#she wants so bad to seem like she hates jane that she's making things up
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*"SOPHIE: The first thing I should say is that I had your contact all deleted so don't think that I-- I had to ask someone for this. Anders Li had your number, I asked him. He gave it to me, after I promised to keep the swearing to a minimum, which yeah--good fucking luck--but I think it's just that he knows that I hate you and everything you stand for, so.
Believe it or not, that's not why I'm calling."
^^insane way to start a conversation!!!
#the pasithea powder#im just very curious where others stand bc the first time i listened to the show 30 sec in i was like oh this woman is LYING#she wants so bad to seem like she hates jane that she's making things up#but knowing more about sophie and jane now it is entirely believable#but idk that gut instinct isn't gone#sophie green#jane gonzalez
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One criticism of Jane Austen is that she ignored the lower classes. I find this kind of dumb on multiple levels, primarily because not every work of fiction or social criticism needs to include every single social ill, but also because she does talk about servants/the lower classes quite a bit more than people realize and what she says is important.
The overall theme: kindness to servants/the lower classes/the poor is a very important mark of character.
We all know that Elizabeth Bennet changed her mind about Mr. Darcy after hearing a positive character reference from his housekeeper, but that is just one example of many. The Dashwood girls are better employers than John & Fanny since they easily find servants to move across the country with them: Her wisdom too limited the number of their servants to three; two maids and a man, with whom they were speedily provided from amongst those who had formed their establishment at Norland. Also, servants tended to brag about having wealthy employers, these three servants wanted both a far away and a less prestigious job. John & Fanny were really that bad!
Another mark against General Tilney's character is that he gets irrationally angry at/scares servants:
To such anxious attention was the General’s civility carried, that not aware of her extraordinary swiftness in entering the house, he was quite angry with the servant whose neglect had reduced her to open the door of the apartment herself. “What did William mean by it? He should make a point of inquiring into the matter.” And if Catherine had not most warmly asserted his innocence, it seemed likely that William would lose the favour of his master forever, if not his place, by her rapidity.
“Why! How can you ask the question? Because no time is to be lost in frightening my old housekeeper out of her wits, because I must go and prepare a dinner for you, to be sure.” (Henry, on his father coming to his house for a visit. This may be half a joke, but General Tilney is very critical of the meal)
Mrs. Ferrars's character is made quite plain in this complaint about paying annuities (basically a pension here) to some of her husband's old servants:
I have known a great deal of the trouble of annuities; for my mother was clogged with the payment of three to old superannuated servants by my father’s will, and it is amazing how disagreeable she found it. Twice every year these annuities were to be paid; and then there was the trouble of getting it to them; and then one of them was said to have died, and afterwards it turned out to be no such thing. My mother was quite sick of it. Her income was not her own, she said, with such perpetual claims on it; and it was the more unkind in my father, because, otherwise, the money would have been entirely at my mother’s disposal, without any restriction whatever.
Mrs. Ferrars is loaded, and she begrudges paying a few pounds to 3 servants. She is greedy and ungrateful.
Mrs. Norris's treatment of the servants is similar to her treatment of Fanny. It shows the depth of her miserliness (how much could one boy really eat?) and also cruelty:
"I had been looking about me in the poultry-yard, and was just coming out, when who should I see but Dick Jackson making up to the servants’ hall-door with two bits of deal board in his hand, bringing them to father, you may be sure; mother had chanced to send him of a message to father, and then father had bid him bring up them two bits of board, for he could not no how do without them. I knew what all this meant, for the servants’ dinner-bell was ringing at the very moment over our heads; and as I hate such encroaching people (the Jacksons are very encroaching, I have always said so: just the sort of people to get all they can), I said to the boy directly (a great lubberly fellow of ten years old, you know, who ought to be ashamed of himself), ‘I’ll take the boards to your father, Dick, so get you home again as fast as you can.’ The boy looked very silly, and turned away without offering a word, for I believe I might speak pretty sharp; and I dare say it will cure him of coming marauding about the house for one while. I hate such greediness—so good as your father is to the family, employing the man all the year round!”
It also highlights her hypocrisy, as Mrs. Norris has moved in during the play to help with the preparations, so she is getting free meals all week but she won't let this kid eat when he's helping his father (who is building the stage for the play)
Mr. Knightley considers the common people of Highbury before moving a path, even though he likely owns all of the land and can do whatever he wants:
"But John, as to what I was telling you of my idea of moving the path to Langham, of turning it more to the right that it may not cut through the home meadows, I cannot conceive any difficulty. I should not attempt it, if it were to be the means of inconvenience to the Highbury people, but if you call to mind exactly the present line of the path"
The kind Musgroves, who have given their nursemaid a retirement plan instead of turning her out:
A chaise was sent for from Crewkherne, and Charles conveyed back a far more useful person in the old nursery-maid of the family, one who having brought up all the children, and seen the very last, the lingering and long-petted Master Harry, sent to school after his brothers, was now living in her deserted nursery to mend stockings and dress all the blains and bruises she could get near her, and who, consequently, was only too happy in being allowed to go and help nurse dear Miss Louisa.
And who clearly are rewarded for this kindness.
Anne Elliot showing kindness to Mrs. Smith, who has nearly fallen right out of the gentry, vs. her fathers disdain for charity:
“Westgate Buildings!” said he, “and who is Miss Anne Elliot to be visiting in Westgate Buildings? A Mrs Smith. A widow Mrs Smith; and who was her husband? One of five thousand Mr Smiths whose names are to be met with everywhere. And what is her attraction? That she is old and sickly. Upon my word, Miss Anne Elliot, you have the most extraordinary taste! Everything that revolts other people, low company, paltry rooms, foul air, disgusting associations are inviting to you. But surely you may put off this old lady till to-morrow: she is not so near her end, I presume, but that she may hope to see another day. What is her age? Forty?”
Added to Sir Walter and Elizabeth's idea to cut expenses:
“Can we retrench? Does it occur to you that there is any one article in which we can retrench?” and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed these two branches of economy, to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new furnishing the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom."
Vs. how the Crofts treat the poor:
She could have said more on the subject; for she had in fact so high an opinion of the Crofts, and considered her father so very fortunate in his tenants, felt the parish to be so sure of a good example, and the poor of the best attention and relief, that however sorry and ashamed for the necessity of the removal, she could not but in conscience feel that they were gone who deserved not to stay, and that Kellynch Hall had passed into better hands than its owners’.
Henry Crawford's moral fall begins with ignoring the needs of his tenants:
"I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon. I am not satisfied about Maddison. I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else. I must come to an understanding with him. I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property... I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from. Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace me; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already. Would it not be worse than simple? Shall I go? Do you advise it?”
Of course, Henry does not go to Everginham, as he knows is right, but instead goes to the party in London, where he again runs into Maria...
Yes, Austen didn't write servants/the lower classes as full characters in general, they are in the background and around the edges of the scenes, but over and over, we can sort characters into moral and immoral by their treatment of those less fortunate around them.
#servants#jane austen#mansfield park#emma#northanger abbey#pride & prejudice#sense & sensibility#persuasion#treatment of servants#and the lower classes#there are more examples these are just some#the poor and servants are there#and they tell us a lot
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Lights, Camera, Stroll (Lance Stroll x Youtuber!Reader)
All the pictures are from Pinterest or Nessa Barrett.
bloggingmylife
Liked by lance_stroll and 234,768 others
bloggingmylife Decided to have a chill day at home!! New video up!!
user5 I love your vlogging style♥️♥️ user6 teach me your ways🥹🥹 user7 is it just me or did I hear a guy in the background?!🤔🤔 user8 why is Lance Stroll in the likes?? Since when did they follow each other??🤔😣
user2 that one user on twitter did say you were dating user3 so happy for you!! can't wait to see him in your videos
bloggingmylife
Liked by lance_stroll, astonmartinf1 and 1,869,953 others tagged lance_stroll
bloggingmylife Got invited to the Canadian GP!! Had so much fun!! Love you Lancey!!😘😘
user1 OMG!! Is she dating Lance Stroll???😭😭 user4 f1 wag🥹🫣😭 user5 so pretty in green💚💚 lance_stroll love you too baby♥️♥️Liked by Author astonmartinf1 Please come back Y/N😭😭 bloggingmylife astonmartinf1 I'll be back as much as you want admin😘😘
lance_stroll
Liked by bloggingmylife, astonmartinf1 and 2,768,980 others tagged bloggingmylife
lance_stroll Home🇨🇦
user6 Lover boy Lance was not on my 2024 bingo😳😳 user7 they are so cute😚😚 user8 he called her his home🥹🥹 astonmartinf1 good weekend👍 bloggingmylife I wish you didn't travel so much😤😤 lance_stroll bloggingmylife what's stopping you from following me around?🫢🫢 bloggingmylife lance_stroll actually you are right🙄🙄.
Y/N- Hi guys!! Y/N here. Today I am joined by my lovely boyfriend!! Lance- Hi Y/N's subscribers Y/N- We're playing Most Likely too today!! Shall we start?? Lance- Sure, babe Y/N- Who is most likely to plan a spontaneous trip? Lance- *points to himself* she stress's too much and needs days to plan stuff out. Y/N- hey!! I just like being in control of things *pouts* (Lance pecks her lips.) Y/N- Who is most likely to forget important dates like anniversaries or birthdays? Lance Lance- when did I do that?? Y/N- my birthday, this year. Lance- in my defence it was on a Monday after the race *raises hands up to surrender* Y/N- fine, I'll cut you some slack. Who is most likely to win a cooking competition? Lance- Y/N. She cooks the most delicious food. My trainer hates her. Y/N- I try to make healthy and tasty food. I call bs on your trainer. He just hates not being able to eat my cooking. *Lance laughs* Y/N- Who is most likely to start a new hobby or interest? Lance- Y/N!! We have so many of her hobbies lying around, half done. Y/N- Listen, they seem like good ideas at 3 in the morning and I order them on Amazon. Lance- I love your neurodivergent self!! Y/N- Who is most likely to handle a surprise party for the other? Lance- Me. Y/N- Who is most likely to stay up all night binge-watching a new series? Lance- Y/N, she spent the last night binge watching Lady Jane. Y/N- The show is great and I would like to tell the audience; he watched it too!! Who is most likely to initiate a major life change, like moving to a new city? Me, since I literally move for you. *pecks Lance on the lips* Lance- Thank you, I love having you home. Now you can start travelling with me too. Y/N- Who is most likely to take on a new fitness challenge or goal? Lance- me. She barely goes to the gym. Y/N- don't expose me like this!!! Who is most likely to surprise the other with a thoughtful gift? Lance- Y/N. I have so many gifts and for the randomest occasions. Y/N- You get me flowers all the time. I have to return the favour. Who is most likely to get lost while driving to a familiar place? Lance- She got lost in her home city *shakes his head* Y/N- I'm bad with navigation. Lance- That's why I drive you around, I'm scared I'll lose you. Y/N- Aww, Lancey!! I love you Lance- I love you too!! Y/N- That's it for today!! Hope you guys had fun. I had a lot of fun. *the video ends with both of them kissing*
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula one x y/n#lance stroll#lance stroll x reader#lance stroll x you#lance stroll x y/n#lance stroll imagine#lance stroll fluff#lance stroll smau#f1 smau#formula one smau#ls18#ls18 x reader
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Come back to me Part 1
A/N: Before you read this, I want you to know that my native language is different. So I am very sorry for any mistake. Nevertheless, I hope you will like my story and enjoy it.
Summary: The love story between Alec Volturi and Y/N Swan, was an unexpected one. Both didn't know what to make of each other when they found out they were soul mates. But they worked on it and created a beautiful strong love that not even Bella's hatred for the Volturi could destroy. But as in any good love story, tragedy was impossible to avoid in theirs. It came as unexpectedly as their love itself, and made the Cullens and Bella seem to win, while Alec and the Volturi were losing their light in the darkness.
Alec Volturi x Swan!Female!reader
Main Post / Twilight Masterlist/ Come back to me Masterlist
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"I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night me met I dont know what I´m supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you"- Lord Huron/ The Night We Met
Helplessness or powerlessness
Alec didn't know exactly which feeling had been eating away at his insides every day for the past two months, or was it perhaps both? Ever since he'd gotten the call from the Cullen Doctor that the woman he loved more than anything in the world was on the verge of death, Alec had felt like he was in a freefall into darkness. He was not present and yet not absent enough to be able to shut off his emotions from the pain he felt all the time.
Lost in thought, he looked down at his mate and ran soothing motions over her hand that lay in his. Y/N was still lying in the hospital bed in the hospital room in the city that Alec Volturi had learned to hate even more in the last two months than he had hated it before, Forks.
He had not been told exactly what had happened to her, because no one knew for sure how Y/N had left the road with her car and ended up in the lake. There was no storm that evening, no wet or slippery roads or anything else that could have caused the accident. The rest of the facts were also just speculation. Y/N had managed to get out of her car, but the temperature of the water was too cold for her to have the strength to swim to the surface afterwards. She had lost consciousness and only survived by pure luck. This lucky charm was called Jacob Black. He and the other wolves had heard the crash and had run as fast as they could to the lake.
"I always thought that our twentieth birthday would be the only bad memory that would burn itself into my brain and never want to leave." Alec looked away from his sister and ran both hands over his face. He felt something he hadn't felt in several centuries, tiredness. The vampire would love nothing more than to lie down next to his mate, close his eyes and simply sleep away Y/N's absence. But he had long since lost this ability, something he had never regretted until this moment.
Jane, who was standing at the window, looked at her brother in shock. It was the first time she had heard him speak since Y/N's accident, she had come back to check on him every now and then and had never been able to get more than single words out of him. The second thing that shocked her was that she and her brother had never spoken about what had happened, not since they had both turned. Jane sat down in the chair next to Alec and looked at him searchingly. "I'll be honest with you, brother, I've forgotten exactly what happened. Either it was too long ago or my memories are trying to protect me." Alec turned to his sister in surprise. "Really? My memories want to torture me, in this case, I guess. I remember every little detail."
He fell silent for a few moments, turned his gaze away from Jane and looked through the window at the cloudy sky. He had to grin slightly. He hated this town and yet its weather seemed to know exactly how the vampire felt at that moment.
Alec noticed how his sister's gaze seemed to bore deeper into his side profile with every passing second of his silence. His gaze lingered stubbornly outward as he continued. "I remember how you, me and mother were eating dinner when the villagers kicked down our door. I remember them chasing us through the forest with flaming torches and insults. I remember how we were captured and dragged to the dock on the shore. How we were tied to a stake on a pyre and insulted further. I remember mom trying to get to us and fighting against the people holding her. I remember how she broke free. How they grabbed her just before the stake and pushed her to the ground. I remember how she was kicked by the people she had known since childhood. I remember her choking on her own blood." Alec turned his head back to Jane. "But you know what the worst memory from that day is?" The blond vampire shook his head. "The flames. I remember the pain and the smell of our skin burning off piece by piece."
There was an intense silence between the two siblings for a few moments.
"Since when do you remember every detail?" Jane's voice had changed to a soft tone that she only used with her brother and Y/N. Alec's eyes drifted to his mate, reflecting the pain of the last few weeks. "Since the day I saw her lying here like that. Since then, I can't get it out of my head that fate always manages to sweeten my life, only to ruin it afterwards." The black-haired vampire jumped up and walked over to the window. "Alec, Y/N is alive. Carlisle…" "The Cullen doctor, doesn't know if she's waking up. He doesn't even know if she'll ever be able to breathe on her own again without that machine." Alec ran his fingers through his hair again.
His gaze wandered to the machine that displayed Y/N's vital signs and beeped along with her heartbeat. He looked at the machine, from which a tube led into his mate's throat. Alec knew that if it wasn't for that tube, his lover wouldn't even be breathing. The vampire took a closer look at Y/N. Alec swallowed, because there was hardly anything left of the girl from two months ago. Her skin was white and stretched against her body so tightly that you could see every single bone. Her cheeks were sunken and black spots had formed under her eyes. Her hair looked dull as it had lost its shine.
"I should have kept her in Volterra and bitten her the first time we met. Then she wouldn't have had the idea to come back here." Jane stood up instantly and stood in front of her brother, drawing his gaze from his mate. She put her hands to her brother's cheek and looked deep into his eyes.
"Alec, if you had kept her in Volterra the day she was dragged into our world without any preparation and turned her against her wishes, do you really think Y/N would have fallen in love with you? Do you think she wouldn't have listened to the Cullens and seen you for the monster you are to that clan? She would have hated you for the rest of your immortal lives. You would never have been able to reach her." Sadly, Jane turned her gaze to Y/N and back to her brother. "If she doesn't survive this, which I hope she doesn't, at least you had a time together with her that you would want to remember. Y/N loved you and always will. Hold on to that Alec, I beg you not to lose hope now."
Alec let his head grow heavier in his sister's hands. "What if I bite her now…. Maybe I can end this nightmare." Alec lifted his head stepped away from his sister and began his pacing. "I should never have let her go to Forks. The Cullens and her sister don't care about her safety like me, you, or the rest of the Volturi!" His eyes wandered helplessly back and forth between his sister's face and the lifeless-looking body of his mate. The feeling of powerlessness spread through him again, drilling into his bones like a disease.
Jane shook her head. "Carlisle said that our poison might just kill her faster and you couldn't stop her from coming to Forks. After all, she wanted to say goodbye to her father. You know she wouldn't have been able to see her father after her transformation." "Then I should have gone with her…" "Alec, you can't undo what happened. So stop blaming yourself." "I can't lose her Jane, I can lose anyone but her." Jane nodded knowingly. "I know Alec." She whispered. Alec stopped and accepted his twin's embrace. He tightened his hands in her top and lowered his head into the crook of her neck.
They were both there when their master Marcus lost his mate and how he was broken by it. They also saw how he suffered every day. Jane didn't want her brother to suffer the same fate. That's why she had taken the message that Y/N wanted to be turned very well. That way, the young girl would be out of the danger of being human. But ever since the call had arrived in Volterra saying that Y/N was on the brink of death, the thought that Alec could end up like Marcus was a shadow of every action the siblings had taken. Jane couldn't lose her brother and even if the blonde vampire didn't want to admit it, the same was true for Y/N. For the young girl had burned herself into her cold, non-beating heart. Jane also knew that it wasn't just her, but every single vampire who lived in Volterra.
Y/N had earned the nickname "The Sunshine of the Volturi". Because no matter how many prejudices the Cullens and her sister had tried to put into Y/N to turn her against the Volturi. The young woman had created her own images of each individual vampire, which placed her in a special role for each one. For the three kings and their wives, she became a daughter, someone they all wanted to take under their wing and show everything the world had to offer. To Felix, Demetri, Santiago, Afton, Chelsea and Jane, she became a sister. For the rest of the Volturi guard, she became a friend. For Alec, she became his companion, the love of his life and his best friend. What united the Volturi was one thought when it came to Y/N; they all wanted to protect her, whatever the cost.
Alec detached himself from his sister completely, walked around her and sat back down by his mate's bed.
"I'm so sick of this hospital room." He murmured. Carefully, Alec reached for Y/N's hand and clasped it with both of his. Slowly, he brought it to his mouth so he could leave a kiss on her fingers. Alec cursed his vampire existence at that moment, more than on other days. Because she had taken away his ability to cry. All he could utter was a silent whimper. Alec carefully placed Y/N's hand back on the mattress. He leaned towards the bed so that he could place one of his hands on her cheek while the other stroked tenderly through her hair. His eyes clouded over with pain.
"Did you know that you are so important to the Volturi that even the kings themselves were here to see you? Although Master Aro could see you through Demetris or through someone else, all three wanted to see it with their own eyes." He paused for a few seconds. "I think by now every Volturi has been here once. Your sister and the Cullens throw a fit every time they see another one of us." Jane quietly sat back down in her old seat and watched her brother closely. He removed his hand from her cheek and placed it on Y/N's hand.
"What I want to say to you, my Love, everyone misses you and everyone prays, I don't know to what or to whom, that you will open your eyes and brighten our lives with your light again. Volterra is so cold and dark without you. I miss you, so terribly that I can't even describe it anymore." Alec bit his lips and squinted his eyes. Jane placed her hand over Alec's and Y/N's. "Y/N I beg you come back to me, don't leave me behind in this world."
Jane opened her mouth to say something reassuring, but she was startled and looked down at the hand she had placed on her brother's and Y/N. Alec's eyes snapped open too, his movements in Y/N's hair stopped.
"Tell me you felt that too! Tell me I'm not going crazy Jane!" Jane just looked stunned at their joined hands and then at Y/N's face. "Alec…" Alec took his eyes off the hands and looked at his sister. She pointed at Y/N with her free hand, "Look!"
Y/N's eyelids twitched slightly and all hell broke loose.
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@rosedpetal @bofadeezs
#twilight x reader#demetri volturi#twilight fanfiction#twilight imagine#the volturi#volturi x reader#felix volturi#jane volturi#alec volturi#caius volturi#aro volturi#alec volturi x you#alec volturi x y/n#alec volturi x reader#alec volturi imagine#volturi fanfiction#volturi guard#volturi imagines#volturi aesthetic#volturi kings#the twilight saga#the cullens
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HOW TO BREAK A GIRL'S HEART — TOM HOLLAND
REQUEST: I don’t know if you’re that type of person who takes requests but I had an idea with tom holland where he’s the stereotypical jock and you’re the nerdy girl but here’s the thing you’re also diagnosed with cancer and he keeps bullying you every single day of the week until when he figures out you have cancer then he starts to feel guilty and starts to fall for you, but you try to be sympathetic by saying that it’s not his fault for all of this and etc just a thought by the way.
WARNING(S): Angst, mentions of cancer, fluff at the end, teasing, name-calling, bullying.
WORD COUNT: 19,121 :)
PAIRING: Tom Holland x Sick!Reader
A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Old repost! Feedback is always welcomed. Also be nice, 16 year old me wrote this, but I gave it more structure lmfao but it was kind of sweet to read some of my old works lol. This was honestly one of the better ones I found.
MASTERLIST
Growing up you had made it your life's mission to try to find a way to get through school. That mission involved trying to make friends and make the best out of everything, which now seemed like a wish you could only dream of. School felt like it never got any easier. Throughout it, you realize who were your true friends and who weren’t at all.
Especially when high school rolled around the corner. You got teased and picked on a lot more. You liked to think it was because you were sick. You had cancer, and as much as you hated it your mom had been hesitant about letting you attend school. She was scared something bad was going to happen. You didn’t have anyone to have your back. You didn’t have many friends.
Unless you counted your mere acquaintances, but you hardly ever spoke to them. You were pretty much alone, and as much as you wanted to believe that you got picked on because you were sick. You were wrong because no one knew. No one knew you were sick and they teased and picked on you because of who you were and how you carried yourself, it had nothing to do with you being sick.
-
Monday.
You were in front of your locker reading your favorite book, Jane Eyre. Your locker’s door blocked any view of anyone who could come up from your right. You quickly got startled when Tom appeared. He slammed the door against the wall of lockers to your right and then leaned against it.
You bookmarked your page before putting it in your locker face down. Tom’s signature smirk plastered on his lips.
“Oh hi, Tom.” You smiled nervously not knowing why he decided to approach you.
Tom never really approached anyone outside of his inner circle of friends. Being the star quarterback gave him leverage around the school, plus made him quite popular. Everyone knew who he was. So for him to approach you, someone who liked to keep to herself, and was at the bottom of the status level, it was a little surprising. You weren’t sure of what he wanted but you were about to find out.
“Can I help you?”
“I was just curious. Where did you get your sweater?” Tom said as if he was curious.
“My sweater? Oh, my mom bought it for me, it actu-”
Tom raised his hand to stop you. “I wasn’t actually interested, but nice to know mommy’s the one dressing you up for school.” He started laughing.
“Oh um, I–” You sputtered.
���I, uh, eh.” He mocked you. “Is there something wrong? Cat got your tongue sweetheart?”
“Is that all you wanted?” You muttered softly while you played with the hem of your sleeve.
Tom’s gaze lingered on you for a minute before he shot a glance behind your shoulder looking over at his buddies and his girlfriend who were laughing. The laugh was directed at you. They thought of you as a joke.
“Yeah…that’s all.” He brushed whatever he was feeling off and brought himself to let a laugh emit past his lips. His shoulder brushed yours as he began walking away, the contact causing you to fall into the lockers a bit. You followed his retreating form back to his friends. They were already staring at you, what else was new?
You turned back to your locker, grabbed your book, and placed it in your backpack. It wasn’t too long before the bell rang for your next class. Your class was in the direction where Tom and his friends were standing. You began walking, taking one step after another until you were close to them, that’s when you began walking by them faster. As you hurried along, you didn’t notice Tom’s girlfriend extending out her foot, which had you tripping over it in an instant. Your knees hit the ground harshly, the stinging of the pain flowing through your legs. As harsh as your landing was, the rest of the student body laughing at you was much harsher.
“What a joke!” Tom’s girlfriend laughed along with everyone else.
You gathered yourself onto your feet and quickly moved through the hallway away from everyone’s finger-pointing and cackling. Once you reached your class you felt like you could finally breathe again. You gave your focus on what you had been learning that day in class.
-
Tuesday.
As the next day came around you did your very best to avoid the jocks altogether. Mostly Tom. Who knew the star quarterback was a total jerk? Was jerk even enough to describe him? You shook your head at the thought as you tried to focus your attention back on your book. It was your fathers who passed away before your senior year. It seemed as though the book was the only thing that made him a part of you still. He still was, in your heart at least.
He read you the book every night before bedtime. Now all you could do was read it over and over again. As soon as you were down to the very last word of the page you were on, the book was swiped from your hands. Bringing you back from your inner thoughts you looked up to find
Tom. You looked up from your empty hands. You were never one to make a scene so all you did was sit on the floor there looking at him with furrowed brows.
“C-Can I have my book back please?” You muttered. You started playing with the hem of your sleeve again.
“Why don’t you come and get it.” Tom smirked as he started walking backwards. You looked at him worried. You glanced around noticing everyone in the library was minding their own business. There wasn’t anyone in the aisle you were in.
He wanted you to chase him, and you were under strict instructions from the doctor to not do any physical activities. Running included.
“I-I can’t, please can I just have my book back?” You pleaded softly as you stood up and stepped closer to him only to have him take one step back.
“Fine, you want your book…” Tom lifted his arm and threw it over your head. You turned around quickly. Standing behind you was a buddy of Tom’s with your book in his hands. You were shocked and outnumbered at this point.
“Can I please have my book back?” You stared at Tom’s friend with pleading eyes.
“Since you asked so nicely.” He smiled then threw the book over your head again. Tom caught it while laughing. The two of them continued this childish game of monkey in the middle.
The only thing you could feel and think at that moment was why…Why me?
“Tom please!” You begged this time. “I’ll do whatever you want just please hand it back…please.” You sighed in defeat.
Watching your shoulders slump down, Tom paused. His arm went back down. “Anything?” He asked with a hint of curiosity and something else you couldn’t pinpoint.
“Y-Yes.” You hesitate but answer him.
“Alright…” He smirked as he walked closer to you. “Kiss me.” He smirked cockily. “W-What?” You looked at him startled by his request.
“I’ll give you your book back if you kiss me.” Tom kept smirking.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” You asked, incredulous.
“Don't you want your book back, Y/n?”
“Yes.” Your voice was small.
It was just a kiss, right? No harm no foul.
Tom stood still as you took a step forward and placed your hands on his shoulder. You gulped nervously before leaning in to kiss him. You closed your eyes tightly as you pressed your lips to his slowly. Something inside Tom caused him to flutter his eyes and place his hands on your waist. The kiss only lasted for a minute, but that didn’t help the way Tom felt his stomach do flips.
Tom pulled back first watching the way your eyes were still closed and how your lips looked inviting. You opened your e/c eyes. Yes e/c, that’s what Tom immediately noticed about them. Then his gaze quickly averted behind you to Harrison, who was giving him a questioning look, and the very reason for teasing you came flooding back into his head.
Tom licked his lips and scoffed to play off what just happened. “You’re so easy.” He began laughing and handed you your book.
You grabbed it from his hand and curled it into your chest. “Thanks.” You glanced down at your feet.
“Yeah, whatever.” Tom shook his head and walked off with Harrison.
You slowly stopped at the end of the aisle and peeked to see Tom meet his girlfriend at the entrance of the library with a kiss. You watched him take her hand and head upstairs to the second floor of the library with smirks on their faces.
You sighed as you took your seat on the carpet again and began reading where you left off. This time without any interruptions.
-
Wednesday.
You were at lunch eating by yourself when Tom’s girlfriend approached you along with her little clique behind her. You were reading your dad’s book when you noticed her. You wanted to do everything you could to make yourself invisible, but the grip on her smoothie was making you anxious.
You placed your bookmark back on the page you were reading and gave her your attention. “Can I help you?” You asked her softly.
“Actually, you can.” Harper sat down in front of you with a smile that screamed trouble.
“O-Okay.”
Awe she’s adorable, Harper thought. “So Sally-” She started.
“It’s Y/n.” You laughed nervously.
“Whatever. Look I know you’re a sweet girl and all, but you sure do lead people on. Making them believe you’re all innocent.” She put her hands together on the table.
“W-What?” You shrunk a little. “What are you talking-” You began but she cut you off.
-
“Hey Tom, what’s Harper doing with the freak?” Harrison pointed out motioning over Tom’s shoulder.
“What?” Tom furrowed his brows and turned around in his seat. That’s when he saw his girlfriend seated in front of you. His heart dropped a little, but he didn’t let anyone see that. “Who knows…she’s probably helping the poor girl out. She’s got to update that wardrobe of hers. Harper's probably just giving her some pointers, right?” He chuckled bumping shoulders with his buddy on his right.
“You're probably right. That sweater does hide her well. You think she’s got any?” Harrison laughed.
“Got what?” Tom asked.
“You know…” Harrison made a gesture over his chest.
“Harrison, no mate, just no. Quit being a perv you div. Your mother taught you better than that.” Tom shook his head
“I’m just saying…” Harrison raised his hands in surrender.
-
“-So a little birdy told me about your little stunt in the library. I’m not one to get jealous seeing as there is no one good enough for my Tommy, but I do get mad when little girls like you think you can take our boyfriends.” Harper stared you down.
“No, no, look you got it all wrong. He tricked me, he kissed me first. I would never do that. I’m not like that!” You began rambling already feeling like this whole conversation was going to take a turn.
“That’s the thing though, you all say the same thing before you pounce…” She trailed off before standing up, and right as she turned her back for a second, she said. “Oh yeah, one more thing...” Harper swirled around and threw the smoothie at you. The contents spilling all over you, and your book.
You gasped as you tried wiping the drink away from your eyes. It started stinging and irritating your eyes quickly. You stood up slowly, but even that caused you to slip a little. You finally looked up, and at that moment you wished you hadn’t. Half of the student body was either staring at you or taking a video of you. The rest were laughing at you. Your eyes stopped on a certain someone, and all they could do was stare at you. You averted your gaze back to Harper.
“I-I’m sorry.” Your voice grew small. You didn’t care anymore that phones were flashing at you or that people were cackling at you again.
“I’m not.” Harper laughed.
You quickly turned your head to collect your bag, and as you did so. Harper snatched the book from the table and hid it behind her back. You turned back and left without saying another word. Harper waved you goodbye, laughing as you slipped again right before exiting the cafeteria. “That should keep her away.”
“Nice one Harper.”
“Maybe she'll rethink her intentions before she kisses Tom again.” She giggled and walked towards Tom.
“Hey, baby.” She placed herself on his lap and kissed him deeply. “Did you see that freakshow, my goodness what a joke.” She laughed as Tom wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Don’t you think you went a little too far?” Tom tilted his head.
“Of course not, besides, I had to let her know who you belong to.” She leaned forward and caught his lower lip with her teeth biting on them gently before pulling back.
Harper smiled and turned her gaze to Harrison. “Hey, Harrison, happy birthday.” She giggled as she threw him your book.
“It’s not my birthday, though,” Harrison said. Tom quickly recognized it and grabbed it.
“You took her book?” He furrowed his brows in question.
“I don’t know, the freak left it behind. Did you see her face? I got her so good!” Harper's eyes widened. A smile dawning her features.
“Yeah, I did, hey why don’t I take it and the next time I get her alone, I’ll taunt her with it.” He turned to Harper.
“Oh, that's a good idea.” Harper got off his lap. “I’ll see you in a bit?”
“Yeah, I just remembered I have to go do something. Sorry, I’ll make it up to you.” Tom got up from the table and pecked her lips quickly. “Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll see you tonight then?”
“Yeah.” Tom smiled and walked out of the cafeteria with your book. Leaving Harper and Harrison by themselves since the rest of their group left. The cafeteria was deserted apart from the lunch ladies, but they were too busy in the back of the kitchen.
Harper sighed. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”
“No, not a clue.” Harrison dismissed her question quickly.
-
Thursday.
After what happened yesterday. Tom held onto your book. He had the urge to approach you and return it, but he found another way. Then he was reminded of the way his friends might react or the way they might tease him. The pressure was always on him. Whether it be leading his team to a win, or trying to keep his friends. Now the pressure was directed towards you and whether or not he would tease and taunt you.
“Tom and Y/n…” Tom looked upright as the teacher called your names. He looked around until he found you in your seat. Others around him began laughing quietly and whispering amongst themselves. Expressing their pity to him for being paired with you. You slowly sunk into your chair as you felt everyone staring at you. They already thought you were trying to steal Harper’s boyfriend, now you knew this little class pairing would spread around to Harper.
No avoiding the tension now, you thought.
As the teacher finished calling the rest of the names, the bell rang letting everyone know they were dismissed which in your case, was a free period. You collected your notebook and placed it in your bag. After you were all packed you exited the room and started your walk to the library.
“Hey, Y/n wait up!” You stiffened up as you heard his voice. You cringed slightly as people stopped to look at you. You turned around slowly and faced him.
“Y-Yes?”
“Listen I um…” He was going to say sorry, but Harper caught his attention from down the hall, and he sighed.
“Yes?” You repeated, wanting him to let it out.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to help out with the project. I would love to help you, but I got a lot on my plate, ya know.” He chuckled as if you understood where he was coming from. “With practice and the stacks of homework, I got, I’m slammed. If you could not tell Mr. Stevenson about it that’d be great. Don’t want him thinking I made you do all the work now do we?”
“Y-You want me to do the whole project?” You asked quickly, getting upset.
“It doesn’t seem like it’s going to be hard, you’re a smart girl Y/n. Look I gotta get to practice, but let me know how it goes, okay.” He threw you a gentle smile, and you almost believed he thought you were smart. “Hey, Harper wait up!” He called his girlfriend’s name.
You sighed and walked slowly to the library. You wanted to read your dad’s book, but you didn’t have it anymore. You also wanted to brainstorm ideas with Tom, but he blew you off and left it all for you to do. As you got to the library you placed your things down at your designated table and started getting your notebook out.
“Hello, Y/n.” You looked up at the librarian who now stood in front of your table. “Hi Grace, how are you today?” You smiled sweetly at the old lady.
“Oh, I’m fine dear, how are you though?” Grace knew what you were going through and she knew about your cancer. One or some few you’ve only told this to.
“Taking it one day at a time…I’m still waiting for a good day.” You halfheartedly laughed.
“You know every day may not always be the greatest, but there are small great things within that day. So, anything good happen, today?” She smiled softly.
“This cute guy was assigned to be my partner for a project.” You smiled but it quickly faded.
“What’s wrong with that?!”
“He’s the guy that’s been making my life hell, and now I'm left to do this project on my own...” You mumble quietly towards the end to yourself.
“Oh, I see…” She nodded. “Ya know, guys usually pick on girls they like.” She teased with a smirk.
“Trust me, he doesn’t like me.”
“I beg to differ.” Grace brought around something that she was hiding behind her back into your view. It was your book. Your dad’s book. You gasped as you slowly took it from her hand.
“W-Where did you get this?” You looked at her with curiosity.
“My lips are sealed, honey.” She zipped her lips with her pointer finger and thumb and threw away the fake key.
“Thank you.” You smiled.
“Of course, dear, enjoy the rest of your day.”
“I will.” You laughed with a breath.
You glanced down at the book and caressed the edges. Apart from the worn-out pages and the faded smoothie stains, the book was just fine. No tears or anything. It wasn’t ruined and you were glad Harper didn’t do anything more to it.
-
Friday.
Out of breath. That’s what you were feeling. Your chest was heaving up and down and your body was growing tired. This had to be the worst day of all for you. No physical activities. That’s what your doctor told you, and now you were running. The one thing that you shouldn’t have been doing.
“T-Tom!” You yelled after him as you were currently chasing him down the halls of the school. People were pushing themselves against the lockers and walls not wanting to get pushed out the way. The look of determination on your face was enough to let people know not to push you any more than Tom was doing.
As stupid as it may have been he took your backpack. Who would take a backpack?! Tom, that’s who. He caught you off guard when he snagged it and took off running. That’s when you took off in a sprint. And now if you didn’t stop you felt like you’d probably throw up or something.
“T-Tom just give it back please!” You said out of breath.
“Oh come on now, Y/n. You can’t be that tired now.” He chuckled as a crowd started gathering. Tom was on the last step of the stairs that led to the second floor of the school, which did not look inviting at all. “You want the backpack, come get it.” Tom started going up the stairs.
Taunting you as you took small steps to the stairs.
You paused, placing your hands on your knees. Looking down at your feet trying to control your breathing. You almost did a double-take when you noticed a small drop of red hit the ground.
You quickly brought your hand up to your nose and removed it as you realized you were bleeding. Your heart was thumping loudly in your ears and all the loud laughter coming from everyone was causing you to panic. You were growing overwhelmed and a little dizzy now.
“Looks like the freak can’t handle a joke. Go on, it’s your time to shine. Go after my boyfriend, go get your stuff, before I flush it down the toilet.” It was Harper’s voice that you heard off to your left. You were still facing the stairs, but you didn’t move.
“Come on Y/n. Unless nothing in here actually matters to you.” Tom smirked. You finally looked up at him and he immediately took notice of the dried blood beginning to drip down the edge of your nose. The dazed look you were giving him made him straighten up.
“Y/n?” His voice sounded muffled and right as you took a step forward you were falling to the ground.
You crashed to the ground hard and the crowd grew silent as they suddenly realized what happened. Tom’s breath hitched in the back of his throat as he stood motionless. It wasn’t until a girl pushed her way to the front of the crowd and rushed to your side.
“Oh my god, Y/n.” She shook you awake and then looked at everyone else. “Why the hell are you all standing there? Call an ambulance, oh my god, Y/n. Help!” She yelled at everyone who just stood there.
Tom then finally rushed down to your side and lifted your head on his lap. “Y/n? Can you hear me?”
“Tom, what the hell are you doing?!” Harper grew angry.
“Harper shut the hell up and get a teacher!” Tom looked at everyone who stood there pissed. “Quit standing there and move!” Everyone scrambled then and there.
A couple of seconds passed and Mr. Stevenson and Grace came rushing down the hall along with the principal.
“How did this happen?” The principal cut right to the point.
“She-” Alice began, but Tom cut her off.
“It was my fault, sir. I pushed her too far, and she fainted.” Tom admitted taking full responsibility for everything.
“Holland, come with me.” The principal motioned with his finger leading him to his office. “Mr. Stevenson stay with her until the paramedics get here.”
“I will sir.” So that left Grace, Alice, and Mr. Stevenson with you, unconscious.
“Hang in there kid, help is on its way.” Grace held onto your hand brushing away falling hairs from your face.
-
“Want to explain to me what happened back there?” The principal stood with his hands on his hips. Tom remained quiet as he stared at his lap. The principal sighed and sat at the edge of his desk in front of Tom. “I know Thomas...”
Tom perked his head up. “What do you mean sir?”
“I don’t know about you, son, but I don’t tolerate students tormenting other students, especially when that student happens to be very sick. Some of your classmates have told me about how you’ve been treating Miss Y/L/N for the past couple of days this week.”
“Sick? What are you talking about?” Tom sat up straighter in his chair, fully worried and curious. Principal Johnson furrowed his brows at his question.
“Are you not aware of her condition Mr. Holland?”
Tom furrowed his brows. “Condition?”
Principal Johnson sighed, bringing his forefinger and thumb up to the bridge of his nose. “Miss Y/L/N has cancer, Mr. Holland.” Tom’s heart sank then and there.
“I didn’t…I didn’t know.”
“Would your actions have been any different if you did? This was all on you, son, and from the looks of it, it didn’t look like you were going to stop.”
“I know that saying sorry isn’t going to make up for it-”
“You’re right it’s not. I don’t currently have any sort of punishment for your behavior, so we’ll discuss it further on Monday next week. But as of right now I only ask that you won’t ever do that sort of thing again. Don’t think I am letting you off the hook that easily Holland, a phone call will still be made to your parents.”
“Of course…” Tom nodded slowly, fully accepting his punishments to come.
“And one more thing…I’m benching you for the rest of the season’s games. I’ll notify your coach immediately.” Tom bit the inside of his cheek, nodding, feeling guilty about it all. “I expected more from you kid. Hopefully, all of this will make you rethink what you’ve done.”
Tom stood up. “Me too.” And left.
-
“Oh, my sweet baby girl.” Your mom sat on your side of the bed caressing your hair as you were slowly coming to.
“M-Mom?” You rasped out.
“Hi sweetie, how’re you feeling?” Your mom furrowed her brows.
“My head kind of hurts.” You squint your eyes as you sit up slowly.
“Well, you did have quite the fall.”
“I fell?”
“You don’t remember?” You shook your head no.
“Well, all that matters is that you’re alright.”
“Y-Yeah.” You frowned sadly.
“What’s wrong sweetie?”
“R-Remember when you asked me…you asked if anything was going on at school.”
“Yes…”
“I lied.” You looked up at her with teary eyes.
“What happened, sweetie?” Your mom soothed you.
“Well…it’s a long story.” You looked up at her.
“Lay it out.” Then you began telling her all that happened this week, from the start of Monday to what happened today that caused you to fall. Your mom would now know of everything.
-
Saturday.
You were allowed to go home after the doctor gave you the okay. They wanted to make sure nothing else was wrong, and that you were fine. Safe to say you were and now here you were curled up on the couch with your favorite blanket watching Tv. Your mom was in the kitchen cooking up something to eat for the two of you.
Apart from the arrangements of flowers that were left outside your porch when you arrived home, everything was pretty much back to normal. Well not so much, everyone at school kept sending you gifts and apologized over and over again. You were sympathetic, forgave them, and told them that it was okay and that they didn’t know, so no harm or foul right? Much to your mom’s disagreement, she thought that your classmates could go to hell, but you didn’t give that a second thought and let it go quickly.
Right as you were going to turn up the volume the doorbell rang. You looked back at your mom and you shared a look, yours of amusement and hers of annoyance.
“Wonder who that could be?” She said sarcastically moving towards the door.
You snuggled back onto the couch and heard the faint voices of your mom and someone talking. A couple of minutes passed and your mom came trolling back into the living room holding yet another gift basket that you were given. You sat up with a smile, and your mom sat across from you watching you open the basket and going through the assortment of goodies that were inside.
You finally looked up, face stuffed with a chocolate muffin. “What?” Your voice was muffled.
“Nothing sweetie, I’m just glad you’re happy is all.”
“You love this mom.” You laughed.
“Fine you’re right, I do!” She laughed with you and went through the basket herself.
You looked at all the other gift baskets that adorned your living room. “What are we going to do with all these?” You chuckled as you motioned around the room.
“Well from all the stuff they’re sending us, I don’t have to go shopping for another week.” She joked.
You gasped and hit her shoulder playfully. “Mom!”
“I will never get over how you see so much good in others, Y/n. They treated you unfairly, yet you forgave them so easily.”
“What would be the point in holding a grudge? Yeah, they weren’t exactly nice, but I only have so long left. I’d rather enjoy my time with kindness, not hatred.” You smiled.
“Oh come here!” Your mom blinked quickly not wanting tears to fall down her face. “I love you so much...”
“I love you too, mom.”
-
Sunday.
You and your mom were enjoying your weekend together by eating ice cream and watching chick flicks. You were getting to the good part of the movie when you heard the engine of a car pull up. You looked at your mom right as she turned to look at you with a knowing smile.
Your mom ran to the window sill looking out.
“He’s back.” Your mom eyed the boy as she stuffed her mouth with another spoonful of cookies n’ cream. You quickly got up and ran to her side watching as he opened the trunk of his car unloading four more arrangements of flowers. You smiled at the gesture he was making. Your guess was this was his way of apologizing. You both stared as he made his way up to the porch and began placing more flower baskets and vases down gently. He stopped for a second and rearranged one of the vases and moved them to another spot.
“Ya know if he keeps this up we’re not going to have any way to leave the house. He’s filling up the porch quite nicely huh.” Your mom teased licking her spoon that was backward. “I’m allergic to bees, remember?” She giggled. “It’s cute though, what he’s doing for you. I don’t think any boy has ever done that for you.” She nudged your arm playfully.
“Shhh.” You observed as he crouched down and organized the flowers. You considered this the perfect moment and removed the blanket from around your shoulders and set it on the couch. You headed towards the door and slipped your shoes on.
“Make sure to give him a big kiss.” Your mom giggled.
“Not another word from you.” You pointed at her and then opened the door.
The sound of the front door unlocking caught Tom’s attention and he stood up startled. He watched in shock as you walked out and closed the door behind you. Once you finally turned around it was like he couldn’t find his words or breathe properly.
“Hi.” You smiled at him gently.
“H-Hey.” He breathed out nervously.
You smiled and looked at all the flowers he brought you. You hadn’t gone outside to see them for yourself. Only staying inside. Your smile grew bigger when you spotted your favorite flower amongst the dozen other ones. You turned your gaze back to him.
“It’s beautiful, thank you.”
“Of course. I’m glad you like them.”
“You should probably stop though.”
“W-What?” Tom grew nervous.
“I don’t think my porch has any more room for arrangements. Where would you even put them?” You giggled as you looked around. He really did fill up the entire two sides of the porch, only leaving a path from the door to the steps. “Plus...my mom’s allergic to bees.”
“Oh! Yeah, I guess I did go a little...overboard.” Tom cringed as he scratched the back of his neck.
“It’s sweet of you though. No one’s ever done this for me…” You trailed off smiling shyly at your shoes.
It was quiet for a couple of seconds before he spoke up. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”
You smiled up at him. “You didn’t know, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, yes it was, and you have every right to hate me, okay.”
“I forgive you, Tom, seriously it’s okay.” You laughed as he kept beating himself up. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Y/n.”
“Well, that’s too bad because I’m giving it to you. I…I don’t hate you, Tom.”
“But I treated you so horribly…all the things I did and said, I…I caused you to fall.” Tom’s voice cracked and he looked at you.
“It’s not your fault. It’s not, okay. I’m fine, see.” You cupped his face. “I’m fine Tom. I’m okay.” You didn’t know what made you so bold all of a sudden, but you pressed your foreheads together.
Tom closed his eyes and steadied his breathing to the rhythm of yours. When his eyes opened back up he saw your eyes. Your e/c eyes. They were so beautiful. His eyes then trailed down to your lips. A sudden pull caused him to lean in. You leaned in too. You let it happen. This time it wasn’t to get your book back. This kiss was the real thing. And you loved it. You smiled into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Tom’s hands remained on your hips, but he tugged them forward to press you closer to him.
When you both pulled away you were flushed. Your lips were a little swollen. Tom didn’t dare untangle his arms that were wrapped around you.
“I don’t care how long it takes. I’m going to keep making it up to you.”
“Tom-”
“No, I mean it. I was horrible to you, and just cause I’m leaving these small things for you, still doesn’t make what I did acceptable. It wasn’t right.”
“When did you realize all this?” You smiled gently.
“When I made you kiss me that day in the library. I took your first kiss from you. It wasn’t fair of me to do that to you.”
“Who says that was my first kiss?” You smirked teasingly.
“I... I just had a feeling.”
“So you had a feeling that no one’s ever kissed me before. Am I that much of a loser?”
“What?! No of course not, you are so kissable, and beautiful, and you deserve so many-”
“Tom, Tom.” You laughed, cutting him off.
“Y-Yeah.”
“Don’t hurt yourself....” You pulled him in and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.
“I don’t deserve you.” He pressed his head against yours.
“I think you’re a bit hard on yourself Tom. You deserve a lot more than you think.”
“I don't...but you do.” He muttered. "You don't mean that?"
“I mean it.” You closed your eyes letting him kiss you again. This one was slower, and sweet, displaying how each of you felt about each other.
-
Sunday had been one of those days that you never expected to happen. Then again you hadn’t expected Tom to end up kissing you after a week filled with his tormenting and bullying. There was no doubt you were still kind of cautious around him, he just spent the whole weekend feeling guilty. You didn't know what Monday would bring.
Could it be more of his bullying?
Was this just a front so people wouldn’t hate him?
Was he actually trying to change for the greater good?
Did he truly want to make it up to you?
Did he really have feelings for you?
You didn’t know...
-
Monday.
After what happened on Sunday you weren’t sure how things were going to go at school. Your mom had suggested you stay at home, but even she knew that you wouldn’t agree, you were too much of a good student to miss school, even if you did faint not more than three days ago. You were in the middle of putting your books and notes into your bag when the doorbell rang. Your head turned towards the door. You were confused. No one ever really came this early, especially to your house. You walked up to the door and unlocked it. When the door swung open the person who stood behind the door was not who you were expecting it to be.
“Tom?” Your eyes widen in surprise.
Tom smiled sheepishly as his hands were in his front pockets. He shifted from foot to foot, as he grew nervous.
“Hey.” He said as his eyes shined. His stance was curious and timid.
“What are you doing here?” You held onto the door as you asked him.
“I...do you, would you-” He began stuttering.
“Yes?” You smiled. Tom gulped as he noticed you smiling at the stuttering mess that was himself.
“Do you- you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought it’d be a good idea for us- which you don’t have to say yes to. I know I haven’t been the best to you, and it’s probably too early anyway-” Tom rubbed his neck as he kept gesturing to you and what you believed was his car that he was pointing at. Two and two clicked together in your head making you smile at his offer. He kept stumbling over his words.
Just like you had done yesterday, you stopped him before he could hurt himself.
“-Tom, Tom.” You reached forward grabbing a hold of his arms to get his attention. “I would love it if you gave me a ride to school.” You giggled as he looked at you shocked.
Your laugh making his heart melt. “You would?”
You nodded. “Yes, I would. Thanks...” You muttered as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his cheek.
Tom closed his eyes as he enjoyed the sweet affection you gave him. He didn’t want to tell you right away.
“You’re welcome.” He spoke softly as he gazed at you with adoration.
“I just need to grab my things.” You motioned back inside the house. “Come in.”
“Okay.” Tom breathed as he quickly entered after you. He closed the door standing awkwardly, not knowing what to do. He only took a few steps inside your house. The living room caught his eye. A couple of pictures of you and what he assumed was your mom stood out to him.
However, one picture did catch his eye. It was one of you and your mom at the hospital. Tom assumed that this was taken a while back since you didn’t seem to have hair in this picture. What he couldn’t help but notice was the way you were smiling. You looked worn down, but he probably would have never known that by the happiness showing in your eyes. “Chemo.”
Tom was brought out of his daze as he whirled around to see you standing beside him. A grip on your backpack, preventing it from falling.
“What?” Pure innocence in his eyes causes you to smile lightly.
“That was taken at the end of my chemo. It was almost a while ago.” You ran a hand through your short hair. A habit you began doing after your hair grew back. It was growing back slowly, but you were slowly withering away. You didn’t mind it being short. You quite liked it this way. “Hence the hair.” You shrugged nonchalantly while lifting the edges of your hair.
Tom didn’t say anything, he only continued to gaze at you with a look you couldn’t pinpoint. “I never would have noticed.” Tom shook his head slightly. He motioned to your hair. “It looks...nice. It always has...” He smiled genuinely.
"Always?" Your heart melts.
Tom grew flustered. “I uh-” He laughed nervously.
“Have you been secretly keeping track of my hair?” You teased him with a smile. “Since when?”
"Since...middle school." He scratched his neck. You hadn't expected an actual answer.
“Oh.” That was all you could say as you blushed slightly.
Tom glanced at his feet before he looked up at you again. “Ready to go?”
“Mhmm.” You smiled as you placed your hand in his that he extended out to you.
You let go of his hand once you were outside. Quickly locking the door, then taking his hand again as you made your way to his car.
Tom followed you to the passenger side and opened the door for you. You smiled sweetly at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled down at you as you were seated inside. He closed your door and made his way to the driver's side, getting in and starting up the engine.
“Good?” He asked you as you finished buckling yourself.
“Yeah.” You smiled.
“Okay.” Tom quickly glanced behind his shoulders. Left then right making sure there weren’t any cars coming, then slowly reversing out the driveway. Turning the wheel and putting the car in drive, you both began making your way towards school.
-
As the weekend passed Harper couldn’t help but feel hurt at the way Tom yelled at her. Sure he was angry, but he didn’t need to yell at her. Feeling like it was her fault that he wasn’t answering any of her messages, she wanted nothing more than to fix things between them. And what better way to do that, than in person in front of the whole school? Harper loved the attention, but she was determined to make you jealous. She was determined to show you who you were messing with, even if you ended up fainting again.
“So what happened again between you and Tom?” One of Harper’s friends asked her.
“Nothing happened Hannah. We just had a bit of a complication…” Harper fluffed up her curls. She pursed her lips and gazed at herself through her locker mirror. “Don’t worry, Tom and I are good as new again,” Harper smirked as she applied another layer of her cherry lip gloss. She popped her lips when she was satisfied with her appearance.
“You guys are great together. Compatible in every way.” Heather fed the beast- I mean Harper with praises and compliments. “Job well done Harper.”
“Thanks, Heather, I am incredibly lucky to have such a great guy like Tom.” Harper bit her lip as flashes of Tom and her in her room popped up in her head.
“Looks like your luck ran out..” Hannah said.
“What? Why would you even say that Hannah!” Harper gaped at her. Hannah only replied by motioning over Harper’s shoulder with her head.
Confused by her words Harper and Heather turned around to see what Hannah was talking about. As she did, her breath slightly hitched. As if her day couldn’t get any worse, she now had to see her boyfriend walk into the building with his hand intertwined with yours.
“Oh yeah, good as new alright.” Hannah mocked her.
“Shut up, Hannah!” Harper snapped at her.
“Hey, you’re the one who said you two were fine. It’s not my fault you can’t keep track of your boyfriend, well looks like your ex-boyfriend now.” Hannah put her hands up in defense.
“Oh no, don’t expect that-” She pointed at you and Tom standing at your locker. “-is going to last. Tom just probably feels bad about what happened on Friday. He can be quite sympathetic sometimes, this is just one of those times.”
“If you say so Harp,” Heather spoke up this time. “Let’s hope you’re right about this. You still need a date to prom after all.” She reminded Harper.
“Don’t worry, he’s going to wish he never held her hand,” Harper smirked evilly as she closed her locker. She picked up her bag and walked in the opposite direction from where you two stood. Heather and Hannah followed closely behind her.
-
“People are staring.” You muttered to Tom as you grabbed your backpack from him. You switched out your science and history books, for your Algebra and Literature books.
“Yeah…” He trailed off as he turned his head towards the lingering eyes on you and him. He frowned as he caught Harper throwing him a scowl before she walked away.
“A-Are you sure you want to be seen with me?” You frowned. Tom looked back at you furrowing his brows at your question.
“Of course I do.” He dipped his head as you avoided his gaze. “Y/n, look at me.” You looked up. “If there is one thing that I am certain about, it’s wanting to be with you.”
“Really, 'cause it's only been two days since your mind changed about how you felt about me?” You whispered, not being able to help your accusatory tone.
“Really.” He pecked your forehead. “Come on now, let’s get you to class.” He smiled as he lightly tugged on your hand. "Come on..."
“Okay.” You smiled sheepishly as you closed your locker. As Tom began tugging you down the hall, you both were abruptly stopped.
“Mr. Holland.” A voice spoke up from behind you. Tom closed his eyes as he recognized who the voice belonged to.
“Principal Johnson.” Tom sighed as he turned around, letting go of your hand.
“Do you know what today is, boy?”
“Monday sir.”
“It’s Monday! Come on, my office.” Principal Johnson motioned with his hand as he turned around, already heading to his office.
Tom turned to you. “Library, third period?” He asked with hope.
You nodded. “Go before you get into more trouble.” You playfully pushed him. He leaned forward and pecked your cheek before scurrying off after the principal. You blushed as you made your way to your first class.
-
“So Miss Y/L/N huh?” Principal Johnson asked as he fiddled with his pen.
“Sir I-”
“You sure you know what you’re doing boy?”
“I do, I do sir.” Tom nodded furiously.
“Because it looks like you’re trying to use her to get yourself out of your punishment. Like she’s your in, to get on my good side.”
“No, that’s not…that’s not it sir. I swear. It’s not like that.” Tom stumbled with his words.
“Then explain it to me, son.”
“With all due respect, sir…I’m not quite comfortable talking about my feelings to you.”
“Feelings you say?” Principal Johnson raised his eyebrows almost as if in amusement.
“I promise Principal Johnson. I would never truly honestly intend for Y/n to get hurt. I lo- I couldn’t forgive myself if anything else happens to her.” Tom stared at his lap as the guilt still ran through him. You forgave him, but he didn’t feel that he deserved to be forgiven, in such a short amount of time too. He wanted to make it up to you.
“But something did happen, and you were the cause of it.” Principal Johnson reminded him. Tom nodded his head.
Principal Johnson stared at the boy feeling bad. At some point and time, he was in the same position Tom was. So in love with a girl that it ate him up. Willing to do anything for her. He sympathized with the boy.
“Here’s what I am going to do, Tom.” Tom raised his head. “You’re still benched for the season.”
“Right...” Tom sighed.
“And you still need to be punished.”
“Right…” Tom nodded slowly wanting to know where he was going with this.
“So as your punishment, you’re going to be helping out in the Library. Ya know, checking out books, shelving books, that usual stuff.”
“Oh, wow!” Tom perked up as he realized he’d be seeing you more often now.
“Yeah?” Principal Johnson eyed him weirdly but brushed it off quickly. “I’ll let Grace know you’ll be on your way to begin helping her.”
“Is that all?” Tom was surprised at how that went well. “Well, unless you have a better suggestion for a punishment?”
“No, no, I don’t. Thank you for my punishment. I’ll be on my way, sir.” Tom stood up and started opening the door when he was stopped.
“Thomas.” Tom looked back, at Principal Johnson. “Be good to her son.”
“I will...” Tom nodded then left.
-
As he promised, Tom met you in the library after the third period ended. You were buried deep in one of the aisles in the very back of the library preoccupied with your dad’s book.
Tom walked into the library wanting to see you but finding you nowhere in sight. This came to Grace’s attention as she noticed him enter.
“You lost honey?” She teased as she set down the books she was shelving.
“Hey Grace, you’ve seen Y/n?” Tom held onto the strap of his backpack as he shuffled from foot to foot.
“Can I ask why?” Grace already knew what had happened between you two. You told her yourself. She wanted to give him a hard time just for the fun of it.
“I uh-”
“You here to pick on the poor girl because if you are I’ll have no problem calling Principal Johnson.”
“No, no, no…” Tom’s eyes widened as he grew nervous and a little scared. “I’m not here to bully her, I swear. Grace, I swear I don’t want to hurt her. You don’t understand…” Watching Tom become flustered and nervous made her laugh. The sound startled him.
“I’m just messing with you.” She dismissed him with her hand. “She’s in the back.” She motioned to the side of the library you were at. Grace then went back to shelving some books like nothing ever happened.
Standing there stunned and a little nervous. Tom eyed Grace wearily as he slowly took a step in your direction. “T-Thank you.” He stuttered then took off to find you. Grace chuckled as he scurried off.
Tom swore that he was getting whiplash by how quickly he was turning his head left and right as he passed every aisle. “Y/n!” He whispered as he kept going down the aisles in the middle of the two sides of the shelves. He turned his head right, then left, and right as he did he was being yanked to the right side. He yelped slightly as he ended up losing his balance falling on top of you.
You groaned. “Oh, get off your heavy.” You push against him.
Tom feigned a fake hurt gasp as he propped himself on his elbows to hover above you. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” He chuckled.
“Sorry.” You giggled.
“It’s okay you caught me off guard is all.”
“So you were distracted?” You bit your lip in amusement.
“Yeah, trying to find you.” He glanced at your eyes and then down at your lips.
“Well, you found me...” You placed your hand on his neck.
“I did…” Tom trailed off as he lowered his lips onto yours. The kiss was slow and sweet. Nothing rough or quick about it. Tom pulled back, sitting up.
You frowned at the loss of contact. You took his extended hand and as you were fully sat up, he grabbed you by the waist and tugged you onto his lap making you squeal.
“Tom?” You giggled as he peppered your neck with wet kisses. The feeling was nothing like you’ve ever felt before, it was new, and you knew you wanted to experience it more often.
Before things escalated Tom took his lips off your neck.
“Okay, okay, I’m stopping. I’m stopping.” Tom whispered as a smile made its way onto his lips. Tom gulped as he began telling you what the principal told him. “So, Principal Johnson gave me my punishment.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, he thought it’d be a good idea for me to spend some quality time with the girl I like in the library.” Tom smiled cheekily.
“Tom seriously, tell me.” You playfully slapped his shoulder.
“He talked to Grace, and now I’m going to be helping out in here.” He smiled as your eyes widened.
“Are you serious? You hate the library though?” You laughed in disbelief.
“Not really. If anything it’s kind of growing on me.” He smiled as he twirled the ends of your hair around his finger.
“I get to see you more?” You blushed.
“That’s right.” He teased. “Get used to me Y/L/N, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“However will I survive!” You smiled as you both leaned in for a kiss.
“Tom!” Tom pulled back, startled by Grace calling out for him.
“Shit!” He scrambled up to his feet. The sight alone caused you to laugh. “Coming Grace!” He quickly helped you to your feet. “I’ll see you later?” The same kind of hope in his eyes.
“Go before you lose it.” You giggled. Tom pecked you one more time and ran off towards Grace to begin helping. You shook your head. Tom was surely something else.
-
Tuesday.
The following day Tom did the same thing. He picked you up in the morning and then drove the both of you to school. Almost believing for a second that things were going to be better the next day was an understatement. People still stared at you two as you walked into school hand in hand. Whispers going around amongst your classmates. Tom, not thinking too much of it, continued to smile at you.
“What do you say?”
“Huh?” You finally realized that he was talking to you.
Tom chuckled and shook his head. “I asked if you wanted to eat lunch together during third period.” Tom bit his lip trying not to let his smile show how much he was excited to spend time with you. When he noticed the worried look on your face he frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Tom was not so sure that it was true. “Actually can I be honest?”
“Of course.” He nodded assuring you.
“You have been my crush for a very long time…” You smiled. He did too. “I always considered the possibility of you and me ending up together a one-in-a-million chance. Yet here I am, and here you are. We’re together.” You chuckled. “Our feelings are mutual and it’s the weirdest feeling in the world because you’re Tom, this great guy, and I’m just me, the cancer girl.” You shrugged. “And I never would have thought that you’d actually see me.”
“I’ve always seen you-”
“And now that we’re together it feels like a risky thing because I'm sick and we're from two different worlds-”
“We’re no different than everybody else Y/n.” Tom bit his lip and shook his head. “So what if I want to be with you? I want to be with you, Y/n. What’s the harm in that?”
“My cancer. Your friends...” You glanced over his shoulder then brought your eyes back to his. Tom glanced over his shoulder and frowned as he realized his buddies were watching him. “They don’t control the way I feel, Y/n. You’re the best thing that has happened to me.” Tom cupped your face and leaned in. The kiss was slow, but a little more love felt. When you pulled away you felt a bit upset. “What’s wrong?”
“Did you just kiss me because you wanted to or because your friends are watching?”
Tom pulled away, slightly a bit hurt by your words. “Because I want to…Y/n I would never do that to you, I promise.”
“Okay...” Your voice grew small as you slowly lifted your head to look at him.
“I don't want to hurt you in any way anymore.” Tom leaned forward and pecked your cheek. “I’ll see you for lunch okay.” He pecked your forehead. You both moved along in the hallway stopping in front of the library. Your hand lingered in his for a bit before you let go.
“I’ll be where I usually sit.” You dazed off.
“Okay.” Tom nodded. “I should probably get inside, Grace needed some help moving a couple of things around.”
“Well, I’ll let you get to it then.” You let go of his hand and began walking backward.
“I love you.” He told you.
“Too soon, Holland.” You breathed out a laugh and finally turned around to walk to your next class. You were never going to make it to lunch.
"Nah...I love you." Tom called after you.
-
When Tom reached the library he got to work right away. Helping Grace out wherever she needed him to. If Tom was being honest, he was starting to enjoy spending time surrounded by books. It even got to the point where he could understand why you loved this place so much. A lifetime of stories right in front of him to read. He could hear your voice, the way you explained the adventure of a good book that you had read.
“It’s about the journey it takes you on. From the beginning, all the way to the very end. It’s exciting.” You’d say. “The thrill of not knowing what’s going to happen next. That has to be my favorite part.” You would end the sentence with a smile.
In a way, your words explain your relationship perfectly. In the beginning, you two didn’t start out on a positive note, but the things that have happened next have been indescribable and one of the best things that have happened. Now all that was left was the rest of your journey together, right to the very end. He was nervous about what the rest of the ride would bring him, but Tom hadn’t been more thrilled about something since the time he landed a backflip. He wanted to continue forward no matter the obstacles that he and you faced.
Tom bit his lip as he smiled at the thought. He wants this, he wants everything. The whole package. All of you. He’s ready!
“So this is what you’re doing instead of trying to get back on the team.” Tom’s hand paused midway as he was shelving a book. The familiarity of the voice had him smirking. Of course, he had the nerve to speak to him now.
“Nice to see you too, Harrison.” Tom looked over his shoulder to see him leaning against the shelf of books behind him.
“Seriously mate?” Harrison furrowed his eyebrows at the brunette.
“What Harrison?” Tom set down the books and spun around to face the blonde.
“What are you doing, Tom? You were the star quarterback. You had the girl. You had everything.” Harrison slumped his shoulders. He shook his head.
“None of it is going to matter in a couple of years? It’s just a position. Harper is just a girl who only wants to be with me to make herself look good. And you’re wrong, I don't have everything. I don’t have everything and I’m fine. You know what I do have though, clarity. Clarity that my friends care more about popularity than being decent fucking human beings.” Tom shook his head and turned around.
“Just like you’re suddenly fine getting all close with Y/n. Have you forgotten about how much of a freak she is?” Harrison chuckled at the fallen expression Tom had. “Don’t you remember our little deal?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Tom brushed off the ache he suddenly felt in his heart.
“Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I go talk to Y/n for a bit.” Harrison pushed himself off the shelves and motioned over to where he saw you walk in. You were making your way over to where they were.
“Don’t you dare, Harrison!” Tom growled lowly, as he shoved Harrison back against the shelves this time while gripping the collar of his shirt.
“Oh, so you do remember.” Harrison smiled amused.
“What the hell man, you’re supposed to be my best friend!” Tom took his hands off him.
“And you’re not supposed to give up your life for some girl!” Harrison situated his shirt.
“What the hell happened to us?”
“You tell me…one minute you're barely talking to any of us, then the next you're off with some girl who was only supposed to be a part of the bet Harper made with you.”
“What?”
Tom and Harrison turned their heads. The voice belonged to you. Tom’s eyes widened so big you thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. He was so scared…so scared that you wouldn’t believe him. And he was scared you now thought the feelings he had for you weren’t real.
“Y/n...” Tom croaked out as he felt tears begin to slide down his cheek.
“I’m a bet?” You muttered.
“No, no, no, no.” Tom made his way over to you quickly. He took a hold of your face in his hands, doing everything he could do to make you look at him. Your expression was dazed, emotionless, and he was the cause of it. “You’re not a bet.” He began hugging you tightly not wanting to let you slip away. “You’re not a bet, you’re not a bet. You’re not a bet.” He mumbled into your hair. Your arms remained at your sides. You didn’t know how to feel at this point.
Harrison watching the whole interaction realized he made a mistake opening his big fat mouth. He’s never seen Tom act this way, not for anybody. Not even for any girl he’s been with. That’s all it took to see that you weren’t just some girl they chose for Tom to pick on. You were now the girl. The girl that would somehow make everything better in his life. His girl. Harrison just didn’t know it then.
“Baby, you’re not a bet. Please, please, believe me, you’re not a bet. You’re so much more than that. You’re so much more.” He pressed a tender kiss to your temple while you remained still as a rock. Your eyes stared at one spot. Tom pulled back to look at you. Your expression remained the same. “Harrison’s stupid, don’t listen to him, he doesn’t control the way I feel about you. My friends don’t understand this, they don’t understand us. But I’m not gonna let them break us. Okay?” He pressed his head against yours. “I’m not going to let them break us.” Tom’s voice cracked as he got no response from you yet.
He pulled you back into his arms. He pressed a kiss now and then into your hair. Tom just held you, he held you until you finally took in his words.
Maybe his friend Harrison wanted to break you two apart. Maybe he didn’t accept you two being together.
Maybe he was lying about being a bet. Maybe just maybe.
It was slow and it was a gentle touch, but Tom felt it right away. A smile made its way onto his lips as he now felt your arms and hands snake around his waist to hug him back. He gripped you a bit tighter, not too hard to hurt you, but just enough to let you know he wasn’t letting you go.
“I love you.” His voice is muffled by your hair but you hear him nonetheless.
“I love you too.” You whispered back as you buried your head in his neck.
-
Wednesday.
Yours and Tom’s morning was almost like a routine now. He’d pick you up, drive you to school, you’d walk in together, people would stare, you comment on it, and then he walks you to class, while he makes his way to the library.
A routine. It remained the same. You wouldn’t change it. You got to see him more often now, and you were grateful for it.
You were seated at lunch at your usual table, and your focus was on your father’s book, but you couldn’t ignore how some of your classmates kept throwing looks and glances your way. You never did enjoy being the center of attention. Let alone the attention that was drawing Harper closer to your table. You placed the book in front of your face, hoping it would do you some good at hiding you, but alas…
Harper reached forward and lowered the book from your face. “I can still see you,” Harper smirked.
“Right.” You chuckled nervously and looked down at your book again. Yet you couldn’t help but look over her shoulder. Heather and Hannah were nowhere in sight - that was somewhat of a good thing, right?
Harper caught on quickly and reassured your nerves. “Oh, those two…” She motioned behind her. “Don’t worry they won’t be sitting with us today.”
“T-Today?” You raised your brow in confusion. "Sitting with us?"
“We’re gonna eat lunch together silly.” Harper giggled, she sat down across from you on the chair and reached down into her bag to retrieve her lunch. All greens, it was probably a salad.
“Oh…” You trailed off, you picked up a carrot, and bit into it slowly. Eating was a nervous habit of yours.
“You don’t mind do you?” Harper gave you a questioning look that made you not want to do bad by her. She played with the straw of her smoothie, and you couldn’t help but glance at the plastic thing and then at her.
“No, I don’t mind...” You gave her an unsure smile.
“Great!” She exclaimed with satisfaction. Harper took a sip of her drink, then stabbed a fork into her salad. “So where’s Romeo?” Harper nonchalantly observed the cafeteria for the tall brunette.
“Tom?” You watched her closely.
“Yeah, who else would I mean?” Harper shrugged. Then she added. “So, where is he?” Harper crossed her hands and leaned in closer.
“Oh uh, he had to-” You stammered.
“Hey love, sorry I’m late, Grace had me put books back into their right place.” You turned around in your chair just in time for Tom to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. He smiled at you then frowned once he realized Harper was sitting in front of you. “Harper?” He threw her a questioning look. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“It’s school, I’m pretty sure we have to attend it.” She sassed him.
“I mean, why the hell are you sitting with us?” Tom took a seat next to you. He placed his tray and bookbag down.
“Oh, didn’t Y/n tell you…she invited me to sit with you guys. Isn’t she the sweetest?” Harper giggled and gave you a smile you knew was fake.
Tom glanced between you and Harper. “You did?” He stared at you.
“I could have possibly done that.” You stared at her.
“Okay then…” Tom eyed you curiously then he relaxed when you gave him that smile he grew to love over the few days. The table grew quiet causing the tension to rise.
“Why so quiet?” Harper blurted out. “Usually you two love birds are so chatty and full of giggles any other day, is it me?” Harper eyed you two playfully.
“Yes.” “N-No.” You and Tom looked at each other with an incredulous look, then you glanced at Harper.
“Well, which one is it?” Harper smiled.
Tom scowled angrily. “Harper, can I talk to you?”
“We are talking, Tom.” You flinched when she said that.
“Outside.”
“I’m sure you can talk to me in front of Y/n, right babes?” Harper turned her attention onto you, but you remained quiet.
Tom got up and grabbed her arm. Harper grabbed her bag in time as Tom began dragging her out of the cafeteria. You sat there frozen not sure what to do. You looked back at some of your classmates who were staring at you. You hid behind your hand and began reading your book again, sinking and lowering into your chair.
-
Without thinking too much about it, Tom dragged Harper into an empty supply closet, locked the door, and pushed her against the wall. But his movements were nowhere near lustful, maybe a bit out of frustration, but no passion or hunger resided within him.
“Seriously? First Harrison then you. What’s next huh? A smoothie gets thrown in my face too?” Tom scoffed, shaking his head.
Harper was too into this side of him. It might have been one of the reasons why sex with him was always great. The two of them just melted together that way. No feelings were involved, just a bunch of pent-up tension needing to be released…but perhaps she wanted more.
“Don’t be silly like I’d ever throw one in that pretty face of yours.” Harper chuckled then threw her arms around his neck.
“But you’d throw one at Y/n.” Tom frowned. He turned his gaze to the wall next to them. “You did throw one at her.”
Y/n, Y/n, Y/n. That’s all she ever heard from him.
Think about me, now.
Harper moved his chin with her finger. Her eyes move from his eyes down to his lips. She licked her own out of sudden instinct. “She can’t make you happy like I can.”
Tom stared at her doing nothing to remove her arms. He didn't know where it came from. It was out of nowhere. One second he was angry with her, then the next he harshly kissed her lips. Harper clung onto his dark hair tugging at it just the way he liked. A groan emitted from his lips.
He pulled her tighter and closer to his body. He missed the way she felt around his hands. All perfection rolled into one. It looked like he couldn’t get enough of Harper, but if anyone could handle Harper it was him. He was the only one she knew that would take really good care of her.
While one hand is gripping her waist, the other starts pulling down the straps of her top. Wet kisses trail down her neck causing a whimper every time he bit down and sucked at her skin. One item of clothing follows one by one. First his shirt, then her top.
“God I missed you.” Tom rasps.
“Missed you too.” Their breathing is labored and raspy. The hunger they have for each other pulls them closer like a magnet. She ends up getting lost in the feeling of his lips, her mind reeling as he sinks to his knees before her. “Harper.”
“Harper.”
“Harper.”
-
“Harper!” Tom shook her out of her daze.
Harper snapped out of it and looked up at Tom who scoffed. “Just stay away from Y/n, okay.” He removed her arms and left the closet. No one in sight to see him leave it. Thank god.
He made his way back to you. You were still seated avoiding everyone’s eyes. You deserved the world from where he stood. He walked up to your table and took his seat next to you. You were pulled out of your concentration from your book once you felt his presence. You smiled gently. “Everything okay?”
He smiled back. A gleam in his eyes you began to notice when you were with him. In some ways, it felt that he looked at you like you were his whole world. No way he’d think like that. Would he though?
“Everything…is perfect, love.” Tom muttered then leaned in to plant a sweet kiss on your lips.
“Okay.” Your eyes crinkled at the edges as you smiled.
“You ready to go?” He motioned to your half-eaten lunch.
“You barely ate anything.” You frowned.
“I’m okay.” He shrugged. “Not that hungry anymore.”
“You don’t want a bite of my sandwich, I got full with the carrots, and fruits.” You offered. Tom shook his head.
“Not even a bit of celery with peanut butter.” You waved the vegetable in his face.
Tom pondered for a second then smiled. He took it from your hand and bit down into it. He finished it in three big bites. He chewed until there was no trace of the green stick in his mouth. “Thank you.” He leaned in to kiss you, but you stopped him by putting your hand on his chest. “What?” He questioned as he saw you stifle a laugh. “What?” He smiled brightly this time.
“You got uh.” You gestured to your mouth. Tom caught on and wiped at his mouth, only to miss the spot he needed to get. “You huh, here let me…” You licked the pad of your thumb and gently wiped away the bit of peanut butter that was at the edge of his mouth. “There.” You were frozen at what you had just done. Tom, on the other hand, couldn’t find the right words to say. You kept doing things that left him rendered speechless, in a good admirable way. He liked you, that much was true, but the way he looked at you right now said something completely different. Was it love that glistened in his eyes? No, it was too soon for that still. Was it though?
You were a bit flustered, your cheeks heated. You removed your eyes from his and turned towards the table in search of a napkin, you wanted to clean the peanut butter off, but couldn’t. You slumped in defeat for a second. Tom took notice and grabbed a hold of your hand. He gently guided it up to his lips. He wrapped his fingers around your thumb, bent his head down to meet the pad of it, and sucked it off. You felt his tongue and the top and bottom part of his lips suck the bit of condiment in one quick go. To you, it felt slower, but it was quick, and he certainly didn’t think too much of it…at least until he saw your reaction. You were dumbstruck, you were caught off guard by his action, not expecting it, but it happened.
“Sorry.” Tom apologized with a sheepish smile on his lips.
“It’s okay.” You bashfully glanced at your lap, then back up at him. “R-Ready to go?” You asked as you began closing the lid on your containers.
“Yeah.” He nodded as he waited for you to put your lunch away in your bag. You grabbed your dad’s book, and he slung your bag over his shoulder. You didn’t bother arguing with him about being able to carry it yourself.
You tried…You did and you lost every time, it was inevitable at this point. You took his extended hand and walked out of the cafeteria and headed to the library.
-
Thursday.
It was after school and you were in your room doing a bit of homework when you heard it. You were trying to figure out a mathematical equation you could not solve. You thought you had it, but your focus was interrupted when a noise got your attention. You didn’t think much of it and proceeded to ignore it until it continued. The tiny clunk of something hitting your window.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.
It kept repeating until it grew louder. You pushed your math book off your lap and walked over to your window. You looked out waiting to see if something was there. It grew quiet again and then a sudden bang sounded against your window again causing you to shriek out in fear.
“Ahh!” You jumped in place, then pushed your window up to open it. You stuck your head out and right as you did a small pebble struck you on your forehead. You flinched, raising a hand to where you got hit. “Ow…” You trailed off.
Tom, on the other hand, stood still in his spot. He gaped in shock that he just hit you. His hands were frozen in the air like he was reaching out for you but he was pulling back into himself. His fingers curled into his palm and he brought his fist towards his mouth and closed his eyes at his stupidity.
“What the hell?” You moaned as you looked down at him. He opened his eyes looking guilty. “I’m…so sorry. Oh my god, are you okay?” Tom cringed as he replayed the image of you getting hit in his mind.
“No, you just pebbled me in the face!” You looked at him incredulously. “What the hell are you doing out here?” You shook your head.
“I thought it’d be romantic.” Tom sheepishly gritted his teeth. He shrugged.
“To hit me?!” You furrowed your brows.
“What? No, throw pebbles…at your window.” He scratched his neck nervously. “Guess it didn’t pan out like I thought it would.”
You smiled gently. You then realize the picnic basket and blanket next to his feet. Your heart fluttered at the gesture. He was trying and it was best if you cut him some slack. He did come out here after all.
“I’m sorry.” He pouted. You wanted to reach out and kiss the pout off him.
“We have a front door ya know?” You giggled teasing him a bit.
“I know, I just didn’t want to wake your mom up though.” Tom smiled gently.
“Too late!”
You and Tom whipped your heads towards the window that was right next to yours.
“Tom.” Your mom waves at Tom.
“Hi Ms. Y/L/N.” Tom gave her a quick wave then rocked back and forth sheepishly on his feet.
“Mom?” You whined.
“Shouldn’t you be doing your homework?” Your mom smiled innocently.
“Mom…”
“It’s a school night.” Your mom reminded you.
“When has that been an issue?” You and your mom bantered back and forth. Tom thought he was going to get whiplash by how much his head was going between you and your mom.
“It…hasn’t?” Your mom cringed.
“Great, so I can have the rest of the night off?” You smiled innocently.
“Not all night, you need your sleep.” Your mom pointed out.
“Four hours?”
“Two.”
“What? No, at least three!”
“Hour and a half?”
“Two and a half.”
"Fine."
"Fine!" You sighed and then looked at Tom who had no clue what just happened. “You heard her.” Tom focused on you. “Meet me in the backyard.”
Tom nodded like a happy toddler as he fumbled with the blanket and carried the basket into the yard. He closed the fence and began setting up. Once he was out of hearing shot you looked over at your mom with an unimpressed look.
“Really?”
“Tick tock.” She sing-songed as she removed herself from the window and closed it shut. You chuckled at her actions and went back to your room, closing the window behind you. You pick up your cardigan and put it over your tank top. Your pajama bottoms were too comfortable to change out of. You stepped up to your long-length mirror and gave yourself a once over. You still had your insecurities, even if Tom made you feel like the prettiest girl in the world.
You never doubted that you had something going for yourself. No guy at school seemed to think so, but Tom did, and for some odd reason, you liked his attention. He was cute and sweet, he may have his flaws too, but so do you. However, even if he thought you were pretty or not. He only saw you.
Just you.
He saw you before and he sees you as you are now. That’s all that matters. That’s what counts the most.
You smile and shrug at the girl in the mirror and make your way outside. You went down the stairs and out the door through the kitchen. You smiled as you saw him on top of the blanket sorting and laying everything out.
Tom looked up and he smiled up at you. You were wearing some fuzzy socks, with koala bears on them, your gray Mickey Mouse pajama shorts were cute on you, and the dark blue cardigan was a bit oversized on you. Yet you were still the most beautiful girl to him. Tom leaned back on his hands and tilted his head to the side.
You giggled and flaunted the cardigan, turning around like you were showing it off. You danced in your spot with a teasing smile. Tom laughed as he watched you. He sat up.
“Get your cute little butt over here.” He said with a chuckle. You giggled and ran to him. He looked up and brought you down onto his lap. You sunk as he held onto your waist gently.
His hold never tightened on you, it was mostly a lingering touch. You considered he was never rough with you because you felt he didn't want to hurt you.
You knew he could be though…be rough with you. He dated Harper for crying out loud, you doubted he was anything but gentle with her. It was a nice thing to see from him though. He touched you like you were made of porcelain. One wrong move and he'd break you. He couldn’t though, he couldn’t break you. Not anymore, you were far along from the broken girl you used to be. You fought through it and now you weren’t broken, you were whole, and you were happy.
Tom made you really happy.
You brought your hands up to his face and caressed his skin. The smile he loved seeing on you reached your eyes. You were beaming.
“Hi.” You giggle.
“Hi.” Tom’s eyes crinkled. His voice sounded relaxed. He couldn’t help but admire the light of the moon shining down on you. Lighting up everything he loved about you. He leaned in and pressed his lips onto yours. He pulled back and looked at you again.
You chased him as he pulled back, not wanting it to be over yet. You leaned in and pecked his lips. Tom pulled back in a teasing manner. You kept pecking and chasing him until you cupped his cheeks and let your lips linger on his for a while longer. He didn’t deny you the kiss you wanted.
You both moved in sync, as the kiss got a little heated. Tom removed his hands from your waist and let them rake up and down your bare thighs. It wasn’t long before he brought one hand up to your shoulder and slid one side of the cardigan down. Exposing the thin strap of your tank top and your neck. He pulled back gently and began peppering your skin with wet kisses. Just like back in the library, it was a new feeling that you wanted to experience more of. You sighed as he kept trailing his lips across your skin. You could feel him smile when you gasped. He bit down gently on your neck and soothed it with a lick.
“Tom…” You sighed in contentment as you tilted your head more to grant him more access at your skin.
“Do you want me to stop?” Tom continued to pepper kisses down your neck.
“N-No.” You shook your head. Tom kissed your neck for a little while longer only leaving the one mark on your skin, but traces of where his lips were had lingered. He pulled away and planted a kiss on your lips. You were in total bliss at the moment.
“Why’d you stop?” You smiled gently.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop if I carry on.” Tom sighed as he pressed his head against yours.
“You can’t hurt me.” You shook your head.
“Trust me, I want that with you, okay? I do.” Tom reassured you with a smile. You smiled back but you knew there was more. “But I want to do this the right way. I don’t want your first time to be because you think you have to do it. I want it to be great, and special for you. I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.” Tom frowned.
“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to.” You admitted. “Everything that I want to happen is because I’m letting it happen.” You caressed the nape of his hair. “I know you'll never hurt me, and I’m not saying let’s have sex right now either. But let’s not dwell on what we can do in our spare time. Though I don’t think I’d know what to do.” You chuckled nervously. Tom brushed away your hair. “I’m not ready for anything extreme." You grit your teeth sheepishly.
“You don’t have to worry about anything extreme for a long time or as long as you deem it necessary.” He chuckled lightly at your flustered self.
“I just meant making out and stuff, ya know…” You shrugged. “More dates with you.”
“I like the sound of that.” He smiled and pulled you back in for a kiss.
“Are. We. Going to. Ignore the. Food?” You said in between each kiss.
“Are you hungry?”
“A little.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Alright, I can eat.” Without removing you from his lap, Tom pulled the basket closer and opened it up. “Alright we have some chocolate-covered strawberries, thank my mom for those. Some grapes, celery sticks with peanut butter, and a couple of ham and turkey sandwiches. A couple of water bottles, or soda if that’s more your thing.” Tom shrugged as he pulled the food out. Each one looked to die for. “What will it be, my lady?” Tom kissed your cheek as you eyed all your choices. You reached your arm out and picked up a strawberry. You brought it up to Tom’s lips and he gave in and bit into it. He hummed at the sweet taste it created in his mouth. You smiled and finished the rest of the strawberry you fed him. “Delicious.” Tom muttered playfully.
“Yeah?” You giggled and picked up another strawberry.
That’s how the rest of the night went for you two. You fed each other and indulged yourselves in a game of who can catch the most grapes in their mouth.
You ended up winning.
Tom had attacked you by tickling you until you couldn’t breathe anymore and gave in. You made out a bit more, then he had to leave. It was sweet and one of the best first dates you ever had. Well…it was your first date, and you were glad with how it went. You knew for sure you wanted to do that again.
-
Friday.
Harper did not enjoy the way Tom just left her in the supply closet. Guys usually didn’t leave her. She was the one who got the last word in and got to walk off. Tom certainly kept surprising her, first his new attraction towards you and now he won’t even look in her direction. Harper was furious, she was pure fire, and people who played with fire tended to get burned.
She was full of hate and in need of getting some payback, and she knew just how to get it…
You were at your locker, taking your time switching out your books for the ones you needed. You weren’t aware of Harper approaching you so it wasn’t before you jumped when she slammed your locker shut. The action causing your books to fall. You cursed silently to yourself and kneeled to pick your things up. Harper got annoyed and kneeled to help you. In doing so you both went for the same notebook, which had you both bumping heads. You both fell back with a groan.
“Ow…” You groaned.
“Oh…” Harper groaned.
You two just sat on the floor rubbing where you collided heads with each other. It was pretty stupid. Only you would headbutt with someone, literally.
You couldn’t help but laugh at what just happened. Surprisingly Harper joined in on your fits of giggles. She leaned forward and picked up your last notebook. She handed it to you, and you took it gratefully from her hand, stuffing it into your bag.
“T-Thanks.”
“Why do you do that?” She asked out of nowhere.
“D-Do what?”
“Stutter, I’ve noticed you only do that when you’re nervous, or when I’m around.”
“I-” You shut up when Harper eyed you. You were proving her right. “I…” You breathed in slowly. “I don’t know, nervous habit maybe.” You shrugged.
“Do I make you that uncomfortable?” She frowned.
“You don’t exactly make people feel great about themselves.” You admitted.
“Oh…well I’m sorry.”
Did you hear her correctly?
“You’re sorry?”
“I don’t exactly have it easy, so I guess I do tend to take it out on others. Especially you, Y/n.” Harper got up to her feet and held her hand out to you. She pulled you up and you dusted your jeans off.
“Thanks?” You opened your locker once more and grabbed your book. You put it in your bag and looked up at her expectantly.
“So I’m throwing a party tonight since it’s the championship game. We’re going to win either way, and you know how Tom plays football and all, right?
“Right.” You nodded. “Isn’t he benched though…” You trailed off.
“Yeah, his coach isn’t letting him play because he bullied and picked on you. It’s really sad, but he has to pay for what he did. It really does suck though, playing football means the world to him. It’s what was going to get him his scholarship. Scouts are coming out to the game tonight to see their star player…yet he won’t be there because he was benched. Poor Tom. There goes his future. You and Tom should come to the party though, it’ll be fun.” She smiled sweetly at you. “See you Y/n.”
Tom wouldn’t get a scholarship anymore? Oh no…
He never told you anything about that. Was his future at risk because of what he did? You knew he never meant it. Yet it still hurts that he might not be able to go to college because of it.
Harper walked over to where Heather and Hannah were. “How did it go?” Hannah asked.
“Hook lined and then-” Harper chuckled as she watched you walk away from your locker in a rush. “We sink her...”
-
“Principal Johnson.” You knocked on his office door.
“Ahh, Y/n. Lovely to see you. How are you?” Principal Johnson lifted his head with a smile. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?”
“Please take a seat, I’m all ears.”
You took a seat and opened your mouth to begin talking.
-
You were seated on the floor in one of the aisles of the library. Too entranced you almost didn’t hear footsteps running down the aisles. You looked over at the end and saw Tom skid to a halt. He regained his balance and rushed over to you on the ground.
You looked at him with a bewildered smile.
“Hi, there.” You giggled.
“You are not going to believe what just happened!” He rushed out excitedly.
“What is it?” You sat up straighter and set your book down beside you.
“I don’t understand…coach was serious about me being benched. Then again he’s never too serious about certaint hings.” You almost didn’t understand him by how fast he talked. “T-This is crazy!” He smiled brightly.
“Tom.” You laughed, urging him to tell you the news.
“Right sorry. I’m not benched anymore. Coach says I get to play tonight’s game…” He furrowed his brows still not fully aware of how he was allowed to play all of a sudden. He seemed to enjoy the pressure being off him.
He frowned and looked down at his lap. You took notice of his change of demeanor. “What’s wrong?” You scooted closer to him.
“I get to play again.”
“What’s wrong with that? You love playing football.”
“I just don’t know if I want to anymore. Being quarterback had its perks, yeah, but it all came with the weight of having to carry the team on my shoulders. There was too much pressure put on me. I knew coach put on the whole tough love front, but I didn’t like it. And trust me I don’t think I want to read or learn another playbook again.” Tom laughed at the end.
Oh no.
“You don’t want to play anymore…” You looked away from him. You royally screwed up.
“I don’t know. I mean a lot has changed since…” He trailed off.
“Since you’ve been with me.” You looked up.
“Being with you has been the best thing that’s happened to me. It overrules being back on the team.” He grabbed your hand and traced soothing circles on your skin.
“Really?” Your heart fluttered at his words.
“Really.” Tom leaned in forward and pecked your lips slowly.
“I think you should though. Play tonight’s game. It is the championship game after all.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. I missed a whole week of practice. I don’t even think they can do that. Let me play.” Tom leaned back against the shelves. Silence fell over the two of you before he spoke up. “This wasn’t my dream growing up.”
“Playing football?”
“Yeah. I mostly did it because Harrison decided to try out. He, of course, convinced me enough. So I went to the tryouts.” He scoffed as he remembered that day. “I was scrawny and still wore braces. Imagine that. Most of the seniors during freshman year laughed at me, but I tried to not pay them any mind. They bullied me.”
“I remember that.” You played with his hands. “They’d push you up against the lockers. They’d hit you.” You frowned.
“They couldn’t hit me hard enough to stop me from joining.” Tom admitted.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too for what I did to you.” He tilted his head to the side to look at you.
“What did you want to do?”
“As stupid as it may sound. I wanted to act. Be in the school play.” He shook his head at the thought.
“It’s not stupid. I could see it.” You offered a smile.
“You’ve never even seen me act, how could you possibly see me as an actor?” He chuckled.
“I can see it.” You shrugged, repeating your words.
“Okay, what about you? What does Y/n Y/L/N want to be when she grows up?”
“Mmmm.” You hummed. To be honest you never really thought about it that much. There was always the fear of dying too soon, that you thought you’d never get the chance, and you had no idea what you wanted to do with your life. “I never really gave it much of a thought.” You continued to play with Tom’s hands. “Getting through chemotherapy, and putting up the biggest fight was all that I really thought about. School and seeing the next few months were only just a second thought.”
Tom smiled sadly as he thought about how hard it must’ve been for you. How a life with you was a 'live in the moment' ordeal. That at some point you'd both have to let the truth sink in eventually. That you wouldn't be with him in the future. That he'd have to continue on without you “Well, whatever you decide to do, you’re going to be great at it.” He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple.
The bell rang over the intercom signaling the end of the day. You unwrapped yourself from his embrace and stood up holding a hand out for him to take. He grabbed your hand and stood up, but not before hoisting your backup up and onto his shoulder.
“Are you ever going to let me carry my bag?” You shook your head.
“We'll see.” He gave you a cheeky smile. He held onto your hand tugging you forward as he walked backwards.
-
You both headed home after school had ended. You were sitting at your desk finishing up some homework you wanted to get done. Tom didn’t show up to the game.
He didn’t want to play and you respected his wishes. You were sad that you had practically begged the principal to let him play.
Mr.Johnson was hesitant but after some explaining on your behalf he gave in, now you were starting to think it was all for nothing. But Tom telling you he never truly wanted to play football gave you some ease. You closed up your math textbook and swiveled around in your chair to face Tom who was reading a book you got him hooked on, on your bed.
“We should do something fun tonight.” You suggested gently. Tom put the book down and gave you his attention.
“What did you have in mind?” Tom scooted closer to the edge to sit down in front of your chair. He smiled as he grabbed ahold of the sides of the chair and pulled you forward to him. The chair slid across the floor causing you to squeal.
You smiled gently at him. “Let’s go to a party.”
Tom’s eyes widened in surprise, not expecting the word 'party' to come out of your mouth. “Yeah, we can do that.” He nodded, unsure of himself.
-
Harper raised her pom-poms in the air as Harrison ran the winning touchdown. The buzzer went off and the announcer cheered through the microphone.
“Cyclones win, cyclones win!”
Harper screamed alongside her cheerleaders. They all jumped up and down and then ran into the middle of the field where everyone had surrounded Harrison. The blonde was too excited that he hadn’t seen Harper come up behind him. He turned towards her and didn’t expect her to kiss him. His shock washed away as he gripped her waist tighter. Harper pulled away to catch her breath then she yelled.
“Party at my house!” She smiled as her classmates cheered and hollered ‘yeahs’ and woohoos.”
-
When Harper said she was throwing a party. She meant it… Tom put the car in park and stared up at the two-story house through the window. A few buddies of his hanging out on the front lawn. He turned over to look at you.
“We still have time to change our minds. We can leave. We don’t have to go inside.” Tom grabbed your hand and began rubbing your skin soothingly.
“I’m okay.” You smiled reassuringly.
“Okay.” Tom let out a breath of air and let go of your hand. He got out the door and rushed around to open your door. You smiled thankfully and grabbed the hand that he extended out to you
Tom and you walked hand in hand to the front door. It wasn’t a surprise when some of Tom’s teammates greeted him with a warm welcome or a pat on the back. He hadn’t really spent much time around them, so it was a rare sight to see everyone be so friendly with each other.
A few of them glanced your way. Some raked their eyes up and down your figure while a few of them only smiled and nodded at you. You only responded with a smile and let Tom lead the way into the house. The music instantly blared in your ears. You weren’t used to hearing such loud music, so out of instinct, you gripped Tom’s hand and practically attached yourself to his back. His response to this was to pull you closer and plant a kiss on your temple. Both of you managed to move around and through all the intoxicated and grinding bodies.
It was quite a sight to see. You swore you’ve never seen a girl throw herself back onto a guy before, but there was a first time for everything right?
Harper watched from the top rail that was placed in between the two staircases. She smirked as she watched everyone having a good time. Her parents were gone for the weekend, so everything was going according to plan…well at least until…
“Look who decided to show up. Three o’clock.” Hannah gestured down below to you and Tom making your way through everyone.
“Well, at least we now know why he wasn’t at the game.” Harper sneered and looked at you with hatred.
“Who cares now, at least she got him to come.” Heather perked up.
“Plan ‘get Tom back’ is in motion.” Heather placed her hands on the rail and smirked.
“Now all we need is to separate the two.” Harper stated. The girls paused for a moment to think. A lightbulb had gone off in Hannah’s head suddenly.
“I got the perfect idea!” Hannah smirked. “She won’t know what hit her.”
A few heads turned your way as you held onto Tom. The chatter and whispers quickly happened as you reached the kitchen. Tom kept walking with your hand in his as he observed his choices for a drink.
A beer would have been his go-to drink. A grab and take, but he was here with you. You were at your first party, and if anyone was to get drunk it was going to be you. All he wanted at the moment was for you to have a great time, drunk or not. He didn’t want you to worry about anything else other than your own enjoyment. He was a bit skeptical that you had wanted to come to this. Let alone come to a party thrown by Harper. Her name screamed all over this. He knew you, you were down to earth and preferred to stay inside or go to the park if that’s what you wanted. You wouldn’t have come to this if there was a catch. Right?
You watched as he picked up a beer bottle, and then set it down quickly.
“Don’t want to drink?” You smiled and questioned him.
“Not tonight.” He smiled and stepped up to plant a kiss on your lips.
“You sure?” You furrowed your brows.
“Yes, I’m sure. Why don’t we get you a drink instead.” Tom turned back to the counter and observed a couple of soda bottles.
“Okay, just no alcohol please.” You smiled gently.
“Of course.” Tom looked around the kitchen and spotted the red solo cups.
Perfect, he thought.
He walked over and grabbed one. He came back over to you and poured you a good amount of Sprite. He tasted it first to make sure it wasn’t spiked then came it back to you.
“This cup is your new best friend.” Tom smiled as he heard you giggle. “Perfectly suitable to hide any drink of your choosing, alcohol or not. Plus, it makes for the perfect prop to blend in with everyone else.” He motioned to everyone who was holding a red cup. “No harm, no foul. You have one of those in your hand.” He gestured to your cup. “No one will question you one bit…” Tom caressed your hair behind your ear.
You stared at him thoughtfully. No one would ever go through this much for you. Yet Tom has. He brought you comfort, he made you feel safe. Even at a party full of drunks. You pecked him sweetly on the lips.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Tom hummed as he kissed you tenderly.
This time you decided to lead the way. You found a couch that wasn’t full and decided to sit on it. Tom followed your lead and leaned back on the coach. He rested his arm behind your head. You enjoyed being here with him. People were enjoying themselves and the music was good apart from it being blasted through the speakers. The night was great. For the most part…
As far as alone time with Tom went, it seemed to be cut short.
“Yo Tom!” Tom glanced up to see Harrison and a few of his friends make their way towards you. “Tommy boy. There he is!” Tom stood up to greet Harrison. “How are you mate? We needed you out there tonight.” Harrison swayed in place. He patted Tom on the cheek.
“I think you did just fine without me.” Held onto his best friend.
“Come hang with us, the boys are doing keg stands you gotta come do it, man.” Harrison smiled.
“I can’t.” Tom whispered tilting his head slightly at you.
“Pshh.” Harrison pushed Tom out of the way and spoke to you. “You don’t mind if we steal him for a second love, do you?”
“Oh uh, I guess not…” You were about to open your mouth again but Harrison beat you to it. “Great, be back in a sec.” Harrison stood behind Tom and pushed him toward the backyard door.
Tom threw out slight curses at Harrison. “I’ll be back, just stay there!” He managed to say over his shoulder as he was being dragged outside.
“Okay.” He was already far away from a hearing distance. “I’ll be here…” You slumped your shoulders and took sips from your drink. You never knew loneliness until now as you watched people chatter amongst themselves. Tom had friends whereas you did not. You shrunk in your seat wanting to turn invisible all of a sudden.
-
Harrison ushered Tom to the center of his friends as they got outside.
“Guess who showed up boys. Tommy boy is back!” Tom closed his eyes and smiled as people hollered and cheered him on. He looked around the backyard. The party was even more in swing than it was inside. Friends and classmates of his either making out or diving into the pool.
-
“Not enjoying the party?” You lifted your gaze from your lap. It was Harper with a smile on her face.
“Oh no, I’m enjoying myself, you outdid yourself.” You chuckled nervously. Harper gave you a pointed look which caused you to give in. “Okay…maybe not as much as I’d like.”
“Tom ditch you?” She asked curiously. She looked around the room full of sweaty drunks.
“No, he uh…Harrison took him somewhere for a second.” You scratched your head with your finger. “He should be back in a bit.”
“Of course he did.” Harper giggled. “Well, why don’t I keep you company while you wait? Girl time right?” Harper situated herself next to you.
“Thanks.” You smiled gratefully at her.
“No problem. You know I underestimated you Y/n.” Harper leaned her head against her hand that rested against the sofa.
“How so?” You furrowed your brows.
“Didn’t think Tom could get you to come out tonight. You keep to yourself a lot. I thought you’d refuse to go out.” Harper smiled gently. As you gave her your full attention you didn’t notice Hannah walk by and spike your drink.
“He didn’t have to convince me.” You paused as you raised your cup to your lips. Harper eyed you as you drank from the cup.
“He didn’t?”
“Nope.” You said as you lowered the cup. “You invited me.” You smiled sweetly at her. “I wanted to come tonight. I thought it’d be fun.” You nodded.
“Glad you did.” Harper nudged your arm playfully. “The party is just about to get better.” Harper said under her breath.
“Huh?”
“Oh, nothing.” Harper laughed. You eyed her then brushed it off with a chuckle of your own. "You have fun okay." Harper got up and bid you a goodbye.
-
Tom stood with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a beer.
A few girls in their bikinis gave him a flirty smile as they passed him and his buddies. He turned away immediately, already wanting to get back to you. Harrison noticed and smirked.
“You should get with that.” Harrison suggested as he watched the girls walk away.
“Funny, Haz.” Tom shook his head as he sipped the beer he was given.
“Oh come on lighten up will ya.” Harrison patted him. “How about a little competition?” Harrison knew Tom could never resist a ‘friendly’ competitive game of who can down all their drinks first.
“I’m sorry, no.” Tom chuckled, refusing to play.
“Don’t be such a buzzkill. We’re having a good time.”
“Really? Because I’m not.” Tom scowled as he eyed him and the guys. He scoffed and walked back inside to find you.
-
Once he was back inside he instantly regretted leaving you alone. There you stood with your shirt off on top of the table. Dancing to the music. What made everything worse was how everyone was videotaping you. And the thing that pissed him off the most was the fact Harper was the closest one to you and she was letting this happen.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved and pushed his way to the front. Harper immediately noticed him and began speaking.
“Wow, and here we were thinking she was such a priss. When in fact she’s a party animal!” She shouted.
“Shut up, Harper!” Tom growled at her. He looked around the dining table in search of your shirt. “Where’s her shirt, Harper? Huh, where is it?” When she didn’t respond he turned toward you and got you down from the table. Much to your protest. He stripped his jacket off and put it on you.
“T-Tom!” You slurred as he struggled to enter your arms through the sleeves. The music cut off and everyone watched as Tom hurried to button up his jean jacket on you. Once you were decent again he turned towards Harper, and if it weren’t for how close you were to him. You wouldn’t have felt his body tremble with anger. You grew quiet immediately.
“You got her drunk.” Tom breathed in deeply. “Are you serious!” He scowled at her. Harper flinched as she stood her ground.
“She wanted to have fun...” She shrugged. Her tone of voice was innocent.
“No, don’t be so coy. You planned this, didn’t you? You wanted to get her drunk to humiliate her.”
“Hey don’t put this on me, she was the one drinking.” Harper raised her hands in defense.
“Bullshit! She never wanted to drink, I gave her soda, not alcohol. You gave her that!” Tom pointed a finger at her.
“You don't have proof that I did such a thing, Tom,” Harper smirked.
“What do you want from me, Harper? I’m not yours, I never was.” Tom slumped his shoulders in defeat. “The one time I’m finally happy, you decide you want to take that away from me. I’m happy, don’t you get that!” Tom’s eyes became watery. “I’m happy, Harper. Happy. Y/n makes me happy!” Tom glanced back at you with a heartbroken expression then back at Harper. “Get over yourself already.” Tom shook his head. “I don’t want to be with you. I never did!”
“Well, I did!” Harper glanced down in shame avoiding people's eyes on her. She swallowed nervously. Her guilt was building up. “I loved you. Okay, why her? Why not me?”
“That’s just it, Harper. Because she isn’t you! She doesn't get someone she hates drunk just to humiliate her.”
“I’m sorry...” Harper frowned, slowly handing back your shirt with despair and shame. Tom scoffs snatching it back from her.
“Stay away from us, Harper.” Tom wrapped his arm around you and led you out of the house in no time. As you both reached your side of the car, you placed your hands on your stomach and hunched over the bushes. Tom held your hair back and rubbed your back soothingly.
“Let it all out. I got you.” Once he was sure you threw everything up. Tom opened the passenger door and let you sit down for a minute. He opened the back seat and got a hoodie. He used it to wipe your mouth.
“I’m sorry.” You muttered as he caressed your hair back and continued to wipe your mouth.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Tom stared at you. “If anything I’m sorry. That I left you alone.”
“Not your fault.” You frowned. “Can you take me home?”
“Yeah.” Tom leaned forward and kissed your head. You put your legs inside the car and he closed your door for you. Tom got in himself and started the car.
So much for your first party.
-
Saturday.
The following morning you woke up with the worst hangover. At least now you could tell people you’ve had one.
You were expecting your mom to tell you something but she did anything but that. Tom had explained what happened and you barely remember her hugging you. She sent you off to bed. Now you were awake and ready to start your day. You had wasted away the time in bed for a bit before you mustered up the energy to get up.
The smell of bacon and eggs caused you to be a bit queasy as you went downstairs, but it went away.
Tom had come over to watch you since your mom was doing some errands. He smiled as you dragged your feet over to one of the stools and planted yourself on it. You had closed your eyes.
“Hi.” He laughed.
“Shhh!” You silenced him. Your head was pounding.
Tom bit back a laugh. He quickly placed two ibuprofen pills in front of you and a glass of water. “Here it’ll help with the migraine.”
You opened your eyes and saw the pills. You took one at a time and downed them with the cold water. You closed your eyes as you hummed in satisfaction. Tom couldn’t help but find this side of you adorable. He walked around the island and came over to your side.
“You okay?” He pushed some hair away from your face.
“Apart from being hungover…yes I’m fine. Thank you for taking care of me.” You hummed in delight as he cupped your cheeks and pecked your lips.
“I’d do anything for you.” You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Shockingly no video of you was posted online.”
“Really.” You were physically relaxed. "That's good to know."
"I'm sorry about Harper."
"It's okay...can't imagine what she's going through if she feels the need to take it out on someone."
"She shouldn't have done that to you regardless..."
"It's water under the bridge..." You rest your chin on your palm. "Now what's for breakfast?"
"Eggs-"
"Yes..."
"-Bacon-"
"You do love me-" You laugh.
"And pancakes, with possibly some fruit involved." He grins at you, tilting his head.
"Oh, I'm gonna love you forever." You sigh in bliss.
He didn't doubt it. Despite your limited time together, he never doubted your eternal love for one second, that you would, love him forever. That your love for him wouldn't vanish because even if forever would never be guaranteed with you, not truly, not likely. It was your love for him, and his love for you that would remain.
Now that was true and that was the reality of your story together.
#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland imagines#tom holland x reader#tom holland x fem!reader#tom holland oneshot#tom holland au#writings by juls#my gif
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It's Enough, It's Enough - final chapter
Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Jane x Guildford Rating: E Chapter: 6 / 6
Summary: Five times Jane and Guildford pretend to have sex, and one time it’s for real.
read on tumblr: one | two | three | four | five
It isn’t the sex that makes them different. In Guildford’s opinion, it’s everything after. It’s walking into her chambers as she’s getting ready and witnessing her before the mirror—she is gilded, dazzling—and feeling as if he’s seeing the sun with human eyes for the first time in many, many years. It’s that she notices the moment he enters the room. It’s the high, sweet “Hi” in response to his greeting that is at once perfectly innocent and all-knowing. She’s a kind of god to him, Jane. Does she know? Can she feel him gazing wonderingly up at her from his knees, even while they stand?
His hands squeeze around the shape of the gift he brought her, pearls pressing his palms. The fact of their arranged marriage was probably supposed to be the main exchange between them, since his family’s not actually rich and Jane has (rightly, in his opinion) refused to elevate him above Consort. It gives Guildford a particular pleasure to offer something so small, and valuable primarily for sentimental reasons. There’s no motive behind the gift, no expectation, no trade, no angle. There’s only this difference between them, a new closeness he didn’t see coming. It makes him silly and soft and achingly desperate to woo her—the woman who’s already his wife.
He’s had the earrings for years, kept them safe from the items his father has spoiled and sold. They’ve sat in a small box. Because of this, Guildford remembered the pearls as somewhat dull, but when he thought of them for Jane, when he retrieved them, he discovered he’d been utterly wrong. When he opens his hands to reveal them to Jane, the pearls look as they did to him earlier. They are unlike diamonds or jewels, their milkiness blurring the glow of the candles rather than brilliantly scattering it. It’s as though the pearls capture the light, allowing Guildford to offer this too to Jane: the intangible, the ephemeral. After the way she made him feel in the stables last night, it seems appropriate.
The thing is that Guildford believed he knew all the selves he could be. He knew the one he hates and avoids until dawn forces it upon him, and he knew the mordant and tetchy self prone to habitual drunkenness. The truth is he believed the whole of himself ugly, in one way and another. He thought his past had disfigured any genuine goodness in him beyond recognition or repair. He thought there was no longer anything more to see, and certainly nothing to want, and certainly nothing to love.
Jane loves him.
He has a self that can be loved.
And when he’s complete, it will be as that self. When Jane finds the cure to the intolerability he can’t control, he’ll cure the rest himself, and no longer be sarcastic and chippy and bad-mannered and wine-soaked. He’ll be free of the ugliness piled atop ugliness. It will be like being born a second time. Carefully, Guildford slips the earrings into Jane’s ears. They suit her. As they suited his mother.
He's never felt prouder and braver than he does entering her coronation banquet by her side. Someone rains white rose petals down upon them, upon her, and her eyes lift, full of gentle awe. Should he tell her who is responsible for this detail? That it wasn’t her mother or sisters or a member of the palace staff? That he saw the roses in the garden himself on his way up from the stables this evening. He’s seen them before, but tonight, with the equally white pearls tucked in his fist, Guildford came to a full stop and stared at them. He walked inside and told someone, “Queen Jane has to have rose petals. They will delight her.” It delights him that they do, that it worked, that he has already made her happy twice tonight—the pearls and the roses.
It's fortunate that there’s so much at the banquet to distract him from thoughts of showering Jane in rose petals while she lies in his bed. Otherwise, Guildford might kidnap the Queen from her own celebration and try out those fantasies immediately. As it is, he only manages to keep his eyes off her for a minute at a time at most before casting his gaze about the room to locate her. The dignitaries probably find him rude, the nobles a bore. The Ethians, if they knew he was one of them, would likely make jokes about a tamed animal in their midst. His best chance at not appearing a complete, full-time fool for his wife is to enter into a conversation that actually engages him. He knows who he needs to talk to.
“Anyone made an attempt on your life lately?” Susannah inquires dryly when he finds her by the wall.
“Good evening,” he replies, as though she said something normal and polite. “Welcome. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Oh, was I meant to do that part first? The lying bit?”
Guildford sighs while Susannah watches him with sharp eyes.
“It’s court,” he says. “The lying bit’s the whole bit.” He frowns. “But I wasn’t lying. It is good to see you, Susannah.”
She lifts her eyebrows in obvious incredulity.
“You know what, Guildford? It’s good to see you too. Good to see you not pointing a knife at me like you were the last time we met.”
He scoffs.
“That was only at the beginning.”
“Well, excuse me. That was the part that made an impression.” She gives him a sideways look like she’s sizing him up. “Even if I doubt you coulda done much with it.”
“I’ll have you know I—”
“Have you ever bested Jane with a blade? Talk to me when you’ve bested Jane.”
Guildford sulks. She didn’t even give him a chance to answer. Even if her assumption is correct. Then again, Susannah doesn’t know that Jane fights dirty—though Guildford doesn’t plan to share how every thought fled his mind the moment Jane pinned him beneath her on the forest floor, her warm weight astride his hips, the steel of his own knife scraping along hers as she brought them both to his throat. He probably shouldn’t savour the memory of his defeat this much, but he does.
“You’re inviting me to talk to you again?” Guildford questions wryly. “I thought you were rather unsure of me.”
Susannah shrugs and says, “Jane seems happy,” as though in explanation. It’s a good one, as far as Guildford is concerned. “As happy as she can be with the world on her shoulders.”
“Not the world. Just England. Well, and Ireland, but—”
Her warning look makes Guildford swallow back the dismissive remark he was about to make about the country which, yes, judging by her accent, is the one from which Susannah hails. Oops.
“As I was sayin’,” Susannah continues, “I’d talk to you again because my friend’s happy, and because I’m somehow standin’ in this room. You didn’t try to talk her out of invitin’ Ethians?”
“No.”
“Even though I tricked her and got a load of your silver candlesticks?”
Guildford doesn’t love being reminded of that, but he can tell Susannah’s just testing him, seeing if she can provoke him. It won’t work. Guildford happens to be pretty happy too.
“I admire her,” he says plainly. Not I helped her or even I agree with her, but his words are still the truth. He wants to live the way he chooses and believes others should be allowed to do the same, even if he can’t understand how they embrace what he can’t bear.
“So do I,” Susannah affirms. There isn’t the smallest hint of teasing confrontation in her tone now.
They were so sincere that it begins to grow awkward. He should circulate, speak with other guests, but he can’t abruptly abandon Susannah to do that. He came over to her in the first place because he wanted to better their relationship. If he leaves her, it isn’t like she can easily find someone else to talk to; there’s plenty of prejudice in this room. Plenty of it lives inside Guildford’s own ribcage, but it stays there, turned inward. Anyway, it’s muted just now, thanks to Jane and the hope she gives him. Hey! Maybe he could catch Jane’s eye and bring her over here. That’ll give Susannah someone else to talk to, and Guildford can be near his wife. Possibly place his hand on her back or twine his fingers through hers.
“Could’ve given the wine dispensers a bit more thought,” Susannah observes.
Guildford’s prepared to be grateful for anything she says to break the silence, but as he follows her gaze to the wine dispensers in question, he realizes she’s swung away from earnestness and back to humour—and this time, not at his expense.
Red wine flows from golden spouts in the shape of lion heads. The longer Guildford watches the liquid pour from their mouths, the more he finds himself agreeing with Susannah’s assessment.
“It does sort of look like blood,” he admits.
“Blood streaming from the mouth of an animal. Not the most sensitive touch when you’ve got Ethian guests.”
“I’ve no idea whose idea that was.”
“Is it meant to be literal, do you think?” Susannah wonders. They both tilt their heads as they consider the lions. “You know, a blatant ‘death to Ethians’ message? Or is it more symbolic, with the lion representing England?”
“And Ireland,” Guildford adds to be facetious.
Susannah glances at him.
“You little shite.”
But he turns to her and sees she’s smiling.
Just as he feels they’re really beginning to get along, some asshole who thinks they’re somebody interrupts them, demanding his attention, expecting him to throw over the Ethian who’s monopolizing his time without a second thought. Guildford’s annoyed enough at being cornered that he’s about to correct the intruder’s assumption, but Susannah slips away before he can waylay her.
Guildford does his best First Husband after that, smiling and shaking hands as he navigates the room. He isn’t especially keen to speak with any of the other Ethians, until he starts to think about it, how this might be his chance to help Jane help him. Asking one of them about a cure directly should save his wife some time, surely. A quick, simple conversation instead of hours pouring over a text requiring scrutiny and translation. At last, he can contribute. It will no longer be the project he tricked her into, that he foisted upon her when they married. They can do this together.
Only it doesn’t go as he hopes. Asking after a cure insults the Ethians, and Guildford extracts himself awkwardly. Saying the wrong thing isn’t just uncomfortable—it might have political ramifications. But maybe they were just fucking with him, like the redheaded man implied. Guildford isn’t impressed by the thought, but he’s ready to look the idiot in order to preserve calm at the banquet. It could be that the Ethians he spoke to were uncommonly sensitive, or uncommonly uncouth. He could ask someone else. He could ask their leader, Archer, if he knows of a cure. Guildford is not yet out of options.
He’s deciding when to approach Archer, how exactly to ask this time, when Jane surprises him, leading him from the room. He watches her earrings swing, the pearls silken in the light.
—
The hurt is enormous. It’s as if a void as deep and dark as the night sky above them is opening in Guildford’s chest. Not even opening: reopening. A sewn-up wound is unstitched.
She just told him there is no cure.
Being near Jane is impossible. Staying is impossible. She wasn’t supposed to hurt him. Not her, not now that he loves her and made love to her. It’s almost religious, the fervour in her face when she speaks of healing England. Guildford shouts at her, and it rips the look from her features as if she wore a mask. But it’s himself he feels he’s exposed—himself, ugly and frightened and alone.
They stand beneath the lattice, down below the courtyard where the guests who’ve spilled out of the banquet stroll and converse. For a moment, he watches their legs. And then he goes.
He can hardly tell he’s moving except Jane’s voice is getting more frantic, calling his name. All he wants is to break into a run. The fire flares up in one of the braziers lining the walkway, and he experiences a second flash, inside his mind: he imagines being a horse, how much more swiftly he could flee. Guildford grits his teeth and tries to shake off the impulse, but it only makes him think of gnashing a bit and tossing his mane. His behaviour suddenly seems so equine to him that he starts to panic, terrified that the other self will invade and his humanity will be lost. He’ll be gone, down this path, galloping alongside this stone wall until he outstrips it and races into the darkness, and Jane will be here, still calling his name.
Guildford stops because it feels worse to leave her. He’s furious with her—or maybe just with himself for his failings. For being one of Jane’s.
He doesn’t turn, but she catches up; in her beautiful gown with her twinkling Medici collar, the crafted crown atop her head spired like a cathedral. She is delicately and powerfully adorned, and Guildford was hoping this night would end with the chance to undo it all. There’s an itch that makes his fingers curl in towards his palms, an itch to take her all apart again, piece by piece, lay every golden thing by and hold her in his arms like he did last night. Just last night. When they believed in one another.
He glances briefly at her face.
“Are you crying because you’re sorry, or only because you’re worried I’ll ruin your party?” he asks cruelly. Hating himself, hating himself, loving her.
Jane doesn’t try to stop the tears, to brush them into her eyes, to roll that which rolls down back up again like a length of carpet. She just cries in silence. He feels as if she cries for them both; somehow, his heart breaks, but it’s her eyes that overflow.
“There’s nothing I can do,” she says despairingly, her voice thick and wet. “I can read books about natural philosophy, but I can’t change how the world works. I can no more prevent metamorphosis than I can walk to the sun! It’s—”
“That’s enough,” he interrupts. He doesn’t let himself speak as loudly as he did before—there are people, just up there, enjoying the courtyard—but his tone is colder than any he’s ever used with her.
Before they can figure out what more to say to each other, if there are any words for this in any language, they hear their names from above. The guests are speculating about what Queen Jane and Lord Guildford Dudley are doing down there by themselves. They must have heard raised voices before Guildford mastered himself and spoke more softly. At least their eavesdropping hasn’t been overly successful. It can’t have been, or they’d know he’s Ethian and it’d be guards shouting their names, not merely speaking them with curiosity.
“Please, Guildford,” Jane begs. In her panic, her tears no longer flow, but he can still see the shiny tracks on her cheeks. “The assumption will be that we’ve had a fight about Division Laws, that we aren’t united. Please. There’s so much at risk.”
“You’re selfish.” He speaks the accusation like a fact.
“I need you,” she says simply, neither challenging nor agreeing with him.
Guildford tells himself it’s manipulation that draws him towards her, that a consort is no better than a pawn in this chess match his wife and her adversaries are playing. Think he never had a prayer against her self-serving machinations is what Guildford must do to permit himself to get close to her instead of running.
“So, then,” he says, gaze hard as he looks down on Jane’s upturned face, “we stole away because we couldn’t help ourselves.”
Her eyes search his, but he won’t let her in.
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Because we put each other first.”
“Yes.”
“Because,” Guildford concludes, “we are very much in love.”
Jane’s eyes fill with tears, but before he’s forced to watch them spill, he kisses her. When her body sways into his grasp, he holds her, and they stumble towards the wall.
The foliage above them provides a partial screen—probably enough of a screen that they could just pretend to kiss, but Guildford doesn’t say this. He barely breaks away from her mouth enough to breathe. The rest is fake: what they imply when they lift the sumptuous fabric of her overskirt and the hoop skirt beneath, when he presses her to the wall and exaggerates the thrust of his hips. Their guests will believe what seems obvious—that Jane and Guildford, in their newlywed ardour, fled into semi-privacy to engage in the marital act.
It’s a performance of their shadows even more than their bodies. The brazier fires stretch their shapes up and along the wall. Guildford catches some of the performance when his eyes flicker open slightly, pining for a glimpse of his wife. He envies them; their shadows can’t feel distrust, or anguish, or betrayal. They can’t really love any more than they can really fuck. His eyes close again because the shadows can’t hold his attention like Jane does, like she actually, truly holds him, clutching his face so he won’t stop kissing her. Oh. He's scared her too.
Guildford argues through the kiss. You can survive without me, his lips insist. I can’t, without you. He keeps trying to separate them—not their mouths, but their lives. Stubbornly, Jane holds them together. The more adamantly she kisses him, the harder he tries to reconcile it with how he feels she abandoned him. She did, didn’t she? She basically told him she was going to stop trying, that she’s given up on a cure. But if she has, there can be nothing else about him to want! So why does she still want him?! Her fingers grip his jaw.
What if he’s only this, this mess who does things like distrust her and yell at her? What if he’s going to keep becoming a horse, every single day until the day of his death—which the horse thing will only serve to speed the approach of? What if he can fix every other part of himself, but not his transformation? Will he be a man worth having? Or did she fall in love with the cured man of their joint imagining? Does Guildford lose, after everything, to a fantasy, a fiction, a shadow?
Impulsively, Guildford shoves away from Jane. Her desperate panting is loud behind him as he strides to the nearest brazier and kicks the pole supporting it. She doesn’t call him back this time, and he kicks and kicks until the pole, which has been sunk firmly into the earth, comes loose and tilts at a wild angle. Chunked charcoal tumbles out, and fire spills like water across the grass, scorching it. But the lawn is damp tonight, preventing the fire from spreading. Either no one up above notices, or it’s all just part of the spectacle: the impassioned Guildford Dudley, showing off for his wife.
Quickly, the flames die, and Guildford and Jane stand in a darkened gap between the remaining braziers. He breathes hard in the aftermath of his destruction. They’re more hidden from their audience, but that hardly matters. He’s realized he has no performance left in him. Just himself.
Guildford goes to Jane. In the shelter of the wall, it smells like smoke and greenery and the wine on his breath. She looks concerned for him, for what he just did, but that was nothing, means nothing; there are hotter things than charcoal rattling around within him, burning him slowly from the inside out.
“You might not care,” he says quietly, “but I do. I care who I am. What I am.”
“I care that you’re unhappy,” Jane replies. Her speech is quick and her eyes pleading as if she’s worried he’ll storm off.
“I have every right to be! How can I be otherwise when you tell me I’m doomed? And you’ve already moved on! All of England is first in your heart!”
“That will never be true.”
Maybe because she’s afraid he would jerk his hand from her grasp, Jane grabs the front of his doublet instead.
“All the world comes before me,” he insists, and he can hear that it’s he who is the selfish one, not Jane like he accused.
“No one does,” she murmurs. Her hand relaxes as she flattens her palm over his heart.
“They should,” Guildford retorts. His heart pounds painfully. Can she feel? “It would be simpler.”
“But it would be a lie.”
Jane gazes steadily up at him. He knows she wouldn’t lie—for him maybe, but not to him. Nor he to her. And yet it suddenly feels as if he has been, that he’s been lying every moment he hasn’t told her aloud that he loves her. But, gods, how can he if she can’t heal him and he can’t forgive her?
“I’m sorry,” she says unexpectedly, lowering her gaze. Her hand slips from his chest to hang at her side. “I guess I’m no good to you now. You only wanted one thing, and I can’t give it to you.”
Guildford is taken aback. It feels as though her words compose the lines he was meant to say. He’s sorry. He’s no good to her. She only wanted one thing, a divorce, but a divorce—especially a royal divorce—means attention, and they cannot be scrutinized while he remains a horse. He’ll be discovered, and then they’ll both die, and it won’t fucking matter who Jane, in all her optimism, hoped to heal. She has never been the problem. It’s him, always him.
He does his best to say all this, but Jane gently places a hand across his lips. He stills. He quiets. When she takes her hand away, he leans forward and kisses her without a second thought. She returns his kiss uncertainly, he can feel it: her doubt and self-flagellation. Guildford pulls his mouth away and takes Jane by her upper arms.
“I wanted that one thing,” he agrees, “but you are what I need.”
“I let you down.”
“I asked for something impossible. And”—Guildford swallows nervously—“I’m sorry but I’m going to have to do it again.”
“What are you asking?” Jane’s hands find his on her arms and pull them down to clasp between their bodies.
“I’m asking you to love me,” he astounds himself by saying. He has to blink a few times. “Because I love you. I love you, Jane.”
He repeats it because his wife appears staggered by the declaration, and because he’s not actually sure he can stop, after guarding his feelings for her so closely.
“I love you whatever my form,” Guildford goes on. “I’m sorry I appointed you my saviour. I know you never asked me to.”
“You’ll love me even if I’m not?” she asks, eyes full of emotion.
“Of course. I’d love you if you were only the girl in the tavern and not queen.”
“Sometimes I wish I were,” Jane admits with a half-smile.
“No one’s ever looked at me the way you did across the room that night. I think I’ll always see that girl, that expression you wore. You’ll live in the corner of my eye.”
“Don’t speak like you’re leaving me.”
Guildford sighs and touches his forehead to Jane’s. He closes his eyes.
“I tried. I can’t.”
Their arms go around each other.
“But you’re angry with me,” she says.
“I wanted a miracle. I’m mostly angry with myself.”
Calm and soft and simple, Jane says, “I love you,” and Guildford opens his eyes, lifting his head.
“You do?”
“I love you more than the whole kingdom can contain. I still love you if you’re angry with me.” She smiles knowingly.
“The anger won’t last,” he promises.
“Good, because I hate it, and I’m no good at being stoic.”
“Shut up, you’re amazing at it.”
“Did you just tell me to shut up?” Jane demands, bristling, but Guildford kisses her with a smile on his face.
“Lovingly,” he insists between kisses.
He feels her smile back, then he kisses her deeply. He has to remind himself to keep his hands low; he wants to run one up the back of her neck, burrow his fingers into her done-up hair, but there’s the crown to worry about, and the fanning collar, and part of him can’t bear to dishevel the beautiful arrangement of her.
Though Jane might long to be the girl she was, lust-struck in a tavern, he finds her a thoroughly convincing queen. What does a queen do but strive for harmony amongst the disparate parts of her country? Guildford recognizes in Jane a similar striving to reconcile the two selves she’s named. There could be more, selves she hasn’t even articulated to herself. He understands. Gods, how he understands. It can be exhausting—except when he has her in his arms, in the dark. He chances skimming fingertips up the side of Jane’s neck when her head tilts as they kiss. He feels the blood jump beneath her skin, touching her below her jaw, then following the line of her jaw up to her ear. He feels the smooth, round pearls. Jane hugs him close to her, inviting his mouth down to hers again and again.
When they come away from the wall, Guildford has Jane on his arm. They look like they’ve been kissing. Sometimes, looks do not deceive.
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Tom Houston, they could never make me hate you Tom Houston. I’m his #1 defender and fan, cause for some reason people genuinely don’t like him and I’ve even seen some people call him bad and I just….how?
What I like about Tom is that when you meet him in Black Friday, at first glance he’s an asshole. He seems very closed off and inconsiderate of other’s people’s feelings. You feel for Emma cause she’s just trying to mend things with her brother in law and you feel for Tim cause he feels left out. But the minute “What Tim Wants”- plays, you immediately see Tom as a whole. He loves his son to death. He loves his wife. He hates himself. He thinks he ruined his families life and that’s why he pushes Emma, the only other family he has left, away. Nick Lang said on Twitter that he also thinks he doesn’t deserve happiness due to this. He’s grappled with so much grief and self loathing, which is probably why Jane’s spirit in Nightmare Time is so gaslighty because he believes he deserves to be treated this way. Not only that but Tom is good with kids. He cares about Tim, he cares about Lex and Hannah. Tom might be a little full of it at times but he’s genuinely a good guy. Also he’s freaking hilarious, Dylan Saunders performance and line reads never fail to crack me up. But with how people speak of Tom, you’d think they never fully watched Black Friday or listened to his songs. He’s such a complex and emotionally distraught character, no one even talks about the fact that he has PTSD from the war AND the crash.
I also saw Hathetfeild fans on my twitter timeline not like Tom Houston anymore because of the car incident. Unpopular opinion but I feel like people take that scene wayyy too seriously. It’s supposed to be so absurd and over the top, a moment to laugh at. On a character perspective, Tom still clearly loves Becky, but we know that he’s constantly tackled with the guilt of what happened to Jane that he’s willing to do anything for her, deep down he still loves her, even if she’s gaslighting him constantly. So yeah Tom Houston get behind me cause they don’t understand you like I do.🤺🤺🤺
#hatchetfield#starkid#team Starkid#starkid black friday#Black Friday#Black Friday musical#tom houston#tim houston#Jane Perkins#hatchetfield starkid#nightmare time starkid#nightmare time
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California girl. Jane Hopper x Fem!reader
Summary: El mets someone new in California and doesn't understand how her actions affect other people.
Warning: period typical homophobia, internalized homophobia, bullying, reader being called lesbo, cheating, lying, angst, slightly stalkerish behavior (but not in a bad way reader is just observate about El/Jane and nervous to talk to her.)
'Jane...' you watch closely as the girl passed you in the hall, her tranquil presence invading your personal space but you couldn't seem to make yourself unsettled by it. If anything the smell of Fresh linens, Maple Syrup, and slight undertones of smoke made you want her to come closer. It was peaceful. An aroma that had began growing more familiar by the day after sitting behind her in class for so long.
"Jane."
She stopped walking and her head turned around quickly to see who could possibly be calling for her. You stood completely frozen hand slammed over your own mouth. 'That wasn't supposed to happen' holding in a groan at your own idiocy you watch as her eyebrows knead together in confusion, her head tilts to the side, and her wide eyes wonder a little longer around the hall. Her Brother, Will, seemed to noticed she'd stopped walking and back tracked to check up on her. Placing his hand on her arm and pulling her over to the side of the hallway out of on coming traffic.
"El. Are you ok?" He mumbles gently, not quite a whisper but just loud enough that you could hear from the short distance between you. El. Learning something new about her made your stomach twirl. Maybe it was her middle name. Jane Elle Hopper? Perhaps it was short for something though...Jane Eleanor? Eleanor Jane? Your mind couldn't help but wonder off completely.
Unfortunately, The Warning bell sounded pulling you back to reality.
The rest of the day was blandly normal until your third period English. Your favorite class of the day where you got to sit behind Jane sometimes hearing her talk to her brother about their history class next . Or small things about home. Over the months you'd slowly been soaking in small details not completely on purpose you weren't necessarily spying on her you just happen to be right there. You had learn that they had an older brother named Jonathan, she really REALLY liked waffles but her favorite dinner was cheeseburgers so she got excited on days when her brother got fast food for dinner. They never outright said it but you learned that Jane was adopted by the numerous times she mentioned never having tried something and Will furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her as if she was crazy or the few times she referred to her mom as Joyce by accident. You learned that she loved the colors yellow and purple (much to teachers annoyance because she only did her homework in purple pen) but she hated the color red. All of it, every shade, but especially the dark ones. just small things you picked up were your favorite part about her.
But today was different, Will was gone from class which wasn't uncommon. He often went home due to bad headaches but Jane never stayed alone. The image of her sitting all alone at her desk was enough to throw you off when you came into the room. You pause In the doorway and stared at her for a moment but Jane always seemed to have some kind of sense. She always knew you were staring. she turned and met your eyes and flash you a smile. You felt relief, at least just a bit, she was so pretty. Your admiration for her had been cut off very quickly as you were pushed through the door by another rowdy teen and you quickly stumble to your seat apologizing to the person behind you class started normally nothing seemed wrong other than will not being present there was no talk between the two siblings but the chatter around you was enough to distract from the silent Jane. He wasn't until a few moments before the bell rang that everything went to shit. There was a tack on your shoulder and turned around to be met with a pretty girl with curly hair and a pair of glasses purse on her bulb shaped nose.
"Can you pass this to Jane?"
You took the note cautiously it wasn't a secret that Jane had been bullied often but the girl gave you a smile and winked, "it's good I promise."
You sigh and feel the strange inkling that you might regret this but you pass the note forward anyway and just a few seconds later there's cluttering and there's the sound of backpacks zipping and feet shuffling as most kids rush out of the classroom but Jane remains and her face turns bright red as she turns back to look at you packing your things.
"You think I'm pretty?" She whispers meekly staring at you with her big doe eyes.
You did think she was pretty but how did she know that? had you been obvious in your staring? No, that didn't make sense Jane was a pretty oblivious girl, naive in nature, she was very blunt and didn't understand things unless you said them to her directly. So how did she know? you fumble through a few phrases before you managed to get out
"I um...I...what?"
"The note? You said I'm...pretty."
"The note is-..." You felt your face get warm as you become overwhelmed you had gone from contently being in the background of her life to suddenly feeling like the center point of an episode in her show. You glance at the note hanging loosely Jane's hand. 'i think you're so pretty,Jane. I'm a huge lesbo for you." And in a handwriting not like your own at all was signed your name A couple of snickers could be heard from the door returned and see the girl from before the one with the glasses standing next to the asshole and mythic bitch that was Angela.
"aw look. They'll be on a date in no time." She smiled and it was wicked and sinister one of those looks that made you just want to wipe it off someone's face. filled with both embarrassment and rage you quickly collected your things, spilling a few empty papers for being too upset to go back as you roughly push past Angela and her posse and make it halfway to your locker before you could feel the tears in your eyes.
They'll be on a date in no time... The phrase rattled around in your head. You couldn't date Jane it didn't work that way. You'd gone quickly into the bathroom hiding away from the world... from Angela... from her.
You tuck your way into a stall and let the tears fall down your face with hush breaths and chest hiccups why did they have to say that why did you have to be involved? Jane probably thinks that you sent it to fuck with her. Your brain begins convincing you she probably thinks you're gay and in love with her. The realization makes your body shake. Were you in love with her?
"Y/n?" A voice called out from the door. "Are you in here? It's...Jane."
You hold your breath and wait hoping she'd leave. "Ok I guess not..."
"wait." Your voice is wet with tears and doesn't sound quite like you but you slide your body closer to the stall door and lean your back against it "Don't go."
Jane clammers down in front of the door and you can feel the heat of her back pressed against yours at the small opening at the bottom. "Are you...ok?"
"no."
"why not?"
"the Note." You grumbled. She really didn't understand.
"I think your note was very nice. I think you're pretty too." She beams.
"I...I didn't write the note."
The bathroom grew silent and then Jane let out a small "oh."
"not that I don't think you're pretty. I think you're gorgeous. Just... That word they called me."
"Lesbo?" She sounds innocent about it and you get a feeling that she doesn't know what it means but her tone seems displeased about it. Likes she's upset that it's upsetting you.
"is a mean word. For girls who like girls." You say and did silent for a while your brain starts to wander 'great now she thinks I'm weird'
"that's stupid." She finally decided
"what?"
"why can't girls like girls?"
"because..." You start. Why COULDN'T they? Because they couldn't have kids? Good you didn't want any anyway. "I don't know."
"I'd like to go on a date with you."
"huh?"
"Angela she said we'd be on a date soon" she stopped as if to let the information sink in "I'd like to go on a date. With you."
You push yourself away from the door quickly and unlock it forgetting that she was leaning on the other side. She falls inward and her head falls into your lap. She gives you a cheeky smile. "Hello."
"did you mean it?" You don't smile back and instead wipe away at your wet face in an attempted to look pretty for her.
"yes, a date! For cheese burgers."
"I...i think I...I'd like that." You manage slowly
"We are very late to class." Jane hums thoughtfully
"Yeah..."
"Maybe we can...skip?" She looks at you nervous as if not sure that that was the right word. But you just look at the "good girl" Jane in disbelief. "Hello?"
"y-yeah! We can go get freezy drinks from the corner store and be back before your ride is here to get you."
"freezy...drink?"
"you're going to love them!" The two of you pick up your things off the floor and scary to the entrance to the bathroom, you stick your head out and look both ways before pushing the door open grabbing Jane's soft hands and pulling her towards the school exit. Running past lockers and classrooms to make it out the door without being spotted. To your left you could hear Jane laughing once you made it outside of the building and you glace to see her head thrown back in genuine happiness she looked beautiful. The rest of the Walk was filled with banter. Jane trying to get to know you through her limited understanding of social norms asking things like your favorite color and what you liked to eat until you made the short walk from school to the nearest 7-Eleven just a few blocks away.
"ta-da" you wave your hands as if you cast it some sort of magic spell in front of you I should showcase the slushy machine filled with four flavors, the mandatory blue and red accompanied by Cherry Coke and green apple. "Freezy drink machine."
She seemed almost captivated by the way that the liquid swirled in the little containers. "Green is very pretty." She muttered. Tapping the plastic with her finger. You grab a cup from the sleeve on the wall and press it into her hand.
"here you just pull this down like this" you demonstrate carefully watching her face light up at the task. It was wonderful how she found joy in the mundane. You pick your own flavor and find the lid and straw before helping her do the same. "there. Perfect. Want a snack?"
Jane looked thoughtfully around the store until her eyes will be under rotating hot dog station. "Hotdog."
"one hot dog for the lady coming right up." You smile venturing up front to talk to the cashier a polite older lady who found the two of you cute. It wasn't often that she seen a kid at your age that hadn't tried a slushie before. She was a bit chatty but not nearly enough to stop you from smiling. You were on a sorta date.
The weekend that passed in anticipation of seeing Jane the following Monday was excruciatingly slow.
Weeks pass and new partnership became almost routine. Jane met you enthusiastically everyday at the front entrance of the school the two of you ate lunch together in the corner of the cafeteria just the two of you and her brother, Will. Sometimes in the morning you brought her a slushie. Blue or green but never red, Jane didn't like red. Sometimes in the morning she brought you a toasted waffle stored in a ziplock bag 'to keep the warm' she'd said. But everyday now you chatted in class instead of listening to her chatter with her brother. Everyday you walked her to her ride home.
And on the weekend you went to 7-Eleven. You had been planning to make time for a real cheeseburger date just like she had requested. But it seemed between the two of you something was always coming out if you were free Jane was busy hanging out with her brother if she was free you were busy with your extracurriculars it just never seemed to be a good time but this weekend you knew it it had to be perfect Jane hadn't expressed having any plans begin and you hadn't either
That's how you found yourself fidgeting on the Byer's front door anxiously holding three nearly perfect daisy's. It wasn't chained that opened the door what her older brother Jonathan met a couple of times when you walked her to his car. He looks high.
"Uh..." He glanced over his shoulder, you wince, he was definitely high. "Hey man."
"is Jane home?" You decide to play along talking to him as if you didn't know he was absolutely blitzed.
"Yeah...yeah she's got um....guests from back home though..." He explains with an empathetic frown. She hadn't said anything was happening this weekend a friend coming from home seemed like something you tell your girlfriend.
"Oh that's okay." you lie through your teeth. "Tell her I dropped by?"
"Yeah, yeah...I will."
"Jonathan, Will says who's at the door? Is it pizza..." A boy says he's tall, with long hair, and a face like he's hiding a frog in his mouth. He's holding hands with a girl. He's holding hands with Jane. Your brain swirls.
Jane comes around the corner holding hands with a boy you've never met before. He must be their...guest.
"Jane." You smile. Despite everything, upset she hadn't told you she had plans and being sad you hadn't been spending a lot of time together recently, you smile. She smiles back and gives a meek wave.
"y/n!" She rushes to hug you and the smell of maple syrup and markers is comforting.
"oh oh!" She pulled back excitedly once again grabbing the boys arm and pulling him towards you. "You have to meet Mike."
"This is Mike, my boyfriend. Mike this is Y/n, my Girlfriend." And your world shattered around you. Suddenly there was only Mike and El and how close they stood together. Your finger twitched in anger but your eyes felt heavy. It bugged you that you could tell Mike didn't feel angry, but maybe he just didn't understand. Maybe he thought girlfriend like friend who's a girl. they hang out they must be the best of friends. But you knew that wasn't right. There had been no way Jane only saw you as a friend. She had kissed you. You were meant to go on a date...for cheese burgers.
"hi, Mike." You extend your hand. "I'm sorry I must have gotten the wrong day I didn't know Jane had friends over. I thought we were supposed to hang out today...my mistake."
#sailor's dreamhouse#Jane hopper x reader#eleven hopper#eleven hopper x reader#eleven x reader#stranger things s4#stranger things x reader
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A Daddy Hcs! Jane And R
— daddy jane banner headcanons
pairing: jane banner x fem!reader
content warnings: minors dni. nsfw! smut, top!jane, bottom!reader, daddy kink, dom/sub themes, mentions rough sex, strap-on sex (r! receiving), oral, praise kink.
note: i love jane so much haaaaaaa (also this is not proofread)
Jane is a very protective woman when it comes to you. Even though work always seems to have her occupied for almost every minute of the day, she never forgets to call or text you, just to say “Hi” or check in to see if you need anything. And while she’s not a particularly controlling person, she does prefer to be with you at all times when you choose to go out, even on simple errands like going to the grocery store, stopping by the library, etc.
In her line of work, she knows very well the horrible possibilities that criminals were capable of committing, and she’d never forgive herself if anything were to happen to you, especially when she has the skills and abilities to protect you.
But after a long hard day at work, Jane’s favorite thing in the world is coming home to her sweet little princess. She loves being able to see you in the evening along with a nice dinner that you worked so hard to make for her and always kisses you passionately on the lips after spending the whole day thinking about it — oftentimes thoughts of you distracting her from work.
She does harbor some sense of guilt, especially in her line of work — having to be so busy all the time, sometimes being out of town for certain cases that she is working on. She misses you all the time and hates to feel this way, but she makes sure to spend most of her time making things up to you which always leans towards spoiling you, buying you things and giving more rewards much more than punishments. After all, you are her baby.
Sometimes, when Jane comes home and greets you with a searing kiss, she’d feel bad when she gets way too distracted while kissing you, that the food that you made for her becomes long forgotten when all she can think about is taking you. She is sweet, especially when it comes to you — always wanting to keep her precious baby satisfied.
There are days that can be particularly rough — days when she gets on an annoying case, days when her boss would give her hell, or days when she is just so tired and grumpy. It’s these days when she needs to take her frustrations out on you, when she needs to be rough, because you’re so so good for her. Always such a good girl, and it makes her proud each time, especially when you’re so good at letting her handle you any way she sees fit.
She can be quite impatient at times, always demanding things she wanted from you and leaving no time for you to protest. She’s firm and most definitely stern when she tells you whatever it is she wanted and watches you closely as you follow her orders.
She definitely loves bending you over against a surface and taking you from behind with her strap buried deep inside of you. “Turn around and bend over for daddy,” she would say after you lead her into the kitchen of your shared home, unable to wait any longer when she sees how good you look as you walked.
Jane is also most definitely into hair pulling, whether it’s you pulling her hair or her pulling yours. She just loves it; loves it when you moan as she does, pulling you close as you take her strap deep in your cunt, or when her face is in between your legs, eating you out with vigor while your hands are pulling at her hair harshly when it feels too good.
She has a thing about you undoing her belt for her, unbuttoning her pants and pulling it down to reveal the strap she’s been wanting you to put your mouth on. It just turns her on so much when you undress her, when you’re on your knees, being such an obedient girl, following her orders. She absolutely loves it when you’re on your knees, looking up at her with those pretty eyes of yours, her hand pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail as you gag on her strap.
“That’s it… Taking daddy so good in your mouth, baby…” she would say, stroking your face while her strap is deep down your throat.
And she always praises you, of course, only because she loves you so much and her baby never fails to be such a good girl for daddy.
— navigation! | masterlist!
#bellaveux writes!#jane banner x reader#jane banner#wind river#elizabeth olsen#elizabeth olsen x reader#headcanons#jane banner fanfiction
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A paltry 3 people have asked me to expand on my opinion that Clara (who I like) is bad for the Doctor, so here I go below.
Strap in, this will be long. I disliked Clara back when her tenure was happening live, but upon rewatching the show now, with my husband, I completely changed my mind and grew to really appreciate her and cried when she died. I like Clara. But I came to this conclusion you’re about to read during that rewatch. In a nutshell, Clara and the Doctor’s relationship is unhealthy. Stop wait let me explain-
*hands you the nutshell* First. The show itself acknowledges that this Doctor/companion relationship is something unprecedented and ugly and bad for both of them towards the end. Why? Is it Clara? YES AND NO children. Clara as a companion, personality-wise, is not any different or special than many Classic Who companions, and Jenna Coleman is ridiculously likeable as Clara. I know Clara is The Impossible Girl (because Moffat can’t write 100% ordinary people), and I know she has met all of the Doctors up to Twelve at least once, but take away her decision to throw herself into his timeline – take away the fact that the Master literally orchestrated events so that Clara and the Doctor would travel together because their personalities would create something dangerous and unhealthy in the end – and Clara herself really is just a twenty-something who wants to travel and acts like she’s the coolest person in the room. So Clara herself on the surface wasn’t the catalyst for the relationship becoming unhealthy. At least not the way she was written in the beginning. At first, it’s the Doctor making big Red Flag decisions. And I say that with so much love towards Matt Smith’s Doctor, who is dearly missed in these trying times. The Doctor meets the first version of Clara (from his perspective) as a barmaid/nanny in 20th century London. She’s exceptional (and unnecessarily flirty because Moffat can’t write women who don’t lust after the protagonist) and the Doctor invites her to travel with him. This is huge because the Doctor has just spent who-knows-how-long mourning the Ponds, who he was not ready to lose and who he had grown increasingly afraid of losing before he lost them. He sits on a cloud and has sworn off of travelling or helping anyone because he is that sick of losing people. He’s hurting and he doesn’t want to go through something like that again. The Ponds were just the latest in a very long line of lost people—remember, directly before Amy and Rory, the Doctor had to say goodbye to Donna, Martha, Wilf, Mickey, Jackie, Jack Harkness, Sarah Jane Smith oh my goodness, and Rose Tyler. And then he loses the Ponds. It’s agony. And it just keeps happening to him over and over again, and the Eleventh Doctor is especially vulnerable because he’s so tender-hearted and raw from Tennant’s losses, and this is the first time he’s lost companions with this face. The Eleventh Doctor is literally described by Moffat as the incarnation of the Doctor who chooses to forget. He’s consistently not addressing things like Gallifrey, the Time War, Rose, Donna, Martha, etc. When he’s reminded of them, the only thing he really reacts with is a strained admission of guilt (Let’s Kill Hitler and The Doctor’s Wife, anyone?). Eleven does not focus on what he has lost and worked really, really, selfishly-at-times hard to preserve the safety of the Ponds in particular. And then he loses them and throws a Doctor pity party on a cloud in a top hat.
Enter Nanny Clara, and she reminds him of what he’s missing and how things should be and helps him get his mojo back. Great, good. But she also reminds him of this one chick in the Dalek Asylum who begged the Doctor for help and was already dead. And the Doctor not only loves a mystery, but hates losing (losing people in particular). So he invites this Clara to come away with him and begin his never-ending adventure all over again, because she seems perfect for the job. And then she dies. Just like Oswin the crazy Dalek. Just like Amy and Rory, and the DoctorDonna, and Rose Tyler on the list of fatalities during the incident at Canary Wharf. Like Adric. But the Doctor doesn’t give up and pout in the 20th century this time. Instead, he gets determined to figure out what is connecting Nanny Clara and Dalek Clara, and determined to find a version of this mystery girl who can travel with him and not die this time. Third time’s the charm.
He finds Clara Oswald in the present, saves her life, freaks her out with his desperation to befriend her, and then she finally comes away with him. It’s played incredibly sweet specifically because it’s the Doctor trying to entice a companion and working for it, because he’s already seen she’s the one—twice—and is determined to keep her. This is an inversion of what usually happens, which is that the companion has to prove themselves worthy of the position to the Doctor during a meet-cute adventure. Classy. Fun. But we see from that point forward that the Doctor is kind of…weirdly obsessed with Clara. And not just because she’s appeared as three different-but-the-same people in his life lately, but because he’s the man who forgets and he lost people and never deals with that, and now he has this girl who he’s been unable to save twice before and he wants to make sure that doesn’t happen again. What’s worse, Clara becomes “the ultimate companion”, saving the Doctor throughout all his lifetimes by jumping into his timeline so she’s technically companion to all of him at one point. This is bad because not only is it not fair (as the gamers call it, it’s OP, yes I’m hip with the kids) it solidifies to the Doctor that she is the culmination of all his past failures in companion tenures.
She’s not the ultimate companion; she’s the ultimate do-over.
He’s obsessed with keeping Clara safe. He’s obsessed with keeping her with him. It’s not because Clara is this gorgeous, super-special, Not Like Other Girl(s). It’s not because he’s madly in love with her (though Moffat wants repeatedly to be able to imply that without properly saying it because he can’t write a female who is not in lust with the protagonist, hey let go of my soapbox I’m using that-). It’s not even because he lost two Claras previously and he feels really bad about that. It's because he’s projecting every single failure to keep a companion onto this one girl. The Doctor is trying so hard not to be controlled by the circumstances around him. He is trying so hard to keep this one, just this one, with him this time that he kind of turns into a withdrawal maniac when she’s in danger or choosing to do anything other than travel with him. The Master (Missy) orchestrated events so that Clara and the Doctor would be able to travel together because it was obvious the two of them would destroy each other in the end. The Doctor was such a person (Eleven) at such a time in his long life that could not stand the idea of losing one more friend and would do anything to keep history from repeating itself. He has to have Clara. He can’t quit Clara. She’s all of them. She’s everyone. And poor Clara—Clara is great, but being with the Doctor brings out only the worst in her. The woman is obsessed with herself. She was better off before he came around! Keeping pace with the Doctor, traveling the universe with him, feeling like she had something with him no one else could touch—all of that inflated her sense of importance; she has to be special. She has to be in control. She’s bossy and confident and as long as the Doctor is around, she’s the most incredible human being in her species and he is lucky to have her. That’s how he makes her feel—because it’s obvious he can’t let her go. (“Traveling with you made me feel really special.”) And worse, Clara can’t let him go—but not even specifically the Doctor. The Doctor, to Clara, is only as valuable as he makes her feel. It’s very sad because the two of them are kind of convinced they’re best friends and that’s why they’re together, but that’s not it. They’re not best friends. They’re toxic.
(Best friends do not trick other best friends, lie to them, threaten their way of life and only home to get their boyfriends back and then say “I’m sorry but I’d do it again”. Best friends do not notice that their best friend is there for them in spite of that line of action and then still disregard their best friend’s safety and needs in order to get what they themselves want above all else. Death in Heaven, I hate you.) And! Clara was so rattled by Eleven changing into Twelve. The sweet young man who flirted with her and made her feel so romantically important was gone, now there’s this grisly old fella who is rude to her and makes disparaging personal remarks about her physical appearance, and who doesn’t like hugs. But they’re not done. Because now the relationship has changed even further—we went from “he likes me and he should because I am Important” and “she’s staying with me and she should because I am gonna keep her safe and it won’t be like last time(s) and that’s why she’s special, that’s why she’s Impossible” to “I’m with him because he needs me and because I am Important like he is” and “she’s staying with me and she should because I am gonna keep her safe and she’s still special and she’s still Impossible and I can’t lose her no matter what”.
Clara is controlling and the Doctor is controlling. Missy would have you believe the Doctor won’t be controlled, but that’s just another form of control. The Doctor can’t stop travelling with Clara. Twelve will not let her rest, Twelve will not let her die. Clara will not stay home, Clara will not put anyone or anything else before herself, before traveling and saving the day and feeling special. In fact, it’s gotten to the point where the Doctor treats Clara with such reverence, she actually believes she’s 100% his equal and should be him. That was not a typo. I did not say she should be like him. I said she thinks she should be him. It gets worse and worse as time goes on. Clara thinks she can be the Doctor. She can travel anywhere, she can do whatever she wants, and she will always win. Because she’s important. Because she’s special. She doesn’t realize that she can’t, and that that’s not who the Doctor is anyway. And the Doctor watches Clara get eaten up by this addiction to travel, addiction to heroics. Clara loses Danny and that’s her last tether to normal life. It’s sad because Danny was twice the man anybody expected him to be and he was almost there, almost good enough for Clara to stay and be safe with. But the Doctor and time and space are a tough act to follow, and when Danny died, Clara felt she was owed better. She wasn’t angry because Danny was young and she loved him and she wanted better for him. She was angry because as a time traveling hero, she deserved to have her boyfriend alive and not hit by an ordinary car in the middle of an ordinary day on Earth. (But she wouldn’t have stayed with him anyway, and she wasted so much time with him treating him like he wasn’t special enough and then it was too late. If the Doctor had not been part of the equation, treating her like she hung the stars and making her believe it, they could have been happy. She could have been okay.)
More adventures, more close calls. At this point everything likeable about Clara in the past has faded away because she is just not the same person anymore. She’s ruined. And it’s her fault, and it’s the Doctor’s fault. Clara isn’t addicted to travel or heroics. Now she’s addicted to feeling important. She’s addicted to being special. And she needs to feel that so badly that she decides she is the Doctor and can do what he does and ignores the danger and ignores the rules and the risks and what it might do to the Doctor to lose her, and she faces the stupid raven. This girl legit dies a painful, scary death because she thought she could do whatever she wanted, control every situation, and it couldn’t possibly turn out badly because she’s Clara Oswald, the Impossible Girl. Did the Doctor ever give her any idea that that wasn’t true? Didn’t he worship the ground she marched on? She dies for it. And the Doctor, bless his poisoned hearts, cannot handle it. No way, it is not happening again. Not Clara! He’s avoided her death every other time. It’s not even about Clara anymore—Clara is actually a pretty rotten friend to the Doctor at this point; he’s nothing to her, not really, just a means to an end (and you can tell because when push comes to shove, she will choose herself and time and space over him, and over any sense at all, but if anyone asks, that’s her best friend and do you know why? because it’s very special to be the Doctor’s best friend). It’s not about her, it’s about them. About Adric, and River, and Rose, and Donna, and Tegan and Susan and Ace and Vicki. It’s about Ian and Barbara and Wilfred Mott. Not this time, universe! Not this time, Clara! "I have a duty of care." "Which you take very seriously, I know." Twelve goes through the most contrived, horrendous, comically-lengthened torture Moffat can think of (Heaven Sent) and comes out on the other side only to bring Clara back from the dead. Think of that. The woman is actually very long dead at this point and the Doctor braves literal Gallifrey to pull her out of the moment before the end. He breaks every single rule he has ever, ever had. And he does it violently, are you telling me for real that Clara is the best companion for him? She drives him to do right, to be the greatest he can be? She helps, she brings him back to who he’s always tried to be? No she doesn’t. She drives him to total depraved madman status because they can’t quit each other, and no, not the cutesy quippy Madman With A Box type of madman.
What makes Clara so different from all the other people the Doctor had to lose and who remained lost? Nothing at all. Nothing except that the Doctor decided this one isn’t going anywhere. Because she is every companion to him. This poor woman has a sack full of the Doctor’s past-companion baggage tied to her back but to her it feels light, because he treats it outwardly like a pedestal. So he “brings her back” and she figures out what he’s done and what he went through to do it, and they both learn that their relationship is actually so toxic that together, they would destroy the universe just to have what they want. Because that’s what they bring out in each other. The Doctor has to keep Clara safe, and Clara has to be special. They’re so unhealthy it affects everything around them, to the point where the Time Lords literally have a name for their destructive dynamic in their prophecies called the Hybrid (go lie down, Moffat). And the Master knew that because Time Lord…stuff…and deliberately ensured that Clara and the Doctor get together.
Luckily the Doctor is still, somewhere, miraculously, himself—so he recognizes at last that this is going too far and it’s bad, it’s all bad. The only solution, because he still can’t just return Clara to her fate, is to wipe her memory (hello Donna) of him so that they aren’t together but she also doesn’t have to die. So that he still doesn’t have to deal with losing people. And then the very worst part, writing-wise, happens. Clara complains and decides she must be allowed her memories, she’s entitled to them (too special to lose her memories!) but goodie for her, she doesn’t lose them. The Doctor, instead, loses his memories of her. Now, this is ultimately a good thing for him because of the horse I beat to death over there, don’t make eye contact, but—how sad is it that he still has to lose? That he still can’t keep someone, even after all that carnage? The healing process is beginning and he’ll be a better man than ever after this, but take a moment to mourn because that really sucks for him.
Okay here’s the worst part—Clara lives. And not only does Clara live, Clara lives forever. Clara is immortal. Clara gets her own Tardis. Clara gets her own immortal companion! (Ashildr.) Who learned something? Anyone? Not Clara! Who grew as a person around here? No one? Not Clara! Poor Clara Oswald, who started out nicely enough and likeable enough, at least on level with Classic Who companions, is ruined in the end. She gets exactly what she wants. She’s the Ultimate Companion! She’s met all the Doctors. He even fancied her at one point, well, how could he not? She didn’t die, she didn’t learn anything, she didn’t even really grow, she just got worse. Danny died and the Doctor lost, but Clara got to keep her memories, lose her mortality, and gain her own infinite time travelling machine. She became the Doctor. Yippee. Neither of them were made better by the other’s company. Rose Tyler said more than once, at least in three different ways, that the Doctor’s influence, that the opportunity to travel in time and space and help, brings out the extraordinary qualities ordinary people already have. He taps into their potential to be better, even better than him sometimes. The human factor, I call it. And they inspire him to be better, which is important for someone who is essentially immortal and can essentially go anywhere and do anything he likes. Wilfred said it, too, that Donna was better with the Doctor. But the codependency, the noxious way the Doctor and Clara interacted with each other—their whole relationship—it’s devoid of that improving quality. It wasn’t at first, at least not on Clara’s side, but that’s what it turned out to be. At least Moffat acknowledges that in Hell Bent, but he does it more in a way that is trying to communicate to you that that’s how deep and special the Doctor and Clara’s relationship is, isn’t it so important, isn’t it the best companion/Doctor relationship ever? Isn’t she hot, isn’t he whipped? Have you ever seen such devotion? Gag me. He doesn’t say it like it’s a bad thing. He’s just trying to win the 60-year-long companion race. And Clara and the Doctor both suffer for it.
I still like Clara. I blame the writing entirely for how things turned out, because I genuinely, really enjoyed her this last rewatch, and I wish that she’d met a better end. I wish she’d stayed with Danny and figured out what Danny was trying to tell her all along—that normal life is precious and worth it, and worth giving up the big sparkly universe for if you find someone else to live for besides yourself. I wish she’d sacrificed herself to save the Doctor in the present, not just throughout his past, because she proved that at one point she was capable of that. I wish she’d come to terms with the fact that she couldn’t control everything, couldn’t have what she wanted every time, and then chose to learn from that and use what she could control for the benefit of others (including the Doctor). I wish she’d gotten out the way Martha had gotten out. And I really, really wish the Doctor hadn’t had to prolong the pain he was always going to feel when someone else had to say goodbye. Anyway, that’s the essay a trifling three lovely people asked me for. Not really an essay, just word vomit. If you read it all, please let me know what you think! I could be wrong.
#clara oswald#clara oswin oswald#whouffle#whouffaldi#matt smith#jenna coleman#doverstar's thoughts#clara#the doctor#oswin#dw#doctor who#bbc#clara/doctor#doctor/clara#claradoctor#doctorclara#elevenclara#twelveclara#twelve x clara#clara x eleven#clara x twelve#eleven x clara#moffat#moffat era#thoughts#opinion piece
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˗ˏˋPut em higher than Mary Jane˗ˏˋ
Ingredients : Sugar, cinnamon, lemon, sour candy
I got this idea from this FIC‼️Not my original idea‼️
୨୧ Warnings : Cursing, readers death, violence, blood, maybe angst
Summary : Your sick and tired of being a Mary Jane or a Gwen Stacy, your sick of being merely a love interest, your sick of watching yourself die while spiderman can never get over it.
⟢ Participants : Miles (1610)
W/c : 770
“After all death loves Gwen Stacy”
“No…no…no..NO!” Miles cried out holding your lifeless body in his arms…
You died…Again, an endless loop of the tragic spiderman stories that you only serve one purpose, to be a love interest, nothing more.
Your just a pawn in someone else’s game, if they want to kill you off they’ll do it, no hesitation…All the Gwen Stacy’s are dead…except one, ghost spider…spider woman, what’s interesting about her you may ask? She’s the only one to be bitten by a spider..
And the only one who’s still alive…..:)
Your a mix between the two, either way they both end up dying, spiderman is the main character after all, your merely a side character, your sick and tired of watching yourself die in other dimensions, you know you’ll be next, it’s only a matter of time before you’ll be lying in your grave…
But you refuse to follow those “cannon events” you’ll find away to live, you’ll find a way to break the cycle, Gwen has managed to “cheat” death, you’ll do the same as well.
Ms. Morales always considered you like a daughter, you were always welcomed into their home, and you would always spend your time with Miles goofing off.
But lately, you both have been drifting far apart, he’s hiding something from you, and he knows your suspicions of him, he’s always coming to your window injured, having you worried sick tendering his wounds while you scold him, and he won’t tell you where he’s been, won’t tell how he got injured, having you so worried you exploded his phone with calls and texts, he knows he’s taking you for granted. He doesn’t deserve you.
Lately, all he ever talks about is “Gwanda” Apparently she’s from South Africa, you basically know everything about her, and you haven’t even met her! She seems like a nice person, but the way he speaks about her makes you feel….
Jealous..?
You wish he would talk like that with you, always bringing her up when your speaking to him
“Oh, gwanda does the same thing yk? She’s i-“
“Yes miles! I know she’s in a band, I know she plays the drums, I know everything single thing about her!” You retorted
“You make everything about her! Even when I’m speaking to you about something that has nothing to do with her, you always bring her up! But you can’t help it can you?” You sighed
Miles had a saddened expression
“You know I didn’t mean it like that, I just like talking to you about this stuff yk?” Miles replied
“You talk about her so much, I wished you’d talk about me like that, the way you so engaged just to tell me a simple story about her” you snapped
“And you’re always coming through my window injured, having me worried sick and you can you at least tell me where you’ve been? You spat
“Where do you go miles? Because lately you’ve been sneaking out and coming back hurt” you hissed
“Look, I- I just can’t tell you right now, maybe in the future alright” Miles replied
“You know Miles, maybe we need a break from each other, we’ll talk when you tell me what you’ve been hiding” you responded as you walked away, leaving Miles, not bothering to turn around…
He knew he fucked up…….Real bad.
Miles went home that night, contemplating if he should tell you what he’s been hiding all this time. After Uncle Aaron’s death, you always came to comfort him during those hardships, no matter how many times he pushed you away or isolated himself from the world, you were always there for him.
You were now walking home, and it was raining hard, you hated the way your clothes clung to your body, prohibiting some of your movements. You pulled up your hoodie in frustration, why was Miles always bringing her up?
You arrived home soaking wet, the air was crispy, and the house was awfully quiet.
“Mom? Dad? I'm home?” you spoke loudly
No response
“Maybe they aren't home right now…” she muttered to herself
You take off your jacket leaving it in the laundry basket near your room, you notice a note on your door.
“We won't be home for a few days, I left you some food in the fridge, you can heat it up for dinner. - Mom”
You sighed entering your room and collapsing onto the bed, today’s been a rough day..Your heart aches for being to harsh on miles, but who could blame you? He’s hiding something…
And you’ll get to the bottom of it
#﹑ ୨୧ My fics!! 🧸⟢#miles molares#atsv miles#miles 1610#earth 1610 miles morales x reader#spiderman 1610#miles morales 1610#1610 miles x reader#astv angst
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You’re spiderman?! Peter parker/ Spiderman x Venom! Reader
A/n: bold is venom, words in bold are his opinions, bold in italics is you when you're ‘merged’ with venom, also toby peter was in mind when writing this but go ham on whichever peter you want it to be. Might write a part two lol.
Glass clinked against the metal stirring stick you were using to slosh around the blue liquid. You wanted to get the solution right on the first try. Not because you were an overachiever, but because you wanted to go home already. That and the little Alien that inhabited you was being annoying. It had been two months since agreeing to become Venom’s host. The first month was hell, in fact it’s the reason why you’re in your chemistry class after school. The chaos that came along with the symbiote was more than enough to help you fail your classes. The first few days with venom consisted of you destroying your bedroom, eating nasty old men, and wreaking havoc in the city.
To make things worse, not only were the NYPD on your ass- but you also had a certain annoying neighborhood nuisance on your tail. In fact just last night you were tied onto a streetlamp by Spider-man, the nuisance himself, because it’s ‘not ethical’ to eat bad guys. You hated him. Sure he was a hero trying to rid the city of evil but so were you! Poor not-so-little Venom was so excited to become vigilantes, but his dreams got crushed after being categorized as a villain by the web-slinger.
“WHEN DO WE GET TO GO HOME?” The Alien poked his small head out from your left boob.
With urgency you shoved him back into your body. “Calm down!”
Mrs. Nicholson and a few other students who were also making up some late work looked over at you, some confused others laughing at your sudden outburst.
“Everything alright (Y/n)?” The tired chemistry teacher called over.
A nervous laugh came out of your mouth, “Yeah sorry- just frustrated I guess.”
“Frustrated? Do you need help?” She asked with concern.
“N-no I’m fine.” You replied trying to look focused so she wouldn’t send over the student assistant.
“Alright well Peter should be back from the bathroom if you need help, so just ask him for help ok?” Great. Just what you needed.
See, it’s not that you hated Peter Parker, he was a pretty smart guy. He’s actually the only teacher’s assistant who isn’t a condescending smart ass that makes you feel bad about yourself for asking a question. He was helpful in these make-up labs oftentimes being of more use than the actual teacher. You never really spoke to him, you knew he had a rich hot friend and a crush on Mary Jane who you also never spoke to.
“Back.” Speak of the devil. The boy stepped into the classroom, his lab coat still on. Was that even considered sanitary?
Immediately you felt Venom take over your eyes. Your (e/c) irises covered by a silky white lens film as he observed Peter. Now used to his antics- you shut your eyes tightly until you regained control of your eyes again. Taking the vial of stirred solution in your hands you carefully poured it into the main flask, once again hoping Mrs. Nicholson wouldn’t send Peter over.
Unfortunately for you, the universe loved to see you suffer. “Peter, why don’t you go help (Y/n) over there?” She directed him to you.
You mentally groaned when you saw Peter make his way over. You were sitting in the middle of the classroom just behind two students and in front of another. There were four of you in total, yet you were the only one who seemed to struggle. Surly chemistry was rigged against you or something right?
“OOO YUM.” Venom growled as he tried to escape your body only to be pushed back in again before anyone could see him.
“Did you say something?” Peter looked confused, his glasses moving upwards as he raised an eyebrow.
“Huh? Oh no I was just saying that this solution looks yum…yummy.” The gross sludge in front of you did not look yummy, It looked like someone threw up a blue gatorade. “It’s not supposed to do that is it?”
He shook his head, his blue eyes wide as he moved to prevent it from spilling. “No- it’s not. What did you put in here?” He carefully moved you out of the way and took over your station, cleaning up the mess you had made. “We might have to start over.”
You would’ve felt bad about him having to fix your mess, but you were too caught up in the fact that you had to stay longer and redo the whole damn thing.
“GAAAHHH!” Venom’s low voice fussed as he heard this news. Once again everybody’s eyes were on you. The heat rose to your face as you tried to play it off.
“Sorry, guess I’m hungry.”
Peter and you got to work. Since you had to redo the whole process the two of you were the last ones in the classroom, the other students leaving as soon as they finished. Mrs. Nicholson had even left, claiming that “Peter knows what he’s doing, You’re in good hands.” It wasn’t usual that Teacher’s left students alone in classrooms, especially in labs. However Peter was the exception. He was Midtown high’s resident nerd/teacher’s pet. Which was why he was always getting in trouble with Flash Thompson. The only thing keeping him from daily beatings being his friend Harry.
“Alright, so now that it’s bubbling just compare the differences between this one and the one we put in cold water.” The boy said, moving his goggles to the side as he took them off.
“That’s it? I’m done after that?” You eagerly asked, eyebrows high, astonished by the fact that you were the only one who could mess up a simple ass lab.
“I mean we still gotta clean up, but yeah.” He offered a smile.
“Sweet.” You got to writing. Venom had calmed down after you took a bathroom break to buy some chocolate from a vending machine, but occasionally he would pop out from behind your neck to sniff Peter. You just hoped Peter didn’t think of you as some weirdo pervert who was trying to smell him.
The scribbles on the report were hardly legible since you just wanted to get out of there. Finishing off with signing your name, you turned the packet in to the front of the desk where Mrs. Nicholson had instructed you to before she had left.
“Alright, thank you.” You told the boy who was staring at you intently. You hadn’t noticed it before but he was acting differently after you came back from your ‘bathroom break’.
“Yeah no problem, need help cleaning up?” Regardless of your response, he was already emptying the flask and tubes that you had used,
“I mean you’re already helping me.” Chuckling in a friendly manner you grabbed some paper towels and disinfectant, spraying it on the table and wiping it away.
The two of you worked in awkward silence to clean up the lab, going as far as to clean up the messes that the other lab students forgot about. When you were done you took off your goggles and coat, hanging it back on the rack. Peter soon followed behind you, his footsteps and yours the only sound in the room.
“Alright well- bye, thank you again.” You rushed out of there, your backpack charms clinking as your legs moved down the hall.
“YAY! FREEDOM!” Venom roared, his head poking out of your stomach, You didn’t shove him back this time, mainly because no one else was around to witness the monster you called your friend.
A smile played on your face, “Fuck yeah! And we don’t ever have to stay after school anymore!”
“WAIT THAT WAS THE LAST ONE?” Venom questioned, eager to hear the response.
“Mhm!” You celebrated, still running out of the school. “Now we can do some more bad guy hunting!” Saying Venom was the only one who enjoyed the vigilante work would be a lie. After getting accustomed to the fear and relishing in the rush- you too had been looking forward to beating up the scum of the earth. Plus, a part of you secretly hoped to be tied up again by Spiderman. Though you hated him for leaving you with a hungry Venom, you had a thing for guys in masks.
Venom took over your legs, the black-purple sludge covering your jeans as he sped up the pace. “DO WE GET TO EAT NOW?”
“Maybe- I don’t know. It's still bright out.” The sun still hadn’t set. Checking your watch it read 5:30.
“I’ll buy you some fries.”
“YAY!”
The two of you were at (favorite burger place), munching on some much needed food when it happened. A gross oversized bug flew at the restaurant's window, its guts splatter all over the place.
“What the hell?” A few people got up to look at the commotion which only progressed as the sound of a crash and then car alarms went off.
“What the fuck is that?” You commented to Venom as you finished your food, gathering up the trash to throw.
“I DON’T KNOW, LET’S FIND OUT.” His feet dragged you towards the exit, quickly you grabbed your backpack, swinging it on you as the Alien took control of your steps. His feet looked like some horror movie inspired shoes.
He didn’t bother saying excuse me, his attention focused on the action outside. You murmured some apologies to the people who he bumped into. Eventually the two of you were far enough for him to take over your body, your (s/c) skin overrun with his dark goop. When you made it out of the alleyway people were quick to shriek at you. This was the first time in a while that Venom was fully out in broad daylight.
“AHHHHHHHHH! Oh my god what is that?” A lady yelled.
“Is that spiderman?!” Some guy yelled causing a cacophony of people accusing you of being spiderman.
“IDIOTS!” Venom didn’t like that.
As if on cue the actual spiderman came swinging in, stepping on your head to boost himself up.
“Hey it's you!” His annoying voice called out a greeting, lifting himself up with a web.
Venom growled at this, not appreciating the fact he was used as a step stool. “ GET BACK HERE YOU ASSHOLE!”
“Hey! Stop that! He’s already dealing with someone. Let’s take advantage of this while he’s distracted.” Trying to convince Venom to change his mind was a hard task, especially when he was throwing a temper tantrum. The two of you fought for autonomy over your body, venom winning since his hunger fueled him.
“I thought you were all for saving the bees!” Spiderman’s voice echoed through the air as he threw some webs towards Swarm, the nuisance in question.
Angered, theVillain shot some bees his way, “DIE SPIDERMAN!”
Quickly the man in the red suit dodged the swarm of bees coming his way, using his webs as some sort of butterfly net as he caught some. Infuriated by his quick thinking, the swarm makes the bees cut through the net, sending another mass of them at the spider.
“Gross I don’t want to get stung.” You pulled away before Venom got too close, landing on a roof nearby. It was close enough to see the whole ordeal yet not get hurt.
“(Y/N) COME ON! HE’S RIGHT THERE! IF WE GET RID OF HIM WE CAN HAVE ALL THE BRAINS IN THE WORLD!” The alien shouted though no amount of pleading would convince you to kill Spider man.
‘’Yes, but if we kill him, who's gonna deal with these wackos?”
“WE WILL DUH! STOP BEING SUCH A PUS-” A web came shooting at you heavy enough to drop you to the floor.
“What the hell? Already?!“WE WEREN’T EVEN DOING ANYTHING!”
“I TOLD YOU WE SHOULD’VE STRUCK!” He scolded you.
“Sorry buddy, I’m gonna have to take a raincheck on you! Kinda busy at the moment, you can try me again on Tuesday.” Spiderman walked onto the roof where you lay, shooting out a few more webs onto you. He finished his snarky little sentence just as he went to attack Swarm again.
Letting out an animalistic growl, Venom burst through the webs- this time he was actually angry, and you tended to not have the best control over him when in a state like this. His claws gripped onto the buildings as he climbed upwards, making his way to the spider and Swarm. The villain looked horrified as he saw the two of you approaching him. Swarm let out a yell as Venom brought him to the ground, his fist endlessly punching away as the swarm slowly disappeared, the bees scurrying off to recover.
“Gee thanks for the help buddy!” Spiderman landed behind you, his fists on his slutty little waist. “Glad I can count on ya!” He began to walk away.
Venom leaped out, grabbing him in his hands. “Hey what the-!” Spiderman struggled as he tried to shimmy his way out of your grasps.
“FINALLY!” Venom’s voice shook Spiderman’s core.
“No~ NO! Venom no! I thought I told you that we weren’t going to kill him!” You fought with the symbiote, loosening your grip to allow the hero some room to escape.
“SHUT UP (Y/N) I GOT THIS!” He spoke as he tightened his grip once again.
If it weren’t for the mask you would've seen the confused expression on Peter’s face when he heard this giant monster thing say your name. Could it be? He thought, Could it be the girl from his school?
“No it can’t be.” Spiderman shook his head.
Venom lifted him up to his eye level, beginning to pluck off the mask from the hero. “Hey! Stop that! It’s not nice to take someone’s mask off without their permission!” He huffed trying to joke, though you could tell he was scared. A crowd was formed below the buildings, the sound of news helicopters surrounded you and you were sure they were broadcasting this live.
“Venom- we gotta go.” You told your friend as you frantically moved your head to look at the helicopters that had now grown in number. “Come on let him go- we gotta leave before they start-”
It was too late. A helicopter filled with what looked to be either a military or swat team had started shooting at you. The bullets hitting your body, cushioned by Venom’s goop before being released to the floor. Peter watched with wide eyes as the bullers fell to the ground, having not affected the beast at all. He however was shitting his pants- if he got shot he was done for.
Shocked by the sudden fire and scared out of your mind, fear took over, causing your flight to kick in. You’d let go of Peter, and used your legs to leap off the building. Venom didn’t seem to be happy about it, but he also knew that if you got hurt he’d die as well.
“Why don’t you ever listen to me?!” You shouted, feeling yourself begin to cry.
“WE COULD’VE HAD HIM!” Venom shouted, retracting into your body once you were in a safe alley way away from anyone.
“I could have died!” You shouted.
“NUH UH! I WAS PROTECTING YOU!” He argued.
“Not really! If you were protecting me we would’ve been out of that situation as soon as they started firing!” You were breathing heavily. You took your flannel off to examine your arms, reaching down to lift your pant legs to check on your leg.
“THE BULLETS DIDN’T REACH YOU (Y/N), LIKE I SAID I WAS PROTECTING YOU.” He said again.
It was your first brush with death and you didn’t feel good.
As you were pacing around trying to get over the hysteria- two red boots plopped onto the floor. You froze, turning around, The figure was leaning over a trash bin, chest heaving notably as he tried to catch his breath. It was spiderman. You wondered if he had noticed you standing at the other end of the alley. Venom was still protruding out of you, his head in full display as the two of you looked at each other and then the hero.
You raised a finger to your lips, signaling for venom to keep his mouth shut. Waving him into your body, you signaled for him to hide himself. The attempt however failed when a certain masked hero turned your way after a can had fallen from where you stood. Quickly Venom disappeared into you, but the hero had already seen it, leaving the two of you in an intense staring contest.
“(Y/n)?” The hero asked, a familiar voice taking the place of the hero’s usual deep voice.
How did spiderman know your name? WAIT- THE SPIDER MAN KNEW YOUR NAME!
You stayed there frozen, hoping that if you just stayed frozen he’d eventually go away. The puzzle pieces seemed to connect when you noticed a familiar green backpack peeking from the top of the recycling bin.
It couldn’t be.
There was just no possible way.
Out of everyone that could be spiderman it couldn’t be him.
He was a nerd- a nobody- just some guy from school who happened to be a genius.
He must’ve noticed his slip up because he quickly shot a web over the backpack, slowly approaching you.
“NO. FUCKING. WAY.” Came out of your mouth as you stepped back, overwhelmed by the discovery. Venom kept himself in you, salty that you yelled at him, although when he noticed the spider he began to take over your body, stopping when he felt your hand on his arm.
“You’re venom?!” He asked, shocked, still in the mask. He had forgotten that spiderman wasn’t supposed to know who you were. Afterall how would a hero recognize some highschool senior?
“Peter?” You asked, it had to be him, oh my god it had to! It all made sense now.
He would always slip out of class, but most people including you thought he had some bowel problems. Whenever he would come back he’d be all sweaty and roughed up. He always defended Spiderman whenever Flash would shit talk the hero, and you remembered him lying about knowing him to Mary Jane- although now that you knew it was Peter - he technically wasn't lying. It also explained why he was so good in the gym.
Your head was spinning with questions. After all, you had just worked with the kid not even two hours ago in the chemistry lab at school!
“N-no.” Came his lame reply. He forced a deep voice, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Venom.” You called out and immediately the alien covered your body.
Peter suddenly remembered that you wanted to kill him for some reason. He then leapt on his feet, almost getting away. Venom reached out for him, capturing him by the collar of his suit. The alien then brought him close to him and growled, licking the spider’s masked face.
“EW! NO STOP we are not licking our classmates' faces!” You scolded as your face protruded where Venom’s face once was.
“What- I.. I am so confused right now.” He said defeated.
Your arm went to lift his mask, his webs shooting out to stop you, “No- no- you really don’t have to do thaaaaat.” His fake voice nervously protested, but you ended up taking it off anyways. You gasped, both out of excitement and shock since you were right!
He looked at you with those wide eyes of his. You never knew how pretty they were until now that you were up close and personal with him. He looked scared, almost shocked that you actually went through with it.
“Peter?! You’re spiderman?” You yelled in surprise, only to get a web to the mouth.
“Hey look- I don’t know what I did or why you’re trying to kill me but please..” He began and you realized you were still in Venom’s body.
“Oh- sorry… right.” Venom collapsed back into you, dropping Peter as you shrank back to size. “Sorry!” You called out as you reached to pick him up.
“(Y/n) what- what is that thing?” He questioned, trying to catch his breath.
“Oh that-” “WE ARE VENOM.” His voice echoed from inside of you. “Right, we are venom.” That was the only answer you would give him.
It made sense to him now why you were always causing a scene in class, why you would always be on the phone during school, or why you always had that constipated look in your eyes when your ‘stomach’ would growl during study hall. Now that he was thinking of it, that monster thing must have been what was triggering his spidey senses back at the chem lab.
He then got back to business, the weight of your knowledge on his shoulders. “(Y/n)..” He held your shoulders, his face close to yours. Something about Peter Parker in a tight suit and messy hair, looking as if he just had a brush with death seemed to appeal to you. He looked nothing like the dorky science wiz from school, yet he still sort of did and you just weren’t realizing it.
“You can’t tell anybody about this.” He pleaded, the sincerity in his eyes too much for you. “I- I can’t let anyone find out that I’m spiderman you got that?”
“Are you going to kill me? Because I’m pretty sure venom won’t..” He stopped you, shaking his head, “No no - I’m not gonna kill you, I don't do that. You just can’t tell anybody please. Please (y/n) I beg you..” His eyes were watery. “I’ll do anything, anything just don’t -”
“Peter! Calm down.” You placed your own hands on his shoulders, your stomach twisting as you felt how toned he was. “I won’t. I swear. But in return you can’t tell anybody about my secret, ok?’ You looked him in the eyes, the both of you having some sort of relief once he nodded.
“Yeah - yeah of course.” Peter said, dropping his hands from you much to his dismay.
“One more question-” Peter began.
“Yeah?”
“So like why are you eating people’s brains?”
#fanfic#xreader#reader insert#marvel#spider man#peter parker#the amazing spider man#spiderman x reader#peter parker x reader#mary jane watson#harry osborn#venom symbiote#venom x reader#venom spiderman#marvel spiderman#marvel venom
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Little Do You Know - F. Andersen
It’s finally done! This fic was written for the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston and is for @mp0625. It was a nice challenge to write a reader insert for the first time, I had a lot of fun creating this story and I hope you enjoy readiit just as much!
Also, everyone be warned, I didn’t look at a single calendar or any actual game scores. I just did what felt right and hoped for the best. Also, don’t think too closely about the reader’s job. I have no idea how it actually works, I just put a lot of imagination and confidence into writing it. There also is a guest appearance of Seth Jarvis.
Summary: Suddenly working for the Carolina Hurricanes wasn't how you'd thought your year would end. Everything that followed was just as surprising.
Pairing: Frederik Andersen x f!reader (no mentions of y/n)
Words: 11.9k (I’m sorry, this was planned to be like 3k words at most?? I have no idea what happend)
Warnings: a few swear words? Reader is described as shorter than Freddy, otherwise no physical descriptions. It might sound just a little angsty at the beginning, but it's really not; mostly fluff and maybe some light hurt/comfort
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Jane's grin should have been enough to make you suspicious.
It was one evening, after another long shift at work and overtime that you would probably never see the pay for.
Even without looking at her, you knew the look Jane would give you. One of those pitying ones that made you a little more defensive than you should’ve been - a constant reminder that perhaps the year hadn't exactly been perfect.
But that didn't automatically mean Jane was right. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, you had once tried to tell her once. You were happy. No, really.
Sure, the breakup at the beginning of the year had been long and accompanied by a lot of shouting and tears. At the beginning you had been so sure that he was the one - only to be disappointed once again a few months later. But you could always use that as a learning experience, couldn’t you? Jane didn't know what she was talking about when she’d said that you seemed lonely sometimes. Better alone than with the wrong person, right?
And sure, the water damage to the apartment wasn't ideal either. But at least the only thing that couldn’t be saved was the kitchen. Everything else just needed time to dry and, well, maybe a new coat of paint. Two weeks later you had managed to find a new place to move into with your best friend, Jane.
Maybe she wasn’t entirely wrong about your job being more than miserable. Seemingly endless overtime and the salary just enough to make ends meet.
Maybe Jane had a point, even though you hated to admit it.
You weren't unhappy per se. But maybe, just maybe, there was still room for improvement.
And now it was December.
Jane had gotten a telltale glint in her eyes when you both realized that. Less than four weeks left to end the year on a good note. Or maybe you should just wait for the next one and hope it’ll get better. So, with a shrug of your shoulders, you'd put the thought aside for the moment.
Her grin should’ve made you suspicious. But instead, it was already forgotten by the next morning.
–
"Jane!" Your voice was far too loud considering she was sitting barely a meter away.
"Hm?" Jane looked up from her book, confused, maybe a little worried. You weren’t paying enough attention right not to get a good read on her expression.
You couldn't believe your eyes. Even after reading the text for the third time, you wanted to pinch yourself. Hard. This had to be a strange dream.
The words blinking up at you from the screen seemed unbelievable.
"Did you- Did you submit my application with- to the- the Carolina Hurricanes?!"
Jane seemed to process your words in her head. Then understanding began to spread across her face.
Your mouth kept opening and closing, but no words came out. You didn't even know what you would have, should’ve, said. What was a normal response in this situation?
Jane straightened up a little and leaned toward you. She was looking over your shoulder at the laptop.
"Oh, they were faster than I expected."
"How... What..."
Sure, you'd complained to her just the other day that the youth team you'd applied to had suddenly realized they didn't have the budget for a full-time position after all. The interview at the equipment store on the other side of town left a lot to be desired after their first question was how much overtime you could put in per month.
But this? You’d never have expected that.
"Are you crazy?" Your voice was still unexpectedly shrill.
“It’s not a rejection letter”, she sounded a little too proud for your liking.
You squinted your eyes at her.
“Then I would’ve killed you. After burying myself out of embarrassment.”
"Oh, come on. You have to admit, it sounds perfect for you," Jane simply shrugged her shoulders. Leaning back again, she looked a lot calmer than you felt.
Nevertheless, you did have to admit that it sounded almost perfect. Often you had helped out with the equipment in small teams in the past and had always enjoyed the work. It was close to the action without being in the foreground.
But still.
"I can't believe you." You slumped back against the couch and ran your fingers through your hair. "This is crazy. You’re crazy..."
Jane sighed. "Hey, if you're not interested, don't answer." Then she turned back to her book.
She made it sound so easy.
"I didn't say that!" you defended yourself immediately.
Jane snorted, then at least a brief twitch of the corner of her mouth.
–
Your hands were shaking as you pushed open the nondescript door. It had all happened so fast.
Someone had called you the very next morning.
It was all so unbelievable that you could barely remember the phone call.
"It's a temporary position, but it needs to be filled quickly," the man on the phone had said, that much you could recall - immediately followed by the question of when you could start.
Apparently, someone had gotten sick after they were already understaffed and so they urgently needed someone to fill in.
Your experience at the small hockey center in your hometown had probably paid off after all. While growing up you had helped the coach, who trained the children’s hobby group, with the equipment.
In return, he always gave you old skates and sticks that were once forgotten by someone and never got picked up so you could try them out during your own team’s training.
Maybe they also decided on you because they just didn’t have many applicants with previous experience of any level available at such short notice. But who knew. And really, you didn’t really care either way.
Especially as just a few hours after the call you were now following hurriedly written down directions through the corridors of the arena that you had previously only seen as a visitor.
Anthony, whose first words had been "Call me Tony", had been awaiting you already. His tour of the most important rooms was not only packed with way too much information but also constantly interrupted by other people’s questions and demands.
Nevertheless, Tony remained friendly and patient with them as well as you, even when you had forgotten which direction you had come from for the third time in a row. Once or twice, he might even have stifled an amused grin.
"Let me just show you the storage rooms and then..."
"Anthony," an older man interrupted from the side. He had his arms crossed over his chest and a grim expression on his face.
An official-looking ID was hanging around his neck.
Tony grimaced at the use of his full name.
"What is it now?" he asked, barely able to hide his annoyed voice under a wavering polite smile. It was the first time you'd seen Tony anything other than friendly today. It was almost weird.
The man didn't really look at Tony, but rather past him, even though the words were clearly directed at Tony. "The sticks are all mixed up." The accusatory tone in his voice was clear, as if Tony had personally caused the mess.
"We don't know what belongs to whom."
Tony sighed. "Of course, you don't", he muttered so quietly that only you could hear the words. However, the other man would have been able to see the hint of an eye roll hadn’t he turned away again, apparently to grumble at the next person.
"Don't let Mike intimidate you," Tony explained, turning back to you, "in case he ever snaps at you. He likes to feel more important than he is." He rolled his eyes with a wry grin.
Someone hesitantly tapped Tony’s shoulder. This time a young man, who looked like he'd just graduated high school.
"Sorry, I know you're busy - I don't mean to interrupt - but, uh, a strap on a goalie pad broke."
Anthony ran a hand over his forehead. "Another one? Shit." He exhaled noisily. "That's the third one in two days. It has to be a production error. Has the manufacturer responded to the complaint yet?"
The boy's eyes widened, and he shrugged his shoulders helplessly.
Mike called impatiently for Anthony from the next room. Torn, he turned briefly at the voice, then looked back at the boy next to him. "They probably need the goalies for training right now?"
The boy nodded shyly: "They said it was urgent."
Anthony sighed again.
Then he looked at you with a wry grin: "Looks like you'll get something to do sooner than expected."
He got handed a paper from someone walking past him. While searching for something on it he continued talking.
"We only have a few pads left in stock. The new order hasn't arrived yet and we need the ones we still have for the game tonight. Do you know how to sew?" He looked up.
"A little?" Your grandparents had taught you a long time ago, but it wasn't something you had to do regularly in your daily life.
"Great, that should be enough for now. It doesn't have to be pretty, as long as it does the job."
Anthony patted you on the back approvingly. Then he left you standing alone in the hallway, his exit accompanied by another long "Anthony" yell.
You were left standing there. Uncertainly you looked at the young man next to you.
He shrugged his shoulders just as unsure. He murmured quietly: "In that room over there." With a finger, he pointed at a door.
Well, then you should probably get to work. 'That room over there' really wasn't hard to find. It was only a few meters away.
What you didn't expect, however, was to almost walk into a huge man as soon as you entered the room. You always knew that hockey players tended to be quite tall, but it still took you by surprise.
You had to tilt your head back to look the man in the face. Of course, having lived here long enough you knew all the players on the team, at least by name. You weren't some crazy fan but at least invested enough to watch the games whenever you had the time. For your last birthday you had even gotten tickets to watch one live in the arena. It had been great.
Now you were faced with a certain goalie. Stubborn ginger strands fell into his face, his cheeks slightly flushed from training or the cold. Television did not do him justice at all.
Stay professional, you had to order yourself. This was your job. You couldn't mess it up, especially not on the first day.
Frederik looked up. He ran his eyes over your form for a moment. Then he tilted his head. "You're not Tony," his voice sounded unexpectedly soft.
"Oh, uh, no. I'm new here. First day today." Wow, very smooth. Good job.
If Freddie thought the same, he didn't let on. Quite the opposite. He openly watched you, his mouth twisted into a crooked grin. "Well, in that case. Welcome."
You mumbled a "Thank you."
A brief silence filled the room. While you reminded yourself to get yourself under control, you could still feel his appraising gaze on you - not hostile, just curious.
"How do you like it so far?" You could see little lines forming around his eyes as he smiled at you.
"I mean, a map would be helpful. All these corridors are like a labyrinth," you tried to joke.
Freddie laughed. "Oh yeah. You don't want to know how many times I got lost in here at first."
Maybe he was just saying that to make you feel better. However, you decide not to question it and just let the words calm you down a little.
"Are you almost done?" a woman poked her head into the room. Her stern features were emphasized by her narrow glasses. She reminded you of a strict principal scowling at running students.
You were almost certain you'd seen her in the corridors earlier today. Maybe Tony had told you her name and position, but if so, you'd already forgotten again. For the first dozen names you had made an honest effort to memorize them. The numerous ones following after that were buried in the sea of information that had poured in on you in a very short space of time.
"Oh yes, almost done," you grinned at the woman as convincingly as possible.
With a skeptical look, she let her eyes wander back and forth between Freddie, you and finally the pad, still hanging down loosely on his leg.
"Hurry up”, she ordered. You nodded dutifully.
When she had disappeared again, you breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes had literally bored right through you and left you feeling a little uncomfortable. Freddie had squirmed under her eyes just as much.
You didn’t want to risk her turning up here again.
"I think I'll go and get some stuff. To fix that."
Freddie nodded patiently.
Huh.
Well. There was just one problem.
"You wouldn't happen to know where they store needles around here, would you?"
Again, the corners of his mouth pulled to the side in amusement. "Aren't you the one working here?" He was obviously just teasing you, but your cheeks immediately felt a little warmer, nevertheless.
"Right."
In the end, Freddie did help by searching through the drawers in the small cupboard behind him while you examined the rest of the room.
Once needle and thread were found, the work was done quickly. The strap was tight again. It should hold on for the next few hours at least. The stern-looking woman had walked past the room a few more times – more than necessary in your opinion – as you had noticed out of the corner of your eye. However, she had not re-entered the room.
Freddie and you had had some simple conversations on the side so the work had gone by quickly. He had asked your name and where you came from.
All in all, your first job could have gone a lot worse. You were almost a little proud of yourself.
Maybe this was all quite doable after all.
-
It was terrible.
You couldn't remember the last time you'd walked so much, feeling your feet ache with every more step you took. By the time just half of your shift had been over, your legs were already heavy.
Once the game had started, the processes seemed a lot more structured.
The rather hectic running around of the afternoon was replaced by a lot of counting and carrying things from one place to another.
With all the work, you almost missed the end of the game completely.
However, the disappointment was hard to miss. It put deep creases in everyone’s faces; reflected in the way shoulders slumped and voices were muffled.
Losing again after a long winning streak probably always hit everyone hard.
Tony and you got handed the equipment to be washed and dried.
At least one thing hadn't changed though. All sorts of people still wanted something from Tony. He had mumbled to you "I'll be back in a moment", only to definitely not come back after a moment.
Afraid of getting lost for good, you decided to wait here for him anyway.
Everyone around you seemed to have clear tasks that they were silently following. It was almost strange to see the corridors so quiet, in contrast to a few hours earlier.
No matter where you stood, you had the feeling that you were interfering with the routines of other workers and so you gradually ended up further and further to the end of the narrow hallway. Not knowing exactly where you were was nothing new today. However, this time you were pretty sure this corner hadn’t been in Tony’s tour.
One by one, players came around a corner. They walked past you individually or in small groups. Very few of them probably really noticed you. Their mood was also noticeably subdued.
You weren't entirely sure whether you were happy to see Freddie again as he slowly stepped around the corner, or whether you would’ve preferred not to see the disappointed look on his face.
You gave him what you hoped was an encouraging smile.
For a brief moment, the corners of his mouth lifted, a hint of a crooked grin as he had almost passed you, but as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished again.
He exhaled forcefully. The heaviness in his eyes returned.
With a long breath, you watched his slowly shrinking figure.
No longer could you stand being in the hallway. You had seen enough disappointed faces for one day. A door caught your eye. It was held open by a chair jammed into the doorway. The cool light falling through the opening was brighter than the ceiling lights.
You dared to take one last look over your shoulder, Freddie had already disappeared from your view. And there was still no sign of Tony. So, you crossed the corridor with slow steps.
The door led directly to the spectator stands. It had apparently been opened after everyone had left the arena.
You let yourself fall against the door frame.
After a quick glance over the seating area, your gaze fell onto the ice surface. Your heart ached in your chest. Before, you hadn't realized how much you missed being on the ice yourself - or you had successfully pushed it to the back of your mind. Only now, when you were so close to it, did the longing come back to you in full force.
"Do you have skates?" The voice so close to your ear made you jump. Lost deep in thought you hadn’t noticed when Tony had appeared next to you.
"What?"
"Do you have skates," he repeated more slowly, "I have to be honest. I'd be a bit disappointed if I had to find out like this that you don't own any." He flashed an amused grin at you.
You frowned. "Yes, of course. I mean, I have relatives in Canada. They'd probably disown me if I didn't."
"Then what's stopping you from taking a few laps on the ice?"
He shrugged as if it were that simple. It couldn't be that simple.
"What? But no, I can't do that..." You found it difficult to find the right words. You didn't even know what you were trying to say yourself.
"The way you look at the ice longingly, it'll melt away otherwise," Tony teased.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "No, but really. Is that allowed?"
"Yep," Tony pointed over his shoulder. "Back there on the list are the times when the ice is free. As long as you don't mind the ice not being fresh, of course."
You could hardly believe what Tony was telling you. There was actually a possibility that you could skate on the ice? It’d been so long since you had skates on your feet. It’s been even longer since you’d last held a hockey stick.
When you thought about what it would be like to practice again after so long, a yearning overcame you.
"Nobody else usually uses it on Mondays and Wednesdays." Tony gave you a significant look.
-
The ice had obviously been heavily used. It couldn't have bothered you less.
The first step on the ice was shakier than you expected. And it still felt so relieving. Like rediscovering one of your favorite childhood sweets years later. Or finding change in your pockets that you’d already forgotten about.
Your face beamed with joy, becoming more relaxed with every step. After two laps around the arena, it felt as familiar as before. Your chest rose and fell at a fast pace.
Even after another ten minutes, you were still alone on the ice. When Tony had said no one else usually used the free ice time on Mondays, he hadn't been exaggerating.
You were still a little unsure before, but now you took the stick you had brought with you and a few pucks that were still in a bucket on the side from the last training session.
The last time you’d played hockey was even longer ago than the last time you’d skated. So, it wasn't surprising that you missed the net a lot the first few tries. The times you did hit the goal, however, felt all the better.
The skillful shots from your youth, when you still had time to go to training regularly, no longer worked nearly as well. In the past, you could’ve done them blindfolded.
Adult responsibilities however got in the way at some point, so you were glad that you were still able to attend a hobby group at least once a month until last year. And it paid off. After a short time, the stick no longer felt so strange in your hand. Maybe Hockey was a bit like riding a bike. You would never quite forget how to do it.
You almost missed the other person coming onto the ice.
Even without his number on his back, you could’ve identified him without a doubt. To be fair, there probably weren't that many people walking around in professional goalie gear. Especially those with access to the ice and a Canes logo on their chest.
Without a doubt: Frederik Andersen had just stepped onto the ice. The exact ice you were standing on.
Uncertain you looked back and forth between the exit and him. You were sure you hadn't misread the time on the list. The clock on the wall also told you that you hadn't just been here much longer than you thought.
Still, should you leave the ice? If he was here, he probably wanted to practice. You'd just get in the way.
After the game on your first day on the job, the Canes lost two more games. And as always happens, critical voices immediately got loud on the internet. Even if you hadn't looked any further, you could imagine what they said about Freddie – hopefully, he followed the media team's advice not to read any of it.
Freddie looked at you for a moment. Then he crossed the ice. However, instead of heading for the other half of the ice as you’d have expected, his path led straight into the net on your side.
Fascinated, you watched as he stretched and moved in quick order. Finally, he straightened up again, leaned forward and tapped the ice several times with his stick.
You looked at him in confusion. But when he then flicked a puck across the rink towards you with his stick, it was a more than clear invitation.
In this moment you were so glad to have had some time to warm up before he arrived.
Your first shots at the net were careful. And apparently, they were way too predictable and easy for Freddie, as he blocked each of them with ease. He didn't even look strained in the slightest.
You took it as a challenge.
The next shots were more confident. You even started to skate a few steps towards the net on each of them, instead of standing rigidly in the middle of the ice.
However, after a lost puck on the way to the net elicited a playfully disappointed shake of the head from Freddie, you made it your mission to mix in a particularly bad shot every few tries. Freddie’s reaction made it more than worth it.
If you looked very closely, you imagined you could even see the smirk under his mask every time.
In the end, you didn't know how long you’d played for.
When Freddie pushed his mask up, a few strands of hair were sticking to his forehead. His features were more relaxed than any of the last times you'd seen him here. It looked good on him.
As you went your separate ways again, he gently nudged you with his shoulder. The smile lingered on your lips for a long time.
–
"Do you think the small suitcase will be enough for three days?"
Jane looked at you over her shoulder. "Are you going on a trip? Without me?" She clutched her chest dramatically.
"There are a few away games coming up. And I'm supposed to come with them”, you explained. Your nerves must be written all over your face.
"Not that I think I'm really going to be that much help.", you added.
You had only just started to feel like you were slowly getting used to the work in the arena. By now, you could count on one hand how many times you got lost in the seemingly never-ending hallways of the arena in a shift. Even all the tasks no longer appeared as overwhelming as they did at the beginning.
Still, it had taken you days to even come close to finding your way around the arena. Even now, you kept discovering new rooms that you had never seen before.
Now, arriving in a completely foreign arena? You'd never seen how away games were run behind the scenes. And now you were supposed to help out yourself. Over the last days carefully established routines to make work easier would have to be broken again.
"Oh yeah, I totally forgot that you're super important now," she teased.
As if. "Hardly. More like the assistant to the assistant."
As you turned back to your bedroom, Jane called after you: "I’m sure it won't be as bad as you think."
Packing took longer than expected. This was probably partly due to the fact that you kept placing stuff in your suitcase just to take it out again minutes later. Should you pack a fifth sweater after all? Would one spare pair of pants be enough or maybe take the black ones with you as well?
By the time you had loaded your bags into your car, you were on the verge of being late. Enough time for you to arrive on time, not enough to get stuck in traffic or spend ages looking for a parking space.
However, you didn’t even get that far.
Your car made a tired stuttering noise before it fell silent again. The same sound was heard on the second attempt. By the third turn of the key, your fingers were already getting clammy.
"Damn it. That can't be true now." Try again. This time the engine only made a muffled scraping sound. "No, no, no!"
You dropped your head against the steering wheel. Frustration rose up inside you.
Another sharp turn. Your hand clutched the armrest. You preferred not to look too closely at the speed limit. Jane ignored your pointed glances toward her anyway - and today, at least, you were almost glad of her habit of speeding.
The bags on the back seat were a heavy reminder in the corner of your eye.
You almost felt like you were back in your teenage years, being driven around by your parents and older friends. Then the airport finally came into view.
Jane parked and let you out. A car honked behind you. Quickly you thanked her and got out of the car.
You didn't know how, but you were still on time.
–
After the flight, it was a blessing to arrive at the hotel room.
The room was small, had a strange orange wall color and a dubious stain on the floor that you strictly avoided stepping on. But at least you had the room to yourself. Reason enough to breathe a sigh of relief.
In the evening, you fell into bed early, exhausted from the day. Sending a photo of your room to Jane would have to wait until tomorrow.
The next morning, you were awake long before your alarm clock. You didn't know who exactly was in the room next to you, but whoever it was had started snoring loudly at some point.
Even after a while, you couldn't fall back asleep. You were slow to pull yourself out of the warmth of your bed, but happy to escape the constant noise. So, you got ready for the day.
When you arrived in the breakfast room with a sectioned-off area for the team and players, the buffet had only just been opened. Apart from you, there was only one other person here so far, who ignored you as politely as you ignored them.
Most people would probably eat later. The game wasn't until late afternoon, so there was no rush to prepare, and morning skate wasn't scheduled for a few hours, as you’d heard.
With a full plate, you sat down at one of the many empty tables. While you ate, you checked your messages.
Jane had texted you last night to tell you that she’d taken your car to the mechanic. Already, they had sent you an email with a list of what needed to be repaired. Your hope that it would only be just a minor repair instantly vanished as you saw the length of the list.
You gulped a second time at the amount at the bottom of the mail.
Shit. That would easily consume an entire month's salary. You dropped your forehead to your hands.
"Does breakfast in general make you unhappy or is it this one in particular?" The chair next to you was pulled back. A certain ginger goalie fell into the seat.
You couldn't suppress a faint snort.
"I wouldn't count my car as breakfast," you tried to joke. Just the thought of your car made you grimace again.
"Oh," his brow furrowed gently. "That doesn't sound good?"
"Yeah. I mean, it has made a weird noise for a while now, should’ve known something like this would happen eventually. I just hoped to have a little more time before having to get it repaired."
Groaning you let your head fall into your hands again. Freddie shook his head, an amused glint in his eyes.
Then he seemed to have another thought.
“Wait, so how did you get to the airport?”
“Oh, I had someone drive me.” You turned your head to look at him.
“Boyfriend?" Maybe it was just hopeful wishing, the way Freddie's eyebrows drew down a touch further. “I mean, not that it’s any of my business.”
"My roommate, Jane." After short consideration, you also added: “Don’t think my ex would’ve even bothered to drive me.” You couldn't see Freddie’s face at that moment as your eyes were drawn to a new incoming message. Just Jane complaining about the weather.
“That sounds like there’s a story.”
You snorted. “Not a good one.”
Freddie seemed to get the drift. He did however furrow his brows slightly and asked slowly: "Wait, how are you getting home then?"
You could almost have sworn that Freddie was sitting closer than at the beginning.
To be honest, you hadn't really thought about it yourself. "Probably an Uber or...?" you mumbled but didn't finish the thought.
Someone from the marketing team - Angela? Angelica? Angeline? - sat down on a chair opposite you.
The conversation was paused for now. Instead, the blonde woman chattered away happily as you just nodded at the appropriate times.
You hadn't noticed when the room had started to become so crowded.
–
When they’d said: "I have an exciting task for you today", you hadn't thought that cleaning helmets would be a big part of it.
Being allowed to take on more tasks on your own was wonderful. And you were grateful.
There were various parts on a few of the helmets that needed to be replaced or checked. By itself a nice and relaxing work. However, having to polish helmets had always been very low on your list of favorite activities. And today you had to clean every single one after the repairs.
One by one, some players arrived to collect their helmets for training themselves. Others were picked up and taken away by staff on their way past. By the time the last helmet was shiningly clean, there were only three left on the table next to you, waiting to be picked up.
And, well, one of them was a beautifully painted goalie mask of a very specific goalie.
Another player came to collect his helmet. You immediately suppressed the disappointment that welled up in your stomach when you realized who was coming through the door. Or rather, the disappointment at who it wasn't.
He was friendly, exchanged a few brief words with you and finally thanked you before disappearing again.
And then, Freddie came into the room. You almost missed it over your struggle of trying to get a new rag from the top shelf.
“Let me help you”, the deep voice from behind surprised you.
He probably could’ve stepped around you and still reached the pile of rags easily enough. However, Freddie appeared behind you, not quite touching you, but close enough that you could feel the heat coming from his body.
Even after grabbing the desired item, he didn’t step back a whole lot, stayed close. If you would’ve wanted to you could’ve taken a step to the side. There was more than enough space and even if there wasn’t you knew Freddie would’ve moved immediately and apologized if you’d asked. But you didn’t.
You stayed exactly where you were.
The air between you felt almost charged. You wanted to see what Freddie’d do. You didn’t get the chance to.
The moment was over as quickly as it had come when the door was pushed open. You both jumped.
Until now you’d only seen Seth Jarvis occasionally from a distance in the hallways. Apart from that, you haven't had much to do with him yet.
The first thing you noticed about him today was that he was already holding his helmet in his hands. It was hanging over two fingers as if he had forgotten he even had it. You dimly remembered giving it to one of the employees not long ago.
You looked down at him once with furrowed brows. The rest of his equipment looked complete too and in working order.
Freddie huffed.
Seth's gaze flitted back and forth between him and you. A far too pleased grin began to grow on his face.
For a few seconds, his gaze stayed wandering between you two.
Finally, you broke the silence when it didn’t seem as if he intended to say anything.
"Is there… A problem with your helmet?"
Seth blinked at you. Then he followed your gaze down to his hands.
He shook his head, almost confused by your question. "No, everything's fine."
Okay? Then he probably hadn’t returned for that.
"Then... Anything else I can help you with?" you continued to ask.
He looked down at himself once more and seemed to think for a moment. Freddie started to speak, a meaningful glint in his eyes: "I'm sure it isn't-"
Somehow that just made Seth’s mischievous grin reappear.
He interrupted Freddie: "Hm, I don't know," he thought slowly, "My shin pad has been kind of weird these last few days and…"
Freddie scowled at him. But Seth didn't let it bother him at all. On the contrary, his grin widened a little more.
Amusement flashed in his eyes. There seemed to be some kind of silent communication between the two.
Finally, Seth concluded: "But it's not really that bad.”
So, you were back to square one.
"Then, anything else I can help you with?"
Seth’s answer came too quickly: "I guess I forgot why I came here. Can’t have been that important."
Turning around, however, took him longer than it should have, and you were pretty sure he did it on purpose. At the door, he threw another grinning look back.
Finally, you two were alone again.
You continued blinking at the door. What was that?
"I should probably see what he's up to," Freddie sighed but offered no other explanation. Nevertheless, he made no effort to leave.
Instead, almost absentmindedly he traced an invisible line in the table.
It took you a moment to notice - he lingered.
You didn't know what to do with the realization. Staring at Freddie the whole time only made you feel stranger. Whatever this conversation just was already left you almost dazed, so you picked up the last remaining helmet beside Freddie’s mask again.
You already knew it was spotless. Not for nothing had you spent so much time cleaning it earlier.
Just to have something to do, you picked up another cloth and set to work again.
Freddie watched you silently. There was something comfortable, almost familiar about sharing the silence.
When the last helmet was finally picked up by another employee, it was the signal for Freddie to leave.
You handed him his mask as well. Your fingers touched too long to be just a coincidence. It made your heart beat loudly in your chest.
For a moment you hesitated. Then you raised an arm briefly to his shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze. "Good luck!"
Before you had a chance to regret your decision, you went back to your work.
–
The high spirits of some of the players you spotted hours later in the hallways told you how the game had turned out, even though you’d been too busy to watch.
You didn't think Freddie would send you more than a quick smile as he walked down the corridor. Two others caught up with him. One of them, easily recognized as Seth Jarvis, and one of the rookies. Seth said something to Freddie, then pushed him to the side straight at you, laughing with one hand behind his back.
With a slight color in his cheeks, no doubt still from the game, he took a few steps towards you. Smiling, he raised an arm. He waited a moment, as if offering you a way out. Instead, you gladly took a small step in his direction.
His arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were pressed firmly against Freddie, who murmured a quiet thank you against your hair. Then, he let go of you all too quickly.
What exactly he was thanking you for you didn’t know. You also didn’t get the chance to ask.
As they passed you, the other two players behind Freddie greeted you cheerfully. You didn't even know other players knew your name. Seth looked almost as amused as earlier today.
–
By the last day of the road trip, you could no longer stand being in your room. Something about the specific shade of the wall color made your skin itch if you looked at it for too long.
It was unexpected how much you missed home. Even after just those few days in hotel rooms.
Maybe it was having to live out of a suitcase because it wasn't worth putting your things in the closet when you might be traveling to the next city that same night or the next morning. Or maybe it was the way you were constantly surrounded by the general working atmosphere.
You couldn't put your finger on it. What you could say, however, was that you couldn't wait to get home.
Just one last game.
After dinner, you couldn't bring yourself to go back to your room. Instead, you explored the common room reserved for the team and staff.
Through the window, you could see some players playing with a ball in the backyard below. At a table in the corner, various people were playing a card game you had never heard of.
In a quiet area, you settled down with a book.
Everything was ideal for reading. It was quiet enough; the sofa was comfortable and you were wearing one of your coziest sweaters.
Still, you couldn’t concentrate on your book. Your thoughts wouldn’t calm down, leaving you feeling restless. Every few minutes you shifted in your seat.
You would have liked to fast-forward the day so that it would finally be evening, and you could go home. If it was up to you, you would have already been on a plane.
Every time someone walked past or entered the room, you unconsciously raised your eyes. And every time, you were annoyed that you had lost the line in your book again. Not that you could remember much of the story anyway. Your attention wasn't quite there.
However, it also meant you noticed when Freddie entered the room.
He stopped several times to talk to people. When he was only a few steps away from the sofas, he looked back and forth between them.
Before you could think about it too long, you slid a little to the side, as if an invitation. There was more than enough space next to you for him to sit down without you touching. However, you left the final decision to him.
You didn't have to wait long. Freddie plopped down on the couch - just a touch closer than usual, but still far enough away that you almost questioned if you were just imagining it. Not that you were complaining.
He opened the book he'd been holding under his arm.
Not exactly subtle, he kept watching you out of the corner of his eye. As soon as you lifted your head, however, he immediately averted his gaze.
Actually, you didn't want to ask. You weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer. What if it was a problem just you had. But still.
After another moment of thought you blurted: "Do you ever get tired of away games?"
"Huh?" He looked up, apparently not having anticipated such a question.
Well, there was no turning back now anyway.
"Like, traveling around all the time, being away from home so much?" you tried to explain.
His answer came easily. "Oh, absolutely. I used to hate it so much. Now it’s not as bad anymore. I mean, some days I would still be rather at but, ehn." He shrugged his shoulders.
Only after a moment did you ask further, having the feeling he wasn't going to add anything more.
"Used to? What changed?"
"Mainly the team. Getting to know the people you spend the days with has been incredibly helpful. It feels less like a business trip and more like… Like a school trip when you were younger." For a moment he got a far-away look in his eyes as if lost in thought.
Your gaze glided across the room. ‘Business trip’ summed up pretty well how it felt to you. Even though you've had superficial conversations with a lot of people, you probably didn't know any of them nearly well enough to put them anywhere near the friends category.
But of course, you’d also noticed how many of the others were always planning activities in groups or just talking and joking over the meals.
You exhaled briefly.
Freddie watched you for a moment. He tilted his head, then continued slowly. His words seemed measured: “You know, the first road trip after my trade here was particularly hard."
You hadn't even thought about that. Your stomach tightened at the thought of how Freddie must have felt.
"Of course, at most everything is the same, but it still feels so- so unfamiliar. You don't know who's sitting next to whom on the plane. You don't know who's a good roommate and who might snore loudly or leave their things everywhere. And all these little rituals and changes that might not even exist at home games."
"But it got better?" You looked at the hands in your lap.
"It really does. The first few times the unfamiliarity, it's so exhausting. But with each more trip, it becomes more and more of a habit."
After a beat of silence, Freddie added slowly: "I don't want to lie to you. Sometimes I'd still rather stay at home. Home games are definitely more enjoyable, as far as that goes. But they're exceptions, just like everyone has bad days."
Encouragingly, he gently pressed his shoulder against yours. The brief touch turned into a long moment, somehow your whole sides touching. Your arm rested against his, your legs just a few inches away.
After a few moments, when he still hadn't slipped away again, you let yourself relax against him. Gradually you could feel Freddie’s muscles losing their tension as well.
"What about Denmark? Do you ever miss being there?" you asked into the silence between you. Freddie looked out of the window.
"When I was younger, I missed it a lot more than I do now. I haven't lived there for so long now that I hardly know any different."
Your eyebrows drew together. You didn't know whether the statement reassured you or whether it made you want to give Freddie a long hug. Somehow it sounded so sad.
"I can still visit it regularly. And it's not as if my family would ever let me forget the language." He pointed to the book next to him.
You hadn't looked at it closely before. But now you noticed that the title consisted of large - obviously Danish - words.
"Just sometimes..." he shrugged his shoulders unsure. Then he picked up his book again with a sigh.
This effectively ended the conversation. You wanted to ask more, but the far-away look in Freddie’s eyes stopped you. Now you felt bad. Making Freddie sad hadn’t been your intention.
As if he could read your mind, he knocked his elbow against yours gently. You took a deep breath. Returning the gesture, you began reading again as well.
While your earlier worries had calmed down for the time being, now, with every breath you took, you were made aware of how close you and Freddie were sitting to each other.
You didn't want to have to get up again.
–
The flight home was uneventful. A general tiredness hung over everyone.
You yawned again as you finally stepped outside into the cool night air.
The tiredness made you inattentive and you flinched when someone unexpectedly appeared next to you.
By now you didn't even need to look at him to recognize Freddie. Just his stature and the hint of ginger hair were enough.
He casually reached for your bag and took it from your hand.
Baffled, you almost stumbled over your feet, looking up at him.
"That's my bag."
"Yep," he said with a grin. He had slowed down to give you a chance to catch up. "At least I hope it’s yours and not some random one you just took."
You rolled your eyes. “Then what are you doing with it? Now that we've established that it is my bag."
"I'm giving you a ride." He stated casually, then started walking again.
If you hadn't been so exhausted, you would have at least tried to protest out of politeness.
Nevertheless, you couldn't help but at least tease tiredly: "Maybe I've got another ride by now."
"Is that why you have the Uber app open?"
You looked down at the phone in your hands. Huh, you couldn't say anything against that.
Freddie became serious for a moment. "Hey, if you really don't want to, I'm happy to just wait here with you until your Uber arrives. But the offer stands."
"You really don't have to," spoke the good manners out of you. Your parents would have been proud. Even to your ears, however, it sounded very half-hearted.
Freddie stopped. You almost ran into him. Since you managed to stop just in time, you were now standing right in front of each other instead. If you had leaned forward just a little, you would have been touching.
For a long moment, Freddie held your gaze. "I know I don't have to. But I want to." The sincerity in his words made you swallow. For a few seconds, you stood in front of each other, looking at each other. You could have sworn Freddie's eyes flickered down your face for a moment.
But then he just cleared his throat and started walking again. You ignored the small spark of disappointment in your stomach.
You were sure that Freddie purposely made himself taller as he looked down at you and joked: "And no offense to you, but you're really not big enough to be threatening."
"Hey! I can be scary if I want to be."
"Uh-uh. Whatever you say."
You stuck your tongue out at him, even if he couldn't see it, as he opened the trunk.
For some reason, you had expected the car ride with Freddie to be awkward. Instead, comfortable silence spread between you. After you had told him your address, he navigated the car slowly through the dark streets.
You watched the streetlights pass by the windshield for a while.
"So, do you give all the poor stranded newbies a ride?" It could be taken as a simple joke. You tried to keep your voice carefully neutral. Still, the mood in the car shifted. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather more serious than before. It felt important.
"Would you believe me if I said I was just being helpful?" Freddie didn't even sound like he believed the reason himself. It wasn't a straight answer, but it wasn't an immediate deflection either. You could just accept this as the answer and move on, just, you didn’t want that anymore.
"Normally? Yes. But when you say it like that? Not really”, you still kept the tone light.
"Yeah... My sister is the only one in our family who is a good liar. As a teenager, I always envied her for that. She could outsmart our mother every time."
A small smile graced your lips at the story. You could literally see it in front of you, a young Freddie stammering as he tried to come up with a story about why he was home late.
Freddie parked the car in front of your house. He continued to look straight ahead. In the dim light, you couldn’t be sure, but you could have sworn his ears were turning red.
"I mean, it really wasn't a big deal. And you're not the worst company either."
"Such a high compliment," you grinned, "Not the worst company."
Maybe his cheeks had gained a little color too.
"But really, thank you, for the ride. It probably wasn’t on your way."
"It was nothing, really. And maybe it was also a little selfish." He said it into the quiet of the night as if it were a precious secret. He turned his head towards you and looked straight at you. There was warmth in his gaze, perhaps a spark of hope.
"I like- I like spending time with you."
You couldn't help but smile at the words. Freddie smiled back.
Very slowly, one of his hands moved towards your face, as if he was giving you time to object. You immediately leaned into the touch as he cupped your cheek.
He stroked the corner of your mouth with his thumb. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. One of your hands rested on his forearm.
"Good thing I like spending time with you too," you whispered softly.
Afterward, you couldn't remember who moved first. Freddie's face came closer towards yours. Your free hand buried itself in his shirt, the other one letting go to run through his hair.
As soon as your lips met, time seemed to stand still for a moment. You forgot all your previous thoughts. The only thing existing was the feeling of his lips pressing gently against yours.
Soon, the sweet kiss turned deeper. The angle wasn’t great, but you made it work.
When you finally broke away from each other, you didn’t move far. Your forehead rested against his, you could feel his breath against your lips.
A small giggle escaped you. Your eyes met. It made Freddie’s smile widen, before his hand slid into your neck to pull your lips to his once again.
–
It was pure coincidence that you had packed your skates.
After a morning of unpacking deliveries and doing inventory, you were ready to just go home and curl up on your couch. Only Sarah, with whom you had shared the work, had made it more bearable. Before, you had only known her by sight. Now you couldn't remember the last time you had made friends with a colleague so fast.
She was also the first who saw the note on your locker. With a raised eyebrow, she watched as you read it. Your expression had apparently told her enough because she didn't question your decision to stay in the arena and instead said goodbye with a wink.
The note was pretty inconspicuous.
'Meet me on the ice?’
It was the thought of who the message was probably from that made your heart skip a beat.
When you stepped onto the ice this time, Freddie was already skating slow circles across the rink. You were delighted to realize that you could be faster than him in full gear and after several hours of training.
It was a moment of being inattentive – and maybe also you getting tired after a few laps – that he took advantage of. With a gentle push, cushioned on all sides by his pads, he pushed you against the glass.
With your back against the glass and his arms on either side of you, you stopped.
"Hi." You grinned up into his face. Through the mask, he grinned back just as widely.
"Hi."
"What a coincidence to see you here."
"What, were you expecting someone else, skat?" The way Freddie emphasized the last word told you he knew exactly what that would do to you. Your heart melted.
"Writing notes. Pet names. Is this becoming some high school romance novel?"
"I don't even know what you mean, elskling." You could hear the amusement in his voice. Before you had a chance to answer, Freddie had already pushed himself away.
He positioned himself in the net and leaned down. It didn't take you that long to get used to shooting again.
–
With your skates in hand and a pleasant exhaustion making your legs heavy, all you wanted to do was grab your stuff and finally head back to your apartment.
As you turned the corner, you almost ran into someone. You only just managed to stop in time.
"Oh, I wasn't expecting you to still be here. Didn’t you finish several hours ago?" Tony looked down at you. In one arm he carried a pile of sticks, in the other a large folder overflowing with notes.
"But, oh wait, it's actually good that you're here."
The next words made your heart stop for a moment.
"I just need to talk to you for a minute."
When had that sentence ever been followed by something good?
You couldn't say for sure how long Tony had been standing here. Maybe he had just seen you with Freddie. Before that, you hadn't even thought about whether that was allowed. What if both you and Freddie got into trouble for it?
Or even worse. What if he found out about you and Freddie off the ice? You had only briefly skimmed the contract when you’d signed. You had been far too fascinated by this world, which was secret to every normal fan, to care about that stuff. Not that you’d even expected something like this to happen.
Now you were desperately trying to remember if there was a paragraph about whether relationships with players were allowed at all.
"I won't keep you long," Tony finally snapped you out of your thoughts.
"Brynn - that was the one who was ill. You were his replacement, I don't know if you ever heard his name." You couldn't remember it, but you'd been told so much in the first few days that you could very well have just forgotten it again.
"Anyway. Brynn will be back tomorrow," Tony's face stiffened, "So technically, we don't need any extra help anymore."
"Oh." Of all the fears that had been running through your mind, that hadn't been a scenario you’d considered. You had known from the start that it would only be a short-term job. But you’d have never expected it to be this short.
Tony smiled somberly. "I'm really sorry. I didn't think it would be so quick."
"Yeah, of course. I mean, it's great for Brynn." You weren’t lying. Obviously, it was good to hear, that he was healthy again. But at the same time, knowing you’d lose your job made your heart ache. Even in the short time, you’d grown to love it.
"Yeah," Tony nodded a little absently. He looked conflicted. "Okay, so. Technically I'm not supposed to say anything yet, but... my boss is retiring in the next few weeks. His replacement should be decided by the end of the week. We've had a few conversations and let's just say... I feel like I've got a pretty good chance of getting the role."
"That's really great for you?" you said slowly. Not that you weren't happy for Tony, but your enthusiasm was limited after you'd practically been fired just a minute before.
"That means there's a job opening to be filled." He looked at you meaningfully.
It took you a moment to finally understand. "Oooh."
"Yeah," he nodded, now with a hint of a grin on his lips. "I could put in a good word."
"Really?"
Tony nodded. You had to suppress a loud cheer.
–
It was a strange feeling. Last away games you’d wished so desperately to be home again. This time you wished you could join. Having to sit at home and having to say goodbye to Freddie sounded almost worse.
"I'm going to miss you for the next few days."
Freddie came up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his chest. More than willingly, you let yourself fall against him.
He looked at you questioningly over your shoulder. "You're not coming?"
Then it seemed to come back to him too. "Oh, right."
It had taken you almost two days to tell him about the conversation with Tony. You were unsure how to. Plus, an annoying voice in the back of your head that would convince you that Freddie wouldn't care at all.
In the end, you blurted it out one afternoon. In your head, you stuck your tongue out at the nasty voice when Freddie immediately took you in his arms and asked how you were doing.
Even now, he gave you another apologetic hug.
Only one more day until the day Tony would hopefully call.
The timer beeped. Sighing you peeled yourself from Freddie to take the tray out of the oven.
You sat it down on the counter next to the first, a lot less successful attempt.
You had wanted to do something nice for Freddie, had read up on Danish pastries the day before and after long contemplation finally saved a recipe on your phone. You didn’t know how to pronounce Brunsviger properly, but the pictures had looked great and the recipe seemed easy enough.
You still didn't know exactly where things had gone wrong. Although you had assured Freddie that he really didn't have to – and really, shouldn’t – he had tried a forkful of it anyway. As expected, it wasn’t good. Still, there was a traitorous wetness in his eyes and a long hug.
For the second attempt, Freddie hadn't left your side and guided you through it.
You left some on the counter for Jane. A silent apology for the last time you’d had Freddie over. You might have forgotten to tell her beforehand.
Or maybe, tell her about this at all. There just hadn’t been a good opportunity, especially also constantly having to think about your job.
On this day of all days Jane had come home a lot earlier than you anticipated. For a few seconds, she’d just blinked at you two sitting on the couch, you with your legs in Freddie’s lap.
Then, with a tight voice, she had asked: “Do you have a moment.” Her head nodding to the kitchen.
It had made you feel a little guilty how shocked she looked. Her first words being: “Is that Frederik Andersen in our living room?”.
Obviously, she was happy for you, after the first shock wore off.
The piece of Brunsviger was gone the next morning as you brought Freddie to the door.
"You're gonna be great," you told him goodbye.
The hug was long. Neither of you wanted to be the first to leave. In the end, it was time that drove you apart. If Freddie wanted to get to the airport on time, he had to hurry.
–
Of course, you watched the games. The first game was great, the second one maybe even better. It was also the first time since the new job that you were actually able to give the games your full attention again. Even if you hadn't really noticed it before, you had missed it a little.
You had a good time. When Freddie had a particularly good save, you wrote him a message. You knew he would reply after the game in the flustered way he always reacted to compliments.
The phone call one evening still took you by surprise. A smile spread across your face. "Hey."
"Hej."
Before you could even reply, you heard a voice in the background.
"Hey, Freddie, what got you smiling like this?" You didn’t recognize the voice but you also didn't have to in order to understand the clearly teasing undertone.
The rustling from the line told you that Freddie must have covered the microphone for a moment. The muffled words he threw back sounded a lot like an insult. The response was laughter.
"Talking to your girlfriend?" came another voice, also obviously meant to tease.
Freddie didn’t reply. You could only imagine his facial expression.
Apparently, it was an interesting one. They probably also had expected some kind of denial.
Now there were several voices talking excitedly over each other.
"Wait what?" - "Wait are you serious?" - "Since when?"
"You can't just say that and leave! You have to-"
Then the voices in the background suddenly disappeared.
"Sorry, I just need to change rooms for a minute”, he said a little sheepishly. "They might have found out that we've been talking."
"Do you mind?" You chewed on your lower lip as you awaited the answer. Freddie didn't sound too worried, but still, probably better to ask.
"Eh, not really" Then came the cautious question from him too: "Does it bother you?"
You took a moment to really think about it. Maybe it should have bothered you. Especially considering the fact that this was still so new with you two. Still, you couldn't find it in you to worry about it right now. You were far too happy for that.
"No. It probably had to come out somehow. Even if it was quicker than I thought. For hockey players, they're surprisingly smart."
Freddie's laughter rang out from the line. It made you miss seeing the little crinkles form around his eyes. "I'll tell them you said that”, he warned.
"Tony called today."
"Tony? From equipment?" Immediately you could hear Freddie perk up.
As if you knew another Tony.
"Uh-hu. You still have space in your car for one more person?" You let yourself fall backward onto your bed as you gave him a few moments to understand what you were saying.
A few seconds of silence and then a cautiously hopeful: "Yeah?"
"Just so I’m not almost late again, obviously." The corners of your mouth slowly began to pull into a grin.
"Really? Does that mean...?" The joy in his voice only made your grin widen.
"I'm employed. Permanently this time. Not just temporary."
Even as you heard the news from Tony himself, you could barely contain your happiness. As soon as you'd hung up, you'd jumped so loudly that even Jane had come out of the next room.
"That's fantastic!"
You couldn't even put into words how incredibly happy you were just then. The only thing that would’ve made the moment better was if you could have hugged Freddie at that moment.
–
Before you knew it, the day of the third and final game of the road trip had arrived. As you watched the game on the side while you prepared your dinner, you had a good feeling.
The first period wasn't ideal, but it wasn't disastrous either. The second period started with a goal for the Canes. You jumped up and down enthusiastically, broccoli in hand.
After that, it was all downhill. At the end of the second 20 minutes, the Canes were already 2 goals behind. Two more goals followed. Freddie got pulled in the last 5 minutes. You could almost feel his frustration through the screen as he went down the tunnel.
At that moment, you wished you could’ve been there. How much you would’ve liked to give him a hug and tell him that everything would be okay.
You hesitated for a moment before sending a text. You definitely didn't want to annoy him. A text could never really express the comfort you wanted to give him, but it felt even worse not to write anything.
You tried not to think too much about it when you still hadn't heard back after half an hour. He was probably busy with his post-game routines. After all, they were set to travel back today and arrive late tonight. Surely, he would reply on the plane.
–
It was pure coincidence that you were looking at your phone at that exact moment. Of course, you hadn't been checking for new messages every 5 minutes all evening. Who would do that? Definitely not you. (There were at least 6 and a half minutes on average between each time you checked your phone.)
So, it was definitely a complete coincidence that you were able to read the text the minute it flashed up on your phone.
It was just two short lines. An address.
It wasn’t even a question if you should go. Before you could even really think about it, you had already grabbed your jacket and put on your shoes.
As you closed the front door, your cell phone beeped with another message.
‘Only if you want to. Might not be in the best mood tonight.’
An obvious offer of a way out. As if you hadn't been waiting for this the whole evening. As if the thought of seeing Freddie again in just a few minutes didn't give you butterflies in your stomach.
Your heart broke a little at how uncertain the texts sounded, as if you hadn't missed him for the last few days.
Excitement tingled in your fingers as you finally stepped into the elevator to Freddie’s apartment. It had been a short drive.
The door swung open. Freddie was standing in front of you. For a moment, you just looked at each other silently, then he literally pulled you against his chest. More than willingly, you sank into his arms.
You buried your face in his sweater. The warmth of his body and his familiar scent enveloped you. You could’ve stayed like this forever.
Freddie pressed a gentle kiss into your hair before holding you just a little tighter.
It was the rumbling of his stomach that finally separated you. Even though Freddie was reluctant to let you go, you shooed him into the apartment. He shouldn't have to starve because of you. Who knows when he’d last eaten before the flight?
Freddie apparently understood what you wanted from him and so he led you through the entrance area into the open kitchen. There was already a pot on the stove, some kind of pasta in it. Next to it was a pan of chopped vegetables.
While he took a large wooden spoon and stirred it slowly, you jumped onto one of the counters and sat down. Given your height and the height of the counters, which were definitely adapted to Freddie, it wasn't as easy as you thought, but the twitch in the corner of Freddie's mouth made it worth the effort.
From your position, you could watch Freddie. How his movements were all a little too choppy and the tense line in his shoulders. How he put the spoon down too hard on the counter. How he didn’t raise his eyes.
"It wasn't your fault." You said quietly.
Freddie exhaled in disbelief. He didn't look up at you.
Only when you reached out a hand for him did he come closer. He propped himself up with his arms on both sides of you, resting his forehead against your shoulder.
"Even though you might not believe me just yet, it wasn't your fault," you repeated, hoping that your words would get through to him eventually.
One arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other you let run slowly through his hair.
"You did everything you could. It just wasn't your game. Can't win them all."
He let it pass for a moment, then took a deep breath. He turned his head. With a quick kiss against your neck, he pulled away from you.
"Thank you." He couldn't quite meet your gaze, but you still saw his words for what they were. Not just a thank you for right now, but the texts, the coming over, all the times before that.
"Nothing to thank me for," you confirmed. Freddie shook his head lovingly.
Nevertheless, he probably decided not to disagree for the moment. Instead, he took a plate from the cupboard. Silently he held it out to you, but you shook your head. You’d already eaten.
While Freddie ate, you sat beside him on the sofa. Your legs pressed together with soft music playing in the background for company.
When Freddie got up to take his plate back to the kitchen, you watched him.
Until he came back you hadn't moved from your seat, but apparently, Freddie was no longer satisfied with your previous seating arrangement. With a little shifting around, he finally settled behind you.
His legs were on either side of you, his back against the couch cushions, your back against his chest. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist, drawing slow circles into your side. The other hand was intertwined with yours on your lap.
Your words were quiet. You talked about the last few days, hockey the topic you both ignored. While you told him about the cute dog you'd seen while going grocery shopping, Freddie about something funny one of his teammates had done at team breakfast.
So much more important than your conversations, however, was the fact that you were together at that moment. You enjoyed the closeness; the body heat that radiated from him and slowly made you sleepy.
Every once in a while, Freddie took turns in gently kissing your temple and your forehead. Each time you sank a little more against him.
–
"Happy New Year," Freddie murmured. His arms around your waist pulled you closer to him.
"Happy New Year," you whispered back against his lips. With your hands on the back of his neck, you reached up for a kiss.
Even after all these years, you still weren't tired of it. Hopefully, you’d never be.
#hockey imagine#hockey fic#frederik andersen#frederik andersen imagine#frederik andersen fic#frederik andersen x reader#frederik andersen x f!reader#nic writes#winter fic exchange 2k24#winter fic exchange
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Yesterday I had two ideas for a steddie fic, so you'll be getting two updates from me today...
The first one is a modern (ish it would be set in the 80s) day Pride & Prejudice with Steve as Darcy, Robin as Bingley, and Eddie as Lizzy. Chrissy as Jane. Probably Billy as Wickham.
Nancy as Lady Catherine, but in the way that she's the catalyst at the end that comes up to Steve and tells him he can't date Eddie. Not because Eddie isn't in love with him, but no, because she thinks Steve is straight.
Cue Steve rushing to Eddie to tell him he still loved him.
Not sure where the rest of the gang would filter through. But none of them are related to each other like they are in the book.
I think Vickie would be a great Charlotte though. Deciding to be with someone she doesn't love because she doesn't think she can be with the one she wants because they're (Robin) out of her league.
The scene that gets Eddie to hate him on sight is they're at a party and he overhears Robin and Steve talking and Steve's too embarrassed to go on to the dance floor so he keeps making excuses. Tells her that Chrissy is the only pretty one there. Which Robin calls him out on because Eddie is soooo his type.
Steve scoffs and calls him cute at best.
Now Eddie who has carefully constructed his image to metal thinks that cute is the antithesis of that and gets offended.
Then in comes Billy and starts bad mouthing Steve. Saying all sorts of bullshit that Eddie just eats right up. Flirted with a 14 year old girl (Max and Steve was protecting her from Billy), deliberately threw a basketball game (had gotten a concussion and instead of continuing to play like the coach wanted went to the ER instead), and the list goes on about how miserable Steve has made Billy's life.
Chrissy doesn't believe it because the guys on the basketball team the following year love Steve. But Eddie thinks they were tricked by the King Steve image.
Robin isn't any help regarding the rumors because she wasn't friends with Steve until after all that went down and she wasn't in marching band that year, her parents couldn't pay for the uniform.
I know I know Bingley is the rich one and Jane is the poor one, but work with me here, it's based on personality. Robin isn't naive enough to be Jane.
Anyway.
Steve is oblivious to the drama going on around him because he's trying keep Max out of Billy's hands, as he took custody of her after her mom was unable. And dorky as hell.
He accidentally breaks up Robin and Chrissy with a remark about how Chrissy didn't seem all that interested in her (she was being shy Robin being her first girlfriend and didn't know how to act).
So when Steve asks Eddie out (at party hosted by Nancy that Eddie was trying to duck out of when Steve spotted him), Eddie flips out on Steve throwing all sorts of allegations around and Steve is devastated. He leaves this long voice mail on Eddie's phone explaining his side of the story and Eddie is gutted.
Steve really was a cool guy. But it's too late. Steve has gone back to Indy with Robin as they both nurse their broken hearts.
Chrissy goes to stay with her brother in Bloomington and the band takes Eddie to Indy not realizing that's where Steve's gone.
Their van breaks down near Steve's place and while they're stuck in town waiting until it gets fixed Steve and Eddie get thrown together a lot and Eddie falls head over heels.
Just as things are getting good between them, Eddie's van is fixed and Wayne tells him to haul ass because Billy has been threatening the Hellfire kiddos about Max's location.
Steve comes rushing to the rescue and gets a plate to the head for his trouble, but because of all the witnesses, Billy is forced to run, leaving everyone safe at last.
But Steve tells the kiddos not tell Eddie it was him that rescued Lucas and Max, thinking that Eddie still hated him.
Steve helps get Robin and Chrissy back together and now Eddie done for. He's in love with this man.
Cue the Nancy scene and Steve and Eddie finally getting together.
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You sat in the room you hated, checking the clock. Five minutes. You were hungry, pretty damn near starving, actually. But you didn’t want the door to your room to open. You didn’t want the food she provided under the guise of care. You scoffed. The only thing she cared about was her meal. You didn’t think you could bleed so much until you came here. Three minutes.
You flopped backwards onto your bed, closing your eyes. Thinking of a time before you were little more than a good source. But all you could think of was her smile, her laugh, her entrancing eyes. How her words seemed to flow like water over ice. That same ice could be seen in her gaze in your more recent memories.
You refusing her food, pushing her away when she sat with her. The memories continued as the ice in her eyes seemed to prick you as you held her gaze. Then, in all the memories, she would grab you by your wrist, the back of your neck, your waist. She’d pull you closer with surprising force and-
You opened your eyes. You knew what happened next and you didn’t want to re-live it. You checked the clock.
No. It couldn’t be that time already-
The door clicked open, and in she stepped.
“Hello, love.”
“Jane” you said, not raising your head to look at her. It was a small act of rebellion, but not one that went unnoticed. She strode over to you, grabbing your jaw and wrenching it upward. You hissed a breath between your teeth.
“Look at me when I talk to you.” You stared at her for a second before nodding.
She smiled.
“Good.” You mustered a weak smile as she continued. “It’s time to eat, my love.” You stiffened.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat. I can’t eat unless I know you’re safe and you won’t pass out.”
“I-“
“Don’t you want me to be happy, love?” You sat stunned for a moment.
“No! You- you tricked me, you kidnapped me, and you suck my blood!” She just stared at you for a second, and you braced yourself to dodge her, but she didn’t move.
“Eat.”
“But-“
“My dear,” she hissed at you, “I’m being lenient with you. Now eat the fucking food.”
you ate the food. A dinner of tofu, spinach, and lentils. Iron rich foods. You glanced up at Jane, pleadingly. She spoke.
“Remember when we first met? You were so cute. I always knew I wanted this. Well, not you being so stubborn. But that can be fixed.” She moved towards you and your heart pounded in your throat.
She smirked at you.
“Don’t be so scared love, I’m not ready to eat quite yet.” You tried to slow your quickening heartbeat as she continued. “Anyway, I always knew I wanted you with me, here. Just for me.” She grinned, sighing. She was very close to you now, and you would’ve felt the warmth of her body if she wasn’t ice-cold as her eyes.
“Alright. Now I’m hungry.” You stiffened.
“Jane, wait-“ you were stopped as she put a finger to your lips.
“Shh, it won’t take long. It won’t hurt too much, you know that. Well, maybe a little extra, for not eating yesterday.” She laughed, exposing her fangs.
“Now, where should I start?” You tried to keep your heart rate steady as she traced a finger along your wrist.
“Here?” she moved her hand to your forearm.
“Maybe here?” You knew she feel how fast your heart was pumping, how scared you were. “Hmm, I think…here!” She said, landing her finger on a vein in your neck. Your heart beat ever faster as she positioned you on her lap, gently moved your head to the side to expose your neck, and bit.
you tried not to move, the faster this was over the better. Jane finished up and put a bandage on your neck.
“That didn’t hurt too much, did it love?”
It had. It was all you could do to keep the tears in your eyes and off of your face. But you cleared your throat and answered
“No.”
She rested her head on your shoulder, relaxing. You stiffened, not used to her touch. She started speaking to you.
“What’s so bad about this life, my love? What makes you put up such a fight?”
She moved so you were face to face.
“Why can’t you just listen? Would that be so hard?” Her voice was soft, but her words felt like knives. She tilted your head up with a single finger, continuing her speech.
“I hate having to hurt you, my love. I try to be patient with you…but-“ She grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer, whispering in your ear.
“Sometimes you’re just insufferable.”
#Hey I don’t remember writing this?? But it was in my drafts so I edited it a little and here we are. Content. Enjoy#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta fanfiction#creepypasta headcanon#headcanon#yandere creepypasta headcanons#yandere creepypasta x reader#yandere creepypasta#tw yandere#jane the killer headcanons#jane the killer creepypasta#jane the killer
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Love Comes First Chapter 9
AO3
She watches him struggle at his desk. Open Bible, and commentaries, and his notebook in front of him.
“I thought you had your sermon.” He looks up at her voice.
“I did it is just… I want to expose him,” a quick shake of her head, “not directly but those like him.”
“Will you be preaching out of rage?” She steps fully in, resting her hands on his tense shoulders and starting to massage them. He sighs and rests into her embrace.
“I am trying not. Rather out of love and maybe a bit of sadness. It is hard Claire. Real hard. I am so angry.”
Her head rests on top of his and her eyes drift shut. “Yes. Me too. For Tabby, Sarah, Jane, Nelly. And all the ones who we don’t know about. The thought of anyone…” she swallows hard, “God Jamie.” He stands and draws her into his arms. They hold each other.
“I know. We will see to those God puts before us. We will pray for those who we don’t know about.”
“And you will build your sermon on exposing the evil that is all around us.”
He nods against her neck. “Aye.”
“Mama, why is Tabby sad? Is it the coming baby?” To Leah, every bad thing in her life is due to the child that will displace her as the baby.
“No, that isn’t it,” they have discussed how to address this with the younger children, “her mate, Sarah, is having some problems in her family.”
“Is that why she doesn’t come over as much?” Leah is a bright and observant child.
“Yes it is.”
“I will pray that she will start coming by more so Tabby will feel better.”
“Thank you darling. You are a good sister and will make an excellent big sister.”
“Aye. Aye.” She rolls her eyes as she walks away but she is grinning.
“She will forgive you.” Faith tells her. Tabby lays across the bed head down.
“Her family is broken. Her mam had to go back to work. Jane is in child care after school.”
“All better than what was happening continuing.”
Faith and James were both furious at the news. He is buried under the jail, eh?” being James response. Faith wept, angry tears something she only does when she is fully irate.
“I know… it is just.”
“Give her time. She will need you.”
“It is better that a millstone be placed around your neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea then to harm one of these little ones.” It is a dramatic beginning to his sermon that has the congregation’s attention.
Usually he starts with a joke or a personal story. There is no smile on his face as he stands before them.
“We know all sin is equal in God’s eyes but, in our humanity I think we can agree that sin committed against a child ranks up there with murder. To exploit the innocence of a child…”
“That was an intense sermon Brother Jamie,” John says as they talk after, “all is right with your children, I pray.”
“Aye, a mate of theirs. It is being dealt with it is just…”
“Yes, evil is increasing it seems.”
“Do we need to discuss this issue with the youth?” Fergus asks the same day.
It is an excellent idea. “Aye, let’s get some ideas together.”
“We need to talk about it with Peter and Leah too.” Claire says when they discuss Fergus ‘ idea later that night.
She is right. He knows it. It is just… “ Aye. I hate that we have too but you’re right.”
“I loath it and the people that make it necessary. That we live in a world where grown men do horrible things to little children.” Her voice rises at the end before she bursts into tears.
He holds her against his chest as she weeps stroking her hair and saying Gaelic phrases of comfort.
“Righteous anger, eh. We are allowed it. Jesus isn’t just grace and mercy but justice and vengeance.”
She sniffles and wipes her eyes. “Vengeance to Him but justice that we can help with.”
“Aye and protection. Starting with talking to the weans.”
“Yes. After school tomorrow.”
They sit side by side on the couch. Both rest their hands on Rollo, who lays at their feet.
“We need to talk to you guys.” Jamie starts out.
“About the baby?” Leah asks.
Her mama shakes her head, hiding a smile behind her hand. Serious subject and she doesn’t want to confuse them but Leah’s obsession with the coming baby is amusing.
“No baby. You know that Tabby is upset about her mate?” Jamie asks them both.
“Aye da.”
“Well, her dad was mean to her and her sister. They had to take him out of their house.”
“Did he hit her?” Peter asks with a frown. He has always been taught that lasses are to be protected.
“No,” he looks to Claire who takes his hand and squeezes it. He takes a steading breath and continues to the hard part, “No, he touched them under their knickers.”
The children share a look. “But, that is a bad touch!” Leah calls out.
“Aye it is.”
“If anyone does that to you or asks you to keep secrets from your dad and I, you are to tell us immediately.”
“Respect is earned not expected. You understand? We have taught you to respect adults but adults that do this type of thing aren’t worthy of respect.”
“Aye da.” They say. Both are frowning. The puppy whines and climbs up on the couch and lays his head on their laps.
“We hate to have to talk to you about this.”
“It is okay, mama. It’s important.”
“Aye important.” Leah echoes her brother.
“If you have any questions, we are always available.” Jamie reminds them.
“We know. I have homework.” Peter says.
“Me too.” Leah likes practicing her letters beside Peter each evening.
“Go on guys.” Claire releases them. Rollo follows them.
Claire sighs and rests against Jamie. “It is okay. I know this is awful but necessary.”
“I know I just hate it. All of it.”
“Me too.”
#my writing#outlander fanfic#love comes first#chapter 9#jamie and claire#outlander fandom#cannon divergence#modern au
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