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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 1 year

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Superstar (Superstar Chapter 1)

I'm no one special, just another wide-eyed girl

Who's desperately in love with you

Give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar

The Reader is thrilled to start a new job at AFC Richmond- especially since it means working with a certain player-turned-coach.

Roy Kent x Reader

2.7k words

Warnings: language (because Roy Kent); I’m a bit rusty so forgive my writing!

A/N: Been having some horribly bad writer’s block in addition to work stress. Thankfully my man Roy Kent helped me finally break through!!!

“Well, there she is!” Coach Ted Lasso waved enthusiastically as I parked my car in the staff lot. Next to him stood Rebecca Welton, who offered the tiniest of waves and something of an apologetic smile.

I took a deep breath, my hand hovering over the driver’s side door. First day on the new job: coach’s assistant. Between three coaches, there was a lot going on; they needed someone to handle communication, schedules, and small tasks so they could focus on training and (hopefully) winning. Having grown up just around the corner from Nelson Road, it felt almost like an honor to be part of the organization.

In a blur, Ted had firmly shaken my hand for what felt like an eternity, yammered off about a dozen Lasso-isms that I wasn’t quite sure I heard correctly, and ushered me into the building, all with Rebecca following along, interjecting short corrections and reassurances every time Ted paused to take a breath.

“And this here’s the locker room,” Ted announced with a small flourish. “Now, the boys tend to be pretty modest, the only one you may see too much of is Jamie, but if you just throw a towel in his face, he’ll take the hint.” He opened the door, gesturing for me to follow.

Rebecca touched my arm gently, that tight smile still on her face. “I should be going. But please, let me know if there’s anything you need. You’re in great hands,” she added, nodding towards Ted. “Welcome to Richmond.” With another touch to my arm, she was gone.

I followed Ted into the changing room. A few guys were milling about, still in their street clothes, chattering and beginning to put their things away. They looked up when I entered, offering small nods of acknowledgement. Ted rattled off their names, all familiar to me. I made mental notes about how each one smiled and shook my hand, trying to take snapshots in my brain so I could describe every moment to my family later that night.

After meeting all the players that Ted called “early birds”, I followed Ted into the coaches’ offices, where I was quickly introduced to Coach Beard, who nodded from behind a tattered copy of Either/Or.

“Now, Coach Beard and I share this office,” Ted was explaining. “You’ll be right through here. Hope ya don’t mind sharing!” He led me through the side door to another office. “I’m sure you know this ray of sunshine here is Roy Kent.”

My stomach jumped to my throat as the man in black track pants and a dark Richmond shirt glanced up from his desk. As if I really needed to be introduced to the man whose poster still hung above the bed in my childhood bedroom. Several kits sporting his name and number hung in my closet. Hell, for one birthday my jokester dad even got me a cardboard cutout of the man. It currently sat folded in the back of a closet in my flat, but it often made an appearance in my living room when I hosted game day parties with my mates.

I was pretty sure if I dug far enough in my parents’ attic, I’d find my school notebooks with “Mrs. Roy Kent” scribbled all over them.

And now he sat in front of me, staring up at me through thick eyelashes that made me go weak in the knees. A half scowl appeared on his face. “You’re the assistant then?” He offered his hand.

I nodded, praying that neither coach could see my body trembling slightly as I reached out to shake Roy Kent’s hand. “I- I am.”

Ohmygod ohmygod I’m shaking Roy Kent’s hand I’m touching Roy Kent Roy Kent spoke to me Roy Kent is looking at me ohmygod ohmygod.

It felt far too soon when he let go of my hand. “Well, as long as you keep your shit off my desk and don’t wear any rancid perfume, we should be fucking fine.” He nodded behind him toward an empty desk. “That’s you.” Without another word, he stood up, grabbed the notebook he had been drawing in, and left.

Ted beamed at me. “Well now, that went great! That’s about as charming as you can expect Roy to be, so count yourself lucky. Now, why don’t you get yourself settled and we’ll see you in the locker room in about ten minutes?”

“D’you like kebabs?”

I turned my head, pausing my fingers above my keyboard. “Excuse me?”

With a giant sigh, Roy swiveled around in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Kebabs. D’you like ’em?”

“Uh, I guess.” I scrunched my nose as I stared at him. After two weeks of working for Richmond, this was the first time Roy had spoken to me so directly. Up until now, it had been mostly grunts and growls in my general direction. But, after years of watching him on the pitch, I knew by the look in his eye that he didn’t hate me- at least, not any more than he hated the rest of the world. And that was fine enough with me.

“You guess?” There was that scowl. “You either fuckin’ like ‘em or you don’t.”

It took all my strength to suppress my grin. God, he was just as gorgeous as when I used to watch him play on the television. “Fine, fine. I like kebabs.”

With a suddenness that almost made me jump in my seat, Roy stood up. “Okay.” Without another word, he walked out of our office.

About twenty minutes later, a Styrofoam container slammed onto my desk. I looked up at Roy, who towered over me, a plastic bag clutched in his fist. He glowered at me.

“Thanks, Roy,” I managed, opening the box. Sure enough, kebabs. I smiled up at him, but his eyes were scanning my desk.

“That your family?” He pointed at a frame that held a photo my family had taken during a camping trip.

“Oh, yeah. My folks and brothers. They live not far from here. We grew up huge Richmond fans.”

His eyes continued to roam my work area. “What, no pictures of your boyfriend? Is he fuckin’ ugly or somethin’?”

My cheeks heated up. “No boyfriend.” Somewhere inside me, boldness surged forward. “What about you? I don’t see your model of the week on your desk.”

He smirked. Ohmygod he smirked. “I’m too fucking old for that shit now.”

“Uh huh.” I couldn’t make myself say anything else. All I could see was that smirk, and those brown eyes. Until I realized he was waiting for me to say something. Speak, you idiot! “I like kebabs,” I blurted. Shit.

The smirk softened slightly. “So I heard.”

For a moment he just stood there, smiling down at me. Then he cleared his throat, glancing at the bag in his hand. “Don’t tell anyone I got you lunch. They’ll be trying to make me some fuckin’ errand boy if they find out.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

With a small hmmf, Roy nodded and headed back to his desk. I smiled down at the container on my desk and returned to my work, ignoring my burning cheeks.

“What does Jamie Tartt smell like?”

“Is the gaffer really like that in person?”

“Did you pass out when you met Roy Kent?”

Swallowing the bite of pasta I had been chewing on, I grinned at my family. “Tartt wears a homemade combo of Tom Ford, Dior, and Juicy Couture that he calls ‘Tartt by Tartt’. Coach Lasso is exactly what he seems. And Roy Kent…” I cleared my throat and prayed my face wasn’t completely red. “He’s fine.” My voice cracked slightly. “We, uh share an office. He got me kebabs for lunch last week.”

“Come off it,” I scoffed. “Or else I’ll take back those VIP tickets I got you for your birthday.”

“Ooh, Roy Kent bought you kebabs?” my dad hummed, grinning at me pointedly. “My future son-in-law, the football superstar.”

Before my dad could retort, the doorbell rang. I jumped up, relieved to have a distraction.

“I’ve got it!” I just about sprinted down the hall to the front door, confident it was our elderly neighbor asking to borrow the spare key, as she did at least once a week. Instead, when I threw the door open, I found Roy Kent on my parents’ front porch.

“We should really put a fucking tracking device on you,” he grumbled as he moved past me into the entryway.

I stared at him, closing the door. “Um, not to be rude, but why are you here? At my mum and dad’s house?”

He shoved a manila envelope into my hands. “Some papers Lasso wanted you to work on if you can this weekend. Said it was important. I dunno, I don’t fucking listen to him when he yammers.”

“Oh.” I placed the envelope on a nearby table and folded my arms. “And how-how did you know where I was?”

Roy wiggled his phone in the air. “You’re one of those idiots that has their Snapchat locations on. You’re gonna get fucking murdered one of these days y’know.”

Right. Ted had made us all join multiple Snapchat groups with him; he was adamant about keeping our streaks.

I couldn’t help but grin. “And you’re gonna murder me?”

“Not today.” A small smirk cracked through that grizzled face. “But apparently if I wanted to, you’d be easy as hell to find.”

“I’ll just have to keep being a good officemate then,” I supposed teasingly. Am I flirting with Roy Kent?!

“You’re doing a fine job so far.” Roy took a step towards me, looking down at me.

Is he flirting back?!

My brain short-circuited. “Um, well I…” I coughed, looking around the entryway, as if I hadn’t walked through it my entire life. “Thanks for uh, bringing those papers.” A question interrupted the high-pitched buzzing in my brain. “Why’d you bring it by the way?”

Roy cleared his throat and took a step back, allowing a respectful space between us again. “Told you, Lasso said it’s important.”

“Yeah…” I started slowly. “But I’m sure it’s something you guys could’ve sent Will to do. Or something Ted would probably love to do, tracking me down to my dad’s birthday dinner. Why are you-?”

“He’s here! He’s there! He’s every-fucking-where! Roy Kent!” Beaming, my dad burst past me and clapped a hand on Roy’s shoulder as Roy stared at him with wide eyes. “Oh hell, Roy Kent’s in my foyer!” He turned and faced me. “I can’t believe you got Roy Kent to come down here! You’re my favorite kid, you can tell your bloody brothers that anytime.” He grabbed Roy’s hand and started pumping it, reminding me of the first time I had met Ted. “It’s an honor to have you here. Absolute honor.”

I finally found my voice. “Dad, Roy’s just here giving me some stuff for work. He’s not here for your-”

“What kind of cake do you have?” Roy’s gruff voice interrupted.

“Chocolate,” my dad answered. “M’wife made it herself. And we have plenty of pasta if you’re hungry.”

Roy unzipped his jacket. “Then happy fucking birthday. Let’s eat.”

A half hour later, I was still in a state of shock. Roy Kent was sitting next to me in my parents’ dining room, chatting with my dad and eating my mum’s pasta. He took all everyone’s questions in stride, not seeming to mind how obsessed my brothers were. He only growled at them twice- once when they asked about his knee, and again when they said how much they like Jamie Tartt. Of course, they made kissy faces whenever Roy wasn’t looking, and my mum kept raising her eyebrows at me with a twinkle in her eye, but the dinner was much less painful that I had expected.

And getting to sit there with Roy’s arm pressed against mine? A dream come true.

My dad cleared his throat as my brothers began clearing the plates. “I think it’s time for presents and cake then?”

I stood up; my arm felt cold after having Roy’s arm keeping it warm. “I’ll be right back, gotta go get your present.” I pressed a kiss on my dad’s head as I passed by. “Don’t embarrass me,” I hissed, giving his shoulder a squeeze. He offered me an assuring wink.

I quickly went up the stairs to my old bedroom, not completely closing the door behind me. Since I was planning to spend all weekend a their house, I had just haphazardly thrown all my things into the room when I had arrived after work. I regretted it now, noting that my idiot brothers could be saying anything to Roy while I searched for the envelope holding my dad’s birthday card and the tickets to Richmond’s next match.

I groaned. “Where the hell-”

“Ah, this isn’t the fucking loo.”

I whirled around. Roy stood in my doorway, eyebrows slightly raised as he glanced around the room. My cheeks burned as I watched him take in all the Richmond posters, which disproportionately featured his bearded face.

He is never going to talk to me again, a panicky voice in my head whimpered.

To my surprise, a small smirk formed on his face as he quietly closed the door behind him. “Why the fuck are there so many pictures of me in this room?” he asked, a chuckle escaping his lips.

I cleared my throat and stood up, straightening out my top as I cursed my teenage self for being so obsessed. “I, uh, I told you. My family’s huge Richmond fans. You’re kind of our favorite player. Hence, my dad’s excitement when he saw you.” I winced. Lame, lame, lame.

“So…” He stuck his hands in his pockets, still looking around the room at the embarrassing number of photos of himself. “Does that mean I’m your favorite too?”

Somehow, my cheeks grew warmer. “I… I mean… I guess.”

His eyes moved upward and widened slightly.

Fuck.

“Is that a fucking poster of me above your bed?”

I shifted my weight, wishing that somehow the carpet beneath me would spontaneously turn into a black hole. “Oh, you know, gotta keep the monsters away somehow.” You’re fired. You are so freaking fired for being a creepy fangirl.

Roy let out a bark of a laugh. “That’s what I’m good for? Scaring away fucking monsters?”

With a groan, I covered my face and collapsed on my bed. “Please don’t tell anyone,” I grumbled. “This was my room when I used to live here, I was a dumb kid. I swear to God, my flat is normal. A normal adult flat.”

The bed squeaked as I felt someone sit beside me. When I peeked out between my fingers, Roy was looking at me with a hint of concern on his face.

“Hey, no need to be fucking embarrassed.” He glanced up at the poster that now laid directly above us. “Can’t say I blame you. I was young and hot.”

Despite my inner anguish, I moved my hands and grinned. “You’re not that much older now, Kent,” I teased.

He raised his eyebrows at me. “I’m still hot then?”

Before I could come up with some clever retort, Roy cupped my face and leaned close. “Please say yes,” he said softly.

I gulped, knowing he could definitely feel it. “Yes,” I whispered.

He gently pressed his lips against mine, a soft, small kiss that made me melt closer to him. His beard tickled my face as his hand stroked my cheek. Roy Kent is kissing me Roy Kent is kissing me Roy Kent is kissing me.

When Roy let go, a tiny giggle escaped my lips. He smiled at me- a real smile, the one I had seen maybe a small handful of times on television over the years. He opened his mouth to say something-

“Oi!” A loud knock banged on the door. “Mum and Dad want to know if you’re snogging Roy Kent in there!”

Roy grinned at me, still holding my face. “Don’t suppose I can tell your brother to fuck off?”

I wrinkled my nose. “’d rather you didn’t,” I whispered.

“Well then.” Roy stood up, stretching out his hand to help me to my feet. “Guess we should go have some fucking cake.” He nodded up towards the poster above my bed. “You should bring that thing to work sometime. I can fucking autograph it if you want.”

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

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beallright · 24 days

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Gwen Stefani ♡ photographed by Jamie Nelson for PAPER Magazine 2021 (outtakes)

#gwen stefani #edit #gwenstefaniedit #gstefaniedit #dailywomanedit #flawlessbeautyqueens #thequeensofbeauty #blogmusicdaily #popqueensdaily #alternativequeens #breathtakingqueens #glamoroussource #no doubt #coachella #coachella 2024

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alwritey-aphrodite · 10 months

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Putting Roots In My Dreamland

Chapter Three of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: here’s the Jamie I promised :) another shoutout to @buckychristwrites for helping me out when my brain shuts down

When you wake up on Sunday, body sore and head aching and mouth dry, you vow to never drink again. You wonder what had possessed you to make plans for today when you knew exactly what your night was going to be like as soon as your locker room celebration started. At some point, everyone had made their way from Nelson Road to a club, and it was all downhill from there.

Luckily for you, Jamie was in the same boat as you and was hopefully regretting his decisions just as much as you were. Though, knowing how unfair the world is, you’re sure he feels fresh as a daisy right now. He’s probably been up for hours and had time to make himself some sort of healthy, superfood smoothie before doing an intense workout followed by a shower with a complex hair and skincare routine, because he was insufferable like that.

You, meanwhile, were wondering how you’re able to stand on your own, let alone play a full football match. You’re reminded of the creeping end of your career, coming much faster than it should, so you throw yourself into the shower just so you have something else to think about. The warm water soothes your muscles and your overactive brain until you’re actually looking forward to spending the day with Jamie.

The shower takes longer than it typically would, mainly due to how long you just stand under the stream of water without doing anything, simply letting the water wash over your body as you psych yourself up for the day ahead of you. It wasn’t that Jamie made you nervous, but spending time with new people, getting to know new friends, was always a little nerve inducing for you. You and Jamie had only spoken a handful of times and never for any longer than five minutes, so the thought of spending a whole day with just him made your stomach flip.

After spending far too long in the shower, you check your phone to see a message from Mackie, along with plenty of pictures. You groan as you scroll through them, confronting your decisions from the night before. They aren’t bad pictures, and you’re surprised at how good of a photographer Mackie is even though she had just as much to drink as you did.

In all of them, you look exuberantly happy, your mouth wide open in a grin or mid-laugh with a drink in one hand and the other slung around the shoulder of a teammate or one of the boys. You’ve been happy, but it’s been a while since you’ve seen it, since you were able to look at your own face and see the joy so clearly written on it. Even just looking back makes you smile, until you get a text from Jamie and your stomach fills with nerves.

He’s sent you an address, asking if you want to meet at a coffee shop around noon so he can show you around Richmond, and you don’t even remember giving him your number.

Can’t wait! You reply, even though you’d love nothing more than to wait and spend the rest of your day lounging in front of your TV and eating nothing but comfort foods. Instead, you finish getting ready before standing in front of your closet and taking far too long to settle on an outfit. You know you’ve already met and that you’ve literally tackled the man, but you still want to make a good first impression outside of Nelson Road, outside of whatever you said or did last night.

All you hope is that you didn’t embarrass yourself too much.

You decide to walk to the cafe, knowing the fresh air will help you calm your nerves more than driving on the confusing London streets would. To your shock, Jamie is already sitting there when you arrive with fifteen minutes to spare. Even from a distance, you can see the way he alternates between checking the time on his phone and pushing his hair out of his face, the headband he wears at Nelson Road nowhere to be seen.

When he finally spots you coming towards him, he launches himself out of his chair and rushes forward to meet you halfway. He’s wearing dark colored pants and a nice button-up instead of the matching tracksuit you’d been expecting and looks nowhere near as hungover as you feel. He looks like he’s been up since the sunrise and went on a run just because he wanted to, and it makes you momentarily hate him just a little until he smiles at you and you’re reminded that he’s really just a boy who happens to be a professional footballer.

Pleasantries are exchanged as you both take a seat, and you can’t help the way your eyes drift from the menu in your hands to his face, the way he’s pouting slightly as he thinks and pushes his hair away from his face in what you assume is a nervous habit, something to keep his hands busy. It’s endearing in a way that makes you want to stand and run and never leave your house again.

After the two of you order, the conversation stills and the silence becomes awkward and you have no idea what to say. It’s not like you can ask him about himself, because your guilty pleasure is trashy tabloids and you’ve read more of his interviews with well-known papers than you’d like to admit. Jamie doesn’t seem all that eager to break the silence either and there’s been a furrow in his brow since you sat down, so you take it upon yourself to get the ball rolling.

“Thanks for offering to show me around, I really appreciate it,” you say, setting down your utensils as you finish eating, “I feel like I haven’t done anything except train since I got here.” And really, you weren’t wrong; you’d gone to the grocery store and stopped at a coffee shop with Mackie after practice one day, but other than that you haven’t been anywhere except Nelson Road and your house, and you’ve already been in Richmond for more than a month.

“Yeah,” he nods along as you speak before he adds, “I’ve been here a lot longer than you and I still don’t really know Richmond that well.” You can’t help the confusion that clouds your face as the man who offered to show you around Richmond admits that he doesn’t know the area and Jamie notices immediately so he scrambles to add, “I know a lot of places! Just not everywhere, but I’ve got my favorites.”

It’s becoming more and more difficult not to smile when you’re around him, there’s just something about him that makes you feel so open in a way you haven’t experienced since you met Mackie. He’s attentive, listening to everything you have to say with his full attention, nodding along as you answer questions about your favorite things and what you miss from back home and how you’re liking London so far.

It’s obvious that he genuinely cares about your answers, that he wants to hear what you have to say, and you can’t remember the last time anyone paid attention to you like that and it makes your skin prickle in a way that isn’t completely unpleasant.

The two of you start your tour around Richmond, questions and stories being volleyed back and forth as you walk along the streets. Jamie contributes to your conversation and he answers all your questions openly, but it’s clear that he’d rather have the focus be on you and the majority of his contributions are nods and “mhm”s thrown in when appropriate.

You can’t help but to wonder if this is how he acts with everybody or if it’s just because you’ve really only just met or if he’s regretting offering to show you around Richmond. You always make it a point not to talk about yourself, wanting to keep the focus on anything other than you and your life, and even though you’re not spilling out your deepest darkest secrets, you still feel exposed in ways you hadn’t expected.

“I love all the girls, and the coaches, and Keeley and Rebecca are great,” you say after Jamie asks how you’re liking Richmond so far. You know that’s probably not what he meant by that question but you can’t fathom opening up to him any other way, definitely not in the middle of a Sunday in a public park while you’re still a little hungover.

The last person you’d really, truly opened up to, shared all your deepest fears and hopes and dreams with was Mackie, and you’d been friends for almost five years now. The idea of exposing yourself, of someone truly getting to know you made your skin crawl, despite how much you’re coming to enjoy being around Jamie.

“Yeah, Keeley’s awesome, she’s one of me best mates,” he replies and you’re glad that the conversation has shifted away from you and onto someone you’d much rather talk about.

Jamie’s tour ends up being less like a tour and more like the two of you aimlessly walking around Richmond with him vaguely pointing out restaurants and shops that he likes, but you don’t mind at all. It’s much nicer than you’d expected just to talk with Jamie, and you find yourself looking forward to spending more time with him while also feeling terrified of seeming childish if you were to ask him to hang out again.

Despite your football playing strategies, you’d never been one to be exceptionally forward or confident in your personal life, so even just the idea of spending a day with Jamie seemed unbelievable. Although, he really was nothing like you’d expected.

The Jamie you were spending time with was considerate and a little awkward and told awful jokes that you couldn’t help but laugh at, and the more time you spent with him the more relaxed you became. By the time you find yourself in front of your house, you’re debating whether or not you should lie and say it isn’t your place just so you can keep walking, and you can spend a little more time talking with Jamie.

“This is me,” you say instead, throwing an arm backwards to point at your front door, “I had a really nice time today, thanks for showing me around.” You try not to smile too wide, try not to seem like a child who’s overly excited about making a new friend even though on the inside you’re practically jumping up and down.

Once you’d gotten past the fact that you were talking with the Jamie Tartt, football star, you were really just overjoyed at the idea of finally having a friend that wasn’t just a teammate, someone who you’d need to see outside of training and who’d drag you out of your house to experience life.

“Yeah, of course,” Jamie responds, his hands hovering out in front of him before he settles them into his pockets, “we’ll have to do something again sometime.”

You can’t help but to smile at Jamie and how uncharacteristically shy he seems, but when he notices you smiling, he beams back at you. You say your goodbyes before heading inside, internally debating whether or not you should have asked if he wanted to come in.

——

As Jamie watches your front door close, he takes his first deep breath of the day. It seemed like he was held together by nothing but nerves all morning, and now that he’s heading home he can finally relax. He’d been so worried about saying something dumb that he’d barely talked, choosing instead to ask you question after question to keep the conversation on any topic except himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share with you, because he really did, he just couldn’t risk ruining what was shaping up to be a comfortable friendship with his own insecurities and fears. And, he could listen to you talk for hours and hours no matter what you were saying. You could read him the dictionary and he’d sit with rapt attention the entire time, overjoyed just to be near you.

He’d been worried he’d come off too strong and scare you away, but it seemed as if you enjoyed yourself as much as he did. He can’t help the little bubble of pride that fills his chest over the idea that you enjoyed a day he’d planned, enjoyed spending time with him enough to say you wanted to meet again soon.

You'd been so different from how you were at the Dog Track, than how you are on the pitch, but Jamie doesn’t mind at all. He wants to learn everything about you, all your quirks and fears and everything you love.

Being around you feels like being punched in the chest, and Jamie can’t remember ever feeling this way about anyone, not when he met Roy Kent for the first time or when he told Keeley he loved her, but he doesn’t mind. It’s a new feeling, and it scares him a little, but it’s not a bad feeling at all. It’s like he can’t breathe around you, but he’d rather struggle for breath than never see you again.

Ever since that moment when your eyes locked your first day at Nelson Road, Jamie hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. He remembers checking Instagram every morning and night until Keeley posted the women’s team roster and then he spent hours scrolling through your page.

At first, he’d felt like a creep, like he was intruding on something private even though your page was public and you’re a professional athlete. He was careful not to like any of your old photos, careful not to do anything that would send you a notification that he was spending hours scrolling down your profile.

There were photos of you and Mackie and the rest of the US Women’s Team, there were professional photos of you at events or at photo shoots for brand deals, there were action shots of you on the pitch, but his favorite photos were the ones you’d taken yourself, selfies and group photos and pictures of your travels.

If anyone was around, Jamie would have been beyond embarrassed when he realized he was smiling as he scrolled through your photos, taking in those little aspects of you that he hadn’t gotten the chance to experience yet in your minimal contact with each other. Even more embarrassing to him was the fact that he didn’t follow you for another week, needing time to work up the nerve as if it was outlandish that he’d follow you on your public account, as if all the other players on his team weren’t already following you.

He just loved getting to see the world, see Richmond and Nelson Road from your eyes.

There’s something about you that makes him want to learn everything about you, that makes him want to spend every moment of his free time with you, that makes him want to fall asleep and wake up next to you. He’s not sure what it is yet, but he knows some of his teammates are starting to pick up on it, Sam even going so far as to call him out on his starry-eyed staring.

All he hopes is that you don’t pick up on it.

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

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #there’s nothing like this

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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glamoroussource · 1 year

Photo

Gwen Stefani photographed by Jamie Nelson for Slow Clap.

#gwen stefani #gstefaniedit #userthing #femalestunning #wonderfulwomendaily #flawlessbeautyqueens #flawlesscelebs #femaledaily #femalepopculture #dailywives #usermilf #usermusic #m!lfsource #dailymusicqueens #dailymusicians #singers #*#benny

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donutman07 · 1 month

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gwen stefani photographed by jamie nelson for paper magazine in 2021 ☆

#2000s nostalgia #90s nostalgia #2020s nostalgia #2010s nostalgia #gwen stefani #no doubt #music #paper magazine #jamie nelson

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geralt-of-baevia · 1 year

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Begin Again: Chapter Three

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Summary: When Penny starts working at AFC Richmond as their new head photographer, she catches the eye of a certain mustached, happy-go-lucky, head coach of the team. But can their spark endure through the season’s pressures and the demons of their past?

Pairing: Ted Lasso x OFC (Penny Fletcher)

Word count: 4.5k (YOWZA!)

Warnings: Drinking, flirting, etc.

A/N: Alright, I know this chapter took a while but it's a BIG one. This chapter was so much fun to write and I think you're all going to like it 😍😍😍

Beta: Thank you to @midnightswithdearkatytspb for proofreading and the AMAZING banner! I love it.

Tiny Tag List: @tegan8314 @rosesheerio @eugene-emt-roe @floralsightings @imvibin69 @justsomefunshit (Let me know if you want to get added!)

The next morning I was terrified to go to work. I paced the apartment, looking at my phone every two minutes, counting down until I had to leave.

“Penny, why are you so nervous?” Jo asked, giving me sarcastic smile. Sometimes I just really wanted to slap her. I narrowed my eyes at her, folding my arms across my chest and shifting my weight to one hip.

“Oh, I don’t know, Jolene, maybe because my colleague I fancy saw me showering naked-”

“I mean, that’s usually how you shower-”

“-so not only do I have to face Ted over that, but I’m terribly nervous about what Jamie bought as replacements…” I said, shifting my weight to my other hip. She playfully rolled her eyes at me.

“Penny, Jamie is loaded. I have no doubt that he got you only the best quality things to replace your equipment,” she told me, “Also, it's nice to finally hear you say you fancy Mr. Lasso because I thought I was going to have to waterboard you or something to get it out of you.”

I let out a big huff, finally going and deflating in the armchair as an act of defeat.

“Joey, I just can’t face Ted-”

“Would you like me to drive you to work today? I’ve got the day off so I can take you, Even walk you in if that’ll help?” she offered. I gave her an over-exaggerated pouty face, sticking my bottom lip out.

“I would wove that vewwy much,” I said in a mock baby voice. She laughed, shaking her head at me.

“Go get the car warmed up, I’ll get ready really quickly,” she said, walking over to the hallway, “keys are on the hook.”

I squealed excitedly and shot up out of my seat. “Thank you, Joey!”

My leg bounced the entire way to work, and every so often Jo would put a comforting hand on my knee to calm me.

“Honestly Penny, I think you’re making a way bigger deal of this than you need to,” she told me as we drove onto Nelson Road. My heart started nervously pounding in my chest.

“Okay, but what if he doesn’t bring it up? Do I need to? I just don’t want it to be a giant naked elephant in the room!” I exclaimed with a laugh.

“I mean, you could make it fair-”

“Jo, I don’t want to see him naked-”

“HA, that’s a lie. I know your pervy little mind,” she said as she tapped her pointer finger to her temple, “you’ve already thought of that man naked, plenty. And now probably in the shower with you…” I felt my cheeks burn hot and rosy. She wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t something I wanted to think about as I went into work and had to see him.

Jo pulled into the parking lot and parked. Once the car was off my body grew hot with anxious anticipation and I could feel my heart beating in my entire torso. We got out of the car and as I was getting my bag from the backseat, I heard my name being shouted. I looked to my left and saw Jamie approaching me, a large shopping bag in his hand.

He gave me a giant smile once he saw I had his attention. “I got the goooooooods!”

I giggled a little bit as he jogged over to us the rest of the distance.

“Jamie, thank you so so much for doing that,” I told him once he was at the car. He scoffed.

“Penny, it's the least I could do. How else are we supposed to get that wicked sliding shot?” he gave me a friendly wink and I pulled him into a hug.

“Oi, so you’re the one who broke my little bird’s camera, huh?” I heard Jo ask. Jamie pulled back from our hug and turned to Jo.

“Now Penny, why haven’t you introduced me to your gorgeous friend here?” he asked, looking Jo up and down. I looked over to her just in time to see her roll her eyes playfully.

“Jamie, this is my best mate and roommate Jo, Jo this is-”

“Jamie Tartt doo doo doo doo doo doo, oh I know who he is,” she said with a smug smile, also looking him up and down. The sudden tension between them made me feel like I shouldn’t be there.

“Well, now that this has been such a lovely and not at all awkward introduction, shall we go inside? I’m going to need to set up the camera before I do anything today,” I said with a huff. Jamie and Jo both nodded in agreeance, and we all went inside together.

We walked with Jaime to the locker room, and the closer we got the harder my heart beat in my chest, and my stomach grew sour. But to our surprise, Ted wasn’t in the coach’s office; only Coach Beard and Roy were to be found.

“Oi, where’s Coach?” Jaime asked Beard, and Beard shrugged in response.

“I’m not sure. He just said something came up last night and he wasn’t going to be able to make it today,” he explained before turning to me, “I know we were supposed to get some coach shots today, but maybe we’ll wait until next week?”

I nodded, my stomach easing a little knowing Ted wasn’t at work today. Jo nudged my side and leaned close to my ear and whispered, “I’m sure something came up alright…” I shot her a look, rolling my eyes at her.

“Is everything okay, Fletcher?” Roy asked. He had gotten in the habit of calling me by my last name. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t question it. I looked up at him from Jo and shook my head.

“No my friend Jo here was just making an inappropriate comment,” I said, looking back at her and giving her a stern stare. She stifled a laugh before turning back to Roy.

“And I’m Jolene by the way, so nice to meet you all,” she said, giving them both a small wave. Coach Beard’s eyes grew wide at the mention of her name and I giggled.

“God, I wish Ted was here so that I could have experienced you two learning her name for the first time together,” I said, causing Roy to break his stony stare and crack a small smirk.

“We’re a fun pair, huh? Best mates who are both named after famous songs. What are the odds, right?” Jo piped in.

“You’re really named after the song?” Beard asked. Jo nodded.

“My parents went through a country phase when my mom was pregnant with me,” she said with a shrug, “they had just wished I was born a red head and not a blonde.”

We all chatted for a few more minutes before Jo and I left the guys to start practice, heading out into the club to go to my uncle’s office. Once the door was shut behind us, I turned to Jo.

“Okay, but what the actual fuck was that with Jamie?” I asked with a breathy laugh. She threw her head back with a laugh.

“Oh god, nothing is going to happen with that boy. He thinks he can try, but I don’t think so,” she proclaimed proudly. I playfully rolled my eyes at her. Knowing her as long as I did, I knew when she was into someone, even if she played it cool.

We made it to our destination, and I knocked on the door after we approached it.

“Come in!” I heard Uncle Leslie say from the other side. Jo opened the door and my uncle’s face lit up when he saw us.

“Hello, Penny! And hello, Jolene! It’s been forever since I’ve seen you!” he said excitedly. He closed his laptop and placed his elbows on the desk, resting his chin on his now intertwined fingers. “How can I help you ladies?”

“Hello Mr. Higgins, it’s very nice to see you as well,” Jo said cheerfully.

“Well, I don’t know if you heard, but Jamie broke all of my camera equipment yesterday,” I said with a sigh, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and gently setting the fragile bag in front of me. He gave me a forced, flat smile.

“I did indeed. Jamie came to me after you left to ask what he should get,” he told us, “did he get the correct equipment? I only know so much about photography. But I did tell him the person at the camera store would know best.”

“I mean, honestly I haven’t even looked at it…”

I pulled over the bag that Jamie brought me and opened it up, my eyes lit up at the site of what he got me.

“Well? Is it okay?” Jo asked. I nodded as I pulled the box that had the camera body out of the bag, putting it in my lap.

“Okay? This is like, top-of-the-line stuff,” I said, looking up with a huge smile. I was in disbelief. The camera I was holding in my lap cost more than I was willing to truly consider.

After we looked over the new equipment together, I got myself set up in a corner of my uncle’s office and Jo left to go get her day started, not needing to stay any longer since Ted wasn’t here.

I spent the rest of the day setting up my camera, replying to emails, updating my computer, and catching up with my uncle. I hadn’t spent this much time with him since I was a teenager, so it was nice to reconnect with him. He was always my favorite uncle.

“Do you have any fun plans for the weekend?” my Uncle Leslie asked me as the day was finishing up. I sighed, looking at my phone to see if I had any notifcations.

“Well, I think Jo and I are going to go to the pub. She wants to celebrate my first week at my new job,” I said with a content smile. I was very much looking forward to having a couple of drinks and just shooting the shit with my best mate.

“Oh that sounds like a good time. You deserve it! You’ve honestly blown all of us away just on your first week. I’m very proud of you,” he said, a sincere grin spreading across his face.

I felt tears sting behind my eyes. Quickly I tried to blink them away, but it was no use. They spilled down over my cheeks and I hotly wiped them away.

“Thank you, Uncle Leslie. That means a lot.”

When I got home, Jo was already at least a third of the way ready for going out. I set my stuff down next to the door and she came out into the living room, toothbrush still in her mouth.

“You need to get ready,” she mumbled flatly around toothpaste.

“But it’s barely 6 o’clock,” I half whined at her. She rolled her eyes at me before heading back into the bathroom. I followed her, leaning against the doorframe as she spit into the sink.

“Well, it’s going to take you at least 30 minutes to get ready, and then we have to still get there which will probably take around the same amount of time. So we won’t even get to the pub until like 7. And we can stop at that fish shop you like before we go too,” she explained, “so in other words, get your arse ready. Please.”

I jokingly rolled my eyes at her and headed to my room to get ready. I threw on something acceptable but still comfy, an outfit that wouldn’t turn too many heads but was still sexy.

Once I was done getting ready, I went over to Jo’s room and hovered in the doorway again.

“How does this look? Yeah?” I asked before spinning to show off my outfit.

“You look fit,” she said with a cheeky grin before turning back to her mirror to finish her makeup, “if only Ted could see you…”

I scoffed at her. “Yeah, well, I’d like to forget about him for an evening and just relax, mmkay? So no mention of him from here on out.”

She turned to me again, drawing an X over her heart with her pointer finger. “I cross my heart and hope to die, I will not mention the mustached coach for the rest of the night.”

I giggled.

“You better not.”

After a train ride and a stop at the chip stand, we reached our destination. I was thankful for the little pub that Jo and I always went to. It was small and quaint, in the basement under some other business. The exposed brick walls and dim lighting made it feel homey and comfortable. We found it one night while searching for somewhere to get a drink after work when we lived in this neighborhood a few years back. One visit and we were won over, it becoming our 'usual' spot.

We ordered two pints and a shot of whisky each at the bar, and then went over and sat in a small corner booth by the fireplace. We took our shots and I quickly moved on to my beer. After downing about half of mine in one gulp, Jo shot me a disheartened look.

“Penny, you need to relax-”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” I asked with a sarcastic laugh as I gestured to my drink.

“No no, we need a toast!” she exclaimed. She raised her glass up and I followed suit.

“To Samantha Penelope Fletcher! The bird who has overcame so much shit in her 29 years and finally got her dream job!” she said with exaggerated enthusiasm, clinking our glasses together. We each took a large swig of our beers, me finishing mine.

As we set our drinks down on the table, I watched as Jo’s eyes flickered to just behind me, before returning her gaze to me. She raised her eyebrows, a mischievous expression growing on her face.

“What?” I asked. Her face slanted into a sarcastic grimace, her eyes shifting away as she took another drink of her pint.

“Jolene, what?”

“Well, lets just say ‘he who shall not be named’ is sitting over there at the bar,” she said with a nod of her head. My whole body grew hot and my stomach soured. I wanted to turn around and look, but my body wouldn’t move. “And it looks like someone here needs another pint…”

I huffed, my lips trilling. “And you’re not going to go get it for me, are you?”

She shook her head no.

“You’re going to make me, me, your bestest mate in the whole world go?”

This time she nodded her head. “Go my little nymph, go!”

I narrowed my eyes at her before gritting out a, “fine,” to her through my teeth. A wicked grin played across her face.

“Man, I might have to move to a closer booth so I can hear…” I rolled my eyes at her as I stood up, shimming my fitted black dress down to its proper position before grabbing my empty glass and heading towards the bar.

I felt as though another person was in control of my body, telling my legs to keep moving in the direction of Ted. Once at the bar I stood behind him for a second, trying to figure out the best way to approach this. I decided that buying myself a drink and just 'noticing him' would have to do.

As I took a seat at the bar next to him, I raised my hand up to get the barman Albert’s attention, raising my empty glass once I had his attention. After ordering my drink I pretended to not notice Ted at first, but did a fake double take to realize it was him.

“Ted?" I asked, giving him another look over. He glanced up from his drink, apparently not having realized that anyone had sat down next to him. He gave me a look over, before realizing who it was, or at least I hoped so.

"Oh! Well hello there Penny Lane," he said a bit more cheerfully than his facial expression showed, “I almost didn’t recognize you…”

My face furrowed in confusion. “How so?”

"Well, I'd have to say you're much more dolled up than you are at the club," he said, hiding a grin in his glass before taking another drink.

I felt myself blush, hoping that the dim lighting would hide that from him, but I doubted it would. Thankfully, Albert came over and handed over my drink, momentarily distracting me from my warm, rosy cheeks. I thanked him, holding out cash to give to him, but Ted stopped me.

"No, no. Put it on my tab," he said. I slowly retracted my hand back away, putting my money back in my bra. Albert gave me a knowing wink before nodding to Ted.

"Well, thank you. You didn't have to do that," I told him before taking a sip of my drink. He shrugged, giving me a small smirk and a sideways glance.

"It's the least I can do. After…you know," he said before trailing off and gulping down the last of his drink. He set it down on the bar, motioning for another. I couldn't read the emotion on his face.

“Oh, Jesus, Ted, I mean, honestly-”

He cut me off. “I apologize for cutting you off because my grandma taught me you never interrupt a lady like this, but I’m currently the perfect mix of guilty, booze and well, stupidity, and I have to get this out before I burst like a can of Pillsbury crescent rolls,” he sighed before turning to me, our eyes meeting.

“I need to say how sorry I am about yesterday. I can’t- I can’t stop thinking about how vulnerable and exposed you must have felt. I mean, gosh Penny. I don’t even know what to say. I’m just-I’m just so embarrassed. If I had known that you were in there-”

I put my hand on his forearm to calm him and stop him from rambling on.

“Ted, first off, please breathe,” I said, giving his arm a soft squeeze. Not breaking eye contact with me, together we took a deep breath through our nostrils and then out, my eyes darting to his slightly parted lips. I nodded in approval, and he nodded back. “Better?”

“Yeah, yeah better,” he said with a sigh. I moved my hand from his arm and picked up my beer, taking another drink.

“You know,” I said, wiping the corner of my mouth with the pad of my thumb, “I didn’t realize I had a triple threat see me naked…”

His eyebrow knit together and I giggled at his confusion. The booze was definitely settling in my bloodstream.

“Yeah! Now tell me, how does one become whisky? Exactly how much whisky are you? Is it an even ratio to the guilt and stupidity?” I explained. A stupid grin suddenly appeared on his once forlorn expression at my dumb joke.

“I’d say it’s probably a 40/30/30 thing,” he replied with a scrunch of his nose.

“Is the 40% whisky, because if so we have a problem Coach Lasso,” I giggled. He took another sip of his drink, resting it in his hand.

“Then maybe a 10/40/30,” he corrected. I paused, doing the mental math through my beer fog before laughing.

“Ted! That’s only 90%,” I joked, pushing on his shoulder playfully. I watched my hand almost like it was a foreign object, it seeming to have done that all on its own. I brought it back to my beer, taking a drink.

“How did you know this was whisky?” he asked, lifting the glass in his hand.

I shrugged. “I know I might be drinking pints right now, but trust me, I know a good whisky when I smell one. May I?”

I put my beer down and held my hand out for his drink. His eyes lit up, both taken aback and impressed by my actions. He held his short glass out to me and as I took it, my fingers brushed his. My heart started pouding in my chest at the feel of his skin under my finger tips, and I had to remind my tipsy brain to focus on the drink and not it’s owner.

I swished the glass around before bringing it up to my lips and taking a small sip. The amber colored liquid stung as it hit the back of my throat, causing my face to wince slightly.

“Good god Ted, you’re drinking this whisky neat? Like, not even on the rocks?” I asked, making a face at the glass as I handed it back to him. He chuckled.

“Well, what can I say? I’m a purist at heart when it comes to drinking,” he said proudly.

“Or your tastebuds are just shot after only drinking something you could sterilize a wound with during WWI,” I said with a laugh.

As I picked up my own drink to get the taste of the whisky out of my mouth, Ted took it out of my hand, bringing it up to his lips without saying a word. His eyes widened as he realized what I was drinking. His face soured as he swallowed, coughing a little.

“So you’re-you’re telling me, you just now were talking about how mine tastes like rubbing alcohol, when you’re sitting here in front of me drinking a Guinness? That drink is more bitter than Scar when Simba was born and he knew he was never going to be king,” he said, giving my glass an amusing glare.

“Um, yes. This tastes like hops and has hints of coffee and chocolate. It’s absolutely delicious,” I stated proudly, taking my beer back from him, “and didn’t your grandma teach you to not take a drink from a lady without asking when she taught you about cutting them off mid sentence?”

The expression on his face was nothing short of impressed. “You have happily surprised me, Penny.”

“How so?” I questioned, genuinely curious for his answer. As I took another drink waiting for him to reply, I felt my body grown warm, my vision getting a tinge fuzzy around the corners. The temperature of my body continued to rise between the alcohol and my nerves, even though those were currently masked by faux confidence from the before mentioned booze.

He opened his mouth to talk as I began to take my jean jacket off and placed it on my lap, exposing my shoulders to the cool air. His voice hitched in his throat, causing him to cough a little, his eyes never leaving me.

“Yes?” I pressed, raising my eyebrows at him.

“Oh, yes, um, sorry,” he said, and I could tell he was fending off embarrassment. “Just that I never expected you to drink pints of Guinness and know whisky by the smell or…”

His cheeks turned red, and after his eyes scanned down my body he buried his nose in his drink, taking an audible gulp. My eyes widened and I couldn’t help but let out a giggle. Ted’s eyes darted back to me as he brought the drink down to the bar.

“Well, I think there’s a lot that would surprise you about me,” I teased with a smirk, picking up my drink and chugging the last half. I set the glass back down with a loud clang, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. He raised his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side in interest.

Before I could get other word out, I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder. Ted looked over my shoulder at someone and I followed his gaze, turning around to see Jo.

“ It’s Joey! TED! You have to meet my friend. You’re going to LOVE her name,” I exclaimed a little too loudly.

“Hello, I’m Jolene, this little blonde bundle of Guiness’ best friend and roommate,” she said, putting a hand out to Ted. He took her hand in his and shook it.

“Nice to meet you Jolene- wait Jolene?” he asked, it dawning on him. A stupid, drunk, shit eating grin spread across my face. “Wait, you mean like the hit song by our Lord and Savior, Miss Dolly Parton?”

Jo smiled. “That’s the one!”

“Well butter my butt and call me toast. Best friends with names from song titles? That’s pretty gosh darn cool if I do say so,” he said, his speech slightly slurring.

“Isn’t it the best?!” I stated, still too loudly.

“Alright, well it was very nice finally meeting the man I shouted ‘wanker’ at for a long time, but I do believe I need to get this little light weight home. Did she drink an entire pint while over here?” Jo asked Ted. He nodded.

“And made fun of me drinking whisky,” he added.

I giggled to myself, thinking back to that interaction. “It was hilaaaaaaarious. You should have seen his face!”

“Ohhhhhkay Penny, let’s say goodbye to Ted,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders to help me get up. As I stood my knees wobbled, thankfully Jo caught me though. I draped my jacket over my shoulders, it making me want to be in my bed cozy and warm.

“Are you going to be okay getting her home, Jolene?” Ted asked, a look of concern on his face.

“That’s very sweet of you Ted, but I’ve got her. This isn’t going to be the first time I’ve had to cart her drunk ass home…or the last,” she said, turning to me and giving me a wink. I scoffed, giving her an over exaggerated face.

“Alright then. Well, was nice to meet you Jolene,” he said, nodding to her with a large grin, “and it was good seeing you Penny.”

“It was good seeing you, too, Coach. And thank you for my beer! That was very kind of you,” I said, giving him a smile.

“Anytime, Penny.”

As Jo and I began to walk away, I stopped, my brain acting before my common sense could catch up and stop it. I leaned in close to Ted, my lips practically brushing his earlobe.

“I was going to tell you,” I started softly into his ear, “one thing that might surprise you about me is that I didn’t hate you walking in on me naked, and I don’t think you hated it either.” I stepped away, giving space for me to see the shocked but relieved look on his face.

I gave him a scrunched nose smile. “Goodnight, Coach.”

Jo and I exited the bar, and the moment we were outside she stopped me, holding me arm’s length.

“Did you just tell Ted what I think you did?”

I giggled. “Mmhmm.”

She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and began to walk us in the direction of the tube. “I can’t wait to tell hungover Penny what you just said.”

#ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso x ofc #jason sudeikis #florence pugh #ted lasso fanfic

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nkp1981 · 2 years

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May Calamawy photographed by Jamie Nelson for 'Harper's Bazaar', 2020

#may calamawy #layla el-faouly #moon knight

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addictedgallery · 9 months

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We're Addicted To Jamie Nelson

YSL (Yves Saint Laurent), Bullet, 2017

✨ COMING SOON ✨

We’re thrilled to announce a new and exciting addition to the Addicted family: the incredibly talented rollerskating, living the dream in a house that would make Barbie pink with envy - photographer, Jamie Nelson. With her unique perspective, artistic flair and unparalleled ability to capture the essence of her subjects, Jamie brings a fresh and captivating energy to our gallery. Did we mention the (very real) flamingos lounging poolside?

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thesecretdiaryofa90sgirl · 2 years

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Kourtney Kardashian for Paper Magazine, 2019 💖🎀💖

Photography: Jamie Nelson

Photographer Assistant: Aaron Morganstein & Brad Nelson

Stylist: Chloe & Chenelle Delgadillo

Makeup: Wendi Miyaki (using MAC Cosmetics)

Hair: Andrew Fitzsimons

Nails: Kim Truong

Set Design: Daniel Horowitz

Seamstress: Oxana Sumenko

On-Set Producer: Genevieve Dellinger (at Goldie Productions)

#kourtney kardashian #paper magazine #fashion #style #fashion photoshoot #fashion photography #poosh #kuwtk #kardashians #pink aesthetic #glam #vintage glamour #old hollywood glamour #glamour #beauty #hair #makeup #pop culture #pop culture icon

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ms-mandy-m · 2 years

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Anna Rudenko photographed by Jamie Nelson for Harper’s Bazaar Español, November 2010.

#photography #fashion #luxury #style #makeup #jewelry #jewellery #necklace #pearl necklace #pearl #pearls #lips #lipstick #lip makeup #red lips #fashion photoshoot #editorial #fashion editorial

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 11 months

Text

Cruel Summer (Superstar Chapter 7)

I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

Said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

New faces at Nelson Road cause quite a stir.

Roy Kent x Reader

7.5k words

Warnings: Language, angst, drinking, Roy flirting hard, my heart breaking if you listen closely

Thank you so much for all the love! This chapter was probably the hardest for me to write so far, so I hope you enjoy- even if it hurts!

Bzzz!

My phone vibrated in my hand as I sat in Rebecca’s office. It was packed: Rebecca, Ted, Beard, Keeley, Higgins, Roy, me. We were a tense party as we waited for word that Dario Vargas had arrived at the Dog Track, staring at our phones in anticipation. All eyes turned to me the moment my phone went off, wondering if this was the signal.

Looking fucking fit in that skirt. Think anyone would notice if I dragged you into the boot room later so I could show you how much I like it?

Heat flooded my face. “Just my Mum. Wants to wish us luck with the big announcement today,” I lied. My eyes flickered across the office to Roy, who stood in the far corner of the office, hands in his pockets as he gazed at the ceiling, acting as if he hadn’t just made me blush through a text message. With the amount of time I’d spent looking at his face over the past few months, it was easy for me to spy the tiniest smirk hiding under his bored expression.

It was nice that Roy noticed the difference in my appearance, though. Usually, I wore jeans and a sweater to the office, often Richmond ones, especially on match days. Today called for something a bit different though; it was press conference day. We all knew that meant to look camera-ready, even if we weren’t the ones behind the microphones. For me, that meant a pencil skirt, blouse, and heels. And apparently Roy didn’t mind the change of wardrobe one bit.

Leaning back so Ted, who sat on the couch beside me drumming out a beat on his thigh, couldn’t see my screen, I switched my phone to silent and quickly typed a response.

Honestly? Once Vargas is in the building I doubt anyone would notice if we went at it in the middle of the changing room.

I eyed Roy discreetly as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked it. His jaw twitched as his thumbs flew across the screen.

Thanks for the new fantasy.

My face burned. This man is going to be the death of me.

Before I could figure out some clever response, Rebecca let out a sound, a loud, high-pitched mix between a laugh and a gasp. We all turned to look at her.

“He’s here,” was all she said.

Everyone stood and filed out of the office; Rebecca and Ted to the parking lot, the rest of us to the changing room, where the team would be waiting.

“Down, boy,” I whispered to Roy as he walked just a smidge too close, letting his hand softly graze my skirt. In response, he smirked and nudged me playfully, but returned to a respectable distance.

Unlike Rebecca’s office, the air in the changing room was filled with a tense excitement as the guys chattered amongst themselves. They all waved and called hellos to us as we entered, their expressions contrasting ours. Of course, it was different for them than for us; they were excited, even thrilled to have a new teammate to help the team succeed and push them to be better versions of themselves. For the rest of the staff, there was a shared sense of anxiety. Would this player be that “thing” Richmond needed to win? Would he mesh well with the guys? Would he be easy to get along with, or a prima donna even worse than Jamie used to be?

“-and here is the changing room,” Rebecca was saying as she held open the door.

Everyone straightened up as Dario Vargas entered, followed by a small entourage made up of Ted and a photographer. He was exactly the way I remembered him looking in the magazine: light brown hair just past his ears, blue eyes, clean-shaven, and a megawatt smile. If he was as exceptional on the field as he was to look at, Richmond’s prospects looked great.

Ted led Dario around the room, introducing each player to him with a fun little fact; Sam owned a restaurant, Isaac loved the movie Age of Innocence, Jan was into true crime, Dani “hablas Español!”.

“And this here’s some of our staff,” Ted continued, turning his attention to the rest of us. He quickly introduced Dario to Beard, who tipped his hat, and Roy, who scowled. Then Ted turned to me, proudly presenting me as “the glue that keeps this whole operation together”.

Ted went on. “Seriously, though. This right here is the nicest gal you’ll ever meet. Goes infinity and beyond for this team like she’s Buzz Lightyear. Hell, even grumpy ol’ Roy here’s got a soft spot for her.” My cheeks warmed as I refused to look anyone in the eye. “Anything you need, Dario, you just ask this one. She’ll take care of ya.”

I blushed at Ted’s praise as I faced Dario Vargas. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

Dario took my hand and planted a small kiss on it; the team whistled like boys on the schoolyard. “Mucho gusto, belleza,” he purred.

Beside me, I could feel Roy cross his arms and stiffen. Great. As soon as they moved on to Keeley and took the attention with them, I gave Roy a miniscule bump. He glanced down at me out of the corner of his eye, his mouth curved down. I raised my eyebrows, hoping that just looking at him would be enough to calm him down.

Keeley cleared her throat, catching everyone’s attention. “Alright, well now that introductions are out of the way, why don’t we head to the pi-”

“Hello, Richmond!”

A knot formed in my stomach as soon as that syrupy voice reached my ears. Bursting through the doors looking like she’d just stepped out of a magazine was Brittany Brett. She sauntered up to Dario, who grabbed her and kissed her, dipping her slightly as the photographer’s camera click click clicked and the guys tittered. I inched closer to Roy, barely brushing my arm against his, as if the feather-light touch would somehow brand him as mine, mine, mine.

Apparently, my brilliant plan didn’t work, because, while Keeley ushered Dario and Ted out so they could head to the pitch for some quick photos before the press conference, Brittany Brett strolled in our direction. My fingers were trembling as my throat dried up. There she was. Brittany Brett. Standing in my changing room, with my team. Staring at my Roy.

A smirk played on her glossy lips as she gazed up at Roy through the longest, thickest lashes I’d ever seen. “Coach Roy, aren’t you happy to see me?” She opened her arms as if for a hug and raised a playful eyebrow, a pout on her pump lips.

Arms still crossed, Roy grunted and rolled his eyes. Without a glance in her direction, he turned around and grabbed my arm gently. He looked down at me, mouth set in a straight line. “I’ll be in our office. Tell me when it’s time for the shit show.” He stalked off, slamming the office door behind him.

Brittany Brett’s eyes fell on me as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. She smirked. “Roy’s always been a bit of a wanker, hmm?”

Oh, fuck you. I stood up a bit taller, still nowhere close to Brittany Brett’s statuesque height. “Actually, I think Roy’s the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

“Hmm.” She looked me up and down, her cool expression making me question each article of clothing I’d put on that morning, right down to my knickers. “You work for Roy, don’t you? As his assistant, was it? I saw you hanging around him at Rebecca’s darling little charity gala.”

Heat surged through my whole body. “I’m the coaching staff’s administrative coordinator.” No one would correct the slight promotion I’d just given myself. “Roy and I work together.”

Her eyes narrowed microscopically for a moment, her smile never fading. “Guess we’ll be seeing loads of each other then. Nice to meet you.” She icily turned on her ridiculously high heel and strutted out of the changing room, taking several gazes with her.

“Wow, she does not like you.” Jamie had appeared at my side. “You alright?”

I glanced around at the guys, milling about and chattering excitedly about their new teammate as they prepared for the day’s training. “Just annoyed at how pretty she is,” I grumbled. “And that she used to shag Roy.”

Jamie snorted. “I get that. I hate every guy Keeley’s ever been with.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “But just remember.” He looked over his shoulder before lowering his voice. “Roy loves ya.”

“Thanks, Jamie,” I muttered, giving him a soft punch in the arm. “See you in a bit, yeah?”

I quietly walked into the office, where I found Roy leaning back in his chair, head tilted back, eyes closed. He opened one at the sound of the door opening and closed it again when he saw it was me.

“She gone?” he growled.

“Back to the pits of hell I hope,” I answered, closing the door and the blinds that looked into Ted’s office. “I kind of hate her,” I mumbled as I sank onto his lap, tossing my phone onto his desk.

Roy grunted and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Just my fucking luck that of all the footballers in Europe, she’s shagging the one we sign.” He buried his face in my neck. “Wanna fucking quit our jobs?”

I snorted. “I actually quite like my job. I can’t quit just because a model is rude to me.”

“At least Vargas seems to like you. A little too fucking much, I might add,” Roy grumbled, his scruff rubbing against my skin.

“Oh hush.” I lifted his chin so he could look at me. “I only like cranky retired footballers-turned-coach, alright?”

That earned me a smile from Roy. “Alright.” He kissed me gently, his hand finding its way into my hair, ignoring the fact that we were in the middle of our office on a day where the press was crawling about. His lips against mine was enough to make me forget until I caught sight of my mobile screen lighting up with a text alert.

Heading to the press room, the text from Keeley read. I reluctantly removed myself from Roy.

“Time for the shit show.”

I smiled as I watched Roy lay on the floor with Phoebe after dinner. From the look on his face, the ongoing drama between Phoebe’s dolls was the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard in his life. His eyes flickered to me for a brief moment, his face softening into a look of complete fondness before turning back to his niece.

I wasn’t the only one to notice.

“I have never seen my brother love someone so much,” Roy’s sister murmured, handing me a glass of wine as she joined me at the table.

I nodded. “Oh, he adores Phoebe. Talks about her all the time.”

She let out a soft chuckle. “Not Phoebe. You.” She smiled. “You’re really good for him, you know that?” Before I could deflect the compliment, she held up a finger. “Don’t play humble. He’s really happy. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. He’s got a dog, he’s swearing less around Phoebe, he smiles all the time now.” She paused. “At least, all the time by Roy standards.”

“He makes me pretty happy too,” was all I could think to say. After a heavy silence, I added, “Thanks for inviting us over, by the way.” I smiled.

She shook her head. “I’m really glad we could finally do this. You’re so important to him. Which means you’re important to us.”

My heart swelled at her words. “I love how much time he spends with Phoebe,” I said, attempting to redirect the attention. “She’s great.”

“She thinks pretty much the same thing about you,” she chuckled. “Absolutely obsessed with you. Every day she asks if she can go over to Uncle Roy’s so she can play with you and Oscar.”

Right on cue, Phoebe bustled over, squeezing herself into my arms; I obliged and pulled her into a hug.

“Will you come to my ballet recital?”

The recital in question was still a couple of months away; for weeks now, Phoebe had asked me the same question every time she saw me. And each time, I answered the same.

“Of course. And I’ll bring you pink roses, alright?”

Satisfied with my unchanging answer, Phoebe gave me a small squeeze, took a sip of her juice that sat on the table, and ran back to her Uncle Roy, who was now wearing a tiara and holding a wand. He rolled his eyes lightheartedly as the small girl tackled him, roaring like a dragon.

I chuckled and turned back to his sister. “Alright, where’s that album you were telling me about?”

“Right here.” She nudged the bright blue photo album towards me with a sly grin. “Don’t let Roy see,” she stage-whispered.

“Don’t let me see what?” Roy called, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as Phoebe pretended to breathe flames out of her mouth.

I waved him off as I opened the book. “Never you mind.” My eyes were glued to the page before me. “Oh my God, he’s adorable,” I gushed, pointing at a picture of a young Roy hugging a football, mop of thick black hair on his head. “How old was he here?”

His sister squinted at the photo. “About five, maybe?” She pointed to another photograph. “That’s the first time our grandad took him to a match. He came home babbling nonstop about becoming a professional footballer when he grew up.” She rolled her eyes. “And of course, he was right, the bastard.”

I laughed and turned the page, pointing at photos and letting Roy’s sister tell me the stories behind each one. My eyes travelled with joy from image to image, watching Roy grow from an adorable child with a football at his feet to a surly teenager with his arms crossed to a grumpy adult only smiling when he was with Phoebe. His whole life right here, between the pages of a book. Despite spending an embarrassing amount of years with his face plastered on my walls, I could feel an intimacy as I looked at these photos; I was glimpsing the Roy Kent that no one else got to see, the Roy that looked at me tenderly and wrapped his arms around me at night. And a not-so-small part of me couldn’t help but wonder if I’d make it into that photo album someday.

“You are not looking at that thing,” Roy growled as he sat at the table, picking up the beer he’d left there.

“’course I am,” I scoffed, turning another page. “You never know when blackmail is going to come in handy.”

He shook his head and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close so he could plant a kiss on the top of my head. “You can fucking keep her,” he offered to his sister.

She laughed, taking a drink of her wine. “If you were smart, you’d keep her.” She shot me a wink.

Another kiss landed on top of my head. “I plan to.”

“What d’you want for lunch today?” Roy raised his thick eyebrows at me while slipping on his leather jacket.

“Hmm…” I tapped my pen against my desk. “We haven’t had gyros yet this week. Kinda been craving one lately.”

He nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“Oh, is this your office? How cute.”

I whipped my head around. Brittany Brett. Of course.

Roy scowled and looked back at me. “’ll bring you two gyros. Be right back.”

A silence settled over the office once he left. I glanced at Brittany, who was looking at Roy’s desk with far too much interest. For a few minutes I tried focusing on my work, hoping she’d take the hint and go away. Instead, she leaned over Roy’s desk to pick up the photo I’d taken of him and Phoebe at The Sound of Music. Finally, I cleared my throat.

“Need something?”

She looked up at me, her expression telling me that she’d completely forgotten I was there. In my own office. “Oh, nothing really. Just waiting for Dario to finish training.” Her gaze fell back to Roy’s desk; apparently, she was not going away anytime soon. I saw her do a double take at the simple heart I’d drawn on a sticky note and stuck to his desk a few weeks back. “So, Roy Kent’s grabbing his own lunch then?” She let out a small laugh. “Wow. On every job I’ve ever been on, it’s always the assistant’s job to grab lunches. They do all the little jobs, you know.”

My eyes narrowed. “Well, that’s not how we do things at Richmond.”

Brittany smiled at me- one of those smiles that horribly beautiful people have perfected, the one where you know they’re laughing at you on the inside- and nodded. “Clearly.” Her eyes flickered to my work area now. “What’s this?” She strolled over, eyes skimming my orange sticky note, mumbling the words To my biggest fan. XOXO Roy Kent. “Well, isn’t that just cute, you made him sign an autograph.”

I crossed my arms across my chest with a huff. “It’s an inside joke between Roy and me.”

“Oh, you have inside jokes together, hmm?”

“Yup. Coworkers sometimes do.” Go away, go away.

She remained in place, gazing at the photo of my family that suddenly felt juvenile. “Bet you just love working here. Being surrounded by all those footballers, fit and handsome and rich.”

I snorted at the implication. “Surrounded by the smell of their sweat is more like it,” I muttered, feeling riled up by the absolute condescension in her voice.

She knew she was getting under my skin. “Oh, do you prefer grumpy coaches?”

Alright. She won. “So did you need something, or can I get back to work?”

Before Brittany could answer, Dario Vargas poked his head into the office. “There you are,” he said to Brittany. His face lit up when he saw me. “Hola, belleza,” he greeted. While I didn’t love the attention he paid to me, I couldn’t help but enjoy the slight annoyance it brought to Brittany Brett’s face whenever she heard him call me beautiful. He turned back to his perturbed girlfriend. “Ready?”

She tossed a little smirk in my direction as she took Dario’s outstretched hand. “I’ll see you later, Roy Kent’s biggest fan,” she called over her shoulder in a sing-song voice.

“Freaking cow,” I muttered under my breath as I returned to my laptop.

“Who’s a cow?”

Keeley bounded into the office, ponytail swinging behind her. She perched herself on my desk, curiosity playing on her face.

I hesitated a moment; I still wasn’t sure how Keeley felt about Brittany Brett. But the earnest interest in Keeley’s eyes encouraged me. “Brittany Brett,” I muttered.

“Ooh, really?” She leaned forward, that devilish smile on her face. “Hmm, you don’t like Roy Kent’s ex-girlfriend. Why would that be?”

“You know, if I did fancy him- which I’m not saying I do- you’d be doing a shit job of helping me keep it secret,” I pointed out.

Keeley shrugged. “What if I wasn’t interested in helping keep it secret? What if I’m interested in telling him all about how hot you are for him so he can stop being a knob and ask you out already?”

Why is my office being bombarded by models intent on annoying me today?!

“Keeley-”

She shook her head. “Babes, stop denying it already! I’ve seen the way you go all red every time the man walks into the room. And on press conference day, his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw you in that little skirt.”

I blushed at the memory of the way Roy had looked at me that day. “Keeley, are you in here for a reason?”

“I was just popping in to say hi,” she admitted, glancing at her impeccable nails. “And you still haven’t explained why Brittany Brett is a cow.”

I winced. “She’s not a friend of yours, is she? Because I know you’ve done a couple shoots together and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you like her and-”

Keeley wrinkled her nose. “Nah, she is a bit of a cow. She once tried to hit on Jamie at a wrap party when I was standing right next to him.”

“See, that absolutely sounds like her,” I scoffed. “I know everyone’s excited about this Vargas thing, and I am too. I want to win, but shit, what do we have to put up with to get there? She’s here all the damn time, and Rebecca says she can’t exactly tell Dario she can’t hang around when you’re always here, but you work with us, so I think it’s a shit excuse because we all just want to make Dario happy. And she just hovers and flirts with the boys and I dunno what business she has in my office, looking at my things, touching Roy’s shit. Like, fuck, doesn’t she have a camera to go stand in front of?” I paused. “Shit, no offense, Keeley. Scratch that last comment, I’m just being a grouch.” I let out a deep breath. Ranting felt good.

Keeley stared at me with wide eyes. “Wow. You’re really jealous of Brittany Brett, babe.”

I sighed. “It’s not that. I just hate that she called me Roy’s assistant.”

“Um…” Keeley cocked her head at me pitifully. “You are his assistant.”

“No, I’m the coaching staff’s administrative coordinator or assistant or whatever the fuck you always call me,” I grumbled. “Assistant makes it sound like I spend my time picking up Roy’s lunch. Everyone knows he brings me lunch.”

A softness appeared on Keeley’s face. “And everyone knows you are an absolutely essential part of this team, babe.”

I nodded. “Exactly. Those idiots wouldn’t be able to function without me.”

“What idiots?”

Roy stood in the doorway, takeaway bag in one hand, and a cup with a straw in the other. He took a sip, looking at me expectantly.

“Ted. Beard.” I nodded in his direction. “You.”

He furrowed his brow. “’m not a fucking idiot.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. Roy, you’re just as useless as Ted and Beard. Maybe worse.” I could feel Keeley’s eyes bouncing back and forth between us like a tennis match. “Like, what time’s that interview Keeley set up for you?”

“Whatever time you drag me out of my chair and tell me to go to my fucking interview,” he answered, shrugging as if it were obvious.

“It’s at three. And what is the interview about?” I raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Roy took another sip of his soda. “Whatever the wanker journalist asks me about.”

“It’s for a piece on the football club you founded for underprivileged children in your old neighborhood. Also, in about fifteen minutes, you’re going to get cold and go looking for your jacket. You left it in the weight room when you were screaming at Jamie.” I reached my hand out. “I’ll take my gyros now.”

Even with Keeley right there watching us, Roy couldn’t hide the small grin on his face as he handed me the bag of food. “Here, you bossy thing. Let me know when I’m allowed to eat.”

“Fuck. You two are like, work married or some shit,” Keeley giggled. “Now, kiss.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You can leave now, Keeley.”

She hopped off my desk, shooting me a wink. “Aww, do Mr. and Mrs. Kent need some alone time?” She giggled as she passed by Roy, giving him a soft nudge. “You two make a lovely couple,” she called over her shoulder as she left.

Roy slumped into his chair, swiveling it around to face me. “I do like the sound of alone time,” he hummed.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Then hurry up and eat your lunch,” I retorted. “I’ve got you scheduled for a quick snog before your interview.”

Richmond wasn’t supposed to beat Man City. Everyone knew that.

So, when the final whistle blew on a 2-1 Richmond victory, everyone went berserk. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought we’d won the whole “kit and kaboodle”, as Ted would say, rather than a regular season match of little consequence. On the pitch, the boys leaped into each other’s arms, laughing and shouting at one another. In the dugout, Ted, Beard, and Roy shook hands, smiles all around. I stood off to the side, clutching my tablet and shaking my head, a laugh trapped in my chest. Normally, I’d have watched this game with friends at home or in a pub, beer splashing all over us with the final whistle. Instead, I now stood on the pitch at Nelson Road, feeling the roar of the crowd and players burrow beneath my skin.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind. When I looked up, Roy was grinning down at me. “Get the fuck out there!” he yelled over the noise. Without warning, he grabbed my tablet and tossed it to Will, then lifted me off my feet and carried me out to the pitch as I squealed with laughter, Ted and Beard running just ahead of us to join the team.

In an instant, I was swallowed into a sea of bright blue as the boys jumped up and down, shouting with the fans in the stands: “We're Richmond till we die. We know we are, we're sure we are, we're Richmond till we die! We're Richmond till we die. We know we are, we're sure we are, we're Richmond till we die!”

A pair of hands reached out and took mine; it took a moment to realize it was Jamie. He pulled me into a tight hug before I was grabbed by Sam, then Isaac, and in time I had been embraced by each member of the team, pats on my back and kisses on the top of my head. Eventually, I found my way through the throng back to Roy, who pulled me into the tightest hug of all, his embrace letting me know that he would give me a proper celebration kiss the moment we were alone. For a brief moment, I didn’t care where we were; I wanted that kiss now.

Before I could lift my face to Roy’s, Ted grabbed me and wrapped me in a bear hug, babbling about how happy he was and something about a pig and slop. I nodded and smiled, the way I always did when I wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, as we took the celebration into the changing room. Over my shoulder, I could see Roy and Jamie chattering and walking together with springs in their steps, Roy’s bright eyes on me.

In the changing room, the boys continued their celebration, blasting music and dancing around. Somewhere in all of it, the decision was made to move the festivities to a local club. I eyed Roy, who I knew hated clubs even more than I did. He met my gaze with a defeated shrug; he knew we really had no choice.

That’s how I found myself in a dark club, drink in hand, surrounded by Richmond players and staff. Keeley had insisted I go home and change out of my Richmond jumper and into “something you’ll look fit in”. In the back of my closet, I had found the little black dress I often wore when my girlfriends took me on a night out. With a little extra makeup and a pair of heels, I felt strangely confident as I arrived at the club. My confidence amplified when Keeley shrieked at the sight of me.

“Fuck, you look great!” she gushed, squeezing me. “Roy’s gonna drag you out of here all caveman-style.”

I rolled my eyes, pretending that wasn’t a very real possibility. “You act like my world revolves around the man.”

She smirked. “I bet his revolves around you. Look.” She nodded across the club, pointing out Roy, who stood with Jamie, beer in hand, eyes fixated intensely on me. “That is a man planning on getting lai-”

“I’ll go with you to say hello if you don’t finish that sentence,” I promised, linking my arm with Keeley’s. The offer seemed good to Keeley, apparently, because she kept her mouth shut as we made our way over to the guys.

While Keeley threw her arms around Jamie, I turned to Roy. He smirked down at me as he took a sip of his beer.

“You wanna dance?” he asked.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

He shrugged. “It’s a celebration. Everyone’s fucking sloshed. No one’ll notice, ’cept maybe Keeley, once she removes Tartt’s tongue from her throat.” Sure enough, Keeley and Jamie were locked in a pretty intense embrace against a wall.

“Then let’s dance,” I agreed.

Roy set our drinks on the bar and slipped his hand into mine, guiding me to the dance floor. Normally, I hated clubs; too loud, too crowded, too lonely. But when Roy planted his hands firmly on my hips and pulled me closer to himself, I found myself wondering if maybe I’d misjudged clubs. Part of me again wished I could just reach up and kiss him, the way other couples like Jamie and Keeley did. Maybe the time was approaching to rethink the whole “keeping things quiet” thing. Maybe Roy felt the same way. After all, this was something serious. We’d met each other’s families. I had my own key to his house. There was a dog that I had named that slept at the foot of Roy’s bed. We were building a life together. And I wasn��t sure if I wanted to keep it a secret anymore.

A buzz of chatter interrupted my thoughts. I craned my neck and saw what- or who- had caused such a commotion: Dario Vargas and Brittany Brett had arrived, looking more like they were going to a movie premiere than celebrating a regular-season win with the team. As I took in the sight of Brittany in her cutout dress that was more skin than dress, my outfit suddenly felt like something a uni student would buy for her first night out with her girlfriends.

As if he could feel my insecurities bubbling to the surface, Roy grunted to get my attention. “You look gorgeous, by the way,” he called over the music. “Can’t believe I haven’t seen that dress yet.”

I offered Roy a tight smile, my heart not quite in it. It had been exhausting since Dario- and Brittany- had arrived at Richmond. The paparazzi were hanging around much more than usual, Dario was constantly trying to find an excuse to talk to me, the players I loved turned into drooling children when Brittany would walk in the room, and I had to have this constant reminder about the kind of girls Roy usually went for and how vastly different I was from them.

Trying to ignore the growing pit in my stomach, I danced with Roy to a few more songs before I finally suggested we grab drinks. We found Jamie and Keeley still at the bar, but at least now they had come up for air. We had just settled with beers when someone- probably Isaac- suggested the whole team take shots. It wasn’t long before someone else- maybe Dani this time- suggested another round. And on and on until the night started to become a blur of alcohol and music and Roy’s smile and Brittany Brett hovering on the periphery.

I was on shot number who knows when Roy stood from the couch we’d been sitting on and announced that he’d be right back with another drink and some water. I had been alone for all of two seconds when I felt someone sit on my other side. Fully expecting Keeley or Jamie or literally anyone else, I froze when I saw it was Brittany Brett.

“Having fun?” she hummed, her eyes travelling over my dress, the dress Roy had assured me he liked.

I cleared my throat, determined to be nice. “I am, actually. Yourself?”

She shrugged, a bored expression on her too-perfect face. “I guess. Getting a little tired of all the papps following Dario and me around, you know?” She scrunched her nose. “Or maybe not.”

Cow.

She continued. “You and Roy seem very chummy,” she observed. “If I didn’t know his type, I’d think there was something between you.” The fakest smile I’d ever seen appeared on her face. “Not that anyone could blame you for having a crush on Roy Kent. He’s fit and famous, not to mention loaded. Quite a catch.”

The number of shots I’d taken didn’t let me resist. “That’s not why I like him,” I disputed. “I like him because he’s kind and he’s funny and he takes care of the people he loves. I like him because he’s a fantastic uncle, and he’s passionate about coaching, and he sings along to Julie Andrews movies.” I shook my head. “Sure, I had a crush on him before I knew all that, but that’s not why I’m dating him.”

Fuck.

If this was news to Brittany Brett, she did not show it. Instead, her lips formed a tiny smirk as her eyes flickered somewhere behind me. “Oh. You are shagging Roy Kent then?”

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the way Brittany Brett made me feel so fucking small. Maybe it was the months of pretending that Roy and I were just friends. Maybe I just wanted to see what would happen.

“Yeah,” I confirmed, sticking my chin out. “I’m shagging Roy Kent.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “And let me guess. He’s sweet to you, even though he’s an arse to the rest of the world. He lets you wear his Richmond shirts to bed. He tells you all about Phoebe and their little uncle-niece dates. He likes to sit and read together on rainy days. He lets you pick the movies, even if he knows he’ll hate them.” She quirked an eyebrow at me. “Yeah. I know what it looks like to be with Roy Kent. Hell, I know what it looks like to have Roy Kent want to marry you.” She tilted her head, her voice dripping with condescension. “Do you?”

My mouth was dry as I tripped on my words. “That doesn’t- we’ve only been- he’s-” I swallowed hard, taking in only air. “He loves me.”

Brittany nodded patronizingly. “I’m sure you think he does. But let’s be honest, you’re just there to fill time until I take him back.” She sipped her drink. “Which may be sooner than you think,” she added with a smirk.

The pit in my stomach grew. “You dumped him,” I said dumbly. “What makes you think he’d want to be with you again?”

She leaned in close, her smile now completely evil. “Love, stop kidding yourself that you matter to him. You’re just a distraction. You just remember that, hmm?” She stood, leaving her empty glass on the low table. “Why else would he not tell anyone about you?” With a tiny wave of her fingers, she was gone in the crowd.

It was a good thing I was already sitting, because my legs were weak. The entire club was spinning as the pulsating music attacked my ears and confused the rhythm of my heart. As I debated just running out of the club, Roy came back, smile on his face and drinks in his hands.

“Sorry,” he called out, sitting back beside me and slipping one of the drinks into my grasp. “Lasso insisted on fucking ‘coach shots’ with him and Beard. He sent me to find you so we could do a round together all four of us, but I was actually wondering if you wanted to get out of here.” He raised his thick eyebrows at me. “It’s about Oscar’s bedtime,” he joked.

“I want to tell people about us,” I blurted out.

Roy blinked a few times, clearly taken aback by my sudden demand. “Oh. Wow. Fuck.” He leaned back onto the couch, eyes still on me. “Alright, well I guess tomorrow we could talk about-”

I shook my head. “No. Roy, I want to tell people right now.” I gestured around us. “Our families already know. The whole team’s here. Hell, there’s even reporters wandering around somewhere. All we’d have to do is kiss-”

The frown on Roy’s face was deeper than I’d ever seen. “Reporters? You want to tell fucking reporters about us?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Roy, I didn’t mean that-”

“Well then what the fuck did you mean?” His face was so twisted that his eyebrows nearly touched. “You know I fucking hate the tabloids. We can talk about how to tell the gits at Richmond, but fuck reporters. Fuck photographers. Fuck all of that.”

My grip tightened on the untouched drink in my hand. “Because I’m a nobody, right? Because you’re scared of all the shit they’re going to say about me, your measly little assistant?”

Roy shook his head incredulously. “The fuck are you on about? I don’t want fuck all to do with them because I find them annoying as shit. They’ll just go on and on about me being an old geezer shagging some twenty-year-old girl. You don’t know what it’s fucking like to deal with all that bullshit.”

“No, I guess some twenty-year-old girl isn’t worth all the hassle,” I spat back.

“What the fuck is this about?” He set his glass down and held his hand out to me. “Come on. Let’s go home. We can crawl into bed and talk about this without some shitty strobe lights making my night vision worse.”

“Because you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?” My voice was tiny, so tiny I wasn’t sure if Roy even heard me.

But he did. “Embarrassed?” he repeated. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I want to go home because I’m fucking old.” He stared at me in disbelief. “Why the fuck do you care about anyone knowing about us? I mean, fine, let’s fucking tell Keeley and Rebecca and the gaffers so we can stop sneaking about. I don’t mind telling Isaac and them. But why the fuck is it anyone else’s business but ours?” The panic in his eyes made it clear: He still doesn’t want anyone to know about me.

I slammed my glass down beside his. “Because I’m fucking tired, Roy. I’m sick of the sneaking and pretending and of feeling like some shitty little secret.” Fuck. There were tears forming in my eyes now. “I feel like fucking nothing. Like, I’m invisible and everyone knows who you are. Fucking ‘He’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where’, fucking Roy Kent Effect, fucking Chelsea legend with his thousands of models and shit.”

Even in the shitty club lighting, I could see Roy’s face turn red. “Hey. You knew exactly who the fuck I was when we met. How could you not with all those fucking posters plastered here, there, every-fucking-where?”

His words knocked the wind out of me. The posters. It was a joke between us, one we shared fondly. An embarrassing story I felt sure he would tell at our wedding someday in the future. The adorable meet-cute we’d share with friends, colleagues, maybe even our kids someday. But now it was being thrown in my face like something to be ashamed of. As if I was still nothing but that stupid little fan I’d felt like the moment Roy had first seen those fucking posters.

“If that’s how you feel.” I stood, rummaging through my clutch until I found my keys. “Here, don’t want a fucking stalker like me having this.” I yanked off his house key and dropped it on the table. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell the press about how you love Julie Andrews or about your dog being named after a Sesame Street character or that thing you do with your hips or any of the nice shit you deigned to do for a fucking nobody like me.”

Roy’s face crumpled as he looked at the key on the table. “Is this really what you fucking want?”

No. I want you to fight for me. I want you to tell me how much you love me. I want you to tell me we can figure this out. I want you to tell me that I matter to you. I want you to tell me that I’m not just some fan you had a good time with. I want you to want everyone to know you love me. I want you to be proud of me.

“Yeah,” I heard myself say. “It’s what I fucking want. ’m sick of being some slag assistant shagging her boss.”

I turned and stumbled away, forcing myself to keep looking ahead; a glance of Roy would have me losing my resolve. As I made my way to the exit, a hand landed on my shoulder.

“Alright there?” Concern covered Jamie’s face.

Tears threatened to fall as I nodded. “Yeah. No. Jamie, could you get Keeley for me?”

“’course.”

It was the longest minute of my life before Keeley hurried to me, her pitiful expression similar to Jamie’s. “What’s wrong, love? Jamie said you looked completely freaked out.”

I shook my head. “I… I need to go. Can you come home with me?”

A smirk played on her face. “Don’t let Roy hear you say that, he might get jeal-” Her eyes widened when the first tear finally fell down my cheek. “Oh. Oh shit. Okay, hold on.” She disappeared and reappeared with Jamie in tow. “Stay with her,” she hissed before turning back to me. “I’ll get a car. Be right back, babes.” She hustled off towards the exit.

Jamie turned to me, placing his hands on my arms. “You alright?” he repeated. When I didn’t answer, he sighed. “Is it Roy?”

More tears fell at the sound of his name. “I think we just broke up,” I whimpered.

“Oh fuck. Shit.” Jamie pulled me in close for a hug. “You’ll be alright,” he assured me, speaking directly into my ear. “I know you’ll be alright.” He held me like that until Keeley returned.

After Jamie released me, Keeley took my hand and led me outside, where a taxi waited for us. She loaded me in, gave the driver my address, then turned her attention to me.

“You ready to tell me what happened?” she asked as she wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Something with Roy?”

I took a deep, shaky breath. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

She shook her head. “Babes, I could never be mad at you.”

“Roy and I have been dating,” I admitted, burying my head in my hands. “For months. The only people that knew were my folks and his sister and Phoebe. Oh, and Jamie. He walked in on me in Roy’s kitchen while I was wearing nothing but one of Roy’s old kits.”

“Hot,” Keeley noted, trying to make me laugh.

Despite the aching in my chest, I snorted and lifted my head. Almost immediately, the pain came back to me. “Keeley, I fucking loved him. Roy. And I think I just fucked things up beyond repair. And I don’t even know if I’d want to fix them if I could.”

“How d’you mean?”

I sighed. “Roy had asked me about keeping things a secret when we started dating. And I didn’t really mind. Kind of agreed with him, actually. Didn’t want shit from everyone. And honestly, I liked him so much, I would’ve done just about anything he asked anyway. But things just got fucking hard and then Brittany fucking Brett told me all about how I’m just into Roy because he’s Roy fucking Kent and that I’m basically a placeholder til they get back together.”

“Fucking cow,” Keeley hissed.

I continued, “And when I told Roy I was ready to tell people, he freaked out a bit. Made me realize that maybe there’s some truth to all the shit Brittany Brett was telling me. That I was just another one of Roy Kent’s girls. I just happened to last longer than most.”

“Oh, no love,” Keeley murmured, stroking my hair. “No, no. I don’t know anything about your relationship, but I’ve seen the way that man looks at you. You’re not a placeholder. You’re special to him.”

I shook my head, sobs in my chest. “Then why have I been just a secret all this time?”

Of course, Keeley couldn’t answer that. What she could do, however, was hold me while I cried in the back of the car. What she could do was walk me up to my flat and grab me some pyjamas to change into. What she could do was crawl into bed with me and hold me until I cried myself to sleep. And for the now, that would have to do.

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