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Anthony Stewart Head (1954-2026) 🕊️
Thank you for the memories, they'll last us a lifetime. Anthony Stewart Head (1954-2026)
My Love, Mine All Mine
Ted Lasso x Reader
Synopsis: When Rupert makes passes at you at Rebecca’s gala, Ted steps in. What unfolds throughout the evening reveals feelings and secrets neither of you thought would ever come to light. tags/tropes: fake/pretend relationship, yearning, confession (angryish. if you squint), jealous!ted, physio!reader, workplace relationship, ted can dance?? (new hc just dropped x), everyone realises before they do, Beard is weird but like in a canon accurate way, literal sickening fluffy domesticity, I'm talking teeth-rotting stuff guys, warning: rupert mannion, no beta we die like men, no beta we die like earl, rip earl
Inclusivity: reader is female, mentions of hair, clothing and height (shorter than Ted), use of she/her pronouns, use of ‘woman’ etc.
Warnings: canon-accurate Rupert being a douchebag. he’s a prick, what’s new?
8.8k words
Finally, the night that Rebecca had been planning, organising, and mostly stressing over had arrived. Tonight was the annual fundraising gala, and you, despite not loving huge events like this, were uncommonly excited. Perhaps it was the fact you’d be with the team you loved the most, or that you’d be surrounded and supporting your closest friends, or maybe it was the fantasy of dancing with a certain moustachioed coach who’d caught your eye the minute you joined the club. Who’s to say?
Becoming Richmond’s newest physio was the best decision you’d ever made. You’d made some lifelong friendships, and experienced laughter like never before. Of course you’d worked at football clubs before, but there truly was no place like Richmond.
You were reflecting on your time there, gazing out of the wall to wall windows in Rebecca’s office, half watching training on the pitch outside as she huffed and puffed, weighing up her options for tonight’s gala.
‘I can’t believe you don’t plan your outfit in advance, Rebecca. You’ve been doing this how many years?’ You said as you made your way to the middle of the room, standing behind her.
‘I’ve always done it like this, and it’s always been fine.’ She turned from her clothing rail to face you, holding up a shimmering streak of silk on a hanger, thrusting it towards you. ‘What do you think of this?’
You lit up as you looked at the golden silk dress she was holding in front of your face. ‘You absolutely have to wear that. Yes.’ Though your tone was meant to instil confidence, you met her eyes which were decidedly less so, her face scrunched up.
‘Rebecca, it’s beautiful, you have to wear it. You need to outdo all of us, remember? You’re the hostess.’
You figured you must have won her over, as she returned it to the rail and dropped down to look at her shoes, changing the subject. ‘What are you wearing, anyway?’
You huffed a laugh from your nose, having prepared yourself for that inevitable question, but you were saved as Keeley came running through the door, with such force you were shocked it was still on its hinges.
‘Rebecca, I-. Oh, hi babe,’ She was flushed and windswept, clearly in a rush to speak to Rebecca, but her eyes lit up nonetheless when she saw you. ‘Excited for tonight? Can’t wait to see you all glammed up.’
‘Actually, I was just asking her what she’s going to wear.’ You paled as the two most stylish women you’d ever met centred their attention solely on your outfit for tonight. You produced your phone from your pocket, showing them a badly taken photo in a terribly lit changing room of you in a floor length navy dress. You were pleased to hear them both gasp.
‘Babe, you are gonna look so fucking FIT!’ Keeley squealed, squeezing your arm.
‘What’s the back like? We’re not finished with you yet.’ Rebecca knew you’d be eager to see the boys after training, but was too nosy to let you go just yet.
You slid along in your camera roll, showing a photo of the dress from the back. It was backless, with only the high halterneck at the top, and the low V at the back leading into the skirt, the image of which produced another squeal from Keeley, and Rebecca’s signature sly smirk.
‘Is it too revealing? I was a bit worried so I’ve got a little shawl just in-case.’ You confided in the women, but by the looks on their faces, your fears were unfounded.
‘Absolutely not. I look forward to seeing you in it. Now training has just finished, and I believe a certain Coach Lasso wanted a word from you, so you’re off the hook for the shoe talk.’ Your boss said, freeing you from discussing any more clothing options which you’d done all morning.
‘See you later yeah?’ Keeley shot you a wink as you hustled out of the door and downstairs into the locker room.
You were relieved to see Trent, a man you’d become inseparable with since starting at Richmond, loving that there was someone else looking from the outside in at the beginning. He was, as always, looking decidedly fashionable, and after your talk with the girls, you just had to ask what he was wearing tonight.
‘Oh, darling that’s a secret.’ He looked like the cat that got the cream, knowing the anticipation would irritate you. ‘You’ll see me when I pick you up, alright?’
‘I look forward to it, Mr Crimm.’ He raised his mug to you as you slid through the dividing door of the two offices, almost walking straight into Roy because you couldn’t take your eyes off of Ted, and for good reason.
Ted was stood facing the pyramid poster which he was using as a makeshift mirror, as he trimmed his moustache in its reflection. He had his shirt and jumper off, with only his white beater covering his top half. It took Roy elbowing you to come back to the present.
‘Is anyone in this building doing any actual work today, or are we all just getting ready for Rebecca’s gala?’ you asked the near silent room, noises only coming from Trent’s pen scratching across his notebook, and Beard’s humming.
The blank looks you got from the three men in front of you told you the answer was that absolutely no work had been done, nor would get done, for the rest of the day.
‘Oh, hey there, I was just gettin’ cleaned up for tonight.’ Ted said as he finally brushed the chopped hairs off his beater and sent a dazzling smile your way. ‘I needed to ask you somethin’ actually.’
‘Rebecca said. Hit me.’
‘Well the coaches and I were wonderin’ what table you’re gon’ be on tonight. I hope it ain’t table four.’ He said with a slight chuckle. You noted that for later, whatever that could possibly mean.
‘Uh, table twelve I think, why?’
‘Same as me and Coach Kent here! I was just thinkin’ it’d be nice to sit with someone different this year, so maybe Rebecca’s finally separated me and Beard.’ Beard looked like he could not have cared less, as long as Jane was with him.
‘Oh, yeah that’s great, you’ll be with me and Trent then.’ You said, earning a huff from Roy who was still harbouring some resentment towards the journalist and your dearest mate.
You could see in Ted’s eyes that he was gearing up to ask another question, see the cogs turning in his head. You watched as Beard’s eyes met his, shooting him something of a warning look, so you decided to make yourself scarce and head back to the treatment room incase any of the players needed you, though it wasn’t uncommon for them to find you in the Coach’s office anyway. As you got halfway down the corridor, you heard Ted’s distinctive footsteps making their way down there with you, though he didn’t accost you until you were in your desk chair and settled.
Ted knocked gently on the door, poking his head around the gap he’d created as he opened it. You motioned for him to sit on the massage bench, and smiled as he hopped up there.
‘You okay, Coach? What can I do you for?’
‘Well, I was just wonderin’ if you had a date to tonight’s gala. You see, last time I had no date, which is fine, and I know it’s late notice, but I was just thinkin’ maybe you’d like to go with me, if you don’t have one. Not that I’d assume you don’t, of course. Pretty lady like you, but you know, I just thought I’d ask.’ At the end of his spiel, he finally met your eyes, and inevitably saw the soft blush creeping across your face.
‘I’m sorry Ted, I do have a date. He’s picking me up, too, so it’s kind of a done deal.’ You gave him a sympathetic smile, one you hoped was hiding your disappointment that he hadn’t asked you before Trent, because you might’ve been spending your evening very differently if he had.
‘Well, I shoulda known. Mind me askin’ who it is?’ You could tell he was slightly embarrassed, but in classic Ted fashion, it was almost impossible to detect.
‘Of course, it’s Trent. We’re going as friends. I know he’s not a plus one or anything, but who wouldn’t want to be on his arm for a gala, right?’ You laughed as you said that last part, knowing Ted saw Trent for the stylish and handsome man you’d all gotten to know the true heart of. He laughed along too, nodding in agreement, but you didn’t expect the relieved look that crossed his face. Had you imagined that?
At 8pm sharp, Trent Crimm was honking the horn of his classic Mercedes outside your house, and subsequently pressing the bell of your front door. He was an excellent timekeeper, ever prompt. He repeated pressing the bell, causing you to shout out of the window, getting a split-second glimpse of the man looking up at you from the front stoop. He looked breathtaking.
You grabbed your bag, a silver clutch, and stamped your feet a few times to ensure your strappy silver stilettos had been tied correctly, and snatched the navy tulle shawl at the last minute to shield you from the breeze that had arrived within the last few hours. At the front door, you took one last look at yourself, hair impeccably styled, allowing your backless dress to shine, and the makeup that you’d been working to perfect over the past few days. After a final spritz of perfume, you unlocked the door, locked it, and then finally set eyes on your date, whose mouth was thoroughly open and lost for words.
‘Speechless Trent Crimm? Surely there’s an award for that.’ You mused as he took your hand, leading you to the frankly fabulous car, and opening the passenger door for you. ‘Wait, Trent. Give me a good look at you.’
He obliged, removing his hand from his pocket and fluffing his hair slightly, allowing you to fully survey him.
He was dressed impeccably, tailored perfectly to the last millimetre in a mesh, flouncy black shirt peeking out from a black blazer embroidered in twirling patterns of gold and silver, paired with black velvet high-waisted trousers, and a heeled boot.
‘Trent, you’ve outdone yourself. All of the players are gonna want you for themselves.’
‘I could say the same about you darling!’ he shouted, rounding the car and stepping in.
Being around a man like Trent at events like this made you feel so much more confident. He carried himself so well, with his fantastic outfit, always perfect hair, and glasses that belied the huge intelligence within. Trent was catlike, serene and sauntering, and you hoped that having you on his arm would make him feel even more relaxed, having a friend in close confidence throughout the night.
As you made your way into the venue, the two of you took red carpet photos, Trent’s hand resting warmly on your bare back, and when he took his leave, he took your shawl with him, motioning for you to turn and get the back of your outfit photographed.
Because of your hurrying making you and Trent late for your already fashionably late arrival time, basically everyone was already inside, and Trent was talking to the three Coaches, Higgins, Rebecca and Keeley when you walked in. Keeley’s scream was bloodcurdling as she wrapped you in a crushing hug and thrust a glass of champagne at you, leading you towards the gaggle of Richmond’s nearest and dearest who were now all looking at the two of you. You were too focused on Trent giving you the shawl back to notice that Ted looked thoroughly starstruck.
An hour later, three martinis and one Rupert Mannion showing up unannounced, the evening was unfolding into something of an eventful one. You were sitting by yourself at the bar, gazing into the bottom of your dredged glass when a sharp dressed man sidled up to you, brushing your arm with his hand. As you tore your eyes from the empty glass, you saw it was Rupert, and, trying to play the ‘kill em with kindness’ game that Rebecca had instilled in you if such a situation was to arise, you stilled yourself from jumping at the sight.
‘What’s a pretty lady like you doing all alone?’ His tone was sumptuously sweet, far too charming to be a true representation of his character. You played along nonetheless.
‘Deciding if four martinis in an hour is too many.’ You batted your eyelashes at him, trying your best to play the part, but it was clearly working as he motioned for the bartender to get another two martinis sent your way.
‘Certainly not enough martinis, I’d say.’ He chuckled, handing you a fresh one and sliding your empty glass to the awaiting hands of the bartender, brushing his fingers with yours as he did.
You entertained him for a while with nothing but mindless, uninterested flirting and empty small talk, and were more than relieved when Ted made himself apparent, standing behind you as you perched on a barstool, with his hand possessively on your bare upper back.
‘Hey there Rupert, I see you’re keeping this one company.’ He shot you a glance, a question of whether he needed to get you the hell out of there, but your returning look told him you could hold your own. Ted was nonetheless irritated, and went through several stages of realisation as he processed why he felt that way. Maybe Beard had been right all along. Huh.
‘She’s fantastic, Ted. I wonder where you got her.’ Rupert’s signature uncanny laugh rang true in your ears, the presence of Ted making you note just how irritating it was, especially when the man you really wanted was holding you so defensively. He was being an excellent sport regardless of the harboured hate you knew he had, as much as harbouring hate was possible for a man like Ted.
Ted chuckled, though his smile didn’t reach his eyes, you saw as you gazed up at him. ‘Well, I’d tell you but I’d have to kill you, wouldn’t I?’
You laughed along to Ted’s dad joke, unsure of which direction the conversation could go after this.
‘I just feel like I’ve never seen such a pretty woman in my life, like you’ve been keeping her secret, Teddy.’ Rupert was smiling heartily, but his tone was threatening. You needed to wrap this up.
‘Thank you Rupert. That’s so kind, and thanks again for the drink, but I’m gonna have to dash to the loo.’ You hopped off your stool, giving Rupert a tight and polite smile, almost falling into Ted as you stood.
‘Now, now, not so fast. How am I supposed to get a hold of you if you dash off like Cinderella at the ball, eh?’ Rupert had now gripped your arm, rendering you speechless, frightened like a deer in headlights, not having expected him to be so forward with someone working from Richmond, let alone in front of their manager.
‘Ahhh, she didn’t tell you, did she?’ You felt Ted chuckle from beside you, his arm having slid around your bare waist after your almost-fall off the stool. You were looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows, wondering what on earth he could possibly be talking about. Rupert’s face was much the same as Ted leaned into him, readying himself to bestow a big secret. ’Now, we like to keep it private, so don’t go runnin’ your mouth, ‘kay, but me and this gorgeous lady right here,’ he made a gesture between the two of you, dazzling smile still plastered to his face, ‘we’re sorta an item, you catch me?’
Had he seriously just told Rupert you were dating? You could shout at Ted later, but for now you just felt a flood of relief as Rupert clapped him on the back.
‘Sorry about that, old chap. She didn’t mention a thing about you. Better keep her on a leash, eh?’ Rupert chuckled, raspy and lascivious, and shot Ted another wink, clapping him on the back again before he gave you a smile and disappeared without another trace.
‘Are you kidding me, Ted?’ you turned to face him, your bare back pressed against the cool, grounding metal of the bar-top. His eyes were still sparkling with the excitement and adrenaline of the ordeal, but shifted to concern when he saw your blanched face. He moved his hands up to rub your upper arms comfortingly, soothing you.
‘Hey, I know it wasn’t the cleverest idea, but he left you alone, and I should’a stepped in sooner. I’m sorry, I truly am.’ He looked it, too. His warm brown eyes sorrowful beneath his knitted eyebrows, shadowed by the single strand of hair that had escaped his immaculate coif. It was the first time you’d gotten a good look at him tonight. Up close, at least. You’d been looking at him longingly across the room all evening, not yet having gotten to your assigned tables.
‘Thank you.’ You couldn’t help but smile. There really was nothing to be upset about. He’d stepped in, saved you from a depth you now realise you couldn’t handle, and not harmed anyone in the process. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing the side of your face into his tuxedoed chest, and were relieved when he returned the gesture, resting his chin on top of your head.
‘I’m sorry I almost shouted at you, you’ve just saved me from that twat and I almost got mad at you! You saved my arse.’ You pulled out of the hug, but he still held you in his arms.
‘Anytime, sweetheart.’
You tried to ignore the hair on your body standing on end at the petname, focusing on the task at hand. ’Now what are we supposed to do about the rest of the night if Rupert thinks we’re a thing? How am I supposed to flirt with all the footballers now Ted?’ You joked, looking up at him. He knew the first half of your question was sincere, though, and pursed his lips as he thought about it for a moment.
‘Well, I’m in the bid, so you could just bid on me, play it off as sorta a joke and then he won’t suspect a thing.’ He beamed when he came to that conclusion. There was one issue though.
‘Won’t everyone we know get suspicious if I bid on only you?’
‘Good point.’ You’d stumped him again.
You and Ted went and sat at table twelve, too immersed in plotting your moves for the rest of the evening to notice your friends already getting suspicious that the two of you were indeed dating, without even having to lie to their faces about it.
Rebecca and Keeley were stood offstage, waiting for the bidding to start, as Rupert did some annoyingly stellar crowd work, once again hosting the bidding itself. ‘Do you think they’re a thing?’
‘God, I hope so. Ted mentions how pretty she is at girl talk at least twice a week. And they’d definitely make a good couple.’ Rebecca was stress eating the shortbreads that she’d stored away for the evening from her biscuits with the boss session the morning of.
They were too intent on watching you two scheme, whispering to each other closely, laughing and smiling to notice Roy arise from the shadows. ‘Is Lasso fucking our fucking physio?’ The two women jumped, not sensing Roy, or seeing him in his classic all black, blending in with the scenery.
‘Hi babe. We defo think they like each other, but you spend more time with both of ‘em, so what do you think?’ Keeley turned towards her boyfriend, wrapping an arm around his back.
‘Ted definitely talks about her more than he should. As long as she doesn’t tell him about my noises when she massages my hamstrings, I couldn’t give a fuck.’ They all gave a simultaneous shrug, realising they all felt the same way. As long as they kept it professional, what did it matter?
‘Yeah, it is exciting though, isn’t it?’ Keeley couldn’t deal with being so nonchalant about seeing two of her closest friends looking so in love.
‘Keeley is going to scream bloody murder when she gets it out of me, Ted.’ You had your head in your hands, laughing self-depreciatively, appreciating the warmth of Ted’s hand rubbing circles on your upper back as you slouched further down your chair.
Ted pried your hands from your face, but never let them go as he looked into your eyes. ‘Just don’t say it too easily, we have to make it believable otherwise Rupert’ll catch on and try and pursue you, alright?’
‘Ted, this is so silly. You know that. Also, Trent might just die.’ You chuckled, knowing it absolutely had the potential to send your best friend into cardiac arrest if he found out you’d been ‘seeing’ Richmond’s manager, and more importantly hadn’t told him about it.
‘I know. It’ll all be right as rain as soon as it’s over. Now I gotta go get bid on – by you hopefully – so sit tight.’ Ted got up from his chair, hearing the announcement that bidding was about to start, knowing he was one of the first, and wanted to be ready to go onstage. Clearly the adrenaline and absurdity of the moment captured him as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, disappearing to the front of the room.
You were taken aback, having to take a long sip of your drink to play it cool, but Trent crept up and sat beside you, and you knew you’d struggle lying to him.
‘You and Coach Lasso, then?’ Trent looked positively smug, investigative journalism written all over him, but his façade cracked immediately as he giggled like a teenage girl, smiling giddily at you. ‘I knew it would happen, I just wasn’t sure if you’d tell me, but I see tonight is a low key date night, yes?’ How wrong he was.
‘Yeah, Ted wants to go a bit more public tonight. I guess the gala and everything is making him a bit more confident in us.’ It felt weird lying to Trent, but the fantasy you’d constructed in your head flowed like honey from your mouth, as if there was some truth in it.
You thanked God that Trent wasn’t in a grilling mood, and that the bidding had started. Ted was third in the lineup, and you won a date with him for £7,000. You’d have to get that money off him by hook or by crook, but you guessed he deserved it for saving your ass tonight.
As he was stood onstage you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, but he was doing the same, other than when Rupert asked him something. It helped distract you from the almost predatory way Rupert looked at you when you’d bid, despite knowing you were spoken for.
Ted bounded his way offstage, and the whole room stood up to clap as they did for each round, though you were left standing as he was heading straight for you. He made it to where you were standing at the table, and you expected a hug, so wrapped your arms around his torso like you often did. Ted, though, was clearly feeling very confident, knowing the room’s eyes were on the two of you, especially Rupert’s, whose smug smile he could’ve punched straight off. He gripped your hips, pulling you flush to his chest, and kissed you.
It wasn’t a long kiss, but nor was it chaste. He held you there for a matter of seconds, but it felt like lifetimes, feeling him pressed against you, holding you in his arms, feeling the tickle of his moustache beneath your nose and against your lips, feeling the smile creeping onto his face through the kiss.
When he pulled away, he smoothly grabbed your hand, pulling you back down into your seat at the table, his hand hitting your thigh and staying there as you settled. You felt like you were underwater, with Rupert’s voice through the amps blurry and unclear. You could hear his stutter though, the shock of the kiss registering to him, and also the whole room.
As you came back to it, the grounding presence of Ted’s large hand on your thigh made you flush with warmth. He was talking to a fellow fundraiser at your table, acting like this was perfectly normal. When you turned to Trent, it was clear you weren’t dreaming. He had a wry smile plastered across his face, an eyebrow raised in question, but he didn’t say a word, turning back towards the stage like a cat leaning into the rays of sunlight in rapt attention.
Once the bidding was over, Rebecca introduced the musical act, for the second year in a row choosing a busker that Ted had put a recommendation in for. The musician went down a hit, and the dance floor was filled within minutes. You, Ted and Trent were still sat at your table chatting with a few elderly patrons, but before long Colin came over with his boyfriend to get Trent to dance. You watched the three of them dancing to the music, a popular hit which had everyone jumping, the venue almost shaking with the enthusiasm and joy on the dance floor.
You had your head resting on your hand, sipping at your drink and staring at Trent being the life and soul of the dance floor. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at him waltzing with all of the women, being recognised for the catch he is, but your lilting laugh alerted Ted, breaking him out of his conversation with the couple to his left.
Ted’s hand on your thigh moved up to your shoulder, announcing his attention on you, and just as you turn to look at him, he smooths his knuckles down your arm, grasping your hand and taking you to the dance floor.
The two of you make it onto the hardwood of the dance floor, your heels amplified. As soon as you begin twirling to the music, the song fades and moves into a slow number. Ted looks at you, then glances over at Rupert talking at Rebecca to the left of the stage. He grasps the curve of your waist, hand splayed flat and possessively on the plane of your back, index finger curling into the dip of your bare spine. The way he gripped you forced you closer, allowing his foot to slip in between your feet and giving him further purchase to lead the dance. You felt safe knowing he knew how to lead a partner, having never danced properly before.
With your cheek pressed against his chest, you looked up at him, deciding to break the serene, swaying silence between the two of you.
‘Where’d you learn these moves, Coach?’ You couldn’t help but smirk, knowing he’d hate the title in such a casual and familiar setting.
It wasn’t audible, but your proximity allowed you to feel a laugh rumble through him, and the breath from his nose puffing across your cheeks. ’American High School taught me many tricks, Doc.’ Ted said, giving you a wink, suggesting many more tricks up his sleeve than he would ever let on. After all, Rebecca had told you about the darts incident the day you started the job, explicitly telling you not to underestimate the sunny demeanour of the manager.
‘I might just get Trent to go all investigative journalism on you if you say things like that, Ted.’
Ted spoke as he moved the hand not on your spine to hold your hand up, adopting a more effective ballroom hold. ’He can try all he likes, I’m like Pandora’s box sweetheart.’ It was like he could feel the music, knew it was about to swell. As the band became louder, he moved the two of you into a proper dance, trotting around the ballroom. His secure hold on you, and your focus on not falling flat on your face, meant you completely missed Trent and Colin standing stock still as Ted paraded you around the dance floor.
Trent had never seen you look so radiant. You had a beaming smile taking over your face, but he could tell you were concentrating hugely on learning the steps Ted was teaching you. Your dress and shawl were floating behind you with the speed of Ted leading you in a foxtrot across the floor, wisps of hair in your face as you laughed at the sheer joy of properly dancing, held securely and protected in Ted’s arms.
As the song came to an end, Ted twirled you, allowing you to catch your breath. You stood in front of him, hand pressed against his chest, his hand still on your back, both with smiles cracked across your faces.
‘Ready?’ He smiled down at you, a twinkle of anticipation glinting in his eyes.
You only had time to furrow your eyebrows in confusion before he tucked you into his side, dipping you low. It happened in slow motion as his other hand grasped your unsupported hip, giving you something to cling onto as he dipped with you. You let your arm drop from his, realising what he was doing as he slowly, agonisingly slowly, dragged his hand down your leg until his pinkie was in the crook of your knee at which he pulled it up, furthering the dip until he was close enough to whisper in your ear.
‘You think this is workin’?’
Oh yeah, it was working. He meant to put Rupert off the scent of your availability, but it was working to make your crush on him so much more suffocating.
All you could do was laugh as he safely returned you to vertical, hand once again still on your back, though this time it was just his knuckles brushing up and down the dip at your spine, all the way from the crook of your neck to the deep V where your dress began.
You were still giggling as you wrapped a hand around his back and walked in tandem towards your table, once again missing Trent’s speechlessness on the dance floor you’d left behind.
Throughout the rest of the evening, people kept coming to speak to Ted, though he didn’t move from his perch beside you once. You were sandwiched between he and Trent, therefore constantly entertained, but it was hard to fully concentrate on the evening’s proceedings as Ted was always touching you, holding you in some way. If he didn’t have his hand on your thigh, he had his arm draped across the back of your chair, or the flat of his palm pressed on the plane of your lower back, stroking the expanse where deep navy silk met skin.
You figured Trent bought it, whether it was because of the kiss, or the dance, or the easy intimacy between the two of you, or the strange ‘I knew it’ comment he made earlier. Either way, he made next to no mentions about this new relationship you were in.
Towards the end of the night, when patrons had begun to go home to bed, leaving the room full of Richmond’s staff and their loved ones, Beard came to ask Ted to have a ‘talk’ in a quiet corner. He did not look happy, but after a decidedly animated discussion near the bar, he returned Ted to your side with as much of a smile as you thought Beard was capable of.
Though Trent might not have been in a grilling mood, knowing he’d get it out of you eventually, Rebecca and Keeley - and Roy, though he’d never admit he took no convincing to join in - dragged you to the bar and asked for all the details. It was mostly you saying ‘I really couldn’t say’ much to their dismay, and internally dealing with the sinking realisation that you and Ted really had to have a good talk about this situation. You needed to go home with him tonight, you decided; it would add to the myth, specifically convincing Trent and Rebecca as neither you nor Ted would be needing a lift home from them, respectively, and would allow you to figure out a game plan into the wee hours of the morning.
As you were dutifully returned to your table by the sorely disappointed trio, you grasped Ted’s hand, pulling it into your lap, demanding his attention, and whispered fervently into his ear that you needed to go to his tonight. You missed the deep crimson on his face as he told Rebecca he was taking you home and wouldn’t be in need of a ride because as soon as you finished talking, you ran off in search of Trent.
‘Darling, of course it’s fine. If anything, I’m a little jealous.’ Trent’s mouth curled into a smile as he smoothed a wisp of hair behind your ear that had escaped your chignon. He was always making comments on how attractive he thought Ted was, so much so you couldn’t tell if he was joking sometimes.
‘Are you sure? I’m really sorry Trent, I should’ve told you before.’ Your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth tightening. To Trent, you looked sorrowful for leaving him, but to you it was guilt for lying to your dearest friend.
‘Yes! Enjoy your night with your amor, darling. We’ll catch up ASAP.’ He wrapped you in a hug and bid you goodnight, swaggering to his exquisite car. As the car roared to life he blew you a kiss which you caught, laughing, watching him drive off into the chilly night.
You stood on the steps of the beautiful venue alongside centuries old marble pillars, your arms wrapped around yourself, shielding yourself from the cold, until you felt the familiar silk of a blazer being draped around your shoulders.
Turning, Ted was behind you in only his shirt and tie, fidgeting with the collar of his blazer resting on your neck, making sure it didn’t catch on your dress. Once he was happy, he rubbed his hands up and down your arms through the fabric, a gesture you now came to realise calmed him more than you, then came to stand in front of you, gazing down at you.
‘I told Trent I was going home with you.’ You looked at him through your lashes, the guilt of lying once again creeping in.
‘How’d he take it?’ Ted’s eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed in waiting.
‘Annoyingly well,’ you laughed through your nose, ‘he really buys it, you know?’ You could feel the tension disperse as quickly as it had materialised between the two of you.
‘Wow, he’d make a terrible journalist.’ Ted laughed, a full, rumbling, warm chuckle reverberating through your bones. He reached into his dress pants’ pocket for his phone. ‘I’ll call us a cab?’
‘Actually, I’d like it if we could walk, if you don’t mind?’
“Course not, sweetheart.’ He said, returning his phone to its rightful place. ‘You need any loose ends tied before we go?’
‘Mhm, just need to say goodbye to Keeley and Rebecca, and the guys. I’ll be back in a minute.’ You made to go back inside, but felt Ted’s hand on your lower back on the other side of his silken blazer, and knew he was going nowhere.
Ted didn’t leave your side the whole time you bid your goodnights to the players, Beard and Roy, and more importantly, Keeley and Rebecca.
Keeley jumped about three feet in the air when she came bounding over for a hug, squeezing the air out of your lungs and squealing, before pulling you in to tell you she thought Ted was acting like ‘a little guard dog’ around you, but in a ‘cute way.’ You adored her, and gave her a kiss on the cheek before turning to Rebecca, whose arms were waiting reverently for you, as a queen receives her people.
‘Ugh I’m just so pleased for you, my love. Especially seeing him rescue you from Rupert.’ She beamed at you, making sure Ted was in conversation with someone else before she spoke.
Your eyes widened, thinking you’d been caught out. ’You saw that?’
‘I see everything, which is why I’m shocked I didn’t figure it out sooner. You two have hidden very well from me.’ Her signature scrunched-up smile worked its way across her face, and she gave you one last squeeze on the shoulder before releasing you to your beloved players, not failing to raise an eyebrow at you wearing Ted’s blazer.
After about half an hour of saying goodbye to the boys, you and Ted were finally ambling back to his flat through the streets of Richmond. Your arm was looped through his, gripping his bicep, as you stepped in tandem, he in his dress shoes, and you in your heels.
He lived extraordinarily close to the venue, so it was only a five-minute stroll through the town in the cold air night. You were walking in companionable, comfortable silence before you started laughing.
‘Are you drunk?’ Ted chuckled, looking down at you with nothing but warmth.
‘No!’ You managed to breathe out in between fits of giggles, having to stop and fold at the hip to collect yourself somewhat. In fact, you were very sober, only really drinking throughout the first hour, and the ordeal with Ted having rendered you stone cold sober with adrenaline. You’re not sure he believed you, though.
‘What’s so funny then, huh?’ He stood with his hands in his pockets, waiting for you to join him once more to your usual programming, walking together, though he had a large smile cracked across his face, framed by his famous moustache.
‘How on earth,’ You breathed in, standing up and planting your hands on your hips as you collected yourself, regaining your ability to breathe and speak. ‘Did we get ourselves into this situation?’
Sat at Ted’s kitchen table, you were wiping sweat from your brow as he tinkered on with the thermostat.
‘Why is it a million degrees in your flat? It’s April in England, Ted, it should be freezing in here.’ You shouted, hearing him grunt at the clicking noise coming from the box in the hallway.
You made your way beside him to inspect the situation. Clearly he was still on American degrees because he’d set the thermostat to 40. No wonder it was sweltering. You grabbed the wheel, hearing a cry of protest from him before he realised what you were doing. Turning it to 18, Ted seemed to figure out what he’d done and scrubbed a hand across his face.
‘Man, why do you guys use celsius?’
The two of you walked back to the kitchen table, sitting heavily in the cool seats. ‘You’ve been living here for over two years, how did you manage that?’
‘Must’ve been in a rush before the gala, forgot I wasn’t in the states for a sec I guess.’ He sighed, resigned, taking a large gulp of the glass of cold water you’d placed in front of his seat whilst he was messing around with the thermostat.
‘Do you miss it, home?’ Your hands cupped the glass, fogging it up with your body heat, fidgeting to prepare yourself for the answer you knew would upset you. Curiosity killed the cat, you supposed.
It took a few moments for Ted to answer, collecting his thoughts, but when the truth came out, it looked like he wasn’t expecting it either.
‘Actually, not all that much.’ You figured he felt guilt for admitting that he preferred being here, in Richmond, than with Michelle and Henry. You did know, however, that he’d much rather Henry lived here, with him.
‘I was not expecting that.’ The relief that washed over you was immense as you got up to refill your glass.
Ted just shrugged, absorbing the truth he’d been unwilling to admit for some time now.
‘Enough talk about America, we need to get to business.’ Ted almost slammed his glass down, using it like a gavel to begin the discussion the two of you had been putting off all night.
After a while, it began to get a little heated. You and Ted had never truly argued before, at least not about anything personal, though you had come to blows before about making sure a player’s injuries were fully healed before they were allowed to play, allowing you to glimpse the fire inside of him when tested. This, though, was unlike anything you’d seen before.
You were sitting, one leg over the other, at his kitchen table whilst Ted paced, cup of coffee in hand, other hand scrubbing across the stubble growing in on his chin.
‘Ted, I just think it’s not clever to officially tell everyone we’re together when we’re going to have to break up in a few weeks.’
‘But we put that show on tonight for everyone to see,’ he took a sip of his coffee, calming himself, ‘we can’t just tell everyone it was a lie the next morning. It makes no sense.’
You scoff, looking down at your fingernails. ‘It wasn’t for everyone, Ted.’ Your eyes meeting his finally, now seeing the heaving of his chest ‘It was just for Rupert.’
‘Not for me.’ Ted starts pacing again, putting his hand in his pant pocket, shaking his head, hair escaping the gel. ‘Not for me it wasn’t.’ He sounded calm, but there was a grit, an edge to his voice as he spoke.
Once again you look up at him, intrigued by his attitude, and have to catch your breath when you see his tie is loosened, allowing a sliver of chest to escape, damp with the sweat from how hot it was earlier and how worked up he is now. Your eyebrows furrow as his words register in your head.
‘What?’
Once again, he scrubs his hand over his face, clearly at the end of his tether. If anyone from the club were to walk in, they’d think it were freaky friday, with their typically calm coach all fired up, and their frequently irate physio having completely swapped demeanours, you sitting as serene as ever, unaware of what Ted was on the cusp of admitting.
Ted walks, defeatedly over to the sink, leaving you in silence, and drains his coffee mug. He rinses it, then places it in the dish. He looks calmer, but his jaw shifts as he moves over to the opposite side of the table to you. He plants his hands on the surface, and makes sure he has your full attention when he lets out whats been irritating him for months.
‘I can’t stand seeing you with other men anymore, sweetheart.’
You’re sure your heart stops, if even for a split second. Your eyebrows furrow further, creasing above your nose as you look into Ted’s eyes, searching for an answer or explanation. He grants your wish.
He sits on the chair opposite you, arm resting on the surface of the table like he did with the back of your chair at the gala, stretching his fingers towards you, and cards his other hand through his hair.
‘I can’t take it anymore. Hearin’ about your shitty dates every Monday when you talk to Trent ‘bout your weekend. Seein’ how some of the team look at you, talk about you. Beard told me I’d get over you, that I shouldn’t have asked you out tonight, but I just couldn’t deal with it anymore, you know?’ He takes a breath, collects himself, runs his fingers through his hair again, and continues. ‘Then seein’ Rupert talkin’ to you tonight, I was already on edge, and then he grabs you like that? I saw red. ’N I’m real sorry if I’ve messed this all up, but I just can’t not say it anymore, sweetheart.’
Words fail you. Your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Is this a dream? Everything you ever hoped he’d say, he’d just said, and yet you have nothing to say.
Clearly, Ted’s still not finished, and at your silence, he continues rambling. ‘See I felt real bad for makin’ you pretend with me, but then everyone started sayin’ how long it took us to get together, ’n how unsurprised they were, that they were happy for us, ’n I just thought maybe they saw something I didn’t think was possible, you know?’
For the second time that night, all you could do was laugh. This time, though, it was with sheer relief. You covered your face as you laughed, turning sideways on your chair, putting your head between your knees, tears running down your face with how much the laughter gripped you.
You heard Ted move, and before you knew it he was crouched down in front of you, once again prying your hands from your face. He smiled, realising you hadn’t gone completely insane, and brushed your tears away with the pads of his thumbs.
‘I’m sorry.’ Ted looked up at you, eyes full of sorrow.
‘You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that, Ted.’
You leant down and kissed him. Gently, full of meaning, full of love. The first real kiss you had with him, as a real couple.
When Ted woke up, you were gone from his bed.
You could tell he had started panicking that you’d up and left as he came sliding into the living room where you were stood gazing out of the window, laughing gently on the phone to someone, presumably Trent. You turned at the sound of him breathing a sigh of relief, and beckoned him over for an embrace.
As to not disrupt your phone call, he folded his arms around your chest, placing kisses on the crown of your head. He was only in joggers, you wearing the t-shirt he’d abandoned in the night, the thermostat causing havoc on his temperature in bed, preferring to disrobe - as it were - rather than not have you in his arms.
He was trying to be quiet with his peppering of kisses across your hair, but Trent clearly heard, Ted registering a quiet, ‘Hello, Ted’ through the speaker on your phone from the other side.
‘Hey, Trent.’ You felt Ted laugh into your hair, moustache tickling your scalp as he moved to rest his chin on the top of your head. You put the phone on speaker, holding it out so the two of you could hear.
‘He knows everything, by the way.’ You filled Ted in that you’d spilled everything to Trent, not keeping the lie going for very long no matter how truthful it was now.
‘I should’a known. You keep that to yourself, Mr. Crimm, alright?’
Trent’s signature silky chuckle was tinny through the speaker, but it made you both smile, ‘Yes, Coach Lasso.’
At that Ted unwrapped himself from you and you watched him retreating to the kitchen, finally being able to savour staring at him without being caught. His lean back shifted and morphed as he busied himself making a pot of coffee and your mug of tea. You wrapped up your call with Trent, promising to have a real catch-up later in the week, and put your phone on the sofa.
You mimicked Ted’s earlier actions by wrapping your arms around him from behind, but your height meant your face was pressed into his back, and your arms encased where his chest met his stomach. You breathed in deeply, the scent of skin, of Ted, of his faded cologne from last night, and of your own scent, from spending last night wrapped around him as you slept. Ted turned around in your arms, facing you. You were expecting him to kiss you, so you closed your eyes, but he didn’t move. He just stared down at you, drinking in the sight of you in his arms. As you realised he wasn’t going to kiss you, you opened your eyes, but he protested, telling you to close them again. Once again, you waited in anticipation for his lips to press against yours, but instead you felt his moustache brush against your left eyebrow. Ted gently pressed a kiss to your left eyelid, then slowly moved towards your right eye, and did the same. He continued pressing gentle, almost featherlight kisses across your face, finally reaching your lips, at which he lingered, drinking in the moment.
‘I thought you’d left.’ Ted confessed.
‘After what I said last night?’ Your eyebrows raised in surprise. You didn’t expect Ted to be so insecure to think that, let alone admit it.
‘It just didn’t feel real, I guess. Thought I was dreamin’’ Ted smiled, moustache curling up as you reached your hand through the loop of his embrace to brush a stray hair out of his face.
‘I thought you had gone insane last night, Ted.’ You closed your eyes, laughing gently at the memory of his behaviour. When you opened them, smile still creasing your eyes, Ted’s look of confusion told you that he needed elaboration. ‘The lie to Rupert, the kiss. Jesus, Ted, the dance?’ You properly laughed, then, and were delighted to hear him laugh, too.
‘I probably wasn’t thinkin’ straight, that’s for sure.’ He tilted his head to the side, a dog trying to see something from another angle, analysing the details of your skin in the morning light. ‘Couldn’t help myself, when you were lookin’ like that.’
‘Hmm,’ you hummed in satisfaction, finally hearing him admit he liked how you looked last night in truth, not as a ruse. ‘I could say the same about you, mister. You scrub up well.’
Ted’s response was a simple laugh, unwrapping his arms from behind you with the air of a bird of prey unfolding its wings, turning to the fridge to cook breakfast.
As the two of you chatted about work, friends, family, the gala - anything - over breakfast, it occurred to you how easily the domestic side of being in a relationship had come to you. Sure, it had only been a few hours, but you wondered how you were going to spend mornings without Ted from now on. You pictured your life unfolding in front of you with him: markets on Sundays, slow weekend mornings, late nights by the light of the TV, taking Henry to games when he visited, cooking dinner, going home from work together, team bonding nights out, playing board games, falling asleep on the couch.
You were launched out of your reverie by Ted’s phone ringing.
‘It’s the boss’ he clarified, eyes widening in feigned fear as he lifted the phone up to his ear, turning up the volume so you could hear. You shifted into the chair beside him, rather than opposite, to improve your hearing, and were gratified when Ted placed his warm hand on your bare thigh, smiling at you as he listened to Rebecca vent about last night. You could hear her winding down as Ted muttered a multitude of ‘mhm’s, ‘yeah’s and ‘yes ma’am’s down the phone.
‘Anyway,’ Rebecca collected herself, ‘how’s the missus?’
Ted’s eyebrows immediately furrowed, clearly not knowing what she meant. ‘You know I don’t have a wife, Boss.’
You could practically hear her eyes roll through the phone. ‘Our beloved physio, Ted. Your secret girlfriend who went home with you last night. Ring any bells?’
He looked at you, smirking sheepishly at not catching the turn of phrase, ‘Ding, ding, ding! Loud and clear, Boss.’
‘So? How is she?’ Rebecca was prying for details, you knew from your weekly girl talk session, the one without Ted, but Ted once again missed her meaning.
‘Oh! She’s right here, you can ask her yourself, if you want?’ He was passing the phone to you, bright crimson, before Rebecca even got the chance to form the word ‘no’ in her mind.
‘Hi.’ You tried to seem jovial. You didn’t think it worked.
‘Hi.’ Rebecca countered. Riveting.
‘Your gala was beautiful, Rebecca, seriously.’ Your voice was earnest and steady as you bestowed your compliment.
‘Thank you, darling.’ You could hear her shifting, preparing for something, making you a little on edge. ‘You do know that you still technically have to date Ted, even if he’s your boyfriend. It’s contractual.’
You laughed, full of relief. ‘Yes, of course.’ You looked at Ted, listening dutifully. ‘My pleasure.’ Something else came to your mind before you passed the phone back to him. ‘I’m sure he’ll tell all at girl talk, don’t worry.’
‘Oh, he will. Me and Keeley always get it out of him. I’ll talk to you on Monday, okay dear?’
‘See you Monday, Boss. Here’s Ted.’
A/N: Thankyou all for all the love on my previous fics!! Wanna kiss you all on the mouth xx
This is a Ted Lasso fic i’ve had cooked up for a while that I unearthed recently and put some life back into, so here it is. Hope you love a fake dating trope as much as I do <3
Also, I may make this a series/expand on it but lmk what you think xx
TED LASSO 2.10 | No Weddings and a Funeral
Anthony Stewart Head, "Ted Lasso", season 3
Pour out some extra love for the Merlin, Ted Lasso, and especially the Buffy fandoms today:
𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜 𝐌𝐜𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
a/n: thank you anon, I hope this is to your liking! P.s., I love Ted Lasso so request as much as you like!
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
