the room.

“Yeah? Perfect. Great. Cool,” Jamie says, and before you can say anything else Mackie and Elena are coming over to drag you to the middle of the party, and as much as you’d like to keep talking with Jamie, it feels good to be celebrated.

Hopefully it’s a feeling you get used to at Richmond.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @buckychristwrites @benedictscanvas @whimsical-roasting @sokkigarden @scaramou @guccilongboard @onceuponaoneshot @presidential-facts @yepyeahuhhuh @loveslide @allthefandomtherapy @gibby31 @buddyjuststop @ellietartt @cancvr @rae4725 @brianandthemays @sonyume @aiyaiy @captainfrisbee @dalebo3 @theloud-yet-quietone @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @rockchickrebel @legobatmans9thab @curlypeter @lostinwonderland314 @yokolesbianism @jamietarttdodo @kno-way-home @nicklet94 @fan-goddess @innocentbi-stander

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction

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vintageshanny · 6 months

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Seeing Red

I haven’t been able to get this suit off my mind, so I had to write this one-shot about it. Even though I’m the one that brought it up, I blame these lovely ladies for fueling my fantasies. 😆 @lookingforrainbows @whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @missmaywemeetagain @powerofelvis @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @from-memphis-with-love

Content: Backstage hanky-panky, 18+

Tia felt like she might pass out. Even in just a skimpy sundress, it felt so hot in the arena. Or maybe it was the man on stage making her feel hot. And lightheaded. In her 21 years of life, she had never experienced this sensation just from looking at a man. She bit down on her lower lip, forcing herself to stay focused, not wanting to miss a millisecond of this experience. She couldn’t believe her good fortune to win front-row tickets and a backstage pass to meet thee Elvis Presley from the local Richmond radio station.

His performance was so dynamic, she couldn’t tear her eyes away for a second. His playful banter with the audience felt like a private conversation just for her. She tried to sing along to the songs, but it was like her brain was short-circuiting as she watched him lay down on the floor of the stage. He crossed one ankle over his opposite knee and rocked his hips gently in time with the music. Tia could hear the gentle clanking of his gold belt against the stage as he continued singing “Polk Salad Annie,” his long fingers playing with the microphone cord.

Suddenly all the moisture in Tia’s mouth had disappeared as she stared at him, slack-jawed. From her perch in the front row, she could see the way his tight red jumpsuit molded completely to every part of his body. She’d never wanted to reach out and grab a man’s butt this badly, but he was just asking for it, with the way his perfectly sculpted glutes rolled back and forth on the stage as he finished the song and started joking around about being crushed under one of the ceiling fixtures. Elvis turned his head and locked eyes with Tia right as she was staring at his butt and licking her lips like a wild animal locked in on its prey. His voice broke just the slightest bit as he laughed and turned his gaze back toward the ceiling. Before climbing up off the floor, though, he turned back to Tia and gave a little wink. Tia gasped, feeling a throbbing in between her legs. All she could think the rest of the show was, “Elvis winked at me!”

After the finale of “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” Tia made her way backstage, clutching her pass tightly in her hand. She nervously looked around, hoping to find Elvis before he was mobbed by other fans and his entourage. Too late. There were several girls smushed up close to him already. She sighed and hung back, too nervous to insert herself into the conversation, but unable to stop looking him up and down. She grabbed a bottle of Coke from a table of refreshments and turned back to ogle him some more. He was still in the bright red jumpsuit, and now that she was so close to him, she could see that it was soaked with sweat. That pulsing feeling came back as she clenched her thighs together, trying to stay calm. As she dragged her eyes up from his muscular thighs and a not insignificant bulge, she saw that he had caught her staring again. His full pouty lips pulled up on one side as he left the harem and made his way over to Tia.

“Ya here by yourself, darlin’?” he asked, his honey-coated accent making her heart skip a beat. “Well, I won two tickets and my best friend was supposed to join me, but she got sick at the last minute. It was an amazing show, but I was nervous to come alone,” Tia rambled on in a strange stream of consciousness that she couldn’t seem to stop. Elvis smirked with a twinkle in his eye. “Yeah, it’s always better to come with someone else.” Tia felt her face heat up at his obvious innuendo and lowered her gaze. “Sweetheart, if you’re gonna keep starin’ like that, ya could’ve at least come over right away ta say hi,” he teased as he grabbed the Coke from her hand and took a big swig before handing it back to her with a grin. Tia blushed and looked down at where his lips had just been on her bottle. “I’m sorry, Mr. Presley, I was nervous to interrupt your conversation,” she said, running her hand through her thick curly hair, her voice barely above a whisper. Elvis looked at her with a tenderness that caught her off guard and leaned in close to her ear. “Honey, jus’ call me Elvis. And I know a place we can sneak off and talk, jus’ the two of us.” Tia looked up in surprise but nodded. She was nervous, but not about to pass up an opportunity to talk privately with the sexiest man she’d ever seen.

With a glance around to make sure no one was following, Elvis grabbed her hand and pulled her quickly around the corner and into his temporary dressing room. He closed the door behind them and turned to smile at Tia again, his nose and eyes crinkling the slightest bit in a way that made her heart flutter. “Now that we’re alone,” Elvis said in a soft, low voice, “can I stare at you the way you’ve been starin’ at me?” His eyes wandered over her entire body, and although Tia felt herself flush under the scrutiny, his gaze held nothing but admiration. As he looked back into her deep brown eyes, he made an exaggerated motion of licking his lips. Tia finally loosened up, giggling and swatting at him playfully. “I did not do that when I looked at you!” she exclaimed. “Baby, ya can’t lie to me. I saw ya from the stage,” Elvis teased back. “Like a horny wolf on the prowl,” he laughed. Tia smiled but her breath caught in her throat as Elvis lifted a hand to her neck and gently traced his fingers over her caramel-colored skin. She couldn’t stop the involuntary shiver that ran through her body.

“Ya okay?” Elvis whispered as he gently pushed the strap of her dress over her shoulder, leaning in and pressing a soft warm kiss to her upper chest. Tia nodded and ran her fingers through his still-sweaty hair, eliciting a small moan from him as she gently scratched his scalp. He pushed his face down further into her cleavage, and she could feel his warm wet tongue dragging across her skin. “Let’s get more comfortable,” he whispered as he grabbed the hem of her sundress and pulled it up over her head, leaving her in just her simple cotton bra and panties. “I’m sorry,” Tia whispered with a hint of embarrassment. “I would have worn something sexier if I would have known…” “Naw, baby, ya look perfect jus’ like this,” Elvis said with a soft smile.

Tia blushed as she reached to help him get undressed. She unfastened his gold belt, which came off pretty easily but almost clanged to the floor with its weight. “Woah,” she said in surprise. “This is pretty heavy. Doesn’t this hurt to wear?” Elvis smiled at her sweet concern and said, “I’m pretty strong, honey, I can handle it.” Tia moved her hands to help him out of his jumpsuit and then paused. “Whatsa matter, baby?” he asked, studying her face. “Um, before we take this off, can I do something?” Tia whispered shyly. “Sure, doll, what is it?” Tia’s face turned red as she wrapped her arms around his torso. “When I was staring at you on the stage,” she said softly, “it’s because your butt looks so good in this suit.” Her hands wandered down and cupped his ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Elvis’ face turned as red as the jumpsuit, but he let out a big laugh. “I just needed to feel it,” she explained as she buried her head in his sweaty chest and then pulled back to help him out of the suit.

It was so tight and sweaty that Tia had to basically peel it off of his body. She took the opportunity to press kisses to his salty skin as she moved down his torso. When he was standing there in just his white briefs, she could see that he was trembling the slightest bit. He pulled her in close and kissed her tenderly, slipping his tongue softly into her mouth as he reached around and unhooked her bra. Her nipples hardened instantly in the cool air, and Elvis leaned down to lavish each one with the attention of his warm wet mouth. When he straightened up, she could see how much it aroused him to make her feel good. His briefs could barely contain the erection he now had. She gently pulled at his waistband and reached her hand inside. He jerked forward slightly as she carefully massaged his heavy balls and then moved her hand up to stroke his length, rolling the foreskin back and forth.

As Elvis stood there with his eyes closed, softly moaning, she pulled his briefs down to his ankles so she could get a full view of him. She sucked in her breath a little bit at the sight of him standing before her fully exposed. “Wh-wh-what is it?” he asked, and Tia smiled at his sweet nervous stutter. “I’ve just never seen such a beautiful sight,” she said as she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the warm tip of his cock, tasting the salty precum. Elvis smiled at that and guided her toward the couch. Instead of removing her panties, he laid his body on top of hers, humping against her passionately, his bare cock rubbing her clit right through the fabric with each stroke. Tia couldn’t believe how good he could make her feel without even entering inside her. As he continued kissing her and gently rolling one of her nipples between his fingertips, her orgasm caught her completely off guard. She tried to call his name but it stuck in the back of her throat as her legs squeezed around him. Elvis’ body shook as he thrust against her and then pulled back quickly, using his hand to finish himself off on her stomach as she watched in amazement.

“Wow,” Tia whispered as her heart tried to find its normal rhythm again. “That was…something.” Elvis looked at her as he grabbed an extra scarf to wipe off her stomach. “Disappointed?” he asked, only half-joking. “I-I-I know ya probably were expectin’ somethin’ more, but I w-w-wanted to show ya what I enjoy,” he explained nervously. “If it wasn’t enough for ya, ‘m sorry,” he rambled on, and Tia grabbed his hand. “Disappointed?” she asked in surprise. “No, Elvis, I was amazed. That you could make me feel that good just from, I mean without even, well, feel for yourself,” she stumbled over her explanation, moving his hand to the center of her panties, which were soaked with her own sticky cum. Elvis looked a little bit surprised and she added, “I think you underestimate your power to satisfy.”

After they got dressed and Elvis wrapped her in a warm affectionate hug, Tia looked up into his face and said, “Plus, you made me feel good tonight in a way that goes way beyond something sexual. I will remember the magic of this night for the rest of my life.” As Elvis looked down at her, she knew his sweet, sincere, lop-sided grin would be seared into her brain forever.

#elvis #elvis on tour #Elvis x oc #Elvis fan fic #elvis fan fiction #i love this man

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willalove75 · 1 year

Note

Rebecca/female reader - accidental stimulation first time. They fall or play fight and get turned on

This is a fun one! Thanks so much for the request!! 💕

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI

*phone dings* Text from Keeley:

"RICHMOND WON! MEET US AT THE CLUB WE'RE GOING OUT!!"

You get ready and head out, Keeley meets you outside of the club and brings you in through the VIP entrance. The music is so loud you can feel the base under your feet and in your chest. The whole team is there, including the coaches, the kitman, Higgins and Rebecca.

"Do you want a drink?!" Keeley shouts over the music.

"Yes please!!" You shout back.

You head to the bar and order a drink. You take a seat and wait, Keeley runs off to Roy and a few others and points over to you and they wave, you wave back and wait for your drink. Out of the corner of your eye you see someone shift and you look over and see Rebecca, and damn she looks good. She gives you a seductive look and you smile back at her.

The two of you have been flirting for a long time now, Keeley and Rebecca are basically best friends so you've never acted on it, but it's been fun secretly flirting every time you see each other.

You get your drink and head over to the group.

"Congratulations guys!" You shout.

"Come on! Dance with me!" Keeley says, grabbing you and pulling you to the tiny dance floor.

You and Keeley dance as you sip on your drink. You look over and see Rebecca sitting on one of the couches, her arms draped over the sides, looking straight at you. You decide to put on a little show for her and you sway your hips to the music as you dance with Keeley.

You finish your drink and grab another one and head back to the dance floor. You look back over and Rebecca is gone, you're a little disappointed but you quickly forget about your disappointment and have fun with your friend.

Two drinks down and you're onto your third, you're starting to feel a good buzz going so you slowly nurse your third drink as you dance and laugh with everyone. Every so often you and Rebecca would catch each others sight, she would give you one of her usual looks, and you sway your hips and slowly drop down.

You and Keeley sit down on the couches and take a rest and hang out with some of the other team members.

"Hold my drink, I have to pee!" You say to Keeley.

"Okay! Want me to come with you?" She asks.

"I'm good!"

You make your way towards the bathroom, waving to some team members and the coaches. You hear Danni call your name and you turn towards him, as you turn around, a very drunk Collin runs into you and you lose your balance. Just when you think you're going to fall flat onto the floor you feel strong arms around you. You look up and see Rebecca standing over you, you feel your heart skip a beat.

She looks down and gives you a sultry smile.

"Careful now." She says looking into your eyes.

You feel like someone flipped a switch on you, you feel pulses shoot down into your core when your hear her voice.

You see her eyes change from concerned to lust as she holds you in her arms. She helps you stand up straight but doesn't take her hands off of you.

"Sorry, uh, thank you." You say shyly.

"Don't get shy on me now." She says with a smirk. She leans in closer to your ear. "I saw you putting on a show for me earlier."

You feel your knees get weak as another pulse shoots down. Rebecca holds you tighter to keep you standing. You feel her breath on your neck and your heartbeat races, she can tell you're flustered and smiles at the satisfaction.

You take a small step back and she looks you up and down.

"Oh no, you've spilled something on your dress." She says, looking back at you.

You look down and see a stain on your leg, Collin must have spilled his drink on you when he bumped into you. You look back up at Rebecca who has a coy smile on her face.

"Come," she says grabbing your hand. "Let me help clean you up."

You go to speak but no words come out, she pulls you into the bathroom and locks the door behind you.

You lean up against the counter as Rebecca turns away to grab paper towels, you can't help but stare at her perfect ass and long legs. You feel another pulse shoot down and a dampness between your legs. She turns around and catches you staring, she raises an eyebrow at you but says nothing and runs the paper towel under the sink. You watch her as she squats down in front of you and slides her hand up your dress to pull it tight so she can dab it with the wet paper towels. Your knees begin to feel weak so you tightly hold onto the counter. You can see down the front of her dress and look up trying to avert your gaze. She looks up at you, noticing you're trying to look away and smiles.

"Don't tell me you're one of those that can flirt all day but when it comes down to it, you shy away?" She says, fixated on the stain.

You look down at her and your eyes meet hers.

"No, I just-" you studder. "I just never thought it would ever-"

Her long fingers caress your thigh and you shudder, completely forgetting what you were saying.

"What was that?" She asks.

You feel your arousal growing rapidly, unable to focus on anything else.

"I don't- nothing." You say, trying to keep your breath from shaking.

"Funny, I thought you were saying something." She says, teasing you.

She slides her hand around the inside of your thigh and slowly drags her nails back across.

You bite your lip and furrow your eyebrows, she does it once more and you let out a small moan.

"Good girl." She says.

You open your eyes and she looks into yours as she stands up, pressing her body against yours. She plays with the hem of your dress, gently pulling at it. All you want her to do is slide her fingers between your legs as your core throbs. She pulls your dress up and slides her finger across the front of your panties, a chill runs up your spine, desperate for her to satisfy you.

She pulls her hand away and holds your chin between her thumb and finger, pulling you close to her, your lips just barely brushing together. She looks into your eyes and pulls away, you let out a small whine as she denies you everything you're craving. She leans into your ear.

"So eager to be pleased I see."

You nod your head. She brings her hand back to the front of your panties and plays with the elastic, you gently rock your hips, she gently slides her finger between your legs and drags it up your slit.

You let out a moan that turns into another whine as she pulls away.

"Please," you say, desperate for her touch.

"What was that?" She asks.

"Please, Ms. Welton, please." You breathlessly beg.

Her eyes go dark and she wraps her hand around your head and pulls her lips into yours, your tongues immediately swirl around each others in a fiery passion. She pulls away and puts her lips to your ear.

"Say it again." She says, more demanding.

"Ms. Welton, please, I need you inside of me." You beg.

She growls with pleasure and pulls your lacey thong down. You spread your legs, leaning back on the counter and she rubs her fingers across your folds. She smiles as she feels you dripping, coating her fingers in your juices before sliding two fingers into you.

You let out a moan and throw your head back. She leans in and places a kiss on your neck, sliding her fingers in and out of you slowly, curling them each time she enters. You grind your hips against her hand and she grabs your hip with her other hand and holds them steady.

"Not yet." She whispers into your ear.

You groan as you lean your head into her, she brings her hand up from your hip and cradles the back of your head, her fingers grabbing onto your hair.

She picks up the pace and thrusts her hand harder, your legs begin to wobble and you grab tightly onto her. You moan louder, grateful that the music on the other side of the door is so loud so no one can hear you. She curls her fingers deep into your spot and you cry out.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me-" She sinks her teeth into your neck and you cry out in pain and pleasure. She gently licks the bite mark and tightens her grip on your head.

"I'm gonna make you what?" She whispers.

"You're gonna make me cum." You whimper.

"Yeah?"

You nod and whine as you clench harder around her fingers, your orgasm building rapidly.

"Cum for me baby." She grows into your ear.

That was all you needed, the sweet release floods through you as you scream out her name. She doesn't stop as you continue to cum onto her fingers, your nails digging into her skin, ecstasy taking over your body. She slows her pace and slides her fingers out of you, still holding onto her as your legs shake.

"Good girl." She says as she kisses your neck.

You rest your head on her shoulder and try to catch your breath.

"Oh my god." You pant.

She stokes your hair and kisses your neck as you gain your composure. You legs steady themselves and you loosen your grip on her. She brings her fingers to her lips and licks them clean and pulls you into a deep kiss. You can taste yourself on her lips as your tongue slides into her mouth. She turns the both of you so her back is to the counter, her lips move to your neck where she places kisses up it and nibbles on your ear.

"Now be a good girl and return the favor." She whispers.

"Yes ma'am." You say.

You pull up her dress and lower yourself to your knees, sliding your hands down her tiny waist, over her round hips and down to her thighs. She leans back on the counter and looks down at you, her eyes glowing. You spread her legs and gently rub her through her soaked panties. She lets out a small moan and you pull her undies down to her ankles. She grabs the back of your head and pulls you into her. Your tongue slides between her folds, licking her up and down. She tightens her grip on your hair and moans loudly.

"Yes, just like that." She says, draping one of her legs over your shoulder.

You drag your tongue up and down her slit, her juices dripping onto your chin. You lick up to her clit and flick your tongue back and fourth across it. Rebecca lets out another moan and you wrap your lips around it and suck. You feel a shock run through her as she cries out, her heel digging into your back. You lick and suck on her lips, you can feel her pussy throbbing every time you make contact with it. You go back and fourth with licking her pussy and sucking on her clit, and she grinds into your face. You grab her ass and pull her onto you more. You dart your tongue in and out of her dripping cunt and latch onto her clit again. She lets out a moan and you feel her legs begin to shake.

"Fuck, yes." She pants. "Make me cum." She pulls harder on your hair and you dig your nails into her.

You lick and suck her harder, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. You hear her moans go up an octave and feel her throbbing, you know she's close. You wrap your lips around her clit once more and flick your tongue over it as you suck on it and she cries out. Her hips grind into your face as her body shakes above you. She screams out a note you didn't think was possible to hit as you feel her explode in your mouth, her juices covering your face. You hold onto her clit for another second and gently lick up her pussy again, sending shockwaves up her body. Her shaking leg slides off of you as you start to stand, holding onto her hips, keeping her steady. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and she wraps her arm around you more, her other hand resting on your cheek. Her face rests against yours as she catches her breath.

"Good girl." She pants, stroking the back of your head.

You feel her heartrate return to normal as she holds you close. She turns your face towards hers and gently kisses you. She holds your face and you tighten your grip on her waist, her hand holding your hair at the back of your neck. You slowly part and she gazes into your eyes with satisfaction. She takes a step away and pulls her panties up and fixes her dress and you do the same. She walks up to you and swipes her thumb across your cheek, cleaning what's left of her off of you. She turns to unlock the door.

"Until next time." She says, looking over at you with a smirk.

"When will that be?" You ask, having more eagerness in your voice than expecting.

She pauses for a second and looks at you, a smile crosses her face and she pulls a pen from her bag and grabs a paper towel and scribbles onto it.

She leans into your ear when she hands it to you and whispers

"Whenever you want."

She pulls away and gives you a wink. She turns, unlocks the door and walks out, leaving you standing there with the paper towel in your hands. You look down and see an address and her phone number. You feel excitement in your belly and head back out, putting the piece of paper towel in your purse when you get back to it.

"What is that?" Keeley asks.

"Oh nothing," You say.

"What took you so long? I thought you fell in!"

"Oh," you laugh. "Collin bumped into me so I had to clean myself off a little."

You see Rebecca out of the corner of your eye and you look over, she sees you and gives you a wink as she walks out. The excitement builds again, hoping it won't be too long until you see Rebecca again. 'Maybe' you think to yourself. 'I'll just pay her a visit tonight.'

Keeley grabs you and pulls you back out to the dance floor, for the rest of the night Rebecca is on your mind, and you know that's exactly what she wanted.

#rebecca welton x reader #hannah waddingham #rebecca welton #rebecca welton fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #willalove75 #wlw fanfic

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 7 months

Text

Something There (Chapter 10)

5.1k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, one smutty scene because these two deserve it, lots of flirting, self-indulgent fluff (my chapter 10 tradition at this point!)

A/N: For the full effect, listen to Lavender Haze on repeat while reading because I listened to it almost non-stop while writing 💜

Series Masterlist

The tips of Roy’s fingers tingled as he waited for the door to open. For the last couple of hours, he was convinced he was living in a dream as he got ready for- fuck was it really happening?- their first date.

After their scorching kiss in the rain, Roy had promised to come back at seven to take her out on a real date. One that would involve dinner, drinks, and, hopefully, a return to Roy’s bedroom. He’d rushed home to get himself showered and ready, remembering how anxiously he’d looked at himself in the mirror the night of the gala, wondering about her. This time, however, Roy’s stomach was filled less with anxiety and more with butterflies.

When she opened the door, Roy made no attempt to stop his jaw from dropping. He’d jokingly asked her to wear the little black dress she’d worn at the club all those months ago; apparently, despite her fierce independent streak, she listened well. The dress hugged her curves even better than he’d remembered, she had that perfect model hair that he wanted to touch, and her lips were so red and so kissable. And tonight, Roy got to lean forward and kiss them.

“Hi,” he hummed as he pulled back, leaning in the doorframe casually; even with his heart hammering in his chest, he could at least appear cool.

Apparently it worked, because she gazed up at him with those wide eyes, just as unsure as he felt. “Hey yourself.” She tilted her face to his and stole another kiss, a slow, sweet kiss, one that Roy couldn’t help sighing into. “Ready to go?”

He grabbed her hand and tugged her through the door. “Been ready for a long time.”

The ride to the restaurant was short, filled with hand-holding and easy conversation about their teams. Roy parked in the back, explaining that he’d pulled a couple of strings to get them some privacy. With his hand on the small of her back, he led her through the backdoor, into the kitchen. A hostess was there waiting for them with a bright smile, as though she greeted football legends in the staff parking lot all the time.

“I feel like I’m in Goodfellas,” Buck laughed, gazing up at Roy as they scurried through the kitchen, too wrapped up in each other to notice the smiles of the kitchen staff.

“You ever read the book it's based on?” Roy asked with a grin as they were led out of the kitchen. “It’s fucking great.”

While the hostess led them to a secluded corner, Roy ducked his head, trying not to draw attention. Likewise, Buck nuzzled close to Roy’s chest, turning her smiling face away from the rest of the world. Her smile widened when they entered their little private dining room, with a table set for two and low lighting. He pulled out her chair for her, pressing a kiss to her soft hair before she sat. Her giggle assured him that everything was perfect.

For the first time, the two of them just… talked. They exchanged favorite books and movies. They told childhood stories, especially ones about football. She listened with interest, no pity on her face, when Roy quietly explained his youth in Sunderland. He smiled broadly while she recalled her excitement when she was called up to the US National Women’s Team.

With every word and moment of laughter shared, Roy Kent found himself falling further in love.

“Oi, are you the manager of the Richmond Whippets? The new women’s team?”

I smirked up at the man who slid up next to me at the bar, handsome and bearded and smiling. “Why yes, I am,” I hummed over the pulsing club music. “Say, aren’t you the Roy Kent?”

He nodded, lifting his beer. “I am.” His eyes travelled unabashedly down my figure. “How about I buy you a drink? Give you a proper Richmond welcome?”

“That would be nice.”

Roy quickly ordered my drink, his fingers brushing against mine when he handed it to me. “Welcome to Richmond.”

I bit back a snicker and pressed myself close to him. “Wow, you Greyhounds sure are friendly,” I teased, batting my eyelashes at him. “You treat every coach like this?”

He ducked down to purr in my ear. “Only the gorgeous ones.”

It took every ounce of self-control not to attach my lips to his right then and there. But doing so would ruin the game; Roy, in a shockingly adorable display of romance, had brought me to the club where we’d first spoken, claiming he wanted to ‘make up for being the world’s biggest wanker’ the night we met.

So now he stood, gazing down at me with what could only be described as total affection, his fingertips brushing at the small of my back. “You know, Keeley Jones gave us a little report on you,” he murmured, the sparkle in his eye telling me he was enjoying his little performance. “Olympic gold medalist, hmm?”

I rolled my eyes and tucked some hair behind my ear. “Yes,” I giggled. “World Cup champion as well,” I added, giving him my cockiest grin.

“Wow.” He raised his thick eyebrows, giving an exaggerated look of awe. “Fucking impressive. Your boyfriend must be fucking proud of you.”

I sipped my drink coyly. “No boyfriend,” I answered with a wink.

He leaned closer, his hand wandering further down my backside. “Well then. No one would be mad if I asked you for a dance then?”

Fuck, Roy’s little game was getting me hot.

Roy urged me towards the dance floor, sipping his beer as we walked. Deciding to fuel the flirtation, I turned my back to him, pressing my backside against him. The vibration from his soft groan tickled my back; I’d made the right choice. Sipping my drink, I began to move my hips, melting a little when Roy planted his hand firmly on my hip. It had been a while since I’d last danced with a guy like this, flirty and seductive; but with Roy it was so damn easy. When I gave a particularly wicked grind against him, his breath was on my ear.

“You’re fucking mean,” he growled.

I tilted my face back towards him. “Don’t play nice, remember?”

I could feel his smile against my bare shoulder. “I remember.”

Two songs. We lasted two whole songs of drinking and grinding and flirting. When I felt something hard against my backside, I glanced back at Roy, eyebrows raised.

“Are you inviting me over for a drink or what, Kent?”

Sam Cooke on the stereo. Glasses of Scotch on the coffee table. Roy Kent’s mouth on mine.

It felt familiar to me now, and I couldn’t get enough. He had one hand firmly in my hair while the other wandered up and down my bare thigh. Mine gripped his muscular arms, trying to pull him closer. As I trailed kisses down his jaw, leaving a path of red lipstick stains on his skin, he squirmed and let out a soft groan.

“D’you- d’you want me to drive you home?” His voice was soft and timid, as if he was dreading my answer.

I pulled back from where I’d been planting sloppy kisses on his neck and stood, taking his hand in mine. “Come on, Kent,” I hummed. “Let’s see if I remember where your bedroom is.”

My heels came off in the living room. Roy lost his shirt somewhere in the hallway. The zipper on my dress was halfway down by the time he opened his bedroom door. By the time we fell onto his bed, we were both down to just our underwear and a pair of smiles.

“How’d you manage to get more perfect than last time?” Roy breathed as his eyes followed his hand up my tummy. “Fucking gorgeous.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Kent,” I teased, running my fingers through his soft, curly hair. “Why d’you think I like running with you so much?” I pressed a kiss to his nose. “You without a shirt? Great view.”

He thanked me for my compliment with a deep kiss and a hand on my breast. I arched into his touch, hooking my leg behind his back and bucking my hips up into him. His other hand roamed down my body until reaching my panties; I mentally thanked myself for the recent impulse purchase of this sexy little lace pair. Roy thumbed at the material, groaning when he brushed against the wet spot that had probably begun to form back at the club.

“Can I take these off?” he murmured, grazing his nose against my cheek. “Pretty fucking please?”

Shit. I could probably come just from the tone of his voice, all sugary and affectionate. The only thing I could do was nod desperately as Roy removed the pesky material. His fingers immediately came to my entrance, rubbing gentle circles, smearing the slick that had already gathered.

Roy buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Fucking hell,” came his muffled moan.

“Roy,” I gasped, giving his hair a little tug. “I swear on my life, if you don’t take your fucking boxers off right now-”

He pulled his face away from my neck and gazed at me with a soft smile. “Fucking needy,” he teased, kissing my forehead. “I have been waiting for this since the gala,” he reminded me, his voice far too relaxed for someone who was inching his fingers into my cunt. “Let me enjoy you.”

So I did. I threw my head back with a soft groan, focusing on the sensation of Roy’s two fingers exploring me, pumping in and out with leisurely ease. He watched my face carefully, smirking every time I shuddered or gasped or did something to show I was enjoying myself. When he added his thumb to my clit, the sound of my lewd moan practically echoed throughout the house.

“Dammit, Buck,” he murmured, kissing my mouth. “You were holding back last time. I fucking love the way you sound.”

I opened my eyes and narrowed them playfully. “Don’t call me ‘Bucky’ in bed, remember?” I nipped at his jaw. “That’s only for the pitch, Roy.”

He laughed and followed my mouth, stealing another kiss as he continued his slow strokes. “What should I call you then? Babe? Gorgeous? Darling?”

The giggle that tumbled past my lips was girlish, almost unrecognizable to me. “Darling, huh? Shit, you sound so English saying that.”

“Forgot you Americans love the accent,” he teased. He brought his lips to my ear, sending shivers down my spine as he whispered, “Darling, I fancy you.”

“Fuck,” I laughed. “That should not turn me on that much.” I gripped his arms tightly, grinding harshly into his hand. “And yet…” I raised my eyebrows coyly. “Roy?”

“Yes, darling?”

I buried my groan against his face. “Are you going to fuck me, or what?”

His laughter filled the room and my heart. “See, this is what happens when two managers get together. Fucking bossy.” He nuzzled his nose against mine. “You’re lucky you’re beautiful.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Darling.”

“Well since I’m so damn bossy,” I huffed with a chuckle. My fingertips tingled as I reached down and began tugging down his boxers; a soft groan flew out of my mouth when I felt his leaking tip brush against my already sticky inner thigh.

Bringing his mouth back to mine, Roy slowly removed his fingers, swallowing my reflexive whine. He pulled his face away so he could watch me, his bearded face colored with affection, as he slowly inched into me. His lips curved into a smile when my hips lifted off the bed, my body begging him to thrust into me already.

“Fuck,” I whimpered as my eyes screwed shut.

How could anyone ever hate Roy Kent? How could I ever hate Roy Kent?

Roy Kent, with his fingers that dug into my skin and left a burning trail. Roy Kent, with his mouth that swallowed every moan and swear word that he elicited from my mouth. Roy Kent, with his cock that stretched and filled me as if our bodies were made for each other. Roy Kent, with his delicious growl that said my name like a prayer. Roy Kent, with those soft brown eyes that held the one word neither of us quite knew how to say: love.

The rolling of his hips was slow, intentional, languid, as though we had all the time in the world. The heat and urgency from last time was gone, replaced with affection and tenderness. Along with the utter pleasure between my legs, I felt safe, adored, cherished in Roy’s arms. I ran my hands down the warm skin of his back, my nails softly grazing his skin, hoping he felt the same affection from me.

“Want you so bad,” Roy huffed between thrusts, pressing his damp forehead to mine. “Wanted you- wanted you for a while.”

“You’ve got me,” I assured him. “You’ve fucking got me.”

He nodded, his beard scratching my face deliciously. “I- I really want you,” he repeated breathlessly. “Not just tonight. But… I want you.”

Most other guys, most other nights, this would be far too intimate- especially on a first date. But because it was Roy- and he had those eyes- and was kissing me with that mouth- and all we’d been through to get to this moment-

“Roy Kent,” I whispered, knowing this would be the last coherent sentence I’d be able to manage for a while. “I’m fucking yours.”

It was the happiest morning Roy had experienced in a long time. Maybe the happiest morning ever.

Bucky’s back was pressed against his chest. She was wearing one of his black shirts, her lipstick was completely fucked, her hair was a mess, her neck was covered in little red marks. And she was the most perfect thing Roy had ever seen. She stirred in her sleep, pressing closer to his body. When she mumbled sleepy nonsense, he swore he heard his name on her lips.

Careful not to wake her, Roy wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer. This was what the morning after the gala should have been, he thought to himself. Sleepy bliss as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smiling when he breathed in that now familiar scent of lavender and vanilla, his new favorite combination. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, just holding her, but he could see the early morning light begin to peek through the window just as she turned her head to glance at him.

Roy tightened his grip around her middle. “Don’t you fucking dare run away this time,” he joked. “I’m making a proper English breakfast for my favorite Yank.”

She shifted onto her back, stroking Roy’s cheek as she gazed up at him. “No running away,” she promised softly. “I’m afraid there’s no getting rid of me now, Roy Kent.”

“That a fucking promise?” Roy heaved himself on top of her, laughing as he gently squashed her. “So? How about some breakfast?”

“Sounds perfect.” She smacked a kiss to his cheek, which he tried to turn into a real kiss. She ducked away. “Nuh-uh, I’ve got morning breath.”

Roy laughed and followed her mouth. “Do I look like I fucking care?” With that, he stole a real kiss, loving the way she gave into him and even let her tongue brush against his lips. Before he could be tempted to escalate things further, Roy rolled out of bed and held out his hand to her. “Coffee?”

Hand in hand, the two ambled to the kitchen, exchanging bashful smiles when they saw their discarded clothes along the way. Once in the kitchen, Roy grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the counter, savoring her surprised little squeak. He got his coffeemaker going and turned his attention to the fridge so he could start pulling out ingredients.

“Want any help?” she asked from her perch as she tried to smooth down her wild hair.

Roy shook his head, pausing to kiss her nose. “Fuck no. I told you I was making you breakfast, so I’m making you breakfast.”

So she sat, smiling softly as she watched him prepare eggs and sausages and beans and all the other things he’d bought just for her. He brought her a mug of coffee, exchanging it for a slow kiss before returning to his cooking.

“Keeley wasn’t fucking kidding,” she murmured.

Roy turned and looked at her with a curious grin. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged. “A while back, just before the gala actually, she was telling me what a great boyfriend you are. Said she could basically write you a letter of recommendation.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” He paused his work to come stand between her thighs, eyebrows raised teasingly.

He loved seeing her blush, all soft and timid compared to her usual toughness. “I mean… you know… we… you’re just…” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, fuck off Kent.” With that, she pressed her mouth to his, as though trying to distract him, or shut him up. Probably both.

Roy laughed against her lips, cupping her face. When he pulled back, he noticed her blush had deepened. “I can be whatever you want,” he murmured softly.

The shyest smile spread across her sleepy face. “How about ‘mine’?” Immediately, her eyes widened and she ducked her head. “Shit,” she laughed awkwardly. “That sounded so… fuck, I’m sorry, is that too…?”

Roy lifted her chin tenderly. “Oi,” he whispered in his softest voice. “I have been fucking waiting to be yours, Buck. For a while now. But if you think things are… are going too fast or if they get too intense or if I…” He cleared his throat. “If I get too clingy… Please fucking tell me.” He brushed his thumb against her bottom lip. “I’m just so fucking happy right now,” he explained. “And I know I can get really fucking intense and clingy and-”

“Roy.” She smiled and brought her hand to his cheek. “I think if any two people have earned the right to be intense and clingy, it’s us, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” Roy leaned his forehead to hers as a smile spread across his face. “We’ve fucking earned it.”

I spent the entire weekend with Roy. After my full English breakfast and some rather adult activities in the kitchen, Roy drove me home to grab a few things; other than that, we didn’t leave his house at all. We fell into a pattern of sex, and cuddling, and eating, and more sex, all weekend long. I found that I really liked wearing his shirts around his house and eating the food he cooked and laughing at his stories about the Greyhounds and watching the movies he loved- and dammit, I really liked him.

Late Sunday evening, we lounged on his couch, some old black and white movie on the television. I sat back, with my legs thrown over his lap, loving the feeling of his hand roaming up and down my bare legs as he watched the movie. His eyes kept wandering over to me, full of warmth and affection.

My eyes, however, landed on the clock.

“I should head home soon,” I murmured, shifting myself until I was straddling Roy’s lap, facing him. “We should both get some rest after…” I grinned mischievously. “Well, let’s just say it was a very active weekend.”

Roy brushed some loose hair off of my face. “I don’t want rest.” He pressed a slow kiss to my lips. “Fucking want you.”

A low groan escaped my throat as I pressed my forehead to his; fuck, staying in this house forever was tempting. “We’ve got training in the morning, Coach,” I reminded him pointedly, probably reminding myself more.

“Let’s just fucking cancel training then. Tell everyone we’re sick.” The grin he wore told me he was half-joking. Maybe a little less than half.

I ran my fingers through his hair and gently pushed his head back. “Oh yeah, both managers calling in sick,” I scoffed. “That’s not suspicious at all.”

“Fucking spoilsport,” he hummed, pecking my nose. His hand wandered up the black shirt I was borrowing to stroke my bare back. “So, since apparently you’re making me go to work tomorrow, what d’you think about…” He cleared his throat, not quite looking me in the eye. “Tomorrow. At Nelson Road. Are we, I don’t fucking know, telling people? About… this? Us?”

“Oh.” My thumb stroked the crease that had suddenly appeared between his thick eyebrows. “I mean, do you want to?”

Roy sighed. “I don’t fucking know.” He buried his face in my neck, tickling my skin with his beard. “Everything we went through with the fucking pictures… it’d be nice to just keep it to ourselves for a bit, you know? Enjoy ourselves a bit before having everyone’s fucking opinions and comments and questions.” He tapped his nose to mine. “What d’you think?” His brown eyes were full of worry, as if I were about to run away again.

I slipped my arms around his neck. “I think I’d like to keep things quiet,” I admitted. “Let us get used to being together without the damn press making another mess of things.” I smirked. “Plus, keeping things a secret might be kind of sexy. All that sneaking around we’ll be doing,” I teased.

He laughed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Have I mentioned yet that you’re fucking perfect?”

“You could mention it again,” I purred, batting my eyelashes at him.

His smile turned mischievous. “One more for the road?” he asked, nodding towards the bedroom.

I scrambled to my feet, pulling him up with me as our now-forgotten movie continued to play. “One more for the road.”

Roy should’ve known that Monday was going to be a challenge. But shit, when she walked into her office with her bouncy ponytail and leggings, Roy thought he was going to explode. Sure, they’d spent all of Sunday night texting after he’d dropped her off at home, but after a weekend of having her in his bed (and several other places around his home), the sight of her had Roy biting back the stupidest fucking smile. If Roy wasn’t careful, he’d look just as goofy and lovesick as-

“Mornin’, Coach!”

Ted stood grinning in the doorway, holding a couple of folders. Roy couldn’t help but notice the little pink lipstick mark on Ted’s cheek.

“You see Rebecca this morning?” Roy asked with a smirk, nodding to Ted’s face.

The American’s eyes went wide as he touched his cheek. “Oh. Well, I uh….” He chuckled bashfully. “Aw heck, who’m I kidding? Yeah, I popped up to her office to say good morning and bring her some biscuits.” He let out a content sigh and leaned on the doorframe. “Just can’t believe it took us so long, y’know?” He followed Roy’s distracted gaze to the office next door; Bucky was looking at her computer, clearly trying to keep herself from looking into the Greyhounds office. “Guess maybe you do know,” Ted hummed quietly. He cleared his throat. “You do that ‘grand gesture’ yet?”

Roy cleared his throat and ripped his eyes away from her, choosing instead to narrow them at Ted. “You need something?”

“Oh, here.” Ted strolled over and handed Roy one of the folders. “Got a little scouting report for ya. Some impressive young men I think you’d be interested in.” He nodded towards the Whippets office. “Got a visit to the States next week, there’s a couple college gals I want to check out for her.”

“That’s nice,” Roy mumbled vaguely, pretending not to care, like he wasn’t excited to be talking about her. When Ted just kept staring at him, he cleared his throat. “Anything else?”

Ted wasn’t completely clueless, not really. He could see the shiftiness in Roy’s eyes, the way the manager was clearly fighting the urge to stare through the window, the tiny little tug in the corner of his mouth every time he failed. While Ted didn’t know the extent of what was going on between the two managers, he did know that the look in Roy’s brown eyes was the same look Ted knew he often had around Rebecca.

“Say, I’ve gotta run,” Ted lied. “Think you could slip this on over to the Whippets?” He handed Roy the other folder, one that had the W.F.C. Richmond logo on it. “Thanks, Roy.” Before Roy could say anything, Ted turned and walked out, humming happily to himself.

For a moment, Roy just stared at the folder. He was an adult man; he could manage himself, right? He could be professional. He was Roy fucking Kent, after all. Nodding to himself, he stood and strolled over to the Whippets office, approaching her desk calmly, determined to be the picture of professionalism-

“Good morning, darling,” he hummed in her ear, every coherent thought flying out of his mind when he caught a whiff of vanilla and lavender.

She quickly glanced over his shoulder, checking that no one could hear them. “Subtle, Kent,” she snorted. “What happened to keeping things quiet?” The sparkle in her eye assured him that she didn’t mind, not one bit.

He shrugged, dropping the folder onto her desk and perching himself on its edge. “Do I sound like a total wanker if I said you look way too fucking pretty today?”

“Only a little,” she chuckled. She bit her lip and gazed up at him. “Hi,” she whispered, gently ghosting her hand over his.

He leaned down towards her face. “Hi.”

“Roy? Hey, Roy?”

The sight of Jamie jogging into Roy’s office had the two managers retreating from their almost kiss. Rolling his eyes, Roy cleared his throat to get the striker’s attention. Jamie’s pretty face lit up when he saw the two gaffers in such close proximity.

“Good morning, Coaches,” he greeted in a far-too-sugary voice. “Roy, you feelin’ better?”

Roy frowned. “Fuck are you on about?”

Jamie wore that familiar confused pout. “On Saturday morning, you told me you were sick. Said that’s why we couldn’t train. You said you’d be in bed all weekend.”

Shit. “Oh, yeah, feeling loads better.” His face was burning as Buck held back a snicker. “We’ll train tonight, alright, Tartt?” He narrowed his eyes at the pretty manager. “See you later, Coach.”

She punched his arm playfully, smirking as he hopped off her desk. “Later, Coach.”

“Bucky, is your ankle alright?” Lucas gazed at me with concern in his eyes.

I wrinkled my nose and absently kicked at the grass with the toe of my sneaker. “Uh, yeah. I guess. Why?” I kept my gaze on the pitch, mentally working on my lineup for our next match.

He shrugged, his concern giving way to curiosity. “You’ve been limping all morning. Thought maybe you’d gotten hurt or something.”

“Have I?” I asked dumbly.

Damn, I was hoping that the slight stumble in my step wasn’t too noticeable. I knew I’d have a little bit of a hard time today; at some point over the weekend, I’d lost count of what round Roy and I were on. It was almost as if we were trying to make up for all the sex we would’ve been having if we’d just gotten together after the gala instead of dancing around our feelings. I’d woken up Monday feeling sorer than I had since retiring; the feeling had me reaching for my most comfortable shoes and leggings with a sloppy grin. Apparently my inability to walk properly was more obvious than I thought.

“How was your weekend?” he asked slowly, eyebrows raised. “Didn’t hear from you too much.”

I folded my arms. “Fine. Nothing too exciting. Just, you know, relaxed and stuff.”

“Relaxed,” he repeated with a slow nod. “Right.”

His tone was far too suspicious. “Lucas,” I murmured, finally tearing my gaze from our team. “What are you imply-”

“Coach.”

Hopefully Lucas didn’t hear my breath hitch when Roy’s fingers brushed against my back. The manager raised his eyebrows at me, quickly bringing his hand back to his side as the Greyhounds came out onto the pitch, calling out boisterous greetings as they passed us. Some of them looked especially smug when they saw Roy standing next to me. Lucas turned and blew his whistle, calling the Whippets in.

“Need something, Kent?” I did my best to keep my voice even, as though my head wasn’t swimming with the now familiar scent of Roy.

He shrugged as our teams mingled past each other. “Just wanted to check if you still wanted to go running today.” For the briefest moment, his eyes flickered down my figure until returning to my eyes. “New episode of Lust Conquers All is on tonight.” He bobbed his head, appearing significantly more casual than I felt. “Could drop you off after, before I have to meet Tartt.”

“Sounds good,” I managed before taking a step back to follow my team back inside. “Have a good practice, Coach.”

He saluted to me, wearing a smirk that I wanted to feel against my skin. “See you later.”

As Lucas and I followed the Whippets to the weight room, Lucas bumped his hip into mine. “Criminy, just call me the Invisible Man.”

I snorted. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, just that Coach Kent only has eyes for you these days,” he teased, throwing his arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure he’s got more than just eyes for you. He probably has a nice, big-”

“I will kill you,” I growled, shoving my assistant coach’s arm off me. “Seriously. You all spend months begging me and Roy to be friends, we finally are, and now you’re giving me shit about it? Not to mention all the smug looks everyone wears whenever we’re around each other.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. “I swear to God, everyone who works here is insane.”

Lucas laughed good-naturedly as we reached the training room. “Fine, fine. You and Kent are friends, neither of you is shagging the other, all is right with the world.” He nodded towards the door. “You comin’?”

I nodded and pulled my phone out of my pocket, noting the text notification on my screen. “In a sec.”

Want me to come over after training with Tartt? We can get in some more cardio ;)

It was a good thing Lucas was already focusing on training, because my face was on fire when I read Roy’s text. Biting back a grin, I quickly responded with a Sounds good Coach ;) and tucked my phone away.

When I entered the training room, Lucas raised his eyebrows at me. “And who was that?”

I shoved his shoulder with a laugh. “Fuck off.”

Yeah, hiding this whole thing was going to go well. Really fucking well.

At least sneaking around would be fun.

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#roy kent something there #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso

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thisismysecondrodeo · 1 year

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Getting Good (Dom!Ted x Sub!Reader)

AN: The unrequested 4th (and probably final part) to the Dom!Ted x Sub!Reader series. Again, I definitely had to do some research on D/S dynamics so apologies for any errors. Based loosely on the discord message: "He texts you to be ready for a dom/sub scene as soon as he gets home and you know that means you have to be on your knees and waiting and fully in “yes sir” mode + this post:

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Established Relationship, Date Night, Dom!Ted, sub!Reader, dom-sub dynamics and conversation, kink color system, rough oral sex (male receiving), light impact play, vaginal fingering

Getting Ready (1) | Getting Busy (2) | Getting Off (3) | Fic Masterlist

You had gotten the text message from Ted about 45 minutes ago and you’d been buzzing ever since. He had slowly grown more comfortable with the dom/sub dynamic the two of you had been exploring—you reserved specific nights and used specific phrases to indicate your stops and starts—but it was still rare that he initiated. You knew he still had trouble around feeling demanding. But tonight, after a long, hard day at work you’d gotten a text that drove everything from your mind.

Ted: I’d love to take charge tonight. Be ready for me?

You knew exactly what that meant and you texted back an immediate, “yes sir.” You’d spent all day long making decisions and having people look to you for next steps and you wanted nothing more than to be empty of everything but following directions and receiving pleasure. No thinking critically, no making decisions, just meeting needs and having needs met. You practically skipped to your dresser and slid open the drawer you reserved for your laciest things. It was never important to Ted what you wore, but it helped you get into the proper headspace when you dressed in something sexy.

You chose white, knowing Ted loved how it looked on your skin; a lace, see-through bra, and matching crotchless panties, complete with garters and stockings. Ted had purchased it, but you’d never worn it for him before and you were preemptively giddy at what his reaction would be.

You kneeled in the center of the bed, sitting back on your heels, and fought the urge to text him to get an ETA. The waiting was part of it, the anticipation already ramping up your arousal, already making you shift a little on the bed as you listened for the sound of the front door.

Your heart skipped a beat when you finally heard it and you sat up ramrod straight, ready for your love to walk into the room and tell you what was going to happen next.

Ted was tired, but he didn’t regret texting you. He hovered outside of the door for just a moment, eyes closed, hand resting on the doorknob. Richmond was suffering from tie after tie, Michelle wanted to discuss the custody agreement for the thousandth time, and it seemed everyone in his life was looking to him for answers that he didn’t have. But on the other side of this door, he knew you would be there waiting for him, with no questions and needing no answers from him; when he stepped through the door, if he asked for something he was going to receive it and just the thought of that had his pulse quickening and his cock throbbing.

You didn’t dare move a muscle when the door opened silently, but you couldn’t hide your smile. There was never a moment that you didn’t want to see Ted, and right now was certainly no exception. He was wearing his classic button-up shirt and khakis, and you knew he must have removed his sweater before his walk home, maybe just to make it easier to get undressed right now. He leaned against the doorframe and looked at you, his eyes full of unadulterated affection as they trailed the lengths of your exposed skin. He gave you a low whistle as he crossed the threshold.

“Look at you, darlin’,” Ted spoke slowly, his voice quiet enough that if you’d moved you wouldn’t have heard him. “You knew exactly what I wanted, didn’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you said, matching his volume, your voice dripping with pride.

He walked over to the side of the bed, within arms reach and you turned to look at him but stayed firmly on your knees. “Eyes forward, beautiful.” And it was just like Ted to make a command sound so sweet and pleasant. You turned back toward the doorway and could feel his fingers drag chastely across your shoulders and down your arm, before picking up your hand and bringing it to his lips. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the tenderness that was immediately countered by a firm snap of your garter against your thigh that you didn’t see coming and it shocked a gasp from you.

You bit your bottom lip in regret at the sound but Ted ran his thumb over it and pulled it free. “It’s okay darlin’, you can talk to me. You make such beautiful sounds.”

You said the first thing that came to mind, all in one deep exhale of breath, “I missed you baby.”

You were still looking straight ahead so you couldn’t see the bright smile that graced his face. “Oh, baby you have no idea,” Ted sighed, and he slid onto the bed behind you, resting on his knees and plastering himself against your back. His arm snaked up your chest and his right hand held you loosely under your jaw—you sucked in a breath as his lips found the side of your neck, his mustache tickling at the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Do you want me to touch you, baby,” Ted asked, his left hand fiddling with the waistband of your underwear, his right hand gently stroking the length of your neck as you tilted your head back onto his shoulder.

“Yes.”

Ted snapped your garter again and you yelped, “Yes, sir.” He kissed your shoulder for delivering the right answer, which you appreciated, but you would have said anything to get him to put his hands where you wanted them. The crotchless panties meant you could feel yourself slick and wanting and you nearly whined when Ted removed his hand from your neck. You didn’t mourn the loss for long because he quickly looped it around your ribcage and pulled you back into his lap, pressing his own back into the headboard and spreading his legs in a V. With your back against his front, he could look over your shoulder and see all of you spread out for him, your legs askew and braced on his strong thighs. Ted hummed as his warm palms covered your stomach and thighs, taking his time with caresses and tickles that had you wiggling against his noticeable erection.

“I’m going to lose my mind,” you whined through gritty teeth when his fingers barely grazed your nipple. You knew better than to ask or beg but you were glad he gave you the okay to talk.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, and you’ve been so good for me,” Ted chuckled, dropping an open-mouthed kiss on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. As he kissed you, he tugged the cup of your bra just enough to give him access to your nipple, tweaking it gently between his thumb and forefinger. You moaned, deep and low, and Ted pinched just a bit harder, his teeth and mustache grazing your neck, his other hand still splayed wide on your thigh.

“Fuck, Ted,” you breathed out, and he released your breast, pressing his hand firmly between your shoulder blades so you’d bend forward enough that he could reach the clasp of your bra. You took a deep breath when you relaxed into him again, your peaked nipples tingling slightly as they were exposed to air.

“I want to take you apart, sweet pea,” Ted nearly growled in your ear and you shivered hard. The hand on your thigh was creeping closer to your center, while his other hand was back to massaging your breasts, alternating between them. “How does that sound?”

“Please, sir, fuck, please. Do whatever you want to me, I’m begging you.”

Ted groaned. His cock twitched against your back at the sheer devotion in your voice as you pleaded for him. “Yes ma’am.”

Ted used his own legs to spread yours further apart and you were sure the bed underneath you was damp, but it didn’t matter because he was finally sliding his middle finger over your throbbing clit. You whimpered loudly, but Ted took his time touching and exploring, his other hand still toying with your nipples. Without thinking about it, you slid a little further down in his grip.

“Where ya runnin’ to darlin’,” Ted chuckled, the hand on your breast quickly reaching up from your chest to hold your neck again, steadying you against him. He wasn’t restricting your breathing at all, but just the feeling of his possessive hold made you moan. The hand stroking your clit picked up its pace as he lowered his mouth to your ear. “You’re going to stay right there and be good for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, huskily. Ted paused in touching you and you watched with wide eyes as he reached for your garter and stretched it further than ever, the elastic making your eyes water and you cried out as it made impact. It was a sharp sting that was over quickly and it felt like it went straight to your clit.

“I can’t hear you, beautiful. You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you? You’re gonna sit right here and let me make you come?”

“Yes, sir,” you overcorrected, nearly yelling as his hand returned, but he bypassed your clit and instead entered you in one smooth motion and fucking you steadily with long, confident fingers. Your eyes practically rolled back in your head, but as much as you wanted to meet his thrusts or push back against his straining erection, you followed instructions and held still. It was worth it for the praise he cooed in your ear. Ted released your neck, slowly returning to caressing every inch of your skin with a warm, firm pressure while still working you up easily, the sounds filthy and arousing.

He curled his fingers, transitioning to short strokes against your inner wall that made your eyes slam shut and your head fall back again. Ted took advantage of the access, licking and sucking marks into the thin skin of your neck. Your skin was growing hot to the touch and you could feel Ted’s smile pressed against your shoulder, his hair flopping over his forehead and tickling the side of your face. He knew you were close and you’d do anything in your power to obey so that you could orgasm. You were panting curses as the pleasure built and Ted was a grinning fool, as he brought his thumb to your clit with a rapid flicking motion. Your abs flexed with the force of your climax, shockwaves rolling up from your core that had you flinging your hands to grip Ted’s thighs, your fingers digging in hard enough that you knew he’d find bruises when it was all said and done.

When your breathing settled, Ted used his thumb and forefinger to tilt your face toward his and kiss him deeply, his tongue slick and searching against yours. Your heart beat a steady patter of I love him, I love him, I love him and neither of you had to say it for you to know that he felt it too.

“You okay, darlin’,” Ted asked softly as he pulled away. “Color?”

“Green,” you answered with zero hesitation. You licked your swollen lips and realized Ted was still fully dressed. You turned around to kneel between his legs and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Ted reached for your wrists and held them easily with one hand, restraining you from his buttons. “Why don’t we take a break, let me get you some water.” You knew Ted was being sweet and considerate but it almost felt like a punishment for him to pause the scene, for him not to snap your garter or slap your ass and admonish you for taking his clothes off without permission. You’d followed every instruction, and behaved yourself perfectly, but you must look pretty wrecked if he was taking your green as a yellow anyway.

“No sir,” you pouted, avoiding his eyes and instead looking down at his tented crotch.

“No,” he questioned, one eyebrow raised, his voice instantly darker. You smirked knowing that you had him hooked again. “You’ve been such a good girl and now you want to ruin it by telling me no?” His other hand fingered the elastic of your garter yet again, but he waited you out.

“You’re right, I have been such a good girl,” you practically purred, and you moved backward on your knees, a stretch considering your hands were still bound in one of Ted’s. “And now I want my reward.” Thank god for yoga, you thought as you bent down, your arms still restrained, and pressed your lips to Ted’s crotch. Ted groaned and you took a few moments to press kisses into his khakis before licking a broad stripe over his hard, hidden cock. Despite the multiple layers, he could feel the heat from your tongue and his breath hitched.

“Baby,” Ted started to speak, but when he opened his eyes to look at you, your face was pressed to his bulge and you were looking up at him with pleading doe-eyes; whatever thought or objection he had died before it hit the air. “Fuck, you really want it, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to sound seductive but your tone was excited and embarrassingly desperate.

“You were a very good girl for me,” Ted considered, “but right now you’re being incredibly naughty and you know it.” You smiled a little, wiggling your hips in the air. “I guess I’ll just have to show you what happens when you’re not careful what you wish for.”

You weren’t sure exactly what he meant but the words themselves sent bolts of electricity through you. He tugged your hands gently so you’d raise up enough for him to slide off the bed. You were surprised that he didn’t release his grip on you, but you weren’t complaining about watching him open his belt buckle and pull his boxer briefs and khakis down to his ankles one-handed. His cock bobbed, hard and shiny with precum, and you had to put in some effort to keep your drool contained. You were still kneeling on the bed, but Ted gestured with his head at the floor and you used his support to clamber down and kneel in front of him instead.

“Open,” Ted requested firmly, and you obeyed instantly, sticking your tongue out slightly. Ted grabbed his cock at the base and fed it gently into your open mouth, a short thrust before he removed his cock entirely. You didn’t have the use of your hands to brace yourself so you fell forward just a little and Ted used his other hand to tilt your chin up to him. “You’re not going to get to use your hands, do you know what to do if you need a break?”

You wanted to joke “bite” but Ted was serious about safety and you were so close to getting what you wanted. “Yes, sir,” you wiggled your hand around to make enough space that you could easily tap the top of his hand in 3 short bursts.

“Good girl,” Ted said, before using the hand that was still under your chin to bring your mouth back to his cock. Ted was big and he knew it, not often requesting blow jobs, but you relished in the burn of your jaw as you bobbed your head down the length of him and back up. He held himself still at first but then slowly started to thrust, his hand moving from your chin around to the back of your neck. You moaned as he took control of the pace and you focused on nothing else but being wet and open for him. You could tell he was being gentle with you and yet you still gagged around him a little when he brushed the back of your throat.

“Fuck, darlin’, you feel amazing,” Ted sighed, his hips continuing to snap forward, and you could answer with only a whimper. If you could speak, you would have told him the silky, warm weight of him against your tongue felt just as fantastic. You looked up at him and could feel tears forming in the corner of your eyes and Ted slowed slightly. You could tell he was about to check in with you and you cut him off by hollowing your cheeks, ramping up the suction. Ted threw his head back with a growl thrusting once, twice, with his full length and then held, fully filling your throat. Your mind emptied of anything but breathing through your nose and making Ted come. You swallowed against him involuntarily, but the pressure made Ted spasm and he slid all the way out immediately, panting like he’d just run 5 miles.

“Jesus Christ,” Ted gasped, his hand still holding your neck steady and you grinned, your face damp and lips swollen. “Come up here.” Ted pulled your hands a little towards the bed but you held your ground and he looked at you quizzically.

“No, sir,” you said, your voice hoarse. “I want you to come in my mouth. Please.”

Ted waited a moment, searching your face for any hint of you regretting the request. He massaged the back of your neck and you hummed. “Beg for it.”

From your position on your knees, you locked eyes with your love, his dress shirt hanging open and his hair askew. This would be easy.

“I want your cock in my mouth. I would do anything, baby. Ted please, I want you so deep inside me that you cum straight down my throat. I want you to know how much I love you, Ted, and how much I want you to use me. I just want you to feel good, sir, please.”

The second the last syllable fell from your lips it was replaced with his cock, and he thrust into your mouth hard and fast. Your eyes fell closed and you felt floaty and loose, your whole body relaxing under his attention. Somewhere over your head he was cursing and praising in equal measure, but you were lost under a wave of pleasure and sensation. Ted managed just a few more thrusts before he again paused with his cock in your throat; he came with a groan and you quickly swallowed all of him.

Ted slid out of your mouth, releasing his hold on both your wrists and your neck as he fell to his knees in front of you. He pulled you into his chest and your eyes shut as he shushed and rocked you gently; you didn’t even notice how much you shivered in his arms. You were sated and soft and you melted into his embrace. He was familiar with the comedown after scenes like this—the two of you had done this enough—and he looked forward to the aftercare almost as much as the scene itself. When he could feel you return to yourself somewhat, he helped you off the floor and led you to the bathroom, shrugging off his shirt so the two of you were equally bare. He helped you into the shower and your throat was sore and you didn’t talk much, which used to scare him, but now he knew just how to fill the silence.

“I love you so much, sweetheart. I love doing this with you and making you feel good because you make me feel spectacular. I feel, just, on top of the world with you. Like I fell out of the lucky tree and hit every damn branch on the way down. You’re so gorgeous. I love every curve, dimple, and stretch mark. I love every eyelash. Ever smile and whimper and sigh.”

The words were different every time, but they still felt like a familiar chant as he washed you clean first and then himself. He placed chaste kisses on your warm skin as he dried both of you off, and the two of you slid into bed. Skin-to-skin contact always helped you feel more centered after being in that headspace, and Ted didn’t waste an inch of space—his legs tangled with yours and your head was tucked under his chin. Your tiredness fell over you suddenly but gently, like snowfall, and you pressed your lips over his heart and whispered, “I love you,” before falling asleep.

<- Getting Off

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso reader insert #ted lasso x reader #smut #ted lasso smut

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janewilsonrva · 8 months

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Fair Weather Greetings

Joseph Bryan Park

Based on a photo from September 3, 2023.

Richmond, Virginia (USA)

I walk uphill in the dappled sunlight under the trees along one of the old drives in the park. The morning is dry, very bright, and completely cloudless. For such weather, I had forsaken multiple cups of morning coffee at home to roam over the park's rolling landscape.

Along the drive, a group of cyclists heads toward me, so I step aside to let them pass. I am surprised at how many of them are in this all-male group, and watch them breeze past me in a near blur. "Hello! Hello!", a few call out in a friendly tone. Like me, they're taking advantage of the fair morning before the sun starts its afternoon bake. I raise my hand in greeting — "Hello! Hello!" — then continue my walk up the partly shaded hill, away from the nearby stream's languid flow, the drone of hidden cicadas pulsing in the air.

#rvaparks #mobile photography #art filter #jwwritings

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nativestarwrites · 2 months

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Tagged by the lovely @jamietarttsnorthernattitude to share the first lines of ten stories. I'm never quite sure if this is supposed to be posted or wips so I'm going to do a combo and keep it interesting, half you can read now (should you want to) and half are a taste of what's to come!

It’s amazing what you can get used to. When Darkness Falls

Jamie’s head throbs, a pulsing beat that’s persistent enough to motivate him into moving, into getting up and finding some painkillers. Nine ≈ Six

“Tell me where it hurts, and be specific," Jamie asks, because for some reason Jamie Fucking Tartt is perched on the edge of Roy’s coffee table, his hands hovering over his knee as if he’s going to heal it like some kind of miracle worker. Be Specific

Jamie is so fucking done with it. Little Green Army Man

It doesn’t matter that Roy’s already awake, has been awake for an hour now, whoever is ringing his doorbell at five in the fucking morning is going to get an earful. Running Through Emotions

Jamie doesn’t remember the attack, only the voice that smelled of lager as it whispered in his ear. Get the Medic

“I told you this was fucking stupid.” Dunking

A combination of a rogue puppy, a lunatic clown on an electric scooter and the muddiest corner of Richmond park results in Roy sitting in A&E with Jamie Tartt on what is supposed to be his day off. The Hairwash Wip

Something was off with Jamie today and Roy couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Migraine Wip

Jamie tells Roy at 5am on a Tuesday morning. Post series Wip

Tagging (apologies if you've already been tagged!) @appalachianapologies @rosieblogstuff @thirteenemeraldcats

#Ask game #Ted Lasso

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ameliora-j · 2 years

Text

in which i muse about ssa aaron hotchner //

content: gn!reader, soft fluffy moments with aaron, and a small section of a smutty thought

aaron is a stoic man. he doesn’t laugh, he doesn’t smile, and the softest his voice got was when he spoke to his son, and even then it was always monotonously. he’s always glaring, too serious, trusts men more than women, a stick in the mud, ocd he’s… well he’s aaron hotchner.

and despite all that he’s perfect. perfect hair a perfect voice, perfect body, perfect… well, everything really. aaron hotchner is simply perfect. he’s gorgeous. so, forgive you for having a crush in him. it isn’t entirely your fault, he’s the one to blame, truly.

what with the way he exudes confidence, lifts victims like they weigh nothing, throws unsubs around when he’s angry, oh and the suits don’t help one bit. the way that he walks into any room like he owns it and commands attention. tie wrapped around him his neck in a way that makes you want to just rip it right off of him. tell him to tie your hands behind your back and fuck you like he owned you… BUT

that’s not the aaron hotchner that we’re talking about. no, the aaron that we’re talking about is the soft aaron. the aaron that knows you’re simply a media liaison and nothing more. just a media liaison that’s kind of good at profiling and offers a second opinion when aaron feels like he needs fresh eyes.

the aaron that sees the way your hands shake and knows that your pulse is racing. he notices the cold sweat and the tears brimming your eyes when a certain case hits too close to home.

the one that drags you into his office, closes the blinds, and forces you into a hug. the aaron that let’s you sob in his chest to your hearts content, gripping at his suit jacket while he holds you, uncaring of the wrinkles you’re putting in it. the aaron that cradles your head to his chest and strokes his thumb over your hairline because he knows that it calms you down.

we’re talking about the gentle aaron, who forces you to step away from your desk for just a second. who pulls you into his office and sits you down. the one that makes your tea just how you like it and makes you talk about your day. he stops you when you start talking about the files on your desk. “i don’t want to hear about the case, i want to hear about you.” with a gentle smile.

he knows that looking through the case files and trying to decide who needs your help the most takes a toll on you. he knows that watching the pictures of crime scenes flash across your desk terrifies you because what if you don’t make the right decision? so, he makes you check out, and talk only about yourself. he wants to hear about you, not what’s happening in richmond, kentucky or sparks, nevada, or omaha, nebraska. he wanted to know how his baby was doing.

the caring aaron, who drapes his jacket over your sleeping form on the jet while you’re coming home. the aaron that drives you home and asks if you’d like him to spend the night. the one that let’s you bury yourself in his chest while you sleep, and doesn’t even mind that you’re drooling on his chest. the one that rubs your back and sleeps better when you’re with him, but plays it off like he wants to protect you from harm in the night.

aaron who turns off his alarm when it goes off at 5AM in favor of sleeping with you in his arms for longer. then, drags you back into his chest when you wake up at 6:30 telling him that he’s gonna be late. tells you to hush and sleep with him for longer while he texts the team and let’s them know they won’t have to come in until 10.

the aaron who knows that you’re feeling particularly sad that day, so he comes over with the three best things to cure a sad person: cupcakes, wine, and jack! you and the small boy build forts and watch star wars and eat cupcakes together, and aaron is all heart eyes.

seriously, his eyes are twinkling as he watches you, the love of his life, interact with jack, his son and reason for waking up in the morning. but his eyes always twinkle when he looks at you. he loves you. and you love him.

that’s the aaron hotchner i envision. the one who’s only soft when you’re around.

#nani.headcanons #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #he <3

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dreas-journalistic-journey · 6 months

Text

Journal #18- Dec. 1, 2023

Happy December, folks!

Yesterday I had a virtual meeting with a spokesperson from Food Bank of Contra Costa & Solano County and his colleague. We discussed various details of my story, including my questions regarding the history of the Holiday Food Fight and whether the need for provided services has increased since the pandemic. There has, indeed, been an increase in need.

I learned a bit more about how the food bank has the ability to buy food in bulk, which stretches donated funds to the maximum benefit; the food bank representatives also confirmed that they would send along some relevant statistics and facts that I can use for my story.

Monday's J200 class meeting will be our last for the semester and we are going to have coffee and pastries while we reflect on our take aways from the past few months. It's certainly bittersweet.

#bay area news #college student #comm- 495 #communications major #journalism #journalism fellowship #journalism internship #newspapers #richmond confidential #richmond pulse #uc berkeley #j200 #food bank #food insecurity #contra costa county #solano county

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sortofanobsession · 11 months

Note

Roy/Jaime idea: Roy eats something and has a severe allergic reaction to it and Jaime is the one to run and get an epi-pen to save his life, and looks after Roy once he comes out of hospital. Jaime stays with Roy, and winds up never leaving.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. It's been a bad week for me trying to focus. I've only had one allergic reaction to medication as a toddler. I don't remember it. I wasn't there for my nephew's two anaphylaxis events. So I'm just going off what little I do know. Not sure if this is even a real allergy. I have external allergies, like contact allergies and a horrible reaction to bug bites, but that's not the same. I just imagine what that would be like in your throat and oh yikes.

Not beta read

Ao3

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Word Count: 6k+

Paring: Roy x Jamie (Romantic), Roy x Phoebe (familial/platonic, protective), Jamie x Phoebe (platonic, protective) Roy x AFC Richmond Himbos (platonic)

Content warning: Allergic Reactions, anaphylaxis, Hospitals, needles, epipens, medical emergencies, ptsd, trauma reactions

The press will make it seem like I ended your career and then you

Roy does not like people knowing about his life. He likes keeping it that way.

In a rare week where they end up having an extra day off after one of their games gets moved for a different game to be televised. The team only has a half day of training, and they meet up in the afternoon. Roy picks up Phoebe from school and joins them later in the day outside an unusual cafe. One of the guys hands them a smoothie, some fruity concoction a few of them insists Phoebe will like. And it's fine until Roy tells Phoebe to get her bag. When Phoebe looks up at him, she shouts. Jamie and Isaac are on their feet as she scrambles to get her bag.

"What was in that?!" Phoebe asks.

"Fruits and veggies," Someone says. And Jamie gets a good look at Roy and curses. She adds, "He needs to lie down." Jamie and Isaac do as she says and get him flat on the ground.

"Phoe," Jamie starts to ask if she has an epipen but she ignores him.

"What kind?" Phoebe shouts. “He has allergies.”

"Call an ambulance," Isaac shouts.

"Colin already did," Jan Maas says. "He is talking to them now."

Phoebe panics as she looks up at Jamie. “I can’t find it.”

“Does he have one?” Jamie tamps down his inner panic and focuses on what needs to be done.

“Glovebox,” Phoebe says.

“Sorry, mate,” Jamie mutters as he awkwardly gets Roy’s keys out of his pocket and sprints to the G Wagon. He makes a bit of a mess, but he finds an epipen. He rushes back and drops down beside Roy. With little work, he preps the pen and slams it into Roy’s thigh. “You can kick my arse if it bruises when you aren’t half dead,” Jamie says as he looks Roy over. He looked awful. His face was swollen, and his color was off. “But you don’t get to fucking die on me, mate. The press will make it seem like I ended your career and then you. Those pricks love making drama out of shit.” He isn’t sure if he’s talking to keep Roy focused on him being annoying or to make himself feel better.

“Someone see if anyone has another,” Colin says. “Lady says it might not work.”

“Bruv,” Isaac smacks Colin and gestures to where Phoebe stares at him with wide eyes.

“But I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Colin adds.

“He’s a fighter, Phoe,” Jamie says, trying to get her attention off of Colin. “Now, what’s he allergic to?”

Phoebe looks up at Jamie. "He can't have some leafy veggies like he can't use whistles," she tells him. "That's what mum says, at least."

"I got it, Phoe," Jamie says before focusing back on Roy. "Rough day, coach?" Roy glares at him. "When this is over, I'm going to ask your sister what else you haven't told the team that might actually kill you. So far, it's whistles and kale or some shit because clearly you can't be trusted to tell me." Roy growls, but it comes out half wheezed. Jamie takes Roy's hand and puts his fingers on his wrist. His pulse is fast and all over the place, but it's not terrible. "Just try and breathe, ya prick. Don’t want to traumatize the kid any more than she already is.”

Colin comes over to hand Jamie his phone, but Jamie just hands it to Phoebe. "Tell them what you told me." It's good for her to have a task to keep her focused. And she knows more than most of them do with this. Jamie can tell the swelling must ease some because Roy looks a tiny bit better. Jamie takes off his jacket and puts it under Roy's head. "There nice and comfy now, innit?" Roy glares at him again, but Jamie takes his hand again. His grip shifts to hold it in one hand, and still feel his pulse. His other hand goes into his pocket and pulls out his phone. Jamie unlocks it and hands it to Colin. "Do me a favor and call Phoebe's mum. She's in there as Roy Kent's fit sister."

That earns a grunt from Roy. Jamie smirks. "I know. You'll cut my eyes out." He squeezes Roy's hand. "You can yell at me when you can breathe properly again."

"Fuck you," Roy manages now that the epinephrine is working. Jamie grins and carefully sets Roy’s hand down.

"Good news, lads, he lives," Jamie says, standing up. They cheer. "Still going to the A&E," Jamie insists.

Phoebe gives Colin back his phone and moves to sit beside her uncle. She takes the hand that Jamie doesn't keep using to check his pulse and holds it tight. Jamie leaves for a second and comes back.

"I'm okay, kid," Roy says. She hums but doesn't say anything.

"How ya doing, coach?" Jamie asks.

“You lock my fucking car?” Roy asks.

Jamie chuckles. “Yes, I locked your fucking car. Now answer my question.”

"I'm fine," Roy insists. Jamie huffs another laugh. He uses a bandana to wipe the sweat off Roy's now less pale face. Roy grimaces.

"It's clean. I swear," Jamie says. "Can't have big bad Roy Kent looking sweaty, might make some poor medic swoon."

"You're fucked in the head, Tartt," Roy says.

"You don't know half of it," Jamie grins.

"I'm fucking glad for that," Roy grumbles.

"Oh, trust me, you'd enjoy some of it," Jamie adds with a wink. And Roy glares at him.

"He seems fine to me," Richard laughs from where he and Colin stand behind Jamie.

"Yeah, but unless one of you has another epipen, then we better hope that the ambulance doesn't take forever," Jamie says.

"I told you, I'm fine," Roy attempts to get up, but Jamie and Phoebe stop him.

"Sorry, Coach," Jamie says. "Doc's orders."

When the paramedics get there, Roy cooperates because Phoebe looks like if he doesn't, she might cry from where she holds onto Jamie's hand with both of hers. Jamie is knelt down to her level and clearly trying to comfort her. The medics let Jamie go with them to look after Phoebe.

Phoebe stays with Jamie in the waiting room when they reach the hospital.

"You good, Phoebs?" Jamie asks when she sits down.

"Yeah," She says.

"You sure?" He asks again. "Cause you don't have to be. Sure as hell scared me."

"You didn't seem scared," Phoebe says.

"Got years of practice looking tough on the outside," Jamie says.

"Uncle Roy says it's because your dad is a…well," she pauses.

"Bad word, innit?" Jamie grins.

"It is," she admits.

"Well, my old man is a bad word," Jamie says.

"Mine was too, so we have that in common," she states.

"We do," Jamie says as he throws his arm around her shoulder and pulls her into his side. "But you're a way better kid than I was. 'Lot smarter than I was. But we don't need bad dads with your Uncle Roy around."

"He's going to be okay, right?" She asks.

"Your mum's here, 'course he'll be okay. Be back to his gloomy and grumpy self in no time. A quid says he's already trying to convince them to let him go because he's fine, and your mum will have to put him in his place."

"You're on because he's not going to argue if mum is working because she is already busy, and she won't put up with nonsense."

"Oh, fair point. Guess we'll see."

Roy might yell at Jamie for gambling with his 8-year-old niece, but Jamie will take that lecture. She isn't as worried or upset as she had been when they got there. So he doesn't regret it. They argue over what the waiting room TV should be changed to, despite neither of them having control over what is on. They both send Keeley texts from Jamie's phone, and they end up looking at magazines and saying who on the team would wear the outfits in the photos and ads.

"Mum!" Phoebe runs over and hugs her mother when she approaches them.

"How is he, doc?" Jamie asks.

"On the mend," she assures him. "Should be able to go home soon. But someone will need to look after him. You up for that?"

"Me?" Jamie asks. He figured Keeley would be the one to do it.

"I think you can handle it," she says with a sly smile. "And I know you'll actually fight him if he tries to do something he shouldn't. He is not the easiest of patients."

"Giving the nurses trouble?" Jamie asks, glancing at Phoebe.

"Ha, no, not in my hospital. He knows better," She says.

"That's fair," Jamie says. He digs a coin out of his pocket and hands it to Phoebe. Phoebe's mum shakes her head. "You guys can head back and see him now." She has a nurse take them to Roy's room.

"Uncle Roy!" Phoebe hurries over to him when they get there.

"Hey, kid," Roy says.

"How do you feel?" She asks.

"Like I don't need to be here anymore. I'm sure there's someone out there that could use this bed more than me."

"You just want to get out of here before the press finds out you're here," Jamie says as he sits in the chair by the bed.

"Probably already on the way if Jamie Tartt was loitering around the waiting area," Roy states.

"Hey, someone had to keep Phoebe from getting bored," Jamie says.

"Fuck off. I'm sure she was the one entertaining you. You can't sit still for five minutes. You can barely sit like a fucking adult."

"Wow, rude, and two quid on your tab, for shame, Uncle Roy," Jamie grins.

"Fucking nightmare," Roy mutters. "Anyone tell you when I could fucking leave?"

"Mum says soon, but you have to go home with Jamie," Phoebe says.

"Fuck no," Roy says.

"Uncle Roy," Phoebe says and gives him a look she probably learned from her mum. Jamie hid his smile behind a drink he had gotten when he had gotten Phoebe food since she didn't actually get to eat at the cafe. He always found it insanely adorable how much sway she had over her uncle. And honestly, it was something Jamie could just sit all day and watch. Because getting to spend a day with his childhood hero and someone he cared for was just something special to Jamie. To see such an honest and genuine version of Roy fucking Kent. Times like these he secretly enjoyed. Although he could have done without the gut-wrenching fear of losing Roy to something as stupid as a fucking smoothie. If Roy didn’t start carrying an epipen on him at all times, Jamie would because they had in a very bad spot if Jamie hadn’t found the one in the glove box.

Jamie listened to Roy and his niece argue.

"What do you think, Jamie?” Phoebe says.

"I'm pretty sure my coach yells at me if I ignore my doctor's orders," Jamie points out, making direct eye contact with Roy. "And that coach is usually you."

Roy groans. "Fucking, fine."

They settle in and watch some cartoons Phoebe picks on Roy's phone while Jamie just scrolls through his. He texts the team to let them know Roy is fine. And after a couple of hours, they get to leave. Jamie insists Phoebe come with them for the night to “help”. He'd left both his and Roy’s keys with the team. Isaac said they’d get Jamie’s car back to Nelson Road, but they’d drop Roy’s at the hospital so they had a ride home. Isaac assured him Colin wasn’t allowed to drive either of them. Jamie loves his teammates, and he lets them know how thankful he is in texts.

Roy is exhausted and feels like shit, but he is happy to be home. Even if Jamie was now in his home. Roy unceremoniously drops down on the sofa. Phoebe is quick to sit beside him, and he smiles when she snuggles into his side. They had a fucking terrifying day, and the look of absolute fear that Phoebe had during the entire incident was burned into his retinas. It would probably haunt his fucking dreams.

“Here,” Jamie says, handing Roy a glass of water and the meds Roy's sister insisted he takes when he gets home. Roy’s neck and throat fucking hurt as he looks up at Jamie.

“Thanks,” Roy says as he takes them. Jamie just nods and goes to sit in an armchair. Roy shakes his head as Jamie tucks one leg up under him. He really couldn’t sit like a normal person, could he? At least the striker had taken his shoes off. But Roy didn’t really mind. Jamie had saved his life and taken care of Phoebe. Jamie could fucking key his car, and Roy would probably let him, today at least. Jamie pulls out his phone and starts typing away at it. After a few minutes, he looks up at the TV and then at the pair on the sofa. Phoebe had turned some kid show on that Roy’s tired brain couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. “You guys hungry?” Jamie asks.

Roy doesn’t exactly feel like eating. But he hadn’t eaten shit at the hospital.

“You eat?” Roy asks Phoebe.

“Some,” Phoebe says. Roy looks at Jamie.

“She wasn’t exactly hungry, but I did feed her,” Jamie says. He gets up and hands Roy his phone. It had a soup and sandwich place they often got delivered to Nelson Road pulled up. “Your sister says you can’t have much, nothing pointy or crispy, but mines is already in. Add whatever.” Jamie heads back towards Roy’s kitchen. Roy could remember a time that having Jamie Tartt doing anything in his house would have annoyed him, but honestly, he was glad Jamie was there. Roy’s too fucking tired to think about much. He decides to heed his sister’s warning and gets a soup he doesn’t hate. He lets Phoebe pick what she wants before ordering it. He’ll find out how much he spent on Phoebe earlier and pay Jamie back later. When Jamie is gone for a few minutes, Roy considers getting up to see what he is doing, but Jamie returns and hands him a mug of tea.

“Figured you probably don’t keep whatever you’re allergic to in the house, so it was safe to make this. Might help your throat,” Jamie says. “Or make it worse, I’m no expert.” He hands a mug to Phoebe, who thanks him. Roy looks down and can tell that Jamie made her one of the fruity herbal teas that he keeps mostly for Phoebe, and that makes Roy pause. Because Jamie clearly has thought about a lot of details, Roy didn’t expect him to. He hadn’t asked for tea, but Jamie’s right. It might help. He knows Phoebe shouldn’t have caffeine this late in the day, especially after all the chaos of the afternoon. Her bedtime was only an hour away. Jamie had obviously considered that. And Roy has never been so glad to have Jamie around. Ever. Roy takes a drink and relaxes because whatever Jamie adds to it does actually help. He could fucking hug the man if he wasn’t so fucking knackered. And that was fucking weird. He fucking wanted to hug Jamie Tartt. Because he can remember the feeling of Jamie’s hand in his. It had been an awkward hold because Jamie had his fingers on his pulse point, but it had been more comforting than it should have been to him.

Jamie doesn't let him do shit. Doesn't even let him answer the door when the food is delivered. Jamie has Phoebe make sure of it, and it suddenly makes sense why he insists she joins them. Jamie knew Roy wouldn't make too big a fuss if she was there. She had been through enough for one day.

And Roy knows how that feels because Jamie may not have looked panicked while Roy was struggling to breathe. Roy could tell. Jamie’s eyes had been wide and filled with concern. The way Jamie’s hands had gripped him tight. It screamed, 'Don't leave me.'

After Phoebe goes to sleep, Jamie sits on the other end of the sofa and sighs.

“You good?” Roy asks.

Jamie pulls a leg up on the couch and angles himself more towards Roy. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but fuck you for not actually having that stupid epipen on you. Because fucking hell, mate.” Jamie runs a hand through his hair. “That can’t happen again. Was fucking terrifying.”

“Not exactly a fucking walk in the park for me either,” Roy says.

“I get that, but if you don’t start carrying one, then I will, because yeah, fuck that. Not doing that again.”

“You’re serious?” Roy stares at him.

“Fuck yes,” Jamie says, leaning forward. “I meant it. You don’t get to die on me.”

“Because the press will blame you,” Roy remembers.

“No…because…well, forget it,” Jamie sighs. “It’s late, and you should probably get some sleep.”

“What were you going to say?” Roy was surprised. Jamie usually isn’t one to hold back when it’s just the two of them.

“Because believe it or not, I do care about you,” Jamie admits. “Now go the fuck to bed. Because you're going to fucking need it. And so do I because I already know the team’s going to annoy you if you’re knackered. You’ll call drills and ‘m not doing those fucking knackered.”

Roy nods and says, “Fair play.”

They say goodnight.

Roy wakes up to the smell of fresh coffee and leaves his room to find Jamie and Phoebe making breakfast. Roy stops and takes in the scene in front of him. Jamie is making eggs, and Phoebe is buttered toast. Jamie had said something funny because Phoebe is laughing, and Jamie looked proud of himself. Roy gets a sudden feeling of want. And he isn’t exactly sure what that means. Obviously, coffee and food that wasn’t fucking liquid. But that wasn’t the kind of want this was. He wanted this to be a regular thing. To spend time like this. Jamie and Phoebe got on like a house of fire. And that made him insufferably endearing. Because Phoebe liking Jamie means a lot more to him than Roy even thought possible. And Jamie likes when people are happy. Roy used to think Jamie just liked the attention because of his ego. But now, Roy knows that it’s not his ego. Jamie is actually a people pleaser. Jamie craves validation. And fuck the way Jamie grins when looks at him like he is actually happy to see Roy. And Jamie said he cared about Roy. Fuck, it is too early for this many feelings.

"Morning, Coach," Jamie grins. Roy just grunts. "For the man that bangs on my door at 4 a.m. almost every day, you aren't looking much like a morning person." Roy flips him off as he gets coffee, and Jamie laughs. Phoebe giggles too. And Roy gets the strangest feeling in his chest. It stops him in his tracks. The sound of Jamie and Phoebe laughing in Roy's kitchen, even if it is at his expense, gave him fucking butterflies. That was not a feeling Roy was expecting first thing in the fucking morning. He nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand touches his shoulder. He turns, and Jamie looks at him. The jovial mood is gone, replaced by a look of concern on the striker's face. "You good? Jokes aside, you gave everyone a hell of a scare yesterday. If you're not feeling it today, you can-"

"I'm fine, Tartt. Try not to burn my flat down making breakfast," Roy says to redirect the conversation because there was no fucking way he was going to tell Jamie that it felt like his skin was electric where Jamie touched him. Fuck. Roy needed to get his shit together. This was Jamie Tartt—Prince of all pricks. But Jamie had stayed with him since Roy started having trouble breathing. And if he wasn't with Roy, he had been with Phoebe. Never leaving her until she was safe and no longer afraid. Phoebe had told him when Jamie had gone to meet the takeaway delivery driver at the door after they got home that Jamie had kept her busy and made her forget how worried she was when they were waiting at the hospital. That he only left her if he absolutely needed to and always made sure someone on staff knew she was alone so they could at least check on her. Luckily they all knew her mum, so they didn't really mind a few minutes if Jamie needed to make a call or use the loo. But he only did that once or twice because he didn't want to leave her alone in case something happened. And that hit Roy hard. Jamie really did give his all to the people in his life. He cared about Phoebe. He had no obligation to do what he had done, but Jamie didn't seem to hesitate. Just like jamming the needle into Roy's leg. No hesitation because when Jamie Tartt cared, he went fucking hard. Just like on the pitch. Nothing else mattered. He's thinking steps ahead, analyzing threats, and coming up with contingencies. Give that anxious energy of his a task, and it gets done. Not always the conventional way, but it gets done. And his current task was breakfast for the three of them.

Roy’s sister came round to pick up Phoebe after they ate.

Jamie cleans up the mess he made for breakfast, despite Roy’s protest. Jamie just shrugs him off, saying it’s just to keep busy before they head out to training.

Roy drives them both to training.

Roy finds himself watching Jamie more than usual as the team trains.

Jamie goes over as they break for lunch.

“I’m fine, Jamie. You don’t have to babysit me anymore,” Roy assures him as they head inside.

“Great, so does that mean you have no interest in getting lunch with me?” Jamie asks as he heads to the locker room.

Unlike the last couple of meals, Roy does have the ability to say no. To spend time without Jamie, but the more Roy thinks about it, he actually wants to go with Jamie. So Roy follows Jamie.

“I could eat,” Roy says and is glad he did because Jamie fucking smiles at him. And Roy’s stomach flips when Jamie nods.

Roy finds that lunch is an easy affair. They get food at the canteen and find a table. It’s nothing out of Roy’s normal day, but it feels different. It feels comforting. It helped to calm the nerves he’d had since he walked through the locker room doors, and the team bombarded him with questions. His fellow coaches kept telling him to take it easy. The med team checked in with him multiple times, and Roy just wanted things to be normal. The only person that wasn’t actually acting insane was Jamie, but Jamie had been with Roy since he first realized what had happened at the cafe. Jamie had a front-row seat to Roy getting better. And Roy realizes how much Jamie has actually been dealing with while helping Roy. He’d been the one in contact with the team. He was the one fielding two dozen people wanting to know how Roy was doing. Jamie had kept his bosses in the loop and kept anyone from bothering Roy while he was recovering. Roy set his sandwich down and looked at Jamie.

“You alright?” Jamie asks, now studying Roy closely.

“I didn’t thank you,” Roy says bluntly.

“For inviting you to get lunch where we both work?” Jamie asks.

“For fucking everything. For saving my life. For taking care of Phoebe. For dealing with these idiots,” Roy says, gesturing to the team members scattered around the tables of the canteen. “I’m a fucking prick for not thanking you sooner. So thank you, Jamie. For making sure I didn’t die because of a fucking smoothie.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jamie says.

“But I should. You didn’t have to do any of it. You could have just done nothing like most of the people there. The cafe workers barely did shit. You did it. And that’s not something I’m going to just write off. You saved my life. No one has to put on fucking suits and dress shoes for another funeral. You kept me alive. I owe you-”

“You don’t owe me shit, Roy,” Jamie says earnestly. “You’ve fucking seen me at my worst, and you didn’t hesitate to help me. Fucking hugged me, and you don’t hug anyone. You make sure I don’t fuck up and that I keep getting better. The fact you get up at fucking 3 a.m. so you can help me when you really don’t have to. You have done so fucking much for me, even when I used to be such a fucking prick. I can’t ever-”

“You’ve made me better too. You get that, right?” Roy says in all seriousness. “You challenge me the good way, always keeping me on my fucking toes. My sister and Phoebe think you bring out a fucking passion that I’d lost, that and Phoebe is fucking thrilled and keeps asking me if you’ll help her learn to ride a bike.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jamie smiles. “If I could get your stubborn arse to do it, she’ll be a delight.”

“Guess I have to buy her a fucking bike now,” Roy grins.

“Fuck off,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll fucking love every minute of it.”

“Fucking shops always upsell that shit,” Roy laments and goes back to eating, awkward feelings discussion seemingly over.”

Jamie ends up looking through bikes online and which shop to go to. Jamie doesn’t need to go with them, but he’s apparently going to. And Roy is oddly fine with the idea of Jamie joining them. To see Jamie and Phoebe doing mundane shit like he had that morning made Roy’s stomach flutter in a good way.

Roy’s flat is too quiet. He wouldn’t have minded the quiet less than two days ago, but after having Jamie and Phoebe there to fill the space had been something he didn’t know he wanted. Even when Phoebe hadn’t been there, Jamie had. Even when he was just doing dishes, Jamie just had a way of filling the space, making it feel less empty. He would chat with Roy or just fucking exist, and that was enough to make it feel less lonely. And Roy couldn’t believe he was missing Jamie fucking Tartt. He might regret it, but he ends up texting Jamie and making plans for training the next morning. Because Jamie had missed one morning, and Roy was not going to be the reason Jamie slacked off. Jamie hadn’t argued.

The next few days, Roy finds himself talking to and texting Jamie more than anyone else.

Keeley grins as she approaches Roy before their match against Brighton.

“What?” Roy grunts.

“How you feeling?” She asks.

“I’m fucking fine.” Roy is so tired of answering that question. He grunts and waves her off.

“That’s good. How’s Jamie?” She grins.

“He’s fucking ready to fuck up Brighton,” Roy states. “How else would he be?”

“You tell me since you have been chatting him up,” Keeley studies his reaction.

“Fuck off,” Roy glares at her. “I have not.”

“So you haven’t been texting him for the past few days? Like actually texting him when you don’t need to.” Roy just grunts. “Admit it, Roy-o.” Keeley smiles. “You-”

Roy pulls her aside into his office and closes the door.

“Whoa,” Keeley says, looking positively giddy. “You actually do have feelings for him, don’t you?”

“Keeley, you can’t-”

“I won’t tell anyone, but you have to tell him,” Keeley insists. “Roy, he fucking adores you. Always has, but after that shit with his dad at Wembley. And whatever happened in Amsterdam, he rarely talks about anyone else or anything. It's football, whatever PR I am helping him with, maybe his mum and you. I don't know how much he has told you, but that man fucking cried when he got home the other day. Like it was over 24 hours later, and it's like he finally could process everything. And the idea of losing you fucking hit him like a bus."

"He did not tell me that," Roy says.

"Of fucking course not. He probably thinks you'd think he's needy or too clingy."

"Fuck," Roy says as he sits down. He'd thought a lot about Jamie the last few days. But the idea that Jamie could feel the same way had never crossed his mind. Sure, Jamie said he cared for Roy. But they were mates now, and that was enough for Roy. Or it had been. "You really had to do this right before a fucking match," Roy says with a glare at Keeley.

"Sorry, not sorry," Keeley says and goes off to find Rebecca.

They win because Jamie Tartt is a fucking mastermind on the pitch. Knows exactly where the ball needs to go and how to get it there. And Roy couldn't be more proud of him. As Roy makes his way out onto the pitch, he has the urge to fucking kiss the striker in front of a stadium full of fans. And that is a very fucking bad idea. So instead, he hugs Jamie and tells him he did fucking great.

When the team makes it to the locker room, Jamie is flying high on the win and the fact Roy had actually smiled at him and hugged him. And Jamie doesn’t think his day can get better. But Roy drags him into the boot room, and before Jamie can say anything, Roy says he wants to kiss Jamie. Jamie just fucking nods, and then Roy fucking kisses him, and Jamie wonders if he is the one that almost died a few days ago because this has to be a dream because Roy has him backed against one of the shelves. One hand is in Jamie’s hair, and the other gripping his hip, and Jamie can only pull him closer and kiss him back. The door opens, and an amused Will walks in. Roy goes to pull away, but Jamie won't let him.

“Don’t mind us, Mr. Kitman,” Jamie chuckles as he steps to the side and takes Roy by the wrist. Roy says nothing and refuses to make eye contact with Will as Jamie drags him out of the room. “Want to get out of here?” Jamie says lowly to Roy, looking up at him from under his lashes. And Roy answers him by gripping his face and kissing him again.

“Get your shit,” Roy says. “And get your arse in the fucking car.” Jamie fucking moans into Roy’s mouth when he kisses him one last time. Earning a few interesting looks from the nearest players, but no one says anything about it. No one gives them shit. And Roy can appreciate that. Jamie quickly gets out of his sweaty kit and shoves his jacket in his bag because fuck that. He’s in a hurry, and Roy is watching him with amusement because he is less than graceful as he hurries. They don’t say a word to anyone as they leave. They barely say anything until they are locked away in Roy’s flat.

“You know the entire team will know by tonight, right?” Jamie says as he kicks off his shoes and tosses his bag near the wall.

“Fuck ‘em,” Roy says as he takes his jacket off and tosses it aside.

“Rather be the one fucked,” Jamie grins, and Roy growls. “That’s some articulate response there, coach. Didn’t quite get that, did you-” Roy cuts Jamie off with an aggressive kiss. It’s all passion and teeth as he bites Jamie’s lip. Jamie gives him what he wants and opens his mouth to him. Roy pins him to the wall and fucking explores Jamie as well as he can while they are both fully clothed in the fucking hallway. And as much as Jamie would happily let Roy fuck him against the wall in his entryway, he knows Roy’s knee is fucked, and he wants Roy to actually enjoy being with Jamie. So Jamie has to pull away. Roy growls when, again, Jamie slips out from between him and where Roy had him pinned. But his annoyance is gone when he looks over at Jamie. Jamie is already pulling his shirt over his head and heading down the hall.

“You coming or what?” Jamie smirks as he tosses his shirt at Roy. Roy catches it and drops it on top of Jamie’s bag, and follows Jamie down the hall. He tugs his own shirt off as he reaches his bedroom and tosses it aside. Jamie’s trackies are gone. Roy can understand why Keeley went back to Jamie for a good time after they broke up because fucking hell, Jamie Tartt had to have been sculpted by a higher power. And Roy doesn’t hesitate. He’s on Jamie before the smug prick can make a joke about Roy eye fucking him. A breathless laugh is all Jamie manages as Roy gets Jamie in his bed. Jamie is less talkative in bed than Roy would have thought. Sure, he had a fucking dirty mouth, but Roy fucking loves the wordless noises that Jamie makes as Roy methodically takes him apart and fucking ruins Jamie Tartt. The way Jamie moans his name pushes Roy over the edge, and they both end up panting for breath side by side in Roy’s bed. But that has an unexpected reaction from Jamie. Roy had expected him to maybe be a cuddler. Jamie is on his side and looking down at Roy, studying him. And Roy realizes Jamie is a lot less relaxed than he was a second ago.

“What?” Roy manages to ask. “What’s wrong?” And Roy is unnerved when Jamie just shakes his head lays down with his head on Roy’s chest. Jamie is silent. His ear was over Roy’s heart.

And Roy gets it. Roy had been trying to catch his breath. The last time Jamie heard him struggling to breathe was far less enjoyable for both of them. So he runs his fingers through Jamie’s hair silently. But he knows he has to say something when he hears Jamie sniffle.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” Roy says, wrapping his arms around Jamie to emphasize his point.

"Sorry," Jamie mutters.

"Don't be," Roy says honestly.

"That's the thing, I know you're fine, I really do." He shifts so he can see Roy.

"Bit better than fine," Roy grins.

Jamie huffs a laugh, but it seems half-hearted.

"I know but-"

"But it is an impulsive reaction. No rationality to it. Just you hear it, and you can't help but react."

"Yeah, fucking annoying," Jamie laments.

"It's fucking adorable," Roy says.

"Is not," Jamie says. "Me being stupid afraid is not adorable."11

"It's a trauma reaction, Jamie," Roy tells him. "PTSD shit. You can't predict what triggers that shit. You know that. I think it's adorable because it means even when you aren't worried about what is going on, part of your brain is still making sure I'm not dying."

"Well, it doesn't feel adorable," Jamie sighs. Move until he can tuck his head into Roy's neck. Roy holds him close.

"I'm sure it doesn't," Roy agrees. "But we can work on it. If it's trauma-based, then it'll get better in time."

"Except it could fucking happen again," Jamie points out.

"And we'll fucking deal with it again if it does."

"Roy," Jamie moves to get up. And Roy lets him because he knows Jamie does not do well if he can't move.

"Jamie," Roy says back, and it somehow sounds like a challenge, and Jamie doesn't know what to say now. Roy shakes his head and disappears into his bathroom. He tosses something Jamie catches on muscle memory alone. Jamie looks down, and it's another EpiPen.

"There, and there's a new one in the glove box, and Gayle got two more for Nelson Road. They already have them for public first aid. One is in my desk, and the other is in the treatment room now too. Does that make you feel better?"

"It does a bit," Jamie says.

"Just a bit?"

"Means you took what I said seriously," Jamie says.

"Of fucking course I did," Roy says as he starts to put on a pair of pants. "Did you think I would just shrug it off?"

"Maybe," Jamie says as he gets partially dressed.

"Well, I didn't because it fucking sucked for me but also for you and Phoebe. And the team."

"You also could have fucking died," Jamie says flatly, and Roy goes over to him and pulls him close.

"But I didn't because of you. And I'll try and make sure it won't happen again. Can't fucking guarantee anything, but I will try because I don't want any of you to worry."

"I'm going to worry, just like you do," Jamie says. "Because I care."

"And it blows my fucking mind you do," Roy admits.

"Fuck it," Jamie says and drags Roy towards the ensuite. "We're going to shower, then getting food, and then get fucking dirty again."

"Sounds good to me."

#tw: allergic reactions #tw: Content warning: Allergic Reactions #tw: Hospitals #tw: needles #tw: epipens #tw: medical emergencies #tw: ptsd #tw: trauma reactions #tw: anaphylaxis #roy kent #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt #jamie x roy #roy x jamie #royjamie #phoebe kent #phoebe o'sullivan #phoebe ted lasso

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willwood-lyrics · 9 months

Text

You settle into a new mind

In a Philippine tub ring paradise of a queen Size suite of a window micro telecon A lodge red roof in nights in super Eight whatever else outside Richmond Virginia I curled up an old Showtime softcore porno and Flipped through my phone for a few hours Picked up a bag of Swedish Fish and a Fistful of chocolate covered cherries And a pack Of Marlboro next for three dollars and ninety Cents the bodega by the waffle house I spun my eyes over the Beautiful floral arrangements blooming And tessellating in the stucco on the walls Anything I figured to keep my mind off those Goosebumps that were rising and squeaking and Cracking and quacking and threatening Anaphylaxis and asphyxiation with Every sharp inhale that I took with the Thread of Stevens-Johnson Syndrome behind My flesh and I watched as my skin crawled upwards To form a flesh noose to hang me from The rafters of that place I had found Myself in and I watched as my epidermis took On the shape of whatever I feared The most in that moment and I sat there Down in that fly trap ashtray contemplating My next move and weighing out the pros And cons of every last rotten pulse! It was either Wilmington North Carolina Or the nearest hospital!

#will wood #will wood lyrics #will wood and the tapeworms lyrics #will wood and the tapeworms #the real will wood #blackboxwarrant #this is actually the one off of the real will wood oh my god you guys #that's four versions of this interlude thing now

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willalove75 · 11 months

Text

New Girl on the Pitch Pt. 6

Pairing: Rebecca Welton x f!reader

Summary: Your friend Keeley brings you in as the team's social media manager, Rebecca is impressed, in more ways than one.

Words:

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: flirty, fluff, slow burn, smut

Notes: Part 6! This is a little bit of a shorter, one-off chapter! You and Rebecca head to the South of France for a getaway during the off season. I wasn't planning on making this so smutty but oh wellll! So enjoy the fluffy smut!

You've never been to the south of France before, or anywhere in France for that matter, but you're convinced that it's heaven on Earth. Rebecca rented a "beach house" aka a massive mansion for your trip and you've both been having the time of your lives. You both agreed that as soon as you step off of the plane, the outside world disappears. No work, no social media, no talk of football or the players, the only thing the both of you want to do is be as present with each other as possible. The trip couldn't have come at a better time, Richmond was relegated at the end of the last season and with the new season coming up in a few weeks, the stress was starting to get to the both of you. The two of you have been in France for a few days already and you've done a lot of exploring and sightseeing. Today's agenda was to relax, to be with each other and hang out.

"Y/n, come in here!" Rebecca calls to you from the bedroom.

"One sec!"

You walk into the bedroom and Rebecca has a small box in her hand and gives it to you.

"Oh, what's this?" You ask, taking the box.

"A fun little surprise." Rebecca says with a smirk.

"Uh-huh," you say acknowledging the look in her eyes. Inside the box you see a pair of black panties. "What is this?"

"Put them on!"

Playfully rolling your eyes, you take off your underwear and put the new pair on. Rebecca pulls out her phone and a second later you feel a vibration on your clit. The sensation takes you by surprise and you moan, your knees going weak for a moment.

"I fucking knew it." You gasp. "Rebecca Welton!" You say as she brings the vibration up again.

Rebecca walks up to you and just barely brushes her lips against yours.

"Do you like your present?" She whispers.

Just as you're about to respond she increases the vibration again. "Yes." You moan.

She kisses your neck, as you go to grab onto her waist she pulls away and you let out a whine in opposition.

"Would you look at that, it's just about lunch time." Rebecca says, looking at her empty wrist. She walks away into the kitchen.

"You're such a tease!" You whine the last word of your sentence because Rebecca spiked the vibration and you hear her chuckle.

In the kitchen Rebecca is making lunch, you lean on the island and watch her, biting your bottom lip. Both of you decided today was a clothes-optional day. You decided to hang out in your underwear and a cropped t-shirt and Rebecca has been walking around in one of her lacy bras and pajama shorts. She turns around, catching you checking her out and smirks at you.

"You're just going to torture me all day aren't you?"

"Maybe I will, maybe I'll be nice, who knows?" She playfully replies, putting a plate down in front of you.

Rebecca carefully watches you as you eat, just as you're bringing the fork to your lips she pulses the vibration, forcing you to drop the fork back onto your plate.

"Fuck!" You cry. "You're so mean!"

After a painfully slow lunch, Rebecca sits on the couch and you lay your head in her lap. She gently brushes her fingers through your hair as she gently plays with the vibration, slowly increasing the intensity and slowly decreasing it. Every time you feel an orgasm beginning to build, she takes it away, you try your hardest to focus on the television but you're starting to lose your mind.

"Getting restless love?" Rebecca asks, glancing down at you.

"Yes." You grumble.

Rebecca lets out a laugh and kisses your forehead and you pout.

"Oh what's the matter my love?" She asks playfully.

"You know damn well what the problem is!" You try to look mad but the shockwaves being sent through your body give you more of a desperate look than a mad one.

"Come on, lets go lay outside." She says lifting your head off of her lap and taking your hand.

You follow her outside and she pulls you down next to her on one of the lounge chairs. The mansion is fairly secluded with a stunning view over the town and the water but there aren't any other nearby houses for miles.

Rebecca plays with the vibration more, increasing the speed of the waves. You bite down on your lip trying to hold back the moan, you know no one can hear you, but being outside makes you feel vulnerable.

Rebecca's finger slides under your chin, pulling up so you can look into her eyes.

"Let me hear you baby." She says, upping the intensity. Your eyes roll back and you let out a moan.

"Fuck, Rebecca." You whine as your orgasm builds.

"Good girl." She coos, placing a light kiss on your lips.

You deepen the kiss when she raises the vibration, moaning into her mouth, tangling your fingers into her hair. She adjusts on the chair so you're both facing each other. Rebecca slides her thigh between your legs and presses up against your heat, making the vibrations more intense. Grabbing onto her tighter you moan into her more as your orgasm builds, you start to grind on her leg and she grinds back, slowly increasing the vibrations once more.

A knot builds in your belly as you grow desperate for the release. Rebecca pulls her lips away from yours and begins to suck on your neck, your moans ringing out into the open air.

"Fuck baby, I'm so close."

"I know baby, I know, just a little more." She says, raising the intensity of the vibration.

Your hips begin to buck on her leg and she presses harder into you making you see stars.

"Oh my god I'm gonna cum." You cry.

"Not yet baby, hold on for just a little longer."

The knot in your belly increases and you feel yourself starting to clench around nothing as your whines get louder, trying desperately to hold on.

"You're doing so well baby, just like that." She quickens the pace of the wave, the vibrations intensity at its highest.

"Becca- baby- I'm gonna- please!" You cry out.

"You're such a good girl, cum for me baby, let it out." She whispers as she sucks hard on your pulse point.

"FUCK!"

Your eyes roll back and your body shakes as you scream, grinding hard on Rebecca's leg she keeps up the intensity making you ride it out.

Aftershocks rock your body as you twitch against her trying to catch your breath.

Rebecca pulls you in for a deep kiss while you recover, you feel the sweat drip down your back as you roll into her.

"Come on," she says, pulling away from you. "Lets cool off."

She stands up and pulls down her shorts and thong that matches her bra, she reaches behind her back and unclips her bra, letting it fall off to the ground. Reaching out to grab your hand, you reach out and let her help you off of the lounge chair. You pull off your shirt, not bothering to put on your bra this morning, and pull off the drenched panties. She leads you into the pool, the cool water soothing your burning skin. Wrapping your arms around Rebecca's neck and legs around her waist, she holds you tight as you two float in the water.

The two of you gaze into each others eyes, her green eyes sparkle so beautifully in the sun, even when she has to squint. You tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and caress her cheek with your thumb, studying the details of her face.

"I love you, Rebecca."

"I love you too, y/n."

Your lips gently meet, you feel her wrap her arms tighter around you and your fingers tighten their grip around the back of her head. Her tongue flicks across yours when they meet and you gently moan into her mouth. You feel her smile into the kiss as it slows, once more staring into each others eyes when your lips finally part.

"Is this real life?" You ask, staring into her eyes.

"I think so. There's only one way to find out." You see a mischievous look in her eyes and you realize she's walking back towards the deep end of the pool.

"Oh my god no!" You squeal, holding onto her tighter.

Rebecca tightens her grip around you and pulls you under the water with her as she slides down the drop. Her strong legs walk you both back up, breaking through the surface. After you take a breath the two of you burst into laughter as you cling to her.

You hold her tight and you feel her place wet kisses on your neck.

"You are SO mean!" You say between laughs.

Rebecca only responds with kissing you once more, smiling as her lips meet yours. You rest your forehead against hers, you feel the water droplets running down your face as you nuzzle your nose against hers.

"Can I tell you a secret?" You quietly say.

Rebecca looks into your eyes.

"Not only do I love you more than I've ever loved anyone before in my life, but you're also my best friend. There's no one else I'd rather be here with than you."

You notice a shift in Rebecca's eyes, almost similar to how they shifted when you first told her you loved her. She brings her hand to the back of your head and pulls you into her.

"Don't tell Sass, but you're my best friend too. I love you so much y/n. I hope one day I'm able to show you how much you truly mean to me."

The two of you float, holding each other close in a peaceful silence.

Some times passes and you get out of the pool and walk over to the outdoor shower and quickly shower. You sigh as Rebecca's fingers scratch at your scalp when she massages the shampoo into your hair. After you dry off you go back inside and get ready for dinner. A car comes and picks you up and brings you to a fancy restaurant.

The two of you enjoy your meal with a few glasses of wine. Most of the night you found yourself captivated by her gorgeous eyes, even when you weren't paying attention you always found yourself with a smile on your face as you listened to her talk.

Back at the house after dinner the two of you curl into each other in bed. With her head on your chest, you run your hair through Rebecca's blond locks, placing soft kisses on the top of her head and temples as the two of you talk about nothing in particular. Her responses become slower and slower until she stops responding all together. You hear her breathing even out and you know she's fallen asleep. Carefully adjusting yourself under her you place a kiss on her forehead.

"Good night Rebecca. I love you."

#rebecca welton x reader #hannah waddingham #willalove75 #rebecca welton #rebecca welton fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso fic

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littlesugarwords · 10 months

Note

alright lemme know if you don’t wanna do that but season three group reacting to David accidentally killing javi? got the idea from that one game over screen in ep5

OH DAMN

David: David had been angry. No, he’d been livid. And seeing Javi cozier with his family than he had ever been? It fueled his rage even more. He had pulled out the gun as a threat, as a means of reestablishing his power both in Richmond, and in their family dynamic. He only wanted to get him to back down. To listen. To respect David as the tried and true leader. But his finger slipped, and the gun roared, and suddenly, splatter from his brother’s forehead hit his shirt and face. Then, Javi was on the ground. The screams and cries echoed from all around him, as though he wasn’t really present; as though he was watching a movie. It was an out of body experience, making that big of a mistake. “David, how could you?” Kate roared. She ran up, punching him angrily in the chest before Tripp pulled her away. Her attention turned to that of Gabe and Mariana’s; Javi’s limp body on the ground, watching him take his last breaths. Fuck. Fuck. It was the only thing passing through David’s head. He had killed his brother. His only brother. Everything was all his fault.

Kate: Kate screamed the moment the BANG! roared through the air. Her hands slapped over her mouth, her heart stopping entirely as she watched the scene play out in front of her. Just as David slammed his foot on the ground, his finger hit the trigger, firing a bullet straight through Javi’s forehead, forcing him onto the ground. “Javi” It was the only thing she could say, slipping shakily out of her lips. She wobbled forward, about to collapse herself. Her legs felt weak. She felt like her body was suffocating, every inch of it. “Javi?” She finally knelt down beside him, staring into his lifeless eyes, and studying his still chest. “Javi? Javi?” Her voice became more and more distressed the more he didn’t answer. She knew he was gone. She just couldn’t stomach it. “Javi, no!” For the first time since the apocalypse began, she felt really, truly, alone. “No no no no no,” she whispered under her breath, holding each side of his pale face, trying to soak up every last bit of warmth his body had to offer before it was all gone. “I can’t lose you too,” she whispered through sobs.

Eleanor: Eleanor felt his stomach twist when David pulled out the gun. She lifted up her hands, as if trying to generate peace. “Woah, David, we can--” She wasn't able to finish. Before she had a chance, the gun fired, the bullet ripped through Javier’s throat, and he was down on the ground. It had all happened so quickly, it took Eleanor a beat to even understand what had happened. Why Javi was on the ground. Why he was bleeding so severely. Finally, Kate’s scream and Gabe’s wails snapped her out of it. She darted to his side, waving the others away. “Give me some room,” she said softly, leaning in, listening for a heartbeat. She knew it was useless, but she needed to do something. She couldn’t just stand there in horror. She needed to try. At least then, she could say she did. Her eyes began to cloud over with tears as she attempted to stop the bleeding, take a pulse, do anything. Eventually her tears began falling freely, her voice shaking from sobs. “Javi, come on, man. Stay with me.” But she knew he was gone. It was too late.

Tripp: Tripp’s hands tightened into fist when he realised what was going to happen. “David don--” The shot was fired before Tripp even had a chance. He reached his hand out, wanting to lea for the gun, but wasn’t fast enough. The bullet ripped from the gun and landed straight into Javi’s chest. The moment he saw it, Tripp knew it was over. He lowered his hand, it tossed down to his side in defeat as Javi collapsed, a hand on his chest, the life draining out of him on the ground. Tripp closed his eyes and sighed, pressing his fingers into his eyes. David just stood; still and horrified. “I’m--” “Shut it, David.” Tripp snapped, finally opening his eyes. “Get the hell out of here. Right now.” David hadn’t ever seen Tripp this stern, this rattled, this angry. “Get the fuck out of here.” Tripp said again, louder and more aggravated this time. The sound of weeping and sobbing bounced off of every wall. Tripp stood in front of the grieving family, keeping eyes on David as he wandered away until he was fully ot of sight. Mari, Kate, and Gabe didn’t need him nearby. Not right now. Not after what he did.

Gabe: Gabe could feel his stomach drop. For a moment, he felt as though he was weightless - floating in place rather than existing. He felt like he was outside of his body, watching as Javi crumpled to the ground. David had pulled out his gun as a threat, demanding for Javi to back off. When he didn’t, David got frustrated. His finger slipped, and it fired. Directly through Javi’s throat, rendering him speechless, waiting for death. “No!” Gabe screamed, lunging forward and collapsing onto his knees, laying beside Javi’s limp body on the ground. “Javi! Javi, please!” Gabe could barely breathe due to how hard he was crying. For so long, Javi raised him. He taught him more about being a man than David ever did. More than David ever could. David put his gun away, hands up as though protesting. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean--” “Shut up!” Gabe screamed. He had never raised his voice at his father in his entire life before. “I hate you!” He didn’t care if walkers came to their location due to the noise, he could care less. All he could do was lay his forehead on Javi’s still chest, and weep into the bloodied fabric.

Mariana: Mariana screamed. It was all she could think to do, but it was still muffled by the BANG of the gun. “No! Javi, No!” Mariana flew herself forward, reaching Javi just as he hit the ground. He groaned and squirmed, blood pooling around his head and shoulders. “Javi, please. Please stay. We need you,” Mariana could see her tears falling, crashing onto his shirt and face. Every time one landed, she brushed it away. With her hand on one of his cheeks, she could feel how warm his cheeks were. Knowing they would only get colder was devastating. “It’s okay,” Javi wheezed, his eyes beginning to cloud over. “Stay safe.” Those were the last words to escape his lungs before his chest collapsed, all the air leaving his lungs, and his body giving in to the concrete. Mariana wailed. Louder than she had ever cried at anything before. She clung to his shirt, begging for him to stay. “Javi, no! Please!” She felt as though she was going to pass out. She couldn't breathe. Her chest physically ached. This really did feel like the end.

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 💌☕️♡

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