stitchattacks

[stitchattacks]

PIPSQUEAK: table of contents

summary: Y/N is a single mom who recently joined the Smosh cast. Unfortunately, she can't help but keep falling for a certain Games Channel director. She'll need to navigate her new online stardom, what's best for her daughter, and what's best for her.

series wordcount: 3,423

chapters: 2

CHAPTER ONE: Smosh Daycare

summary: When Y/N's daughter's daycare is unexpectedly shut down for the day, she has no other choice but to bring her to the Smoffice. Hopefully, she won't be totally fired for her unprofessionalism, as she thinks will happen.

warnings: mild cursing, mention of past divorce and cheating

word count: 1,683

CHAPTER TWO: What Are Friends For?

summary: Spencer can see how much Y/N is struggling and knows that she needs some TLC.

warnings: light swearing, casual/social drinking (Y/N has one margarita)

word count: 1,740

[stitchattacks]

gif cred belongs to @haasmaxxing

requested by anon "Can you do one with Damien but it's a video about sports kinda like the video "Smosh plays Athletic game during summer" but they are surprised that one of their best camera crew is surprisingly very athletic, kinda like a bodybuilders sleeper build. I can imagine how funny it be if they are small yet is able to deadlift Damien or some of the other cast like nothing, maybe they use to be a firefight/paramedic but retired from it early on o( ❛ᴗ❛ )o"

imagine it being revealed that you're jacked during smosh summer games and damien secretly loving it

"y/n could out-lift anyone here," shayne sighed, hands on his hips as he sized up his opposing team for summer games. "they're my real concern." you just turned and smiled at the camera, not innocently, but not maliciously.

"you think all the camera equipment has them like, secretly jacked?" damien questioned with a chuckle, thinking shayne's demeanor was joking.

"oh, no, like they're actually jacked," shayne said, turning to his friend as your team laughed and turned to you. "like their sleeper build has me horrified." you laughed loudly, a small flush coming to your cheeks at the compliment.

"wait, i wanna see this," ian spoke, holding his hands out. he raised his eyebrows at you. "how jacked are we talking?"

you chuckled, "i was a paramedic before i started slinging cameras." jaws dropped all around you. "i had to be prepared to carry people triple my weight up and down multiple flights of stairs multiple times a day. i retired early when i saw too many things that made it hard to sleep at night."

"okay, y/n lore drop!" courtney cheered, making everyone laugh.

"so, like, you think you could bench damien?" ian asked.

you turned your eyes to damien, sweeping your gaze over his body in a way that made him shiver. the look you were giving him felt like you weren't just sizing him up. you smiled at him and his gut twisted when you tilted your head, too. "yeah, but it'd be like a warmup." dramatic shouts, 'ooo's, and laughter immediately erupted from the cast and you shot damien a wink that nearly had his jaw dropping.

damien had always thought you were cute behind the cameras, but this bolder side of you had his heart racing. and finding out you could lift him without breaking a sweat? a thousand thoughts rushed through his brain, most of them dirty, but all culminating to one thing: his crush on you was only going to grow during these games. he was just going to have to find some way to hide it from you and the cameras.

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At Last

read part 2 here!

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k (oopsies)

Warnings: cursing, kissing. no fantastic four spoilers, don't worry!

Summary: On Earth-828, once you turn 16, soulmates are allowed to send each other a single gift every year on New Years Day. You're in your late 20s now and still have yet to find your match, and there's no way it's Johnny Storm.

A/N: hello yes hi it is me, coming back after a dry spell of 3 years lmao. pls be kind I am rusty!!!! feedback gives me life :)

“For the millionth time, Johnny Storm is not my soulmate.”

You rolled your eyes, tossing another handful of popcorn into your mouth as you watched the Fantastic Four member himself on your television screen. Tonight was New Years Eve, and the superhero group was invited to help host the annual New York City Ball Drop. There were 6 minutes left until midnight, and you were getting antsy.

Because New Years Eve didn’t just mean a brand new year. It meant another gift. From your soulmate. 

Every year since you turned 16 years old, you received a gift handpicked from your soulmate at midnight on New Years Day, like everyone else. Unfortunately, no gift was allowed to include something helpful like your name or address (you’d tried multiple times, but the gifts always ended up vanishing into thin air as soon as you attempted to drop it off at the post office), so gifts were supposed to be strategically picked. Something to give insight into who you are, and how you valued your future relationship.

When the two of you were still teenagers, the gifts lacked…sentimentality. You simply weren’t sure what to send a stranger that you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with. They’d consisted of vacation souvenirs, a photograph of your pet, random knick-knacks. And you had received similar items. 

But as you both got older, the gifts became a bit more special. Two years ago he sent you a vinyl of Frank Sinatra’s “The Best Is Yet To Come,” and you played it on repeat for months. The following year, you sent him a vinyl of Etta James’ “At Last,” a thank-you for the vinyl he’d sent you. It was the song you always imagined would be playing the day of your wedding day. This year, you sent him a leather bracelet you made yourself, and you couldn’t wait to see what he got you this year.

Because last year’s gift from your soulmate was a bit…odd.

It was a collectible action figure of Johnny Storm.

And your best friend Violet had not shut up about it for the entirety of the last year.

“Totally, Y/N, that’s why your soulmate gave you a collectibles version of his action figure,” she retorted.

You sighed. How many times have you had this conversation? “Maybe he just works for the Fantastic Four. Or he’s a fan.”

“Whatever you say,” she singsonged. “It really wouldn’t be that weird, Y/N. Your firm works closely with them anyways.”

She had a point, but it was still outlandish. You were a communications assistant at a PR firm that worked directly with the superhero group, but you were pretty low on the food chain, and you’d never had any direct contact with any of them. 

“Yes, I work at a PR firm with hundreds of employees, most of which would be chosen over me to speak with the world’s most famous superheroes.”

“You never know, all employees could show up sick one day and you’ll be the only one left. Then you’ll have to talk with them!”

You shook your head in annoyance. She was being ridiculous. “It’s easy for you to joke about because you don’t have to deal with any of this. You already have your person.” 

Violet was one of the lucky ones who found her soulmate when she was really young. 18 to be exact. Once she met him, she got to exchange her gifts in person. Given that you were halfway through your 20s and not any closer to finding yours, you were just a tad jealous. You couldn’t be too upset, though, because her soulmate Mike always let her spend New Years Eve with you. It had become your yearly tradition, and he never came between that.

Violet gave you a sympathetic look. “I’m just trying to be optimistic!”

“By trying to convince me that my soulmate is an unattainable, insanely attractive superhero that dates a different girl every week?” 

Violet opened her mouth to respond, but the newscaster’s voice on the television interrupted your conversation. 

“So, Johnny, any hopes for the new year? Maybe to finally find that special soulmate?” 

Your heart raced as you watched him on the television screen. He and his superhuman team were all bundled up in snowy downtown New York City, the big Apple that was set to drop in 3 minutes gleaming high above them in the background. 

Johnny gave the man an easy grin. “That would certainly be nice, Chris. I’ve been dreaming of her since I was a teenager!”

Violet nudged your shoulder with a knowing grin, which you returned with another eye roll.

“But, then again, you’d have thousands of hearts to break!” The news camera panned over to the crowd of screaming women, several of whom were holding up “I <3 Johnny” posters. 

You shook your head. There’s no way he could be yours. As if you could compete with that.

The camera cut back to Johnny, who gave the girls a wink and chuckled as they went wild. “Well, Chris, that’s just the way it’ll have to be. Once I meet my soulmate, she’ll be it for me.” 

“And she will certainly have her hands full,” Sue cut in, leaning towards the microphone. Johnny playfully shoved her away, a smirk still on his face as Reed watched and shook his head. You smiled watching the interaction; they seemed like such a fun group.

“Do you have any hints as to who this lucky lady might be?” The newscaster began. “Tell us what you got her for her gift this year.”

Johnny looked surprisingly unsure at the question, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “Ah, I’d rather keep the gifts between her and me. Y’know, privacy and all that. Plus, I think that might be considered cheating at finding my soulmate, right?” 

Before Chris could say anything, Ben interrupted. “Well look at that, Johnny following the rules for once!”

Bickering broke out between the Fantastic Four, and the newscaster went back to the camera. “Well, there you have it, folks! Johnny Storm is a softy for his sweetheart, whoever she may be. Let’s hope the new year brings them both together. And now, it is time for the one minute countdown! Let’s bring on the new year!”

Your heart started pounding the way it always did at the one-minute mark. Violet grabbed your hand as you both watched the Apple slowly make its way down.

10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…

“Happy new year!”

You and Violet exchanged a hug before tossing popcorn in the air, laughter bubbling in your gut as she danced wildly around your living room. 

“Now go look! I can’t stand the suspense any longer!”

You grinned, suddenly ignoring the superheroes celebrating on your television screen, and ran to your front door. 

And there it was, sitting perfectly on your doorstep.

A perfectly wrapped, light blue box with a white bow on it.

You wasted no time in swiping it up and running back inside to your living room, haphazardly slamming the door behind you.

“What is it what is it what is it,” Violet chanted, her eyes glued on the gift. 

You quickly untied the bow and opened up the box, an audible gasp leaving your lips at what was inside. 

A little black box.

“Oh my god, is it a ring?” 

You swallowed, your heart pounding. “Don’t be silly, how would he even know my ring size?”

She shrugged. “I dunno, he probably guessed. You can always get it resized once you meet if it doesn’t fit. Now open it before I do!”

You opened the box and immediately let out the breath you were holding. 

It was a small, silver band with the most stunning stone you’d ever seen. In fact, you’d never seen anything like it.

Sitting in the middle of the shiny silver band was a round, black, shining stone with flecks of red inside it that seemed to glow when you held it up in the light. It almost looked a little like tiny specks of lava.

“Holy crap,” you muttered, unable to keep your eyes off of it.

“Holy crap is right,” Violet agreed. “That thing is gorgeous. What kind of stone even is that?” 

“I have no idea.” You wasted no time in trying it on, and positively beamed when you found it fit on both ring fingers before you settled on putting it on your right ring finger. You weren’t sure if it was supposed to be an engagement ring or more of a promise ring, and it felt odd to act as if you were engaged to someone you didn’t actually know, even if it’s your soulmate. One day I’ll be able to put it on my left hand, you thought. 

Violet gathered up her things, preparing to head out for the night. “It’s beautiful, Y/N,” she remarked, smiling at you. “And it’ll be even more beautiful when Johnny Storm puts it on your left hand.”

You threw a pillow at her as she headed out the door. 

“Yeah, yeah. Happy New Year!”

***4 months later***

“I look ridiculous. Do I look ridiculous?” You paced around your living room, wringing your hands nervously. 

Tonight, you were going to a gala. But not just any gala. A gala at the Baxter Building.

The Fantastic Four was hosting a massive charity event/gala, and invited everyone who worked closely with them or for them. Which included your PR firm. 

Technically, not everyone in your firm was allowed to go, as your company had too many employees. But you practically begged your boss to go, and she finally relented and bought you a ticket (only because it was coming out of your paycheck).

You knew it was stupid. Outlandish. Laughable. Impossible. But you had to admit that the possibility of your soulmate being involved with the Fantastic Four was something you hadn’t stopped thinking about since New Years Eve. You knew there was no way it could be Johnny Storm, but it wouldn’t be too insane of an idea to think your soulmate could work closely with the group in some other way. And you didn’t want to waste this opportunity. 

“You look incredible, Y/N, don’t be silly.” Violet grabbed your black heels that matched your sleek, black, form-fitting dress and handed them to you. “But there’s one little thing missing.” You furrowed your brow, looking down at yourself as you put your heels on. Violet gave you a knowing look before walking over with the little black box you’d been given 4 months ago. “Your soulmate won’t be able to pick you out without this, yeah?”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you slipped the ring onto your right ring finger. “I can’t believe I almost forgot.”

“Yeah, if I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought you were nervous or something.” 

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Alright, I better get going before ‘fashionably late’ turns into ‘embarrassingly late.’”

Violet squealed, heading out the door with you. “It’s going to be amazing, Y/N. No matter what happens! Even if you don’t meet him tonight, at least you’ll get to see the Four up close.”

You nodded, giving your best friend a salute before getting in your car. 

You can do this, you told yourself.

***

“Oh, I so cannot do this,” you whispered to yourself.

The lobby of the Baxter Building was completely full of people, none of whom had a familiar face. Everyone was dressed to the nines and looked incredible, and everyone seemed to know each other…except for you. Unfortunately, you didn’t even know where to go. 

Suddenly, a beeping sound appeared next to you. You looked down, and a little robot was staring up at you. You looked around to see if anyone else was seeing this, but no one paid you or the robot any mind. 

“Um, hello?”

The little robot made another beeping sound before rushing away, and you had a feeling he wanted you to follow him.

You followed him over to the elevator, where he pressed the button for you before rushing away once more. “Fascinating,” you whispered, shaking your head in disbelief. 

Before you knew it, the elevator doors opened and revealed the main event. You walked forward a few steps to the balcony overlooking the gala being held right below. It was an incredibly large, lavish place, with even more people roaming about than in the lobby. Jazzy piano music combined with the sound of hundreds of people conversing played all around you. It was dizzying. Everyone looked at ease with a drink in their hand…everyone except for you. You began gnawing at your bottom lip as you made your way to the stairs, a habit you only picked up when you were really, truly anxious. Bracing yourself, you picked up your gown in your hands to avoid tripping in your heels, and slowly made your way down the stairs in an effort to find a single person you were familiar with. 

**

“You’re lying, Ben.”

“I’m not lying, you’re just mad you can’t hold your liquor like I can.”

Johnny Storm was in the corner of the gala with a drink in his hand, bickering with Ben over how many alcoholic drinks he could down before actually getting wasted.  

“No human being on planet Earth can down that many shots and not feel anything.” He stared at Ben incredulously. 

Ben deadpanned. “We’re not exactly regular human beings, Johnny.”

“Yeah, well no, but even I can’t down ten shots and not feel like I’m about to—“

Johnny looked up as he was talking, and suddenly forgot how to speak. 

Because walking down the stairs, wearing his ring, was you.

“Face it, Johnny. You’re a lightweight,” Ben chuckled as he took a sip of his drink, not even noticing that Johnny had stopped speaking. 

“Ben.” Johnny stared at you, mesmerized as you seemed to almost float down the stairs. 

“Do you really want to play this game? Because I can get the bartender right now and she’ll settle this.”

“Ben.” He still couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Alright, fine, I’ll get the bartender—“

“BEN!” 

Ben startled, finally looking at his friend and furrowing his brows. “Jesus, what?”

“My soulmate is over there.” Johnny looked more serious and panicked than Ben had ever seen him, but Ben couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head.

“Yeah, sure, Johnny. Go talk to your ‘soulmate’ so you get out of losing a drinking contest.”

Johnny rubbed a hand down his face in frustration before leaning in closer. “Ben, I’m serious. She’s wearing the ring.”

Ben blinked. Oh. “Really?”

Johnny nodded furiously, eyes looking all over the room, looking panicked. “Yeah. Yeah. Oh my god, it’s her. Holy shit. Holy—“

“Johnny.”

Ben placed his giant hands on Johnny’s shoulders, steadying him. “Look at me. You’ve wooed how many women over the years? And this woman in particular was literally made for you. You’ve waited your whole life for her. Go to her.”

Johnny swallowed harshly, nodding and sniffling briefly. “Yeah. Yeah, I got this. I’m Johnny Storm. I can go talk to my soulmate. Totally. Absolutely.”

Ben bit back a laugh, taking Johnny’s drink from him. “Yep. You are Johnny Storm. Now go get her.”

***

You gave up on finding anyone from your PR firm. It was too loud, the lights too dim, the place too crowded to even think straight. So, you did the only thing left to do: headed for the bar.

Bottom lip still trapped between your teeth, you made your way over to the bar when a voice called out from directly behind you. 

“Uh, hi.” 

You turned around at the oddly familiar voice, and there was Johnny Storm, staring at you with wide, nervous eyes and a small, apprehensive smile. 

Holy shit. Holy shit. Say something, you idiot! “Hi,” you breathed out, your brain suddenly turning back on long enough for you to return his small smile. Why was he talking to you? What was happening, why was he—

“Uh, I think…I have something of yours,” he said. Before you could ask him what he meant, he rolled up the sleeve of his black button down shirt and revealed the leather bracelet you had made, wrapped around his wrist.

Suddenly the room seemed all too quiet. You swore you stopped breathing. “Oh my god.” 

Johnny laughed breathlessly, his smile growing wider. “I know.” 

You couldn’t even think straight. This was real, this was happening, and Violet is never going to let you live this down. “That’s…that’s the bracelet I made for my…”

“Soulmate,” he finished for you, his smile turning into something a little smaller, more boyish and shy. “Yeah. And that,” he pointed to the gem on your finger, “Is the ring I had made for my soulmate.” 

You looked down at the shining gemstone before looking back at him. Your heart was pounding in your throat. “You had it made? Where did you find this gemstone? I’ve never seen anything like it, it’s so beautiful.” 

Johnny beamed. “I found it on a different planet, uh, some planet called Sakaar I think. I’d never seen anything like it either, so I had it melted down into a gemstone…for you.”

You were now smiling so wide your cheeks were starting to hurt. Your head shook in disbelief, because of course it wasn’t even from this world. “It’s incredible. And…god, I can’t believe it’s really you.”

Johnny’s grin grew until he couldn’t take it anymore, and suddenly you were in his arms. His cologne and strong arms filled your senses, and you felt like you were about to explode as your arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Jesus, I’ve waited so long for you,” he murmured in your ear, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist. He pulled back suddenly, eyes flitting between yours. “Will you come with me?”

You would follow him anywhere, you decided then. You smiled, nodding. “Yeah.”

Johnny grinned and grabbed your hand. “C’mon.”

You were dizzy with adrenaline as you and Johnny weaved through the crowd until you reached a door, and suddenly you were being pulled into his bedroom. He shut the door behind the two of you, and you gasped as you took it all in.

Because, decorating his shelves, was all of the presents you had sent him over the years. 

“Oh my god, the Turks and Caicos turtle!” You laughed loudly as you wandered up to the turtle bobble head you had sent him from vacation when you were 17. “I cannot believe you kept this.” 

Johnny simply couldn’t stop smiling as he took all of you in, watching as you stared in wonder at all of the mementos. He could not believe you were really here, in front of him, in his bedroom. “Of course I kept it. I kept everything.”

You turned and looked at him then. “So did I.” 

He quirked a brow, smirking. “Even the Johnny Storm action figure?”

You busted out laughing. “Well it is a collectible, of course.” 

“Sue made fun of me relentlessly for that one. Ben did, too,” he shook his head, chuckling. “I wasn’t sure if I should send it or not. Didn’t know if it was too on the nose or self-centered, y’know? But I wanted to give you as much of a hint as I was allowed.”

“My best friend was absolutely ecstatic. She knew it was you from the second she saw it, but I kept trying to convince myself that you were just a fan or something.” 

Johnny swallowed nervously then, looking a little unsure. “Is it—is it okay that I’m…y’know, me?”

“Of course. It’s more than okay, why wouldn’t it be?”

Johnny sat down on his sofa, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, the whole superhero thing could be a deal breaker for some…And I know I have a…reputation.”

You followed him, sitting down next to him. “Hmm, well I distinctly remember Johnny Storm saying that once he met his soulmate, she’d be it for him.”

Johnny turned to you then, eyebrows lifted in surprise as a smile spread across his lips. “You watched my New Years Eve broadcast?”

You mirrored his smile, nodding. 

He dramatically flopped backwards onto his sofa, making you laugh. “God, you really are my soulmate.”

Before you knew it, two hours had gone by. Two hours of sharing life stories, childhood memories. The two of you were currently laying on the floor, side by side, laughing about some of the gifts you’d exchanged over the years.

“What’s your favorite gift though? In all seriousness,” you asked, turning your head to the side to look at him. He was beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he was really yours.

“Hm.” Johnny looked up at the ceiling, eyes squinting in thought. “I love the bracelet you made me this year. I never take it off. Buuuut I think my favorite is the vinyl you gave me a couple years ago.” 

You smiled, sitting up on your elbow to prop your head up. “Yeah?” 

Johnny sat up to mirror your position. “Yeah. I played it nonstop the first few months after I got it. Ben threatened to break my record player.” You both laughed when suddenly Johnny looked serious and stood up. You sat up, furrowing your brow.

“What is it?”

Johnny bowed dramatically, holding his hand out for you to take. “My lady, may I have this dance?”

You giggled, taking his hand and allowing him to help you up. “Why yes, I think you may.”

Johnny grinned, muttering a “one sec,” before putting the Etta James record on. The sweet, slow melody filled your ears, and Johnny placed his hand in yours, his other wrapping around your waist. He pulled you close, and the two of you began to slowly sway. 

At last

My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

Your chest swelled with emotion as he pulled you impossibly closer, his lips brushing your temple as you swayed in time, neither of you speaking, just taking in what you both had waited your entire lives for. 

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill that I have never known

Johnny pulled away then, his eyes never leaving yours as he took your right hand in his. Slowly, he pulled the ring off your right ring finger before gently placing it on your left. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest, your eyes unable to look away from him. He swallowed thickly then, a question swimming in his blue eyes, a “Can I?”

You leaned in, nudged his nose with yours in a silent, “Please.”

His lips gently met yours, and the entire outside world melted away. Your heart sang as his thumb brushed your cheek and he kissed you harder, a quiet, needy whimper escaping his throat. Your hands slid down to wrap around his lower back, bringing him even closer. It was everything you’d ever dreamed of, and it really was with Johnny Storm.

And here we are, in heaven

For you are mine…at last

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Me searching x reader fics after gaining a new fictional crush after watching a movie/serie

[stitchattacks]

Hopeless romantic Johnny Storm played by Joseph Quinn is so important to me.

This clip is the full version of what we’ve seen cut up as a teaser before. It aired on Jimmy Kimmel Live last night.

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masterlist

eddie munson

one-shots

secrets for breakfast - you and eddie are in a secret relationship but now he wants you to meet his friends. (fluff) 

rings and promises - vampire!eddie. in march of ‘86, you lost the love of your life to the upside down. when you have to go back a year later, you find out he might not truly be lost. (angst, fluff)

sending signals - you keep sending signals to eddie to show how him how you really feel. but will he ever take the hint? (fluff, slight angst)

i think we’re alone now - you and eddie are experts at hiding your relationship but your friends would say otherwise. (fluff)

season of giving - exchanging gifts with eddie. (fluff)

cupid - you swear cupid hates you but maybe he’ll take mercy when you meet eddie. (fluff)

series

spilled beer

no use in crying over spilled beer - when a stranger spills beer on you, you’d never expected that eddie munson would be the one to save you. (fluff)

late night talking - late night calls with eddie can lead to lack of sleep and brand new feelings for the metalhead. (fluff) 

johnny storm

series

assistant!reader

help wanted! - it’s your first day at your new job and a certain cocky blonde helps you out. (fluff)

busy woman - you’re way too busy at your new job to even remember to eat sometimes. but you could spare a minute or two to pretend not to like it when johnny would flirt with you. (fluff)

[stitchattacks]

Rest in Power, Prince of Darkness.

Ozzy Osbourne.

1948 - 2025

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V FOR VENDETTA (2005)

[stitchattacks]

The Bear (Anders Lassen x F! Reader)

Request from @wunder-blunder: I'm (VERY) interested in Anders Lassen (The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare) x female reader, I really enjoyed your fic Living for Later (a part 2 for that would be awesome)! So, if you're still interested/reading, my idea is that the group (Anders, Gus, etc.) go to a bar after they get out of confinement at the end of the movie, and that's where Anders and the female reader meet. The female reader (very understandably) can't stop staring at Anders so he walks over to ask why she's staring. The female reader will say how she's just shocked that anyone would let a bear into a bar (Anders is the bear), flirty banter happens and eventually leads to much more explicit things.

Pairing: Anders Lassen x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, minors do not interact. 18 + ONLY. Oral M & F receiving, language, thigh riding, p in v, happy ending.

Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare Masterlist

"Taste that, Gentlemen," Gus holds up his pint, "the taste of freedom." They click their glasses together, beer sloshing over the side and landing on the bar top before they tip back the pints.

"Damn, I don't think anything could taste better," Freddy sighs, looking at his glass like a lover.

Anders smiles to himself, "I can think of something." His eyes scan across the room, his back casually leaning against the bar.

"Naughty boy, Lassen," Apple laughs, taking another sip and glancing around at the lack of women in the pub. "But it doesn't look like you're going to have much luck around here."

"Would you like another?" Anders turns slowly, his heartbeat quickening when he sees you there behind the bar, the other bartender giving you a smile and a pat on the back as he heads out. "Jesus," you whistle, "I didn't know we let bears in here."

"What?" Anders sits straighter looking around for the threat.

You giggle, "I meant you," you point at him, "you look like a fuckin' bear. What did you do to get a body like that? Bench press cars?"

His cheeks turn pink and he coughs, adjusting his glasses, "I-well I."

"Steamin' Jesus," Apple chuckles, "she's got you tongue-tied Lassen!"

You give the one called Lassen a playful wink before pouring him another pint and placing it before him. "This one's on the house, didn't mean to embarrass ya in front of your friends."

"It's no trouble," he turns and speaks at his friends between clenched teeth, "they seem to have lost their manners in prison."

"Prison?" you stand straighter looking between the patrons, "you lot just got out of prison?" They nod sheepishly, "what the hell for?"

"That's classified," the one with the dark black facial hair and curls speaks up. "But we were found innocent and released today."

"So you're not raging murderous psychopaths?" you ask, refilling their glasses and wiping down the bar from the previous spill.

"Only when it comes to Nazis," you look at the Bear and feel a smile pull at your lips.

"Well, that's just fine then."

The rest of the night passes quickly, you make conversation with the other patrons, fix drinks, and try not the spend the entire time drooling over the beast of a man seated at your ber. While all of those things go well, the latter is hard to accomplish. It probably isn't helpful that you can feel his eyes follow you around the room.

And when your eyes meet, it's fucking electric. He's so big, he barely fits on the chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up leave little to the imagination and it makes your seriously want to know if he's that big, everywhere.

"Last call, gents," you ring the bell, seeing a handful of regulars come up for a final pint or to settle their bill.

You move about the room, starting the closing tasks for the evening, tossing goodbyes over your shoulder until the chime of the door is silenced. But when you look up your breath catches at seeing one lone patron remaining.

"We're closed," your voice comes out breathy, and you clear your throat. He's silent, watching you like he has all night, and you feel your assessment of him as a bear was accurate. He's an animal alright, and he's hungry.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asks, crossing his arms across him onto the bar top, and resting his chin on his hands. "Say the word, and I will go."

The words slip out before you can process, "No," he smiles, "I don't want you to leave."

He nods, before straightening, "what do we need to do to go?"

"Oh," you quickly lift your hands, shaking your head, "no, you just sit there, I can finish by myself."

He stands and your eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. Fuck, he is a giant, towering over you. You didn't get to grasp how tall he was when he sat at the bar all evening and your panties drench just thinking of how big he is. The thought from earlier comes back with a vengeance and you gulp, your eyes traveling down his body.

"See something you like?" He holds out his arms and turns for you, smirking when he catches your eyes, "are you just going to look, darling?"

"No," you swallow, shaking your head, and moving to stand before him. Tentatively you reach a hand out towards his chest, gasping when he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his orbit. His chest is solid muscle beneath your palm, and you move across his chest towards his arm, tongue coming out to lick your lips.

He groans, and your eyes snap to his, but his arm on your lips, "can I kiss you?" he asks, his hand coming to rest on your chin, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip before you bend your head and take it into your mouth. Tongue swirling around his digit, sucking it between your lips before letting go with a pop.

"Knulla," he mumbles under his breath.

"Kiss me Bear," you command and he wastes not a moment. His arms wrapping around your waist and hoisting you into his arms before your ass lands on the bar top. He nestles his body between your thighs, spreading them far to make room for his large form.

"Tell me you want this," he's so close, and you feel a little drunk having him so close. "Tell me," you pulls you towards the edge of the counter, your soaking through your panties, skirt bunched around him, "that you want me to fuck you. That you'll let me take you home and do everything I've been dreaming to do to you all night."

The sound of your heart beating is so deafening you can guarantee he can hear it. "Yes," you whimper, begging him with your body to put you out of your misery and kiss you.

"Then," he takes a step back, lowering your skirts, "what do we need to do to leave?"

You huff, crossing your arms and withering on the bar top, desperate for any kind of friction. The Bear misses nothing though and quickly steps forward, pulling you off the counter and to your feet. "None of that," he chastises playfully, "the only thing getting you off tonight will be me."

"Hmph," you step out of his arms, crossing your own across your chest. "You won't even kiss me, how do I know it's even worth letting you take me home?"

"I see," he nods, "the little barn needs a taste."

You don't get a chance to ask about the meaning of the word before he has you pinned to the wall, his knee slotted between your skirts and his mouth hot on your own. It's like an inferno, his mouth moving with your own in a complicated waltz only you two knowing the steps. When he lifts his knee, and presses it to your cunt, you gasp, his tongue sliding into your mouth and tangling with your own.

You are lost to everything but him, and when he raises his boot to his toes and rolls his leg up and down you quickly grasp onto his shoulders, his forehead pressed to your own. You close your eyes and rock your hips, being held completely off the ground by his tree trunk of a thigh.

"That's it," he praises, holding onto your hips and helping you move back and forth on his thigh. "Your bear is hungry," he latches his lips onto your neck when your head drops back against the wall. "Hmm," he groans, sucking and leaving bites along your neck, "I want you to cum," he whispers in your ear, sucking your earlobe between his lips. "Then I'm gonna take you home and lick that pretty pussy clean until you make a mess all over my face, again."

The combination of the filth rolling off his tongue and the strong thigh beneath you, working together with his hands on your waist is all too much. You grab him around the neck with one arm and the other hand is on his arm and you pull yourself up and down with a small cry and a whimper of his name as you fall apart beneath his skilled fingers.

Your breath is loud in the silence of the pub and you both still as he slowly lowers you to the ground. The legs you stand on are wobbly and he quickly reaches out an arm to steady you. "Are you alright, my darling?" he asks softly, running a hand over your face, and smiling when you nod. "You were so beautiful," he marvels, "if that's how gorgeous you look cumming on my thigh. You will rival the gods when you cum on my cock."

"Lassen," you whimper his name and he closes his eyes and controls his breathing.

"Please, call me Anders," he begs, slowly opening his eyes and taking a step back, "what do we need to do to finish?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, turning to reach over the bar for your purse, "I'm opening the bar tomorrow at 11, I'll come in early and finish it."

"We should finish it now," he argues gently, holding up a hand to interrupt you, "trust me."

"Why?"

"Because I don't think you're going to make it in tomorrow." You eyes widen and you go to ask the question when he offers the answer, "you'll be lucky to walk tomorrow when I'm through with you."

The two of you make quick work of the closing tasks and after making a quick call to your boss about covering for the next day you both finally leave the pub. The London air is chilly and you pull your threadbare coat tighter around your body, locking the door behind you. A couple passes when you turn and you sigh looking at the womans fine coat and gloves, a girl could dream.

A heavy weight drops across your shoulders, the scent of tobacco and leather heady as you snuggle into the warmth. "Let's get you home," Anders, reaches an arm around you and you turn towards home. If it wasn't for the spend dripping down your thighs, you'd think it was just an evening stroll between a couple. You'd always wish you had a man to meet you after work and walk you home. Someone to make sure you made it home safe.

With Anders arms around you, you could almost pretend. You walked in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier simmering as your pace quickened when your apartment came into view. You took the steps two at a time, and before long you stood before the door.

You shrug off his coat and hand it to him before reaching into your purse for your keys. The room is dark and you move around the room, turning on lamps and hanging up your coat. The deadbolt is deafening and when you turn to look towards the door, your jaw drops.

The whole thing happens in slow motion, his eyes on you the whole time. He’s wearing suspenders and he lowers each side till their hanging at his waist. His hands are slow, methodical, as he unbuttons each button of his shirt. Your own hands mirroring his actions as you slip the buttons of your shirt in time with each of his. He tugs the shirt off and your mouth waters. His chest is a canvas of scars, and for a second he looks unsure as you step forward, hand reaching out to trace the long one across his abdomen. 

“How did that happen?” you ask, whispering. He tells you everything, your hand tracing each and every scar before going over them with your lips. 

When you’ve finished tracing your tongue across the last scar, a bullet he received two years ago protecting a child does he find his voice. “You’re not disgusted?” 

“My handsome Bear,” you cradle his face, “these scars are the canvas of your life. The life you’ve fought so hard to live. I could never be disgusted.” 

He lets out a shallow breath before nodding, “Thank you.” 

“No,” you hold a finger to his lips, “no thank you are necessary. It is I who should be thanking you.” You trace your hand down his abdomen and reach for his belt, holding his gaze when you begin to open his pants and lower the zipper, dropping to your knees and licking your lips as you work the pants down his legs. 

His cock is magnificent, and you are pleased to know he really is that large, everywhere. “Fuck,” you mumble, wondering for a moment how you’ll even manage to get him in your mouth let alone your pussy. He’s silent, watching you and he steps out of his pants, tossing them and his shoes into the corner and standing before you completely naked. 

You reach for his cock and give it a tentative stroke, your hand not even encompassing half his size, mouth salivating at the dribble of pre-cum pooling at the end. You stick out your tongue and lick the end of his cock, moaning softly at the salty taste. “Fan, gör det igen älskling,” he moans head dropping back and you feel encouraged by the broken way he just sounded.

Your jaw strains from the stretch but you manage to slide about half of him down your throat before you hit the back. Your panties drip onto the floor, when you pull him back out and in, lubricating the rest so your hands can slide in time with your mouth. You want to touch your pussy so bad, it’s throbbing but his moans of pleasure are enough to get you off. He leans down, putting one of his hands on your head and guiding you deeper, gagging on his cock. 

Anders looks down, his mouth dropped open on a moan, watching the saliva drip down your chin and splash like raindrops on your exposed breasts. He wants to lick them, open his mouth wide and suck each gorgeous globe between his lips, teasing your nipple with his tongue. But right now he’s lost to the way you look at him. Tears streaming down your chin as you attempt to take him deeper and deeper with each thrust of his hips, he’s so fucking close and he wants to cum inside your mouth, watch your mouth fill with the white creamy cum and see your throat bob as your swallow down his load. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he warns, holding your head still and listening to your gag as he cums down your throat with a loud groan of your name. It’s as beautiful as he thought when he pulls out and watches you gasp, hands on his thighs as you try to catch your breath, his cum all over your lips until you lick them clean with a grin. 

Anders reaches a hand out, pulling you up and quickly disposing of the rest of your clothes. He doesn’t bother with your bra straps, the fabric ripping and tossed in the corner before he’s tossing you over his shoulder and heading for the bedroom. You let out a loud squeal but he silences you when he fondles your ass, giving it a sharp slap. 

He tries three doors before he finds the bedroom, and tosses you onto the bed - tits bouncing with the force. “Spread your legs for me, darling,” he drops to his knees and crawls up the bed, nestling himself between your thighs. “Let me see that messy cunt.” He lifts one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder, spreading you wide, and running a thick finger between your folds. “Hmm,” he hums happily, spreading your wetness all over your folds. 

Anders leans forward and you reach down, grabbing his hair with one hand, the other quickly reaching behind you for the pillow when he licks at your clit. Almost like a kitten licking a bowl of milk, he hums, the vibrations traveling up your body and you wither, groaning when he lifts his other arm and rests it across your stomach keeping you still. 

That’s when everything changes. Gone is the kitten and the bear comes out to play. He devours you, his nose dragging through your slit and he tongue following, playing with your clit like the expert marksman you assume he is. 

“Anders,” you try to rock your hips and he lets up with his grip, letting you ride his face. 

He pulls up for air, watching mesmerized as your hips lift trying to follow his mouth. You halt when he spits on your pussy, the sound lewd and loud your leg rising as he lifts one of his arms and puts it between you. You arch off the bed on a gasp when he slides two of his thick fingers inside you. 

You grasp the arm at your waist in an iron grip, moving your hips up and down. He curls his fingers and you see stars. “Fuck!” He leans down, sucking your clit back into his mouth and moving his tongue back and forth. The slight stubble leaves a delicious burn that aches. “I’m gonna-“ you pant, struggling to get the words out before you feel the pressure build and explode soaking his fingers. He doesn’t lose momentum, riding your high out until you’re pushing his face away. 

He crawls up your body and rests his body gently on your own. He rests his head on your chest, like he did on his arms back at the bar, grinning. 

“You look quite pleased with yourself,” you run your fingers through his hair, his head tilting to rest more into your hand. 

“I am,” he smiles, “to have a beautiful woman fall apart on my tongue is a blissful thing.” 

“You must have had many women to have such skill.” The idea leaves a sour feeling in your stomach and your hand falls back to your chest but he quickly moves his head beneath your hand to encourage your touch. 

“I haven’t,” his words surprise you and you meet his eyes to see them already upon you. “Been with many women that is. Just two.” You’re unsure if you believe him, but he places a kiss between your breasts and moves up your body to gently kiss your lips. His cock grows hard against your belly with each swipe of his tongue against your own. “I want to see you cum again,” he whispers against your lips. 

“Then fuck me-“ the words die on your tongue when he lifts your legs and presses them into your stomach, his cock brushing through your folds. 

“As you wish,” he grins, pressing just the head inside you. You gasp, tossing your head back as he works himself deeper and deeper inside you with each thrust of his hips. 

“Oh god,” you moan, his thumb working your clit as he finally fits himself all the way inside you. 

His chuckle has your eyes snapping open to look at him with a tilt of your head and he gives you a wink, “Not god, darling, just me.” 

“You assho-” he rocks his hips, pulling back all the way before slamming back in again. You can’t breathe, each stroke of his enormous cock punching the oxygen from your lungs. 

You close your eyes, lost in the sensations he brings out, each snap of his hips fills you deeper and deeper, and you’re sure you can feel him poking out of your stomach. The room is otherwise silent besides your panting breath, incoherent mumblings of his name, and the lewd sounds of his cock pumping into your soaked pussy. 

“Look at me,” Anders, nudges his head against your own and you slowly open your eyes. “There you are,” he praises, kissing you deeply, “keep your eyes on me, I want to see you cum.” 

“An-Anders,” you hold onto both his arms and look between you, seeing him disappear inside you with each movement of his massive body. The pressure in your belly builds like a volcano bound to explode and he sees it, moving his hips quicker and chasing your release with his own. 

“Cum for me, darling,” he commands, his accent strong, “cum now.” You obey, arching your chest up into him and letting out a loud moan, squeezing around his cock so tight. “Shit,” he groans, flooding you with his release. It’s hot and thick and you can feel it drip down your thighs, leaving them sticky. 

He stays buried deep inside you, his massive arms on either side of your head keeping himself upright so he does not crush you. You want to feel his weight on you, feel him keep you there with his body, never let you go. But eventually, he does, but not before kisses are pressed over every inch of your face. He may be a bear in appearance; a fierce fighter that could tear your limb from limb with little thought. But inside hes nothing but a teddy bear, a lover, someone you could easily get attached too. 

“Wheres the bathroom?” he asks, sitting up, his eyes fixed on where he’s left a mess licking his lips. You point to the door in the corner and he reluctantly rises. God, he’s a fucking sight, all hard lines and muscles, and with each step away you want to shout for him to return. 

He returns quickly with a clothe, wiping you clean and collapsing back into bed. Tugging you into his arms, sleep quickly finds you, his arm rubbing up and down your back and humming a soft swedish lullaby. 

By the time you awaken the clock reads 1 pm and the bed is long cold. No note, no sign he was even there besides the two wet towels hanging in the bathroom. You hate how dissapointed you feel at his absence but the ache between your legs from the six additional orgasms since the night before remind you that even if you wished too you couldn’t have gone again. He had to leave eventually. 

The shower works out some of the kinks in your muscles but you still move slowly throughout the flat, trying to muster the strength to go into work that evening. While your boss had been accepting of missing the opening shift at the pub you couldn’t get out of closing tonight. 

The pub is loud when you arrive and you smile at the other bartender before jumping into the fray and starting to take orders. The night moves quickly luckily despite your melancholy mood, several of the regulars pick up on it; cracking jokes in the hopes of alleviating some of the sadness. 

From behind you notice another seat fill at the bar and go to turn, “What can I get-” the words evaporate on your tongue—a great bear of a man filling the bar stool before you. You look at one another, the pub continuing around you like it didn’t know your world was slowly tilting on its axis. 

“You,” he puts his arms on the bar top and smiles at you, “I would like to have you.” 

“You did,” you cross your arms over your chest, “you left without a word.” 

He lifts a bag from the floor and puts it on top of the counter, “I needed to go grab this.” 

He’s piqued your curiosity and knows it, grinning like a schoolboy as you uncross your arms and move closer, to pull the bag down and look inside. The contents are ordinary, clothes and an extra pair of shoes, a shaving kit, several knives, and guns. “I don’t understand,” you glance up at him and catch the quick hint of vulnerability. 

He clears his throat, “I went to grab my things. So I could come back home.” 

“Home?” you feel a tightness in your throat, “and where might that be?” 

“I already told you, darling. You. You, are my home.” 

“We hardly know one another,” the first tear slips down your cheek and he stands leaning over the bar to brush it away. “You could be a madman for all I know, a brute, a beast.” 

He holds a hand to his chest, mock offense clear on his face, “I am no such thing. I am a lover, not a fighter. You raise a brow at him, pulling out the large hunting knife from his bag and he grins sheepishly, “Okay, I am a bit of a fighter.” 

You stare at him, him watching with bated breath for you to decide if he’s worth this effort. But you know you already decided when you turned around and saw him there. “You’re paying half the rent,” he beams, nodding happily, “and doing the washing and dishes. I won’t be a little housewife doing all the work while you sit around and drink.” 

“I can cook,” he stands, coming around the bar, the other patrons watching him curiously, looking between the two of you. “I’m very handy around the house,” he wraps his arms around your waist, your hands falling naturally to his chest. “I make the bed, clean up after myself, and will be your own personal guard dog, darling, no one will ever hurt you. I promise.” 

He leans down to kiss you but you pull back, watching the little crease between his brows deepen in confusion. “I don’t want a guard dog,” you whisper to his conspiritorily, “I want a bear.” 

His laugh is loud and booming before he nods, “yes, my love, I’ll be your bear.” When he finally presses his lips to yours, the bar erupts in cheers, and for the first time in the long time, you’re exactly where you want to be.

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Master List of Master Lists

All the one shots and series we have created. Everything is put into categories so you can find everything easier! Nothing belongs to us except the stories themselves. Everything is a work of fiction. Our Stories have nothing to do with the celebrities themselves or their families.

Movies

TV Shows

Celebrities

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POV : you have been scrolling for the past hour and all you see is SMUT

Please...life is lot more than fucking🙏🏻

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ THE VISIT [caracalla x reader]

pairing(s): gladiatorii!caracalla x reader

⇢ ˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ୨୧ Caracalla introduces you to his beloved Dondus.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNINGS ୨୧ mentions of blood and violence (coz of gladiator games and stuff

This is so rushed, base on this ask. This has been actually sitting on my drafts for awhile, I never posted it coz I didn't get the time to edit the texts and the gif lol (I still haven't actually done any of that). Will probably edit this to make it look aesthetic pleasing

The roar of the crowd had died down in the Colosseum, but the blood and dust scent remained. Whatever it was, Caracalla had invited you to his private quarters, but you knew not to ask too many questions of him. He was famous for his tempers, even more so than for his conquests. Favour is a privilege; disfavor means a death wish.

Still, with all the dangers that accompanied his presence, there was something weirdly interesting about him. Perhaps the manner in which he carried himself—not only as an emperor. Perhaps, though, it was the way he regarded you, as if he were constantly debating whether or not to consider you an amusement or something more.

"You are fortunate," said Caracalla, leading you through a lavishly decorated lounge draped in deep reds and gold, "Dondus does not take to just any one."

"Dondus?" You suspected there would be a warrior or an advisor, but Caracalla merely smirked and turned toward a silk-draped perch in the corner of the room.

A stiff snap of his fingers brought forth a little creature from the dusk shadows. A dark-furred monkey, not much larger than a child's hand, scurried over the silk and jumped onto the outstretched arm of the emperor. The move was sharp accurate like a soldier receiving orders.

"This," Caracalla said, his voice infused with a curiosity almost rare in an emperor, "is Dondus."

You had heard whispers about the emperor's pet, but assuming they were just one more bit of weird rumor circulating in the capital, you paid them no heed. Caracalla, the ruthless ruler, with a tiny monkey clutched in his palm? The very thought seemed crazy—until now.

Dondus tilted his head, dark intelligent eyes fastened on you with the same sharp scrutiny as his master often gave you.

"He's adorable," you said, and it was for the first time that Caracalla looked genuinely pleased.

Making a curious noise, Dondus jumped up—carried over Caracalla's arm, leaped onto your shoulder, and curled up comfortably against your neck. His small fingers tugged at the fabric of your tunic, as though testing your worthiness.

You stiffened for a moment expecting Caracalla to remove this monkey or, worse even, on top of that take offense. Instead, though, he witnessed a rather strange expression taking over the emperor's face. For just a split-second, his smirk faltered and was replaced with a look of awe.

"I suppose he approves," he said, arms folding across his chest.

A slow smile twitched on your lips. "Should I be honored?"

He huffed a quiet laugh, almost rare and unexpected. "Perhaps. He is more selective than most of my council."

Dondus chirped with a pleased little noise and tangles his tail around your neck, lounging like he'd known you forever. The monkey actually having fun with you seemed to amuse Caracalla more than such passion deserved.

"You are enjoying this," you commented.

"It is a bit... interesting", he said, glancing at you with his eyes darkly unreadable.

You were unable to miss how he looked at you now, not as a ruler scrutinizing a subject, but a man watching the most uncommon of rare finds.

"Perhaps you should visit more often," he mused almost too casually.

Your breath just caught for a second; that sounded dangerously close to an invitation, one that promised more than just an audience with the emperor.

Dondus chirped again, obviously in agreement, and Caracalla smirked.

Yes, you realized—this is a test. Not only Dondus's approval, but something else entirely. And for the first time, you wondered if you had truly made an impression on the most dangerous man in Rome.

@gloomskulls 2024. DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE ANY OF MY WORKS HERE OR ANY OTHER WEBSITES. Photos don't belong to me

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ice cream sundae | steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: after what feels like the longest day in scoops ahoy history, steve harrington wants nothing more than to go home and cuddle with you.

warnings: none? i think? definitely not proofread, pretty short tbh sorry 😔

a/n: once again, for @keerysbrowneyes <3

masterlist ! | requests are open

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

twelve hours.

steve harrington had been working twelve hours at scoops ahoy today.

twelve hours of scooping countless flavors of ice cream. twelve hours of making milkshakes for young ones and older kids alike. twelve hours of listening to robin buckley talk non-stop about an upcoming summer band camp. and almost an hour of dealing with erica sinclair trying every single scoops ahoy flavor, he swore she's tried before.

after those twelve long, grueling, never ending hours, steve was finally on his way home.

the starcourt mall parking lot was fairly empty. his red bmw was one of the last cars, as most other shops were already closed and ready for the bright summer morning to follow.

steve sighed as he got in his car. he ran his probably ice cream stained hands through his hair. his hair that is now flat and matted. a combination of wearing that stupid sailor hat all day, and brushing it out of his face when he leaned over the ice cream fridge to serve customers.

ah, the customers, steve thinks. the customers that were practically yelling at both him and robin for not being quick enough to make their desired ice cream cones on this hot summer day. the customers that were just a bit too whine-y. the customers who seemed to be yelling so loudly in their respective booths while enjoying the cool treat.

steve sighed once more, before starting the engine of his car. he starts his drive, nodding along slightly to the queen song playing softly over his car radio speakers. he doesn't dare turn it up, not wanting it to be the reason his newfound headache grows.

steve is about to turn on his street. his street towards his empty, dark, lonely house. his house that's entirely too big to enjoy for one person.

steve keeps driving straight. straight down the road until he reaches your road. he turns left, drives past the handful of houses that show up through the green trees before your own.

steve walks up towards your front door, running his hand through his hair one more time, before knocking on your door.

unbeknownst to you, who's currently in your bed, catching up on the newest episode of the golden girls, you have no idea what's on the other side of your door.

you open the wooden feature, it's hinges creaking heavily due to it's old age, you're heart practically leaps at the sight of your boyfriend in front of you. steve's scoops ahoy uniform looking more worn in today. with many stains littering the blue material, and the shorts slightly ripped towards the bottom seam.

"steve, baby, what are you doing here?" you take no time in leaning forward, holding his warm, tired face in your hands.

steve sighs for the umpteenth time tonight, "i just really needed to see you."

your heart breaks yet again, "oh baby," you simply state, "bad day?"

steve only nods, to which you wordlessly let him inside your cozy home. you explain to him that your parents are visiting family out of town, when he asks why it seems so quiet tonight.

maybe steve hoped it would be quiet in your house. it's a different kind of quiet than his own house. a kind of quiet he enjoys. a quiet he needs.

you lead him into your bathroom. when you turn and see his face, covered in a confused expression, you quickly respond, "when i have a bad day, all i want is a warm shower," you push out a few hairs out of steve's face, "plus god knows how much ice cream you have on you right now," you both let out a chuckle, before steve just nods.

you lean up and kiss his cheek, before leaving the room, making sure to close the door quietly behind you.

while steve showers, you rush around your room, finding a small section in your dresser where some of steve's clothes are. inside is a couple of different clothing items; a few t-shirts, jeans, sweatpants, and even a scoops ahoy uniform.

you reach down for a comfortable outfit for steve, placing it inside the bathroom on the counter.

while the water continues running, y/n gets comfortable under her thick blanket, not before making sure her big light on her ceiling was off. a few lamps staggered around her room – her desk, and nightstand lamps – were on, knowing steve wouldn't want to deal with anymore bright lights after working in the florescent lights of scoops ahoy.

you hear the water turn off.

inside the bathroom, steve slightly smiles as he notices you got his clothes set out for him.

you grabbed a pair of boxers, grey sweatpants, and a faded blue t-shirt. steve decides on opting out of wearing the t-shirt, as his skins needs a break from the confinded material.

he walks back down the hallway and into your room, being met with you reading, all bundled up under your sheets. he can't think of anything else he'd want in this moment.

your head picks up as he throws his clothes into your hamper.

"hi baby," your voice is soft, "how was your shower?" you set your book down, and open the blanket for steve to squeeze in next to you.

steve nods, "it was really good, thank you."

however, instead of climbing under the sheets next to you, steve simply moves the blankets a bit. he moves them just enough so he's able to lay his head on your lap.

you smile warmly at the gesture, knowing this is all steve wanted after his day.

you know what he wants, as you begin running your fingers through his damp hair. you cannot care less if your hands and up wet from his shower. you just wantes to help.

you continued the motion, making sure to scratch at his scalp every so often. he subconsciously leans his head further into her lap, and moves his hands to hold onto your legs softly.

you two lay together for what feels like forever. you both swear you could die hear and be content with the fact.

after a few moments, steve turns, his back on the bed with him now looking up at you.

"hi beautiful," he says nonchalantly.

you can't help but giggle, "hi."

"i love you," he simply states, his eyes filling slowly with nothing but love.

he watches as a blush creeps over your face, going up from your neck to your cheeks.

you move your hand to rub your thumb over his cheek, "i love you too."

you then lean down and kiss the tip of his nose, causing his features to scrunch together.

"i don't know what i'd do without you," he admits into the softness of your room.

it takes you a second to respond, never being told that before. you shake your head and let out a light chuckle, "probably have so much ice cream in your hair you wouldn't be known as steve the hair harrington anymore," you joke.

he rolls his eyes, "please, i haven't been called that since high school."

"since high school," you mock, "you just graduated honey."

steve just dismisses your comment, and moves his head so your hand is pushing against his hair once again; silently asking you to play with his brown locks again.

you giggle, but comply nonetheless, beginning the motion you just completed moments ago.

a few minutes pass, and you feel steve's head get slightly heavier in your grasp, as the weight on your legs grows. you know he's beginning to fall asleep.

you watch as his face becomes more relaxed. the crinkles around his eyes subside, just as his lips fall into a small part. you let it slide – the fact that he's fallen asleep on you – as you simply pick up your book again.

why not get through a few more chapters while steve just relaxes.

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reblog to give your headache to elon musk instead

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STARDEW VALLEY (2016) 🍂 dev. ConcernedApe

[stitchattacks]

Eat it or Yeet It

Damien Haasx Reader

Eat or Yeet 

As you entered the sound stage to film your first Eat it or Yeet it you couldn't tell if you were more excited or nervous. While you weren't the pickiest eater in the world you did have trouble with some textures and you knew that would be tested today as you sat between Damien and Shayne at the table. Your leg bounced with nervous energy as Courtney handed out bibs for everyone, Damien asking politely but insistently that he get the purple one. You couldn't help but laugh at the joy on his face when Courtney handed it  to him before handing you your own bib.  Your leg continued to bounce nervously as Courtney started their introduction, Damien put his hand on your knee under the table and your leg calmed, you gave him a small smile that he returned. 

“Today on Eat it or Yeet it, it's Easter!” Courtney said and you all gave a little cheer. 

“That's right all your Easter favorites have been Eat or Yeet It - afied by our own Garret who is over in the Garret comfort station.” Courtney said. 

“We’ve got carrot juice and marshmallow peeps.” Garret said. 

“Yikes.” you couldn't help but say and a laugh went up around the table. 

“Alright let's get to eating or yeeting!” Courtney yelled. 

The first dish that came out looked like deviled eggs though they were brightly colored and sprinkled with something on top. You didn't even try to go for it as Shayne, Damien and Amanda all went for the bell. In the end it was Shayne who got it. As he ate you saw the disappointed look on Garret's face and laughed. 

“These are fine.” Shayne said, looking suspiciously at the egg. 

“I think they’re meant to be sour.” you told him. 

“ That is correct! Shayne you are a freak. Courtney said before reading from her card, “these are sour deviled dyed eggs, hard boiled eggs with whipped yolks, mayo and malic acid.” 

“At least you got some protein.” You said to Shayne who had a grossed out look on his face. 

As they reset the table you could feel Damien tap your knee encouragingly and when you looked at him he gave you a thumbs up. When Courtney revealed the next dish you went for it, your hand ringing the bell before the others could. It looked like a safe dish, carrots wrapped in what you assumed were bacon or faux bacon and sure carrots weren't your favorite but you weren't opposed to them. Plus with it being the second dish you could just hang back and watch the rest of the table eat and not worry about the big bite. 

“Alright here we go 3, 2, 1!” Courtney counted down and you took a big bite of one of the carrots. 

As you chewed you tried to dissect the flavor, something mapley perhaps, carrot definitely and was that liquid smoke or just bad smoked bacon, and then you tasted it the unmistakable tart of pineapple. 

“Does this have pineapple?” You asked stopping your chewing. 

“Uhh,” Courtney looked at their cards, “yes! These are Pineapple and Honey Maple glazed carrots wrapped in faux bacon.” 

“Bucket.” you said trying to remain calm as Damien grabbed the yeet bucket for you. 

“Get water.” you heard Damien say as your head was in the bucket trying desperately to spit everything out. 

You’d been allergic to pineapple your whole life but usually it didn't affect anything as you could easily avoid it, and you always listed it on your allergies just in case. Apparently today it had been overlooked. 

You gratefully took the water from Damien whose face no longer held any of the good natured mirth from earlier. You were about to tell him you were alright when you felt the itching start in your throat, you must have swallowed some of it and if your throat was already itching it could get worse soon and that was not something you wanted to happen. 

“I need my bag.” you managed to get out and saw Damien jumped out of his seat and take off for the bullpen. 

“Are you okay? How can we help? What's happening?” Courtney was kneeling next to you, their hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

“I’m allergic to pineapple.” you told them and their eyes went wide, their head wiping over to look at Garret who looked panicked. 

“Allergic?” Shayne asked just as Damien came rushing back in your bag in his hands. 

“What do you need?” Damien asked, putting your open bag on the table. 

“Inhaler and benadryl.” you told him before turning to Shayne. 

“It's on my paperwork, I thought … who puts pineapple on fake bacon.” you almost cried and Shayne's hand replaced Courtneys rubbing small soothing circles on your back. 

As Damien got your inhaler and found the benadryl in your bag you could see Courtney and Garret talking quickly with Spencer, Kiana and a few other people who were shooting you worried glances. You quickly puffed your inhaler and took the benadryl downing all the water you could before focusing on your breathing, making sure air could get into your lungs. As air filled your lungs you relaxed a little, perhaps there was some tightness but the fact that you could take deep breaths was good and meant the worst of it had been avoided. 

“You okay?” Damien said quietly from where he was kneeling next to you. 

“Yes, thank you for getting my bag. I think I got it before I ate too much.” you told him trying to give him a little smile to show you were okay. 

“I’m - I’m okay.” you said louder and everyone turned to you. 

“I’m so sorry y/n. I had no idea.” Garret came over to you and you gave him a nod and a small smile. 

“I know, it's a weird one.” you told him. 

“Alright I think we’re scrapping this, y/n go home and rest.” Ian said from behind Garret and you wondered when he had arrived. 

“Come on, we'll get your stuff from your desk and I’ll drive you home.” Damien said and you nodded getting up from the table. 

When you reached the sound stage doors though, Damien turned to you “Will you be alright getting to your desk? I want to talk to Ian.” 

“Yeah I’m fine, just going to be really tired in about fifteen minutes.” you tried to joke with him but Damien didn't seem to be in the mood. 

P.O.V Damien 

He watched as y/n walked out of the sound stage and then turned on his heel to confront Ian who was talking with Courtney, Garret, Spencer and a few others. 

“Is y/n going to be okay?” Ian asked as Damien approached. 

“So they say, that could have been really bad. This isn't a little allergy.” he said seriously. 

“But they’re going to be ok?” Ian asked again. 

“This is the second time an allergen has appeared on eat it or yeet it. First it was the walnuts which was fine because I didn't get it but now y/n and the pineapple. Who the hell is food safety?” Damiens voice was getting louder and when he felt a hand on his shoulder he turned to see it was Shayne. 

“Damiens got a point. We don't even know how serious y/n’s allergy is.” Shayne said his face  serious. 

“It’s bad. They definitely would have put it on their paperwork.” Damien said. 

“Okay, okay we’ll figure this out and we’ll make sure it never happens again.” Ian said, holding his hands up in defeat. 

“It better not.” Damien said before turning and walking away Shayne following him. 

“Is y/n really alright?” Shayne asked when they were away from everyone. 

“They say so but they took two benadryl so they’ll be tired. I’m going to drive them home and maybe just stay so they’re not alone.” Damien said, ripping the purple bib off his neck when he realized he was still wearing it. 

“Alright, if you or y/n need anything you know you can call and I’ll help however I can.” Shayne clapped him on the back and Damien nodded. 

As Damien walked over to your desk he tried to take some calming breaths. He was beyond angry at the situation but it wasn't your fault and he would hate to take it out on you when you were the one hurt. He couldn't believe this had happened, when it happened the first time with the walnuts in the churros it had been laughed off as lucky that he hadn't dinged the bell but now y/n was hurt by someone's oversight and Damiens instinct was to forge a warpath until he found someone to blame but that wouldn't help you right now so instead he walked to your desk trying to calm down. 

You were sitting at your desk, forehead on the cool surface as he approached, he took one final deep breath before kneeling down and putting his hand softly on your back. 

“Ready to go?” he asked quietly and you nodded before following him. 

As you walked out of the office and made it to the parking lot he grabbed your hand entwining your fingers. He saw out of the corner of his eye as  you looked down at your clasped hands then up at him before walking closer to him, hands still entwined. Once at his car he opened the passenger door for you before getting into the drivers side and punching your address into his gps. 

“Should we pick anything up on the way?” he asked as he drove. 

“No I …  I should be good. I’ll just sleep the benadryl off and take it easy tonight. Lots of water and something easy on the stomach later.” you told him. 

“Alright, well if you need anything, like  … like someone to stay with you … or anything.” he said, his eyes shifting from you to the road and back again. 

“You don't have to stay with me Damien, I’m sure you have better things to do. I’m just going to sleep.” you told him. 

“What if staying would make me feel better?” he said, not looking at you. 

“Oh Damien I didn't mean to worry you so much.” you told him, “I feel like such an idiot, getting the shoot cancelled and having everyone fuss and worry. It's just a small reaction. Really I’ll be okay.” 

“Allergies are serious.” Damien said, turning onto your street. 

“But - “ you started to say and Damien interrupted you. 

“You are not an idiot for stopping the shoot, whoever didn't read the allergy sheet is to blame not you. You provided the information, I know you did and of course we’re all going to worry and fuss. You could have died.” he said. 

“Died is a bit dramatic, I have an epipen.” you told him trying to lighten the mood. 

“People only have epipens for allergies that can kill them,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah but you were so quick with the water and benadryl and my inhaler that it staved off the worst of it. I'm going to be fine Damien, you’ve no need to worry about me.” you told him. 

“Worrying is one of the things I’m best at.” he gave you a little smile and you returned it with a small laugh. 

“Can I at least walk you to your apartment?” he asked as he parked in your apartment's lot. 

You nodded your head and when you both got out of his car Damien held out his hand for yours. You gave it to him automatically before leading him to your apartment door. As you unlocked it, your mind raced for a reason for him to stay just a little longer. 

“Do you want something to drink or eat?” you asked as the door opened. 

“How about we get you settled and then I can worry about myself.” he smiled at you and you swooned just a bit. 

You had a long standing crush on Damien and while the two of you were friends, good friends even, you had never really thought the two of you could be more but with  how worried he was about you and the care he was showing you were maybe selfishly at least going to pretend that there could possibly be more. In the morning it would fade away just like the side effects of your allergic reaction but right now you could pretend he felt the same. 

He followed you into your apartment taking a look around as you put your bag away and locked your front door. 

“Umm so that's the kitchen, I have a brita in the fridge that should be full and you’re free to eat whatever you want. I’m going to go wash my hands and face, and change into something comfortable.” you told him leaving him in the entryway of your small one bedroom. 

As you washed your face and hands you examined your face and throat for redness or swelling. You saw a few spots that definitely werent there that morning and there was certainly a puffiness about your appearance that you hoped was only noticeable to you. As you crossed the hallway to your bedroom you listened for Damien but didn't hear anything which you hoped meant he was relaxing on his phone. In your bedroom you pulled out a large tshirt that used to belong to one of your older brothers friends, which you only knew because it was their last name on the back of the shirt, that had somehow come into your possession sometime between high school and moving to LA. 

When you appeared back out in the living room it was to find Damien on his phone sitting on the corner of the couch. He immediately looked up when you entered and gave a little smirk at your outfit. 

“Your high school?” he asked, pointing to the team logo on the front of the shirt. 

“Yeah, go pirates.” you gave a little fist pump and he laughed. 

“Didn't have you down as a football player.” he said getting up from the couch. 

“Originally not my shirt,” you said, turning around and showing the last name on the back, “belonged to one of my older brothers friends but ended up in my laundry somehow and well … here we are.” 

“Not an ex then?” he asked, walking closer to you. 

“Oh god no, my brother's friends are like brothers. I've known them all since I was in elementary school, I think the very idea of me and anything romantic would gross them out.” you explained. 

“Good to know.” he said quietly and you couldn't tell if you were meant to hear that or not. 

“I should get to bed.” you said and Damien seemed to snap back to himself. 

“Right, are you sure you don't want me to stay?” he asked again. 

“Yes, yes please go about your day. I’ll probably sleep until late, have dinner and sleep some more. Really there is no reason for you to stay. I appreciate it though, you’ve been so kind.” you told him. 

“If you insist. Will you at least text me when you wake up so I know you’re alright?” he asked. 

“Of course.” you smiled at him. 

He hesitated for a minute, seemed to think better of something and made a move to walk toward the door when your hand shot out to touch his chest. He stared at you but you didnt let it distract you from your insane moment of courage as you leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, your hand lingering on his chest. His hand came up to clasp the one on his chest as you pulled back. 

“Thank you Damien.” you told him and he nodded. 

You slipped your hand out from beneath his, he cleared his throat and then made his way out the front door with one more look back at you. You crashed on your bed quickly after Damien left and when you woke up your apartment was dark, the digital clock on your nightstand read 10:02 p.m but you’d promised Damien a text and so you sent one. 

y/n: Hey! Sorry just woke up and I realize it's late but I promised to text 

Damien: how are you feeling? Need anything? 

y/n: I think I’m just gonna have some cereal and relax for a bit before sleeping again. I feel better though. Thanks again for everything today. 

Damien: Anytime, seriously 

y/n: Allergic reactions at work are not something I want to make a habit of 

Damien: Good to know. Think you’ll still be feeling better tomorrow? 

y/n: Absolutely 

Damien: Want to grab dinner? Just the two of us? Promise no pineapple. 

y/n: Absolutely, pick me up at 7? 

Damien: It's a date. 

You smiled at your phone and kicked your feet in excitement. Maybe having an allergic reaction at work wasn't the worst thing to happen.

[stitchattacks]

change in perspective.

you never thought jamie tartt could be anything but a prick.

a/n: i have no explanation for this other than i just finished ted lasso (fashionably late as always) and this man makes me giggle like a little school girl :) (this is also not spellchecked! i'll do it later ;))

pairing: jamie tart x f!assistant coach!reader

“Does someone want to explain to me just what exactly Jamie Tartt is doing out on the field?”

All three coaches turn to you at the sound of your voice, but it’s Ted’s eyes that light up the second he registers your presence. A smile curls onto his lips as he turns to face you, posture nonchalant with his hands shoved into his pockets. “Ah! Well, if it isn’t my favourite assistant coach, Y/N! I was worried something had happened.”

Blinking back at Ted, you simply cross your arms over your chest. “What is Jamie doing out on the field?”

Ted lets out a laugh but it comes across more as a grimace as he rubs the back of his neck, turning his head to glance at Nate and then Beard. 

It’s Beard who explains. 

“Ted invited him back to the team.”

The water bottle you’d been holding in your hands promptly falls to the ground with a thud as your lips part, mouth left wide open, staring blank faced at Ted who continues to laugh somewhat uncomfortably.

“What?”

Beard raises his hands as if to gesture that he is an innocent party in your accusation all whilst you shift your shocked expression to a glare at Ted.

“Well, you know… I–I just thought that, well… he’s a good player, yeah?”

Shaking your head, you huff; “regrettably so.” Because even you weren’t bitter enough to not admit that Jamie was a great football player. Fantastic really. But–But he was an absolute prick who you’d thought you’d never have to work with ever again.

“And this team needs a little something to spice us up, yeah?” Ted, in Ted style, does a little dance (that’s meant to make you laugh) to add to the effect of his words.

“No,” you say blankly, before Ted raises a brow at you. Sighing, your shoulders fall. “Yeah.”

Offering you a smile, Ted rests his hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Give him a chance, okay?” He asks, his eyes pleading as he nods down at you. “I think he really means to make up for it all.”

You seriously doubt that. But, you don’t voice that opinion.

“Fine,” you surrender, dropping your hands to your side. “But I’m allowed to laugh at him when this team kicks his arse. Which they will because he deserved it.”

Ted snorts at that, “don’t worry, Nate’s already got you beat on that front.”

Your eyes shift to said man, and he’s sending you a wide grin and a thumbs up in a way that makes you chuckle despite how truly unhappy you were with Jamie only a few feet away from you, on your team.

-

The only thing that had made practice somewhat bearable was seeing Jamie repeatedly knocked on his ass.

And then mocked by the rest of the team.

Truly, it brought a smile to your face.

You’re still laughing to yourself about it as you finish packing up your stuff in the office you shared with Nate. Him, Ted, Beard and pretty much most of the team were already gone or on their way out the door, but you usually elected to stay a little longer than everyone else trying to come up with new gaming strategies, plays and honestly, team bonding exercises since you found it incredibly important that the team genuinely care for one another if they were going to play on a team together.

You’re just sliding your laptop into your bag when a knock pulls you from your musings.

“Oh, Sam, just give me–”

Except, it isn’t Sam when you finally glance up. It’s Jamie.

You’re leaping to your feet before you can stop yourself, a surge of panic running through your body as your wide eyes meet his. He’s blinking back at you, as if as shocked by your reaction as you were, and before you know it you’re glancing around, half expecting Ted or Beard to be there because why else would Jamie be here?

But neither of them are there, of course, they’d left twenty minutes ago.

“Coach Lasso and Beard have already left,” you explain before he can say anything. “You’re gonna have to wait until tomorrow to talk to–”

Shaking his head, Jamie takes a step towards you. “I wasn’ lookin’ for them. I, uh… was lookin’ for you actually.”

You blink. Once, twice, before your brows furrow. “What?”

He steps towards you again, fully stepping into your office as he scratches at his face absentmindedly, looking just as uncomfortable as you felt. He glances around for a moment before his gaze focuses back on you, and the serious expression on his face is one you’re not used to or know how to react to so you continue to stare blankly at him.

“I wanted to, em, apologize, I guess? Actually, no, not I guess. I am sorry. And I want to apologize for how I treated ya in the past. You know, for all the shitty things I said and did.”

You must be dreaming.

Surely, you’re dreaming.

There’s no way that the Jamie Tartt, famed football star and resident asshole, is apologizing to you. Some random female assistant coach on a team he’d once laughed at for existing? Yeah. Not possible.

But… it’s either that or he’s taking the piss out of you.

Whatever it is, the shock fades in seconds and is quickly replaced by an indescribable amount of anger. 

Because, honestly? Screw him. Screw him for thinking he could walk in here, say sorry and it’d all be okay. After all that he did.

“You’re sorry?” You ask, pointing at him.

He nods, slowly. 

“That’s funny,” is what you end up saying, letting out a snort as he blinks at you in surprise. “You sure didn’t seem sorry all those times you laughed at me when I tried to coach you. What was it you used to say?” You quirk a brow at him as his face falls, the hopeful glint that you’d accept his apology fading from his eyes as you laugh at him. “Oh, that’s right! That I wasn’t meant to be a coach because I’m a woman and rather, I should just look pretty and help make you look good. And if it wasn’t you belittling me for my job, it was you trying to get in my pants and then laughing about it as if that’s some sort of joke.”

You finish your rant with a huff, shoulders rising and falling heavily as Jamie continues to stare back at you.

You hadn’t really realized how much his comments had truly hurt until that moment. Or, rather, you’d pushed them down so far to the back of your mind that it had been bubbling up until this very moment where he tries to apologize offhandedly like that was going to somehow make things better.

“I may have only known you for a little bit before you left us for Manchester, Jamie,” you add, voice considerably calmer as you frown at him. “But you sure left an impression. And one little apology is not gonna make up for the amount of times I went home crying and feeling worthless, because of you.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything. His lips part like he means to you, but he ends up just gaping at you like a goldfish, looking rather stupid, before there’s a light knock on the door and you’re pulled from your thoughts only to find Sam poking his head into the office. He looks concerned, eyeing Jamie out of the corner of his eye with a certain edge, before turning to you.

Biting your lip, you blink, hating the way your vision blurs and quickly you wipe at your face before any tears can fall.

You refused to cry in front of Jamie.

“Just a second, Sam,” you call, offering him a small, somewhat forced smile. You turn to your desk, grabbing your bag and doing a quick survey to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything before promptly pushing your way past Jamie and slipping past Sam. He sets a hand on your back to guide you forward, blocking you from Jamie’s view and you don’t see it, but just before Sam turns to walk away himself, he’s sending Jamie a rather nasty glare.

The message is clear; leave her alone.

-

The next morning there’s a vase of flowers sitting on your desk.

Nate is eyeing them when you walk in, before he blinks at the sight of you and quickly turns away as if afraid you caught him staring. You just blink at him, before looking at the flowers once more.

Poking your head out to the main office, you gesture over your shoulder; “where’d the flowers come from?”

Beard raises his hands in a silent gesture that they’re not from him, before your gaze falls to Ted.

“Don’t look at me,” he shrugs. “You’d know if I got you flowers,” he winks with a light chuckle and rolling your eyes as you make your way to your desk. There’s a card in front of the vase and as you take a seat, you take the card, flipping it open.

All that’s written on it is the name of the flowers; Lily of the Valley.

Frowning, you let your eyes wander across the white flowers, leaning forward to smell them and letting your eyes fall shut at the sweet scent. 

Only thing is, who sent them?

Leaning back on your chair, you peek into the locker room, trying to see who of the players is there. There’s not too many. There’s Sam, but you walked in with him so you know it’s not him, also he most likely would’ve just given them to you if he was going to get you a bouquet of flowers. Isaac’s there, but you doubt he’d give them to you. Richard and Dani are there, but they're much too forward to try and secretly give you flowers.

And then your eyes fall on Jamie. He’s already looking at you, but he’s quick to glance away the second your eyes fall on him, his cheeks turning a bit red.

Your brows furrow.

It couldn’t–

“Apparently, Lily of the Valley symbolizes apology. Specifically when one doesn’t know how to apologize.” Nate explains, reading off of his phone, the card from your desk in his other hand, before he glances at you with a curious smile. “I wonder who wanted to apologize to you?”

You glance at Nate, before the flowers, before peeking back at Jamie who’s tying the laces of his boots, pointedly not glancing up.

Moving back towards your desk, you stare at the flowers a moment longer.

What the actual hell.

-

“Oh, just–”

Before you can properly register the voice, a blur of blue is suddenly in front of you, opening the door you’d been about to open yourself before your hand can even reach for the handle.

Slowly your eyes flicker upwards to fall on Jamie as he stands beside you, holding the door wide open, a rather proud smile plastered onto his face.

“There ya go,” he offers, head tilting towards the door. “Ladies first.”

Quirking a brow, you nod at Jamie slowly, stepping through the door while you try to fight the smile that threatens to curl onto your lips.

“Smooth, Tartt,” you offer over your shoulder.

He grins back at you, nodding at you.

You can’t help the laugh, however, when instead of stepping through the door like you expected (assuming he’d only done it cause he needed something from here in the first place), he lets the door shut with a goofy wave, leaving you alone in the room.

Pausing, you shake your head.

That was new.

-

“And you, Coach?”

It takes you half a second to realize Jamie is talking to you and you only really realize it because Ted, Beard and Nate are all looking at you, waiting.

Blinking, you swallow thickly, eyes falling back on the team only to see they’re all staring at you as well, also waiting. Your eyes fall on Jamie and he’s smiling at you, happy and all teeth as he rocks on his feet, patiently waiting for you to say anything you might or might not have to say.

It’s not like the rest of the team hadn’t ever asked you for your opinion or if you had any pointers. And of course Ted made sure to consistently ask for your suggestions, wanting to make sure you felt your voice was heard and included.

As the only female coach for a male’s football team, you’d managed to find yourself an incredible group of boys who listened to you despite your gender and actively made sure to try out anything you suggested.

But never had you ever had all their attention like you do in that moment. All of them just standing there, solely focused on you.

And that was because of Jamie.

Biting your lip, you shuffle on your feet. “Oh, well… I–”

But your voice is shaky and you’re not sure how to say what you want, but as your eyes flicker back over to Jamie he’s still grinning at you, smile never wavering and he’s sending you a thumbs up.

As if to say; you got this.

And then the words just seem to pour from your lips after that.

-

The addition of Roy Kent to the line up of coaches is both positive and negative.

And really, it isn’t negative for anyone but yourself. Not that having Roy on the team was negative, just, well… It was already hard enough being the only women assistant coach with two other men, but now you were competing with three men and Roy was nothing if not an intimidating and commandeering addition to the team.

His desk had been squished in between yours and Nate’s and while the man was lovely, if not a little aggressive, by the end of his first day you found yourself drained and feeling like a fool. Roy wasn’t just another man, but he was a previous football star himself; he had the on field experience to back up his suggestions and he knew what he was talking about so that when he did say something, no one really batted an eye to his suggestions.

Or, at least, questioned them.

Worst part was you liked Roy. Sure he swore a lot, and sometimes he’d grunt instead of replying to you but before he’d had to leave the team, he’d always listened to your suggestions with an open mind and never made you or the suggestions feel less just because it was a woman saying them. He was an absolute sweetheart underneath all of the gruff, and you knew him outside of work quite well as well because he was dating Keeley.

So, with the jealousy that you couldn’t help but have, you also felt extremely guilty. 

“Are… Are you alrigh’?”

Gasping, you sit up at the voice, panicked eyes glancing around until you settle on Jamie.

“Jesus, Tartt,” you breathe, pressing a hand to your chest as you shake your head. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” he offers with a light laugh. “I didn’ mean to.”

“It’s fine,” you sigh, letting yourself relax once more as you slump against the wall behind you, pulling your knees closer to yourself. “I just thought I was alone. Didn’t think anyone would come wandering in here.”

Jamie steps into the room at that, letting the door shut behind him as he nods. “Saw you come in ‘ere,” he explains, taking a seat across from you. “Wanted to make sure you were alrigh’”

Shaking your head, you brush him off; “I'm fine.”

“You, um… you sure?”

Turning to Jamie, he’s staring back at you in a way that tells you he doesn’t believe you. He’s got a concerned look in his eyes and he’s fidgeting with his fingers, his knee rocking nervously as he tries to find the words to say.

Sighing, you shake your head; “it’s stupid.”

“Not when it comes to ya.”

Blinking, you turn to Jamie, lips parted in surprise. Except, he doesn’t seem shocked by what he said or embarrassed. He continues to stare back at you with that concerned look in his gaze, patiently waiting for you to explain what’s going on.

“It’s just… It’s hard,” you start, struggling to find the words. How do you explain to him, not only a man but the same man that used to belittle you for the exact same thing you’re feeling self conscious about, that you feel like you’re being tested in your own job everyday just because you’re a woman? You weren’t sure he’d understand. And honestly, although you’ve seen the changes in him and regrettably started to believe them, you weren’t positive he wouldn’t just laugh at you for it anyways.

And yet, you continue to speak.

“Being what I am at my job,” you add, eyeing him carefully.

Jamie frowns. “Being a woman?”

Inhaling sharply, you nod; “yeah. I know Ted and the rest of the guys would never belittle me or make me feel less because I am, but… It’s just hard being the only woman coach for a team of men. Even if you guys don’t mean to, and I know you don’t, you all naturally gravitate towards Ted and the guys more than you do me.”

Lips parting, Jamie stares back at you.

Avoiding his gaze, you glance down at your lap. “Makes me doubt myself sometimes.”

“Oh.”

Nodding, you pull at a thread on your pants. “Yeah. Oh.”

Silence follows and you feel ten times more uncomfortable as the seconds pass. You can still feel Jamie’s gaze on you, watching, waiting, maybe trying to find something to say, and it’s making you feel more and more embarrassed as time goes. 

Shaking your head, you suddenly move to a stand.

“Anyways, it’s late so you should–”

“I think yer an amazing coach.”

Lips left parted, you turn, only to find Jamie suddenly standing in front of you.

“You make great strategy plays, you are undeniably smart about the terminology and nobody cares about the wellbeing of the team more than you,” he continues, his gaze never once faltering. “You cheer us on and never ever make us feel like we’re doing something wrong or stupid for askin’ for help. I know it feels like we listen to the guys more, but every single one of us leans on your advice heavily and we’d be lost without yer support and guidance.”

Eyes widening, you don’t realize it until you blink that you’re crying.

Your hand falls to your cheek, feeling wetness.

“Shit,” Jamie curses and your eyes fall back on him. “I didn’t mean to make ya cry, I just–”

Your arms wound around him before he can finish, pulling him flush against you as you press your head into the crook of his neck. Jamie freezes at the touch, body tensing but just for a second before he eases, his own arms coming around to wrap around you in return.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him, “I… Thank you so much.”

“O-Of course,” he murmurs, voice low and you can feel his chest rumble against your cheek. “I just… thought ya should know.”

Biting your lip, you pull back at that, quickly wiping the tears off your cheeks as you step away from him. Jamie lets you go with ease, both of your cheeks red, yours burning when you realize you’d not only just flung yourself at him but you’d gotten his shirt wet with your tears.

“I.. I’m sorry,” you whisper, gesturing to his chest. “I didn’t mean to cry on you.”

Jamie shrugs; “no worries, love.”

Meeting his eyes, the two of you stare at each other for a moment, before you’re quickly stepping past him. “Anyways, I should… I should go.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Me… Me too.”

Reaching for the door, you glance back at him; “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Nodding, Jamie grins down at you; “see you tomorrow.”

-

“We’ve got a problem.”

Both Keeley and Rebecca turn to you at your words, whatever they’d been saying promptly getting cut off the second they see the panic on your face.

Rushing you inside, they settle on either side of you on Rebecca’s couch in her office, Keeley’s arm wrapped around your waist and Rebecca offering you a cup of tea as they turn to you with concerned eyes.

“Okay, lay it out,” Rebecca says, “what’s wrong and who do I have to fire?”

Letting out a light laugh, you shake your head. “You don’t have to fire anyone.”

“Good,” she nods, “because I didn’t want to fire anyone.”

Rolling your eyes teasingly, you take a sip of your tea before reaching forward to set it on the table.

“Okay, then, babes,” Keeley speaks up, frowning at you, “then what’s the matter? You came in here looking like something horrible’s happened.”

Letting out a groan, you press your hands to your face; “that’s because something horrible has happened.”

“What?” Keeley presses, squeezing your arm.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitate a moment, eyeing the both of them, before you whisper in shame; “I think I fancy Jamie.”

There’s a beat of silence, before;

“Like Tartt?” Keeley asks, eyes widening in absolute surprise. “Jamie Tartt? Our Jamie Tartt?”

“Like on my team Richmond, Jamie Tartt?” Rebecca adds, pointing at herself before gesturing to her office.

Cheeks burning, you hide your face in your hands again. “Yes.”

Keeley and Rebecca eye each other for a moment, before Rebecca’s pulling your hands away from your face.

“Y/N.”

You just shake your head, trying to grab a pillow to further hide yourself.

“Babes, stop,” Keeley laughs lightly. “Explain to us why you fancy Jamie.”

“Yeah,” Rebecca encourages. “It’s alright.”

Hands falling to your lap with a huff, you frown. “It’s all his fault,” you whine. “Because he’s trying to be better now and I can’t handle that. Before, you know, when he was a prick, that’s just it! He was a prick. And I’m sorry Keeley for saying this but I always found him a little attractive.”

Snorting, Keeley shakes his head; “babes, why do you think I dated him?”

Biting your lip, you sigh. “But he was awful, right?” She nods and Rebecca snorts, clearly feeling that’s an understatement. “And when he came back, I was so mad. Mad because he was so mean and laughed at me and belittled me for being a woman, and not to mention he was terrible to the whole team. Like when he used to bully Nate or hog the ball and never give Sam a chance to show his skill.”

They both nod to your words.

“So I was upset. Upset because he was back and because Ted didn’t tell me or ask me how I felt. And I said to myself that this whole apology thing was just an act and he’d go right back to being his old self in a few days. I was proud of myself too because when he tried to apologize, I didn’t let him.” Keeley squeezes your arm at that and Rebecca smiles proudly. “But then the next day I came in and he bought my flowers!”

Their eyes widen.

“He did?”

“Yeah,” you nod at Keeley. “A big bouquet of Lily of the Valley and you know what Lily of the Valley symbolizes?”

Keeley shakes her head and Rebecca sighs, shoulders falling. “Apology,” she explains for you. “You give them to someone you hurt and don’t know how to apologize to.”

Keeley’s lips part in disbelief; “I never got fucking Lily of the Valley’s.”

Sinking into the couch, you cry out; “exactly! And then he starts opening doors for me and helping me pack things up… he’s listening to me in practice when he never used to, deliberately asking for my opinion after practice after the rest of the coaches have said their pieces. He tells the rest of the team to shut up if he feels they’re not listening to me and he asks me for pointers alone so he can get better. And! God! I was upset and he made this whole big speech about how amazing a coach I am and how the team appreciates me and shit and then I hugged him and cried on him and he didn’t laugh at me or make me feel like shit. He… he was actually really fucking sweet.”

The second you’re done ranting, Keeley and Rebecca glance at each other, before coming to the same conclusion.

“Well,” Keeley says hesitantly. “It definitely sounds like you fancy him.”

Pulling at your hair, you let out a cry. 

“No, no,” Rebecca shakes her hand, pulling your hands away from your face and holding them safely in her own. “It’s fine, love. Jamie has really turned himself around.”

“He has,” Keeley is quick to agree. “I mean, he never did any of that stuff for me and we were already in a relationship.”

“But it isn’t fine,” you argue, shaking your head. “Because he’s Jamie Tartt, and he’s fucking fit and now he’s nice too… and he’s a star football player and I’m just Y/N Y/L/N, some random assistant female coach on a team of male football players. No one knows me and I’m not special and I’m not a model or a celebrity or any of the usual types he goes for.”

“That is absolutely not true,” Rebecca says instantly, face appalled as if she can’t believe you’ve just said what you have.

“You are Y/N fucking Y/L/N.” Keeley adds, moving to grip your cheeks tightly between her hands. “The first and only female assistant coach of Richmond who has come up with more strategy plays that have helped us win than anyone else. Not to mention, you are proper fit. You are an absolutely fucking gorgeous and successful woman that Jamie would be incredibly lucky to have.”

Lips parting, you blink. Keeley and Rebecca are both looking at you in a way that leaves no room for arguments and feeling your eyes water, you pout; “you mean that?”

“Of course I fucking mean that.”

“Y/N,” Rebecca calls, squeezing your hands tightly. “I am so proud of you and the woman that you are and incredibly lucky to have you as a coach for my team. I know that, Keeley knows that, the team knows that and it looks like Jamie is aware of that more than anyone else. I know it’s hard to leave yourself vulnerable like this, but at least give him a shot.”

Biting your lip, you meet her eyes, finding the reassurance in them you needed before you glance over at Keeley who is grinning widely, nodding.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Okay.”

-

You’d believed what Rebecca and Keeley said.

Of course you did because you know they’d never lie to you.

And you’d promised them you’d give Jamie a chance before simply believing there’s no way he’d like you. But promising and doing was a lot different, and it’s hard to find the chance to say anything to him over the next few days.

The whole team is anxious because of the game against Manchester City coming up, especially since the last time they’d played them, it was the match that had gotten them regulated. Adding even more to that, Jamie had been on the Manchester team when that had happened and even though you know he’d made great strides towards making up with the team since coming back to Richmond, he was just anxious as the rest of them.

For a multitude of reasons you didn’t understand.

So, there wasn’t a chance to say anything.

And there certainly wasn’t one now that they’d lost. You’d briefly wondered to yourself that if they won, maybe you could run to Jamie and just confess your feelings then, thick in the adrenaline of it all. Like they did in the movies. All sweet and romantic.

Only, Richmond hadn’t won and you certainly weren’t going to now.

Especially when you were just as disappointed as the rest of them.

You’re speaking with Ted and Roy in the locker room when Jamie’s father comes in, and any conversation you’d been having falls silent the second he does.

You watch in stunned silence as Jamie’s father makes an embarrassment of himself, laughing and joking as he makes fun of the team's loss before zeroing in on Jamie himself. He says the cruelest things, and everything clicks in that moment why Jamie was the way that he was before he’d left Richmond.

And when Jamie punches his father straight across the face, you jump and your hands fall to your lips but you’re not shocked and you don’t think Jamie is wrong either.

No one says anything and no one does anything as Beard drag’s Jamie’s father out of the locker room and Jamie stands there, still standing in a defensive position. You want to do something, you want to say something, but you don’t think it’s your place. And you don’t know if Jamie would even feel all that much comfort with having you do anything.

Roy steps past you in the next second, taking Jamie into his arms and he loses it then, his sobs echoing throughout the otherwise silent room.

Ted runs past you at one point, but you don’t notice, eyes stuck on that of Jamie and Roy.

Then, Roy’s pulling away, but Jamie’s still got tears in his eyes, pressing his hand to his eyes as he tries to hide away. Suddenly, Roy’s eyes are on you, and he’s smiling in a knowing way, before promptly kicking everyone else out of the room. Your eyes widen as he does, body tensing in panic as Roy nods at you just before shutting the door behind him, leaving just you and Jamie in the room alone.

You can hear him sniffling to himself, a small sob breaking past his lips as you stand there, feeling out of place and like you’re stepping past his boundaries. So, slowly, you step towards him. “I can, uh, leave too if you’d like some–”

“No,” is all Jamie says before he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you tightly as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. You freeze at the action at first, unsure what to do or say, before slowly your body eases, and your arms are raising, hands falling to his back as you squeeze him tightly.

He clutches onto you, sobbing into your neck, and you let him wordlessly, rubbing his back in smooth, slow patterns in a way you hope is comforting.

And the two of you stay like that for a while.

-

Your relationship from then on changes.

More than it already had.

You find yourself willingly hanging out with him when you would’ve avoided it otherwise before. Jamie always seems to be there, lending a helping hand or letting you talk his ear off about something or another.

The two of you never really spoke about what had happened in that locker room but you didn’t need to. It went without saying. You understood Jamie in a way that you hadn’t before, and although it didn’t excuse it, it made sense why he’d been the way had been before and it showed him trying to be better meant a lot more than it had before.

So, the season ends, and you watch the changes Jamie’s doing with a smile and a completely different attitude. When he gives Dani the shot, or when he joins in on team chants before matches. He’s still arrogant and cocky, but it’s in a more loveable way than it had been before, and now when he comes in every morning wearing his stupid ICON hat and dumb sunglasses, you can barely hide the smile that curls onto your lips.

Or the way that despite him wearing such stupid things, you think he looks ridiculously hot.

The season ends and then the new one starts up with one less coach after Nate had left only to join West Ham. It had certainly been a betrayal and you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t hurt. You’d always felt like Nate had understood you in a way maybe some of the others didn’t and the two of you had shared that office alone for so long that you couldn’t help the way you’d cried when you’d realized what he’d done.

Jamie holds you through it. 

A soft, gentle and comforting presence that never makes you feel silly for feeling so hurt and betrayed and for that, you’re eternally grateful.

Suddenly, Jamie is someone you can’t live without. You look forward to every morning you see him walk into the locker room, and you find yourself texting him at night, unable to stop the giddy feeling that floods you every time you hear your phone ding and see it’s him calling or texting you.

Keeley and Rebecca tease you all whilst constantly trying to get you to confess. You always say that you will, but you never do.

You’re mad for him, that you know but you don’t know if he’s mad for you and you don’t want to ruin the relationship the two of you have built just because of your stupid feelings. It was nice having him as a friend, and although every time you saw him you just wanted to kiss him, you didn’t want to lose that friendship either.

So you never say anything.

-

“So, I would suggest just–”

“Y/N–?”

Lips left parted at the sound of Sam, you turn to him as he pokes his head into the office. He freezes when he sees Jamie standing behind you, the two of you going over one of his plays, your hand left held with the whiteboard marker and he winces. “I’m so sorry. I did not mean to interrupt you two.”

Jamie is waving his hand in reassurance as you smile at Sam, letting your hand fall; “it’s fine, Sam. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to drive you home tonight,” he explains, chancing a quick glance at Jamie before focusing back on you. “I have to run by the restaurant before heading home and I’m not sure how long it will take.”

“Oh,” you blink, shaking your head. “It’s fine, Sam. I can walk home tonight. It’s no problem.” Then, cheekily, you can’t help but add; “as long as when you finally do let me see your restaurant, everything is on the house.”

Laughing, Sam shakes his head; “it already was. And for you,” he points at you with a grin, “it’ll always be.”

Smilingly, you nod, waving him goodbye as he does the same, slipping out of the office. You laugh quietly to yourself as he does, before turning to find Jamie’s eyes on you, and you blink; “sorry,” you offer bashfully. “Where were we–”

“I didn’t know Sam drove you home?”

Pausing, you shift back to face Jamie. “Oh, yeah. He saw that I was walking home one night, offered me a drive and it’s been like that since.”

Jamie nods, slowly. “You two are close.”

“Um, yeah?” You agree with a shrug. “Sam is easy to talk to, I guess. Super friendly and kind.”

“Hm,” Jamie hums lightly. “He does look like he’d make a good boyfriend.”

It takes you half a second to register what Jamie’s said both because you feel that’s a weird observation for Jamie to make and also because when in that conversation did you say he was your boyfriend?

“We’re not dating,” you explain, shaking your head as you laugh. “We’re just friends.”

Jamie’s eyes widen, cheeks warming in faint embarrassment but… is that a hint of relief you see? Probably not, you’re just psyching yourself out.

“Oh.”

Nodding, you bite your lip; “yeah.”

“Cool,” Jamie hums and you raise a brow at him, before turning back to the whiteboard.

“Did you wanna…?”

Jamie is quick to agree, shifting on his feet to put his focus back on what you were saying before Sam had stepped in. But then, just as your lips part to continue, Jamie is interrupting you;

“I could drive you home.”

He says it so nonchalantly you think you imagine him saying it at first.

You glance at him over your shoulder, and he turns to you.

“If you’d like.”

“Um,” and you hate the way your voice shakes or the nerves that rattle your entire being. “Sure… Sure, that’d… that’d be great. If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he assures with a grin. “Why would I mind having a pretty girl in me car?”

Cheeks burning you quickly glance back ahead of yourself to not let him see how much that simple comment made your heart flutter and your insides feel like jelly. Inhaling sharply, it’s hard to fight the smile from curling onto your lips as you move to continue saying what you’d been trying to say before.

You’re so focused that you don’t see Jamie watching you, a grin curling onto his own lips when he sees how flustered you are.

-

“Pretty coach.”

Halting in your step, you glance up, only to have to crane your head upwards when you find Zava, the star player Rebecca had managed to score, staring down at you. He’s tall, very tall, and you’re not exactly sure why he’s here, in the middle of the hall, or why he’s talking to you.

“Zava,” you greet nervously, offering a small smile.

He’s stepping towards you, effectively closing the distance between you as your eyes widen, freezing when he reaches forward to take your hand in his own. Before you know it, he’s pressing his lips against the top of your hand, a gentle, swift kiss as he glances at you through his lashes, smirking.

“I look forward to working under you as my coach,” he explains, accent thick as he pulls his lips away. It doesn’t escape your notice that he doesn’t let go of your hand, though.

“Oh, um, me–me too. But you’ll mainly be working under Coach Lasso since he’s the head–...”

Your words trail when you realize he’s not really listening. He’s just… staring. Directly at you.

Swallowing thickly, with your free hand, you touch your face; “is there something on my–”

“Oh no, no,” he laughs gently, squeezing your hand. “You just have the most beautiful eyes.”

Feeling yourself warm, you meet his eyes in surprise before glancing down at your feet, “oh, um, thank–”

“Oi.”

The new voice is sharp and your head is spinning over your shoulder only to see Jamie promptly making his way over to you. You’re surprised by how angry he looks, but his attention isn’t focused on you and rather Zava as he quickly makes his way over, pulling your hand out of Zava’s and gently pushing you behind him as he blocks you from sight from Zava. You flush when you realize Jamie’s still holding onto your hand, before slowly peeking over his shoulder.

“Tartt,” Zava grins, “it’s wonderful to see you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jamie huffs. “Just keep your hands to yourself, okay?”

Raising his hands in surrender, Zava laughs, stepping back as he moves to walk away. His eyes catch yours and he winks at you before turning to walk off.

“Prick.” Jamie hisses under his breath.

You pause at that, turning to him only to see his eyes set in a glare, watching Zava disappear down the hall before you let out a giggle. Jamie’s eyes fall on you the second you do, gaze softening when he sees you giggling.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you smile, biting your lip as you glance up at him. “Just funny. You're calling him a prick.”

Jamie’s eyes widen in mock hurt; “he is!”

“Sure,” you shrug. “And so were you.”

“But not anymore,” he teases, rolling his eyes at you.

“True,” you agree, shocking him by how easily you do. You just continue to smile at him, “definitely not anymore.”

Jamie stares down at you, eyes never leaving your face. “He’s right about one thing, though.”

Quirking a brow, you tilt your head; “yeah? And what’s that?”

“You do have the most beautiful eyes.”

That was the last thing you expected.

Lips parting, you’re burning red as you promptly slap Jamie in the arm.

“Ow!” He hisses, pulling away as his hand (regrettably) leaves yours. “What was that for?”

You just stare back at him, pouting, embarrassed, hoping he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating.

Or notice that the way he said it meant way more than it did coming from Zava.

“Prick.”

Jamie just blinks, pouting; “what did I do?”

-

You let out a laugh as Jamie comes running up on the bus cheering about seeing Windmills, shaking your head with a grin as the rest of the guys cheer him on.

He walks down the aisle, high fiving a few of the guys until his eyes settle on you. Leaning your head against the seat, you grin cheekily up at him. “Did you have a fun night?” You ask with a head tilt, biting the inside of your cheek.

Smiling down at you, Jaime nods; “yeah, you?”

“Perfect,” you assure. “Spent a quiet night in my room.”

“The boys didn’t keep ya company?” He frowns, and he looks like he’s about to say something before you quickly reach forward, grabbing his wrist.

“That was team bonding stuff, silly,” you roll your eyes. “Besides, I had the most relaxing bath. It was fine.”

He glances down at you, not saying anything, but you feel your chest tighten when you see the way his eyes glance across your entire figure at the word bath.

Ignoring the butterflies, you smile; “saved you a seat, see?” You gesture to the empty window seat next to you, and Jamie laughs.

“You want the window seat?”

“Yup,” you grin, shuffling over to the other side as Jamie takes your old spot. You settle down next to him, arm brushing against his as he grins over at you.

“You got lots of training done last night?”

Jamie nods, “yup. Taugh’ Roy how to ride a bike.”

Brows furrowing, you briefly wonder how that happened in the midst of training but you let it go all the same, shrugging as you laugh. “But you made sure to get some rest, yes?” You add, turning to him with a quirked brow. “Because you remember what I said about training? If you push yourself too hard, you’re not going–”

“–to help anyone,” he finishes for you with a chuckle. “Yes, I remember.”

“Good,” you nod, squeezing his arm. 

“And you?”

Blinking, you turn to him.

“Did you get some rest last night?”

You nod, touched by his concern. “Yeah,” you assure, “like I said, spent the night in my room, resting.”

“Good,” he repeats your words from earlier and you turn your head away to the window when you feel yourself smiling.

Yet, despite that, an hour later, you’ve passed out on Jamie’s very own shoulder, softly snoring away.

Jamie is careful not to move, not wanting to wake you up, but when Dani turns to take a photo excitedly, he doesn’t stop him.

“Hey,” he whispers to Dani, “send that to me, okay?”

-

“You need to talk to Jamie.”

Raising a brow, you glance up at Roy.

“...I do?”

“He’s a mess,” is all Roy says.

“Okay…?”

“And you need to talk to him.”

Biting your lip, you hum; “because?”

Huffing, Roy rolls his eyes like you’re the one being annoying. “Because you’re the only one he’ll listen to, so you need to talk to him and get him out of whatever funk he’s in.”

“Okay,” you nod, “I’ll talk to him.”

-

You don’t get the chance to talk to him until you’ve arrived at the hotel the night before the game and even then it’s not really you talking to him.

The movie you’d all watched together is over and Ted had set a curfew but Jamie is taking your hand in his, throwing his hood up and leading you out of the hotel without another word. You glance over your shoulder to see Roy glancing at you in confusion, but you just shrug your shoulders and then Keeley is sending you two thumbs up with a bright grin and before you know it, you both are out the hotel and making your way across the street.

You let him lead, expecting him to say something, but he never really does. He’s eerily silent the entire walk, and it isn't until twenty minutes have passed that you finally tug on his grip and pull him to a stop. He glances back at you in surprise but you’re just shaking your head up at him, confused.

“If this is your way of getting me alone to murder me, I’m going to be really upset.”

He blinks at your words, confused at first, before he shakes his head. “No, no… of course not. I… I want you to meet someone.”

“Oh,” you mumble, feeling yourself ease as you meet his gaze. He’s staring back at you, obviously waiting for you to agree and with a gentle smile, you nod.

“Okay.”

It’s his mom.

He wanted you to meet his mom. 

You’re confused, extremely so, as Jamie leads you up the steps to a house, knocks and some older gentleman opens the door. He recognizes Jamie and invites the both of you in, and you’re left standing in the entrance way, baffled as you hug your coat closer to yourself, until a woman comes running down the stairs, screaming Jamie’s name and then suddenly she’s in his arms and he’s spinning her and calling her ‘mommy’ and it all clicks.

You can't help the smile that curls onto your lips at the sight, feeling like you’re being allowed to see a side of Jamie others rarely were.

And when Jamie introduces you to his mom, the smile turns into shock when she says; “you’re the one Jamie’s told me so much about!” And before you even have time to register those words or see Jamie glancing at you, she’s wrapping you up in her arms and hugging you so tightly as she gushes about how much she’s wanted to meet you.

You spend the night being welcomed by his mother and her boyfriend, before you leave Jamie to have his much needed conversation with his mom. Simon shows you around the house, before leaving you to glance around Jamie’s childhood bedroom yourself. You all but squeal at his Roy Kent poster, before rolling your eyes at Keeley’s, but happily glance round the rest of the room. You look at all his trophies and childhood photos, little drawings he’d done or books he’d read.

Before you know it, Jamie’s poking his head into the room and calling for you.

“Oh, Jamie,” you smile, “are you all done catching up with your mom?”

He nods, “yeah, you wanna get out of here? Go back to the hotel?”

“Sure,” you agree with ease, stepping toward him. He sets his hand against your back, leading you back towards the door where you say your final goodbyes. You thank Simon for the tour and give Georgie a huge hug, expressing how happy you were to meet her before she makes you promise you’ll come by and visit again.

You’re not quite sure how to reply to that, but it’s okay because Jamie does it for you, promising the two of you will stop by for an actual dinner soon.

And then, it’s just the two of you, making your way back to the hotel.

“So,” you call out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “You told your mum about me?”

Jamie rolls his eyes at that, huffing. “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

That certainly isn’t the response you were expecting, so, with warm cheeks, you glance at your feet.

“Got it all sorted now?”

Jamie hums, “yup. Sorry if I worried ya.”

You shake your head. “Think you had Roy in more of a panic, if I’m being honest. Poor man couldn’t breathe, he was so worried.”

Jamie snorts at that, lightly nudging you with his arm. “So, ya weren’ worried at all?”

Turning your head, your smile fades as you meet his gaze. “No, I was. I just didn’t want to overstep.”

“You could never overstep,” Jamie assures, “I should’ve been open about how I was feelin’. Just needed to sort it out for meself.”

Smiling softly to yourself, you hug your hands behind your back. “Well, I’m glad you figured it all out, Jamie. Really. Now you can kick some serious ass tomorrow, yeah?” You’re smiling as you say it, nudging him back with your own arm as the two of you continue to walk.

Then, suddenly, Jamie stops.

Frowning, you glance back at him; “are you–?”

“Me mum helped me with somethin’ else.”

“Oh,” you mumble, not sure where he was going with this. “What’s that?”

“Said I should stop being such a pussy and tell you how I really feel.”

Lips parting, you freeze. “Oh.”

Jamie nods, slow, and you can tell he’s nervous by the way he’s shuffling on his feet. “So… here goes.”

Your eyes widen when he steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you until he’s right in front of you, inches away. Your eyes follow him, head tilted back as you stare up at him, unsure what to do or say. But you don’t need to, because Jamie is speaking up in the next second.

“I’m in love with ya,” he confesses, letting the words just slip past his lips. “I’ve been in love with ya since you hugged me after me dad in Wembley. Maybe before that, I dunno. All I know is that when I came back to Richmond, all I was focused on was makin’ everyone like me again and then you yelled at me that day in yer office and I realized it was more than that. It wasn’t just about makin’ people like me, but makin’ up for the cruel things I'd done. I’m so sorry for the way I treated ya before, but I want you to know that I think the absolute world of ya. You are kind and sweet and smart and proper fit and… I dunno, you might not feel the same but I don’t wanna go on another day not having you know how crazy I am for ya.”

His words settle, carry on in the silence, as you stare back up at him, lips left parted, disbelief coursing through your veins.

Jamie’s confidence wavers as the silence carries and he’s shuffling on his feet in worry as he swallows thickly. “You don’t have to say anythin’,” he assures, rambling now with nerves. “I just wanted ya to know, so–”

But you cut him off by pressing your lips firmly against his own.

Jamie stumbles back from the pure force of the kiss at first, before he catches his balance and the shock fades and his hands are falling on your waist as he squeezes, returning the kiss with just as much passion. Maybe more. He kisses you like he’s been waiting to do this for weeks, and you realize, he maybe has. He holds you like you're the only thing in that moment that matters and you let yourself sink into his touch, turning to putty in his hands as you thread your fingers through his hair.

Then, slowly, you pull away, breathless as he smiles down at you.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “since the day you left me those flowers.”

Jamie’s eyes widen and his lips part but you don’t have the care to be embarrassed by your confession; it just felt good to finally, finally be able to say the words out loud.

“And I am so excited to see you kick ass tomorrow.” You breathe out, pressing your hands to his cheeks as you smile up at him, eyes dazed and sparkling with delight. 

Pressing his forehead against yours, Jamie presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“And I can’t wait to see you kick ass tomorrow.”