#oh man he hated having to say soccer while he lived in the states

[romanroamin]

Thinking about the swedish boy who used to live across the hall from me my freshman year of college. That boy was a D2 soccer player, astro physics major with a DEEP love of ABBA and was freaking Olympic level skilled in ping pong but only when he was blackout drunk. We used to go to parties and on the way home he would HOLLAR until whoever was driving, which was normally his redneck roommate in his white 2007 Chevy Monte Carlo that had a lightning bolt decal on the hood, would play Waterloo by ABBA first in English then directly followed by the Swedish version all while singing along passionately. This was a 6'1" sun tanned 200lb athlete just serenading his 5'9" pale ass redneck ginger roommate to the pop disco love song about the "inevitably of falling in love and ultimately heartbreak" in fluent swedish and heavily accented English. Best part was that he never got hangovers so you would wake up to him in the common room solving the three body problem or attempting to finish his online physics 511 quiz on magnetism while blaring euro trash edm at like 9am on a Sunday.

[4stars-uswnt]

You Take My Heart Away [Kelley O’Hara x Reader]

requested by anon: Kelley O’Hara x reader where reader gets into a fist fight but she’s like I won’t throw the first punch bc I’ll finish it and like she gets teased by the team but Kelley is mad at reader for it bc R could’ve gotten hurt but it was still cool

requested by anon: Can we get another Kelley O’Hara x reader doesn’t have to be anything specific just maybe along the lines of them both being crazy and maybe oblivious

A/N: i decided to combine these two prompts! hope y’all enjoy it. also bonus points to anybody who gets the title reference (there’s a lil connection to a reference within the story)

warnings: homophobic and sexist language, violence, and swearing

Conversation was flowing and music was playing in the background of the bar, as the USWNT finished up their first round of drinks and appetizers. The team had pushed together a couple of tables, where you all were now sitting, laughing at each other’s jokes.

The air was light, victory and celebration filling the atmosphere. Megan and Ashlyn had been the ones to suggest a night out after your win against Japan, not only to celebrate the 2-0 victory but also to celebrate Lindsey’s birthday that was in the next couple of days.

You were currently sitting next to your best friend, Kelley O’Hara, bridging the gap between the veterans and the youngsters.

“Anybody want another drink?” Alex asks, pushing her chair back, as she moves to get up.

A chorus of yeses ring out, the team’s orders ringing out.

“I’ll help you with that, Al.” You stand up from your seat, giving the other woman a warm smile.

Once the two of you had left for the bar, the rest of the team began interrogating Kelley, who let her eyes follow you as you moved through the crowd.

“Kel,” Ash calls out over the noise of the music. “When are you gonna admit to (Y/N) that you’re hopelessly in love with her?”

“What?” Kelley sputters, flustered.

Megan rolls her eyes at the defender. “It’s so obvious that you’ve had a crush on her for the past like six years, and a blind person can see that she likes you too.”

“I- I’m not in love with (Y/N).” Kelley’s face flushes, as she rubs the back of her neck nervously. “She’s my best friend.”

“Kelley,” Christen softly chimes in,, hoping to talk some sense in her friend she’s known since college. “You guys obviously have feelings for each other that go beyond friendship, and you’ve been dancing around them for years. We just want you two to be happy.”

Many of the women nod and voice their agreement.

“But what if it ruins our friendship and I lose her forever?” The freckled defender bites her lip nervously.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Christen gives her a knowing look. “Even if she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, she’s not gonna cut you out of her life.”

“And Kel,” Tobin adds on. “You never know until you ask her. And who knows? The risk of putting your heart out there may be worth it. But you’re just gonna live in the dark haunted by the unknown and what ifs unless you tell her how you feel.”

“I hate that you’re philosophical insights are usually right,” Kelley huffs.

Meanwhile, as the team holds their intervention for your best friend, you and Alex were at the bar ordering another round of drinks.

As you were waiting for the bartender, you and Alex were engaged in your own conversation, when you hear a boisterous voice interrupt you.

“Hey! It’s Alex Morgan!” A large man approaches the two of you, holding a half-full cup of beer in his hand, and you have a feeling he’s downed a couple pints already.

You sense Alex tense up next to you, as she gives the stranger a tight smile. “Hello.”

“Oh, and who’s this?” He turns to you, a leering grin on his face, making your insides turn. You reach for Alex’s hand in search of comfort but also as a protective gesture.

“Is she your girlfriend?” The man looks back at the star forward. “I hear your entire team is full of d*kes, but I didn’t think you were one. You’re way too hot to be a d*ke.”

Alex’s grip on your hand tightens, as anger radiates off of her. “I’m actually happily married.” She raises her left hand to show off her ring.

“Woah.” The stranger lets out a low whistle, his eyes slowly widening before he squinting to get a better look, as his movements impaired by the alcohol. “That is quite the rock. How’d you afford that with your pay? I’ve heard all about your team’s fight for equal pay and all that. I personally think it’s a load of crap. You guys aren’t even that good at soccer, and it’s so boring. The only thing that makes your games interesting is your smoking hot bodies.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust at this man’s blatant misogyny. “I’m surprised you know about our equal pay fight. I’d think it’d be too complicated for your thick skull,” you quip, throwing the insult right in his face.

“Ooooo feisty, are we?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “And where do you get off calling me dumb?”

“I’m just calling them as I see them,” you simply state, letting go of Alex’s hand, as you move to stand in front of her protectively. “Where do you get off disrespecting women and being a bigot?”

“(Y/N/N), it’s not worth it,” Alex whispers in your ear.

“I’d listen to your friend,” the man sneers and stands up straighter, slightly sobering up. “Because I’m not afraid to hit a girl, especially a mouthy one like you. Women like you deserve to be put in your place.”

“Go on then,” you challenge, probably a stupid decision on your part, but the adrenaline is rushing and you are at your wits end with this man in front of you. “I dare you.”

You thank all the gods in the universe that the stupid stranger was actually stupid enough to try and throw a punch with his blood-alcohol level because you can see his punch coming from a mile away.

Before his fist can make contact with your face, you grab his hand and twist his arm, leaning in closely to his face. “Is that all you got? My mom hits better than you.” You smirk.

“Let go of me, you bitch,” he growls, snatching his arm out of your grasp.

“Wait, I have one more thing,” you call out.

“What the hell are you talk-”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, rather your fist cuts him off. The man in front of you had been testing your patience and had used up all your grace, which, in your opinion, warranted a punch in the face.

You can’t help but wince at the sharp pain shooting through your hand upon the contact, but the cracking sound of his nose eases some of your discomfort.

By now, the rest of the team had become worried by your prolonged absence and then had noticed the commotion this stranger was stirring. Hearing the raised voices coming from your direction, many of the veterans, including Kelley, Christen, Tobin, Ash, Ali, and Megan, made their way over to where Alex was currently holding you back from unleashing your anger on this drunk man.

“What is going on here?” Becky asks, surveying the situation in front of her.

“This asshole was insulting Al and then had the audacity to continue being a sexist pig,” you spit out, directing your words at the man, who was still holding his bloody nose, while Alex was doing her best to keep you under wraps.

“I think it’s time for you to go,” Ashlyn states firmly.

As the goalie, along with Becky, Megan, and Ali, coax the stranger into leaving you alone, and hopefully leaving the club, Alex, Christen, Tobin, and Kelley try and calm you down.

“(Y/N/N),” Christen soothes, cupping your face. “I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath.” The curly-haired forward inhales and exhales, motioning for you to mimic her actions.

You take a deep breath, and upon exhaling, you feel the tension, along with the adrenaline, leave your body.

“Shit,” you sigh. “My hand.”

You lift your right hand, revealing your split knuckles on which bruises were starting to form.

“Come on, Sylvester.” Tobin claps your shoulder, letting out an amused chuckle. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, and on the way, you can tell us all about your heroics.”

You amusedly roll your eyes and lean into the other woman’s side.

As the team gathers their things, ready to call it a night after the turn of events, Megan approaches you, holding out a bag of ice.

“Here, (Y/N), the bartender gave me this for your hand.”

“Thanks, P.” You place the cool ice on your knuckles, hissing at the temperature shock.

On the way back to the hotel, many of your teammates were interrogating you about what had happened back at the bar. After telling the entire story, you received many hoots and hollers from the rest of the team.

“Damn (Y/N)!” Ash whistles. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

“Way to protect our honor,” Rose gushes, as many of the women nod along.

“Thank you, (Y/N), for defending me,” Alex says sincerely.

“Of course, Al. Anytime.” You give the forward a warm smile.

“Who knew (Y/N) could be such a badass?!” Emily exclaims with an impressed look on her face. “Kel, did you know that your best friend was a secret badass?”

While the rest of the girls had been teasing you about your heroic actions, your best friend had been oddly quiet.

“News to me.” Kelley answers shortly, her face hard and distant. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wondering if the defender was mad at you. You thought she would’ve been proud of you for standing up for the team and putting a sexist douchebag in his place.

Before going back to entertaining your teammates’s jokes and questions, you make a mental note to talk to her once you get back to the hotel, silently thanking Vlatko for rooming the two of you together this camp.

You would never in a million years admit it, but you were harboring a huge crush for your best friend, had been for the past six years, ever since you’d joined the national team. Not only did you not want to ruin your friendship and end up losing Kelley, but you knew she would never return your feelings.

Over the past several years that you’d been friends with the defender, you’d seen Kelley go in and out of relationships, and comparing yourself to her other girlfriend’s, you had a feeling you weren’t her type.

You also had reservations due to the fact that Kelley was your teammate, and you didn’t want to change the team dynamic, especially if the two of you didn’t work out.

Thoughts of Kelley clouded your mind all the way back to the hotel, only further exacerbated by her deafening silence.

Upon arriving to the hotel lobby, before you all disperse to your rooms, Alex gives you another hug and thanks you again, and Becky, ever the mother of the group, gives you a warning.

“Make sure to ice on and off. 20 minutes. You know the drill, (Y/L/N). Kelley, make sure she takes care of that hand.”

“Don’t worry about me, Becks. I got it,” you reassure the veteran defender, giving her a mock salute.

Following Kelley, you cautiously enter the hotel room. You nervously watch the other women move around the room, as she silently goes about her usual nighttime routine. Taking the hint that she wasn’t going to talk to you anytime soon, you go about your own routine and get ready for bed.

After about twenty minutes later, after both of you had showered, you were finishing wrapping your hand and were about to get into bed, when you noticed Kelley discretely staring at your bandaged hand.

Unable to tolerate the silence anymore, you break the tension. “Okay, what is up with you?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Kel,” you sigh, plopping down on the side of her bed. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder ever since what happened at the bar. Are you mad at me?”

“Nope. Not mad,” Kelley hums slightly passive aggressively, still not looking up from her book.

You roll your eyes, frustrated by your best friend’s childish behavior. “Kelley, I know when you’re lying, and I know that you’re mad at me right now, so would you please just look at me?!”

Sensing the exasperation and frustration in your voice, Kelley closes and sets down her book. “Fine, you’re right. I am mad at you.”

You thought you’d feel relieved, hearing her confirm your suspicions, but instead, the pressure in your chest increases.

“Why? What did I do?” You practically beg, scooting up the bed, so you’re closer to the other woman.

“As if you don’t know,” she scoffs.

Confused, you tilt your head. “I clearly don’t. Kel, please talk to me, tell me what I did.”

“You literally punched a dude in the face!”

“Yeah, but he deserved it, Kel! You heard the things he was saying,” you defend. “I couldn’t just let him get away with talking about our team like that. I thought you’d be proud of me for standing up to a sexist asshole like him.”

“I am proud, sort of. I mean that was completely badass and totally warranted, not that I necessarily expected that from you, and I’m glad you put him in his place,” Kelley babbles. “But that’s not the point, (Y/N/N). You were reckless tonight. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Your face softens at her outburst. Taking a deep breath, Kelley confesses, “I love you, (Y/N). I’m in love with you, and I just can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt, especially by some drunk idiot who doesn’t know shit about football or respecting women.”

Your eyes widen and your heart practically stop, when you process the words that have come out of your best friend’s mouth.

“(Y/N), please say something,” Kelley begs.

“You’re in love with me?” You test the words on your mouth.

“Yeah,” she sighs contently, giving you a soft smile. “Have been for the past eight years.”

“Gosh, we really are idiots.” You let out a wet chuckle, shaking your head.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, too, Kel,” you rasped, your voice laced with pure emotion. “I’ve loved you since my first camp.”

“Wow,” Kelley scoffs, an amused grin playing on her face. “Are we really that oblivious?”

“Apparently so.” You shrug. “But we’re here now.”

“Yeah, we are.” The freckled woman softens. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod eagerly, leaning in to meat the other woman’s lips. The kiss is nothing like you’d dreamed of; it’s better. It’s soft and tender, full of love and passion. You melt into each other, as your lips move together in harmony.

Not wanting things to get too heated, especially not before you’ve talked about what this meant for the future of your relationship, you pull away, resting your forehead against hers.

“Hi,” you whisper, smiling like a fool.

“Hey,” Kelley murmurs softly, returning your smile.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She takes your hand, kissing your wrapped knuckles. “But please don’t be getting into any more bar fights.”

“Hey! I would never start a fight, however I have no problem finishing them.” You smirk, boasting slightly triumphantly.

Kelley rolls her eyes playfully, but then looks into your eyes. “I mean it, (Y/N). I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. So no more fights alright?”

“I promise, Kel.” You give her a chaste kiss.

“Good.”

That night, you stay in Kelley’s bed, cuddling into her side. As you slowly drift into a peaceful sleep, you notice the woman next to you is already fast asleep.

You sigh contently, and you can’t help but feel extremely lucky that even after all these years, and everything that’s happened, life still led you to this woman and a love worth fighting for.

[bqstqnbruin]

Always be my plus one - part 2

Ok I know that I should use a different gif for each part but I'm not going to. But here's part 2! It's longer than the first part so have fun.

People to thank who are amazing and I owe my whole life to even though I'm probably forgetting someone because I'm the worst: @zinka8 (I CAN FINALLY TAG YOU) @hockeywocs @calgarycanuck @chara-hugs @justjosty anyone who sent in an anon and again I'm forgetting someone so if you helped me with this and I forgot, yell at me.

But here we go! This is about 9k words, and, fun fact, this is also my 5,000th post on this blog, so that's exciting!

Hope you like it!

Read part 1 here!

Series masterlist --------------------------------

New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day

New Year’s Eve is the last day of the Georgian calendar year, marked with celebrations that last well into the next day. Huge parties take place around the world, one of the most notable being the ball dropping in Times Square in New York City, marking the new year for the eastern coast of the United States, televised with Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve hosted by Ryan Seacrest. This special each year includes a packed Times Square, performances, interviews, and general excitement to put whatever happened in the past year behind them. Likewise, in Canada, the CBC has hosted a similar countdown special since 2017, including live music and coverage of festivities in each of the provinces and timezones the country spans.

New Year’s Day is the first day of the Georgian calendar year, again marked with celebrations. In the United States, various parades take place, including the Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena, California, or the Mummers Parade in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. In addition, various sporting events take place as well, including the Citrus Bowl in Orlando, Florida, the Outback Bowl in Tampa Bay, Florida, the Rose Bowl Game in Pasadena, California, and the Sugar Bowl in New Orleans, Louisiana, all post-season college football games, and the National Hockey League's outdoor game, the Winter Classic, typical showcasing a major regional rivalry. The day typically includes people already failing at keeping up with their New Year’s resolutions, whatever it was they promised to do every day of the year (such as working out, flossing, getting more sleep) already not going well.

=============

December 27, 2021

Lucy had insisted Anne go with her to the mall to go shopping when she found out that she was going to a New Year’s Eve party with Tyson’s teammates. Once her older sister found out that Anne’s ‘mystery man’ was a professional hockey player, she went practically bat shit trying to figure out more information about the two of them since Anne had yet to tell her anything.

If only she knew there was nothing to tell.

“Come on, what about this?” Lucy asks, holding up a dress. Anne wasn't sure that it would go past her butt, not to mention the open back and the plunging neckline. Lucy had to know that Anne would never, on any occasion, wear a dress like that. It would look good on Lucy, and Lucy would be comfortable in it, but not Anne.

“No,” Anne tells her, continuing to look through the rack for anything that had more fabric to it than what Lucy was offering her. There was nothing wrong with the dresses, really, and Lucy was normally pretty good about picking things out that Anne would actually like, but something about this being a dress for what sort of was, sort of wasn’t a date with a guy she spilled her coffee all over was making her more nervous than she needed to me.

“But it’s for your man. On New Year’s Eve. It doesn’t hurt to look a little sexy,” Lucy begs, making sure to add a little shoulder shimmy at the word ‘sexy’ for emphasis.

‘He’s not my man,’ Anne wanted to say. But she wasn’t about to spill that secret before Lucy even met him. It would be easier to just tell them they broke up by Valentine’s Day. “Tyson wouldn’t want me to wear anything that would make me uncomfortable,” she lets out instead.

Lucy sighs, pulling out dress after dress to show to Anne. “Ok, how about this: what color do you want to wear and how long do you want it to be?” Anne shrugs, not having thought about it in the slightest. “Well what’s Tyson wearing? Are you matching with him?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Annie!” Lucy practically screams the nickname her family decided they were going to call her, a few of the other store patrons turning to glare at Lucy’s outburst. “How do you not know what your boyfriend is wearing to a Colorado Avalanche New Year’s Eve party?”

'Not my boyfriend' she thought. “I don’t dress him. Do you know what Jason is going to wear for every party?”

Rolling her eyes, she holds up another dress that Anne turns down. “Well, since I’ve known my man since we were in diapers, I know his style, and therefore, know what he could potentially wear before I tell him what he’s going to wear.”

Anne lets out a sigh, wandering away from her sister while she continues to go through what seemed to be endless rows of dresses. Part of Anne wished she was like her sister: lucky enough to find a man that she would love forever when she was young, never having to worry about anything. The other part of Anne wished her family wasn’t so annoying about her finding a man, wishing that Sebby didn’t steal her phone and see Tyson’s name, and that their mom hadn’t come down and jumped to conclusions before she had a chance to defend herself.

“Hey,” Lucy comes up to Anne, “Why don’t we grab some food and then try a different store.” Anne nods, Lucy linking her arm in her sisters before taking her out of the store. “Have you met any of Tyson’s teammates before? I mean, you have to mean a lot to him if he’s bringing around the guys he spends the most time with.”

“He’s told me a little bit about all of them, but I haven’t met them yet.”

“You know this is big, then, right?” Lucy says, finding a line at the food court for them to order from.

Even if Lucy hadn’t picked a place that Anne wasn’t too fond of, her words made Anne lose her appetite. As far as she knew, Anne’s family thought they were dating, which they weren’t, while Tyson’s teammates thought they were friends, which they were. That’s what they had agreed to. They just needed to make it to New Year’s Day and then this would all be over.

Lucy keeps talking, rattling off information about Tyson’s teammates that Anne was sure she had found on their Wikipedia pages, Lucy’s ‘top of her class,’ ‘photographic memory’ coming out while Anne stayed silent.

“Look, Anne,” Lucy says once she gets the food she ordered for both of them, “if he likes you enough to bring you around his teammates, that’s a good thing. Think of it like Jason asking me to go to his soccer games when we were freshmen. He wants you to be at something important for him.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Anne shrugs, “I’m worried about bringing him into the belly of the beast the next afternoon.”

“Why, because you’ll be hungover and Ma and Dad haven’t seen you that way yet?” Lucy asks, smiling with her fork between her teeth.

Throwing her head back and groaning, Anne starts, “No. Ideally, we’ll still be drunk and calling you or Matthew to come to pick us up. Remember what Mom was like when I introduced you all to Andy?”

“Well, yeah, it was hate at first sight. And she was right to feel that way, obviously. If you think Tyson is the ‘one,’ then you’ll be fine.”

Anne chokes on the fries she was picking at when Lucy says that. “The ‘one’? Please. I wouldn’t know if he was the ‘one’ at this point. Right now, he’s my ‘plus one' at best.”

Lucy shrugs, a sly smile on her face as the two of them continue to eat in silence.

The two of them venture to another store, Anne not having high hopes in finding a dress, knowing that she was going to have to resort to wearing something old that probably wouldn’t be very ‘New Year’s Eve’ themed, or borrow something from Lucy, who, albeit having great style, definitely didn’t have anything that she would want to wear. Maybe she could call Stephanie or her cousin Lauren and see if they could pity her enough to let her borrow something.

Lucy went to the dress rack, Anne just wandered around the store. At this point, she didn’t even care if she found a dress; a long shirt would be just fine. She was nowhere near her sister or the dresses, but she saw something out of place, a skirt and sleeves peeking out in the middle of pant legs. She picked up the dress, solid black, which would probably fit her like a glove, off the shoulder. A black choker, which she had, and a nice pair of heels would make the dress perfect. And it was even on sale. Someone had probably put it there in order to hide it, but Anne didn’t know that for a fact, so could she really feel bad about wearing it?

She practically ran through the store to find her sister, grabbing her by the arm to the dressing room despite the stack of dresses on Lucy’s arm that were probably going to end up back on the rack or in Lucy’s own closet.

Anne looked at herself in the mirror, excited for the first time for Tyson to see her on New Year’s Eve wearing something like that. The two had been talking nonstop, but Anne had made it clear they were friends and that she wasn’t looking for anything. If something came along, she would know it, and honestly, she didn’t know it with Tyson.

But picturing him seeing her in the dress gave her a glimmer of hope that it was Tyson, even if he wasn’t the ‘one’ like Lucy had been badgering her about earlier.

“Hey, Annie, come on!” Lucy snaps Anne out of her fantasy, banging on the door to show her, “Jason texted me that he and the girls are going to be home in an hour with dinner so you can’t take all day.”

“You really think putting on this dress is going to take an hour?” Anne huffs, opening the door from the dressing room stall.

“Well, it depends on how many dresses you try,” Lucy starts, cutting herself off when she sees her sister in the dress. “Oh, Anne.”

“You like it?” she asks, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. It was a simple dress, knit and insignificant. She had no idea why she was so excited about it.

“I do,” Lucy says, coming up behind Anne and resting her chin on her sister’s shoulder as the two of them admire Anne in the mirror. “And you know who else is going to love it? Tyson.”

Anne took in a deep breath, Lucy rubbing her back between her shoulders before she let her get changed back into her clothes. ‘Tyson was going to love it.’ Anne hoped so.

=============

December 31, 2021

Tyson said he was going to be at Anne’s place at 9:15 to pick her up and drop off stuff at her place to stay over. Since they were going to be together all night, it was easier if Tyson stayed with Anne after the party before needing to drive to Anne’s uncle’s house the next afternoon.

But it was 9:30, and Anne was sitting on her couch, waiting for the boy who was supposed to fake being her boyfriend tomorrow to show up to take her to a party with a bunch of people who had no idea who she was or that this scenario was going to be happening the next day.

How did Anne end up like this? What if he didn’t show up? Why did she let her mom and siblings take over the conversation about her life and let them believe that Tyson was her boyfriend? And why did he agree to it?

Anne gets snapped out of her downward spiral of thoughts by her phone ringing, Tyson calling to hopefully tell her that he was waiting to be let in. “You said you were going to be here at 9:15,” she answers, not letting Tyson say anything.

“Well, traffic,” he explains, “It’s New Year’s Eve and I didn’t want to speed, either, and end up getting pulled over for that. Can you come let me in? It’s cold.”

Anne gets up from her couch, venturing downstairs in the slippers she was keeping on until the last minute. The heels Lucy had let her borrow weren’t uncomfortable, but she wasn’t about to wear them around her apartment building if she didn’t have to. She spots Tyson sitting on the couches in the lobby, going up to him. He was looking down at his phone, but seeing him made her heart race. He had on a white button-down with the top two buttons undone, a black jacket, and black pants on. She goes up to him, resting her hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

Tyson looks up, unable to find the words when he sees Anne. He stands up, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Anne sees this and lets out a small laugh. “Are you ok?” she asks, her nerves of seeing him dissipate while he acts like this.

“You’re,” he starts, letting out a breath as he looks her up and down. He shakes his head, a lazy smile on his face. “You’re beautiful.”

Anne laughs, grabbing his bag for him and leading him back upstairs to her apartment. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“You know,” Tyson starts when the two of them get to her door, “pretending to be your boyfriend really isn’t going to be that difficult.”

“Yeah,” Anne scoffs, putting down Tyson’s bag with a thud by the couch, “and if you keep flirting with me like you mean it, then they’ll really believe you.” Anne’s back was turned to Tyson, so she didn’t see the look on his face, him biting his lip at her words that she thought he was just pretending. “You’re staying over for a night, what the hell could you have brought with you?” she asks him.

Tyson clears his throat, still not over Anne’s little dig about him pretending to flirt with her. He’s been flirting with her since they met, has she really not noticed? “Uh, you didn’t tell me how formal or casual this is at your uncle’s so I just packed a few options.”

“Huh, I never pegged you for a fashionista,” Anne teases, putting on her shoes and coat as Tyson orders the Uber to take them to the venue.

“Apparently you’re never going to peg me at all,” Tyson mumbles, not loud enough for Anne to hear.

“Sorry?”

“Uh, the Uber will be here in a few minutes so we should get downstairs,” he tries to save himself.

“But,” Anne says, locking her door and following Tyson back down to the lobby, “You can pretty much wear anything to Uncle Vince’s house as long as it isn’t a Juventus shirt.”

“Juventus?”

“That’s Napoli’s biggest rival. It would be like me wearing, I don’t know,” Anne says as they both get into the car that had pulled up, “a Red Wings or a Wild shirt to something for you guys.”

Tyson can’t help but smile, even though he knows it’s probably meaningless. Anne had made it clear that the two of them were just friends. But what if, “you like hockey?”

Anne shrugs, looking out the window as they drove into the city. “I don’t hate it, but I couldn’t tell you much about it. I’m more of a basketball girl, honestly.” Tyson scoffs, Anne turning to him. She had a smile on her face, trying to hide the slight insult she felt by the noise he made. “What?”

“Hockey is clearly better.”

“You’re just biased.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” he teases her, reaching over and nudging her arm. His hand lingers on her arm for a little bit, not really thinking about Anne’s noticeable settling into his touch. “Um,” he clears his throat, taking his arm back and praying that it was dark enough that Anne couldn’t see the red on his face, “What are your teams?”

“Men’s are the Nuggets, of course, women are the Seattle Storm, and college I go for UConn.”

“Did you go there?”

Anne shakes her head, Tyson admiring the way her hair framed her face, thankful that she was looking out the window instead of at him. “Nope, I went to CU Denver. My dad’s other brother, Johnny, went to UConn, and when I was born, that was around the start of the women’s dynasty that they have. When my dad was away on trips and mom was working, he and Aunt Lisa would watch the four of us and always have the UConn games on. I fell in love with Diana Taurasi, Sue Bird, Maya Moore, Stephanie Dolson. I grew up wanting to play basketball and be like them, so I played basketball.”

“Did you in college?”

“No,” Anne laughs, looking at the building they were pulling up to. “I played until high school, and was definitely not good enough to play in college. I still love it, though.”

Tyson smiles at her, getting out of the car and rushing to the other side to help her out, linking his arm in hers to escort her in. “I love that,” he whispers to her, walking in and thankful that he had Anne on his arm that night.

The guys weren’t necessarily on his case about finding someone the way it seemed like Anne’s parents were, but that didn’t stop the chirping about him never having a girlfriend for as long as he was on the team. They knew she was his friend, but, hey, it was better than nothing.

Anne had no idea where Tyson took her, not recognizing the building they had walked into, but she was speechless at the sight of the grand ballroom, the lighting just dim enough that she couldn’t help but feel at peace, the noise from Tyson’s teammates and their families taking that away and leaving her overwhelmed. Tyson had slipped away to hang up their coats and grab drinks, leaving Anne to fend for herself for the time being.

She knew they weren’t late by any means but based on the sobriety, or lack thereof, that everyone was displaying, an outsider would think that Tyson and Anne had shown up hours late, everyone seemingly on at least their third drink of the night, if not more. Anne worked her way to the side of the room, giving herself a good view of the bar where Tyson was, hoping that he could find her after he was done chatting with whoever it was that had his attention.

“You look almost too comfortable for someone just watching everyone on the side. Who are you here with?” someone interrupts her thoughts. She snaps her attention to the mystery man standing next to her, leaning against the wall and looking out at the crowd as they danced and sang, drank and had fun. He was the same height as Tyson, just about, probably not that much younger but the rosiness on his cheeks made him look years younger than both her and Tyson.

“I’m here with Tyson,” she tells him, waving to the guy who was supposed to be by her side that night.

“You’re the girl who spilled her coffee on him when we went to the hospital for the charity event,” Rosy Boy laughs.

Anne scoffs, “I wish that wasn’t my legacy, but here we are.”

The two of them stand and watch everyone, laughing as some of the kids pretend to chase around the adults, one of them catching someone by the leg as the man pretended to fall down. “That’s our captain, Gabe,” Rosy Boy tells her, “being chased by Naylah, Nazem’s daughter.”

“So, Gabe, Nazem, Tyson,” Anne says, pointing at the only three men of the Avalanche that she knew, “You?”

“Cale Makar.”

“Anne DeFormicola.”

Cale smiles at her, turning his body so he was facing her directly. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Anne could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks, thankful that her hair was down to cover the red that she knew had appeared on her ears. “Uh, are you and Tyson together?” Cale asks, his voice shaking as he prayed he didn’t make the mistake of flirting with one of his teammate’s girls.

“No,” Anne tells him, “We’re just friends.”

Cale lets out a sigh of relief. “Good, I, uh,” he stammers, Anne’s confused look making him nervous despite the smile that was on her face, “I mean, good, good for me. You? Us? I don’t know what I’m saying.”

The two of them laugh together, Anne seeing Tyson out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t look particularly thrilled as he watched her and Cale talking, the distance between them shrinking as the conversation proceeded.

Before she knew it, Tyson was by her side, a glass of wine in hand for her that he practically thrust in her hand. “So, how’s Cale treating you?” Tyson asks, not hiding the discontent he felt seeing Anne and Cale so obviously flirting.

Anne watches Tyson down his drink, a little too fast for her liking, especially considering Cale was obviously uncomfortable by what his teammate was doing in that moment. “Very well, we were having a good conversation.” Anne sips her wine, Cale mumbling something and slipping away. “What was that about?”

“I want you to be careful?” Tyson says as if it were obvious, even though he was lying. He didn’t want to have to see Anne flirting with his teammate all night.

“Of who, Cale? Didn’t you tell me he was the human equivalent of a puppy?” Tyson rolls his eyes, looking over to the bar and already wishing he had more to drink before having this conversation. “What’s the worst he’s going to do? Bite my ankles? Bark when he wants to go play outside?”

“Ok, you’re being mean.”

“And you’re being ridiculous.” Anne studies his face, the way he bit his lip as he tried to find his words. “You remind me of Sebby.”

“Your little brother?” Tyson asks, not really wanting to be compared to him.

“He’s really protective of me. We’re all protective of each other, but he’s especially protective of me. You’re probably the same way with Kacey, right?”

Tyson swallows hard, nodding. “Yeah.” He wasn’t even just friend-zoned: he was sibling-zoned.

“You just don’t want me to get hurt,” Anne reasons, already finishing her wine. It’s not like it was that much in the glass. “I think if anyone was going to hurt me, it wouldn’t be Cale.”

The two of them stand there, watching Tyson’s teammates dancing as the music changed to something more upbeat. On the nearest table, Tyson put down his and Anne’s empty glasses, extending his hand out to Anne in a bid to lead her to the dance floor. Anne hesitates, not really too fond of dancing, but then Tyson smiled at her, raising his eyebrows, and for whatever reason, she felt like she had to go with him.

His hand found the small of her back, holding her close enough that they could still talk over the blaring from the music, his other hand in hers as he tried to get her to move to the rhythm of the song. It’s not that Anne was uncoordinated, but she just wasn’t that great with dancing. “I would have thought you were better at this,” Tyson teases her, looking down at their feet as Anne steps on for what he thought was the fourth time.

“I will gladly go back to my place against the wall and watch you make a fool out of yourself by yourself instead,” she jokes, rolling her eyes as Tyson spins her around.

He pulls her in closer than before, the music changing to a slower song. “I don’t think you want to do that,” Tyson tells her, his forehead pressed against hers. He could kiss her right now if she let him. This was technically their second date, if they considered the coffee place their first. And Tyson did. He didn’t know why he wanted this girl in front of him so badly so fast, but there was just something about her that he had to be with her.

Before Anne could say anything, she feels someone tapping on her shoulder. Pulling away from Tyson, she sees Cale standing there, his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. His entire face was red, clearly nervous, as he started, “Uh, sorry, but I was wondering if I could dance with Anne?”

Anne smiles at him, looking over at Tyson to signal that she wanted to. Cale was adorable, and something about him left Anne unable to say no to him. Tyson gives a sad smile, releasing Anne from his grasp. “I’m going to go get another drink,” he says, leaving his date and teammate alone to be closer than they were before. He couldn’t be with a girl that didn’t want to be with him, he thought, downing the drink he got probably too fast. At least tomorrow he could pretend that the two of them were together, pretending that he was hers and she was his.

But for now, he had to watch Anne smiling and staring at Cale, his teammate holding her so close that Tyson wanted nothing more than to be Cale.

Tyson had his back against the bar, watching Cale and Anne dance and have fun when JT came up to him. “Didn’t you bring a date?” JT was the only one Tyson had told about the fake dating plan between him and Anne.

“Yep.”

“She in the bathroom?”

“She’s dancing with Cale,” Tyson says, raising what he thinks was his third drink in their direction. He was praying that they couldn’t get any closer than they were now, but the way Anne was smiling, he knew that was what she wanted.

JT looks between Anne and Cale together and Tyson’s near angry expression as he took another sip of his drink. “Oh, I get it,” JT realizes, Tyson side-eyeing his friend. “You like her, and now you’re seeing her with Cale and you’re jealous.”

Tyson could feel himself start to panic. He did like her, but he wasn’t about to let everyone know that. “No,” he lies, JT scoffing at him. He hated that he knew him so well. “Maybe.”

“Well, then why aren’t you the one dancing with her?” JT asks, Tyson watching Anne throw her head back laughing, Cale burying his head in her shoulder, a smile just as big as hers on his face.

“She wanted to dance with him. What was I going to do, say ‘no?’

“Yes.”

“No,” he rebuts, signaling the bartender for yet another drink. “At least I can pretend to date her around her family,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, until she pretends to dump you because she’s really dating Cale.”

“Maybe in the new year you should try to be more helpful instead of whatever you are now,” Tyson snaps. “Sorry,” he mumbles into the fresh drink he was bringing to his lips, planning on downing it as fast as he got it. If he had to watch Anne dancing with Cale, he might as well be drunk so he can’t remember it in the morning.

“It’s almost midnight,” Cale whispers to Anne.

“Yeah,” she smirks, having a feeling she knew where this was going, especially judging by the way his grip tightened around her waist.

“Uh,” he clears his throat, getting nervous about what he wanted to ask her. “Who are you kissing at midnight?"

Anne can’t help but smile, his innocence endearing to her. Tyson and JT were still watching the two of them dance even though Anne and Cale were too focused on each other to notice. “I think it depends on your answer,” she flirts.

“I was kind of hoping it would be you,” he tells her.

Anne laughs, “Yeah, I got that,” she tells him, running her hand through his hair at the nape of his neck, sending a chill down his spine. “I was hoping it would be you, too,” she tells him, closing her eyes with their foreheads pressed against each other. She almost wished she had spilled her coffee on Cale instead of Tyson, not needing to pretend to date him tomorrow and instead just date Cale and date him for real. It might have been the alcohol or the night that was making her feel this way, but Cale was not a hard guy to like.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Tyson mumbles, not wanting to see Anne and Cale anymore, setting his drink down and leaving the room before JT could protest.

Soon after, everyone began their countdown to midnight, chanting while Anne and Cale stayed silent.

Anne knew Cale wanted to kiss her before the countdown was over. He was hovering against her lips as soon as someone yelled ‘ten!’ She didn’t know what it was about him, but she was ready to kiss him, not waiting for everyone to get past ‘five’ before she connected with him for a second, already wanting more as soon as they started.

Cale pulled away fast, smiling, moving his hands from her waist to cup her face, kissing her as soon as everyone around them was screaming ‘Happy New Year!’ When they finally pulled away, Cale’s entire face was red, and Anne knew that there was some color on her cheeks, too. Kissing Cale was something else, but something was missing. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.

=============

January 1, 2022

Anne and Cale danced a little longer, some of the guys and their families starting to leave.

“I think I have to go find Tyson,” Anne tells Cale, realizing she hadn’t seen the boy she came with for the better part of an hour.

“Uh, wait,” Cale says as Anne starts to pull away, Anne stopping as Cale smiles at her. He puts on her jaw, tilting her head up to kiss her again. “Can I see you again?”

Anne smiles, biting her lip. “I’d like that. But I really have to find Tyson.”

The two of them start walking around, trying to locate their lost boy. “Are you coming back with us?”

“Us?”

“Tys and I live in the same building,” Cale explains, part of him wanting to ask Anne to go home with him.

Before he can, Anne starts, “No, Tyson is staying at my place tonight. We have something tomorrow. Today,” she corrects herself.

“Oh, ok. Well, then, can I get your number?”

“When we find Tyson because he has the ticket for our coats and my phone is in my coat,” she explains, regretting giving everything to Tyson.

“Anne!” they hear someone yell, turning around to see Tyson stumbling over despite JT trying to help him up. Anne hadn’t told him not to get very drunk out of caution for having to deal with her family in a few hours, but now she was regretting forgetting.

“How much did he drink?” Anne panics, slinging Tyson's free arm around her shoulder.

“When I got to him he was already on four and I think he had at least three more while I was with him. I couldn’t tell you what he had on his own,” JT explains, the four of them getting their stuff and trying to get out while Tyson could barely walk.

Tyson mumbles something, trying to lean his head against Anne’s shoulder while they walked, despite the three-inch height difference that would have been bigger had Anne not been wearing heels. JT asks him to repeat it while he orders and Uber to get Tyson and Anne home. “Anne’s so pretty,” Tyson says, practically screaming it in Anne’s ear.

“Thank you, Tyson,” she says, trying to be as sweet as she could despite her anger she felt for him getting this drunk.

Tyson keeps babbling incoherently, none of them wanting to try to figure out what he was saying while they were waiting in their Ubers.

“Hey, Anne, hand me your phone,” JT asks, trying to reach out to her with his free hand while also making sure Tyson didn’t fall over or fall on Anne. She does as he asks, Cale standing there wondering why he didn’t just do that in the first place. “Text me when you two get back to your place and let me know how he is before you leave for your Uncle’s.”

“Yeah, of course,” Anne says, not even thinking about how he would have known where the two of you were going later.

Before Cale can ask for Anne’s phone, the Uber for her and Tyson pulls up. “Are you sure you’re good to get him back?” Cale asks her while JT gets Tyson in the car safely.

Anne nods, putting her hand on Cale’s bicep to reassure him. “Yeah, he should sober up enough to walk with just me during the drive back. Thank you, though,” she says, giving him a quick kiss before climbing into the car.

“I wish it was me,” Tyson slurs, his head on Anne’s shoulder as the Uber pulls away.

“What’s that, Tyson?” Anne asks.

“I wish it was me that was kissing you.”

Anne looks at him, his eyes closed as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “When?”

“At midnight. I wanted to kiss you at midnight. I just hope you didn’t kiss Cale. That would make me sad,” he says, letting out a yawn.

Before Anne could say anything to respond, Tyson was asleep, leaving her alone with her thoughts, and the Uber driver probably hoping they remembered this to tell their friends in the morning. Why would he have wanted to kiss her? They were just friends. They had both made it very clear that everything they were doing was just out of friendship because they both needed someone to be there for the other and just pretend they were something they were not.

This wasn’t going to be like one of those ‘fake dating’ tropes that Anne had read in books when she was a teenager or in rom coms. Those weren’t real life. That didn’t happen.

Anne gets Tyson up to her apartment, surprised that she was able to drag him out of the Uber and balance him long enough that he didn’t fall over and take her with him to the ground. She practically threw him onto her bed, getting him in position so no matter what happened he would be fine. He was asleep almost immediately, a soft snore coming from his lips.

Anne pulls out her phone to text JT that his teammate was asleep, getting herself ready to go sleep on the couch.

The next morning, Anne woke up to Tyson sitting at her kitchen table, already having helped himself to a cup of coffee. “You look like you’re feeling great,” Anne commented, Tyson clearly hungover from the night before.

“Why did I wake up in your bed and not your couch?” Tyson asked.

Anne shrugs, fixing herself a cup of coffee to join him. “You’re my guest and the couch isn’t the most comfortable thing to fall asleep on if you aren’t used to it.”

“You are?”

“I’ve fallen asleep plenty of times while I was reading on that couch,” Anne tells him, wishing she had something to offer him to eat. “Uh, when we get to my uncle’s house, there’s going to be a ton of food so if we didn’t eat now, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

Tyson nods, looking down at his coffee. He wished that he didn’t have to pretend to be Anne’s boyfriend. He already wanted to be more, but Cale was already closer to that in one night than Tyson was in how many weeks. “What do I need to know about your family before I meet them?”

Anne starts rambling about her family: her grandparents moved back to New York which was where they grew up so she hasn’t seen them in a while because they’re too old to make the trip out here and she hasn’t had time to make the trip to see them. They were going to her Uncle Vince’s house, her dad’s older brother. He has three kids, Michael, Emily, and Spencer, all of them dating someone. Then there’s Uncle Johnny, her dad’s younger brother, who has two kids, Lauren and Landon, and three grandkids from Lauren: Christopher, Lydia, and Henry.

Tyson didn’t even know if he was going to remember everything she was saying; from the food that Johnny brings just for Landon because of allergies, or the food that was designated as ‘the kid's food’ which was absolutely off-limits unless you were under the age of five years old. The Sam Adams’ beer is only meant for Aunt Lisa and Aunt Laura unless they offer it to you, but the wine is a free for all because it’s guaranteed that everyone of age brought their own bottle anyway, including Anne.

“Wait, but I don’t have a bottle,” Tyson asks, both of them getting up to get ready.

Anne smiles at him, going into one of her cabinets. “You want white or red?” she asks, holding up two bottles. “Because, as you know, I’m partial to red.”

Tyson laughs, taking the bottle of white wine from her, not even sure if he should be drinking anything given the night before. He was just lucky he somehow didn't feel worse despite how much he had. “I knew you were my kind of girl.”

They stand there for a second, neither of them sure how to react or what to do. “We should go get ready,” Anne says, bringing the bottles over to where she kept her keys so she wouldn’t forget them.

She retreats to her room, leaving Tyson to get ready out in the open of the rest of her apartment. That wasn’t a moment they just had in her kitchen, she tells herself. She puts on a pair of jeans, trying to find a shirt suitable enough for her mom to not nag her about, finally settling on a sweater that she was almost sure was Lucy’s that she stole a few months ago.

“Hey, Anne,” she hears Tyson calling her. “Someone’s calling you.”

An unknown number flashed on her screen in Tyson's hand, her forgetting she left the phone by the couch. Normally an unsaved contact was something that she wouldn’t answer, but the Calgary area code, for no reason whatsoever, told her that she had to answer it. “Hello?”

“Anne? It’s Cale. Sorry, I got your number from JT.”

Anne smiles, looking at Tyson who could hear his teammate's voice just loud enough that it made him upset. Tyson’s words from the night before rang through Anne’s mind as she finally answered him back, “Hey, no, it’s fine. What’s up?” Anne goes back into her room to finish getting ready, putting Cale on speaker as she does.

“I just wanted to check on you. And Tyson, I mean, that you were ok with him last night.”

Anne laughs at his nerves, the same ones that came through when they were first talking last night that she was thankful had faded as time went on. “Yeah, we’re fine. We’re getting ready to head out, though.”

“Any idea what time you would be done? I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner tonight?”

She could hear his voice shaking, wishing that she could say yes. “I can’t tonight, but maybe another time?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he says, both of them saying goodbye as Anne grabs what she needs to head out.

“You ready?” she asks Tyson. He looked good, a simple black button-down he had paired with jeans. Why did he have to look good? Tyson nods, grabbing the wine while Anne grabbed her keys.

The two of them drive in silence, her phone plugged into her car with Cale and JT’s contacts popping up on the screen on her center console as they were texting her. “I’m glad you got along with some of the guys last night,” Tyson tells her, finally breaking the silence between them.

“Yeah, me too. Especially since someone seemed to enjoy the bar more than anything else,” she teases.

“Hey, the bartender was attractive, and giving free drinks, what was I supposed to do?”

Anne laughs, knowing that wasn’t the real reason he was there the entire night. She didn’t know what that reason was, but it wasn’t because of the looks of the person giving Tyson drinks. “What do you remember from last night?”

Tyson hesitates, really not sure what to answer. “I remember the drinks and you were dancing with Cale at some point.”

“You remember none of the Uber drive back?”

He almost did. He knew he had fallen on Anne’s shoulder, but he didn’t remember getting into the car with her. He wasn’t even sure that Anne was the one that got him in the car. “Not really, no.”

“Ok,” Anne says, partially thankful for that. She wasn’t sure she would want to relive the part of the night, nor did she think Tyson would either.

She pulls up to her uncle’s house, already seeing Lucy’s car and her cousin Spencer's sitting in the driveway. “Ready to enter the belly of the beast?” she asks him, patting his thigh as a sign of encouragement.

Tyson looks out to the house, seeing someone standing in the doorway waiting for them to get out of the car. “We’ve gotta start acting like a couple, now, don’t we?” he says, leaning closer to her across the center console.

Anne rolls her eyes, knowing that he wanted a kiss or something, anything to show Aunt Laura that Tyson was actually her boyfriend. She does kiss him, sweet and slow. Tyson was sure if they weren’t being watched, he would have gone for more, but knowing he couldn’t was killing him. He had to make the most of the time he had with Anne’s family.

When Anne pulled away, she reached up to Tysons face, grazing her thumb along his beard as his hand connected with hers. She didn’t know why, but she kissed him again, their foreheads pressed together as they sat there in her car. It was different kissing him compared to Cale. A good different, and like last night, she couldn't put her finger on why. She almost forgot where they were, startled by Aunt Laura knocking on her window.

Anne’s face had to be bright red, embarrassed that her aunt saw whatever moment, real or fake or whatever that was, while sitting in the driveway of her house. She greets her aunt as she gets out of the car, handing her the two bottles of wine.

“You must be Tyson!” she says, more excited than Anne thought she would be. “Teresa’s told us so much about you, come in, come in,” she gestures. Anne was sure that she would have dragged him in by the collar of his shirt if she didn’t have the wine in her hands already.

Tyson looks at Anne, confused. “I have no idea what my mom could have said to her,” Anne says. Tyson shrugs, grabbing Anne’s hand as she leads him into the house.

Lucy comes running up as soon as Anne steps through the door, a baby that couldn’t be more than a year old in her arms. “Hey there, Hazel,” Anne coos, taking her goddaughter from her sister. Hazel reaches out, grabbing Anne’s hair as Anne winces at the slight pain from the baby’s pull. “This is Tyson.”

“Hi, pretty girl,” Tyson says, Hazel reaching out, squirming to get away from Anne and into Tyson’s arms. “Is it ok if I hold her?” he asks Lucy, waiting for her to nod before Anne passes her off to him.

Lucy pulls her sister aside, a silly grin on her face. “He’s perfect,” she gushes, “Look at him!” Tyson was bouncing Hazel up and down, Hazel shrieking with glee with him.

“He’s not perfect,” Anne says, “but he might be close.” The sisters laugh, Lucy hugging Anne from behind while they continue to watch Anne’s ‘boyfriend’ interact with Lucy’s youngest daughter. Anne wasn’t even sure if she was really pretending as the rest of her family came into her uncle’s house.

Teresa was practically attached to Tyson the entire time, as were Skylar and Harper once Tyson started playing with them. Literally, Tyson was walking around Uncle Vince’s house with Skylar and Harper clinging to each of his legs. Tyson was the center of attention, Anne wishing that it wasn’t because everyone was just finally excited that Anne found a man.

“What do you think of him?” Anne asks Sebby, the two of them watching Tyson and Matthew talking as if there was no one else was in the room. She had heard ‘touchdown’ and ‘linebacker’ come up in conversation, meaning Matthew was going on a rant about the Broncos, something that he did way too often.

Sebby looks him up and down, pursing his lips while he thought about it. “I’m not sure I trust him.”

“Oh, come on,” Anne whines.

“He’s an athlete. And a professional one, at that,” Sebby throws his hands up in defense. Growing up, Sebby was the only one who didn’t really like sports, feeling they were a waste of time when he could be doing something like reading or studying. Sports were only relevant when his siblings were involved, otherwise, he hated them.

“Give him a chance. Please?” Anne begs, not even sure if it were necessary. “He’s not Andy.”

Sebby narrows his eyes at his sister, jumping slightly as Tyson and Matthew start laughing. “Why didn’t you mention him before Christmas?”

“If you remember, I didn’t mention him at Christmas, you did,” Anne scolds him, trying to figure out what story to tell her brother. “And, it was still new. I didn’t want to say anything if it wasn’t going to be something.”

“Is it?”

“Maybe. I think so,” Anne lies. At least, she thought she was lying.

Tyson comes over to Anne while she was talking with Sebby about his upcoming semester, his last one before he graduated from college and hopefully entered law school. He wraps his arms around her, kissing her cheek before resting his chin on her shoulder. “You think I could steal her for a second?” he asks.

Sebby narrows his eyes, Tyson a little thrown off by her brother’s reaction. “Sure.”

Tyson brings Anne into another room, praying that no one would walk in on them. “We didn’t talk about anything we could say to your family about how we met,” he brings up.

“I was planning on deferring that to you since I normally can’t get a word in otherwise,” she admits, even though she hadn’t thought about it before.

“That’s not fair,” Tyson says, looking over Anne’s shoulder to see someone in her family looking at the two of them. “Your family is watching.”

Anne follows Tyson’s gaze, turning and waving at Landon and Lauren. She reaches up and puts her hand on Tyson’s cheek, Tyson taking it with his own and kissing the palm of her hand. “When you see how I get pushed aside at dinner, you’ll understand why it’s fair.”

The two of them continue talking about how they were going to go on with the rest of the day, Anne telling Tyson she was fine with everything he had done so far and really didn’t care if he kept doing it. Anne, not wanting to tell Tyson, liked what he was doing. It felt right for some reason. Was Tyson right that it should have been the two of them kissing at midnight and not her and Cale?

Tyson’s drunken confession from the night before was still ringing in her mind when everyone got called to sit down for dinner. Tyson was still, unsurprisingly, the center of attention. His hand was on Anne’s thigh for most of dinner, Lucy’s eyes never leaving as Anne rested her’s in his. The usual rounds of conversation started, asking Lucy about her medical practice, Jason about Andersen’s, his restaurant that bore his family’s name, Matthew and Steph about work at United, Sebby about how he was feeling going into this last semester of college.

Then the conversation was supposed to turn to Anne, normally swamped with questions about Anne’s lack of love life. Instead, of course, the conversation turned to Tyson.

“How did you two meet?” Teresa asks, giving a smug look to her daughter, “Anne hasn’t told us anything about you.”

Tyson hesitates, figuring Anne wouldn’t want her family knowing they met when she spilled her coffee on him. “I was out with some of my teammates after practice one day,” he starts, hoping that whatever was about to come out of his mouth was good enough. “We were at a coffee shop, and I saw Anne there grabbing something before her shift at the hospital. I saw her smile at the barista when she thanked him for taking her order and,” he looks at her, taking Anne and putting it on the table for her family to see. “Something about that smile of hers I just knew I had to talk to her. I needed her in my life and I’m happy she’s in it.”

He kisses the side of her head, whispering, “we have to remember that story now,” against her skin. When he pulls away, Anne smiles at him, signaling that she would. There was no way she could forget that honestly. Why was pretending to like him so easy?

The conversation stays on him for a little longer, Anne never being asked anything. Finally, Emily stands up with Jimmy, saying they had an announcement. “We’re engaged!” she squeals, holding up her left hand with the ring that she either just put on, or no one noticed as the family congratulated her. Jimmy had proposed at midnight, down on one knee right as whoever they were with said ‘Happy New Year!’

“Another wedding!” Teresa yells, Tony rolling his eyes next to her. He didn’t hate weddings, he hated his wife’s need to spend an extravagant amount of money on a new dress and presents for the couple every time. “And then maybe we’ll have one for Anne in the next year, too, oh Tony we’ll get to plan another wedding.”

“Mom!” Anne scolds, Tyson’s face getting bright red. “That ringing in your ears is not wedding bells.”

The rest of the dinner goes on fine, Anne and her siblings off in one of the rooms while their spouses and Tyson were nowhere to be found.

“I think Tyson’s scared of me,” Lucy says, examining her nails.

“He might just be intimidated by you, Signoria Perfezione,” Anne teases her with the nickname Lucy got when she was little, her need for order prevalent from a young age.

“Yeah, he said that Anne told him how smart you were and he didn’t want to feel stupid around you,” Matthew points out.

“Well, shouldn’t he be intimidated by Anne?” Sebby asks.

“I know you’re trying to compliment me, but your tone says otherwise,” Anne says. “Why don’t you like him?”

The three of them look at their youngest siblings. “There’s something off,” he starts, Anne feeling her heart start to race. “He’s like borderline pretending to be with you.”

“Come on, man, you’re paranoid,” Matthew scoffs, Lucy agreeing.

“I mean,” Sebby explains, “He looks at Anne like he wants to be with her, not like he actually is with her.”

“You’re just over analyzing. We’re together. Probably more together than you and Collins are,” Anne fires back, part of her hating that she was lying to her siblings, the other part of her wondering how much of it was a lie.

Sebby shrugs, “Well yeah, because we broke up.” Anne’s jaw drops, Matthew raises his eyebrows in shock, Lucy the only one to scream and actually make a verbal acknowledgment of what he just said. “Yeah, the other night. She finally blew up over the whole, ‘I don’t want to move to Boston or California,’ thing and said if I wasn’t willing to move to be with her then I wasn’t good enough for her.”

“Oh, I don’t like that,” Anne says.

"Why didn't you tell us," Lucy asks.

"I see how they act about Anne never being with someone," he says, Anne glaring at him. "I'll just find someone in law school and not say anything unless they ask. Plus, I don’t want to be that far away from you guys. Why would I stay with someone who wants me to do that?” he admits.

“Aw, you do like us!” Lucy teases him, her and Matthew tackling him in a hug while Sebby yells for them to get off, yelling louder when Anne joins in.

“Hey, um,” Tyson interrupts, “Sorry, you’re having a moment.”

“No, no, what’s up?” Anne breaks off, going over to him.

“Your aunt said dessert is out,” he tells them, or, rather, tells Anne with her siblings in earshot.

“See, you’re delusional,” Lucy tells Sebby as they walk past Anne and Tyson into the next room.

Tyson looks at her confused, waiting for an explanation. “I think Sebby’s catching on to us pretending,” she shrugs, really not that worried. She and Tyson could talk later about how long this would go on, and if anyone in the family were to find out that it was fake, Sebby would be the one to keep it quiet.

She goes into the next room, leaving Tyson there by himself. “Yeah, pretending,” he says to himself.

[shiftyskip]

Joseph “Joe” David Liebgott

The Real Joseph Liebgott:

Joseph David Liebgott was born in Lansing, Michigan in May 17, 1915 to Joseph (Josef) Liebgott Sr and Mary. Joseph Liebgott Sr was of German descent, but he was born in Beresztocz, Hungary. Joe’s mother was Yugoslavian, but was reported as born in either Yugoslavia or Hungary I am not sure which one because records show both. On his father’s side his grandparents were Yugoslavian as well. On his mother’s sider, they seem to be from Hungary. His mother immigrated in 1909, Lieb’s father immigrated in 1912.

Below is a picture believed to be his parents. 

 He was the oldest of his siblings. He has four sisters: Mary, Elizabeth, Anna, and Barbara, and one brother, Stephen/Steffen . Both of his parents spoke German, which would later help him during the war. His father worked in the auto industry before they moved. 

His family soon moved to California around 1927 and his dad became a barber. He was the oldest of his siblings, one brother and four sisters. He was extremely protective of his younger sisters

Liebgott and his siblings attended Catholic schools. This is where learned how to box and played soccer.

After high school, Liebgott drove a taxi around San Francisco. This career was temporary and he soon attended barber college.

He was also previously married before the war. He was married in July 31, 1933  to  a woman named Frances. They had one child, David Albert together on February 27, 1934. But the couple soon divorced within a year, and he was living with his family again by 1940, where he was working on a forestry project. Meanwhile his ex-wife and son moved into her family. Here is Joe and Frances:

He eventually became a barber and this was his career when he enlisted at the age of 26. Liebgott chose the paratroopers to be able to make more money to be able to put a down payment on his parents’ house. 

Included is a photo of Joe and his mother

He has a Jewish service card, registered under his mother’s name. But his family denied he was Jewish, stating he was a German Roman Catholic. I’ll attach it below (filtered for safety). 

In his draft card he is listed as 5 feet and 5 inches tall and was 109 pounds. He had blue-grey eyes and brown hair.

Malarkey remembers meeting Liebgott on his way to Toccoa where they became part of the original Toccoa men. Liebgott was trained under the harsh command of Herbert Sobel.

Liebgott didn’t talk much about the war, so there will be little but other’s words to put here. This is a photo from 1945 in France.

Right before the jump out of the airplane, he put his barber skills to use and gave a few of the men Mohawks. 

He would jump out of the airplanes with the rest of the men on June 6, 1944. He received the bronze star for his bravery at Brecourt Manor, where he worked with Winters and several other men, Compton, Guarenere, Wynn, Lipton, Toye, Malarkey, and Ranney to destroy a German Battery firing on Utah Beach on the day of the D-Day Invasion.

He cut off the finger of a German that he had bayoneted and took the man’s ring near Carentan. At Carentan, Ed Tipper was seriously wounded after clearing out a house with Liebgott. Liebgott grabbed Tipper, yelled for a medic, and told Tipper that he’d be okay. Welsh and Lieb dragged Tipper into the street until Welsh could get him back to the aid station.

After Brecourt, Compton recalls a painful memory with Liebgott in his book, Call of Duty, Compton and Liebgott were patrolling along hedges at dusk. Across the way, in another set of hedges were two men. Both were dressed in German ponchos, one was holding a German gun. Assuming that these men were in fact German, he and Liebgott shot the men. Come to find out, when they checked their dog tags, they were not Germans. They were Americans. They had just killed fellow soldiers in friendly fire.

October 5, 1944. Winters sent a few Youmen out on patrol to take an outpost near a windmill. Liebgott and a few other men (James Alley among them) went with Sgt. Youmen. They sent one man ahead, to look out over the dike. The man spotted German machine guns. German voices approached the remaining boys. Lieb called out for the Youman, as we was trailing behind, only to have grenades thrown at him and the other men. Liebgott got minor wounds while James Alley received 32 shrapnel wounds in his left side, stretching from his face down. They’d run into a company of SS.

Liebgott was known for being rough with prisoners, the fighting that followed the injuries wit the SS company was a prime example of this. After Winters led his patrol to attack these Germans, in which during the fighting they lost William Dukeman, 7 Germans surrendered. The most famous story of Liebgott is as follows, in Dick Winter’s words.

As Winters explains in his book, “Tech/5 Joseph D. Liebgott had been slightly wounded in the arm, but he was ambulatory so I assigned him the mission of escorting seven German prisoners to the rear. Liebgott had earned the reputation of being one of Easy’s best combat soldiers, but we had all heard stories that he was very rough on prisoners. Liebgott was one of Easy Company’s “killers,” so I deemed  it appropriate to take a bit of caution. When he heard me say, “Take the prisoners back to the battalion command post,” he replied. “Oh, boy! I’ll take care of them.” In his exuberance, Liebgott stood up and paced back and forth and he was obviously very nervous and concerned. I stopped him in his tracks. “There are seven prisoners and I want seven prisoners turned over to battalion.” Liebgott was highly incensed and started to throw a tantrum.Somewhat unsure of how he would react, I then dropped my M-1 to my hip, threw off my safety, and said, Liebgott, drop all your ammunition and empty your rifle.” There was much grumbling and swearing, but he did as I had ordered. “Now,” I said, “you can put one round in your rifle. If you drop a prisoner, the rest will jump you.””

Liebgott got all 7 prisoners back.  

Joe would recover in a hospital in England with Webster, but he was back before Bastogne. Here is the record for that: 

Name:Joseph D Liebgott Race:White, includes Mexican (White) Rank:Enlisted Man Admission Age:29 Birth Date:abt 1915 Admission Date:Oct 1944 Discharge Date:Nov 1944 Military Branch:Infantry, Parachute Troops or Units Diagnosis:FirstLocation: Ulna, generally; CausativeAgent: Artillery Shell, Fragments, Afoot or unspecified Type of Injury:Casualty, battle Injured in Line of Duty:In line of duty Type of Discharge:Duty Length of service:2 Year(s), 6 Month(s)

In Bastogne, Winters made him a runner to get away from the tension and constant stress of fighting.  One story of his service was outside of Foy is the battle of Noville, he and Earl Hale ducked into a barn and took 6 SS officers prisoner. Outside the barn, a shell exploded. One of the SS officers took this as an opportunity and jumped Hale. He slit Hale’s throat. Liebgott instantly shot and killed the officer. He then killed the others. Hale survived miracuously. 

At some point, before the end of the war, Liebgott became first platoon’s interpreter-radioman. This was because he could speak some German. But Webster claimed in his book that the German’s didn’t understand his Yiddish. 

He was with Webster when they took Hitler’s Nest. They spent their time drinking Hitler’s alcohol together with a few other men. He was living with Headquarters Company while there.  

Of course, the war came to an end and everyone who wanted to was discharged.

Over the course of the war, Lieb was injured 3 times and won 3 purple hearts. He refused one because the wound was “just a scratch”. He would receive partial disability for his wounds.

When he returned home, he disappeared for two years. Eventually he was found living in  Yuma, California. He didn’t come to reunions, even when offered multiple times. His father simply told the vets “not to mess with him”. 

After the war, Liebgott was a barber for a short time. He married again to a woman named Peggy in 1949. They had eight kids together. Making Lieb’s total children come to nine, although he was mostly involved with the last eight. They lived on a barber’s salary, not leaving much room for fun activities but everyone had their basic needs met. He often  only had one day a week off and would take his kids to a Long Beach pike, where they would visit an amusement park. 

Liebgott liked to bet on the ponies at the racetrack. Every other sunday, him and his boss would take the boss’ airplane down to Mexico.

He is believed to have never contacted anyone from his days in Easy Company. He just wanted to get away from the war. 

The Liebgotts divorced in  April of 1969. She remarried, but he never did. He was described as really quiet by his granddaughter. 

She states, in Marcus Brotherton’s book Company of Heroes (pages 120-121) “His hands looked like a man who worked with his hands, sunspots all over. He absolutely loved his grandkids. he had false teeth that he flipped out of his mouth and smiled, threatening to kiss us with his gums. He was a tickler. He never held babies over his shoulder...because he wanted them to see everything....He didn’t have a lot of money - I’m pretty sure all he had was his veteran’s benefits...He made all of the bikes for the grandkids by scouring thrift stores for dilapidated bikes. He stripped the bikes down to their frame, fixed and assembled them as good as new. He let each grandchild pick the color of new paint for his or her bike....I always knew the specific foods we were going to eat at his house. He had bite-sized candy bars and store brand soda-pop. There was no drinking water in his house. He always lived in rental houses...” 

He was very neat, and keep his house and appearance orderly. However, he was always working in the garage, so the house had black smudges from the dirt on his hands. 

However, Liebgott was not perfect. While he hated the Nazis, he was also seen as a bigot, maybe even harsher. Rhonda explained that he threw the n word around like it wasn’t a big deal. He blamed the wrong goings of the world on different ethnic groups. Rhonda started seeing a guy from El Salvador, he asked if her partner “even spoke English?”

As he grew older, Lieb got sicker. He eventually lost the use of one of his legs from a hernia. He was confined to a chair and hated any new technology. He was stuck in a wheelchair, angry when he would hit a cabinet. 

Lieb did not talk about his military career until towards his end. He would spend time with his son Jim, watching tv talking about the war during a war movie.  He would talk about the war when he was mad, possibly angry at himself for doing a lot of killing and other things that people his age shouldn’t have to do.

In 1992, Liebgott developed a tumor in his neck, near his windpipe that would cause a lot of pain. Jim took him to the hospital on Father’s Day. Shortly later, on June 28, 1992 Liebgott died. He was against a funeral and just wanted to be cremated, so his family did as he wished. They still have his ashes and letters and the Toccoa book. 

[cloverrover]

Surprises

Summary: Y’all be road tripping and they didn’t know you could rap like crazy.

Warnings: PG-13 cuz I mean it is a Macklemore song so

A/N: This, other than Bonfire, is my first writing of any sort so be kind? Lol and yes, it’s Tom Holland because yeah. But like it, reblog it, please just spread this out lol

“Are you sure you have everything packed?”

“For the ever-living hell Tommie, I have done this trip so many times I know what to pack. So yes, I’m sure I have everything packed.”

“Really? Because you’re travel charger isn’t in here. It’s on the counter dumbass.” Blushing like crazy after snapping at him for the millionth time that day alone, you get out of the car to get your charger.

Ever since you could remember your parents took you on a road trip at least once a year. When you got older, between soccer games and your parents both getting sick, they started to happen less and less. Eventually they both died, leaving you alone to sort out everything by your lonesome and leaving you grieving a lone. The only memory left being the old ratty map they liked to use instead of a GPS.

It took a while for you to get used to life without your parents. Being an only child with no other living family, it was a lot and it took you to a dark place for a while until you realized that your parents wouldn’t want to see you like this.

So, you started over. Packed up everything and moved to the mountains in North Carolina where you knew no one and no one knew you. You couldn’t bear to leave the state you were born in, but you couldn’t live on the coast anymore. Too much pain and too many memories but you couldn’t leave home still. You always did your road trip, granted it was backwards now with you driving east instead of west, but you loved the stops on the way.

Getting back into the truck, you started the engine, began your drive, and tried to ignore the boys bickering over what to listen to.

“Ahem. Harrison, Tommie, I’m the driver. Driver picks, not that passenger bullshit y’all like to try and play.”

“Fine Al.” Harrison grins cheekily at you, knowing your hatred of that nickname.

“Harold, call me Al again, and I’ll leave you at a back-hick gas station with no money and no phone.” Glaring at him through the mirror, you see a paled Harrison sitting and knowing you would actually do it, despite the fact he was famous.

“Hah she got you good Harrison.”

“Oh, I’d do that to you too Tom don’t you worry. I can’t separate the two of you.”

“I thought you loved me Ally.”

“I do Tom ha-ha don’t worry. But I’m still hella serious.”

Ignoring the boys further, you plug your phone in, pull up Spotify, and blast Macklemore. You don’t know what it was about him, but he always calmed you down; and with the memories this trip would undoubtedly bring up, you’d need some calm.

“Ok Harrison, I’ll allow you to choose the song, that’s it.” Grabbing the phone before you can even finish speaking, the boys unknowingly chooses your favorite song.

Granted you were still getting to know the boys even after 2 years of knowing them, but they’d never managed to figure out what your favorite song much less artist. They knew you liked Macklemore but that was about it for rap music. Soon Downtown was filling the old truck and you were casually singing along.

For some reason, you were always nervous about singing around the boys. You met them briefly before they started filming for Spider-Man: Homecoming and were fine singing around them until then. When you really thought about it, you realized that it was because of Zendaya. You didn’t hate her. God no if anything you loved her, you just knew you couldn’t really sing like her though. Who can? The only thing you were semi-good at was rapping.

“I’m headed downtown, cruising through the alley

Tip-toeing in the street like Daily

Pulled up, moped to the valley

Whitewalls on the wheels like mayonnaise

Dope, my crew is ill, and all we need is two good wheels

Got gas in the tank, cash in the bank

And a bad little mama with her ass in my face

Imma lick that, stick that, break her off Kit-Kat

Snuck her in backstage, you don’t need a wristband

Dope.”

Without realizing you had the undivided attention of two very handsome British boys, you kept on going until you neared the end and saw they were staring at you. In what emotion, you couldn’t tell, you were too freaked out and immediate shut up.

After some very awkward glances at each other, Tom was the first to break the silence.

“Ally, what the actual hell was that?”

“It’s nothi-“

“Don’t even say that was nothing Ellie that was amazing!” You were in such a state of embarrassment you didn’t even realize Harrison used a nickname only he and Tom seemed to use.

“Harrison, it really wasn’t anything. I can’t even rap well enough anyways.”

“Why didn’t we know about this before??”

You didn’t want to tell them that because they knew Zendaya, that they could always hear her sing and not worry about dying cat sounds coming to their ears.

“Guys it really isn’t anyt-“

“Alexandria Giselle Smith. You tell us why we didn’t know you could rap and you tell us right now. Or no more head massages.” Turning to look Tom in the eye, not really believing him, because everyone knew he loved giving you those, you saw he was just as serious as you were about leaving them at a gas station.

“I didn’t want to tell you guys because y’all knew Zendaya.” Not wanting to look at either of them because you know it’s a stupid as fuck reason.

“I know it’s a shitty reason but there it is.” Blushing slightly, you focus on the road, no longer rapping, only wanting to get to get to the Outer Banks as soon as possible. A few minutes and more songs go by before either boy says something.

“You know just because we know someone who sings professionally doesn’t mean we don’t appreciate a dying cat sound every now and then. And no, we aren’t saying you sound like a dying cat when you sing. You sound very average and honestly, it’s nothing but refreshing.”

By this point your face feels like a hot tamale and you have to look everywhere else except at Tom, who’s just said the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. Knowing that your little crush definitely wasn’t going to go anywhere, you look back in the mirror only to see Harrison sporting a shit-eating grin on his face, and Tom blushing like mad.

“Well then boys, if you like it so much, turn it back up.”

From that on, you spent the rest of the drive blasting music, singing, eating really crappy food, and just generally having a nice road trip for the first time in a very long time.

[wasithard]

my self esteem is through the roof right now (thank you @vinylpaperclip​) i’m just gonna post the whole “australian!annabeth” fic here even though i think its wildly out of character based on the fact that annabeth is absolutely a self-insert for myself but who cares!!!!! 

in case it isnt clear footy = football and in this case is referring to the great game of rugby league. i apologise in advance for the ending which is just....a whole lot of cheese. enjoy!

She really did bring a footy jersey all the way with her to England, even though it was going to be seen by exactly zero other people as she watched the game by herself in her room.

But hey, it feels like home, and from the excited text she gets from her brothers in response to the photo she sends them of her in it lets her know that she made them smile, which makes it worth it.

They’re halfway into the first half, Blues up by 2, when her phone dings.

 Dumbass: are you around i’m bored

You: watching the footy you may join me but no talking this is important

Dumbass: if it’s australian football it’s not important but sure

When she opens the door for him a few minutes later Percy squints at her.

“Are you wearing a jersey? Did you bring a jersey all the way here?” He sounds incredulous.

“Gotta support the boys!” She says in reply, turning around and racing back to her bed and her laptop so she doesn’t miss anymore game time.

Annabeth hears Percy shut the door before he joins her, poking her in the side to get her to make room for him on the bed. She shuffles over and he settles in beside her, stretching an arm behind her as she sinks into his side.

“Oh, it’s rugby league. That’s acceptable at least.”

“What did you think I was watching?” She asks him, eyes not leaving the screen.

“I thought you were going to make me sit through your country’s sorry excuse for soccer.”

“You know what, I’m not even going to try and defend us on that one.”

He chuckles, “Good.”

They fall into a silence and Annabeth is wholly focused on the game. She fills Percy in on the importance of this game, the long, intense rivalry of the teams, who her favourite and least favourite players are. For his part, he seems to actually care, or does a good job of pretending.

At half time he raises his eyebrows, “This is actually pretty entertaining.”

“Well duh,” she says, turning to face him, “We’re world number 1s and this is an all-stars match.”

“I don’t know about world number ones,” he says. The smile on his face tells her he’s just trying to rile her up, but she can’t help herself.

“We literally won the World Cup last year.”

“Home ground advantage. Doesn’t count.”

She’s smiling as she shakes her head, “Shut up.”

“Make me.” He says, and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes flick to her lips for the briefest of seconds.

It sends butterflies shooting through her stomach, and she’s suddenly very much aware of all the places he’s touching her. She loves it, this game they’ve been playing for the past couple of weeks, dancing around each other. She only loves it, she thinks, because she knows he feels the same.

There’s no mystery about either of their feelings for each other, the question is only when they’ll crack and act on them.

Not right now, she thinks to herself, I haven’t waited this long for our first kiss not to be romantic.

She grabs a pillow from her other side and whacks his face with it, laughing at the exclamation she gets out of him.

He grabs her and smothers her with it. She manages to blindly locate his armpit and starts tickling him there. Maybe not the most graceful way of getting him off of her, but it works.

“Did you just tickle me?!”

“Yes and if you try to do it back I can’t promise that I won’t draw blood.” She states simply, getting up from the bed and walking to the kitchenette. “Hungry?” She asks.

“Surely you know the answer to that.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling, “I’ve only got snacks. Do you want chips or bread?”

He rolls onto his back, his head hanging off the side of the bed as he watches her, “Will that bread have Vegemite on it?”

“You know it will!” Her voice is cheery from inside a cupboard as she brings out her 1kg tub of Vegemite.

“Have I told you how happy I am that you recognise the sheer deliciousness of Vegemite?” She says, passing him a plate with two slices of Vegemite-lathered bread as she returns to the bed.

“Yes, many times.”

“Well, I’m telling you again. I’m so glad you have taste, unlike everyone else in this country who thinks Marmite is edible.”

“It’s a gift.” He says, grinning through a mouthful of bread. She scrunches her nose in disgust and fetches her laptop from the end of her bed.

“Perfect timing,” she mutters as the game restarts for the second half. They settle into their comfortable silence again, the only sounds the voices of the commentators, their mouths chewing the bread and Annabeth’s occasional gasps and muttered curses.

He takes their plates when they’re done and puts them on the floor next to the bed. They rearrange themselves so that she’s leaning against him again and this time his arm rests around her waist, hand laying on her hip.

It starts as nothing, but at some point his hand finds his way under the thick, blue cotton of her jersey and onto the smooth warmth of her skin underneath.

She hears her own sharp intake of breath and wishes her body wouldn’t be so obvious about the effect Percy has on her. He sounds genuinely worried when he says, “Sorry, should I–”

“No! No, you’re fine.” She says, glancing at him in reassurance, “It’s nice.”

Nice, she thinks, ugh. But she refocuses on the game, his hand a weight burning into her side.

They sit a few more minutes until he rubs his thumb slowly upwards along her stomach, and Annabeth thinks she might die. Involuntarily, she inhales again.

She can hear a small smile in Percy’s voice when he asks, “You ok?”

She doesn’t trust her voice so she nods and hums the affirmative, but her breathing is shallow.

“Ok,” he says, and brings his head down to rest on her shoulder, lips brushing the top of her back. She fights the urge to tense her body in anticipation and instead turns on him. He jerks back in surprise.

“Actually, you’re being distracting. I’m going to need to you stop this until the game is over.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk curling his lips. “I’m distracting am I?”

“Yep,” she says, turning back around, “I already said it, not saying it again.”

“What about what I’m doing is distracting you, ‘Beth?” He asks, bringing his head back down to near her shoulder.

“I’m not talking about this while there’s a game on, unfortunately.”

“Ok I’ll just chill here then.”

“Unfortunately, you can’t do that either.”

“Should I leave then?”

“Nope.”

“Well…”

She huffs in frustration, “Percy!” She turns towards him, mouth open to berate him but the words get stuck in her throat at the way he is positively beaming at her. She hates him for it. She falls a little more in love with him for it.

She exhales, deflating. “Why now?” She asks.

He tilts his head, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she turns her body so that she’s fully facing him now, the game momentarily forgotten. “Why now of all times to be so forward?”

She can see his brain thinking, oh ok so we’re actually talking about this now, as he blinks a few times. “Why not?”

She thinks about spitting some more banter about how she’s in the middle of a very important rugby game and it’s actually quite rude of him to interrupt her with this but decides instead to try and be honest, to let herself be vulnerable. Because if one thing has become clear to her over the months she’s been living in England, is that she can trust this man in front of her. He’s listened to her talk about architecture and Australian politics just as intently as he’s listened to her tell him about her parents and step-family and her attempts to start living a life for herself instead of a life to try and please the people around her.

Her voice is small when she responds. “Why me?” 

She’s staring at him with an openness that scares her a little bit, but she feels a bit better when she sees his entire body soften.

Percy’s gaze searches hers for a moment, the expression on his face as if he’s asking, are you joking? 

He shakes his head a little in disbelief, “Because, Annabeth, how could I know you and not be desperately in love with you?”

A sound falls out of her, like she’s released a weight she’s been holding for years. She hesitates for one last moment before both of her hands reach out and grab his shirt, pulling him close and capturing his lips with hers, because she has to. 

His words are ones she’s been wishing to hear for years, a suggestion of a romance she’s been blindly, naively hoping she’ll find one day. She kisses him with the force of twenty-two years of yearning for someone to see her and love her as she is; she kisses him with the relief of finally finding it.

His arms come around her and hug her closer to him and her hands slide up his chest and around his neck, pulling herself into his lap so that they are flush against each other. She’s not sure how long they’re kissing, but when she eventually pulls back they’re both out of breath. Her hair is hanging around them both like a curtain, enclosing them in their own world where they are totally lost in this moment, in each other. His eyes are sparkling up at her and there’s a beautiful redness to his cheeks that make his eyes shine even brighter. She brings her hands up to cup his face, thumbs tracing his cheeks, and he just stares and stares until she closes the space between them again with one more long, searing kiss. One that she feels deep in her belly.

He rolls them over so they’re lying next to each other on the bed when they break apart again, and she keeps one hand resting on his face as they just look at each other, entranced.

An eruption of cheers from the tinny laptop speakers snaps her out of her daze. She bolts upright and checks the score – it’s full time and the Blues have won the game. She shouts with joy, shuts the laptop and tosses it to the end of the bed before falling back down next to him.

“I guess I’ve won twice today.” She says, shuffling closer so that her nose brushes his.

“Well, congratulations,” He says, “What’s the prize?”

She smiles slowly, her lips taking time to break apart and expose her grinning teeth. His eyes follow the movement, and his soft exhale as her smile grows bigger fills her chest with a golden warmth.

“He’s right here,” is all she says before leaning in again.

[hotchgan]

Stalker

Summery: Aaron has a stalker and the team has to find out who is it.

A/N: I actually don’t really like this but I’ll still post it anyways. I might have some spelling errors in this because I didn’t really proof-read this. Also, sorry for the crappy title,

Taglist: @ellyhotchner @unionjackpillow @eleanorbloom

Warnings: stalking/stalker, character deaths, murder, knife, gun, poison, mention of death,

Aaron walks steps put of the elevator with a frown on his face. It was his day off and Strauss had called him in for some reason. She said it was urgent but he didn't care. He had to miss one of Jack's soccer games. Aaron planned on getting ice cream and apologizing after this is over.

Aaron walks across the building. He sees people state and glance at him. The last time this happened was after Haley died. He looks around, confused, before going into the bullpen.

"It's my day of Strauss, what is it that's so urgent-", Aaron starts saying before he freezes. The team looks at him and then to the bulliten board. Aaron looks like he had just seen a ghost.

On the bulliten board was hundreds of pictures of Aaron. Him coming home from work, taking Jack to the park, and even one of Haley greeting him at their front door for him.

"What .. who did this?" Aaron asks the team. No body said anything for a second.

"We don't know. Garcia came in because she left something and saw this. She called Strauss and she called us in", Derek explains.

"Did you check the security camera's?" Aaron asks as he steps closer to the board. The pictures go back as to seven years ago. Hi come he never noticed that someone was stalking him?

"I checked but someone shut it down for an hour before it came back on", Garcia replies.

"Ok, I want fronseics to dust this for fingerprints or any DNA on here. I also want to know-" Aaron starts ordering his team.

"You're not on this case", Strauss interrupts him. Aaron looks at her.

"What?" Aaron asks.

"Agent Morgan will be leading this investigation. You're the victim and we can't have you working this case", Strauss explains.

"I'm sorry, these pictures go back as to seven years. Maybe even more and you want me off the case?" Aaron asks.

"Yes", Strauss says simply. Aaron was about to say something before his phone rang.

"I- excuse me", Aaron says as he takes the phone call. He steps put of the room and into the hall.

"Jessica, is everything alright?" Aaron asks.

"N-no .. it's dad", Jessica replies. Aaron can tell that she has been crying.

"Roy? Is he ok?" Aaron asks. Jessica chokes out a sob.

"He's- he's dead", Jessica replies.

Aaron watches the the body bag gets taken away from the crime scene that was once Jessica's house. Jessica was in the living room, crying while Jack is sitting next to her silently. The last time Jessica had cried this hard is when Haley died. And like Haley's death, this was his fault too.

"Hotch", JJ says to Aaron. Aaron snaps out of trance and looks at her. He nods and walks over to the living room and sits next to his son.

"Hey buddy, how are feeling?" Aaron asks Jack. The blonde boy shrugs. Aaron sighs and pulls his son into a hug. Jack holds on to his father's shirt tightly and he softly begins to cry. Aaron looks at Jessica who was standing up and leaving the room. Aaron felt a small pang in his heart but ignored it.

Derek then made eye contact with Aaron and gestures to come over there. Aaron nods and tells Jack to let go of him so he can talk to Derek. Jack nods as Aaron grabs a tissue for him. He then walks over to Derek.

"Looks like he was poisoned. Someone drugged his drink", Derek says to Aaron.

"Do you think my stalker killed him?" Aaron asks quietly so no one else would hear.

"I don't know but there is a possibility it might", Derek replies. Aaron then feels guilty of all of this.

"Hey, this isn't your fault", Derek says to Aaron. Aaron doesn't say anything back but stares at the chair where his father in law died in.

"Are you agent Hotchner?" A man ask as he walks up to him.

"Yes, why?" Aaron asks. The man then gives him a letter that is in a plastic bag.

"This is for you. It was left at the crime scene", the man says before leaving. Aaron and Derek both read the letter.

Dear Agent Hotchner,

You probably don't know who I am. That's probably for the best. My life was going perfectly. I had met the perfect women but then you came along. You dragged her into your mess and you killed her. And I vowed for the rest of my life to destroy you. So for the past five years, I have been stalking you and now I will destroy your life. Just remember that this is your fault.

Sincerely, Your Stalker

Aaron gulps silently after reading the letter. Derek looks at him shocked. He then takes the letter from Aaron's hand and gives it back to forensics. Derek tells them to dust for any prints or DNA. Aaron stands there in shock. He did this because of him. It was his fault.

"Hotch, are you alright?" Emily asks as she notices Aaron frozen into place.

"I- .. I don't know", Aaron admits, quietly. Emily looks at him sadly.

"Well, I'm here if you need anything. We'll catch this bastard", Emily says to Aaron.

"We're going back to review what we know. Do you want to come with us?" Emily asks. Aaron looks at her and then at Jessica. They both make eye contact before Jessica looking away.

"I'll come with you", Aaron replies.

Aaron and the team go back to he briefing room to review the case. Strauss doesn't approve but she knows that Aaron can't sir around and do nothing. He also can't stay with Jessica knowing that she probably hates him right now.

Aaron doesn't know what to feel. Roy has been his only father figure that hadn't let him down. But the last time he visited him, he had blames him for Haley's. But he still didn't deserve to die. Roy was the loudest person to cheer when Aaron had graduated from highschool. He was the one who help Aaron pick out a suit for his wedding. Roy was there for Aaron and now he's gone.

“Hotch ... Aaron”

Aaron looks up to see Emily standing in front of him. She has a worried look on her face. Something that he has seen too often now.

“Are you alright? You don’t look so good”, Emily asks him.

“I uh I’m actually going to go outside .. to clear my head”, Aaron says to Emily. She nods as Aaron walks back outside.

Aaron goes outside and opens his car. He sits inside and waits. He’s not sure what for. Maybe for the shock of his father in law’s death to go away. Maybe for Jessica to call him and tell him that everything will be ok. Maybe for this horrible nightmare to end. The shock does go away. Aaron remembers the five stages of grief. Denial was the stage Aaron was in. Denial then anger. It didn’t take long Aaron to get angry.

Aaron chokes out a sob as tears flow down from his eyes. He’s angry. He angry how everyone that hates him always goes after his family. He is angry at the world. He’s angry at himself. Aaron grips on the steering wheel. The first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to do. The team is already trying to solve the case, Jessica is with Jack and they probably hate him right now. He is alone.

“Well that was a fun show to watch”

Aaron’s head snaps up as he sees someone in the back seat, holding a gun. Aaron freezes, unsure of what to do. The man behind him presses his gun to Aaron’s back and leans in to whisper in his ear.

“Drive”

Aaron starts the car and drives. He can still feel the gun presses up against him.

“Drive to Jessica’s house”

Aaron nods. He drives but not to Jessica’s house. He can’t put her in danger. Not everything he has done to her. She doesn’t deserve to die. He does. Jack will be better off with her, anyways.

“Hey, that isn’t the way”

Aaron doesn’t listen and continues driving to somewhere far away from Jessica.

“Hey! Stop the car!”

Aaron stops the car. He looks at the mirror to see the man behind him.

“What the hell do you think your doing?!”

“If you want to kill someone, kill me”, Aaron replies. The man stares at him before laughing.

“Oh you’re not going to get off this easy. I want to destroy your life, just like you did to mine”

“What did I do that destroyed your life?” Aaron asks.

“You got Haley killed”

Aaron doesn’t say anything back. It was him. The guy who called Haley. The guy Haley cheated him in with. The man behind his has dark red hair and light brown eyes. Almost looks like the complete opposite of him.

“I was the love of her life”

Aaron cringes at those words. He remembers the time Haley said that he was the love of her life and that she would never leave him. Aaron knew that Haley died loving him. And the man behind him says that? Aaron wasn’t going to let him get what he wants.

Aaron turns around and grips the gun behind him. He punches the red-head in the face. The man groans in pan and kick Aaron in the face. Aaron gets out of the car and drags the other man out of it too. He then forces the guy to sit up against the car and punches him, repeatedly. The red hair manages to kick Aaron in the stomach, pushing him back. He then goes on top of him and pulls light a knife. He brings it above his head and-

“FBI, put down the knife!”

The man looks around him to see black SUV’s and agents pointing a gun towards him. He slowly puts down the knife and puts his hands up. Aaron sighs in relief as he stands up. He watches as the man who tried to kill him gets cuffed away.

“So did you get my message?” Aaron asks Derek as he walks towards him. He had sent Derek a text message while he was driving in the car.

“The text message you sent me? No, it was just random letters and numbers so I knew there was something wrong with you”, Derek replies.

“Then how did you find me?” Aaron asks.

“I got out the find my friends app and tracked your phone”, Derek replies. Aaron let’s out a small smile.

“Are you ok? It seemed like you and him had a pretty rough fight”, Derek asks.

“I think I’ll be fine”, Aaron replies.

“Aaron!”

Aaron turns around to see Jessica running towards him. Jessica then pulls Aaron into a hug.

“Thank god, you’re ok”, Jessica says as she hugs Aaron, tightly.

“Jessica! How did you get here?” Aaron asks her as he wraps his arms tightly around her.

“Rossi called me that you were missing so I went into his car to help them find you”, Jessica explains.

“What about Jack?” Aaron asks.

“He’s with his cousins”, Jessica replies.

“I’m so glad you’re ok. I can’t lose you too”, Jessica says. Aaron smiles softly and hugs her. He has a family. A family that cares about him and loves him no matter what happens.

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

okay here me out but high school!spn would be hilarious because, y'know, there's the 3 winchester (yes adam is there) and horrible dad john winchester. obivously, mary is dead which is why john in horrible.

BUT, other than the winchesters, there's also the angels, which everyone is also deadass confused about because they're's like 30 of them?? and apparently they're all related, all adopted by birth except the 4 eldest. and the very oldest, michael, raises them, which nobody knows if it's legal or not, but everybody's too afraid to say something.

And, of course, they're's the demons, who are like a bunch of kids who live at an orphanage and hate the angels.

okay that was long and really just me rambling

what i heard was “the angels are like the cullens” and michael is like. very fuck you to any high schooler who brings it up.

also, Michael either looks JUST like that Adam kid OR he looks like apocalypse!michael because that guy was cute and i liked him

OK BUT. HEAR ME OUT.

Mary is NOT dead, but she and John are divorced because John had an affair with Kate Milligan (Adam’s mom) and neither woman knew about the other until Adam’s like. Five or something?

At first Mary and Kate HATE each other, look at that Scheming Conniving Whore who is the Reason I Can’t Have My Man, but then they realize it’s JOHN’S FAULT, and they should unite against the Common Enemy. John has no idea. So the divorce goes through and he’s like, hey Kate can I come stay with you and Adam :) and Kate’s all, actually, you can get fucked, I’m taking my friend out for a celebratory drink, her divorce got finalized.

They’re each a margarita into the night when Mary goes “this is like a date! hah ha just kidding! unless...?”

IT’S NOT A JOKE THEY DATE AND GET MARRIED/CIVIL UNIONED/PARTNERED/SUE THE STATE OF KANSAS and John is just sitting over there, a jackass.

Kate’s a nurse, so she can pretty much support the family because Mary wants to go back to school! And get advanced degrees in like. Mythology or folklore. Idk if Mary went to college in canon? Anyway she’s a farm girl, (for some reason in my head “a family of monster hunters” translates to normal universe as “family farm” idk idk) so maybe she gets some fancy agriculture degrees or becomes a conservationist (Sam being a National Parks nerd??? yes please. he’d sit and help Mary study and he’s been known to hijack tours from Park Rangers but he’s so earnest it’s hard to be mad at him)

they have a crazy amazing garden (adhd!dean helping his mom in the garden??? yes). Mary teaching self-defense classes! Kate teaching the boys advanced first aid! And regretting it! No, Dean, just because you CAN sew up your brother’s wound doesn’t mean you should! 

Dean trying to teach Adam and Sam to shave because “i’m the man of the family” and Kate saying “oh sweetie, I’m the man of the family. you get to be a kid of the family, ok?” because let Dean be a child, please, and also, now none of these children understand gender and it’s WONDERFUL. (Adam is the only full time he/him in the house and as much as Dean protects his little brothers, Adam has been known to punch a transphobe or two.

Adam: it’s called DIRECT ACTION, Principal Amara!)

I want to say there’s still a house fire when Sammy’s a baby, but obvs Mary doesn’t die, she just has severe burns? (makes John cheating even MORE of a douche thing but idk) anyway this plus Kate being a nurse, I could see Adam being into physical therapy or counseling or something when he gets older?

also random thought but Mary and Kate host the BEST halloween parties. they go all out. Their best costume so far is Harley/Ivy.

I KEEP FORGETTING WHERE I’M GOING WITH THIS

This means Mary’s the one who knows Bobby (and his husband Rufus) via hunting and Gay Advocacy and their extensive collection of rare texts that are tangentially related to Mary’s work somehow

Mary and Kate become big advocates for legalization of sex work.

the Angel Kids family are from a SUPER religious upbringing. obviously. probably. more like a cult honestly. Cas and Anna straight-up ran away when they were 13 ish. They MIGHT have convinced their dad to sign some papers when he was drunk which is how they were able to get emancipated. Sort of?

They track down their older brother Gabe, who left the family as soon as he was old enough to strike out on his own, but once Anna and Cas leave, all their other siblings sort of come trailing after them (Balthazar first) to find them and take care of them, so Gabe all of the sudden goes from livin the single life to co-parenting twenty siblings with his OTHER siblings, who he can’t STAND and he somehow became the Rules Parent because Luci isn’t going to enforce shit! That asshole! When Uriel finally gets out Gabe is like thank fuck I’m leaving now. When Michael finally gets to them, Gabe is in Shock. “Holy fuck, what did dad DO that was bad enough to make YOU leave?? dude???”

(I want Gabe and the Archangel Brigade to be in their late 20s/early 30s when Cas and Co. are in high school because Gabe absolutely works in porn. Michael gets all self-righteous with him and Gabe glares. “First of all. This is my house, so, you know, fuck off. Second of all, are you going to support this family? No? Yes? With what? the last job you had was CO-LEADING A CULT.” Uriel is working as an electrician while taking meteorology courses.)

who is in charge of the Demon Kids? Rowena or Lilith, maybe? or CAIN. CAIN!!!

The Harvelles absolutely make an appearance. I’m tempted to say that Mary and Kate look at Ellen and go “her. we want her” and it’s a band of badass women and their badass children.

it’s VERY important to me that Dean is a theatre nerd. VERY IMPORTANT. He and Sam might play basketball just because of their height, but I don’t know that they enjoy it that much. Sam’s more of a lacrosse or soccer guy. Adam’s into hockey (little rage monsters that they are) 

idk it depends on ships that you want? Because high school age Crowley being Dean’s Bad Boy Boyfriend is pretty primo comedy, imo, and you would work in the Leviathans as a rival high school or even as new kids? And of course Michael/Adam Sam/Lucifer don’t work in a hs au with the archangels aged up the way I have? You could have the Older Sibling Angels Be Gabe, Balthazar, and Naomi, with Naomi being the one leaves last, who was helping Chuck with his cult (which leaves more room for Michael to be a himbo)

for the record I’m not OPPOSED to a John is a Good Dad AU. I just like AUs where I can Unfridge All the Women

WOW i had a lot of feelings about this. oops. 

[hwanuels]

n.jm: where were you?

summary: y/n does not know what the fuck is going on half of the time. 

pairing: highschool!fboi!jaemin x fem!reader

warning: a lot of cursing, drug usage reference, crackheadness, maybe a lot of grammer error. this is my first bullet-scenario au so yeah. also! this a collab with the lovely @huangsren in out nct dreamies alternate universe teehee. she has a lovely, fluffy renjun one up so go read it!

part two!

you okay let’s get this collab with @huangsren 

so at NCT High if you don't know Na Jaemin who the hell are you? like everyone knows this kid from lunch ladies to the freaking janitors 

its not a surprise since the dude is literally dead drop gorgeous and has a shit ton of social skills. like the boy deadass can swindle his way out of detention (which he did) with just a wink 

typical fboi but instead of it being a huge turn-off, girls still throw themselves on him even when he WARNS them beforehand that he isn't looking for a serious thing

still, they get attached and heartbroken when he tells them “this isn’t working out” 

his friends (aka art-hoe!renjun and student-athlete!jeno) always rolls their eyes when jaemin rolls up into the lunchroom with his arms wrapped around a new girl’s shoulder

“bet she’s not going to last two weeks”- renjun slapping down a 10$ 

“knowing him, this isn’t going to last more than a week”- jeno said but still sliding over a 10$ bill 

AND SUPRISE it doesn’t 

both renjun and jeno don’t approve of his philandering, but they stick w jaemin cause he’s still their best bud cause bros before hoes ya know what i mean?

this is especially true with jeno cause they’ve been bffl since they were like five but that doesn’t mean that jaemin is anything like jeno. 

nah man they both are the complete opposite of each other

like jeno is a quiet reserved student-athlete boi but jaemin out here acting like a little thotty 

nomin is like a package deal, no one can separate them

here where out little y/n comes in

surprisingly you’re childhood friends w nomin 

both u and jeno are neighbors and your families have been friends since before you were even conceived 

your moms’ have weekly tea times where they’d gossip about everything and anything while your dads would be watching the weekly soccer/football games drinking a cold one 

you and jeno would be playing with some legos or barbies 

jeno had a minor (major) barbie obsession which was probably induced by you

don’t tell anyone but jeno still binge-watches barbie movies;;;his favorite really be the princess charm school one 

like i said nomin is a package deal so expect jaemin to be taging along to yours and jeno’s weekly playdate

imagine you being the princess while jaemin pretended to be the prince and jeno was the dragon,,,yeah man it was so lit 

this isn’t a jeno fic btw keep in mind its still jaemin 

all of that stuff before was when the three of you were like kids

once highschool came around all three of you found ur niches: jeno was the student-athlete, jaemin was well that guy that was wanted by all the girls

and you were just a regular mundane student ya know,,,you weren’t extremely talented nor smart you just floated around 

u still hung around jeno tho but your friendship was really lowkey 

like both of y'all would wait until the other one was completely alone or do some ridiculous actions to deliver the simplest messages 

jeno would look both ways before slipping you a note in class that said “can your mom drive me home today?” and you would make sure no one was looking before nodding secretly 

or the two of you would hide behind bushes to say that y'all parents wanted to have dinner together tonight 

tbh yall could just text each other but where’s the fUN in that? 

jaemin, on the other hand, was someone you haven’t a solid conversation with since sophomore year bc of an incident 

basically, you had helped one of your friends into a relationship with jaemin that lasted for about two months,,, which was considerably a long time considering that it was jaemin.the two of them were a fat power couple 

ur friend, let’s call her ella, was probably one of the more popular girls at school. she was well-known for being the prettiest, kindest girl that everyone LOVES

anyways, things didn’t end so well bc he stood her up at hoco even though he was gonna be crowned homecoming king and her queen. 

no one knows why jaemin just ditched but he did. 

didn’t stick well with your friend tho cause she stopped talking to you as well not really giving you an explanation

and this led to everyone in your friend group to kinda put all the blame onto you 

this is also when jaemin picked up his heartbreaker reputation and began living up to that title

at first ur were hella mad and sad, but you got over it cause being outcasted and kicked out of that friend group led you to befriend the local stoner boi!haechan

honestly, you got over it but after ignoring and avoiding jaemin for a whole year it just stuck. 

yall never talked again 

here comes SENIOR YEARS BITS 

u were so done w school at this point, you had suffered and labored through junior year,,, SAT and ACT were the biggest bitches you ever faced in your lifetime and this is coming from someone who was friends with the resident shithead lee haechan 

so it’s lunchtime and you’re listening to haechan’s wild story about some shenanigan that he and his weed dealer/ older college friend mark had gotten up to the past weekend 

“so like we were just hitting a blunt this weekend in mark’s car and this cop pulls up next to us.mark rolls down the window and all of the smoke just hits the cops in the face” 

“you're a fucking idiot, haechan” 

“listen bitch, i’m not done” 

“so the cop is doing the regular illegal drugs bullshit and asked mark a question. understand at this point that mark is high as fuck so i kid you not the crackhead says quack. nothing else just quack. honestly, i still don’t know how we got out of that but we did and lee haechan is still in school.” 

you want to slap your friend with a big smh at this point 

but it so ridiculous and so haechan that you can’t say anything else 

and you don’t have too! bc someone taps ur shoulder pulling you out of your convo and boom it’s ella 

“hey, y/n” she starts out sweetly and you could feel haechan’s bitch face directed towards the girl, who seemed to just ignore the boy 

“what’s up, ella?” you were hella fucking slightly irritated and highkey suspicious bc like this was the first time that she talked to you in like two years

“this out of the blue, but you know how prom is coming up soon? we need extra hands on the planning community,” ella explained with a bright smile  “we need another person to work on making the centerpieces for each table, but we only have one person on that” 

“okay, so what does this have to do with her?” haechan’s bitchy tone soaked in each word 

ella’s smile faltered slightly at his words, but it was so subtle that only people with keen eyes could notice

“i hope that i’m not imposing anything on to you.” ella trying to reassure  “but Mr. Moon told me that you still need some community service hours for our graduation requirement so I just assumed that this would be a good opportunity for you.” 

oh shit 

you completely forgot about that and you still needed like another 10 hours to complete

“ummmm” 

“i wouldn’t ask you this but my workload is completely swamped” ella added “it would be a big help if you can help. haechan, you can help too!” 

haechan let out a loud gag that seemed to baffle her 

“oh hell no, i already got my community service hours done like freshmen year.” 

you gave haechan the most incredulous face you could make cause like this druggie who gets high every other week and vapes in the bathroom really finished his community service hours before you????how?? 

“don’t look at me like that.” haechan kicked you underneath the table “it was before i learned how to roll a blunt” 

“drugs aren’t good for you, haechan,” ella chided 

haechan made a mocking face,,you know the one he does like that one,,”not all of us can be little miss goodie-two-shoes like you” 

oKAy time to do some damage control before your shithead friend gets himself into more shit 

“i’ll do it. just text me the details.” 

“thank you so much y/n!” ella said before bouncing off 

“i hate her” haechan stated

“you hate everyone” 

CUE aFTerschool when you follow ella’s text to go to the art building where everyone was gathered 

the minute you walked in you realized that you should have just said no and done some other community service activity cause jaemin was present standing in the corner and other people who you once called your close friends that turned out to be fat snakes

now you gotta deal with them again (aww shit here we go again) 

ella is motioning you to come into the classroom which you obliged cause you figured that you possibly could survive w ur rbf on as you made your way to the other unoccupied corner

there was some whispering in the background but you ignored it cUASE like hyuk always says: “you just gotta get high and block out all the haters” 

well, he was right about the second half, not so much the first. 

“alright everyone! thank you so much for volunteering to help set up for our senior prom! we only have about three weeks so we have to get all of the decorations done as soon as possible!” ella said in a chirpy tone

a lot of people looked motived by the girl’s bubby short speech on how everyone needs to put in 100% of their effort. you zoned that out as you caught the sleeping figure at the teacher's desk 

“goddamn you mr.moon forcing me to be here” you grumbled in your head almost missing your assigned duty, 

“y/n!” your head snapped in the direction that your name was called 

you saw ella standing with jaemin and the sirens go off in your head 

FUCK THIS

you let out a loud sigh before trotting over to the two 

ella gave you a piece of paper that had the centerpieces’ picture on them along with a long list of decorations “all you guys have to do is make about 300. all the directions are on the sheet and the supplies are in the other room. it’s really simple, just have it done by next friday.” 

you nearly popped a blood vessel 

300 by next friday? today was wednesday so that meant you only had ten days to finish all 300 of them

so you and jaemin are walking to the classroom next door to get the supplies y’all needed,,, in your head, you were just cursing everything in existence for putting you into this position especially mr. moon 

“so how did she rope you into this?” you heard jaemin say from beside you as you both carried boxes out to the parking lot. 

you two came to the good conclusion to split the load so that he would do half and you would do half 

150 it’s not that bad 

15 a day

hell yeah

it was so strange and foreign talking to him since it’s been about two whole years.  

he had a nice voice tho ngl maybe that’s why he got out of that detention that one time 

“she somehow found out that i still needed to complete my community service hours before graduation” you murmured, praying that haechan remembered you telling him to wait for you after school 

he probably ditched you to get high or hang out with one girl he liked

all jaemin said was “oh” and the rest of the walk to the school’s parking lot was quiet 

the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife and the knife would break

“hey can i ask you a question?” jaemin asked when the two of you were about to go your separate ways 

you could see mark’s old beat-down car meaning that haechan, in fact, did ditch you but had the decency to call up mark to pick you up 

“yeah, go ahead” 

“how come you still talk to jeno, but not me?” 

i shit you not this was the quietest and deepest voice that you ever heard jaemin project 

you didn’t know how to reply so you looked down at the large box in your hand, mumbling some incoherent excuse

“can you repeat that?” 

“ i said, we don’t really have any other reasons to be friend's unlike me and jeno” 

“is that all?” jaemin asked, probably catching onto your bullshit

you were probably delusional but you could’ve sworn you heard some sadness in the tone he used

you nodded quickly trying to get to mark’s car hoping to avoid further conversation 

but boy was jaemin stubborn 

“that wasn’t a good explanation,y/n! ” jaemin called out after you. 

this time he sounded more lighthearted than before

you turn around to face jaemin who had a fatass smile on his face 

damn was he good looking smiling like that 

“give me a better reason tomorrow or else i’m taking you on a date!” his dazzling smile nearly blinding you as he made his way to his own car

inside your head little y/n is going whattheactualfuck? 

“what’s with that shook face?” mark ask as you climbed into the passenger seat 

“what the fuck?” you say 

“huh?”

you look at mark “what the ACTUAL fuck?” 

poor mark is like wtf is wrong with her,,,did haechan get her on some type of crack? 

that night while you were making the little centerpieces you were still going over what jaemin said 

you looked at the last centerpiece you finish making 

was he flirting with me? or was he serious?

he sounded sad when i said that tho? 

at the same, this was jaemin, a boy who is well-known for having flings left and right. 

he’s probably just flirting

until next day! jaemin pops up next to you as while you get your shit from your locker for your first class 

“did you come up with a good explanation yet? 

his sudden appearance startled you causing you to subconsciously let out a yelp 

“cute” he said, and you forced down the blush that was about to show 

“i thought i told you already?” causing jaemin to shake his head like a cute little puppy 

“i don’t accept it.i want a better one,” he said sounding like a spoiled toddler 

you gave him the “wtf do you mean look” and he was about to reply until you saw haechan walking through the school doors with a pair of sunglasses on which can only mean one thing

that little shit head came to school high again

you pushed passed jaemin and stormed towards haechan pulling him to some vacant hallway to lecture him

leaving jaemin standing there staring at your backs as the two of you left 

jaemin’s smile dropping significantly as he nearly glared over at the two of you leaving, specifically at the back of haechan’s head 

“dude, why do you look like you’re going to murder someone?” jeno asked as jaemin sat next to him at their lab station 

you weren’t in this chemistry class but haechan was,,,and it was his naptime

“how is y/n friends with him?” jaemin stared directly at a sleeping haechan 

jeno follows his line of sight, letting out a sigh once he notices it was haehcan

“she never really told me, but i assume it was because she stopped being friends with ella and that group” jeno said honestly. he raised an eyebrow in question at his bffl “why do you need to know” 

jaemin didn’t answer him, continuing to glaring at the sleeping male 

jeno rolled his eyes at his friend's antics 

but in a serious tone, he warns to his friend, “don’t pull your games with y/n.” 

except jaemin’s head wasn’t registering this warning,,he was solely focused on how lee fucking haechan the biggest stoner of NCT High managed to take a girl’s attention from him, na jaemin....it was simply ridiculous 

maybe he really was an attention seeker bc he made a beeline for your table during lunch instead of his regular one once he saw just how loud you were laughing at haechan’s joke 

“what’s so funny?” jaemin asked sliding into the seat next to you 

now both of you and our boy hyuk is like wtf 

immediately you’re on defense, “what are you doing here?” 

“you never gave me a good explanation!” jaemin pouted, giving you fat puppy eyes 

those aLMost worked 

“uhhhhhh” you try to find a good excuse but jaemin quickly cuts you off 

“it’s okay if you don’t have a good explanation,” jaemin reaches over and steals a fry from haechan’s tray eliciting a hissing sound from the boy “you just have to go on a date with me” 

then he winks 

and he's gone

“what in the holy fuck just happened?” 

the amount of time that y/n has said wtf is unbelievable 

haechan’s sunglasses slip down the bridge of nose and you could see his red eyes giving you a look of disappointment, “and you say i have issues” 

“stfu before i slit your throat” 

the rest of the day wasn’t any easier on you tbh. you learned that jaemin was really really stubborn and very very clingy 

the boy deadass scanned the whole hallway to find your face so he could tag along with you to your next class even though you could have sworn that his class was one the other side of the school 

he kept on bombarding you with questions on what you wanted to get after school and if you like roller skating 

by some means, you were able to hide in the library for the rest of the study hall period which meant that you could probably avoid jaemin until school ended 

you spotted a familiar boy huddled in the corner reading a book that made you squint your eyes. 

marching over to jeno, your eyes just say “explain” 

jeno looked at you with like those wide eyes he does when he’s shookth bc the two of you never interacting in school so puBlicly

“what the hell is na jaemin trying to pull?” you whispered-yelled plopping down in the wooden seat next to the athlete 

jeno is all like????wydm 

and you explain your whole situation to him and he just lets out the biggest sigh 

“he doesn’t like being left on read” 

“what do you mean?” 

“i mean, that’s what you basically did to him sophomore year. he was kinda depresso about how you just stopped talking to him out of nowhere. by the way, why did you do that?” 

tbh you really didn’t know at first you were mad at him

was it bc his actions caused all your friends to blame you for his inability to commit to a relationship,,, but it’s been two years since that incident

you got over it, so why were you still avoiding jaemin? 

“i dunno after him and ella broke up, i didn’t have a reason to talk to him.” 

jeno looked at you like “really? is that your answer?” 

“think about that question again because i’m sure that that's, not the whole answer.” 

now you’re more confused but also very mad about how both of them weren’t accepting your reason as valid! 

so as you were furiously making the stupid centerpieces that ella forced you into volunteering to do

angry y/n really got through a solid 50 of them 

you pondered on jeno’s words and you thought back to sophomore year 

you remembered still joking around lightheartedly w jaemin until he started dating ella 

he actually spent a lot of time and effort even ditching jeno sometimes for her which was okay cause jeno would chill w renjun or even you (mostly bc he could watch barbie movies w no shame) 

everything was alright until homecoming came around and jaemin flaked on ella leading them to breakup the next day 

and ella to stop talking to you which made everyone mad you or think that you were the one that caused the breakup 

WHICH YOU DIDN”T 

you were the one that hooked the two of them up too! so it was really unfair! 

it's like 2 am and you don’t know what came over to text jeno but you did 

y/n: why didn’t jaemin go to hoco sophomore year? 

you felt instant regret after sending that text bc like it probably made it seem like you were interested in jaemin,,,, which you were totally not!

seconds later jeno slaps you with the ”ask him yourself”  

fattest facepalm 

so that’s how you spent the entire night finishing all of your centerpieces that you were assigned to make cuz of your frustration

wow we love a productive y/n 

alrighty this is where shit goes down 

now that you were done with all of your centerpieces you took them to the art room the next day before school where ella was there doing her stoof 

she looked up with a giant smile when you came in with a giant box 

“you finished all of it?” 

“nah just 150. jaemins finishing the other half” you set the box down 

“oh okie,” ella nodded returning to whatever she was doing beforehand 

since it was just the two of you in the classroom and you’ve been dying to know the answer since sophomore year 

so fuck it 

“hey ella, can i ask you a question?” 

the said girl looked up with that same friendly smile that she gave everyone “of course!” 

“why didn’t jaemin show up to hoco sophomore year?” you blurted out 

in an instant, ella’s smile dropped and there was a sudden cold look in her eyes 

“you already know the answer to that, y/n, you don’t need me to answer you. now if you excuse me, i have things i have to do” ella said in a very unlike-ella-way 

her answer made you even more confused than ever bc how were you supposed to know the answer to THAT 

confused!y/n is even more confused 

however, all your questions were about to be answered, not really tho 

you’re on your way to the third period with the same burning question in your head: why the hell did jaemin not show up to sophomore year hoco??? someone help?  

tbh you didn’t even notice someone yanking you into the janitor’s closet until you were surrounded in darkness and someone's hands were clasp over your mouth 

“it’s me, jaemin” his soft whisper sent tings down your spine 

he let go of your mouth to switch on the light 

“are you fucking insane?” 

“yes, but it’s only cause i’m madly in love with you” 

you rolled your eyes “cut the bullshit, jaemin, what do you want?” 

“our date. you never gave me a solid explanation, so i want a date” 

you were about to reject him but then an idea formed in your head 

“fine” 

and with that one-word jaemin’s eyes glowed 10x brighter with his smile almost blinding you 

cheesy i know. 

“let’s go now!” 

the boy was really about to skip class just to go on this stupid date w you 

is he that bored? did he really run out of girls to date? 

but then again you really don’t want to go to math bc you’re pretty sure there's a test today that you haven’t studied for yet 

so that’s how you found yourself with jaemin at the local ice cream parlor 

jaemin INSISTED that y'all share a sundae, which he also fought you to pay for 

there a silence that falls upon you for a little bit 

jaemin breaks it though like he breaks heart (okay minnie that’s kinda mean) 

“ella told me that you finished your half of the centerpieces in two days. that’s pretty impressive,” he comments 

you nodded staring at the ice cream drowned in chocolate syrup 

“to be honest, i haven’t gotten much done yet,” he admitted, continuing to ramble on “it’ll get done. i might even pay renjun to do it, but i’m pretty sure he’s too preoccupied with this girl that he’s been pining over for a while” 

“speaking of which, are you seeing anyone right now?” jaemin asks out of nowhere. 

“lol i could be doing other things with my time.” 

jaemin observes your face closely taking in the faint blush on your cheeks from his direct gaze, “so what about that haechan dude?” 

“what about him?” 

“are the two of you a thing?” 

you nearly gagged 

“there no way in hell i’d ever get with haechan. besides, he’s having some of his own girl problems right now. he was being a little bitch about it too” 

“good” jaemin says really contently. 

“why didn’t you go to hoco sophomore year?” you finally asked

taken back slightly, jaemin softly smiles down at the half-eaten sundae

instead of answering you, he asked another question “why did you stop talking to me?” 

you gulp, but eventually, you had to tell him the truth even though it was kinda dumb and immature

“because ella was mad at me after the two of you broke up.” 

he shifted his gaze up to your own eyes 

“do you know why she was mad at you?” 

you shook your head

jaemin smiled again 

this time it kinda looked sad :( 

“because she knew that i was in love with you”  

[tom-holland-stuff]

The Exchange

chapter one

my masterlist

summery: Y/n gets the opportunity to study abroad in her last year of schooling. What will happen when she finds that her host family is related to the one and only spider man.

A/N: ok so here is chapter one. i only quickly checked it cause i really wanted to post it and i finished it literally just then so i hope you enjoy. 

let me know if you want to be tagged x.

warnings: none

word count: 1.1K

I try to stay positive while on planes cause you know, you’re only in a tube made of metal that is hurtling through the sky thousands of feet above the ground (wow have you ever met someone who loves to travel but hates flying haha…. Me). But anyway, it’s hard to stay positive when there are small children constantly crying and kicking your seat. How do kids have so much energy? I can bearly get myself out of bed in the morning.

Exiting the plane is a blur as all I can think about is the exciting experience that lays ahead. Before I departed I was given information about the family that I was going to be living with. From what I can remember they are a large family, 4 boys to be exact, but not all of them live at home. They have one boy close who still attends school but he is a bit younger than me. I think his name was Patty? Paddy? No it was definitely Paddy.

I’m brought out of my thoughts by a female voice coming over the comms in forming passengers that our luggage pick up is at number 4. I quickly brush past people in an order to make my way to collect my bags before that area becomes over crowded. I than make my way of to the information desk closest to gate where I shall meet one of the few exchange organisers.

as I approach the desk I notice a young lady wearing a bright orange t-shirt holding a sign saying ‘International Student Exchange’. I make my way towards the lady. “Hi are you an international student?” She asks me. I reply with a “yes I am” and then she proceeds to point me in the direction of another young women who seems to be holding a list. The lady informs me that I will get my name marked off and then I will be escorted with some other students towards the pick up area, where the host families will be waiting for us.

As we begin to walk towards the exit of the airport butterfly start to form in my stomach. As soon as I walk through these doors I will meet the family that I will have to live with for the next 6 months of my life.

We walk through the doors and the airport is buzzing with life (and this is only the entrance and exit) we are ushered towards a small area near one of the main exits. just in front of the door I see a bunch of people waiting and talking. They must be the host families. The lady who escorted a bunch of us begins to talk to the people waiting and informs them that she will read out the name of the student and the family, they must sign a form and grab a schedule and then they are free to leave. “Callie Turner, Williams family” she begins. I few more names and family are called before I hear “Y/N L/N, Holland family”. I step forward to see an older women with red hair and two boys one is a bit taller than the lady and the other one is much shorter. “Hi you must be Charlie” the older women goes for a hug, to my surprise. “Yes! And you must be/ Nikki” she cuts me off as I return the hug. We break apart and she turns to the two boys “ This is one of why second youngest, Sam.” She states as she point towards the taller boy. “Hi” he says in a soft voice as he extends his hand for me to shake. I politely reach out and shake his hand and whisper a “hi”. “And this is paddy” Nikki States as she points to the shorter boy. I go to shake my hand and say “ hi” but I’m met with a strong and enthusiastic shake. “Hi, y/n, its going to be so exciting going to school with you. Even though we are going to be in seperate year groups, I get to be that one kid who can say ‘ I have that older exchange friend form Australia who rides kangaroos to school’” he states. I can’t help but laugh at the energetic boy.

After I grab my schedule we begin to make our way to wards the car park, but not before the two boys offer to help me with my bags. As we head towards the car park Nikki begins to inform me of the rest of the family. “So you’ve met Sam and Paddy now, but I do have two other boys. The eldest being Thomas and the Harry who is Sam’s twin”. “I’m the better one” sam quickly jumps in which makes me laugh. Hhmmm one of those names sounds familiar but I can’t seem to think of where I would know it, but then again Thomas is a popular name so it could literally be anyone. “ sure..” Nikki roles her eyes at her son “ the other too are away at the moment, but they actually get back the day that school goes back” Nikki explains to me earning a groan from paddy.

We all pile into the car and begin the journey to my new home. Through out the car ride paddy goes on to tell me all the fun things that his school has to offer, such as; dance, drama and music programs. Football (or as Australians call it, soccer), swimming and other sport teams. One thing is for sure, I’m definitely am never going to be bored. “ so a house full of boys?” I ask Nikki as she drives. “Yes” she laughs “I love em to death but there is sometimes too much testosterone in the house. It will be good to have a girl in the house” she explains.

We pull up a driveway in front of a lovely two story house in the suburban area of South West London. we all jump out of the car and begin to unload my bags and make our way towards the entrance of the house. The house isn’t modern but it doesn’t look old either. Decorated with various plants I can tell that this home has housed the family fo quite some time. Nikki opens the front door and we enter the house. once I’ve entered I here a pitter patter of small feet…. Wait, no PAWS. OMFG THEY HAVE A DOG. I turn around to see a staff heading straight towards the group of us. The dog jumps up onto me and almost knocks me over but I quickly regain me balance. “And this is Tessa” Sam says as he points his hand towards the puppy. “ oh my god she is too cute” I say as she bends down and scratch her ears.

This is differently going to be the best 6 months. EVER.

A/N: i promise Tom will enter in the next chapter. let me know if you have requests or want to be tagged x.

The Exchange Tags:

@eridanuswave

[samgraca]

( DANIELA RUAH + FEMALE ) —  Have you seen SAMANTHA GRACA ? This THIRTY-SEVEN year old is a PROFESSOR OF HISTORY AT NYU who resides in MANHATTAN. SHE has been living in NYC for A MONTH (LEFT INITIALLY WHEN THEY WERE SIXTEEN), and is known to be EARNEST and CHARISMATIC, but can also be ABRASIVE and UNFORGIVING, if you cross them.  People tend to associate them with INK STAINED HANDS and BOXING GLOVES CHUCKED CARELESSLY ON HER DESK — @codstarters​

Trigger warnings: death, murder, violence, sickness, ptsd

PAST

The Smith family were as normal as the name itself. Mia Grace and William Smith seemed like a match made in heaven. Both from rich families (hers being based primarily in England), with personalities that balanced each other out. Once the children came along, they were the quintessential American family.

Unlike many families it hadn’t felt like a facade. Despite their many roles, both Mia and William were heavily involved in the lives of their daughter. WHether it was going to Sam’s soccer games or little Madeline’s dance rehearsals. They were always there.

Sam (called Samantha only by her parents) was the oldest daughter by eight years. She always had been a little combative, a difficult child per say. Too much energy her teachers used to say. Even so, she was sweet and kind and her anger was always in defense of somebody else. Usually Madeline.

While she loved both her parents, she was always a dad’s girl. She wanted nothing more than to become a big time soccer player like him and then coach afterwards.

Then she turned sixteen and a few days afterwards, everything fell apart.

For the six months beforehand, New York had been shook by a series of murders. Young girls, twenty-two of them. Every female in the city was scared and for good reason. Sam’s parents had even refused to allow her out at night until the man was caught.

Ironic, considering that a few days after her birthdays, a couple of detectives came to the house and arrested William Smith for the murders. Even just over two decades later, the memory of the police pulling him away, her mother sobbing and asking what the hell could have been going on, remains burned in her memory.

One should never think that things couldn’t get worse because just when Sam thought it couldn’t, it did. On the day of his trial, William Novak disappeared. No one is exactly sure how, just that he went into the police van but when it got to the courthouse, he was gone. It was almost like a magic trick. 

Oh the city kicked into gear again and both Mia and Sam were interrogated what felt like constantly, detectives and agents desperate to find the man that had terrorised the city for what felt an age. After six months, he was still in the wind.

After that, the family was public enemy number one. The house was vandalized, the family excluded from every social event and on one horrific occasion, Mia was attacked on the way home. She was okay, but it was the last straw. How could they stay in a city that hated them, that would not soon forget such hate? Already Sam was skipping classes to stand outside Madeline’s class and lunch area, determined to not let anyone get to her or say anything at all that might scare her. So, with nothing left to lose, Mia packed up her life and her daughters and moved them all back to her home in London.

From there, Mia was determined to forget New York and for her daughters to do the same. They changed their last names back to Mia’s maiden name and endeavoured to pretend that it never happened. For little Madeline, who wasn’t quite old enough to understand the intricacies of what was going on, it was easier. For their mother and Sam however? It was not the same.

Sam pulled away from the world. She was angry and people made it worse. Madeline was the only one who didn’t receive her anger. Her baby sister still had light in her and she’d be damned if it was lost.

She stopped playing soccer then. Soccer was her and her dad’s thing and she wanted nothing more than to be rid of him. So instead of sport and instead of people, her time was spent studying. It was a distraction and it was a damn good reason to tell people to piss off. Which she did, alot.

It wasn’t until she got to Oxford (her mum cried when she got the acceptance letter) where she started to find a new part of herself. One that William Smith had never met.

Studying Elizabethan  History felt like studying a whole different world. Maybe that's why she fell in love with it. The idea that this world had existed not all that long ago was thrilling. She can’t pinpoint the moment where she decided that this was it. That she wanted to spend her time on Earth talking about Queen Elizabeth and all her intricacies. A far cry of a life in soccer that’s for sure.

Oxford became a version of home to her. She liked being talked about for reasons that she was proud of. For being good at her job, the best even. Despite everything, she had created some sort of life for herself.

Madeline ended up back in the states. That was hard. The longest Sam had ever lasted there, even in San Francisco, was a week. Visits were rare but it was okay right? Oh well if she missed her baby sister more than anything. Maddie was happy and free of the chains that her mum and sister still wore. It was okay.

Until Maddie got sick that is. Then Sam’s world fell apart again. The worst might have been that she couldn’t be there. America was still too much for her. It was embarrassing and it felt  shameful. Her heart wanted to be as close to her baby sister as she could but also couldn’t handle it. Their mum was the same. Let’s not even talk about what William Smith still being out there did to them. What if he heart about his youngest daughter dying and decided to turn up?

Maddie was too young to remember the terror her father caused and reading about it just wasn’t the same.

Despite all hope, two years ago, Maddie still died. It felt wrong. Madeline, the best of the whole family was the one to suffer so badly. Sometimes she wished she could have swapped places with her. Maddie deserved better. Always.

PRESENT

Sam has always bounced between teaching and researching/writing. The past two years however has been spent primarily working on her latest book. This one was on the School of Night and their influence in England and beyond.  

Soon after it was published, two months ago, she was offered a professorship. Now such steady work is hard to come by as an academic and any in their right mind would jump at the chance.

The catch though? It was in America but not only that, it was in New York. Oh, how she had agonised over what to do. It was the perfect opportunity for her but it was New York and New York was the big bad.

Eventually it had been the idea of what Maddie would have wanted that made her take it. She had disappointed her when she had been alive and there was no going back. Maybe this would help. Maybe Maddie would be looking down on her big sister and be proud of her. Sam hoped so.

New York is different then she remembered, parts of it at least. Last time she was here, there were posters of her father everywhere but no longer.

Being Professor Samantha Graca is a lot easier than being Samantha Smith. She tends to spend most of her time at NYU, still unable to bring herself to explore the city, to trust that city but even still. It was progress.

She’s some kind of happy here, sometimes at least.

EXTRA

Sam has a distinctive birthmark in her right eye called the nevus of Otis. It gives the appearance of one of her eyes being black instead of brown. Her little sister used to call it her dead eye.

She has a 1968 Dodge Charger called Billy that she is currently dearly missing. It’s been an absolute ordeal trying to get it shipped from England.

There’s a tremor in her right hand, one that’s been there since everything that happened with her dad. It only tends to start when she’s either really stressed and upset or when anything at all to do with her dad comes up. It’s a good judge of how badly she’s doing to be honest.

[zankivich]

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 6

a/n: Hi. I know no one reads this so not really gonna bother. Like if you liked. Reblog if you care at all. Maybe buy my broke as a ko-fi so I can survive this semester? K bye. 

WARNINGS: Soft smut? 

*Shawn’s point of view*

A night out on the town is exactly what he needed. When his best friend Brian flew to town, it meant to clear his schedule and probably have 911 on speed dial for any ambulance like purposes. With the state of his relationship with his dad at the time, he was in desperate need for things to make sense again. And they weren’t. They just fucking weren’t. Enter Brian.

“Shawn motherfucking mendes! Did you miss me? Tell me you missed me!” His best friend snorted practically hopping into his arms in the middle of JFK

“Not enough to carry your dumb ass,  get the fuck of me!” He chuckled.

“I am so fucking excited to be back in this city man. The pussy is just something different out here, ya know? Now if only my best friend flew me out more than once a year.”

He threw Brian’s bags into the trunk of his car and ignored his best, but idioctic, friend.

“Yea, I invite your ass out here more than once a year and my dad will have both of our asses. That’s assuming you don’t kill us first.”

“You wake up in Tijuana one time, and suddenly I’m a bad influence?”

“We were in the fucking Bahamas, Brian!”

“So, not my sharpest moment! I got us home didn’t I?”

“No, jackass, my dad got us home. You got chlaymdia and a fucking sunburn. Now get in the car before I leave your ginger ass here!”

“Fair, that’s fair.”

Brian had been on his soccer team in the first grade. They’d been best friends ever since. When his dad moved the entire family out to California, Brian was with them for every holiday and every break they could find. The two were inseparable. Brian was a jackass, and he got Shawn into far more trouble than he did anything good. But he was his best friend. He’d been there for him, the first time his dad cheated on his mom. The first time he got his heart broken. When his dad had taken everything from him. So, there was a loyalty between the two of them that was unmatched. They’d do anything for each other. Anything.

So, there’s no one else he’d rather sit on his couch with in the middle of the afternoon and smoke the kind of weed that made your knees numb. That’s the kind of friendship he needed.

“What the fuck have you been up to lately?” Brian coughed around the bowl. “I haven’t heard from you in forever.”

He chuckled up at the ceiling which was maybe the most prettiest ceiling he’d ever seen. Wow.

“Man, my dad is totally up my ass about ‘ continuing his legacy’. I like ‘work’ now. Real shit. And then... I’ve been fucking honest to god the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Not enough hours in the day I guess.”

“Yea, what else is new?”

He shook his head. “Nah bro. You don’t understand. Like even I don’t know how I pulled her. She’s thirty years old. My dad’s fucking terrified of her. She got three of the top artists of the year under her belt, and she lets me make her cum until she passes out. It’s fucking addicting.”

Brian passed the bowl, and Shawn worked on taking three big hits, the smoke filling his lungs and taking over his whole body.

“Hold up. You’re fucking the same chick like...consistently? Since fucking when?”

“Since...Since she gave me the best orgasm of my entire life? Since...I don’t know, since my dad makes me so fucking stressed all the time I feel like I’m gonna explode. I mean it man, it’s bad. It’s worse than I ever could’ve imagined.”

Brian, for all the jackass that he definitely was, still turned to his friend and gave him a glance check of wellness. That glance to look for damage, to look for signs of mental distress, of pain. Brian knew. He always knew better than anyone.

“Then why don’t you just tell him to stick his job up his ass, man? You knew you didn’t want this from the beginning. You can get out from under him!”

They’d had this conversation since Shawn had turned twenty-one and his dad insisted he start learning the ropes. The company would be his one day, assuming he stuck it out until his old man keeled over.

“I can’t. He’s got me; we both know it. I either fall in line and get my inheritance next year, or I leave now and I’m fucked. H--He promised he’d give me my masters then. He promised.”

“Yea, but your dad is maybe the most evil bastard I’ve ever met. No offense. I just don’t want to see you waste your life away doing this shit that makes you unhappy only to find out that it wasn’t even worth it in the end.”

“I know man,” He responded glumly. “I know.”

Too somber of a topic for getting high, they each settle a little more bonelessly into the couch and lean on each other’s shoulders as the high take it’s full effect.

“So the Shawn Mendes is fucking the same girl on the daily? You two exclusive or something?”

“Nah man we just...have an understanding. We lead really stressed out lives. I kind of want to boss someone around a little bit, and she wants to not have to give any orders for a change. We just work well.” He shrugged.

“Oh, so it’s just casual sex then?”

“Yea...Casual. Sure.”

“Well, you don’t sound so sure.” Brian snorted. “You catching feelings or something?”

“No! No. I--I’m not, man. She’s just weird. She’s not like the girls I usually fuck around with. She’s a little harder to read.” He shrugged.

“No shit, man she’s fucking thirty!”

He didn’t know if he should tell Brian about Miami. About holding her during the show. How they slept together, just slept, in her hotel room. How it was the most well rested he’d felt in months. It wasn’t the conversations they usually had. Shawn hadn’t had a serious girlfriend in over three years, and there was a reason for that. Women were too much of a headache, always wanted more than you could give them. As long as he was single, he was in control. And it wasn’t like y/n even wanted to be with him. Half the time he couldn’t figure out if she hated him still, if she still viewed him as just an extension of his father. The part of him that wanted to change that, that wanted her to view him at something else, didn’t vibe well with the voice in his head that kept reminding him it wasn’t supposed to matter.

So, they get dressed up. Shawn orders them a car to stop at all the places in NYC that one only went to if they had money, power, fame, or some combo of the three. The city was his stomping ground of sorts. He felt good there, much better than he did in LA. Things can move just as fast in LA, but somehow it feels a little less artificial. Maybe it isn’t, maybe he’s an idiot, but he doesn’t really care. Just needs to not think for a while.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

Friendship dates are instrumental when you work together. It’s important to have a space that isn’t dominated by work or business. So, once a week, as long as your schedule permitted it, you and Tiana would just go for best friend time. It could be  drinks, dinner, a movie, a yoga class when you were both feeling particularly dumb. On this week’s agenda you were taking a sculpting class. You liked clay, and Tiana liked the fact that they served wine. It was easily a win-win situation.

“So… How was Florida?”

Your hands stumbled on the piece of clay you had been in the middle of scoring and you definitely ripped a whole in it. Idiot.

“Florida? Why do you ask? What happened in Florida? Nothing.”

She raised an eyebrow and stared at you like you were crazy. Maybe you were crazy.

“Bitch is you crazy?” She snorted.

Fair.

“Bitch you the one asking dumb ass questions.”

“Mhmmm . . . So I spoke to Mike the other day.”

You paused in your work and looked over to see her twirling her little wine glass in her hands like the rude little gremlin she was.

“Is that so?” You huffed. “Spit it out, wench.”

“Oh don’t mind me. My niggas barely uber to see me. Let alone fly by jet.”

“Oh for fucks sake. You and Mike gossip more than my mama and her friends.”

She cackled and took a sip from her glass. “And we love it, sis! Now if you don’t unbunch your soaked ass panties and start sharing details, I swear fo’ god. What are best friends for anyway?”

“There is nothing to tell, heffer.” you sighed going back to your precious clay. “He just needed some very specific release and came to Miami to get it.”

“Yea? Well Mike says he stayed through Orlando.”

“Mike needs to keep his mouth shut before he gets fired.”

“Why would you lie to me of all people. Who am I gone tell about you and Shawn Mendes’ rendezvous?”

You rolled your eyes and threw your tools to the table. In hindsight, Shawn had been burning a whole in your mind the past few months. And you hadn’t talked about it all, had no one you could really share it with. Tiana was your ride or die. If there was anyone in the world you could talk to? It was her.

“Okay. Okay fine.” You sighed. “I was kidding though. He was really frustrated and he didn’t want to wait for me to come back to NYC. So I jokingly told him he could come to Miami. I didn’t know his ass was going to show up! And when he did...we fucked at first. And it was fine. It was good like it always is but then…”

“Oooo. Bitch don’t clam up at the good part. What happened next?” She encouraged.

“You know when Ariana does needy and the moon rises and it’s like kind of a romantic, maybe sad, bop?”

“Yes?”

“Well...You know how I get into my feelings sometimes. I guess I maybe leaned my head on his shoulder a little bit. And then he--he wrapped his arms around me. For the rest of the show. Even Break free. Didn’t take his arms away the whole time... That’s weird right? Like why would he do that?”

“Because he has sipped from the valleys of the African diaspora  and he is hooked, bitch!”

Tiana bust out laughing getting them dirty looks once again from the white women who came there to nurse their minor alcoholism. Oh well.

“Very funny. I’m serious, Ti!” You whined. “I don’t...do this. I don’t know how to do anything but hooks up. And with a man almost six years younger than me?”

“So you want to date him?”

“No!” You hissed beneath your breath. “No...well I mean I don’t know. It doesn’t matter because he doesn’t want to date me okay. It was just a lapse in judgement.”

“Yea, okay. I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me what the hell else happened?”

“Well we spent like three or four days together. And he just kind of hung out while I worked. And we had sex...a lot. Like three or four times a day. It was so intense. And then every night for the show we would go out and watch and he kept putting his arms around me. What the fuck does that mean, Ti? ”

“It meannnns he likes you bitch.” Ti rolled her eyes. “What else could it mean?”

“You know who we’re talking about here. It’s Shawn. Shawn doesn’t do anything but get women into bed with them. We both know that.”

“Yes. We also both knew that he didn’t hook up with a woman more than once. You two have been screwing longer than most of your past relationships. So let’s stop pretending that we’ve got this white boy squared up when obviously we don’t.”

You sighed letting your face come to rest on your clay covered hands.

“I just...I can’t afford to let him catch me slipping, Ti. Whether I like him or not doesn’t matter. I can’t let his dad get in the way of my goals.”

Tiana nodded and placed her wine glass down to take your hand in hers.

“Girl, I get it. White men are trash and as much as we make fun of them, there is a fear there that we cannot let go of. But you cannot, I repeat, you cannot let that man dictate your life. He’s not worth it. He’s had not a damn thing to do with your success, and he will not lead to your downfall. Now if Shawn turns out to be more than what we thought he was, then let that be enough. Don’t ruin it for Manny’s sake. He doesn’t deserve that much of your energy.”

And that was why she was your best friend. She was the most intelligent person you knew. She was funny and wild and crazy, but she kept you centered in a way that no one else could. And she always made shit make sense. Even when you were fought it with every fiber of your being. There was no use. Tiana was always right.

“Yea, okay. Let’s just let it die for now. I don’t think even Shawn knows what he wants yet tbh. No reason for me to think too much into it now.”

“Whatever you say sis. whatever you say.”

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

It’s dark. There are bodies everywhere and the strobe lights illuminate a face every once in awhile. Brian’s talking to some blonde that’s five inches taller than him. There’s a brunette to his right that keeps whispering in his ear and playing with his hair. He’s not drunk enough for this. His whole vibe is off, and he’s not quite sure why. Why can’t he fall back into who he’s always been.

“Do you wanna take me home tonight?” She murmured wrapping one of his curls around her finger.

He snorted. “I don’t exactly take people home sweetheart.”

“Oh...Well, do you wanna come over to mine? I live close by.”

“Yea, maybe later. I’m gonna get another drink, you want one?”

“S--Sure. Thank you.”

He slides off the couch in search of more bottle service. He’s got a feeling that there might not be enough in the state.

Brian finds him searching for answers in a shot glass. He slides his hands sloppily along his shoulders and he already knows what he’s about to say.

“Bro! This chick’s all over me. Can I use your spare room?”

He shrugs. “Sure, whatever man.”

“What about your girl? You ready to go back?”

“I don’t know man. I’m just not feeling it.”

Brian’s eyes widened in confusion. “The fuck is there not to feel? Just pull your dick out and find friction.”

“Just go grab your girl and let’s get the fuck out of here, aye?”

He tried to focus his eyes on his, which just resulted in his head wobbling a little bit. Shawn sure hoped he didn’t have whiskey dick, cause he’d never heard the end of it.

“You seriously not getting any tonight?”

Oh he was getting some. Just not the likes of what NYC’s latest size negative two of the month had to offer.

Apparently Blondy and Brunette are friends. When Brunette finds out Blondy is getting in the car, and she isn’t there’s a little bit of a hick up. Somehow Brian still convinces Blondy to get into the car. His best friend might have at least mediocre game. The ride back is full of obscene kissing noises, and Brian trying to convince this poor woman he’s going to be able to make her cum tonight. Home couldn’t come fast enough.

Shawn: come over.

y/n: oooo I feel like Cinderella being cuarted at the ball.

y/n: Negro it is one am. No.

Shawn: I’ll send you a car. Come in those horrid little fluffy pjs I saw in your suitcase in Orlando. Idc. I’d get you a pumpkin carriage but I think the dealership might be fresh out of those.

y/n: YOU WERE NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE THOSE. YOU WERE NOT INVITED TO THE TOUR.

Shawn: Please? I’m too drunk to argue with you. My best friend is about to seriously dissapoint this poor woman tonight in my guest bedroom, and it’s gonna fuck up the whole vibe of my space. Some good sex must be had tonight.

y/n: the amount of bullshit that comes out of your mouth on a daily basis. Truly remarkable.

Shawn: I’m sending you a car. You don’t even have to take your bonnet off.

y/n: You are not fucking me with my bonnet on. My black grandmama anscestors would haunt my ass with negro spirituals for the rest of eternity.

Shawn: Noted. I’ll see you in forty five?

y/n: Ugh. Whatever.

Fucking finally.

***

He’s still in his jeans from the club and reclining on his bed as the alcohol races through his system when the app alerts him that she’s on her way up from the lobby. Thank god for fancy passcodes that mean he doesn’t have to let her in. He lurches up out of bed to meet her at the door. His guest bedroom is on the other side of the apartment, and he’s hopeful that the sounds won’t make it over to them. He just wants to focus on her tonight. Nothing else.

Since their weird little bubble in Florida, they hadn’t talked about any of it. Y/n arrived back in town and immediately asked to be tied up, gagged, and whatever else meant that they were focused on nothing but the bedroom. It didn’t hurt his feelings at all. This is what they were good at. This was the whole point of everything that they were right? Not to make things complicated but just to fuck and to let themselves release everything out into the bedroom. And that’s exactly what they were going to do tonight. He would make sure of it.

On the other side of the door, she’s standing there in tennis shoes and all silk pajamas. It’s a short and camisole nighty combo that he has every intention of ripping with his bare hands. But it’s cute. She’s cute.

“You went out tonight.” She notes, her eyes raking over him until he’s twitchy and needy.

He nodded. “Yea.”

“Did you hook up with someone?”

Something about the fact that he’s had something to drink just tells him to be honest. He can see her, maybe even more clearly than he was used to, and he had not a single ability in the world to bullshit her anymore. Not tonight.

“No. No I didn’t. There was a girl there who tried, who wanted to come back with me, and I--I thought about it. I did.” He hummed. “But I texted you instead.”

He can tell she wasn’t ready for the honesty. He can see the way her jaw untightens just slightly, the way she relaxed just barely. Who the fuck is either of them kidding?

“Explain to me why I’m here again?” She asked cocking her hip against his door.

She had braids in again. He didn’t know how to tell her that he’d been thanking God for protective styles since she flipped them over her shoulder that one time while she rode him into her desk chair. He was dangerously drunk.

“Stop talking. Come here.”

He cups his palm around the back of his neck and pulls her lips against his. She releases a little half whimper half sigh when he bites her bottom lip and moves his tongue to where she needs him to go. They’re still halfway in his apartment and halfway in the hallway when he pulls her legs up around his waist and presses her into the wall next to his doorway. But she still gives him everything that he needs instantly. Still pushes her hips against his. Still scratches at his scalp like no one ever has. Still had a grip to her thighs that makes his mouth water and his dick hard. When her ass is filling his hands and then some, there’s not a question. That woman from the club wasn’t going to give him this. Wasn’t ever going to be able to make him feel the way that she could. So why fucking lose this?

He slammed the door shut and took her back to his room, body laid out perfectly amongst his sheets. His fingers reach for his belt, and she’s giggling as she kicks her shoes halfway across the room. She’s really beautiful when she smiles. Fuck.

She went to reach for her camisole and he was hopeless but to stop her. His hands locked around her wrists pinning her to the bed. And she peered up at him with those big ass eyes of her, wild and brown and blown with lust. But her skin is soft as a fucking feather. And her cheek bones sit high and prominent and perfect. Her lips are thick and plush and he knows there’s no filler in them because every time she kisses him it’s like heaven. And he’s drunk. He’s so fucking drunk. The problem is that way too much of it is just her, and that never used to be reason enough

He kisses her. But it’s not like it was at the doorway. It’s not like the first night they spent together, or any of the other kisses after that. It’s soft. It’s slow and methodical and searching. Her eyes flutter close and she parts her lips and this time her tongue is leading the charge. But he doesn’t stop her. Would never want to stop her from kissing him like this. His hands go lax on her wrists and she reaches to pull him closer instead. They fall flat on the bed, her body wrapping around his. He loses himself in her kiss, in her touch. She’s just there filling up every space that’s ever existed in his life And he wants her. God does he want her.

“Shawn.” She mumbled against his mouth.

“Shhh. Let me touch you.” He begged.

Her eyes softened and she nodded allowing him to rip that pretty camisole he’d been thinking about since he opened the door. That’s as rough as it gets. When he’s met with the soft skin of her breasts he can’t do anything but be tender. He roles her nipples between his thumbs, licks along the valley of her sternum, and her moans are incredible. He’s stuck on her. And the one way to work through that, the only way to not fall consumed by her, is to touch and lick and kiss. And she lets him. Lets him and lets him and lets him.

“Touch me.” She gasps.

And so he touches.

***

The sun streams through his curtains, and it’s the second thing that wakes him up that morning. The first is the warm body pressed against his chest. When she wakes up in the morning she stretches her whole body, but it all originates from her spine. It makes her look a little bit like a fish out of water, or a mermaid. But he kind of likes it. This time her stretch sends her deeper into his arms, and he’s totally okay with that. Her eyes open and they stare at each other. It’s silent. Just the two of them. After that.

“Hi.” She whispered snuggling a little deeper into his pillow.

He licked his bottom lip, voice tired from lack of use. “Hi.”

“Do we....Do we talk about what that was?”

“Really? This early and you already wanna talk?” He smirked.

“It’s in my blood. Don’t make fun of me.”

She flicks his bicep and it’s the most ridiculous thing he could ever imagine. It’s too early to deal with her ridiculousness.

“I’m hungry.” He sighed and rolled over onto his back.

“Well get to cookin. The movie where the black woman serves the white man is a straight to dvd feature, and I am only interested in box office hits.”

“Well that sounds lovely, however I meant much more of the, ‘you riding my face until you cum’ type hunger. Or is that not high enough at the box office for you?”

“Hmm...well we certainly can try!”

He can’t help but laugh as she settles her thighs over either side of his head. Her thighs are things of miracles and he’s just a bit obsessed with them, just a bit obsessed with her. His hands settled on her hips and he can’t help but look up at the way the sun hits her chest and face. She’s beautiful.

His tongue traces languidly at her heat. He’s not interested in driving her up a wall this early in the morning. Just wants to fuck her through the fog of their wake up. So, he licks deep into her. He lets his tongue dip inside and then runs the flat of it against against the entire length of her pussy. Her clit is already erect and at attention. He settles his hands onto her knees and rubs at her thighs. She plays with his hair and grinds slowly against his tongue as they work her towards her release.

“Fucking shit, Shawn,” She whined. “That’s so good.”

He tilts his chin up and follows her shaking hips, his lips attached to her clit. He just wants to devour her.

“Baby I--I’m gonna cum!”

She’s never called him baby before. Not once. And it sparks a reaction that neither of them could have seen coming. He flips her over onto her back--thank god for neck and back day--and chases her pussy like it’s the last coke in the desert. It might very well be.

“Oh--Yes! Yes!”

The knock on the door can’t come at a worse fucking time.

He pulled back and wiped at his mouth eyes still completely zoned in on what’s happening between her legs.

“NOT FUCKING NOW BRIAN!”

Her fingers dig into his hair and pull him back between her thighs. It’s hotter than he could imagine.

“Bro I just need to borrow your jeep for like thirty--an hour--two hours tops !”

He pulled away from her with a slurp. “You touch that fucking jeep and it’s the last thing you’ll ever do!”

“Melanie has to get to a study group for her philosophy class!”

“Who the entire FUCK is Melanie?!”

Her fingers are in his hair again. She leans up to nuzzle his throat with her perfect lips and take his ear lobe between her teeth.

“Can we please? You got on a private jet to visit me in Miami. I think a jeep is the least of your concerns.”

He whined and nuzzled back against her softly. “I love that car.”

“Maybe work on loving this pussy a little more?”

Well that was certainly doable.

“Yea, okay.”

*five minutes later*

“Okay! Well uh...I’m just gonna take the jeep. I’ll bring it back, bro promise!”

He pulled back one more time. “Get the hell out of here, Brian!”

“Jesus Brian! GO!” She yelled in unison.

….

“Tough crowd!”

***

“Shawn, I’ve got to go!” She giggled.

He was much more interested in kissing his way along her neck and collarbones.

“Mmmm. No.”

“I have a brunch with a very important client, and thanks to you I’m going back to my house in a dumb man shirt.”

He snorted and ran his tongue along the length of the collar.

“This is saint laurent.”

“This is me leaving!” She insisted tugging out of his grasp.

He followed her to the door, the length of her braids only bringing more attention to the way her ass swayed in those shorts. Jesus.

“Can I ask you something? Before you go?”

She paused at the door and turned to him, letting her back rest against the wall.

“Sure.”

“You felt it last night, right? I’m not crazy, am I?”

She bit her lip, and shook her head softly. “No, you’re not crazy. I felt it.”

“And it means something, right? It is something?”

It takes a little longer to get a response out of her. But slowly but surely she nods at that too.

“Yea. I think it is.”

He took a deep breath trying to discern for himself whether he was about to fuck everything up. When his fingers mold to the apple of her cheek and she peers up at him with these big, soft eyes he knows there was never any choice for him. He’d been kidding himself since the beginning. This time when they kiss neither of them are holding back.He lets himself be gentle. He holds her against his chest and he doesn’t think at all about the consequences, or what it might look like. He just wants to kiss her silly. He does. She does the same for him.

He pulled back to check for fear of hesitance in her eyes. There is none. How is there none? And so he just...goes for it.

“I like you.” He admitted softly. “Like a lot.”

She ran her thumb along his lip, tugging at it  until it smacked back into place.

“I like you too. A lot.”

Her eyes are warm and soft even now. She’s so inviting and she just seems to pull the truth out of him with ease. He just wants to be honest with her. Even when it’s scary. Even when it doesn’t make sense.

“Well uh...I’m not gonna lie I don’t really know what it is you see in me. I--I know what I am. And I know what I can offer. For some girls it’s enough, but for you...I don’t know that it could be.”

“You don’t need to talk down to yourself to get me to like you Shawn.” She murmured.

He snorted. “I know that. I’m just saying what we both know. I know I can be an asshole, and a cocky asshole at that. But I can’t even think of touching a woman who isn’t you. I’ve never had that happen before. Not in my whole life. I guess I just--fuck. Will you go out with me? Like to dinner? As human beings that don’t just make each other cum.”

“Dinner hmmm?” She hummed.

“Yea, dinner.”

“You really want to be seen with me in public? What would your dad think?”

“I don’t...I don’t care what my dad thinks. I want to take you to dinner. Do you want to go with me?”

The pause she takes is long enough to kill him. For sure it is.

“I...Yea. I do.”

It brings a smile to his face against his better judgement. He didn't usually do smiles. Really got in the way of his image. A look of smug indifference was his go to. But this woman was quickly ruining everything he ever thought that he knew.

She lets him kiss her against the door. Let’s him hold her face in his hands. It feels good. Feels right.

“Hey, if we go on a date it’s not gonna stop you from domming me is it?”

He laughed. “Of course not.”

“Okay. You can kiss me again.”

“Thank you.”

Permanent taglist 

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Arrangement Taglist: 

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@claredolphinbear24 @peterbrokenparker @shawnase @blackharry @shawnwyr @speakingofmari @moniehp 

[rosesloveletters]

Hermes, Hestia, The Moirai, and Erato for you and Patrick💜💜💜

Hi darling! Thank you so so much for asking💖

Hermes: Was it love at first sight? Slow burn with lots of pining? How fast did your relationship progress?

Oh, it was love at first sight. The very moment our eyes met there was no doubt in my mind. The first night we met, we spent it talking for hours. We were both awake late that night, telling each other everything that was on our minds; neither of us have ever had someone we could share our thoughts with in a way like this and it was new, refreshing and innately comforting in a brand-new kind of way. 

In spite of this, our relationship did not progress quickly as some might think. We did not being to connect much more heavily until late summer, as the seasons began to change. We’ve always known our feelings to be more than friendly; those are a third presence in the room whenever we are both within each other’s proximity. 

Everything about our relationship is born out of Pat’s spontaneity and my desire for a deep and soulful connection. Even his marriage proposal came utterly out of the blue; we fell in love at first sight, though now we are still falling for each other every chance we have. 

Hestia: What makes you and your f/o(s) feel at home?

Closeness. Our home is and always will be each other; Pat is all hand-holding, bear hugs, tender kisses, gentle touches and cuddling embraces. He has to feel wanted. He never has experienced the freedom to love in this way before and he does all that he can to never be without it. 

Whenever Pat loves, he loves so deeply. I wish I could put it into words, but sometimes the most beautiful things in life cannot be captured by use of language and it would be wrong to try. 

His favorite thing is to snuggle beneath his knitted blanket he’s brought from Australia. It reminds him of his childhood and he’s always got it close by. It’s much too small for him now at a clean six foot tall; the blanket was made for a child and a child he was whenever he had received it. Though now, as a grown man, he still clings to it, a child at heart is he. 

I feel most at home with him whenever I’ve got my own comfort items close by; Pat’s given me a strawberry plushie and I couldn’t be happier💖

The Moirai: What is your “happy ending” for your ship? How do you end up? What kind of life do you want together?

We’re already living it. I understand it’s cliche to the ear, but it’s true. We’re happily married and living each day with the other in mind and it is all I could ever ask for. 

We would love to do some traveling in the future, though I have a feeling that will be a ways off; we’ve got a few select destinations in mind. Pat also loves concerts, so perhaps I’ll drag him along to a few💖

We both want the kind of life that we’re living right now; it doesn’t matter what we’re doing or how we spend our days as long as we have the other in mind and know that we are loved. 

Erato: Does any canon ship remind you of your ship (if you like those)? What tropes or ship dynamics apply to your ship?

I cannot think of many canon ships that really remind me of us, though there are several tropes that at least apply in some way to Pat and I:

bully turned puppy lover - Don’t get me wrong, Pat is not a bully. However, he’s not exactly the friendly, open-book sort of guy either. He is intimidating if you do not know him and there’s countless rumors circulating about him, following him as closely as his usual cloud of smoke; he smokes much more freely if he’s in public (Pat has a slight touch of social anxiety.) If he’s not hiding out somewhere at a bar or at work, he’s keeping his head down wherever he goes, though it’s not a secret that he’s not afraid to get into a fight if it’s at all necessary. When others see him acting the complete opposite of this, it comes as a shock; Pat is a very intense lover and he makes his feelings and intentions known. 

huge guy, tiny girl - As I stated, Pat is an intimidating guy if you do not personally know him. He’s six foot tall, large hands (and feet; guy wears a size 12 pffft), defined biceps... I’m just barely 5′5″. He’s a little more than half a foot taller than me. It comes in handy because, as I said before, Pat likes to touch and to cuddle any chance he gets; he likes to give piggyback rides and to compare hand sizes and pick me up and carry me throughout the house. (I love this trope the most because it means he’ll give me lots and lots of touches and hugs💖💖💖)

hates everyone but you - Pat is not a people-person, especially towards those he truly does not like (canonically speaking, whenever Joey first approaches him on the soccer field.) He doesn’t go out of his way to try to make friends; if someone wishes to make that effort, he will show an interest, but it takes him a while before his heart’s in it (with all of the rumors that are circulating, it takes him some time to warm up to people and find out who he can trust.) He is indifferent towards most friendships and only actively keeps up with people who’ve been close friends with him for a while or worked with him in metal shop at school. He keeps to himself and is prickly and peevish if someone approaches him when he’s not inclined to converse or trade niceties. Sometimes, if someone approaches him that he doesn’t like, he will pretend he doesn’t hear them until they become irate and walk away. He’s never acted like this with me; our trust runs deep and he and I both are aware of each other’s intentions. He’s safe with me and I with him. 

tragic past - I could say that this one applies to Pat if only in a minor way. He lost his Grandpa during his high school years, after spending an entire summer caring for him and it took a toll on Pat’s mental well-being; he didn’t have time to grieve. He had classes and, now that he was truly on his own, a job to worry about. Now that things have settled for him, he has had time to process the loss and even though it still hits him hard at times, I think he’s feeling much more like himself. 

[artofabeginner]

Sloth

I would like to preface anything I write by saying this, I am not a sociopath or a psychopath. I have emotions, I swear. What happened does not reflect my emotional capabilities. Instead, I would like to point your attention to this; I like to not care. It’s work to care. And I don’t like to work, but listen I am not apathetic. 

So here is what happened. The short and long of it is this; Two years ago I was approached by a woman on the side of the street, her name was Mrs. Jones, and she was a woman of little to do. In nicer terms, she was lazy.

In the beginning, I did not get along with her. She was annoying and did nothing, ever. I at the time was very different. I was active; I held a job, I played soccer every Saturday, I even was part of the school PTA. So to meet someone who simply didn’t do anything was unfair, and at the time, to me was the greatest failure a human could make.

But there she was, approaching me when she knew I despised her. She asked me over to her home, claiming she was going to show me something, and then she smiled. The thing about her smile is that she rarely does it. In fact, I was so sure that she couldn’t smile, that when she did it didn't register as such. Maybe it was for this reason that I decided to show up, or maybe it was curiosity over why she would approach me. But either way I ended up at her door that Saturday evening with a bottle of wine in one hand, and a handshake in the other. 

After saying our pieces at the door, she led me in. For the next couple hours we talked. We talked about everything from the soccer games, to pop culture, to local gossip. 

“Did you hear about...”

“Did you know that...”

“The game was...”

And on and on and on. I had forgotten what I had come for and instead began to focus on the things inside the house. Her entire house was decked out in fancy linens and paintings. She probably could have sold one painting and it would have paid off my college debt. Which was odd, because someone as lazy as she was would not have made this amount of money. 

On my way out, I got my answer as I came face to face with a man in a fur coat and an expensive looking suit. 

“Who are you?” I asked

“The owner of the house, obviously.”

“Oh.”

Turns out, the man, whose name I later learned was Mr.Livey, was Mrs.Jones Husband. And apparently, My.Livey was filthy rich, at least to the standards of everyone living around him. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem too concerned with a strange man being with his wife late on a Saturday, but I suppose being rich offers people confidence.  And as I left, she grabbed my arm and smiled.

“I never got to show you that thing, maybe next week?”

“Sure.”

For the next couple of months, I would show up at odd hours,and we would talk. Later talking turned into taking naps in different parts of her house, to simply lounging about in silence. These moments, I began to crave, like it was some kind of drug. It began to be the only thing I could think of. I quit the soccer team, and stopped showing up to PTO meetings, instead opting to simply be in her presence.

It was a Friday, when she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the forest, 

“I am going to show you that thing we have been putting off for forever.”

She led me into a clearing near a river, we sat down in silence for a moment, opting to listen to the trees and branches. A moment turned into an hour, and I realized I was late for work, beginning to worry, I began to stand up and make my way out of the clearing when Mrs. Jones grabbed my hand.

“Don’t leave, we aren’t done.” “Done? I have work, I need to go!”

“Do you?” “Well I have work.”

“But do you need to leave?” She pressed again, “What is there to worry about?”

“Nothing I suppose,” I said, allowing myself to be pulled back to our spot. She leaned her head onto my shoulder and chuckled, 

“No nothing at all.”

Soon after she fell asleep, and I followed suit. As I slept I dreamed of nothing and wished for no one,and as I woke up I realized something very important, there was nothing I wanted more. But, as I looked around, I found myself realizing Mrs. Jones was gone. Slowly, I got up and looked around. It wasn’t until I had cleared the clearing, that I realized she was truly gone, rushing over to her place, I found her sitting by the door to her house.

“Where were you?”

“Why?” “Well, I was worried!”

“I thought I told you not to worry.” “W-What?” I watched in alarm as she dug into her purse and pulled out a locket, slowly she lifted it into my hand. After placing it in, she wandered off into her house and shut the door behind her. 

Later that night, I opened the locket and found an image of a field, one I couldn't place. Inside one of the covers, was a note. 

“Dearest friends,

Of all the time we have spent together, I would have assumed you would have noticed. You spent so long making fun of me, laughing at my relaxed attitude and free heart. Yet you find yourself craving my companionship. To put it simply, this was the easiest way to prove to you that you were wrong. And you know that you are, when was the last time you went to church? Instead you found yourself at my door every Saturday. Gone went the honest God fearing member of the community. In came a snail, one who only thinks of the now, of the rest and freedom I offered you. Like salt, I sucked out of you everything. And you still have yet to learn, your life is temporary. Why worry about the future? Worry is work you subject yourself to. And you and I know that work is tiresome. I believe this will be the last time we talk, you took too much energy from me, too much time and you ignored everything I taught you. 

Sincerely,

Mrs. Jones” 

I didn’t see Mrs. Jones for a very long time. I don’t know if it was because if she was avoiding me, or if it was because I was avoiding her. The next time I even heard of her was a year later. When the local gossip mill, Kalie came into the bar in the evening.

“Did you hear?” She smirked as she saddled up next to me.

“What?” “Mrs.Jones is sick. Very sick” Emphasizing very.

“Hmm, what happened?” “She neglected her health, guess that's what happens when you live life like a sloth.” “You aren’t that funny.”

“I never said I was.”

I didn't go see her, there was little to see and even less to say. This is the point where everyone tells me that I am cold hearted. And while I can understand everyone's viewpoint, I don’t agree. She and I had little to do with each other, truly. The thing is that she was being treated far away, and going all that way was too much. More importantly, however, was that I didn't care. There was little to care about, because caring took energy, and as I’ve stated before. I hate work.

She was buried last week, y’know? Or at least that's what I was told by Kalie. Her funeral was phenomenal, supposedly extremely lavish. But the only people who showed up were her extended family.  Sad, I suppose. No I didn't go, I didn't particularly care. Tis the beauty of the sloth, you hold the world in your hand, but you can do nothing with it.

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me if You Can (7/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Oh my, oh my! Something big happened last chapter, didn’t it? Sorry for the delay in posting! I got on a prompt kick and didn’t want to overwhelm you guys with words! But don’t worry! I’ve officially written 19 chapters of this story😱 and still have some more to go! Shout out to @resident-of-storybrooke for beta-ing all these bad boys!

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current 

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Tag list: @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @snowbellewells @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @emmas-storybook @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera@jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @galaxyzxstark @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer

-/-

One. Two.

One. Two.

One. Two.

It’s a repetitive motion that Emma can’t stop, her fist continuously hitting against the punching bag in front of her until she’s finished with her reps and every inch of her body feels like some kind of expired jell-o that’s at the bottom of her kitchen cabinets.

Why did she ever even buy jell-o? That is not something that she usually would have even bought unless she was randomly trying to attempt to make a recipe to take to dinner at David and Mary Margaret’s.

That must have been an odd day. What would she even have been making?

Emma drops the gloves she borrowed from the hotel into the basket, her hands slicked in sweat, and wipes her forehead down with the back of her forearm before bending down to pick up her phone and walk out of the gym. She can already feel that she overdid it today, that she’s barely going to be able to move tomorrow, but in the words of Elle Woods, happy people don’t kill their husbands.

Wait. What?

She definitely skipped forward on the lines there. She was most definitely leaning more toward exercise giving endorphins and making people happy or marginally less frustrated with the state of their lives. She’s on the second half of that spectrum, and she’s not afraid to admit it.

To herself at least. There is absolutely no way that she’s telling someone else what exactly it is that’s going on in her head. That’s probably unhealthy, but she’s not going to worry about that right now.

Ducking out of the gym, she immediately moves toward the back staircase of the hotel she’s staying in, avoiding the breakfast buffet area no matter how much she wants a bottle of water and something to eat. She bets they have waffles. But nope. No. She is not entertaining the idea, and she is not going there. The team is staying at this hotel (thanks David for nearly always booking them in the same place when that’s most definitely not necessary), and she is avoiding Killian Jones at all costs.

Because she kissed him.

(And he kissed her back.)

She fucking kissed Killian Jones, who is most definitely high on the list of people she should not be kissing, and yet she knows exactly how soft his lips are compared to the scruff on his chin. She knows that he makes this deep growl noise when she bites his lip, and she knows that he likes to focus on one lip at a time, specifically her upper one.

She knows that it feels damn good.

She knows a lot more than she should because she should never know how it feels to kiss him.

After he asked her out, after all of the fame and harassment and annoyances that came with that, she told herself that she would be pissed at him, that she would hate him and be annoyed and absolutely have nothing to do with him outside of a professional capacity.

That lasted for a solid two minutes once she saw him again.

It’s this…tether of sorts between them, and she doesn’t understand it. Their conversations are easy, even if they’re not always fluid, and she flirts with him. She knows that she does. She’d have to be blind and deaf and incompetent not to realize this, and she kind of hates herself for falling into the trap that so many others have fallen into. And it’s not that he has a full dating history, that he was once more known for who he was sleeping with than how his arm was working. That’s not it at all.

(Though she does have thoughts and questions and worries because she can spot a man running from something from a mile away, and that’s exactly what all of that had to have been. He was not sleeping around like that simply because he could.)

It’s her job.

She hates that she’s been flirting with him because of her job. She hates that she kissed him because of that.

Professionalism is important to her, and she’s hated how she’s rarely been taken seriously. A female working in sports, especially male-focused sports, is a rarity. Most women are shoved off to the side to only commentate on softball or women’s soccer (which is just soccer, by the way) or the WNBA. They’re not allowed to work with the men, the networks not promoting them, but Emma was promoted. She got the job even without much on-air experience, and even if it was partially because of David, she still did that for herself.

And she worked hard to make sure that she was taken seriously.

Then Killian Jones asked her out, and eighty percent of that effort went down the drain in one quick motion under the loud cheers of the stadium crowd and the rapid beating of her heart.

So, she can’t be kissing him in tunnels in the stadium or flirting with him over breakfast. She simply can’t. Because then there’s a picture of them somewhere, that picture makes its way to her bosses, and she’s having to sit in an HR meeting even though it’s not actually against the rules for her to date a player. But the rules don’t matter when it’s the rumors that will kill her.

Rumors make the world go round while also destroying lives all at once.

People will wonder if she’s been sleeping with Killian since before he asked her out. That’ll make them wonder if she slept her way to her job, which would validate the thoughts of so many people. If they date and break up, she’ll never be known for her job again. She’ll always be known as Jones’s ex, and no part of her is under the impression that she’ll be transferred to another team. She’ll be forced to interview him and record segments and commentate on his games.

All of her credibility will disappear, and she simply can’t do that.

Not when she’s been working so hard to build it up.

Neal was always making fun of her for her job, for her major, for her love of baseball, of tennis, of soccer, of anything. She put up it with it at first, being young and so stupidly in love that she thought he could walk on the moon without any help, but as the years dragged on, as she continued to work at ESPN while in college, it really started to take a toll on her that her boyfriend diminished her choices as if her career was a silly little hobby that meant nothing. She gets it. She’s not a doctor or a human right’s lawyer or a teacher. She’s not changing the world. But this is what she does, what she enjoys, and no one should ever be allowed to make her feel bad for that.

If you love someone, you don’t diminish their interests.

Neal made her feel like the shittiest person in the world every single time she put her job or school above him. Even if it was simply that she couldn’t go out to a bar with him because she needed to study, he made her feel like she was doing him some kind of disservice, like she owed him her time instead of giving it to herself.

The two of them had so many issues, some that she never got to resolve, but the biggest was that he consistently made her feel like she was nothing but a girl playing pretend in having a career and a family just like she’d been doing her entire life.

Asshole.

Walsh was the same way, but even he didn’t mess her up and make her question everything in the way that Neal did. If he did, she imagines her work experience would be even more different now, that having to see him occasionally would be more than a little annoyance.

Another reason dating someone she works with is a horrible idea.

Emma does all of this for herself because she loves it, but at the back of her mind, she can still hear his voice telling her that she’s not good enough and should leave all of this to the professionals. All she wants is for that voice to go away, for him to stop taking up space in her mind.  

And that’s exactly why she can’t make out with Killian Jones again. It would be a horrific idea in every single way. Her body says yes, her mind says hell no.

Okay, it could be that her body says hell yes and her mind says a very quiet no, but that’s not at all what’s supposed to be happening. Signals are getting crossed somewhere.

Once she’s to her hotel room’s floor, she pushes open the stairwell door and checks to make sure there’s no one around like the paranoid person that she is, before jogging down the carpeted hallway to her room. Ruby isn’t with her for this trip, so she’s got the room to herself. It’s quiet, and while Emma can appreciate that, she kind of misses Ruby. They’re pretty much attached at the hip at all times, so the few times a year where Emma travels and Ruby doesn’t or vice versa are a little lonely. At least she doesn’t have to room with someone she doesn’t really know. That happened once, and that’s an experience Emma never wants to have again.

Her phone rings in her hand, and she nearly drops it from the shock, only pulling herself together enough to answer and place it on speaker so that she doesn’t have to hold it up to her sweaty ear.

“Mom is pissed at you,” David practically yells to her, something he does whenever he’s walking outside the office. Sure enough, she can hear the faint sounds of traffic and construction.

Ignoring the fact that he just called Ruth her mom, something he always seems to do, she sighs and flops down on the bed, not caring how sweaty she is. “Because I missed Easter? I told her that was happening ahead of time. I’m literally across the country, David.”

“She misses you.”

“I talk to her all of the time.”

“That’s not the same as going home, and you know it.”

Emma huffs, kicking her foot against the carpet. “I know that, but I don’t have several days off until a few weeks from now. I can go spend a month up there once the season is over.”

“That’s not entirely true. You still work for us full time, technically. Not the team.”

“I know that.”

“I’m just saying – ”

“David.”

“What?”

“Is she really pissed at me?”

“No,” he exhales, the background noise disappearing in the way that she knows that it does when he’s walked back into the office. “It was different having a holiday without you is all. Maybe I’ll invite her to come stay with us when you’re home for a bit. That way it’s the best of both worlds.”

“Okay, Hannah Montana.”

“We are both too old for that reference.”

“I’m only a year older than Miley Cyrus.”

“That makes me feel ancient.”

“Well, you are.” Emma twists her hands in the sheets on the bed, causing them to wrinkle before letting go. “I have to be at the stadium in two hours, but I promise I’ll call Ruth tomorrow before I get on the plane to go to San Francisco.”

“She’d like that. How are you? How’s California? I feel like we never get to talk when you’re on the road.”

“I freaking love California,” she sighs, putting her phone to the side so she can get out of these sweaty clothes and into a robe. “The weather is so nice this time of year, there’s a beach, the food is great. The traffic sucks, but the traffic sucks at home too. I don’t know. I feel like if I had to live somewhere else, it’d be out here.”

“I’m pretty sure Mom will be even more annoyed if you move across the country.”

“That’s what you got out of that?”

“Pretty much.”

Emma groans as she struggles to get her sports bra off, having to tug and pull until it snaps free and slaps against her skin. “I would never leave you guys. Or Ruby and Graham. I need someone to cook all of my meals for me. I’m too dependent on that.”

“Like the adult you are.”

“Exactly.” She finally gets her bra off, which feels like some kind of triumph, and tosses it onto the desk where all of her notes for today’s game. “David, I’ve got to get ready for today, but I’ll talk to you later, okay? Tell Marg and Leo that I’m invading the house on my off day when I get home.”

“They’ll both be at school that day.”

“After they get home. I’m obviously going to sleep throughout the entire morning.”

“Obviously. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

-/-

The Dodgers absolutely obliterate the Yankees that afternoon. 11-2.

Killian gets pulled in the bottom of the third.

Will Scarlet nearly gets thrown out for arguing with the umpire.

August Booth loses his footing and falls against third base in a move that has everyone saying he has a wooden leg for all of his flexibility.

It’s an all-around disaster of a game, a horrible way to close the series, and when she goes into the clubhouse to try to talk about it and break down what happened, the only man who will even acknowledge her is Eric Fisher. He barely gives her anything.

Not a great day at the office for anyone.

-/-

It’s two hours after the game is finished that she finally gets back to the hotel. There’s a sour feeling in her stomach over it all, frustration with the loss and with her coverage. The guys are usually pretty good at talking to her, coaches and managers included, but sometimes when there’s a loss like that, no one feels like acknowledging her presence. It’s fine. Honestly and truly it is. She wouldn’t want to talk to an annoying reporter after having her ass handed to her on a silver platter either, but that doesn’t make her feel any better about anything.

Maybe the sour feeling in her stomach has to do with the fact that she hasn’t eaten anything other than a granola bar all day. She knows not to do that, honestly and truly, but since she’s trying not to eat in front of a camera after the last few games that she’s worked, she didn’t get something to eat at work today. She definitely should have stolen some of the fruit from the craft services table inside of the press box when she went up there to get her microphone.

After flipping through the room service catalog and deciding that there is no way in hell she’s paying that much for a bowl of pasta, she orders a box of pizza to be delivered, and starts scrolling through the channels on her television trying to find a movie to watch. She needs to pack up for her early flight tomorrow, but since she’s already in her sweatpants and has taken her bra off, that seems like far too much effort. She’ll do it in the morning. Working under pressure has always kind of been her thing.

Finally, she decides on Titanic. It doesn’t matter how many times she’s seen it before. It’s a classic, and it’ll keep her entertained. Just as Rose and Jack are standing at the helm of the boat with their arms in the air, her hotel phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Miss Swan,” the voice says, “your pizza is here, but you have to come to the lobby to get it.”

She groans a little before speaking. “Okay, that’s fine. I’ll be right there.”

Emma rises from the bed and hastily puts on her sneakers, tucking the laces into the shoes instead of tying them, and walks out of her hotel room so that she can go down to the lobby to get her pizza. This better be good pizza, but it probably won’t even matter with how hungry she is.

She finds the guy easily, handing him his tip as he hands her the small box, and she thinks she’s made it home free until she turns around and practically runs into Ariel Fisher.

“Hi, Emma,” she smiles, as bright and friendly as she always is. Seriously. She’s always friendly and polished, and Emma is literally wearing sweatpants and a tank top with no bra. Her shoes aren’t even tied. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” she says, forcing a smile. “How are you? How’s Eric? He didn’t seem to be having too great of a day.”

Ariel shakes her head from side to side and rolls her eyes. “They’re all a bunch of oversized children. Seriously. They lose nearly as much as they win, but they never quite stop complaining.”

“I think that’s all men, if I’m honest.”

Ariel barks out a laugh, her red curls falling back behind her shoulders as her hand lands on her chest over her heart. “Absolutely true. Hey,” she starts, eyes glancing over Emma in a way that makes her stomach twist, “a few of us are sitting up on the roof right now. They have a bar and this charming little firepit. Why don’t you join us?”

“Uh,” she stutters, pulling her bottom lips between her teeth and trying to think of an excuse as to how to get out of this, “thank you, but I think I probably shouldn’t intrude. I was fully planning on kind of vegging out on my pizza.”

“You can do that up with us! It’s fine! If any of them try to take your food, swat them away. They’ve all eaten. Come on. It’ll be great.”

She has the word no on her tongue but never gets to say it as Ariel smiles at her again and grabs onto her elbow, pulling her along with her. Emma could easily say no again and walk away, but she finds herself following along in the elevators and listening to Ariel go on and on about how much she loves when they get to be in California for a week like this, even if they don’t get to stay in the same city the entire time. Emma can wholeheartedly agree with this, so she continues to make small talk as the floors tick off and the elevator door opens up to the rooftop.

The sun hasn’t quite set all the way, so there’s an orange tint to the darkness of the sky that reflects off the stringed lights that move across the roof. The noise level up here is already much louder than downstairs, and she can see the bar full of people as well as the large firepit with chairs surrounding it. Immediately, her eyes scan over the group, and she recognizes Eric, Will, Arthur, Robin, Phillip and Killian. Of course he’s there. Why would he not be? She also sees Arthur’s wife, Jennifer, and Belle French, Will’s girlfriend. It’s odd to know all of these people without really knowing them, and she feels like an intruder coming up here to sit with them.

At least everyone is dressed the way she is, and she doesn’t look like a total slob.

Okay, maybe she does.

Shit, she doesn’t have a bra on, it’s kind of chilly up here, and her tank top is far too thin. Idly, she wonders if she can make a break for it and run right now, but everyone has already seen her.

“I found a stray in the lobby,” Ariel sighs as she walks into the circle and sits in a chair next to her husband. “I pretty much dragged her to sit up here with us, and no one ask her for her pizza. That’s hers, and she’s not sharing.”

“That makes me sound great. Thanks,” she chuckles awkwardly as her eyes scan the circle for a place to sit, and because the world hates her, the only open chair is right next to Killian Jones.

Of-fucking-course.

He’s very pointedly not looking at her, which she both appreciates and hates, and maybe that’s what drives her to walk around the circle, the fire warming her a bit, and sit down into the lounge chair next to him, her pizza box sitting on the table in between them.

“Your attire is a little different there than usual, Swan,” Will points out, dangling his beer bottle in the air.

“So is yours. It’s probably a good thing they make you wear a uniform because your clothes don’t match at all.”

The conversation dies down around her, everyone stopping what they’re saying, and she can feel the blush rising to her cheeks until Belle starts giggling, her hand covering her mouth as her wine sloshes around in its glass in the other.

“She’s right, babe. Your outfit is awful.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“You have on a Hawaiian shirt, Scarlet,” Robin yells from his seat. “That isn’t even in style in Hawaii. All you need is a fanny pack.”

“I’ve heard those are coming back in style, actually,” Eric adds.

“Absolutely not,” Ariel laughs.

“Why do they call them fanny packs if they don’t go on your ass?” Emma questions in as she leans over and takes a slice of her pizza out of the box, figuring if she’s eating, she won’t have to talk as much.

“They’re supposed to be worn on your ass.” She twists her head to look at Killian at the same time that he looks at her, quickly glancing away and adjusting his faded Vanderbilt sweatshirt. “But people are assholes and steal shit, so everyone wears them on their stomach now.”

“Thank you, professor Jones,” Will mocks, doing a fake bow.

“I hate when you call me that.”

“It’s very fitting. You’re a know-it-all.”

“That is decidedly untrue.”

“I agree with Will,” Arthur adds in, and Emma can practically feel the tension between he and Killian simply by the tone of his voice. What the hell happened there? “You do act like you know everything.”

“I can guarantee that I don’t,” Killian grits out all the while she takes another bite of her pizza. She should have gotten popcorn instead because this is honestly like a show.

“It’s the way you talk,” Robin says kindly, and she subtly twists her head to the side to look at him. “You can’t help it. Your brain is always running through scenarios and coming up with questions and looking for more information. The way you look at stat sheets is insane. I think it all stems from your physics degree.”

“You have a physics degree?” she blurts out, and she can feel every head in the circle turn to look at her.

Outsider.

“No,” Killian says quietly, propping his jean covered legs up on the concrete rim of the fireplace. “I have most of one. I didn’t finish school before I got called up.”

“Huh, I didn’t know that.”

“There’s lots of things you don’t know about me, love.”

All of her intestines twist within her stomach, and she smiles at the intensity of his gaze before biting into her pizza crust. This is all a bit overwhelming yet fascinating, and this is probably the first time she’s ever spent time with all of these people outside of a baseball stadium. Well, except for Killian, but she’s decided that he doesn’t count.

“And most of them are not good,” Eric teases, only for Killian to hold up his middle finger at the man.

“Killian is fantastic,” Ariel gushes, betraying her husband. “Seriously. I love him, and you guys are all assholes to him sometimes.”

“Babe, I don’t think defending him like he’s in kindergarten is going to help his case. I don’t think he even has a case with Emma. Really, I’m surprised she’s even willing to be in a five-foot radius of him.”

“We can beat him up for you, if you want,” Will supplies.

“If you hit him in the face, though, he won’t be marketable anymore,” Belle laughs. Emma’s never really talked to her before, but she’s funny. That’s a good match for Will.

“I take offense to that,” Killian huffs, crossing his arms and letting his muscles flex under the material of his sweatshirt. “I am marketable for more than just my face.”

“Your ass is another one.”

“And technically your arm.”

“I’ve heard things about his thighs.”

“Oh, and his eyes.”

“That counts as part of his face.”

“You are all fucking assholes,” Killian laughs, his eyes crinkling as his head tilts back. “I spend all of my days with you people, being kind, helping with presents to buy for your wives and girlfriends, helping you win games, and all you do is give me shit in front of Emma when she already thinks that I’m the biggest ass in the world.”

“Not the biggest,” she corrects, the words flowing before she stops herself. Did she have wine or something today? Because she is not in her right mind. “I know at least a handful of people who I would put above you on that list. Will, for instance.”

A smile starts on the left side of Killian’s lips and stretches to the other, his white teeth on display as the now nearly completely fading sun sets a soft glow over his skin, making his tan deeper. She’s never going to deny that he’s attractive, that she’s attracted to him, but she has to deny the feeling of attraction that’s not physical. She’s kissed the lips making that smile, and her body tells her to do it again. But she can’t. Simply sitting up here with him is probably dangerous enough.

“You are much more fun outside of work, Emma Swan,” Will sighs, and it’s his voice that has her looking away from Killian and the way that his blue eyes were focused on her.

“I’m fun at work too, thank you very much. It’s just that with some of you guys, it’s like pulling teeth to get an interview. Eric was the only one who would even give me one today.”

“To be fair,” Robin sighs, “I wasn’t there.”

“No, no,” Eric laughs, kissing his wife’s head. “Don’t try to take this away from me. I got the gold star today. Maybe you’ll get it tomorrow.”

“Maybe I’ll also help us win tomorrow.”

From there it’s a roar of conversation, all of them debating back and forth about the game and what went wrong, what they should have done, what they will do next time. It’s a conversation she’s sure Al already had with them in the locker room after she left, but it’s still fascinating to see them have it in such a casual setting where they all have drinks in their hands or their phones out. She swears that August Booth hasn’t looked up from the notebook he’s writing in the entire time she’s been out here, and Arthur’s wife hasn’t said a single word, even to Arthur.

By the time that she’s been out there for an hour, goosebumps rising on her arms, she’s learned more about the personal lives of the players than she has in her three years of covering the team. Will is most definitely the one who jokes around the most, and Belle is always bringing him back to earth. Robin reminds her of David in the way that he plays the role of Dad despite being near the same age as most everyone out here. Eric and Ariel remind her of David and Mary Margaret too, except a little bit more fun, and it’s kind of this weird connection that she’s making between the people in her personal life and the people in her professional.

Robin, August, Phillip, Arthur, and Jennifer have all gone inside, each of them excusing themselves throughout the hour, and the roar of conversation has dulled to quiet ones between the six of them that remain.

She’s finished half of her pizza by this point, but since she’s starting to feel awkward again, she opens up the box and takes a slice out, biting into it only to see Killian take a picture of her eating with her phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” she mumbles, covering her mouth.

He smiles and takes another picture before putting his phone in his lap. “I didn’t see you eating on the jumbotron today, so I figured the tradition of people filming you needed to continue.”

“That’s really weird.”

“Never said I wasn’t.”

She finishes chewing and puts her half-eaten slice down on top of the box. “I have purposefully been avoiding eating while working since it’s obviously now a running joke.”

“That’s why I had to continue it.” He moves his eyebrows across his forehead, and a chill runs down her spine, causing her to rub her hands over her arm to combat some of the chill. “You cold, Swan?”

“I’m fine,” she lies.

“I can see the gooseflesh on your arms.”

“It’s fine.” She waves him away and adjusts her tank top, crossing her arms over her chest because she can see her nipples through the material. “Nothing the fire can’t fix.”

Suddenly Killian leans forward and grabs onto the nape of his sweatshirt, pulling it over his head. His shirt comes up with the movement, revealing muscles and hair on his stomach, and she glances down quickly before looking up to him holding his sweatshirt out to her, the chain he wears around his neck shining against his black shirt.

“Here,” he offers, a soft smile on his face.

��That’s not necessary.”

“Love, please. I know you can’t be warm. It’s fine. It’s just a sweatshirt, not a marriage proposal.”

She will do anything to have him not continue that kind of thought process, so she quickly takes the sweatshirt and pulls it over her head. It’s soft, obviously well loved, and probably about two sizes too big for her as the arms are a little long and the hemline would most likely land below her ass.

“Thank you,” she smiles, nodding her head. “I’ll give it back before I go to my room.”

“Of course you will. That’s my favorite sweatshirt. It’s not getting out of my sight.”

“Why do I feel like you would do murderous things if I don’t give this back?”

“Because I would.”

She laughs and curves her legs up underneath her thighs as the picks up her pizza again. She is eating nothing but vegetables tomorrow. “You want something to eat? It’s all I can offer in return for the sweatshirt.”

“Is it all just pepperoni and cheese?”

“Yep. It’s not like anything at home, but it’ll do.”

He nods his head and leans over to open the box, perusing the pieces before taking two and folding them together. “I think sometimes people try to add too much to their pizzas. Toppings are great, but sometimes simple is better. Classics are classics for a reason.”

“You’re one of those people who thinks everyone should read classic books, aren’t you?”

“They’re good.”

“Not all of them are.”

“You’re disturbed.”

“Maybe.”

“Thank you for the pizza,” he mumbles, taking a large bite as he adjusts in his seat, leaning in a little closer to Emma as they speak. “I’ll pay you back for it.”

“It was, like, ten bucks,” she promises, reaching her hand forward to touch his forearm to reassure him. “It’s fine.”

“It’s the gentlemanly thing to do to pay you back.”

“Oh, so now you’re a gentleman?”

He winks, and heat rises on her cheeks as her eyes glance from his lashes to his lips. “I’m always a gentleman.”

All of the sudden, his words sink in. He may simply be offering to pay for half of a pizza for her, but the implication of more is behind it. He’s asked her out on a date, they’ve shared a really good kiss, and she can’t do this no matter how much she wants to.

Oh wow. She wants to.

But she can’t.

Her career is too important to her, and she absolutely cannot ruin that, not now. Dating Killian, even considering it, is a horrible idea for approximately seventeen different reasons. He wouldn’t just break her heart if it didn’t work out, he’d break her career too.

It’s all too much, and even if they’re simply having a conversation right now, she can read between the lines.

Rising from her chair with a rapidly beating heart, she finally notices that all of the people around them have disappeared, only people she doesn’t know filling the seats.

“Swan?”

“Swan?”

“Emma?”

“Yeah?” she gasps, twisting her head back to look at Killian.

He smiles, and guilt settles into her stomach. “What are you doing?”

“I, um,” she mumbles, already taking a step away, “just remembered that my flight is super early tomorrow, and I haven’t packed. So I’ve got to go. Enjoy the pizza. I’ll see you in San Francisco.”

She’s running. She knows that she is. There’s no denying it, and she doesn’t even care until she’s in the elevator and the mirrored doors are closing in front of her to show that she’s still wearing his sweatshirt, the scent of Killian Jones overwhelming her.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate you, I Love You, Chapter 44

Chapter Summary -  Danielle is finishing the paperwork from her job in Wales, while Tom is in London. A quick phone call alters those plans, but as Danielle makes to leave to be with Tom, she realises his weekend in Wales was not as low-key as they thought.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“So, Friday?” Tom asked hopefully.

“No,” his stomach dropped. “Wednesday night.”

Tom frowned, “What?”

“Set is shut down since last Friday, we’re done,” Danielle informed him.

“You’re finished?”

“We are.” Her smile was clear through the phone. “I am free for all of Christmas and New Years now.”

“Have you any plans?”

Danielle giggled for a moment. “I have a lot of paperwork I am still working on, but other than that, walking Mac, a bit of training and probably eating far too much food, you?” she asked almost as though innocently, knowing full well his plans.

“I am hoping to spend time with friends, family and of course, spoil my gorgeous, sexy girlfriend.” Tom bit his lip as he mentioned her in the end.

“She’s a lucky girl.”

“I hope she thinks that.”

“And what will you be doing with this lucky girl?”

“Oh, well now, darling, that would be telling,” Tom smirked.

“You have no idea how much I want to go and see if you are all empty promises or are you talking the talk and walking the walk.” Danielle groaned.

“What about your paperwork?” tom asked.

“Is it mad to bring it, and then drive back here with it done before going home for Christmas?” Danielle wondered aloud. “Tom?” When he did not answer her for a moment, she got worried. “Tom?”

“Could you?”

“Could I what?”

“Could you take the paperwork with you?”

“Tom, I was joking, I have literally a minimum of three to five days worth of paperwork here, I would be no company to anyone.”

“But you set yourself hours, don’t you?”

“Yes, eight til eight, a few pee and coffee breaks and a lunch, that’s how I can tell it will take another three to five days.” She stated factually, as though it was a reason that made it clear as for why such a thing was only a ridiculous suggestion.

“I need to rehearse, you take the living room, and I take the sitting room,” he suggested excitedly. “I’ll make sure you have tea and food. You’re terrible at looking after yourself when you are busy.”

“Said the pot to the kettle,” She scoffed indignantly. “Tom…”

“Elle.” He retorted immediately, his excitement blatantly.

Danielle sighed and thought for a moment. “I would need to have this back to the office as soon as is humanly possible.��

“We’ll take the Jag,” Tom beamed, elated at seeing her again after another two weeks without each other. “It will take very little time that way.”

“The car we would use doesn’t matter, we wouldn’t be going over the speed limit regardless, so it would take just as long in mine.”

“I suppose no one would be looking for me in a Ford Focus.” Tom chuckled, “So, are you going to come up?”

“Can you come here?”

“I have to sign some paperwork and contracts and that here,” Tom stated, his tone downtrodden, sensing she would not come up to London.

There was another moment or two of silence before Danielle responded. “I guess I am going to have to say goodbye to the McLaren’s then.”

Tom’s stomach began to feel as though it was bubbling with anticipation. “Really?”

“Well, as long as I get this paperwork to the studio on time, I should be okay.”

“Should?”

“Well, by right, they like it done at the studio, but the production is over, I am doing this on my own time, so what can they do? It’s not like they can fire me after the job is over.” She commented.

“You’re not going to get in trouble, are you?”

“No, but if I do, I will just explain my horny boyfriend gave me an offer I could not refuse.” She laughed.

“I am a lover, not a fighter, darling.” Tom chuckled in response. “And I am most certainly not a gangster.”

“I don’t think you could pull off a gangster.”

“What?”

“Do you honestly think, you, Mr Eton education and well-spoken could pull off a soccer hooligan or something, Not. A. Chance.” Danielle scoffed.

“Darling, you will have to be punished for saying such things as that.”

“Now that role you can play.”

“What role?”

“The Jag commercial type role.”

“Does that role interest you, my dear?” he asked, a brow quirked at the idea of what Danielle may find interesting.

“Tom, they only said it was the ‘reckless speeding’ that got that ad cancelled so other men would not have to realise it was because it was at risk ruining marriages and relationships around Western Europe with women drooling at seeing you in that role.” Tom erupted in laughter at her comment. “You know it’s true.”

“Elle, I cannot wait to have you here so we can joke like this face to face and I can ravish you as you deserve for it.”

“I have to work,” she reminded him.

“We can have office working hours and couple hours.” He half-joked.

“I won’t hold my breath on that.” She laughed as she starting packing her suitcase. “I will see you in a few hours, I guess.” She smiled, looking at everything she had to fold and sort.

“I cannot express how much I am looking forward to it.” Tom smiled. “I will have something ready for dinner.”

“I will text when I get to that petrol station about an hour out from the city.”

“Pull in.”

“I am the ex-paramedic, there is no need to tell me to pull in, I have seen the shit that happens when idiots text while driving.” Danielle snapped, not meaning to come across as aggressively as she sounded.

“I know darling, I only want you to be safe,” Tom stated calmly, sensing that it was not her snapping at him for saying that, but at the idea of her even considering such a thing, since it was one of the things that truly boiled her blood. “I talk like that to everyone, because of you actually.”

Danielle inhaled deeply. “I didn’t mean to snap, I shouldn’t have, you didn’t deserve that, I just…”

“I get it, I do.” Tom sympathised, “Get packing, I will see you this evening.”

“See you this evening.” She smiled before she pressed the end call button and the line went dead.

Saying her goodbyes was simple yet sad for Danielle, the family that ran the B&B were lovely, quiet and so homely, she did not want to leave in some ways.

“You know where we are.” Clara McLaren smiled as she hugged Danielle goodbye. “And tell that lovely man of yours that we cannot wait to see him again, both of you.”

“Thank you for everything. I will tell him, and I promise we’ll return soon.”

“Good, it so hard to believe such a lovely man is a Hollywood celebrity, they are so demanding, and he is so charming and sweet.”

“Yes, Tom is a bit of a mould breaker,” Danielle smiled.

“You can tell these days with young people, what way they will turn out, well most of the time, the good and the bad, you two are two that are going to last.”

Danielle smiled, “We hope anyway.”

“It’s not hope that makes it work.” Walter dismissed. “Work is what makes it work. You’re a busy girl, he’s a busy man, that will test you, but if you bother to try, it should work out right for you.” He stated.

“I will make sure to remember that,” Danielle promised.

“Most young ones would say that and walk off without ever giving it another thought, but you, I think you will listen.” He smiled.

“Thank you both, for everything, I cannot tell you how great it’s been here.”

“Well, you know where we are.” Clara hugged her again.

“I promise, we’ll be back.”

“Well then, we’ll see you then.” They smiled, watching as Danielle walked to her car, putting her bag on the passenger seat and waving one last time before putting the key in the ignition.

“Hey, Danny?” Danielle groaned as she turned to see one of her now ex-workmates nearby. “You’re leaving?” He noticed her bags in the back.

“Yeah, I am heading to London, going to do the last of the paperwork there and bring everything back by the middle of next week.” He gave her an odd look. “Is there something you want to say, Evan?”

“That guy that was here the other week to see you.” Danielle’s heart pounded in her ears and chest, fearful. “He’s that actor that was dating Taylor Swift during the summer, wasn’t he?” she nodded slightly, too worried to speak, swallowing hard. Evan looked her up and down before pursing his lips slightly, making Danielle’s blood boil, since she knew what he was thinking. “You never said anything on set.”

“Because it’s no one’s business.” She replied bluntly.

“But you can get better jobs?”

“Why would I want to?” she frowned at him.

Evan looked at her as though she was mad. “You could work on big-budget Hollywood movies, not on little shows here in the middle of nowhere.”

“But I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want to work on big productions?”

“I do, but from working my way there myself. Not everyone in the world wants to get ahead by dirty means, Evan.” She growled.

Evan looked her up and down again, though the second time, he didn’t have the same look on his face. “Apparently not.” Danielle was somewhat worried by the smile on his face. “Fair dues, Danny, not everyone has your work ethic.” Danielle frowned. “As for your boyfriend, I’m not going to tell anyone.” He winked.

“I know I am tempting fate here, but why not?”

“None of my business.”

“If it’s none of your business, why even bring it up?”

“Curiosity,” he shrugged, “I spent about a week trying to figure out where I knew him from; it was wrecking my head, I just wanted to confirm it.”

“Well, thanks, Evan.” She smiled weakly.

“Have a nice Christmas Danny and safe journey.”

“You too,” she nodded, before getting her window up again and driving off, back towards London and Tom, hoping Evan truly had no intention of telling anyone of herself and Tom, knowing that the day would come it would happen anyway, so she could not worry too much about it.