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duskholland · 4 years ago

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Crash Into You || Tom Holland Smut

ice hockey!tom x figure skater!reader — smut.

summary ↠ you can’t stand the ice hockey team. they’re loud, brutish, and incredibly annoying. it’s just inconvenient that you can’t seem to stop running into their star player, an irritatingly suave man called tom, nor deny the way your pulse quickens every time he’s around... word count ↠ 20.2k. warnings ↠ mild depictions of sport-related injury including blood and nose breakage, a lot of bad language, some jealousy, and nsfw smut material! extended smut warnings are beneath the cut, but this is 18+ !!! minors dni. a/n ↠ it’s funny because I tell myself I don’t like sport aus, yet this is somehow one of my favourite things that I’ve ever written...? the au is kinda ~obscure~ I guess, but it checked so many of my boxes whilst writing it, and I had a great time. it’s also the longest thing I’ve ever posted?! ahh !! I hope you’ll like dutchy, and give this a go even if you’re not really into hockey <3 —↠ there are so many different people that helped me out with this!!! in addition to all the wonderful anons that sent in ideas last month, I want to extend a huge thank you to @geminiparkers @tetralea @hollandharrison @honeyspidey @stixnstripesworld and @uglypastels for each helping out in some way, whether that be through brainstorming ideas, making incredible art, or teaching me about hockey and/or skating! <3<3 also—the biggest thank you ever to the lovely sammy @t-holland2080 for not disowning me after editing this for me and seeing my basic spelling errors lmfao. ily <3 hope you all enjoy !!

extra !! @uglypastels made two beautiful pieces of fanart for tom aka dutchy — you can view these here + here !!! @softholand also made an absolutely incredible moodboard based off the fic, and you can view that here :’) thank you to both of them for using their amazing artistic talents on this fic + making me literally like. the happiest writer on the planet :’)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

extended smut warnings ↠ two sections of smut. this is a certified Horny Warmy™️ (thanks chlo for that category) so it’s very gentle, very wholesome. includes oral and fingering (fem-receiving) and protected MxF sex :’)

✧ *:･ﾟCrash Into You ･ﾟ:*✧

“Why are they always so noisy? How hard can it be to hit a bit of plastic?”

You laugh quietly, glancing at your friend, Yelena. She’s staring out across the rink, hands resting on the plastic barrier that lines the perimeter with irritation in her icy blue eyes. A warming blush tickles the apples of her cheeks, and it softens the expression of frustration that she wears so well.

“Seriously,” she adds. “Listen to them… It’s so… unpleasant.”

Your teeth catch your lower lip as you bring your gaze away from Yelena and instead onto the object of her anger: the hockey team.

Your eyes zip around the rink, watching as the players run through yet another drill. The team—Kingston Kites—, 20 in full, 7 currently on the ice, crash around the arena like a cyclone of a thousand moving calamitous parts. For the last few months, the practice rink at your sports centre has been closed, which has led to the pre-existing rivalry between the hockey team and your own team of figure skaters deepening. There have been arguments between your managers and theirs about which team gets priority over the exhibition rink. What’s emerged has been a bitter taste in the air. Simply put: the figure skating team dislikes the ice hockey team, and the feeling is mutual.

“I dunno,” you mutter. “I guess it means they’re working hard.”

The noises are rather distracting. You watch as the blurry figures, shrouded in the team colours of white, green, and orange, line up and take shot after shot at the small net on the ice. After each attempted shot on goal, the players have a tendency to release loud grunts and exclamations of exertion, and they echo around the empty arena. Whilst you agree with Yelena that the noises are irritating, a small part of you also admires their commitment.

“Perhaps.” Yelena steps back from the side and starts to stretch her arms. You do the same. There’s a fifteen-minute overlap in the scheduled slots on ice when the figure skating team uses half the rink to warm up as the hockey team uses the other to cool down. After the fifteen minutes play out, the Zamboni skims out the cuts in the rink, and the hockey team finally leaves you alone. It’s not ideal to share the rink, but every second you can spend practising helps. “I can’t stand them.”

You smile softly, slowly rotating your right arm as you warm up the muscles. “I know,” you agree. “You always complain about them.”

She scowls, eyes glistening with fierce irritation. “Because they’re annoying. So dramatic and messy.”

“Mmm, well, I don’t think they’re very fond of us either,” you respond. You bend over, slowly rubbing your fingers over the bandage you have wrapped around your right ankle. “Did you hear about Jenna and Lou in the gym last week?”

“No. What happened?”

You sit down on the cool floor of the arena, thankful for the many layers you’re wearing. As you slowly start to massage your ankle, you glance up at your friend.

“They got interrupted by a couple of the guys. Uh, Osterfield and Barrett? They wanted to do a weights competition or something.”

Yelena scoffs. “Losers.”

You smirk. “They won, though. Lou and Jen. Apparently, the guys stormed out. Couldn’t take getting beaten by a couple of skaters.”

Your friend cackles then offers you a hand up. You grunt as you stand and steady yourself, glancing down at your skates and checking the laces. A loud buzzer goes off, and you hear a few yells of disgruntlement come off the ice as the players realise it’s the end of their solo practice and the start of your turn on the rink too.

“Can’t wait to get out there,” Yelena murmurs, eyes sparkling. You nod in agreement and crack your knuckles in anticipation.

Together, you walk over to the small gate in the side of the rink, joining the line with the rest of your team. Ten of you make up the competitive figure skating team, and all of you wear varying articles of black, thermal clothing. You’re in a pair of leggings, a long-sleeved thermal shirt, and a loose burgundy t-shirt, drifting over the top. The cold doesn’t bother you as much as it used to, but that’s only through the years you’ve spent gliding around at sub-zero temperatures.

You sigh happily as you inhale a breath of the frozen air that hangs crispy above the rink. You step onto the ice, closing your eyes as you skate forwards, your body supported effortlessly by the skates you wear so well.

There’s a line of bright red cones set out across the middle of the ice, sectioning off the hockey players from the rest of you. You smile to yourself as you risk a glance across the rink and take stock of a few of the players, huddled together, grunting and exchanging low words of irritation. They look very funny, wearing various layers of thick padding and helmets—less formal than they’d be at a match, but still dressed up enough to mean business. You feel them staring at you, glaring and bemoaning the fact they have to share the rink, but you let it brush off you like water.

“Y/N! Show me your cannonball. Weren’t you working on it?” Yelena’s back, skimming to rest beside you, plaited blonde hair hanging in two bunches either side of her face. You nod, pushing off and checking the ice is clear ahead of you before skating into a space.

Nothing beats the rush of adrenaline that comes with skating. You think that you’re addicted to it now. The charge of the nervous build-up, followed by the relief of the payoff never gets old. Your fears of failure get swept away the moment you sink into the ultra-focused headspace of an athlete, and the buzz of reward you get every time you land a move perfectly trumps the blood, sweat and tears that such an unforgiving sport has taken from you. You wouldn’t be able to quit skating, even if you wanted to.

A cannonball sit spin is one of the hardest spins in your repertoire, and the element that has been giving you the most grief in your show routine. This season, you’re competing in the national circuit for solo ice dance. It’s not your first time taking on the competition—in fact, consistently over the last few years, you’ve been ranking higher each time you compete. Last year you finished third, and so this year, your eyes are fixed very firmly on the prize. You know securing first place in the competition will attract the Olympic scouts’ attention, and that’s your greatest dream.

Moving quickly, you skate in a brief semi-circle to build momentum before getting low, resting on one leg as you stretch the other out in front of you. Your hands curve around the ankle of your extended leg, and you use the energy to carry you into a spin, the fresh air wafting off the ice and cooling your cheeks. It carries out for a few seconds, then you have to concentrate as you exit the manoeuvre, brows creasing as you continue to turn. You end in a standing spin, arms held out as you slowly bring them back into your sides and end elegantly with a little bow.

Yelena claps, cheering from across the ice. “Fuck, Y/N, that looks perfect now,” she calls out. “Wouldn’t ever be able to tell that it was causing you trouble— oh, look out!”

Your eyes are only just beginning to widen in response to her concern when you feel a very strong figure slam into you, hurtling at top speed and taking you both down onto the ice. You don��t need to see anything beyond a flash of white, orange and green to know that it’s a fucking hockey player, and the ache of getting thrown to the hard ground is quickly overcome by the anger that replaces everything else.

“Oh, shit,” you hear a gruff voice say.

You groan as you try to sit up, opening your eyes just to see that the player is crumpled on top of you. Your chest feels heavy from where he’s laying sprawled over you, and you glance down to look at his face, a scowl holding tight over your features.

Despite the helmet and the visor sticking over the top of his face, you’re able to make out a few details of the man. He seems to be around your age, his skin pale but flushed warm from the cold and such a vigorous practice. The brown depths of his eyes swell with concern and guilt, pairing nicely with the regretful smile that pangs across his thin pink lips. You get a peek at his brown hair sticking out from beneath his helmet, and can’t quite stop your eyes from catching on the hard line of his impressive jaw.

“You idiot,” you mutter, shaking off the daze that comes with admiring such a handsome stranger. “Did you even look where you were going before deciding you were going to try and kill me?”

The man’s eyebrows shoot up, his expression of concern burning into irritation as he scowls at you.

“Fucking hell,” he replies. His accent twangs prominently, cool and unyielding. “It was an accident, darling.”

You grunt, rapidly scooting back across the ice the moment he’s clambered off you. He sits across from you, brushing at the pads on his knees as he stares at you remorsefully. You can’t tell if he’s pouting at you or the shards of ice messing up his knees.

“An accident is brushing into someone, not slamming them onto the ice,” you mutter. Bitterness sweeps into your voice. “Twat.”

“Alright, alright.” He throws his hands into the air and leans closer. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

You draw your lips into a tight-lipped frown and look away, ignoring him as you try to stand, only to end up wincing as pain shoots up your bad ankle. “Fuck,” you whisper, your irritation growing stronger as you try to rotate your foot and feel the pain thicken.

Opposite you, the man clambers to his feet, getting his bearings on his skates before begrudgingly sliding up you. Your eyes take in his figure, running the lines of his stocky form. It’s always hard to tell what the guys look like beneath the padding and the helmets, but he doesn’t look as tall as you’d expected when he was laying on top of you. He’s smaller than the rest of them, but you have a suspicion he can probably move remarkably fast. How else would he have been able to take you out so easily?

He offers you a gloved hand, staring at you through cold eyes. “C’mon,” he urges, when you do nothing but stare at his palm. “Let me help you up. It’s the least I can do.”

You eye him suspiciously, but you know you won’t be able to get up without some assistance. A brief glance at your team around you suggests they’re all watching your exchange, intrigued. So, you swallow your pride, grit your teeth, and slip your hand into his glove, digging your skates into the ice as he helps you back to your feet. A short hiss of pain falls through your lips as your ankle throbs. When your leg threatens to buckle, the man moves in closer and grabs at your waist.

“Woah!” he exclaims, holding you up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you mutter, trying to steady yourself, “no thanks to you.”

You hear him release an exasperated sigh, and he lets you shake yourself free, but his hand drifts down to pull at your arm and hold you back when you try to skate off.

“What do you want?” you snap, tension in your voice. Beneath the visor, you can make out the guilt dusting his face, but you’re too focused on your recurring injury to pay it much mind.

“I’m sorry,” he tries. “I am.”

You pull your arm free again, and you hear a few hoots drift over from the other side of the rink. The word Dutchy rises louder, and you watch his expression twitch with irritation.

“Whatever,” you reply. You skate backwards, moving away from him, only relaxing when you feel one of your friends link her arm with yours. “Just forget about it.”

The hockey player looks as though he wants to argue with you, but when you harden your glare, he seems to let it go. He shoots you a very tight-lipped smile, mouth puffing a little with air, and then he picks up the discarded hockey stick and skates back to the other side of the rink. Your eyes briefly flutter over the bright text of Holland before he disappears, being enveloped back into the fold of raucous players as you sink into your friend’s side.

“Are you okay?” she whispers, touch far gentler than his had been.

You grimace, looking down at your ankle. “Yeah,” you reply, frowning sourly. Your eyes lift up across the rink, and you let yourself scowl. “Just pissed off.”

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Following the incident, and an incredibly bad skating practise, you find yourself reprimanded by your coach and put on bed rest for a few days so you can rest your ankle. It’s hard not to blame the distracted hockey player, but you know you probably had it coming. You’ve been walking the knife’s edge for several weeks with your injury, and as much as you hate to admit it, the time off is necessary.

The moment you’re allowed back on the ice, you’re there in a heartbeat. The training arena also operates as a commercial venue, and there are different slots available during the day for the general public to skate. After receiving the thumbs up from the team physiotherapist, you immediately turn up to one of the open slots available to the public, hoping to brush up on a few things before you rejoin your team in the morning.

For the first ten minutes of your practice, things go well. Your ankle is better for a few days off, and you’re able to sink back into your routine and get back to focusing on the gnarly parts that always throw you in a loop. It isn't too busy either, so there’s room to skate around and feel the air running over your face. It’s easy to get lost in it, your chest full of a lightness you’d spent the last few days bed-bound and dreaming of.

You take a break to drink some water after a while, leaning up against the barrier at the edge of the rink and bending over it to rummage through your bag. When you feel a presence behind you, you stand up, glancing back expecting to see a stranger, and feeling your eyes widen as instead, you recognise the man.

He looks very different without the shoulder pads and the rest of his ridiculous costume, but it’s him: Holland, the hockey player responsible for your skating ban. Still tall, and perched on hockey skates, but more relaxed. Like you, he’s wrapped up warmly, with a tight black thermal shirt curled around his arms, and another t-shirt resting over the top. His brown hair flies freely, bouncy and slightly curled, and his eyes are soft.

“Hi,” he says, biting at his thin lower lip. “Do you remember me?”

You frown as you skate to be in front of him, nodding slowly. “The guy that smashed me into the ice the other day?” you tease, voice cool. “Of course. How could I ever forget?”

You watch as his face darkens in shade, his eyes flickering down to your leg. “I’m, uh, Tom,” he leads with. “I saw you skating and I just wanted to see how you were doing… I haven’t seen you at practice in a few days, and I was, uh… sort of worried I’d seriously hurt you.”

Tom looks at you like he’s scared of you, and you have to bite back a smile as you wonder if you were too harsh on him the other day.

“Hmm.” You cross your arms over your chest and inspect him, gaze following how pronounced his biceps look, pushing up against his shirt. “Well, I was benched for a week.”

He curses softly, accented voice sounding out of place speaking such vulgarity.

“I’m sorry,” Tom says. He looks as though he means it, too. Shoulders sagged, eyes concerned, lower lip bitten red. “I promise, love, it wasn’t intentional. If I could go back in time and stop myself from behaving like such an inconsiderate twat, I would.”

You giggle slightly, unable to disguise the glee that comes with hearing him call himself a twat. You watch as his eyebrows arch up, confusion replacing his sincerity as he slowly crosses his arms over his chest. You’re still irritated by the situation, but you’re no longer incensed. It’s hard to harbour a grudge whilst he’s pouting so acutely.

“Well, Tom, I forgive you,” you say, voice lighter. He releases a deep breath, and you nod to affirm your point. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” Instinctively, you offer him a hand and find a shiver rolling down your back as his warm palm presses up against yours. Tom’s grip is firm and grounding, and his skin is a lot softer than you’d expected.

“Y/N is a nice name,” he says, voice perkier. His eyes seem more alive, and you don’t miss the way he takes in your form with an inquisitive gaze.

Your lips twist into a smirk. “I’ve already forgiven you, you can turn off the charm now.”

Tom shrugs, eyes glinting cheekily. “It’s not charm, darling,” he returns. “This is just who I am.” It seems to be true, too. He’s a lot bolder now the air between you has cleared, no longer looking like he wants to melt through the ice.

You snort loudly and feel your heart quicken when he smiles. “Well, Tom, what are you doing here?” You quirk an eyebrow. “Don’t you guys practice in the mornings?”

“Yeah,” Tom agrees. He breaks off as he looks over his shoulder and waves a hand at the near-deserted ice. “Coach said I need to work on my sprints, though, and it’s a lot easier to do that without the rest of the team hanging around.”

“Makes sense,” you say, deviously deciding you want to see how far you can push him. “You hockey guys are always so slow on the ice.”

Tom’s jaw drops, and you watch as he straightens up and stands a little taller. He meets the challenge directly, and you can’t deny it—it’s attractive. The way he squares his jaw, flares his nostrils and hardens his gaze is hot.

“Fuck you,” he says, voice light, “I’m definitely faster than you.”

You smirk. “As if,” you quip. You raise a hand, twirling a finger around in the lazy direction of the centre of the rink. “Show me what you’ve got. I might give you some pointers if I’m feeling nice.”

Tom releases a very loud laugh, the skin by his eyes crinkling into fine lines. “You’re hilarious, love,” he responds. “Like a figure skater is going to be able to teach me anything of importance.”

It’s your turn to laugh, and you cross your arms as you stand a little straighter. “That’s bold talk from someone who doesn’t look where he’s going,” you tease. You run a hand through your hair, eyeing him closely. “I could easily beat you in any skating-related activity, and I wouldn’t even break a sweat.”

Tom tilts his head to the side, seeming to feed into the idea of a challenge just as much as you. There’s something about him that fires you up the right way—a shared competitiveness that burns as brightly in you as it clearly does in him. It overpowers everything else, taking over, enticing you into letting go of any residual resentment and embracing the chance to beat him.

“How about we put your bragging to the test, darling?” he suggests, tongue tracing his lower lip. His eyes flutter around the curves of your mouth. “A few races, just to see who’s really better.”

You don’t hesitate to nod. “Sure, Tom,” you agree. “But don’t be too pissy when I beat you.”

There’s something endearingly irritating about how confident he is as he smirks at you and leans forward to briefly rest a hand on your shoulder. “Same to you, Y/N,” he responds. “I know it’s annoying to lose.”

You just shake your head, scoffing as you push away from him and move down to the end of the rink. He follows you, coming to a stop on his chunky skates beside you.

“First one to the other side wins,” you announce, reaching back to rest a hand on the barrier. You tilt your head and stare at him until he does the same. “Ready?”

“Mhmm.”

“3, 2, 1, go!”

It’s slightly ridiculous how badly you want to beat him, but there’s just something so infuriating about Tom. Your competitiveness burns in your chest, makes your blood boil and your hands clench into fists, and you find your eyes zeroing in on the opposite side of the rink as tunnel-vision encroaches. You block him and everything else out, your desire to win taking over as you swiftly launch across the ice, skates clipping the surface with metallic sounds as you sprint it. You don’t break—you don’t give up, slow down, or even turn back until you’re slamming into the barrier at the other side, turning around just in time to see Tom come in behind you, lagging about a second behind.

“Shit,” Tom mutters, grimacing.

You smirk. “Told you I’d beat you.”

Tom pulls a sour face, and it makes you giggle. “Best of three?” he offers. “C’mon, Y/N.” His elbow nudges against your side. “I’m still warming up.”

“Alright,” you agree. “But for the record, I still won.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tom mutters, shooting you a sly smile. “Just you wait.”

You win best of three skating forwards, but Tom manages to snag a victory when it comes to speed skating backwards. You can’t take the smirk of triumph on his face, so you offer up a third competition, yearning to prove yourself.

“Can you do an axel?” you ask. Your eyes drift down to his heavy hockey skates. “Or are your boots too chunky and annoying?”

Tom’s face twitches with doubt, but he’s quick to smooth it away. “Fuck yeah,” he states boldly. “I can do anything you can do.” If he doubts the truth of his words, he doesn’t let it show. “Just, uh… Show me how you do it first.”

You have the suspicion he can’t remember what an axel is, so you decide to oblige him.

“Alright,” you agree, boosting away from him. His eyes follow you, and their presence on your figure brings a hidden smile to your face. “Watch this.”

You perform the trick easily. An axel is the simplest of all the jumps, and it gives you no bother to glide forwards, leap into the air, do a swift, neat turn, then land on your back foot gracefully. You could probably do it with your eyes closed.

“There!” you announce, smile on your face.

Tom gulps nervously.

“Easy,” he says, voice slightly quieter. You cross your arms and watch, incredibly amused, to see how far he’ll take his act before giving up. Tom skates forward, confident in his movements, eyes focused, eyebrows furrowed. He takes his time, failing to do anything beyond skating in a straight line before he suddenly, jerkily, attempts the trick.

Time moves in slow motion. It’s with a combination of glee and horror that you watch him fail spectacularly, doing a rotation of approximately 180 degrees before slipping on the return to the rink and landing flat on the ice, groaning loudly. The few of the people sharing the rink with you look around, concerned, and you’re quick to skate over to him, biting your lip guiltily.

“Well,” you say, stopping in front of him. Tom’s still on the ice, arms crossed, glaring angrily at his skates. “I admire you for trying.”

His attention shifts up to you, and his scowl intensifies. “Whatever,” he mumbles. There’s an element of amusement in his eyes, and he takes your hand when you extend it out towards him. Tom’s heavy, but he springs up easily, his fingers tangled in yours and jerking you a little closer. “That was way harder than it looked.”

You hum, and then gulp as he drops your hand. He’s near to you, breath crystallising into a cloud of icy fog in front of you. Your eyes glide over the spray of brown freckles on his face before skimming down the curved line of his nose until you can admire his mouth.

“Well, it is a sport,” you say, voice a little tight. You clear your throat, shaking yourself from your funk as you realise you’re just staring at his lips. “Just like… Like hockey is a sport. I know we make fun of it, but I doubt me or anyone else on the team could play like you guys do.”

Tom seems to enjoy the praise, standing with a little more confidence as you finish speaking. He nods, then brings two slender fingers up to nimbly scratch at his chin.

“Have you ever tried it?” he asks.

“Not properly.”

Tom smirks. “Well, we need to change that. Go down the end, I’ll grab a net.”

You don’t know how he manages to convince the supervisors of the free skate to let the two of you set up an attack zone in the end segment of the rink, but you don’t question it. The sight of Tom reappearing, haphazardly balancing a net, a hockey stick, and a puck in his arms makes you smile, and you briefly think about how easy it's been for your resentment to melt away. There’s something about him that’s incredibly warm, and you don’t dispute the realisation that he’d probably make a good friend.

“Right,” Tom announces. He’s set up the net and shown you how to hold the plastic stick. Now, both of you are staring at the puck, black and stark against the scratched white ice. “Just hit it.”

You glance up at him, sceptical. “Surely there’s more to it than that.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t know what I’m working with until I see you take a hit at it, darling.”

You nod. The stick feels unfamiliar between your hands, but you’re determined to make a better show of it than Tom when he tried to do the axel. After staring at the small open area of the net, you grit your teeth and hit it, watching with widening eyes as the puck soars wide out to the left.

Tom cackles.

“Well… That was an attempt,” he says. His grin doesn’t falter at all, even when you turn around to glare at him.

“Teach me, then,” you quip, scrunching up your nose playfully.

Tom hums, and you watch as he briefly skates away after the puck. You can’t stop yourself from staring at him as he bends over, the bottom of his shirt briefly riding up and exposing the printed band of his boxers. The words Calvin Klein burn into the back of your eyes, still lingering there as he turns and skates back to you. You blink rapidly, shame burning at your face as you try to look more like you’re focused, and less like you can’t stop your eyes from gravitating towards his figure.

He drops the puck back on the ice, just in front of your stick. “Your angle was wrong,” Tom says. “Show me your hands again.” When you do as instructed, he frowns and shakes his head. “No, it’s… It’s more like, your top hand higher, and the lower more angled… Uh… No, no, no. Can I just touch you?”

“Okay,” you squeak, standing a little straighter.

Tom skates forward, resting behind you. He doesn’t hesitate to carefully wrap his arms around you from behind, slender fingers curling over your hands and repositioning them on the stick. You feel like you’ve been electrified—eyes wide, skin responding to his touch. His breath, warm and minty, wafts across the side of your face, and you realise you’re holding your breath.

“Yeah...just like that,” he coos, voice a little softer. He squeezes your hands before letting them go. “Give it another go.”

You swallow back your nerves as you nod, waiting until Tom’s drifted back to hit the puck. You can’t stop yourself from smiling when it goes sailing into the back of the net, and Tom lets out a loud hoot.

“Fuck yeah!” he exclaims, laughing gleefully. “Look at that!”

You glance back at him, enjoying the expression of pride that finds his features. “Pretty good, right?” you say, playing it cool.

“Spectacular, darling.” Tom’s nodding, face alight. “Let’s step it up a notch.”

He brings you through a few drills, and you find yourself enjoying the game despite your early blunder. Before you know it, there’s the sound of a buzzer ringing, signalling that there are five minutes left of your session together. Tom rises to the challenge, announcing that he wants to end by watching you skate at the goal and shoot a point whilst moving. You fail at your first three attempts, unable to coordinate moving the stick, the puck and yourself without something going askew.

“Show me again,” you whine, growing conscious of the timer ticking down.

Tom skates closer, gliding easily with his hands behind his back. His thin lips wear his smirk well.

“Just visualise it, darling,” he says. “Believe in yourself, and you’ll do it.” He pauses, eyes skimming over you. “I believe in you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

“Follow my line in.”

Tom skates backwards, beckoning you forwards with outstretched hands and a smile like you’re a toddler he’s teaching to walk. He leads your attack, mapping out your path before shifting out of the way just in time for you to successfully skate and hit the puck into the back of the net. His expression clears into relief, but as you start to celebrate, it’s quick to fall flat. You watch, eyes widening, as Tom gets distracted by you and drifts backwards into the goal, skates getting tangled in the netting. You lunge forward to try and catch him, only to make the situation a thousand times worse as you crash into him, grabbing at his shirt just as he manages to steady himself.

It feels like a cruel trick of fate. A repetition of the past, just, instead of Tom tackling you to the ground, it’s you that manages to slam him back onto the ice. It’s more comfortable this time around, though. For you. Tom’s chest is a lot warmer and softer than the ice.

“Fuck,” Tom groans. His face twists into an aching expression, then his eyes slowly blink open. As you make contact with his brown orbs, you’re surprised to see amusement shift across them. “Oh, how the tables have turned.”

You snort, taking stock of how muscly his front feels. You’re sprawled out completely over him, face suspended above his, Tom’s palms holding your waist. It’s intimate, especially when he reaches up with one hand and pushes your hair from your face so he can peer at you better. You can’t stop your eyes from going straight to his lips.

“S-sorry,” you stammer, voice breathless. You admire the way his hair is spread out around his head, bold against the ice like a halo. “I don’t know what happened.”

“‘S okay.” Tom’s quieter too. His gaze circles quickly between your eyes and your mouth. There’s something cockier about him, and you know the way you’re clinging to the front of his shirt has something to do with it. “I think you fell for me. Again.”

He’s leaning in. You start to do it, too, even go as far as to let your eyes drift close. He gets so close that you can almost feel the warm outline of his lips, brushing against yours, but then there’s the loud noise of a buzzer vibrating through the air. As the sound dies, it serves to signal the end of such a tender moment, as well as the end of the session.

You startle and push off him as you shoot him an apologetic grin.

“Sorry,” you say. You’re shaking a little, but you hope he puts it down to shock. You manage to clamber up and offer him your hands.

Tom accepts your help, and he groans as you help him up.

“It’s fine, Y/N,” he says, pausing to shake out his legs and slide forward. He swings your palms through the air, squeezing at your fingers as he very gently twirls you beneath his arm, then moves in nearer. “Accidents happen. I’m not surprised you wanted to be on top of me.”

All you can do is laugh and hope Tom can’t tell how he makes the base thrumming of your heart pick up.

“As if,” you return. You glance down at your intertwined fingers and feel your heart pang. “A hockey player? I could never.”

Tom just smiles, then squeezes your hands before letting them slip from his grasp. “Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs. He nudges your shoulder then shifts away, off in the direction of the net. “You know there’s no one that could give you as good a time as me.” He’s joking—it’s obvious in the cadence of his voice, the smile on his face. But why does it feel so layered?

“Ha ha,” you respond, skating over to him. When you notice him struggling, you dart forward and grab the net, slinging it over a shoulder. You glance back, arching an eyebrow as you decide to test the water. “I have had fun, though,” you add. “With you.”

Tom tilts his head to the side, ruffling up his hair with a hand. His smile lights up his entire face.

“Me too.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Almost a week passes, and though you don’t see Tom again, he’s certainly on your mind. You find yourself thinking about him all too much, considering he’s a hockey player, and it goes against the team ethos you’ve been surrounded by.

One day, after practice, you end up sitting on a bench outside the rink, waiting on Yelena as she finishes talking with one of your coaches. Bored and curious, you pull out your phone and decide to open Instagram. All around the arena are banners advertising the hockey team’s social media, and you find yourself drawn to the official account with a few easy taps. You start to scroll through the feed, eager eyes skimming over every face until you find the one you’re looking for.

It’s Tom, from last season, clutching the victory trophy in his hands as he’s held on his team’s shoulders. His face is animated, pulled wide in a large grin as he stares at the camera, the skin by his eyes pulled into smile lines. He’s tagged in it, so, curious, you click through and look at his profile. Unsurprisingly, it’s set to public, and you’re careful as you scroll down.

His photos are exactly what you’d expect—a collection of team photos, action shots, and gym selfies. Typical hockey player, but the longer you spend staring at one of his selfies, the cuter he seems to get. Trying to shake yourself out of the daze, you scroll back up, thumb absently wandering over to his Following list. Your eyes widen as you see your profile, at the very top of the accounts.

Tom follows you…?

Brows furrowing, you flip onto your own account, double-checking this new fact by typing out his username in your followers tab. He pops up, at the top, and you sit back, blinking.

Interesting.

After taking a brief moment to compose yourself, you go back to his profile and follow him. You start to flick through his story from the day. You get about halfway through when a shadow casts over your figure. You glance up, expecting to see Yelena, only to startle when it’s Tom.

“Hi,” he offers, raising a hand in greeting. You blink a few times in quick succession, glancing between your phone which shows a mirror selfie from him shirtless in the gym to where he’s now standing in front of you, burgundy hoodie on, flask in hand. You immediately turn your phone off.

“Oh, u-uh, hi,” you say, voice suddenly thick. He tilts his head to the side, an amused smile finding his lips as he sees you flustered. “What… What are you doing here?”

“I was in the gym,” he says, telling you information you already know. “Saw you down here on my way out, thought I’d say hi.” He rocks back on his feet, looking a little nervous. “I, uh… Keep thinking about last week. On the ice.”

“Oh?” Tom nods. He hesitates, and you realise he’s just awkwardly standing in front of you. “Wait,” you say, shuffling up the bench. “Sit.”

He perches on the wooden slats beside you, offering you his flask. “It’s hot chocolate,” he says, cheeks blushing slightly.

“After the gym?” you return, arching a brow.

Tom smiles. “Fuck yeah,” he says, pressing the flask into your hand. “It’s good, trust me. And, uh, I don’t have any germs or anything. I think.”

You snort, clicking the top open as you look at him over the brim. “Well, I wouldn’t mind catching anything from you,” you say, speaking before you have time to process the words.

Tom’s eyebrows soar up his forehead, a short chuckle leaving his lips as you hide your embarrassment behind the metal flask. The burn of revealing such a humiliating thought is quickly soothed away as you taste the deliciously sweet liquid.

“Well?” Tom coaxes, stretching an arm up as he scratches the back of his neck. His hoodie smells of fresh fabric conditioner. “Good, eh?”

Begrudgingly, you nod. “Yeah,” you say, shooting him a soft smile. Trying to move on the conversation, you return to what he’d said before sitting down. “Uh, what was that you said? About last week?”

Tom nods, seeming a little less apprehensive now to speak to you after your enthusiastic praise. “I was just thinking about how fun it was to skate around with you. It sort of made me regret not getting your number, darling.”

Your lips twitch slightly. “You can have my number if you want, Tom,” you say, speaking softly. His eyes are so pretty up close. “And I’d be down doing it again. I’m free every Wednesday afternoon.”

He nods his head, curls bouncing from the enthusiasm. You pass him back the flask, carefully angling your phone away from him as you unlock it, quickly exit from Instagram, then open up contacts. You watch him input his number, tongue between his lips as his brows furrow. He curses softly as he messes up the numbers and has to backspace a few times, and you have to focus hard on not letting your face betray how cute you find the whole interaction.

He’s cute.

“There you go,” Tom says, passing your phone back. He stands from the bench, tilting the flask towards you. “I’ve gotta go,” he adds. “Carpool. But, uh… See you tomorrow?”

You nod, biting back your smile. “Yeah,” you agree. “Sounds good.”

Before he leaves, Tom darts down to gently kiss your cheek, his lips lingering there for a moment before he springs back and walks away, waving as he goes. As his broad smile fades from sight, you find your hand drifting up, going to your cheek and touching the spot which tingles with the remnants of his kiss.

Swallowing back your nerves, you return your attention to your phone. You open your contact, clicking on Tom and opening up a text message. After a brief moment of contemplation, you decide to play it safe.

Y/N: hey x

A moment later, the notification changes from delivered to read, and the typing bubbles pop up. You shift on the bench, holding your breath.

Tom: hi xx

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

A few weeks pass, and it becomes a habit.

Despite already spending most of your days on the ice, you carve out another hour every Wednesday afternoon and dedicate it to Tom. Over time, he teaches you hockey, and you continue to give him pointers on his skating. After a while, you even manage to coach him through a jump. It’s easy with him. There are no expectations, no routines you need to nail. All you have to focus on when you’re with Tom is having fun—and also trying not to fall too deeply into the reserves of his deep brown eyes. Tom feels like a breath of fresh air—if the air also happens to be loaded full of charm, cheek, and wear an irresistible smile.

Halfway through the hockey league, you end up at the arena on a Saturday night, staying late with the rest of the figure skating team. Your competitive season begins in two weeks, so the team is in for outfit fittings, everyone split across the changing rooms at the arena. You’re competing solo this year, which grants you the rare position of having the freedom to design your dress—a privilege you’ve had a lot of fun with.

“It’s beautiful,” you gasp. “I can’t believe how nice it looks.”

You’re staring at a clothes mannequin, wearing the costume you’d spent hours conceptualising with the team’s designers. It’s a shade of red that perfectly compliments your skin, accented with silver and gold detailing in a beautiful pattern over the front. Gems glimmer and sparkle, and you can’t stop your eyes from tearing up as you look at an object of such beauty.

“Do you like it?” Standing beside the masterpiece, eyes nervous, is Jazzy, the lead costume designer. When you clasp your hands together and nod, she releases a deep sigh of relief. “Thank goodness,” she murmurs. “Let’s get you in it and start marking out the alterations.”

You feel a little bit like a doll, standing on a raised platform as you pull on your costume, but it’s worth the reward of seeing yourself in the dress. After slipping into it, you pull your hair back and pin it sloppily, so you’re able to admire the ensemble fully. You’re in tights, matched to your skin tone, and the tops of your thighs are covered by the red material. It floats down, and you run your fingertips over the hem of the velvety skirt as a smile finds your lips.

“Stunning,” Jazzy compliments. She passes you a tube of lipstick. “Try that one.”

You carefully smooth the shade over your lips, noting with enjoyment how the hue matches the bodice of the dress. As you stare at your reflection in the mirror, you release a breath. When you have your face painted and your hair done properly, you’ll look the part, and clinging to the image of what you’ll look like on competition days is enough to steady some of the nerves. Even if you mess up your routine, you’ll do it looking like you deserve to be there.

“I love it,” you say, releasing a breath. You reach up and pull your hair free, running a hand through it and ruffling it, so it sits normally. You do a small spin, smiling as the material drifts around the top of your legs. “You did an incredible job. Thank you so much.”

“Thank you for wearing it so well,” she returns, winking. “Let’s get a few more opinions.”

It isn’t long before the changing room is swarmed with the rest of your team, each one of them wearing garments in various stages of completion. The men are here too—four of them, combining with the five other women and yourself, bringing your team up to an even ten. Each season, your team puts forward various combinations of skaters for the duet, team, and solo events. You’re one of the only skaters competing solo this year—a decision your coach had made as she decided she wants no distractions for you as you try to reach Olympic level. The only other member of your team in a similar position is Tai, your lean, incredibly friendly male counterpart.

Tai saunters across the room, running a hand through his thick black hair. His outfit is deep purple and shimmery, and you wiggle your eyebrows as he does a little spin.

“Pretty sick, right?” he says, shaking a sleeve at you. “I look like Dionysus.”

“So cool,” you compliment. You do a small spin too, smiling widely. “What do you think?”

“Stunning,” Tai returns. He nods to affirm his point. “You’re going to kill it, Y/N. This is your year.”

You smile nervously. “I hope so,” you reply. You take a tight breath. “I really hope so.”

Before the conversation can continue, there’s the slamming of a door opening, followed by an approaching wall of noise—men, talking loudly, a few of them hollering. You raise an eyebrow towards Tai, who scowls.

“Saturday night,” he says. “The team are in the playoffs.”

“Wait, is it a home game?”

Tai nods. “Starts in twenty,” he says. His frown intensifies. “They’re so loud. Idiots.”

You watch from your position on the dressing podium as flashes of white, green and orange pass by the open door. It’s the hockey team, alongside their coaches and their managers. They walk determinedly in the direction of the hockey changing room where you presume they’re going for a pre-game pep talk. You can’t stop yourself from scanning the crowds, looking for Tom. When you fail to seek him out, you feel your heart pang sadly in your chest.

“Y/N?” Tai’s looking at you, amused. “Are you okay?”

You swallow, then nod. “Yeah,” you mutter. “Just tired.”

He hums, eyes wide and sympathetic. “Me too. It’s been a busy week, hasn’t it?”

It’s easy to agree. At this point in the season, with so few weeks to go before the competition begins, you’re at the rink every day.

“Absolutely.”

You stifle a yawn. Your eyes flutter back across the changing room, and you see your tired sentiments seem to be shared by the rest of the team. As they slowly start to leave the room, it grows quieter. Tai drifts away, lingering in the corner and talking with Jazzy and Yelena. It isn’t long until you’re the only four people remaining. You spend a few moments taking photos of your fit in the mirror, trying to get in all the angles so you can send them to your family and fuel their excitement about the season. Your actions are interrupted only when there’s a tender knock on the door, and you glance up towards the entrance to see a bulky, padded figure. Tom.

“Uh, hello? The hockey room is across the corridor,” Yelena says, crossing her arms over her chest.

Tom isn’t in his helmet, but he is perched tall on his skates. You’re able to watch as his face twitches with annoyance. He offers a tight smile to Yelena before glancing straight at you, raising a teasing brow.

Chest feeling tight, you step forward, padding quietly towards the door. Your friends are all looking at you, but you’re more preoccupied with Tom and the way his eyes seem to glint as they take you in your form. There’s a small swagger to your step as you watch him shift from leg to leg, his cheeks warm and red, eyes full of appreciation as they stick on the curves of your hips, chest, and then your lips. Your suit is tight, and it brings you enjoyment to watch him admire you. He clears his throat as you fall to a stop in front of him.

“Hey,” you say, voice quiet, perplexed. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a game?”

Tom nods. “Yeah,” he says. His tone is darker, and it catches slightly. “I, uh… I wanted to see you.”

You bite your lip, standing a little straighter. “Oh.” You can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Well… Do you like it?” You toy with the hem of your skirt. “It’s my outfit for the competition circuit.”

“Give me a spin, darling.”

You oblige him, feeling slightly giddy as you do yet another rotation. You hear him hum, and when you fall to a stop in front of him again, you’re closer.

“Beautiful.” Tom rubs together his hands, slender fingers gloveless and unaffected by the imminent game. He rocks back on his skates, clicking his tongue as he looks a little apprehensive. “I, uh… I was thinking about what you said last week about never going to a hockey game before.” He pauses to dig through one of his deep pockets, pulling out a few pieces of paper. He offers them to you tentatively. “If you want, I have some spare tickets for tonight’s game. Pretty good seats. My family normally use them, but they’re busy tonight, so…?”

It’s with a mix of shock and gratitude that you nod your head immediately, reaching out to take the tickets. “I’d love to, Tom,” you murmur. “Thank you.”

He grins, face lighting up. “Perfect,” he returns. “Maybe you’ll be my lucky charm.”

Your teeth graze your lower lip, and you smile. “I hope so.”

Tom opens his mouth as if to say more, but then there’s a holler from further down the corridor.

“Dutchy! Five minutes! Hurry up!”

He grimaces, rolling his eyes. “Well, that’s me.”

“Dutchy?” you question.

Tom shrugs, then turns around and extends his thumb over his back to gesture at his jersey. “Holland,” he says. He turns back to look at you, grinning. “Just a nickname.”

You coo. “That’s cute.”

Tom licks his lip. “‘S not the only thing that’s cute.” You barely have time to respond before he’s leaning forward to quickly kiss your cheek. “Have fun!” he says, already on his way down the corridor.

“Good luck!” you return. You can almost feel the ghost of his touch, resting on your face so perfectly.

Tom turns, right at the end of the corridor, and he winks. You don’t realise how tightly you’re holding yourself until he disappears, and your lovestruck muscles unravel.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

It’s hard to explain to Tai and Yelena the relationship you have with Tom, so you just give up after a while. They accompany you to the arena. You manage to change your dress for something more casual, deciding to keep the red lipstick on. Tom’s seats are at the end of the rink, positioned mid-way up the stands. They give you a clear view across the ice.

The atmosphere is electric. You’re surrounded by the home crowd, decked out in replica jerseys, printed scarves, and hats that have Kingston Kites printed all over them. It’s a sea of white, green, and orange, and you can’t stop yourself from slipping out during the first break to buy yourself a scarf—just to support the team, and Tom. The teasing you receive from your friends when you reappear is hard to ignore but mellows out when you procure a bag of Maltesers you’d also bought from the stand.

And Tom… Tom.

Tom’s incredible. You can’t keep your eyes off him. The silhouette of his padded figure feels like it’s burnt to your memory. When he’s on the ice, he’s magnificent, commanding the space well, grunting and spinning as he plays. When he’s waiting for his turn on the bench with his team, he’s focused and calm. His eyes are sharp and intense, glinting almost black beneath the harsh rink lighting as they follow the puck across the ice. You find yourself admiring everything about him��watching the way his cheeks are flushed a rosy red, his jawline sharp and fierce. He’s on fire, passion rolling off every part of him, and, quite honestly, it’s incredibly attractive.

Tom’s explained the basic rules of hockey to you a few times, but there’s a stark difference between him telling you, quietly, how line rotations work and actually seeing them in action on a scale like this. The players swap out every minute, only staying on the ice for a short burst of energy as they chase the puck around. Tom, holding the loose position of centre forward, goes wherever needed, carving up the ice like it’s his one task in life. You’re high in the stands, but even from so far, you’re able to see the determination and the passion burning in his eyes.

The game is brutal. By the time it reaches the third and final twenty-minute segment, the score is tied 2-2. You watch, on tenterhooks, as Tom jumps the barrier on the side of the rink, swapping in for one of the players and taking his spot on the ice.

He’s antsy, as are the rest of the team. You know it’s an important match, and if they want a chance at continuing to the next stage of the competition, they need the result to swing in their favour. Your eyes are wide, fingers curled into fists as you watch Tom cut up the ice. The helmet on his head protects his skull, but you can make out a few strands of dark brown hair sticking out, and you find yourself struck with the very prominent and aching thought that you’d quite like to play with it.

The puck ends up at your end of the rink, and the Kingston Kites take on a defensive strategy as their opponents try to put pressure on the goalie and get in another shot. You find your eyes trained directly on Tom and startle as you catch him looking up at you. Through panting breaths, his lips quirk into a brief, tight smile of recognition, but then it sours as his eyes slip beside you and look at Tai. Your friend is sitting to your right, his arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders, and you’re casually leaning into his side. It’s entirely platonic, but you don’t miss the way Tom’s eyebrows shoot up as his gaze hardens and his jaw sets with determination.

The whole interaction lasts less than a second, but as Tom refocuses on the game and hurtles after the puck, he seems more aggravated. You sit forward, gaining a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as you shrug off Tai and stare at Tom. Your eyes follow him as he goes in hard, trying to wrestle the puck out from beneath his opponent’s stick. It looks to be a bit of a mess, and you hear everyone in your section gasp as Tom roughly elbows the other guy. He goes spinning with a yelp, and the referee blows on the whistle, pausing the game. There are a few yells of ‘Dutchy’, coupled with disgruntled hollering from the people around you as they question the referee’s decision to pause.

“Fucking hell,” Yelena murmurs, leaning forward on her elbows and staring across the ice. “Your guy is crazy.”

You suck in a breath, watching as the referee points at the penalty box and Tom stomps towards it. You can almost see the frustrated steam pouring from his ears.

“He’s… passionate.” You bite your lip. Somehow, you feel responsible for his outburst.

“Shit,” Tai mutters. He too leans forward, until all three of you are sitting there, elbows on your knees, staring at the penalty box. “That’s kind of hot.”

Your throat feels dry as you watch Tom throw his stick on the ground of the penalty box. Given all the walls are made of plastic, you have an unobstructed view as he pulls off his helmet and tosses it on a seat too. He marches a few paces up and down, speaking angrily to himself, his expression one of pure irritation. When he finally sits down, he runs a gloved hand through his hair, pushing away the sweaty strands that stick so deliciously to the top of his flushed forehead. You watch, your breath light and shallow, as Tom jerks off the glove and shoves his fingers into his mouth, pulling out his mouthguard before picking up a bottle and squirting a long stream of water into his open mouth.

“Fuck,” you murmur, eyes transfixed. There’s a heat in the pit of your stomach, building as you take in the way Tom’s glowing with a mix of exertion and anger. The match is continuing back on the ice, but you can’t stop looking at the hot flush of his cheeks and the angry lines of his flexed brows and curved jaw. “It is.”

A minute passes, and Tom slowly seems to chill out. It’s only as the seconds fall down into the 30s that he finally seems to release his tension, fixing his mouthguard, and his glove before glancing up at the stands. You’re surprised when, again, he looks directly at you, his entire demeanour shifting when he sees the concern in your eyes. His features soften, lips losing their angry frown and mellowing into a warmer smile, and you watch as his gaze grows fonder.

Yelena hits at your knee immediately. “He’s in love with you,” she announces, certainty in her voice.

You can’t stop looking at Tom, not even when he breaks contact with a wink and shoves his helmet back on.

“Shut up,” you murmur. “He’s not. We’re just friends.”

Tai cackles. “Fuck off,” he says. “Yelena’s right. Friends don’t look at each other like that.”

You sit up, glaring at him. “Like what?”

He smirks. “Like you want to jump each other.”

It’s hard to dispute that one, so instead, you just cross your arms over your chest and stare back at the ice. “You’re wrong, but okay.”

Yelena nudges your side. “There’s only one way to find out.”

“Hmm?”

“Stay behind after the match and ask him.”

You swallow nervously, briefly looking at her. “But what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not,” she promises. “But… If I am, I’ll let you style my hair for the rest of the season.”

Your eyes light up, and the way that Yelena smirks, you can tell she knows the offer is too good to refuse.

“Fine,” you agree. Your eyes shift back to Tom, watching as he vaults back over the barrier and joins his team. Apparently they’ve forgiven him for the penalty, as he’s welcomed back with firm pats on the back, and you can see his blinding smile from across the rink. “I’ll do it.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

The Kingston Kites win the match, and the arena is quick to empty. You part ways with your friends as they head home and you end up wandering the changing rooms as you try to hype yourself up. There’s a text from Tom waiting on your phone, simply asking how you’d liked the game, so you respond and tell him that you’d much rather go over it in person. After agreeing to meet him outside his locker room, it’s just a waiting game.

You reapply your lipstick and mess around with your hair to kill the time. It’s a little eerie being alone in the skating changing rooms, and as time passes, you hear fewer people hovering around the arena as the players slowly leave the building. It’s hard not to get stuck in your head as you think about your plan to confess your feelings, so you end up pacing in the long corridor that winds between the skating changing rooms and the hockey locker room.

The corridor is bright white and decorated with various sporting memorabilia. Autographed jerseys, shining medals, and printed photographs hang framed on the walls. On your side of the corridor, you catch glimpses of yourself, wearing a tracksuit and hugging your friends, showing off your medals, mid-action on the ice… It makes you proud to see that your team has placed you so frequently in the collage, and you feel a swell of bittersweet gratitude in your chest as you look at snapshots of competitions gone by.

On the other side of the corridor is a similar spread for the hockey team. You stroke at your chin as you examine this season’s photos, skimming your eyes over the group shot and trying to spot the people that you know. When you see Tom, dead centre, grinning widely, it makes you smile.

“—I’m just saying, Dutch, something was going on with you tonight. It can’t happen again. We can’t have you losing focus at this stage in the competition.”

The sound of a gruff voice drifting up the corridor makes you startle, and you glance down to see two figures emerging from the locker room—Tom, and one of his coaches. Tom has traded his gear for a pair of blue jeans and a loose black hoodie, and you watch as he nods and looks at his coach with wide-eyed respect.

“Of course, Spike,” he responds, voice clear, open. “It won’t.”

You watch as Spike sighs, then gives Tom a hearty pat on the shoulder. “Good lad.” He walks back, then makes the okay sign with his fingers. “Your final goal was phenomenal, though. More of that next game, and less time in the penalty box. Got it?”

“Yes, coach.”

“Good. See you tomorrow.”

Tom grunts and the two separate. You watch as he tugs on the front strings of his backpack before turning, his face lighting up as he spots you, leaning against the wall. He quickly strides towards you, footsteps echoing against the cold passage.

“Hey,” Tom calls out, voice bouncing down the hall.

There’s an uncontrollable smile on your face as you stand up and walk to meet him halfway. Tom instinctively wraps you in a hug, lips catching on your cheek when he pulls away.

“Hi,” you reply, voice shy. Tom smells of shower gel and mint, his curls a little damp and darker than usual. “Congrats on the win.”

Tom smirks, nodding as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Thanks, love. Did you enjoy it?”

You release a short laugh. If enjoyment equates to found it incredibly erotic, then, of course, the answer is,

“Yes. Loved it.” You tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Did you get in trouble for the penalty box?”

He winces, grimacing at you with his teeth glinting. “A bit,” he admits. “Doesn’t matter though, ‘cos I scored a goal after. I just need to, um… Not do it again.”

The air between you is thicker, and you find yourself swallowing as you note the way Tom’s looking at you, eyes hungry.

“What happened?” You say, testing the waters tentatively. “You seemed fine, and then you got… Fired up.”

Tom swallows. “I… Just got tetchy.” He clears his throat. “Who, uh… Who were you at the match with?”

You smirk, realising that your hypothesis was right. “My friends. Yelena and Tai. They’re on the team with me.”

“Friends?” Tom confirms, expression perking up.

“Yeah. Friends.”

He steps closer. “Did they like the game?” he asks.

“Yeah. They thought you were hot.”

Tom chuckles, briefly glancing at the floor before drawing his eyes back to you. They linger on your lips, and your breath hitches as he tentatively, testingly reaches out and places his hands on your hips. When you sink into it, he grows bolder, pulling you closer until your faces are near. You love the way his hands feel as they rest on your waist.

“Did you?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you think I was hot?”

It’s hard to concentrate when Tom’s standing so close to you, looking at you with his eyes so intense, but somehow you manage to wrap your arms around his neck and nod. “Yeah,” you admit. You toy with his curls, giving them a short tug when he groans enjoyably. “I always think you’re hot.”

Tom wears his smirk so well that it’s almost infuriating.

“Do you want to know a secret?” he asks, fingers softly caressing your sides. When you squeak out a noise of affirmation, Tom lets his nose brush up against yours. He swallows deeply, nervousness mixing with his teasing. “I think you’re stunning, too. All the time, but especially tonight, when you were sitting up there, wearing a team scarf and watching me play.”

“Oh,” you murmur. It’s hard to maintain eye contact with him when there’s so much going on in the depths of his gaze that it dizzies you. “Thank you.” Growing a little bolder, you let your fingers glide up, tangling in the ends of his hair. “It was fun watching you play. You’re really talented, Tom.”

His nose is still cold against yours, and you let your eyes fall shut as he slowly traces patterns over your sides.

“Thanks, darling.”

Instinctively, and embarrassingly, you feel a shiver roll down your spine as the pet name falls from his lips. Usually, you’d be able to play it off from the cold, or like you’re stretching a muscle, but he’s holding you so close that you’re sure he felt it.

“Tom,” you say, voice hushed. You feel safe in his arms, you feel loved in his arms, but your skin is still crawling with built-up desire. There’s an ache in your chest that burns brighter with each second he lingers so close, but yet remains so far. “Do you want to…”

“What, sweetheart?”

Again, your breath catches. You hear Tom release a small chuckle, and then, after a final moment, his lips fill in the small gap between you both. You sink into it immediately, heart rejoicing as his lips, warm and slightly chapped, explore your own.

It’s a little fumbly, and it takes a few moments for you to learn the slopes of his face so intimately, but once you’ve both readjusted and altered your positions, it’s quick to heat up. Tom’s fingers grip your waist tighter, mouth pressing to yours with more hunger as you wind your fingers into his hair and sigh. Between gasped breaths and soft sounds of enjoyment, you feel him slip his tongue along your lower lip, and so you open your mouth a little wider.

You end up against the cool brick wall, making out like you’re both teenagers again. The exhilarating butterflies twirling in your stomach match the memories, too. You moan softly as Tom pulls away from your mouth, his attention shifting to your neck. As you tilt your head to the side and open up your throat to him, you whimper as you feel his lips drag over your exposed skin. He nibbles and suckles until he finds the sensitive part that makes you cry out.

“Fuck,” you whimper. You tug on his air-dried curls, coaxing him back up to your lips so you can enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours. Tom sighs, and you can feel him smiling into it.

There are noises, coming from further down the hall, and when they increase in volume, Tom reluctantly pulls back from your mouth. He links your hands together and swings them through the air, looking up to meet your eyes. His face is cute, lips puffy and red, eyes dancing with hope.

“D’you want to—”

“Oi, Dutchy!”

You jump as a holler comes from down the hall, echoing off the vast brick walls. Tom’s expression shifts, his lips pursing as he glances down the corridor. He turns away from you to yell back.

“What?”

You think it’s Osterfield, one of Tom’s friends. He too is dressed casually, standing tall with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

“We’re going out! Don’s got us the VIP section down at the Grove. C’mon!”

Tom looks torn, a ripe line carved out between his brows. He glances back at you, biting his lower lip.

“Go,” you urge, smiling softly. “Celebrate with your team.”

He frowns slightly. “Come with us?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No, it should just be you guys.” As much as you like Tom, you can’t think of anything worse than going on a night out with the entire loud, boisterous hockey team. You smile encouragingly when you see the turmoil in his eyes. “You deserve it.”

“Are you sure? Because I can stay here, and we can—”

You lean up, moving your hands back down to his shoulders as you kiss him very softly. “Go,” you urge, whispering against his thin lips.

Tom leans into you, keeping your lips pressed until you can feel him smiling into it. He begrudgingly steps back. “Thank you,” he says, “for coming to the game. And being so lovely.” His lips quirk a little taller. “And for letting me kiss you.”

“Well, it didn’t take much convincing.” You cross your arms over your chest and lean back against the wall, your figure feeling colder without Tom’s touch. His eyes run the lines of your face, gaze warm and comforting.

“Have a nice night,” he says. There’s still hesitation on his face, so you step forward and kiss his cheek before gently pushing his shoulder.

“You too” you respond. Tom finally walks away, but only after shooting you a wink.

You lean back against the wall, pulling out your phone and staring at the blank screen as you discreetly keep your focus on Tom. When he reaches the end of the corridor, Osterfield thumps him on the back and murmurs something unintelligible which earns him a shove into the doorway as the two friends leave together. Tom glances back just before disappearing, and you smile at him as he waves his hand playfully.

Once alone, you release a tight sigh of contentment. You deflate, sagging against the wall as you feel your heart beating faster in your chest. Absently, one of your hands drifts up, fingertips resting on the outline of your lips. Your mouth is still warm from Tom’s kisses, and your heart feels a little softer, too.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

You don’t see him for a while, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t constantly on your mind. At some point, Tom adds you to his private Instagram story, and it feels like a gentle confirmation that he feels the same way as you. You stay in constant contact, and he starts to send you more memes and silly texts each evening. The smile on your lips barely fades, and every time your phone lights up with a new text from him, you get excited.

Unfortunately, the high doesn’t last forever. All too soon, it’s a week before your first competition, and the good feeling finally goes away. As extended practices cut into your life, you’re left frazzled and stressed, trying to balance your team’s expectations against your own personal competitiveness. It doesn’t help that your ankle is giving you grief again.

“No, no, no. You’re better than this, Y/N! Stop cutting the spin too early. You have to extend it into the end of the beat!”

It’s a Thursday morning, and you’re exhausted. The bags beneath your eyes hang heavy, and every manoeuvre you try to execute just seems to leave you worse than before. You’re cold on the ice, and your bones are chilled from fatigue and stress. Everything aches, and try as you might, you can’t land the final ten seconds of your routine. Your coach has forced you to go over it again and again, minutes blurring to hours as your frustration festers.

“It’s not working,” you call back, reaching up to tug on your hair. Your coach is leaning against the rink barrier, resting on her elbows as she watches you, pursed lips.

“Do it again,” she encourages. “Faster!”

You grit your teeth, skating back into the centre of the ice. The music starts again, and you run through the entire final section, nailing the parts that you know. Yet, as you reach the big finish, you falter. You end up flat on the ice, frustrated tears burning your eyes as your ankle throbs. As the track cuts out again, you hear your coach’s loud sigh, carrying across the ice.

“Pack it in. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

You grimace as you climb back to your feet, wincing slightly.

“I can do it again,” you call back, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You want to. You have to.

Your coach shakes her head, lips set in a firm line. “You can’t,” she responds. “You’re worn out and making mistakes. Your injury won’t sustain you.” She pauses to shake her head. “This isn’t what any of us want, Y/N, but you need to rest.”

Your fingernails dig into your palms as you grit your teeth. “But—”

“No. Go home.” Your coach pushes off from the barrier, shaking her head. When you fail to move, she turns back, arching a brow. “Go.”

A string of irritated cuss words falls quietly from your lips as you reluctantly skate from the centre of the rink. Your fingers go to your cheeks, wiping away the cool tears that fall from frustration. It’s a private session, but a few of your team are hanging around. Their sympathetic smiles and gentle arm pats make you bristle, and you’re silently seething as you stomp over to one of the benches and throw yourself onto it, groaning.

You lie down and stare at the ceiling for a while, trying to focus on your breathing. It’s just one bad training session. You’ve landed the end section of your routine plenty of times before. It’s just a bad day.

…But it’s also a bad day, one week before the first rounds of competitions, where a performance like the one you just gave would have you finishing in last place, your Olympic dreams crumbling to pieces.

You close your eyes, clenching your hands into fists as you stretch out over the bench. Your teammates know to give you space, so you aren’t sure why you feel a shadow falling across your face. You ignore it for a few moments, putting it down to someone unknown peering at you fleetingly, but when it persists, you pry an angry eye open.

“What— Tom?”

For the second time, you find yourself surprised by his presence. Tom is standing beside your bench, swallowed by a deep green hoodie with a blue denim jacket pulled over the top of it. In his hands are a stack of papers and his eyes are full of concern.

“Hi,” Tom says quietly, looking a little embarrassed. His cheeks are dusted light pink. You wonder how long he’s been staring at you for. “Are you okay? I, uh… I saw the end of your training.”

You feel rigid and breakable as his eyes pool with warmth, his gaze like tender sunbeams. When he steps closer and presses a gentle hand to your shoulder, your stress bubbles over. As you bring your knees to your chest, you press the side of your face into them, blinking up at him as a few tears skate down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs, cooing softly. “Don’t cry, darling.”

Tom gently coaxes you up the bench and sits behind you, throwing a leg either side of the wood to straddle it. You let him pull you back into him, his arms feeling warm and strong as he hugs you tightly from behind. He burrows his face into your neck, warm hands going up to cup your cheeks as his fingertips carefully flick your tears away.

“I’m not sad,” you murmur, swallowing back another wave of tears. “I’m just annoyed.”

“I know.” Tom pauses, and you take a moment to breathe in the scent of fresh laundry. “It’s the most frustrating thing in the world when you can’t get something right. But if you work yourself into the ground, you won’t ever be able to do it.”

“But- but what if I want to work myself into the ground,” you mutter, causing him to chuckle.

“Then you’d be silly.” Tom kisses your cheek, his lips warm and light. “And you’re not silly. You’re the strongest athlete that I know, Y/N. You just need to let other people look after you. Let… Let me look after you.”

Your breath hitches and slowly, you pull your face away from your knees. You stretch your legs out in front of you and turn to look at Tom, curiosity in your gaze as you think about how close he’s holding you, and how passionately he’s speaking to you.

“Thank you,” you say, voice quiet. A shy smile curls across your lips.

Tom hums. His hands fall down to your shoulders, and he gently squeezes your arms. “Go have a shower,” he says. “You’ll feel better, and then I’ll look after you some more.”

You reach out, fingers twirling around the strings of his hoodie. “You’re too nice to me,” you murmur, shyly ducking away from his gaze. “How are you so perfect?”

He laughs, the sound so ripe and joyful that it brings warmth back to your chest.

“I’m not,” Tom disputes. “I just care about you.”

You hum, and before you can lose your cool, you lean in and softly kiss him. Tom’s still for a moment, but then he pushes closer, gently and delicately kissing you back. His hands swoop down to hold your waist, lightly stroking over your sides. When you pull away a few moments later, you feel steadier.

“Hmm,” you say, mind running slow, ensnared by the glimmers of warmth in his eyes. “I like kissing you.”

Tom chuckles, nose brushing yours. “I like kissing you too.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

It turns out that Tom’s right—you do feel better after having a shower. As you find yourself in the deserted skating changing rooms, the sight of your troubles being swirled away down the plughole releases a large part of your stress. The hot water coaxes your good mood back, and it continues, even when you have to wrap up your ankle again.

By the time Tom reappears, knocking gently on the changing room door before entering, you feel better. You’ve changed clothes, washed your hair, cleansed yourself of all the bad energy that had clogged you up. You feel like you again.

“I got this for you,” Tom announces. He holds a disposable cup in his hand and presents it to you with a grin. “Hot chocolate, for m’lady.”

You roll your eyes as you accept it, looking up at him with gratitude warming your chest. “Thanks, Tom.”

He glances down, eyes taking in your form. You’re again stretched out on a bench, one of your legs bent at the knee, the other laying out in front of you. A few bandages hang around, and Tom looks at them curiously.

“How’s your ankle?” he asks, chewing on his lower lip as he stares at your fluffy sock.

“It’s okay,” you reply. “I braced it. Should be alright as long as I take it easy.”

Tom nods, then very slowly walks to the end of the bench. He runs his index finger down the bottom of your leg, his touch light but warm. You’re in a skirt, your legs bare and exposed, and as you take in the mischievous glint in his eye, you wonder what he has in mind.

“Y/N,” Tom starts, voice gentle. His fingertips play around with the top of your sock as he looks up at you from beneath his lashes. “Can I kiss it better?”

You’re breathing a little lighter as you look at him. “Yeah,” you agree. “Go ahead.”

Tom kneels on the floor, settling beside the bench with ease. With gentle fingers, he rolls down the top of your sock, just far enough so he’s able to leave a very soft kiss to your tender skin. He doesn’t linger there too long, his eyes fixed to your face, but his lips don’t leave you, either. Very carefully, taking his time, Tom starts to drop kisses to your skin. He gradually works his way further up your leg, dusting warm, open-mouthed kisses from your ankle to your shin, then your knee.

You shift on the bench as Tom starts to come higher, one of your hands drifting down to rest in his curls. You put the disposable cup on the floor as you watch him. There’s a heat slowly building in the pit of your stomach, and with each meeting of your flesh and Tom’s mouth, it grows more pronounced. It isn’t long before you’re parting your legs, his lips pausing at the bottom of your thigh as he changes from light kisses to deeper, needier sucks. A short whimper travels from your mouth, wobbling into the air as his lips draw the blood to the surface of your skin.

“You’re so pretty,” Tom murmurs, looking up at you from the ground. His eyes are wide, darkened with lust. He splays his hand along your neglected thigh, rubbing gentle circles to the skin. You whimper when he drops his tongue to lap over one of the marks he’s pulled to the surface of your skin. “Do you want me to go any higher?” His voice is raspy.

The space between your legs is throbbing, and immediately you nod. “The, uh, the door,” you murmur, voice shaking. Tom presses a final kiss to your inner thigh before standing up. He winks at you before jogging to the changing room door, easily flicking the lock, then coming back towards you. “Are you, um… Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Tom grins. He sinks down to his knees beside your head, his hands tugging the bottom of your legs. You sit up on the edge of the bench and turn as your thighs open over his shoulders. Tom kneels between them, his bed of brown curls complementing your skin tone nicely. He presses a kiss to your neglected leg before his hands carefully skim up to play with the hem of your skirt.

“I wouldn’t mind one bit,” he replies, his voice a little darker. He tilts his head as he meets your gaze, smirking softly. “I’d really like to. Do you want to know a secret, darling?” Tom’s fingers slide up, his index and his middle making contact with the front of your panties. As he traces delicately over the front of your core, small arcs of pleasure roll out from your centre. The way his lips twitch taller makes you wonder if he can feel the way your cunt seems to throb.

“Yeah,” you respond, voice light. A whimper passes through your lips as Tom applies a little more pressure to your covered clit, your hips gyrating down to meet his fingertips in response.

He pulls back, only to push your skirt out of the way, tutting quietly when you mewl.

“Been wondering what you’d taste like for ages, love,” he coos. He uses his grip on your thighs to pull you closer, and you moan when he buries his head between your legs. Your panties are still on, but that doesn't stop Tom from nosing up against your slit, hot breath fanning out across your warmth. When he draws his tongue over the front of your panties, you release a breathless whine. “Bet it tastes as pretty as you are.”

You reach down and bury your hand back into his curls, pulling Tom closer as he ghosts his tongue over the front of your panties. He’s lapping lightly up your slit, the pleasure muted but still there, and your eyes fall shut as the muscles in your thighs tense.

“Fuck, Tom,” you whine, feeling your cunt pulse. “Take them off. I need more.”

His nimble fingers are quick to follow your instructions, and as soon as your hips are falling back to the bench, his mouth is on you. You cry out as you finally feel him, the pleasure direct and far greater than you’d expected. Tom devours you, using both of his thumbs to press your lips apart as his tongue travels all over your heat. He spends a while focusing on your clit, the tip of his tongue firm and unrelenting, but when you start to whine a little louder, he teases you by drawing away. He flattens his tongue and licks a few broad strokes up your centre, moaning against you until you’re fisting at his hair and shaking.

“Fuck,” you whine, voice barely there. “Feels so good.”

Tom’s complete attention is on you and your eyes roll back when he teases your entrance with his mouth. One of his thumbs rolls up to toy with your clit as he pushes his tongue into you, your walls throbbing as he explores you. You push him deeper, obscenities mixing with slurred acclamations of his name, and it’s as though you can feel your pulse hammering in your head.

“Knew it. Tastes like fucking heaven,” Tom murmurs, pulling away from your entrance to shoot you a smirking smile. He brings two fingers to your pussy and teases you there, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead when you moan and rut down against them, taking agency and fulfilling your desires. “Shit, baby. You’re so wet.” He fucks your heat, eyes moving off your face and fixing on the mess between your legs as he coos. “I can feel you clenching around my fingers. Does that feel good?”

“Yeah,” you whine. When Tom drops his head and wraps his lips back around your clit, you cry out. “Getting so close,” you say, words tangling together as your chest heaves. You feel so hot, your body trembling as your edge hangs in sight. “Keep going, f-fuck, Tom. You’re so good.”

He adds a third finger to your heat, and your jaw slackens. Tom changes the angle of his digits a few times before curling them just right, and he continues to stroke up against your g-spot as you cry out. You stammer out a few words of warning, and he moans in response. The vibrations of the sound coupled with the way his tongue is applying the perfect amount of warm, sloppy pressure to your clit push you over the edge. As you peak, you fall back onto your elbows, tightening your grip on his hair as your pussy throbs, taking wave after wave of pleasure as it rocks across you and smothers you.

Tom doesn’t stop until you’ve ridden it out completely and you’re sensitive. With a push at his hair, you coax him away, still trying to gather yourself as your throat feels dry. The expression of cocky fulfilment hanging from his lips makes you shiver, and you almost moan again as you take in the sight of his chin, glistening with your arousal.

“How was that?” he asks, cleaning his chin with the back of his hand. Tom carefully stands up, still looking at you as he leans back and picks up a box of tissues from one of the benches. He passes a few to you then leans back against one of the lockers, looking at you admiringly with his arms crossed.

“Really good,” you manage, voice still a little hoarse. You clear your throat and ignore his chuckle as you take care of the mess between your legs with a tissue. Your eyes soften when you look back to him. “Thank you.”

Tom just nods, taking the used tissues and binning them before making a quick stop by a sink to wash his hands. When he strolls back over, he stands in front of you and cups your cheeks in his palms. You stare up at him, smiling as he meets your eyes.

“Glad I could make you feel nice,” he says, voice soft. He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Now… If you have time, I want to take you home. Run you a nice bath, make you some lunch. Make sure you’re looking after yourself.”

You feel your face warm as you listen to his musings, and find yourself biting the inside of your cheek. “You’d want to do all that for me?”

Tom nods. His hands run over your face, fingertips gently caressing your cheekbones. It’s as if he’s examining you, trying to ensure that you’re okay, that you’re safe, that you’re happy. It makes your heart soar.

“‘Course, darling. I care about you a lot.”

You tilt your head to the side so you can kiss the inside of his palm. “Okay,” you agree. You stand up, wincing slightly as your ankle disagrees with taking your weight. Tom’s hands move down to hold your waist, steadying you. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

You start to walk, only to look back at him and glare jokingly. “Can’t believe you ruined my underwear,” you say. “Feels fucking freezing without them on.”

Tom arches a brow, picking up his bag and slinging it over his back before catching up to you. “Um, I think technically it was you who ruined your underwear.”

You scrunch up the tip of your nose, only for your scowl to melt when he kisses it. When you reach the door, you undo the lock and open it, letting Tom through before following him out into the corridor.

“Whatever,” you reply, sinking into his side. His hand is warm in yours, your fingers tangled together nicely. “Worth it.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

It’s noisy in the arena.

With the final match of the season underway and the league title up for grabs, the atmosphere is electric. The stands are packed, frenzied by the presence of the large broadcasting cameras that stream the match live to thousands online. Sitting in the home section, the noise seems louder than it would be elsewhere in the arena. Everyone around you is as invested in the result as you are, and as the energy rises and falls, you feel connected to the mass of strangers around you. You know that they share the ache in your fingers built from the tight clenching of your knuckles into fists, and the strain of your eyes as you spend too long staring at the bright white ice.

The score is 4-4. The players from both teams have been giving some of the most convincing performances of their careers. It’s been close all match.

You hadn’t been sure that you’d be able to make the game, your own days filled with the later stages of your competition, but you’re glad you managed to swing it. Tom needs you.

He’s skating well. He’d assisted one of the team’s goals, and managed to subvert several other shots on goal attempted by his rivals. Tom looks as handsome as ever, face flushed, eyes focused, figure bulked wide with protective padding, but you know he’s nervous. He’s looking up at you more than usual, his teeth gritted together, and his jaw tensed. It’s clear just how much the title means to him.

It’s been a few weeks since Tom came and picked you up after your meltdown at practice, and since then, your feelings for him have escalated. You think it must be a form of torture to watch someone you care about so much getting pushed around, and injured, and hurt on the ice, knowing you can’t do anything but sit and watch it play out in front of you. Every time he gets slammed up against one of the plastic wall barriers, you wince, almost feeling the pain yourself, and despite him always brushing it off and getting on with the game, you worry for him.

“Fucking hell. That looks like it hurts.”

Beside you is Harry, one of Tom’s brothers. You’d met him before the match when Tom had thrust a ticket at you and told you that he’d wrestled it off one of his other brothers. Your guilt had been assuaged when you’d been told that Paddy finds the finals too stressful to sit through. Harry’s been entertaining you all evening, acting as a buffer between you and his parents, who make you feel nervous being so close to.

“Shit,” you agree. You wince as Tom gets barged into and goes spiralling across the ice, only stopping when one of his teammates catches him. “This is actually brutal.”

Harry makes a low humming noise. He turns to glance at you, then he hesitantly reaches down to pat your knee.

“He’ll be fine, though, Y/N,” he says, speaking a little awkwardly. “It’s uh… just part of the job. He’s used to it. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s broken his nose.”

You hum as you think about the wonky lines of Tom’s face. “True,” you agree. You pull your team scarf further around your figure, snuggling into it in search of relief. “Just isn’t nice to see him hurt.”

Harry makes a humming sound of agreement and releases your leg with a final pat. The game continues, and before you know it, they’re into the last third. As the clock ticks down from 20 minutes, things are tense. Tom blurs with the rest of the team, and your eyes skim around all the figures, moving and spinning across the ice like it’s choreographed. There’s something quite beautiful about how they’re able to execute formations and manoeuvres amidst such chaos.

Your eyes stick to the back of Tom’s jersey, screaming Holland in bright orange. He’s closing in on an opponent, trying to steal the puck with gritted teeth. The air leaves your lungs as the scene plays out in slow motion, your eyes widening to the size of gold coins as you watch the larger man smack the puck with ferocity, attempting a shot on goal before Tom manages to steal it. Instead of the puck flying near the goal, the angle flicks it to the side, and the entire section around you gasps as it soars through the air and collides with Tom’s face. His eyes are fine, given the visor on his helmet, but his nose is exposed, and it bears the brunt.

Your heart stills for a moment, the volume of the arena fading out completely as you see Tom go down, clutching at his nose as a trail of blood drips over the ice. There’s the sound of a whistle, and you only start to breathe again when you see one of Tom’s teammates haul him from the rink. His blood freezes to the ice, leaving a trail of dark marks staining the ground behind him.

“Fuck, fuck,” you find yourself saying, finally tearing your eyes away from Tom to stare at Harry. Tom’s brother is wincing. “What do we do?”

Harry shrugs, grimacing. You look back to the ice to where Tom’s being dragged on his skates back to the team bench. You can see him smiling, but it's indisputable that he’s in pain. You can see it in his eyes, and the way his blood mixes with the salty blend of aching tears. “Can’t really do anything,” he says. “Told you his nose gets it.” Harry pauses for a moment, then gently elbows your side. “You could go down, though. They’ll probably do a quick fix in the tunnel. I doubt he’ll want to be benched for the rest of the match.”

You nod stiffly, but find yourself hesitating. “Are you, uh, sure that he’d want that? It wouldn’t be annoying?” When Harry turns to raise an eyebrow, you chuckle nervously. “I don’t want to knock him out of the zone, y’know?”

Harry’s eyes fill with understanding, but you think you can still detect a layer of teasing to it. “My brother is actually obsessed with you,” he says. “He watches compilation videos from your competitions every single bloody night. Even if you broke his heart, I doubt he’d ever be able to find you annoying. So…” Harry pokes your shoulder. “Get down there, alright?”

You shoot him a smile, unable to pretend that his words don’t warm your heart.

The game is still paused, yet you hurry down the aisle, stepping over trays of discarded nachos and half-filled plastic pints of beer as you utter words of apology to the disgruntled fans. Moving quickly, you dodge up and enter one of the back stairwells, flashing your team ID at security. The arena is a complex system of back corridors and passages, but you know them inside out.

You reach the long corridor that connects the changing rooms to the ice, and you see Tom standing in the middle of it. He’s surrounded by people—doctors, his coach, a few reserve players. Out in the arena, you hear the game pick up, but back here, time is standing still.

“Stay still,” one of the medics says. Tom grumbles something before yelling out a light curse word. The closer you walk, the more you see. Tom’s holding a bunch of stained tissues to the bottom of his nose as the medic quickly bandages his bridge. It’s not advised for him to go back on the ice with a broken nose—but you also know that with ten minutes left on the clock, the patchy fix-it job probably won’t cause permanent damage. You quite like Tom’s wonky nose, anyway.

“He’s such a twat,” Tom grumbles, wincing again. “Did he get benched?”

“Yeah. Penalty.”

“Good.” Tom folds his arms over his chest. When the medic pulls away to dig through his bag of bandages, Tom glances up the corridor. His eyes widen as he sees you, and you watch him do a double-take. When you raise a hand in greeting, his face softens. “Y/N?”

“Hi,” you call out, stepping closer. “Is it okay I’m here? I, um… I was worried.”

He nods, only to receive a scolding from the medic. Smiling sheepishly, Tom beckons you closer. He offers you a hand, gloveless and cold, and you hurry forward to take it.

“‘Course,” he murmurs. Now close, you’re able to see the flecks of dried blood on his face. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he says, speaking softly as if he knows how frazzled you feel. “Happens all the fucking time.”

“Mmm. Harry said so.”

Tom raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really? How is he? Looking after you?”

You chuckle. “He’s funny,” you say. You roll your thumb over the back of Tom’s knuckles as he winces again, the medic pushing his ice pack out of the way so he can dab a wet tissue at Tom’s nostrils. You realise that his nose has stopped bleeding.

“Funnier than me?”

“Never.” You squeeze Tom’s hand. “You’re doing well out there.”

“Thanks, darling.” Tom glances away from you, looking back at the medic as he finally steps away to gather his stuff. “Can I-?”

“Yes,” the medic confirms. “Just don’t touch anyone. The second you’re done, come find me and I’ll fix you properly.”

Tom nods, then bites back a noise of pain. “Thanks, Doc,” he murmurs. Tom looks back to you, dropping his voice as you’re left alone with him. “I, uh, I gotta go,” he says, tilting his shoulder back in the direction of the ice.

“Okay.” You shoot him a soft smile and squeeze his hand before stepping back. “Good luck, Tom. Smash it.”

He pouts slightly, a wedge forming between his brows. “Kiss?”

“Kiss?” you repeat, snorting softly. When Tom nods sadly, you step nearer and press your hands to his shoulders. You lean up and capture his lips in a warm kiss, smiling into it as his palms paw at your waist. For a very brief moment, you get lost in it, overcome by the round lines of his chapped mouth and the heat of his hands, but you force yourself to step back. You can feel how badly he wants to be out on the ice. “Good luck, handsome,” you say, whispering against his lips. You step back and cross your arms, smiling widely as he blushes. “You’ve got this.”

Tom gives you a final nod, eyes alight. “See ya in ten!” he says, before turning on his skates. You stay watching him until he reaches the end of the corridor, and the smile is still on his face as he turns back to grin at you. The arena goes wild as he reappears, and you find yourself biting your lips as you try to control the butterflies in your stomach.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Tom lives about twenty minutes from the arena, and you find yourself waiting on his front step. With your knees pulled to your chin, the chill of a March evening cools your face. You don’t feel the cold much—instead, you’re distracted by the images of the team winning, playing on loop in your mind.

It’s a blur. A snapshot collection of Tom scoring the tie-breaking goal, the sight of the crowd going wild as the final buzzer sounded, the spray of champagne foam sticking to the ice. You’d hung around afterwards, receiving a very messy kiss from Tom who was vibrating from excitement. After a round of celebratory photos, Tom had been hunted down by the medics, and he’d pulled you aside briefly to ask you to meet him here.

You sigh as you stretch your legs out in front of you, looking down at the laces of your shoes and how they contrast the dark cement paving stones. Tom shares his house with Harrison and Harry. You’ve been here a few times, and it feels odd to be here without him.

“Y/N!”

You startle as you look up, so distracted by the loops of your laces that you’d failed to see Tom. He finishes clambering out of a large car, and you think you catch a glimpse of Harry in the front before it goes speeding away from the pavement. Tom approaches, his nose bruised but free of bandages, a wide smirk on his face as he picks up into a light jog. When he reaches you, he sweeps you to your feet, taking your hands firmly and kissing you before you have a chance to say a word. You shiver as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, craving the body heat, sinking into him and the scent of his fresh shampoo.

“You’re shivering,” Tom murmurs, pulling back to stare at you. His eyes widen as guilt shadows his features. “Fuck, how long have you been waiting for me?” He steps back to dig through his pocket, tongue settling between his lips as he hums.

“Ten minutes,” you estimate. When his eyes widen, you shrug bashfully. “Hasn’t been that bad. Next door’s cat came and said hi.”

Tom scowls as he steps past you, driving his key into the front door with ease. “Little ratty thing, isn’t it?” he mutters. He opens the door with a flourish, then steps aside to invite you in. When you walk across the threshold, Tom winds his arms around you from behind, pressing his chin to your shoulder before tilting his lips so he can kiss your cheek. His warm breath fans out across your face. “I’ll warm you up, darling. I’ll make you feel better.”

Ten minutes later, you’re in his bed. Despite his promise of warming you up, you seem to be losing more and more clothes. What had started out as a celebratory kiss has ended in you straddling him, grinding over Tom’s crotch as he gasps into your mouth and grabs at your waist.

You like being on top. It gives you better access to Tom—to the sight of his face constricting with pleasure every time you grind a little harder, and to the sound of his small moans. There’s a shadow along his nose and lining the swell of his cheeks from the break in his nose, and if he wasn’t so tender, you’d try to kiss it better. Instead, you decide to make him feel better in a different way. He’s calmer now than he’d been at the arena when he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off you or his lips away from your neck, but the longer you spend making out with him, the more eager he gets. There’s a dark spark in his eyes that matches the fervour in his grip.

“God,” he murmurs to your lips. “You’re such a beautiful girl.”

A hot flush travels through your body, and you shy your face into his neck. You distract him with kisses, dragging your lips over the firm flesh of his warm skin.

“Can I mark you?” you whisper, dragging your lips up to his ear. Tom moans loudly as you move your teeth over his earlobe and bite lightly.

“Fuck yeah,” he murmurs, rolling his hips up against you. You’ve ditched your jeans, and so has he, but where you’re still draped in a shirt, Tom’s chest is bare and exposed. You run your hand over his arm and feel his muscles there as you kiss up the side of his neck. Deep marks follow in the wake of your lips, but they aren’t nearly as pretty as the sound of Tom’s moans. “Fuck, darling. Shit. Feels so good.”

Tom lasts about a minute more before growling and pushing you from his neck. His eyes glint and a shrill squeal leaves your lips as he picks you up and presses you down onto the mattress. As your back sinks into the bed, the slats creak. Tom cages you in with a forearm either side of your head, one of his hands drifting into the ends of your hair as he very lightly rests his nose against yours.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.” Your smile twists a little darker as Tom rolls his hips against yours and you feel his cock straining against his boxers. You reach up to play with his hair, tugging on the strands when Tom moans. His curls are fresh and fluffy, air-dried after the shower and silky smooth to touch. You’ve been together a few times since he ate you out in the changing rooms, and though you’re yet to go all the way, you’ve picked up on a few of his preferences. “Are you okay?”

He isn’t doing much, just staring at you, lips parted. His eyes skitter across the shapes of your face before linking up with your own, and you feel your heart clench in your chest as Tom shifts his hand to cup your cheek.

“Just thinking,” he murmurs. He’s speaking quietly, voice gentle as if he’s being fragile with you. “I, um… I want to ask you something?”

You tilt your head to the side. “Right now?” you ask. To prove your point, you snake a hand down between your bodies and apply pressure to his member with the flat of your palm. Tom groans, eyelashes fluttering out across the top of his cheeks. It seems to take him a lot of self-control to nod, and you feel his hips quiver as he holds himself back from grinding into your hand.

“Yeah.” Tom takes a moment to pause. “We’ve been hanging out for a while, Y/N, and I really like you. I think that you’re so talented. And beautiful. Shit, you’re really beautiful.” He chuckles, his nerves showing on his face. “I can’t imagine being with anyone else. I wouldn’t ever want to be with anyone else. So, darling… Do you want to be my girlfriend?” He pulls back to peer at you, teeth clenched, eyes wide.

A smile breaks out across your face.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Tom,” you whisper. You lean up to kiss him just as he leans down, and you gasp as you accidentally hit Tom’s nose with yours. He groans, pulling up and dramatically falling onto his back as his limbs splay out. “Shit,” you giggle, sitting up and crawling closer. Tom’s pouting, tenderly poking at the edge of his nostril as he grimaces. “Sorry, baby.”

Tom melts, pulling you back on top of him. “Call me baby again and you can do anything you want to me,” he mutters. A small blush finds his face as he comprehends his words, and you end up smiling softly as you settle over his thighs. One of his large hands curls between your legs and you whimper as he teases you over your panties for a few moments. When he finally dips his fingers beneath the silky material, you find yourself whimpering.

“Feels good,” you moan, pressing your hands to Tom’s chest as he rolls two fingers around your slit. You get antsy and grind down against his touch, wriggling up his legs until his fingertips nudge against your hole.

His hair is spread out against the white sheets of the bed, face screwed into an expression of concentration as he curves his digits into your heat. You whimper, tossing your head back as he works you open with ease, brushing up against your g-spot and stimulating it until you’re gasping. As heat slowly begins to take over your body, you reach down to the hem of your shirt and pull it off. Next to go is your bra, and you guide Tom’s other hand to the curve of your breasts as you ride down on his hand.

“Look so pretty up there,” he murmurs, biting at his lip. “Like an angel, or a princess.” Tom skims his thumb over your nipple, smirking as you whine. “My princess.”

You gnaw on your lip for a moment before sitting up, letting Tom’s fingers slip out from you. You reach down and hook your thumbs beneath the material of his boxers, and Tom seems to get the hint.

“I need you,” you say, speaking quickly. You have to roll away to kick off your pants, and by the time you’re ready, Tom’s sitting up again. He slides up to sit against the headboard, fiddling with a condom and sheathing himself before you can spend too long admiring his length.

“C’mere then, lovie,” Tom coaxes. He pumps his cock in his fist a few times before hitting at his thighs, beckoning you forward. His lips kiss your forehead as you straddle him. Blindly, you reach down to cover his hand in yours, and together, you guide his tip to your entrance. Your slit is hot and pulsing, your body worked up from the teasing and the anticipation. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks, voice softer.

You shoot him a teasing look. “Yes,” you emphasise. You bite your lip as you slowly lower yourself onto him, gasping softly. “Been thinking about this for so long, Tom.”

Tom grasps your lower lip between his teeth, sucking on it harshly before flicking it up and stealing your mouth in a deep kiss. You moan as you settle there, in his lap, your walls stretched around him completely. You can feel everything—the curves of his cock, the press of his tip against your velvety walls, the feeling of his skin on yours. You love it.

It’s quick to become hot and intense. Tom’s hands on your waist, your fingers tangled in his hair. The stretch burns to enjoyment before long, and then you’re just lost in it. You feel so bare to him, beyond the fact that your naked bodies are intertwined so closely, like he’s able to see straight through you. For someone who spends so much of his life fighting aggressively, Tom is remarkably soft. His hips are firm, and his thrusts unrelenting, but his lips on your face are warm, and the words of heated affirmation he whispers into your ear make you melt.

“So tight, princess,” Tom moans, grasping at your waist. He kisses you, groaning into your mouth as you continue to ride him. You alternate your movements, swapping between deep bounces and swirling your hips in broad circles so that you get to feel every delicious line, bump and curve of him. “God. Feels like fucking heaven.”

“I know,” you manage, voice hoarse. You’re not embarrassed by the way there are wet sounds of arousal filling the air—it only seems to spur Tom on as he squeezes at your waist.

Things blur quickly. You can tell that he’s wound up from the stress of the game, and his hand is shaking when he reaches up to cup the top of your heat. You’re quick to match his arousal, feeling your own climax jerking closer as Tom brings his thumb down to your clit. You’re aroused, and your slit is wet, so it’s seamless as he toys with the bud.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, the syllables blurring as your eyelids drop closed. It’s hard to tell where your body ends and his begins, but you like it. Tom wraps his other arm around your hip and holds you close, touching his lips to yours as he finally spills.

“You’re so perfect,” he moans, his eyes screwing shut. “Shit, Y/N—”

The action of him throbbing against your walls pushes you over the edge too, and you’re panting into him as warm shivers spread over your entire figure. You’re full of a golden buzz as you stop moving, stilling with his cock still pressed inside you. Tom’s lips come down over the top of your head, following in a line from your forehead down your nose before going to your lips. When he finds your mouth, both of you are smiling.

“Wish we could do that forever,” he murmurs. “Felt amazing, darling. You’re amazing.” There’s a rosy flush to his cheeks, and he looks at you like he’s won the greatest prize of the night. “Stay?”

“Overnight?”

“Yeah. Right here.” Tom reaches out to hit the mattress. “I’ll cuddle you,” he promises. “Make you tea. Bring you breakfast.” He smirks. “Make love to you all night.”

You roll your eyes.

“Okay, boyfriend,” you agree.

Tom raises a brow as if he likes the sound of that, then seals the deal with a softer kiss.

“Perfect.” His hands skim up to cup your breasts, and he pecks your lips a final time. “Girlfriend.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

There’s an hour to go before you skate in the biggest competition of your life. You’re at the largest arena in London, killing time on one of the practice rinks as you try to forget that you’re so close to delivering your final routine of the season. This routine will decide if you come out on top or not and reveal whether you’ve managed to impress the Olympic talent scouts.

You feel a blend of two very fine emotions—confidence and nervousness. You’re prepared, you’re in control, and you’re ready, but that doesn’t make the prospect of going out there any less daunting. Adrenaline soothes the nerves, and distraction is your best friend.

Tom’s sitting on one of the benches, flitting between watching you and messing around on his phone. You’ve learnt that he’s the only person you like to be around before a competition, and in the month you’ve been officially together, he’s become your rock. He seems to get you—understands the way your brain spins when you’re stressed like this, knows when to step near and when to leave you alone. As if sensing your thoughts lie with him, he glances up from his phone.

The month off from competitions has been kind to Tom. He’d had a cracking set of bruises following his broken nose, but they’re healed now, and his skin carries the golden glow of a champion. After mouthing a few words to him from across the ice, you watch him sit up straighter and put his shoes to the bench. Tom had brought his skates to the arena, despite not being the one competing, because he knows, just as you, that sometimes the best way to relax before a competition is to mess around and distract yourself. Sitting beside him is a very large banner, hand-painted, that wears the words, Go Y/N!. He’d made it with the rest of his team, and you’d almost cried when he’d unrolled it and given it to you, grinning with pride like a small child showing off his art project.

You do a few spins as you wait for him, the small practice arena blurring. A few other people are hanging around—mainly your friends, and a few coaches, but none of them pay attention to you. You go so fast that you miss whatever it is Tom scoops up from the bench and then proceeds to hold behind his back, keeping it out of your sight as he skates towards you. A frown finds your lips as you drift nearer, squinting your eyes.

“What’s that?” you ask, trying to make out the object.

Tom juts out his lower lip, eyes dancing teasingly. “Not gonna say hello, darling? That’s a bit rude, don’t you think?”

You shoot him a poisonous look but sigh when he just smirks in response.

“Hello,” you say. You skate forward, planting your hands on both of his cheeks and drawing him in close. Tom’s lips are warmer than yours, and you savour their firm press. When you pull back, you cross your arms over your chest. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes first.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Begrudgingly, you shut your eyes. You hear the rustling of plastic, and then smell the scent of fresh flowers. Tom presses a bouquet into your hands, and your lips twist up at the corners.

“You can open them now.”

It’s a bunch of roses, dark red and delicate. You trail a thumb over their petals, breath caught in the back of your throat. Your boyfriend continues to speak as he watches you.

“You said that no one had ever bought you flowers before,” he explains, voice steady. “I was going to save them for afterwards when you win, but I know you’ll end up being given about a thousand when they all see how talented they are, so I wanted to get in first.”

You look up at him, tears blurring your waterline.

“They’re beautiful, Tom,” you whisper. His confidence in you, and the support he shows you, every single day, means everything to you. He means everything to you. “I love them. I…” You look up, meeting his eyes as you finally speak the words that you’ve felt so strongly but kept tucked away in your heart for fear of rejection. You aren’t scared anymore. “I love you.”

Tom’s eyes widen, his lips briefly parting. There’s a heart-stopping moment when he betrays nothing, but then life twitches across his face. He relaxes, sinking forward to touch your waist as he pulls you closer and brings his lips to yours.

“I love you too, darling,” he says. He’s able to press his nose against yours now, and you feel his cold tip press to your face as you shift the bouquet into one hand and curl the other around his back. “I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

You smile against him. “It was lucky, wasn’t it? That out of all the people on the rink that day, it was me you managed to crash into.”

Tom chuckles. “Felt less like luck at the time,” he admits. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

You smirk. “I was pretty mad. Can you blame me, though?”

“Nope.” Tom kisses the tip of your nose. “Worth it, anyway.” He surprises you by skating back, plucking the bouquet from your hand with ease before spinning you beneath his arm, cooing as the hem of your dress flutters in the air. “Did I ever tell you how much I love your outfit?” he adds. “You look like a princess.”

Your cheeks hurt, and when you stop spinning, you turn to face him.

“I feel like a princess,” you admit, accepting the flowers for the second time. “Does that make you my prince charming?”

Tom nods, smiling. “It’d be an honour.”

The air between you stills, and all that’s left is love.

“I’m nervous,” you admit, glancing down. “What if I fuck this up? What if I fall over? Or- or what if I don’t land a jump? What if my ankle can’t take it?” You gnaw on your lip. “Then it’ll all be over.”

Tom soothes you with a hand on your cheek. “You won’t fuck it up,” he says, voice confident. “You’re incredible, Y/N. You know the routine, and you know yourself. You’re ready for this.” He tilts his head to the side, eyes glinting warmly. “You’re going to go out there, smash it, then you’ll come back, and we’ll celebrate. Alright?”

You look down at the roses, then back to your boyfriend’s face, and you know that you believe him.

“Okay,” you agree. You bite your lip before darting up to kiss his cheek. “Love you, Tom.”

His eyes are full of adoration. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “I love you too.”

Tom presses his forehead to yours, and you relax there. With your fingers grasping the flowers and his hands caressing your waist, you let him support you. You let him kiss you, and hold you, and love you.

(And, later on, you let him hold your shiny gold medal, too.)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

i hope you guys liked dutchy as much i liked writing him :’)) this has taken almost a month! if there’s any interest, maybe we could do a hockey!tom blurb night soon...? idk ! i’d be down. let me know if you’d be too <3 thanks so much for reading!!!! please let me know what ya think!

mlist and taglist can be found through the link in my bio!

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland fluff #hockey!tomfic #tblr....please let me in the tags...? please?

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i-am-trying-my-best-okay · 4 years ago

Text

Roughly How I Would Write Twilight As A TV Show

SEASON 1 (AKA Book 1, Twilight)

It would start out with the typical Renee sending off Bella at the airport, but I think she should give her the camera now instead of later in the series, sort of like a send off present and it gives Bella an actual hobby. From the first scene it shows that Renee likes her daughter, but she doesn’t really cares and loves her, and that’s more on Bella’s side than hers, as Bella will hug her before going into the airport and Renee will let go before Bella and Bella will just keep hanging on to her, showing that she doesn’t really want to be separated from her mom. Also, throughout the first season she will be constantly checking her flip phone (I still want this to have the same time setting) to see if her mom messages her, but she never does, which will sink Bella into a deeper and deeper depression each time she checks.

When she and Charlie meet it’s really awkward, but both sides are trying and both sides feel bad about making things awkward. Also throughout the first season whenever they start getting closer Bella will sort of put distance between them and then hate herself for it. Perhaps she pushes him away because she is unused to this type of parental love and it makes her nervous. When she gets to school she meets Jessica whose very nosy but because she’s a self proclaimed reporter and likes to know everything about everyone; and she does. Except for the Cullen's, and that’s why she’s so obsessed with them, because she doesn’t know enough about them or she senses their is more. When Edward first sees Bella, whose eating with Jessica and only Jessica because she has a bad rep around the town so she has no real friends, he can’t read her mind and that really freaks him out. We’ve now shifted perspective towards the Cullen’s, and Edward is having a crisis because he’s grown so used to knowing every person’s thought it sort have turned him into a bit of a control freak and now he’s not sure how to handle this, and his siblings are trying to calm him down. Also later, probably that night, he’s freaking out and he wants to go see her and maybe test if he can read her thoughts when she’s asleep, which his family’s all like ‘bruh stop’ but he doesn’t bruh stop and tests it out, only to find out he can’t and he doesn’t try again.

When Bella and Edward meet Bella doesn’t really care much about him and his weird behavior, but then he stopped a car with his hand and then she cared a whole lot more. Maybe after the hospital she tests it out, seeing if she was actually crazy or not. Like she steals one of her dad’s handcuffs and before class handcuffs Edward’s seat to the leg of the table then during class suddenly goes really close and Edward scoots away really fast, breaking the handcuffs, or just something similar to that where she tests if what she saw was actually real. She gets into a few more conversations with Edward stretched out, at some point maybe Bella will throw the golden onion at Edward in anger, who knows. Throughout this entire season we will be constantly switching perspectives from Edward and Bella, which will give us some more time with the Cullen siblings and their dynamic.

Anyway, Bella will ditch the dance to go to the city and then the beach Charlie requests for her to take a at least three friends, and so she recruit's Jessica, Mike and Jacob, and this is where we first meet Jacob Black, but not the first time we meet Mike. With Mike, I kinda completely changed him, and he’s now a kid with serious anger issues and a tendency for small amounts of arson and fights, which makes him an outsider like Jessica, but they never hung out as fellow rejects or anything. Charlie was probably a bit late picking up Bella from the airport because he was busy driving Mike home from yet another case of arson. He never really gets charged with anything, since Charlie has sorta took it upon himself to look after him. Anyway, Bella probably had taken a picture of him when she first got here and that made him really mad but she had ran away. Now, as she approaches him to ask him to go to the city with her, he tries to fight her, but as they fight she still asks him to go to the city and than the beach with her, which kinda throws Mike off but he actually agrees because he’s worried his mom is worried about him not having friends, so they make a deal about pretending to be friends but of course they turn into real friends. Now with Jacob, Bella goes to his house to ask him, and find him fixing some weird broken thing with the music blasting and him singing along. When he see’s her he immediately knows it’s her and is thrilled. Charlie also came along to see Billy and we see cute friendship moments between them, also Charlie confessing his worries about Bella and Billy giving him advice.

So these four head on out to the city, and it’s the first time these people have come together and they slowly form a tight friend group. They roam the city and start chaos everywhere they go. Mike teaches them all how to shoplift although finds out Jessica is practically a pro, Jacob wants to roam through the dumpsters for parts he can use and the rest of them help him with Mike setting the occasional fire in these dumpsters, Jessica shows them how to stalk people and they tail a guy all the way home but they forgot about the not going inside his house part and the guy notices them so they need to make a run for it, and Bella is trying to take all these picture and nearly dies due to her clumsiness and determination to take the perfect pictures which lead to the rest of the gang saving her from falling off a building or onto the subway tracks or something. All and all, they’re each surprised about how much they like each other, except for Jacob, he liked them all from the start.

So they decide to all go out to eat before heading to the beach and Bella says she wants to go to the book store really quick and to not wait up for her. She had actually seen this book about anomalies and such through the window earlier that day, and she decided to go back for it. She had decided to go to the city originally because the drama with Edward was getting to be too much and she just needed some time away from Forks, but that book had captured her attention. Anyway we go to Edward and his family, who were at the city because they figured it would prove a nice distraction from Bella. Alice couldn’t say that Bella would be in the city because Jacob is with her and they don’t really outright say that he’s a werewolf yet. At some point the Vam Fam had smelled Bella and Edward went to go see her, much to his Vam Fam’s disappointment.

So Bella almost gets attacked by that group of guys and Edward steps in and they get to talking in the car he had stolen; well, technically Alice was trying to steal it but when he sensed Bella he took it from her and drove off. They go to the restaurant where her friends are and confirm that she has a ride with Edward to the beach, although at first he just says he’ll take her home afterwards since he can’t go to the beach, but Jacob’s all like ‘nah bro I’ll give you a pass’, since Jacob couldn’t care less about whatever feud is going on. So they eat and have an argument and they go back to the car all angry, and Edward is still bitching about how he doesn’t understand what Bella thinks or feels, since what with reading minds for roughly a century he doesn’t really remember how to properly understand a person, and this frustrates him. Before they go into the car, Bella checks her phone to see if her mom and texted her back. You see, before going on this day trip Bella decided to take initiative and text her mom first, since she didn’t do that before cause she was worried about bothering her. She did this early in the morning, and it was already night, and her mom still hadn’t texted her back. This caused sort of an emotional breakdown from Bella right there in the parking lot. She’s basically all like ‘fine, you wanna know what I’m thinking? well here you go’ and she just tells him everything, about her current situation with her parents, why she decided to move here even though she didn’t want to, how she just always wanted her mom to show that she loved her so she would always do everything to get that love, how guilty she feels for not being able to give Charlie the daughter-father relationship he probably wanted, feeling guilty wanting to be loved by her mom, basically screaming all her trauma at him. At the end she silently gets in the car and looks out the window as they drive away.

Edward feels kinda bad, so they have a nice bonding conversation, and Bella is still freaked out about his speeding. Anyway, it’s during this conversation that they both sort of develop//realize feelings they have for the other person. At first, Edward was just drawn to Bella because he was unused to not understanding people and he became obsessed with knowing her, and as he had gotten to know her he developed feelings. As for Bella, throughout this she had been interested in his inhuman nature and was equally as obsessed to understand and then also ended up falling for him. Basically they fell in love because of a desire to get to know the other person and desperate to make the person not know them. But when Bella tore down her walls in that parking lot Edward also told her some personal stuff, and I think it’s here in this car that Edward drops the bomb about being a vampire, and with now more fully understanding each other and no longer having that draw of being close to each other because of wanting to understand, there still a desire in both of them to keep seeing each other and that’s when they both realize their love.

Anyway, Edward drops Bella off and leaves immediately, but we still see people that live there scold Jacob for telling him it was okay to come drop of Bella. The squad have fun at the beach and Bella gets some great pictures, although she’s still digesting the whole Edward’s a vampire and she might be in love with him thing, so she tells her knew found friends about the whole being in love part and glosses over the vampire bit. Back with Edward, he tells his Vam Fam about being in love and telling Bella, where there are definitely mixed reactions. Now this is where they start interacting with Bella directly, rather when before they just tried to get Edward to chill about her. Alice is of course thrilled about this and has publicly declared Bella as her new best friend; it was an actual public declare, she had a microphone and announced it several times in the middle of town. Rosalie is super not thrilled about this, and definitely treats Bella coldly, although she’s thrown off at Bella’s apathy. Emmett, like Alice, is 100% down with this. Jasper is cautious, but otherwise just wants to watch it all unfold. Carlisle and Esme weren’t happy about exposing them to some teenager, but they support his endeavors none the less.

Anyway, after many shenanigans Bella is invited to dinner at the Cullen's, and she brings along Jessica, Mike, and Jacob. The family’s a bit wary of this guest list, as it was the girl who had tried several times to break into their house and expose their secrets, a well known arsonist, and a soon to be werewolf. But, they actually all had a grand time, and they all kinda start acting like one big family. Particularly Jacob with Jasper and Alice, and Jessica with Rosalie and Emmett, to set up my plans down the line. Now, I’m not saying that there NEEDS to be a polymerous relationship with these two sets of three, but I’d like for it to happen. Jacob would probably notice Jasper’s not really enjoying himself at this socializing stuff, especially with the smell of human blood and all, and Jacob comes over and they get to talking and Jasper will get into that, and it’s helpful that since Jacob is in the future going to be a werewolf he doesn’t have the urge to eat him. So Alice will come over, thrilled that Jasper is having a good time, and then her and Jacob will probably get into something wholesomely chaotic and Jasper will just sit back and watch, enjoying the drama that will come from this. And with Jessica, she’s asking a million questions and exploring the house as much as she could, and Rosalie has taken it upon herself to try and placate her, but Jessica ends up roping Emmett into something and Rosalie now needs to look after him too, but somehow they all have a good time. Meanwhile, I feel like Mike would really vibe with Carlisle and Esme, not in a polymerous way like the others. They’re so exasperated by his behavior but never rude to him, which he finds jarring and it encourages him to be nice to them, and they sort of become like parents to him.

Anyway more stuff happens, probably romantic stuff between Edward and Bella and Jacob kinda slowly realizing he has feelings for Bella more near the end of the season but not letting it show, and then there comes the baseball scene. While they’re doing baseball Jessica actually put a sort of spy camera thing on Bella, but Edward wasn’t around when this was happening, and Jacob was with Jessica when she did this so Alice couldn’t see it. Anyway, Jessica, Jacob and Mike go about spying and they find out that about the whole vampire thing, Then the other vampires show up and they actually drive down to help, driving out onto the field, nearly running over the other vampires, which by the way, besides Victoria, James, Laurent, there’s actually going to be two more vampires with them. I say this, because after getting out of the car, Mike throws a match at this other vampire which sets them ablaze. James, who afterwards comments how he always hated this vampire, takes this opportunity to tear them to pieces as they burn so they die, while Victoria and Laurent are in the back like ‘this bitch really just did that; this is why we can never add new members to our group’. I dunno, I feel like this group of three should be a lot closer and maybe not spilt up or something, like their actually friends.

So now James has two objectives; make Mike into a vampire, and eat Bella, in no particular order. He just takes a really big interest in Mike. Anyway, Laurent is just so done with this drama, and tells James that the Volturi was probably going to be really upset about four non vampires being in on the secret, so they probably don’t want to get involved when shit hits the fan, and Victoria, who is always down for a little murdering, convinces him that they need a more careful plan then just going after them. So James reluctantly agrees, but when they leave he tells the other vampire that’s there to go after Bella and Mike and bring her to him without telling the other two.

So drama ensues, they gotta keep Mike and Bella from dying, they gotta deal with more people knowing their vampires, etc. I think that the vampire that now’s gotta track down Bella and Mike, who I’m gonna call Eric because this is Eric now, isn’t super down with this but is going with it cause he doesn’t want James to kill him. So he feels bad about all this and becomes pretty sympathetic, and the Vam Fam at some point will try and convince him to just join them and that they’ll protect him, but Eric didn’t do it so they had to kill him in the end and it’s very sad.

Anyway, we’ll probably go back to the vampire trio and they figured out that James sent Eric away and now Eric was dead, and they’re just talking. Also, I’m making Victoria and James not mates, because I don’t want that. And there’s the dance that of course needs to happen, and at the end of the season it shows how far Bella’s and Charlie’s relationship has progressed, and with Bella injured she needs Charlie to do some things for her, and she’s forced to accept parental care and learns that it’s actually not that bad. She also stopped constantly checking to see if Renee had texted her. So back to the dance, the Vam Fam siblings and Bella with her friends all go and of course cause chaos that gets them kicked out of the dance. So they decide to go running around town instead, and Bella and Edward have a quiet moment together and it’s nice.

SEASON 2 (AKA Book 2, New Moon)

So the Vam Fam doesn’t leave town, because I don’t want them to. There was going to be a birthday party at the Vam Fam’s house, and along with Bella’s friends Charlie’s invited and he tries to invite Billy too but then Billy turns him down saying he can’t go there, which makes Charlie sad so now Billy’s sad and he grits his teeth and asks the Vam Fam to hold the birthday party somewhere on neutral ground, so they do and they end up going to like the woods or something, maybe that special meadow Bella and Edward had gone to. So the party’s going fine although it’s a little tense with Billy there, which kinda makes the rest of the people there confused. Jacob doesn’t really get why his dad hates the Vam Fam, or why most everyone he knows does, and he tires to get them to get along, but it fails.

When Billy sees Jacob all friendly with the Vam Fam, particularly Jasper and Alice, Billy tries to put a stop to that, telling Jacob not to get to close. Jacob’s trying to make light of the situation, being all like, ‘nah dad, you crazy’ and Emmett joins in trying to make a joke of it; I feel like Emmett and Jacob would have such a Fred and George Weasley vibe to them as friends. However, as Billy gets more and more persistent with Jacob cutting himself off from the Vam Fam, Jasper gets noticeably hostile, not liking that idea at all, and ready to throw down with Billy. Alice, also visibly upset but not hostile, tries to calm him down while the rest of the family tries to reason with Billy, as they are also not thrilled with the idea of not seeing Jacob again and they don’t want Jasper to fight Billy and break the treaty. Bella’s trying to get everyone to calm down by reminding Billy that this is her birthday party and uses her birthday privilege's to ask him to leave it for now. Meanwhile Mike is yelling at Billy and Jessica is writing everything down, Charlie’s asking Billy to not ruin his daughter’s birthday party, it’s a mess all around.

At some point Billy says something that goes to far and Jasper lunges for him and the Vam Fam need to stop him and such. After the party Jacob takes Billy home, and both of them think that the other doesn’t know about the vampires so they’re just kinda tensely all like ‘well that was weird, probably nothing to really look to deeply into though, haha’. After the party to lighten the mood Edward starts bitching about how he couldn’t give Bella a present, and so Bella takes a picture of him and says ‘there, now you gave me a present, happy?’ and it’s very cute. Jacob gets a bit upset at Jasper, telling him that he shouldn’t attack his father and stuff, and Jasper doesn’t feel bad about it and is just sad that Jacob is now upset and Alice is trying to get them to make up, which they do eventually. And Charlie questions Billy about his odd hatred and Billy kinda dodges the questions.

So in this season it’s basically about how Edward and Bella are dating and Jacob is secretly in love with Bella but it’s not a secret to the Vam Fam thanks to their powers and then Jacob deals with the werewolf thing and how he’s suddenly supposed to hate them. It’s a very Jacob centered season. And there is of course the motorcycles, which are there because Jacob gave them to Bella as a birthday gift, saying he had found them at the dump a few days ago and still need to fix them up, so now they start hanging out alone more to fix the bikes, although sometimes Mike and Jessica tag along. This is also where Bella learns that she actually really likes the rush of adrenaline, much to Edward’s nagging. There’s also going to be some tenseness between Edward and Jacob in this season, but it’s more quiet since Jacob never outright says he likes Bella, although after he learns about the whole mind reading thing he doesn’t know what to do about that. And of course there’s the jealousy from Jasper and Alice’s side, who are slowly coming to terms with their feelings for Jacob, and are heavily conflicted because he’s going to be a werewolf and they can’t be together after he turns but they still want to make the most of the time they spend together, and it makes Alice anxious when she can’t see Jacob’s future which makes him unpredictable to her and she worries if something bad will happen to him when he’s out of her sight which in turn makes Jasper sense her worry and makes him worried so they try to be around him as much as possible, which he enjoys but is a bit thrown off by.

This is where Jacob introduces his other friends Emery and Quil. I want to make them a bit more distinct from each other, so I want Emery to be the quieter yet very rebellious one that does crazy shit, and Quil to be the more extroverted one but can get very moody and cynical, which Leah can definitely vibe with and they often have deep conversations. Speaking of Leah, we also meet Leah and Seth this season. The Vam Fam is less than friendly towards them, similar to how they treated Jacob at first, the only difference being that they didn’t end up warming up to them, except for Leah and Rosalie, who became surprising friends.

Jacob gets stressed about the situation with Emery suddenly joining Sam’s little cult, and while the Vam Fam sympathizes with him, they don’t tell him the secret. He’s not super surprised that Emery suddenly got into the group, since Emery’s always doing crazy shit and so does Sam’s pack, but he does find it weird that he’s suddenly not talking to him and Quil anymore. So Jessica is now super ready to expose all of Sam’s secrets on this weird group and how he sucked Emery into it, so she, Jacob, Bella, Quil, Leah, Seth and Mike keep trying to find out about Sam’s crew, and Jasper and Alice try to put a stop to it, worried that finding out will trigger Jacob’s transformation, and Rosalie and Emmett sometimes give assistance because Jessica asked, but they don’t get to involved because of the treaty, and Edward is really worried about Bella while she does this so he’s torn between helping and stopping it, shifting from helping Jasper and Alice and Rosalie and Emmett.. And this sort of mystery solving thing carries on for a while, and at this point Sam and his crew are pretty fed up with it.

So then comes the time when Jacob becomes a werewolf, and happens after him, Bella, Mike, and Jessica take a break from spying and cause chaos at the movies; the employees saw them enter and they already knew it was going to be a rough day. Bella was recording the movie illegally, Mike set a small fire to the popcorn, Jessica broke them into where they were making the movies play and that’s where they watched it, and Jacob, in his sickened state, accidently broke the thing playing the movie and they had to bolt. Bella, Mike, and Jessica all get worried about him, and they try to go visit him at home but Billy keeps pushing them away, and the Vam Fam wouldn’t give any details, so Jessica does what she does best and breaks in, where Jacob nearly attacks her in his wolfy state, but he manages to calm down and he and Jessica talk about how he’s turning into a werewolf.

So after Jacob can go out and about, the pack tells him he can’t hang out with the Cullen’s anymore since they’re vampires, and Jacob’s all like, ‘okay, but they don’t hunt people, they hung animals right? so what’s the problem lmao’ he’s genuinely confused why they need to be all hostile towards them. And here while they’re trying to convince him to not hang out with vampires it can show the dynamic of the pack. Sam can come across as too harsh and a very dominate person, while his second in command, Jared, is much more chill and tires to broaden Sam’s narrow view. But Jared is the only one who can do this, since they’re very close and possibly lovers that have imprinted on each other. Emily is actually a werewolf now, and she got her scars because she and Sam actually became werewolves at the same time and when they first met as werewolves their hormones were all over the place so they attacked each other and that’s how Emily got her face injuries. Anyway, she’s got a level head too but she mostly thinks about what’s best for the pack rather than everyone like Jared does. Then there’s Paul, the guy whose always of the mindset to throw punches first and ask questions never. I’m going to make Brady and Collin here now too, and with Brady, he’s honestly apathetic to the idea of now being a wolf, and would much rather go read a book or something then be here with all this wolf drama. As for Brady, she’s pretty social awkward, but just as vicious as Paul if she gets into the mood. Basically, she’ll be all like, ‘uh, hi, yeah, um, maybe we should, uh, if you don’t mind that is, just go in and kill them all? please?’ and I changed Brady to a girl just to help with the ratio of boys to girls in the wolf tribe. As for Emery, he’s the one who will put himself in the most danger, but also he’s at odds with Sam what with them being half brothers and not having the best relationship before all this wolf stuff went down. Also, Jessica is there too when Jacob goes to meet them, which the pack isn’t happy about, telling her she can’t report this.

Anyway, the Vam Fam are depressed about the whole situation with Jacob cause they really liked him, so imagine their surprise while Bella and Mike were also hanging out at their house when Jacob and Jessica burst in. Jacob explains what’s been going on, basically asking if he can break the treaty and still hang out. Rosalie’s all like ‘bitch no’, nervous about the safety of her family, and Edward sides with her, much to Bella’s glaring. Esme and Carlisle, are hesitant, but do give in. And Alice, Jasper, Emmett are of course ecstatic of this news that he didn’t suddenly hate them. I think this is actually an opportunity for Jacob to get closer to Jasper and Alice, since Jasper can help with Jacob’s new found anger. I think werewolves when they first become werewolves they have an explosive temper, kind of like puberty, but then after a few months or however long they calm down. Anyway, Jasper can help with managing his anger, and this may result in some codependency's now that I think about it, but these books are built on codependent relationships, so the more the merrier.

But then the vampire trio tell the Volturi about the situation down at Forks, and the Vam Fam need to go down to the Voltari to go talk to them. But Jessica, who had actually started to gain a lot of odd information on the vampire world as any good reporter would, hears the news of the potential planned killing of the Vam Fam set up by the vampire trio, so now Bella, Mike, Jessica and Jacob need to go to the Volturi to put an end to that. Before the Vam Fam could even get to the Volturi, James gets all impatient and starts attacking them right then and there, in front of all those people. A fight scene happens, and then Jane shows up like ‘surprise bitch’, but then the real surprise comes when Bella and her friends show up, causing a scene and it accidentally lets James and his crew to get away.

I think it would be a cool scene if Jacob, Edward and Bella enter first ahead of the rest of them and the moment they’re in front of the Volturi, with Aro looking at them, he’ll smile and say something like ‘a vampire, a werewolf, and a human; what an oddity you all are’ and since these three had kinda been a bit at odds this season what with Jacob’s crush on Bella, now they are a united front. So they make an arrangement for them all to become vampires within a certain time frame or else they will be killed. Aro also says that they’ll occasionally go check up on them.

Now Edward’s being all emo and avoiding Bella, which makes her sad so Jacob goes and tracks down Edward and he bolts, so now Jacob is chasing after Edward, being all like ‘bitch you better go see her’, and he actually ends up catching him. Edward’s all like ‘but don’t you love her’ and Jacob just kinda shrugs and says something like how mutual love is much better than a one sided one. They have this heartfelt talk about stuff and Edward goes to see Bella, and Jacob, who at this point had just been comically chasing Edward around, allowed himself to cry once Edward left. Then he’ll go talk to Alice and Jasper, and throughout this entire season it seemed obvious that they were both trying so hard to keep hold on the ties they had, regardless of the obstacles, and now it’s kind of come full circle when they can just relax and be together and stuff, also there will be a small hint of Jacob’s returning feelings towards them. So Edward and Bella share a moment, maybe back at that meadow or something.

But the last scene of the season will be Leah and Seth at home with their dad Harry, and the whole Leah transforming which gives Harry a heart attack and then Seth transforms too, and it’s just going to be a very jarring scene to end on.

SEASON 3 (AKA Book 3, Eclipse)

So the first scene will be with how James, Laurent and Victoria are making their army and this is where Bree comes in. Victoria is honestly thriving with this whole army thing, and James is just super impatient and wants to just go kill em, and Laurent is low key stressed about pissing off the Volturi.

But with the wolf pack, there’s a new dynamic that Leah and Seth brings and there’s the whole grief with their father, so maybe the just refuse to transform for a while, sort of defying the pack and it’s alpha and choosing not to be a part of it. So that’ll cause drama for a while, as if there wasn’t enough with Jacob still running around with vampires and by the looks of things getting way to close to Jasper and Alice. Jacob is trying to get over his love of Bella, and is doing pretty good, much to the delight of Jasper and Alice, but they don’t want to rush things. Also, I don’t think werewolves should be able to share thoughts so they know exactly what’s happening with each other at all times, but instead when they shape into werewolves they can communicate with their minds. That way Jacob can keep it a secret about the whole turning three humans into vampires thing.

Also, with the idea that they now how to eventually turn three humans into vampires or else they’ll die is kinda unsettling to the Vam Fam. They’re trying to decide when to do it, and they all have different opinions. Jessica and Mike are honestly ready right now, but Bella wants to wait till after high school since she worries about Charlie, Rosalie and Edward wants to do it never and would honestly rather try and bring down the Volturi, Emmett will be down for honestly anything whether it be doing it now later or fighting the Voltari, Esme, Carlisle, and Alice actually agree with Bella and think waiting till they move town again would be the smartest plus Alice looks into the future and thinks that it’ll be the best possible outcome, Jacob is just upset that they’ll all be leaving him although he is reassured that he is welcome to come with although he’s not sure how that’ll pan out with the pack, and Jasper just says he’ll take care of things when they turn since he knows newborns best and just watches everyone fight over the timing since he lives for the drama. And this will also be the season of Vam Fam backstories, so throughout we will get flashbacks of what each of the Vam Fam went through. Their backstories will basically be the same, except I’m gonna tweak Jasper’s and make him a slave that was forced into fighting for the confederate side.

Also, per their promise, the Volturi will occasionally pop in just to check up on them, which will cause the wolves to mad about that. ALSO, listen, what if Aro and Marcus became low key friends with Charlie? LISTEN they keep coming around to Forks, and eventually Charlie will approach them because he hears that they’ve been talking to his daughter and he asks what’s up. Aro and Marcus will bring him to a bar or something and lie about it, but as they get to talking they somehow start bonding, and Aro and Marcus are like ‘what’s happening? what spell is this human casting upon us?’ but it’s just Charlie being the best as usual and them starting to like him. So now they’re friends that often have conversations as the season goes on, and when Billy catches wind of this he is super unhappy, wondering how Charlie can be so chill yet so prone to getting into dangerous situations, kind of like his daughter.

And since last season the polyamorous relationship that got more time was Jasper, Alice, and Jacob, so now we’ll shift more towards Rosalie, Emmett, and Jessica. Rosalie is obviously super unhappy about having to turn Jessica into a vampire, since although she loves Jessica she didn’t want her to end up like her and was content with having to leave her in order for Jessica to leave a normal life. So now throughout the season Emmett and Jessica take it upon themselves and the single brain cell they share among the two of them to reassure Rosalie in the best way they can; also, it really establishes how Rosalie is the brains of this trio, with Emmett being the himbo and Jessica being the stubborn dumbass.

So then news about the vampire trio building an army and such travels to Forks and Jessica is actually the first to hear of it. Also, the objective of this vampire army is more world domination than just tracking down Bella and Mike, although that’s definitely part of it. Since the Volturi is already after them, why not strive for world domination? We’ll also keep having scenes of the vampire army shenanigans, particularly with the vampire trio and Bree. Also, Alec and Jane were in charge of the tracking down the vampire trio thing, and they discovered the army, and they were gonna put a stop to it, but then they met Bree. They probably met while Alec and Jane were debating how to take down the army and the vampire trio and such, when some random drunk guy showed up and was being a creep towards them, so they were gonna finna destroy him when Bree popped up and threw a rock at him, took the two and ran. They get to talking and shenanigans' and they actually grow attached to her, but Bree is a very weak vampire, which is odd for a newborn, so they know the Volturi won’t accept her and that would mean they would have to kill her. So they keep delaying the killing of the vampire trio and the army to hang out with Bree some more, tortured by the idea that they’ll have to kill her eventually. Also, I’m gonna make Bree their age, or make them Bree’s age, whichever works.

So anyway, with the threat of the vampire army, the vampires and the wolves are forced to work together. Aro and Marcus know that Jane and Alec are supposed to take care of it, but they’re kinda amused so they’ll see how it all pans out. And of course chaos ensues and nobody can get along, which bugs Bella the most because she has this thing about making everyone around her happy at the cost of herself, so she comes up with idea of doing a group bonding exercise, like they all go to an amusement park or something, which she in fact hates but does for the sake of bonding.

So back to the Leah situation, she needs to go through a whole arc, and Seth does too. Leah probably low key thinks Seth blames her for the death of their father, but the thought never crossed his mind. And since she’s avoiding Seth because of this, Seth thinks that Leah doesn’t want him around. So they need to clear up that understanding, probably with the help of Emily. While Jared makes sure Sam doesn’t slaughter all the vampires and potentially Jacob, Emily tries and mends things within the pack.

At some point, Leah and Mike get kidnapped by the a few members of the vampire army. What had happened was Leah and Mike were hanging out, as everyone was taking shifts trying to get Leah and Seth to transform again, and Seth had run off at this point, and Mike was surprisingly making some serious progress, when a few members of the vampire army, including Bree, saw them and was like ‘oh wait, isn’t that Mike? from the pictures James showed us? and that girl has black hair, is that Bella bro?’ so they kidnap them.

So Leah is super not Bella and the vampire trio get angry and punish them, well, Laurent kinda just watches. So Bree will meet up with Alec and Jane kinda messed up from the punishment, also, Bree still has no idea who Alec and Jane are or even what the Volturi is. But anyway, when Alec and Jane find out about this they are very unhappy, and hatch a plan with Leah to go get the Vam Fam and the werewolves and come fight the army now, now that they have a location of them. Jane and Alec are doing this rather than taking them down themselves because if the rag tag team of vampires and werewolves were the ones fighting and not them then it would seem more reasonable if one of them were to escape the battle and disappear, that being Bree.

Mike isn’t there when this plan is hatched because he’s taking with James, who wants to turn Mike into a vampire now, but his other two friends keep telling him that Mike will just turn on them and they need to convince him to join their side while he’s still a human. So him and James hang out and although Mike is cussing them all out, him and James actually have fun causing destruction, and he also causes the biggest case of arson he has done yet, which gives him a rush. Also, Leah is trying to turn into a werewolf now, given the dire circumstances, but she can’t and she doesn’t know why.

So Jane and Alec tell the crew about the kidnapping and the location, so they all head out. Jessica and Bella try to convince the Vam Fam to just turn them into vampires now so they can help out, but they say that they’ll just be unconscious for a few days so it wouldn’t help, but Jessica and Bella say that they can be like a back up plan if they fail, so when they wake up they can avenge them or something. And this is the first time the werewolves aside from Jacob heard about the plans to turn three humans into vampires, so discord ensues but they don’t have enough time so they just go to the vampire army with Bella and Jessica tagging along, thanks to Alice who said they would in fact be useful.

So they get to the army and the battle ensues. Seth is now in werewolf form, wanting to protect his sister, and when Leah sees Seth in a tight spot, she manages to turn into a werewolf again and protect him. Mike is actually very attracted to the idea of destroying the world, but when he sees his friends, he doesn’t want them destroyed so he doesn’t go to the side of the vampire trio. After a lot of epic fighting and some unexpected teamwork, the vampire army is destroyed, and within that chaos Alec and Jane took Bree and high tailed it out of there, explaining the whole situation to Bree. She’s kinda upset that they were planning to kill her, but then Aro and Marcus appear before the situation with that could get too out of hand. Marcus senses the strong relationship the three have, and tells Aro that they will indeed lose Alec and Jane if they kill Bree, and they kinda need them so Aro plays if off like ‘why didn’t you tell me you guys wanted a new friend? sure she can join the Volturi’ and although they are confused they’re just happy Bree’s gonna live, and now they can be together.

So the vampire trio retreat, still alive somehow, and the vampire army is gone, and they got Leah and Mike back, plus Leah and Seth transform now, so all’s well that ends well. Also maybe Brady and Leah get together, which would have been set up throughout the season. Why? I dunno, because I want Leah to be happy, and also with the personality I gave Brady it would be a fun dynamic I think. Brady is all shy while Leah has a much more forceful personality, but Brady is always ready to cut a bitch while Leah isn’t all that down with hurting people most of the time. They’d probably imprint on each other.

So back with the whole Emmett and Jessica trying to convince Rosalie not to worry too much about Jessica turning into a vampire, Rosalie had known what they were doing since the beginning, and to her surprise it actually slightly worked? Not really but Rosalie chooses not to focus on the fact that Jessica will be turned into a vampire, but instead that they’ll always be together, and it’s sweet moment for the three of them. And so the Vam Fam decide to do the vampire turning thing after high school, and Edward asks if they can do it after his and Bella’s honeymoon, since he and Bella had an arrangement. Now, the audience knew about this since Bella throughout the season had been asking if Edward wanted to sleep together since she wanted to do that as a human, but he’s very adamant about the whole wait until marriage thing, so he proposed at probably the worst time, and she accepted.

But the Vam Fam didn’t know about this, so now their all dealing with that, and agree let Bella wait until after and Jessica and Mike will turn first. So some days go by and they’re planning the wedding, and then what a surprise; Renee shows up, having heard about the wedding from Charlie.

SEASON 4 (AKA Book 4, Breaking Dawn)

Wedding time, yay. Also, Renee is creating a super uncomfortable atmosphere, what with the whole Bella feeling neglected from her, and also she brought along Phil, her new husband. Everyone’s acting pretty protective over Bella, eyeing Renee up. Particularly Edward; whenever he sees Renee he just glares at her full on while holding onto Bella, and whenever Renee tries to talk to him he throws so much poetic shade Renee doesn’t even know what this man is talking about.

Bella’s kinda tense about Renee being here, and tries to get along with her, but after getting all that parental love from Charlie, she forgets that’s not how Renee operates, leading to some tense moments between her and Renee. But the wedding planning continues and Alice is stressed because these chaotic idiots are ruining her perfect planning skills. But the wedding goes on and it actually goes off without a hitch. Well, except for Mike causing a teeny tiny fire to only ONE of the bouquets, and Bella did end up tripping going down the aisle while bringing Charlie down with her so Edward went over to her and they both had to go to their places together, and Emmett and Jacob did do that drinking contest but Emmett left out the part where he couldn’t get drunk and Jacob got absolutely wasted so Jasper was in charge of taking care of him, Jessica was trying to get info on the other vampire guests which was annoying them while Rosalie stood menacingly behind her to make sure they didn’t try and anything, and one of those other vampire guests did end up sort of trying to attack Billy, but other than that it went great.

But before the wedding came to a close Bella realized that she’ll probably never see Renee or Charlie again, so she pays a lot of attention to Charlie, but near the end she asks Renee and Charlie to take a picture with her, one that she could keep for after. She and Renee got on better terms, and Renee admits that she could have been a better mother. So Bella and Edward go on their honeymoon where they have tons of sex and we get lots of scenes of that, but back in Forks, disaster ensues.

So Mike and Jessica are getting ready for the whole going to be a vampire thing, and the Vam Fam makes arrangements to move. Mike and Jessica leaving won’t look weird, since they just graduated high school and it’s not like they have anyone particularly close here, well, except with Mike’s mom. So he goes to say his goodbyes to her, and it’s very sad because Mike knows they’ll never see each other again but his mom doesn’t. And then there’s the whole situation with Jacob going with them, which his pack and dad aren’t happy about. So he’s trying to convince them, when suddenly him imprints on Alice and Jasper. Now it’s official; he needs to go with them, and it’s actually a kind of sad goodbye to his dad and the werewolves that were actually his friends. So now the Vam Fam has included Jacob in it, now it was Jessica and Mike’s turn.

So the Vam Fam and Jessica and Mike go to the new house and they turn Jessica and Mike into vampires, with Rosalie being the one to do it for Jessica and Carlisle doing it for Mike. Then, the vampire trio show up to ruin things, and there’s a big fight, and James and Mike have their own separate fight going on. Throughout this entire series, it would be shown the parallels between Mike and James, how naturally violent they both are, how it seems to be a match made in hell for these two. But now it seems like their violent ways had caught up so them, as they fight with everything they got and enjoying the hell out of it, and so Mike and James die together, having killed the other one. Mike’s final words will probably be something like ‘damn, I just got these cool ass powers; I was gonna do so much’ and James laughs and is like ‘hell yeah, you missed out’ and after they say that they die, hand in hand.

The vampire trio, now the vampire duo, is devastated at this news, James was like family to them. So they run off but swear revenge, even Laurent pissed off now. They all mourn the death of Mike, and Alice was taking it especially hard because she had relaxed on the future seeing and didn’t see this coming. Then she saw the thing with Bella being pregnant and went to go call her to tell her that she was pregnant and Mike was dead.

Bella had already suspected the pregnant party, but the Mike being dead took her so off guard she actually fainted, although Edward caught her. They go to the house where the wolf pack was already there at the request of Jacob, to help fight when the vampire duo attack. Although, they are not happy with the pregnancy. It’s very emotional for a while, what with Mike dying, Jessica dealing with being a newborn, and Bella on the verge of dying with this baby she refuses to give up.

So she gives birth and dies but comes back a vampire, and now Renesmee is out in the world, which the Volturi doesn’t like. We go back to the Volturi and get some scenes with them, also with Aro and Marcus consoling Charlie about his ‘dead daughter’ who they actually feel genuinely bad for. Also we get scenes with Bree, Alec and Jane, who are just having a grand time, although some of the other vampires pick on Bree for being so weak, Alec and Jane roll up and they’re on their knees in front of Bree begging for forgiveness, which she gives much to Alec and Jane’s pouting. In any case, the Volturi know about Renesmee, and they need to go kill her.

So Bella’s discovering her mind blocking powers, and Edward is losing his mind about how he finally knows why he can’t read her mind, and Jessica learns she doesn’t really have any powers other than an average vampire. Life goes on and such, and Bella and Edward are getting really attached to Renesmee, loving the hell out of her and doing their best to figure out how to be parents, and this is when the coupling of Jacob with Alice and Jasper and Jessica with Emmett and Rosalie is now official, so they get couple moments. But then the Volturi rolls in. Alice does her thing and shows what will happen if this battle happens so they roll back out, but then Victoria swoops in and straight up kills Renesmee, then Bella kills her. Laurent is there, but after Victoria dies he realizes that all his friends, his family, are dead, and so he just closes his eyes and allows himself to be killed.

So after Renesmee is dead, Edward and Bella are really going through it, and then Bella just reminds Edward of his days of killing murders and pedos and such, and she kinda hints that she’d be totally down for some of that. And so now it’s murder road trip time of killing murders and pedos, and the Vam Fam isn’t upset about the killing really, their just worried that this might not be the healthiest way to handle the loss of their child. But they do and we get to see a bunch of their killing fun times, and there’s actually going to be a time jump of maybe like 30 years or so, when the Vam Fam is in a different town doing stuff, and then Edward and Bella show up and they’re all reunited. Edward and Bella settle down from the killing joy ride, although they hint that they wouldn’t be adverse to doing it again if they get into the mood. So now that’s their cute couple thing; killing murderers and pedos.

EXTRA DETAILS

Couple pet names would consist of;

Edward to Bella: Love, My Lion (Edward had that dumbass line about him being the lion and her being the lamb, but I’m gonna change it so he was like ‘at first I thought you were the lamb and I was the lion, but I realize it’s the opposite’ or something stupidly emo like that and Bella’s all like ‘Edward pls’ but the nickname stuck)

Bella to Edward: My Lamb (same explanation as above)

Rosalie to Jessica: My Little Storm

Rosalie to Emmett: My Monkey Man

Emmett to Rosalie: Babe (when referring to both Rosalie and Jessica he says Babes), Angel

Emmett to Jessica: Babe (same explanation as above)

Jessica to Rosalie: Kitty

Jessica to Emmett: Big Boy

Jasper to Alice: Ma’am, Frightening Little Monster, Darlin’

Jasper to Jacob: Sunshine, Darlin’

Alice to Jasper: My Darling

Alice to Jacob: My Dearest

Jacob to Jasper: Cat (It started as a joke and then it wasn’t)

Jacob to Alice: Raven (again, started as a joke)

Jared to Sam: Sap

Sam to Jared: My Life, Precious Thing

Leah to Brady: Baby

Brady to Leah: Mine

Regular nicknames used by anyone;

Isabella: Bella, Bells

Michael: Mike, Mikey

Jessica: Jess, Jessie

Charlie: Chuck (only if you want to annoy the hell out of him)

Rosalie: Rose, Rosie

Jasper: Jazz, Whitlock

Alice: Mary, Shorty

Emmett: Em, McCarty

Edward: Anthony, Eddy

Esme: Platt

Carlisle: Lyle

Jacob: Jake, Jay

William: Billy

Sam: Sammy

Jared: Jay-Jay

Emily: Lily

Paul: The Paul-ster (If you want him to try and kill you)

Brady: Phyco

Leah: Lee Lee

Seth: Sethy

Collin: Lin

Victoria: Vickie

James: Jamie

Laurent: Laur’

Aro: No (insert heart emoji)

Marcus: Mark

Jane: Plain

Alec: Al

Bree: Baby Bree (mostly just Baby)

Also, I find it hard to believe that the Cullens stuck to America while moving around so much, so this is where I think all of them are from:

Esme: Caribbean

Carlisle: Britain

Jasper: America

Emmett: Canada

Edward: Italy

Alice: Wales

Rosalie: France

ALSO throughout the entirety of the series it’s probably going to have more Edward and Bella moments then what was written, since this is a story about their romance, I just thought I’d put in other stuff and mention it since the romance scenes would be pretty obvious.

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Hell Froze Over - Pt.1

The Good (and Fast) Samaritan

Type: mini-series to a series (part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4), Avenger!reader AU.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2750

Summary: There’s a new enhanced on a scene, showing up at places of the Avengers’ fights. She’s fast. Really, really fast. And Wanda can’t read her mind.

So far, she has been helping. But surely it’s only a matter of time before she switches switch sides – otherwise she would have approached you instead of speeding away.

You had a problem. And you needed a solution.

Warnings: violence and blood, mention of multiple characters’ death (the Snap), a bit of inuendo and language… oh and extreme fluff

A/N: This part of Melting Hearts’ verse follows after everyone was brought after the Snap. The majority of the story was written after A:IW, soooo, there are no references to Endgame and there’s canon divergence. They somehow saved them all, without building a damn time machine and all that. Just run with it ;)

Previous part of the series II Story masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────

Aliens.

Why was it always aliens?

And extremely annoying ones on top of that.

They had freaking tentacles – or multiple limbs, whatever they called it. The thing was, they had four ‘arms’, which made them incredibly handful, pun definitely intended. And what was making it worse? Once you cut off one limb, two grew in its place.

More than once during the fight, in which New Yorkers were being terrorized again, you wondered if these particular creatures, aka Tentacles, had been on Earth before, possibly meeting Hydra. You couldn’t imagine the Nazis’ organization getting the inspiration for their motto anywhere else, Greek myths be damned.

Apparently, these aliens loved going after Captain America too. Then again, they generally didn’t seem to be fond of the group of superhumans standing in their way of invading this planet, so perhaps Steve was not special in that respect.

Pinning two Tentacles to a wall by spray of thick icicles, you allowed yourself to breathe in after a long time. If you were being honest, you wouldn’t mind if Tentacles were the ones whose population would stay with the half of them erased from existence by Thanos. Seriously. They were obviously dickheads.

Taking few more breaths, indulging the feeling of having time to do so, you scanned your surroundings; the fight was definitely going your way, the aliens falling one after another, but the damage to the area was immense. It was a miracle no building had collapsed yet, but you had a hunch it wouldn’t take long. Wanda was helping with removing the civilians out of the harm’s way with her mental powers, but several blocks had been hit. You hadn’t had your eyes on her for a while now.

Hearing a roar by your right, you were immediately back to the highest alert. Tentacle no.39 was not coming your way though; it went after Natasha. You sent an icicle right through the creature’s belly, killing it at instant. Nat just nodded your way and threw herself back into the fight. You did the same.

Your whole body hurt, burning with exhaustion, but you knew you had to keep going. Even when a warning pinch bit the base of your spine; you were getting really fed up with this whole fail-safe trigger, because in moments like this, you simply couldn’t allow yourself to stop fighting in order to be fine. You were supposed to push yourself to your very limits, because lives were at stake.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have a choice.

You slowed down a little, trying to stay closer to Steve who was the nearest. He must have caught up on you pulling back, because he stated fighting with more ferocity – one you weren’t sure where he got from.

You noticed he didn’t have his helmet anymore and it made you bite the bullet and throw yourself back into the fight despite knowing the pain would only grow with time and at one point, it would paralyze you. But Steve had lost his fucking helmet again and he had the armour for reason goddammit!

And then, all of sudden, the battle was over. Car alarms blared all around you, smoke rising to the sky, flames licking anything they reached; you did your best to put the fire out. It was why you didn’t notice it at first – the loud creak of metal tens feet away, but then the concrete started screaming, just like the people.

You snapped your head that way, only to see a restaurant collapsing onto itself.

With people still in it.

You acted on instinct, sending the thickest layer of ice you could summon to slow down the falling debris, seeing a flush of red energy heading the same way. You felt the crushing weight of the building almost on your shoulders.

And the very same moment, you could also see that in a blink, there were no people underneath it.

They were gone; more specifically, several feet nearby, staring as incredulously as you were. Feeling unbearable sting in your back, you allowed yourself to let go, Wanda following your example.

Unlike the civilians, you knew all too well what happened. But your eyelids felt too heavy and you were too tired to be annoyed; in fact, you were grateful, because you didn’t know how long you would have been able to hold the improvised barrier.

You mentally thanked the girl who got all the people out in what seemed like a split second.

Dark spots danced in front of your eyes, your knees getting wobbly. The world threated to sway out of its place and you knew you were about to fold like a house of cards, only to wake up seconds later. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you didn’t hit the ground. Strong arms enwrapped you securely, pulling you to your Captain’s chest, supporting you as much as you needed. You closed your eyes and breathed through the dizziness.

“Hey, it’s okay, I got you. It’s over, you can rest. But stay with me, alright?” Steve’s voice reached you from a terrible distance, slowly getting closer as you were gradually regaining your strength. The vibrations of his words caressed your own torso and you blinked your eyes open. “There you go, Snowflake. Let’s wrap it up here, okay?”

You just nodded, looking up to his face gratefully. He gave you a small smile in acknowledgement of your wordless ‘thank you for not letting me fall’.

“She was here again,” you mumbled and Steve grimaced as he cautiously let you off his embrace.

“Yeah. I know.”

────── ·❆· ──────

You all entered the conference room slowly, some of you barely standing on your feet. It was a miracle you didn’t have to drag each other in here. After a long time of scrunching your nose at it, you reached for the energizing drink specially designed for you just like everyone else.

While no one had suffered a serious injury – serious on the Avengers’ scale, things like the cut on Steve’s forehead didn’t count –, you were all ready to just have a shower and go to bed. But no. Being an Avenger meant you couldn’t. It meant that if the work wasn’t finished, you couldn’t get rest.

You dropped into one of the comfy chairs, Steve’s body making a muffled thud as he chose the one next to you. If even Captain America was dead on his feet, things were bad.

You pushed yourself up, sitting up straight to inspect the gash on his smooth skin. It was already healing and you knew he had it treated (by you, at least), but the drying bloody line on his head just wouldn’t let you relax.

Your fingertips carefully brushed alongside it, wary of not applying any pressure. Steve smiled at you faintly.

“Snowflake, it’s okay.”

His hand caught your wrist tenderly, pulling it away.

“How did you manage to get it anyway? How did you lose your helmet again?” you questioned. He bit his lip and looked almost apologetically. Naturally, that had you frowning. “Steve-“

“He was getting too close to--- to them, alright? I admit I didn’t quite see the other three coming-“

You gritted your teeth, torn between admiring his heroics as he defended the civilians and clipping round his ear for having a tunnel-like vision and not looking around properly before jumping to the rescue.

In the end, you just huffed, letting your hand slip from his grasp.

You carefully eyed the rest of the team, glad you found Wanda mothering Vision and Bruce checking Natasha once again, while Tony, Sam and Clint were on the phone. It put a smile on your face as you saw Bucky fumbling with his phone as well – you knew he had started seeing a woman from accounting here and now he was probably wondering if he should let her know he was fine.

“We make a good team. Taking minor risks is worth it,” Steve whispered, straightening in his chair in favour of dropping a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes contentedly at the pure and innocent display of affection.

When his lips lingered, his hand brushing your jaw and he inhaled the smell of your shampoo – if there was any smell left after the fight and debris flying around –, his breath faltering, a realization dawned to you.

He hadn’t lost his helmet when defending some civilians, had he?

Steve wouldn’t let himself to be distracted enough to be jumped when protecting civilians. Never. He only lost his focus when protecting the people he loved. Mainly the ones he had lost before, in the Snap or otherwise; if he could help it, his gaze never left you on the battlefield, simply too scared you would disappear in a blink of an eye. He might be getting less anxious about it lately, but it was always in the back of his mind; having your loved ones wiped off by a snap of fingers and seeing them fall to ashes did that to a person.

Not that you would know – you were among the ones who disappeared.

But Steve knew. He saw it happen to you, Bucky, Sam…. And he could only watch. Nothing he could do stop it. You still remembered the burn of in the base of your spine as your powers fought to freeze the process of your body disintegrating, watching in horror as many of your friends did – and that you were about to meet the same fate. Just as helpless as Steve was.

“…I’m just stalling, Steve. I know it and you know it too. I should— I should let go-“

“No! No, Snowflake, you stay and fight-“ he practically growled, gripping your wrists with enough strength to bruise them.

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered in response, feeling your whole body trembling in both exertion and fear. You didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want this to be your end.

The wild haunted look in Steve’s eye only made you shudder further, a painful twist to your gut.

“No-“

“Please, say it back,” you pleaded, swallowing your tears and the scream that was threatening to erupt from your throat. The burn, fuck, the burn… you couldn’t hold it any longer.

“NO! You fight this!”

Lips trembling, you understood you wouldn’t get the last love declaration you craved. You closed your eyes.

“Goodbye, Steve.”

“NO!” he yelled, pulling you to him, bodies aligned as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you impossibly close. “You--- sweetheart, please. I love you. I can’t-“

“Thank you,” you sobbed, breathing in his scent, feeling the coarse material of his worn uniform, revelling in the warmth of his touch… and you let go.

The last thing you heard was him, choking on a desperate shriek of your name.

The memory and the sheer wonder about what it must have been like for him almost brought tears into your eyes. Again.

Could you really be mad at him for being reckless?

“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered, hearing his breath hitch. You opened your eyes, only to see his resigned ones as he guesses you figured out the truth.

“No ‘you idiot’, huh?”

“No. Not this time. I can see you’re fine. You’re allowed to look out for me as long as you walk away relatively unharmed.”

“Lucky me,” he murmured and kissed you lightly on your lips, tasting after the sickeningly sweet energy drink. You couldn’t say you minded.

“I love you, Steve. I care for you too. Nothing wrong with that,” you hummed lovingly, gazing into his eyes, the rest of the world be damned. “So yeah. Thank you.”

His blues got their vivid spark back, the corners of his lips rising inconspicuously. “Always. And I love you too.”

“You two are sickening,” Bucky noted close to your ear and you honest to god yelped, almost falling off your chair.

Bucky receded with silent laugh and while you clutched at your chest, your heart too frantic in your ribcage, you noticed Steve rolled his eyes at his friend fondly.

“Lefty here has a point,” Tony hummed, making you huff and turn to the big screen as it lit up with news feed.

There were already so many images and videos on the internet that it was scary. Why people hunted down good shots instead of running away?

Unsurprisingly, Tony froze the frame in which a blur of dark blue could be seen. Hint: it was neither you nor Steve in his stealth suit.

No. It was the enhanced girl. The fast one. The one you knew too little about to your comfort.

“Hate to say it, but things could have got ugly without the Rush-girl rushing in,” Tony announced and you scoffed, mainly because you felt like he was nudging your conscience.

It felt like he was blaming you, seeing you wouldn’t have been able to hold the falling debris for long enough. You were sure Tony wouldn’t blame you, since he knew all too well you simply couldn’t beat it; after all he had been the one to install your fail-safe, preventing you hurting yourself. But you also knew he didn’t like the thought of anyone else getting hurt because of it either.

The thing was it always went like this with this enhanced girl. She would show up, help the Avengers and then puff, she was gone. No trace. Except for the people she saved. The ones you might have failed to save unless she had come.

You forced yourself to drift away from the dark thoughts.

“Tony, your nicknames are getting more ridiculous with each try,” you remarked, earning a few hums in agreement from around the table.

“I can go back to naming you if you want… Popsicle. I bet Cap here got the memo and he loves to lick and s-”

“Stark!” Steve lashed out at him, his cheeks getting an unhealthy shade of red. You choked on your own spit.

You were pretty happy with Tony somewhat reconciling with Steve (and you and others), okay, but his jokes were sometimes too much. He really was pushing it.

“Go to hell, Metalbrain,” you muttered under your breath, feeling your ears burning.

Also, yes. Yes, Steve got the memo. So did you. But you didn’t need to talk about it in front of everyone, thank you very much.

“Cute blush you have here. I hit the nail on the head, eh?” Tony continued, earning a murderous glare from Steve, who certainly was sporting a remarkable blush.

“Tony!” you called out, not less horrified than your significant other.

“Trust the advice of the elder – biologically older anyway. Hate to break it to you, but that’s not how you make a kid. Then again maybe that’s the point-“

“Tony, shut your metal mouth or I swear to god I will tell Pepper you’re being a pervert.”

A look of pure horror appeared on his face and you couldn’t help but smile smugly. This always worked.

The thing was Tony would know how to get a girl pregnant; Pepper Potts lived to tell the tale. She was in her twenty-seventh week, after all; and her hormones were misbehaving. Big time. Her emotions were like on a roller-coaster lately and no one with a shred of brain wanted to be on her bad side, ever, let alone now.

Needless to mention Pepper Potts was a strong woman, capable of handling herself, being in control. She wasn’t quite in control of herself now and what was even worse, she always had been the more rational part of the Stark and Potts-Stark duo, keeping Tony’s impulsiveness in check. Once again, not now. And it was driving her insane.

So yeah, threatening Tony with snitching him to Pepper always worked these days. It was even mean of you. Then again, Tony was being extremely pervert today, venting his frustration on you and you did not like it at all.

“Ouch. Low blow, Popsicle, low blow,” Tony said darkly, before his expression turned gleeful again. “See what I did there with the blow--- never mind, I have a place to be. Bye, kids!”

Tony took his abrupt escape, disappearing from the room, and you sighed heavily. You massaged the bridge of your nose, feeling your face burning with embarrassment. The rest of the team pretended not to watch you highly amused.

“He’s an actual infant— no, he’s worse,” you stated, your voice a little too high-pitched.

“That’s hardly any news. Now, can we pay attention to the actual problem?” Natasha interjected, switching back to professional mood.

“Sure. Let’s talk more about the Rush-girl,” Clint hummed, a smirk on his lips.

A collective groan was the answer, but you did start working.

────── ·❆· ──────

Part 2

────── ·❆· ──────

There we go!

The first chapter of the last part of Melting Hearts. Hopefully, I will make it worth it your attention ;)

Thank you for reading! Happy Sunday :-*

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #mcu #marvel #avenger reader #avangers fanfiction #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #avengers #melting hearts series #melting hearts #hell froze over #anika ann

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ginevranights · 4 years ago

Text

The Rose

Pairing: Neal Caffrey x Female! Reader

Co-writer: @bathed-in-lilac

Summary: Early in his career as a con man, Neal Caffery met a woman who went by the name ‘Victoria Rose’ Aka Y/N L/N. Soon after, he realises she’s also a con artist and he falls for her...hard. However, Y/N seems to be the only one of them who realises that maybe people in her profession don’t get to find love.

A/N: So...if your name's Victoria Rose 1) cool name! 2) for the sake of this fanfic you can imagine a different first name used...I guess Grace. Anyway… this was co-written by the wonderful bathed-in-lilac and honestly I could not have written this without her. She literally wrote everything I got stuck on and helped me develop my ideas. So thank you so much!

Warnings: Spoiler for White Collar I guess. It has been out for over 10 years now.

Words: 2800

--------------- & ---------------

{Paris-----&-----2000}

Y/N L/N was not a name that one would find on the invite list and yet here she was, standing on the balcony of an engagement party she wasn’t invited to, staring out over Paris. She was wearing a simple dress, appropriate for the occasion, and had jewellery that screamed ‘I have money!’ Whether the jewellery was actually expensive was another matter…

She had gotten into the party using the name ‘Victoria Rose’. Victoria was a distant family member of the future groom and she ran a successful flower business in cities like London, New York and - of course - Paris. Y/N L/N, however, was a con artist. And a good one at that.

“You’re not a fan of choreographed dances?” Y/N turns around and is faced with gorgeous blue eyes that belong to a handsome brunette. Y/N blinks slightly but takes a sip of her drink.

“You’d think a couple with such impeccable wine taste would know that choreographed dances are cheesy and tacky.”

“Point taken,” the man nods and stands next to her, putting a hand out in greeting. “Nick Halden.”

“Victoria Rose,” ‘Nick’ places a gentle kiss to Y/N’s palm and she smiles slightly “such a gentleman.”

“Are you on the bride or groom’s side?”

“Groom’s,” Y/N lies “I’m assuming you’re on the bride’s side?”

“Yeah,” ‘Nick’ nods. “I’m happy for her, it seems like he’s a good one. I mean, by the looks of that ring, she probably won’t have to work another day in her life. I mean, they have to keep that thing in a safe. It probably costs a fortune.” Y/N inwardly smirks, she knew this tactic, it seemed Nick Halden may be someone of the same profession. It was time to change the subject.

“Who needs a big flashy ring when you’re in love?” Y/N asks with a small smile “I mean did Romeo and Juliet give each other anything fancy? No. And their love story is famously one of the best. It was tragic, yes. But it was… beautiful in a way.”

“You sound like you haven’t found your love story yet…”

“No… no I haven't and I don’t think I will. My job involves me moving around a lot and it’s hard to find someone. Actually...I don’t even really know if I want someone,”

“Everyone wants love… in one way or another. Maybe you just need to find someone who’ll fit your lifestyle,” ‘Nick’ says slowly, maintaining eye contact with Y/N.

“Hm, and on that note, I need more wine,” she waves her empty glass and heads back inside, sparing a glance at the man she was never going to see again. It was a polite conversation that would go nowhere. She was more prepared; she was taking the ring tonight and he didn’t have a clue where it was even stored.

{Neal’s hotel-----&-----Later that night}

Later that night, Neal Caffery and Y/N L/N returned to their respective hotels, one with a two and a half million-euro engagement ring, the other an anxious expression as he prepared to tell his co-conspirator that the ring was already gone when he got there.

“How did this happen?!” Neal was silent as Mozzie stared down at him. “Okay, start over. Tell me everything you did. Somebody else must have known what you were going to do and got there before you.”

“I don’t know what happened, Mozz. I barely talked to anybody there. The only person I properly talked to was some woman for a couple of minutes and she didn’t seem like a threat.”

“Neal…” Mozzie sighed and pinched his nose, clearly exasperated. “What was her name?”

“It was Victoria something…like the queen, y’know? She was pretty enough to be royalty, and she said she was related to the groom -”

“Neal, I don’t care. I need her name,” Neal takes a moment. He remembered a flower…

“Oh! Yeah, I think her name was Victoria Rose.”

“Victoria Rose? Victoria Rose?! That’s who you chose to talk to?!”

“Yes Mozz! What’s so important about her?”

“Neal you’re an idiot.”

“What, why? What did I do? It’s not my fault somebody else got to the ring first.”

“Well, seeing as you were talking to Victoria Rose it sort of is your fault.”

“Mozzie, I still have no idea who that is. Besides, I’m sure we can find another ring, expensive engagement rings aren't that rare,”

“Neal...you just met one of the best con artists. To the criminal world, she’s a myth, to the feds, she doesn’t even exist,” Mozzie muttered, eyes narrowed as he looked in Neal’s direction. “Nobody even knows her real name.”

“Oh really?” Neal tilted his head curiously, the words clearly not having the effect that Mozzie wanted them to. Instead, Neal let a faint smirk appear on his face “That’s kinda-”

“Nope… nope, I don’t want to hear it.”.

{Edinburgh-----&-----2000}

Y/N didn’t know the people who threw the party, but she did know some fellow...colleagues she had to speak to. Although, that business was over quickly and she had time to mingle. She had grabbed another glass of champagne when he had come up to her “I love your alleged work,”

“You didn’t even know who I was a few months ago,”

“That’s a compliment to you,” Y/N had looked into those blue eyes again and decided she could stay to chat. He’d introduced himself properly and she’d been shocked that this was who her New York contacts were talking about - Mozzie’s new partner. She’d given him her current allies and he’d raised an eyebrow. However, that didn't stop them from talking for hours and when the countdown started, Y/N had let him place a gentle kiss to her lips before disappearing… it was tradition.

{Italy-----&-----2001}

When Y/N snuck into a gallery that night in Italy, she had definitely not expected to see Neal standing there - she was always shocked when he appeared. He had been entirely unaware of her presence when she first made her way into the main room, instead he was focused entirely on the gallery’s main exhibit: the chandelier. Y/N had decided to change that, slipping on a faint smile as she made her way toward where he was standing. She tapped him on the shoulder, relishing in the amusement she felt when he jumped. He had turned around and, for some reason, he seemed to smile when he saw that it was her. It was almost as though he was happy.

“Good evening, Mr. Halden,” she had said, a sly smile on her face. “It is still Halden, isn’t it?”

There had been no verbal response, simply a faint hum and a nod of his head. She had watched him, an amused expression on her face as his eyes met hers. Whilst Y/N was wondering if he was also here to check the gallery's security, he was distracted by her eyes. Given that information, it was no surprise when he turned and fell face first into the chandelier on display. It had tumbled to the ground with a loud crash and, before she could even think about what she was doing, Y/N had grabbed Neal by the hand and tugged him toward the door. That night they both got away and, when Neal kissed Y/N’s cheek in thanks, nobody would have known about the heat rapidly rising up her body.

{Monte Carlo-----&-----2002}

The next time they met, Neal was the shocked one. He had been in the middle of replacing a painting that had just been delivered to the museum with his own forgery when Y/N had appeared out of nowhere. She was dressed like any female thief would be and was obviously also surprised to see him nicking a painting. She’d raised an eyebrow and made some confusing hand gestures, to which he had responded with even more gestures. Neal couldn’t believe it was the ‘myth’ con artist Mozzie had named ‘The Rose’ who just sighed and left the gallery. She’d let him take the actual painting with no fuss. She could’ve gone to the police and gotten the competition out of the way. Instead, he got a free drink at the bar later that night and a note saying he should think about making some original artwork. Neal had realised there and then, he may have a little crush on ‘The Rose’.

{London-----&-----2003}

After that night, Neal and Y/N met frequently at museums, parties, galas, basically anywhere with anything of any value inside. And at some point, they stopped meeting at those places and started meeting at hotels instead. Hotels where they'd get drunk and stumble into bed, clothes covering the floor. Hotels where they'd wake up wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about nothing and everything at once. But still… Neal didn’t know her real name.

That seemed like centuries ago now though, as they lay in their latest hotel bed. It was early morning, the light from the sun just barely managing to light up the room with its warm golden glow. It was that golden sunlight that ended up waking up the couple that was still tangled in each other’s arms. Neal woke up first, slowly blinking his eyes open and then glancing down at Y/N who was starting to wake up. She made a faint humming sound as she rested her head against Neal’s chest and then pressed gentle kisses to the side of his neck. He smiled at her, one hand beginning to gently card through her hair. When she mumbled good morning to him, he could feel her words warm against his skin.

There was something about the situation that just felt so right. It was almost as if it had been designed this way. They were supposed to work perfectly together. Still holding her close to his chest, Neal leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. He thought about how wonderful it would be if he could just stay here forever. If only things could be that easy. He knew that maybe their lives were just meant to be complicated. It almost seemed fitting that Romeo and Juliet had been the first thing they talked about.

“I’ve been thinking…” Neal starts, testing his voice out for the day

“Hmm, that’s never good,” Y/N responds quickly, her voice croaky as she snuggles her head further into his chest.

“When we met... you mentioned Romeo and Juliet, but you never told me if you were a fan of Shakespeare.”

“No, it was just the first example I could think of and a good excuse to change the subject,” Y/N laughs slightly.

“I think you’re lying. Or I think that deep down you want something like that; you like romance.”

“Do I? Well then maybe you should step it up a bit because this is not the beautiful love story idea I had that night.”

“It could be,” he whispered slowly. “We could move to Paris. I mean, we could go right now - run away. Take the train on the Eurotunnel across to France and ignore everything and everyone.”

“That’s a nice dream to have, but that’s all it is, isn’t it? A dream? We can’t actually have that.”

“But why not? What’s stopping us?”

“I… I just can’t. I’m sorry,” she whispered, a regretful expression on her face.

“At least tell me your name. Please?”

“Let’s just go with Juliet....”

{2009-----&-----2012}

Things became more complicated after Neal got sent to prison. However, there was still something pulling them together - an unexplainable force. Y/N kept her distance for a time, but she couldn’t keep herself from meeting with him once she had heard about Kate. She was worried about him. She knew him well enough to realize that he needed somebody to check up on him. That’s the only reason she was going: to make sure he was okay. She wasn’t there to get back together with him because she knew she didn’t have the energy to try. All she wanted was to make sure he was okay so that she could stop worrying and move on with her life.

Of course, things didn’t go the way Y/N had hoped. Neal had charmed her the moment she saw him in one of those damn suits and soon, she was finding herself meeting up with him again, and again...and again. She couldn’t remove herself from the situation. She knew Neal worked for the FBI now and one wrong move could destroy her, yet she was always going back to him.

The restaurant Neal chose looked lovely that night. Y/N had been sent a rather formal invite and she realised immediately that Neal had told the owners it was a special occasion. Was it going to be? The table had been set and a vase of roses served as the centrepiece. The two had sat down to talk and Neal’s reason for inviting her over was soon made clear. He wanted her to stay.

Of course, they’d started with small talk. They spoke about Y/N’s hotel, the weather along with traffic and strangely the latest art thefts. But soon, the topic moved to the mornings when the two would lay in different beds and talk about their future. When Neal would suggest they fly to Paris and settle down.

“I know it may not be Paris...but what if you moved here. What if we spent more than a night together?” Y/N hadn’t known how to respond, but she let him talk, she let him fantasize. Neal seemed to have everything planned out, he wanted her to move to New York, he wanted her to settle down with him and the way he spoke about it… made sure that Y/N could never refuse.

She couldn’t stop herself from nodding and letting herself get lost in the dream Neal was talking about. Maybe she could actually move to New York and forget about her old life. No one knew who she was, she could tell Neal her real name and she could get a job, an actual legal job.

Once Neal was sure Y/N had agreed, he started rambling, an excited look taking over his face whilst he started explaining what their life was and could be like. He’d told her about his work, about his colleagues and his newfound family. Y/N could barely believe that he was talking about the same Peter who had hunted him across the globe for years.

Eventually the night had ended and the two parted ways yet again. Neal had offered to take her back to his place, but Y/N had laughed slightly and declined. Neal being Neal was prepared for this, and so he brought out the rose which was on the centre of their table and tucked it behind her ear. Y/N blushed and quickly left, kissing Neal briefly before setting down the street smiling.

Her mood was quickly ruined though. She’d stopped to quickly read through the news headlines on the day’s papers - as one does when you know many criminals. One had caught her eye and as she read the article, she realised that the crew that had approached her a few days ago with a job, had been arrested by ‘Peter Burke and his criminal consultant’. She’d almost taken that job…

Now in a panic, she turned around and saw Neal still there, smiling fondly as he waved. She ignored him though and rushed off, disappearing into the nightlife of New York.

It was dangerous being around him, Y/N had always known that but when she had sat at that table and listened to him talk so fondly about Special Agent Peter Burke, she realised he had grown comfortable with his life. Everything she had, everything she had worked so hard for could be taken away just because of Neal Caffrey. He had too much power over her and she knew that the moment she had blindly agreed to moving to New York. And so, after that dinner she decided it was time, time to say goodbye to him. She’d made promises she knew she could never keep. After all, she was a con artist, and perhaps the greatest con she ever pulled was letting herself believe that her and Neal could be happy.

#neal caffrey x reader #white collar x reader #neal caffrey imagine #white collar imagine #neal caffrey fanfiction #white collar fanfiction #white collar #neal caffrey

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onlyhereforangst · 4 years ago

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WWR

The Talk™️

lololol just kidding sorry Laura I love you here’s the real thing just in time 😘😘

We start with Ellie being veeeeery sus 👀 checking out Eastern Europe and the various countries, I mean yes there are plenty of nice, beautiful places there but this is a procedural aka obviously that area can only be shady. I also love that Nick came up silently and waited, watched what she was doing very intently, before announcing his presence. Almost like he’s been suspecting something is up with her for a little while now and seized on this perfect opportunity to do a little digging. But at the same time he doesn’t let it go on too long, and he almost gives her an out- he doesn’t accuse her of being shady AF, instead he’s like oh clearly she’s planning a trip because she’s always talked about loving Eastern Europe not the Bahamas like we’d just gotten jealous over a year ago…right, Ellie? A trip? And then her response ooo girl. She starts to get uber defensive and then realizes that oh wait, he handed me an out on a silver platter so yeah let me take it real quick. AND HE DOESN’T CALL HER ON IT. That’s the real good stuff in this scene- he’s a trained federal agent with years of undercover work, he can tell when someone is outright lying *especially* when that someone is Ellie. So he takes her defensive hesitation and than blatant lie and rolls with it. Beeeecause he trusts her. He trusts her to tell him when she’s ready. He saw how hurt she got when he kept bothering her after the kidnapping, and also saw her tell him once she was ready to. So yeah, he gets it now. He may be seriously concerned for her underneath that joking exterior, but he trusts her to tell him when the time is right, and also likely feels she wouldn’t keep anything huge huge from him. *cue getting ready for heartbreak in the finale it’s fine everything is fine*

Of course we move on to the flirty stuff because we avoid serious talk here 🙄 Ellie still sus though don’t get it wrong, shutting that laptop real quick when he rounds the corner taking no further chances. And her crossing her arms while he offends her choice of “vacation” hahaha she’s so obvious, honey you got the hots for him it’s ok. Little middle school flirting like oh yeah you can do better? Prove it jerk. And Niiiiiick 🥵 I wish you could see the screenshot I’m paused on right now after he says it depends on who he’s going with before he asks her who she’s going with because DAMN that look. He can think of one (1) person and one person only who he’d go on a trip with. Her little smirk back before she decides to throw all pretense to the wayside and says fuck it I don’t care that we’re in the bullpen out in the open lemme flirt with you ~*Agent Torres*~ AND HE’S LIKE TWO CAN PLAY AGENT BISHOP PLEASE INVITE ME ON YOUR TRIP THAT I KNOW DOESN’T EXIST BUT I’D LIKE TO KNOW I’D BE INVITED IF IT DID. And please her giddy smile afterwards and then she goes from leaning back in her chair to leaning forward towards him because these two are absolutely drawn to each other bitches and I can’t get enough of them and their little playful smiles and body language. AND NEITHER CAN JIMMY.

Jimmy is the ellick fandom. Because yes, keep going this is ✨just delightful✨ and I never want it to stop unless you’re kissing. Thank you. And pleeeeease them stumbling over their words when they realized they’ve been caught I CANT. They both look *so* uncomfortable and it’s hilarious, and then Ellie can’t help but laugh at Nick’s dumb joke making fun of Jimmy because it’s her man and he’s so *funny*.

Bring us to Jimmy redeeming himself. But also yes this just confirms to me that he told Nick what he needed to hear back when he said zero chemistry. And now Jimmy’s observed silently, see where Nick has come in the last year and everything the two have been through and knows he ready to hear it for real. Well Jimmy was ready a while ago for them to move it along so yeah he’s like where’s my spoon I’m gonna STIR THIS POT. And then it is born, the slogan of the episode, the point of the WWR (please don’t have PTSD Laura), The Talk™️. Nick’s face oooo man, he initially tries to deflect like no we aren’t talking about that cozy scene nuh uh and then it turns into his worst nightmare- being called out by James Palmer of all people with Ellie literally five feet away. (ALSO MCGEE IS LITERALLY A FOOT BEHIND THEM. He 1000% heard this entire conversation if Ellie heard it. Bro better not try to deny a single thing later I’m watching you sir 👀) Nick’s expression is screaming what the fuck shut UP Jimmy this can’t possibly be happening so let me try to joke and deflect again (small smile because it was still a little funny) and then back to what the fuck he’s undeterred shit shit shit oh thank god McGee has started talking yes we have a goddamn huge problem autopsy gremlin won’t take the damn hint.

And woooooow the first time I’ve seen Nick at his desk in a while 👀👀 he said shit people are on to me let me put ✨space✨ in between us for like five seconds while we still shoot each other cute smiles.

Oooooooh now we here for the evisceration. The Here Lies James Palmer moment of the episode. Catch me dYING in the club, not crying. Because holy shit Ellie this was not only brutal and Brian absolutely killed it during this scene with his reactions to Ellie ripping him apart. His “oh…Oh…oooh.” Had me cackling. And Ellie you are the poster child of defensive, pulling out all the stops. Let me deny everything, let me then be a slight hypocrite because people shouldn’t be talking about me (because I’m terrified about considering broaching that topic too) but I can talk about Gibbs and Sloane previously, and then also like sort of admitting to it by asking Jimmy what people think is going on because that’s the question she would *love* to know the answer to but hasn’t gotten yet. All the while cue me laughing hysterically at jimmy, top tier scene right here lets be honest. Because then Kasie comes in and it’s just perfect 🤣🤣🤣 this was his sister, Painful. Couldn’t have said it better myself Kasie 😭💀

Lol at McGee telling Ellie not to tell Nick he was right about it being a coincidence 😂

HOW CLOSE DO WE NEED TO STAND TOGETHER Y’ALL. HOW CLOSE. THERE’S A WHOLE GODDAMN BULLPEN. Remember when I said Nick wanted space for 5 whole seconds, yeah this is why. They’re straight magnets - drawn together indubitably 👀

Quick detour for the continued storyline of sus!Ellie and it makes me even more and more excited for the finaleeeeee. Because honey why do you know it takes 10 pounds of pressure to rip a trachea out and yes we all know it’s Odette and I can’t wait for the aaaaaangst. Also Kasie always coming in clutch with the humor, I live for it. “No you right I got nothing” 🤣🤣

Once again, Nick forgot about his desk, it was short-lived wasn’t it? 😅

Now to another fun scene, and I feel like there’s a little double meaning to when Nick talks to Ellie about Phineas going through a lot this year, “more than most of us, which is saying a lot this year” - obviously covid but also maybe a callback to the kidnapping/jail cell stuff they dealt with?? Maybe?? Anyways, them being so awkward cute together because there’s a slight lull in the case so they revert back to their middle school selves, “so” “so…” I can’t with them omg. And then, and THEN of the two to bring it up, it’s Nick!!!! Yes!!! The GROWTH. This man used to be so emotionally closed off and now he, HE is bringing up The Talk™️ and he almost chickens out, he almost says haha you’re right we don’t have to have The Talk™️ after Ellie has a minor freakout because good god this girl is on *edge*. Her mind has probably been going a mile a minute the second she heard Jimmy call them out at the crime scene because she’s been living in blissful ignorance the past months/year whatever and now everything is smacking her in the face. But Nick, ugh I love the growth. He brushes it off and then has a moment where his face is like, no, no I’m not a wuss and he admits that yes he’s thought about it (the way he pauses when he says “not that it hasn’t been on my mind…us…” and I’m like yeah you two as a couple has been on your mind hasn’t it Nick 👀) and yes I want to have The Talk™️ with you Ellie Bishop. And not only does he admit this he’s also the one that’s like ok yeah cool BUT WHEN. Let’s nail this down please, I need it in my planner asap. And then she gets all giggly again “I don’t know when do *you* think?” Like omg I’m literally in middle school again. They’re so fucking cute and awkward it’s precious. Especially when they have to end their conversation and suddenly act normal when talking to McGee 😅😍 then they go separate ways and the look Ellie shoots Nick ahhhhhhh it’s almost like a let’s table this but also shit we really did half open that can of worms in the middle of a work day. Nick sighs and looks briefly to the sky like shit what did I do in a good way and bad way haha.

Back to Kasie with the ✨iconic✨ lines I love herrrr. Ellie being sus again with being resistant to change. I can’t decide if she’s not only talking about the possibility of dating Nick (once again defensive because Kasie about came for her throat hahahah) but also maybe about whatever is going to go down with Odette 👀👀

HERE WE ARE. THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR. Back to being cute little awkward idiots in love that need to have The Talk™️. I mean come on they’re trying so hard to avoid the actual talk and just dancing around it “so” “so” “talk a roo” “talk a reeno” excuse me what the fuck are you saying just SAY IT. And Nick is still ready and rearing to go but also wants to respect Ellie and give her space if needed so he offers to just agree The Talk™️ needs to be had. And of course she counters with “need is a strong word” because damn this girl is spiraling. She’s so terrified of the outcome of this talk she wants to deny it needs to exist but still she can’t help it at the end of the day. And Nick is still like ok BUT WHEN. I WANT TO TELL YOU I LOVE YOU AFTER YOU TELL ME YOU LOVE ME. SO LIKE WHEN ELLIE WHEN. And he once again plays off her deflection (a theme of this episode) with yeah yeah they’re super tired not at all wired just thinking about this talk that is at the tip of his tongue. At least Ellie is finally seeing the light and realizes that they should promise to have The Talk™️ but as she sits there staring at the elevator in front of her she’s like oh fuck, it can’t be soon can it. Fuck fuck fuck I can’t hold this in longer, we can’t keep dancing around it. fuck. So when Nick once again tries to press her to nail down a time she’s like well fuck it let’s do this shit now. Then she can’t realized that shit I actually said it, I actually said that. I said we should have The Talk™️ now. And Nick’s genuine surprise mirrors hers because she’s been the one half-denying The Talk™️ all day and now she wants to do this right here right now??? But at the same time he’s got a little smile to his face because he loves the idea of her being on board and finally getting this done. Finally getting to hear how she feels.

So they walk into the elevator with a MUCH better vibe than the last time they walked in all serious at night (looking at you dumb Nick with Elena) but I guess the Elena Elevator Talk walked so the Ellie Elevator Talk could run 👀

And Nick while yes he’s ready for this shit to finally happen he’s still vulnerable, still terrified of opening himself up because he’s seen his dad (recently) and how commitment and relationships run in the family 🙄 plus this is all very new to him outside of Sofia and this is definitely not new to Ellie (Jake, qasim). He needs to hear she’s all-in too, needs to know he hasn’t built something up in his head for something serious when she views it as just a flirtation between friends. So he nervously says ladies first and while Ellie gives him a look of protest and wtf man, I think deep down she knows this is all so difficult for him despite how much he’s pushed it over the course of the day plus SHE is ready to get this out in the open. The moment she decided to stop denying and spiraling she went full force head on let’s talk about us. She hedges for a second and Nick continues to be nervous as she’s clearly building up her own nerve. Then she says probably the exact same moment he’s thinking of- or at least one of them- the jail cell. The defining, triggering moment that set this thing at full speed. He can’t believe she’s really saying the words, about to hear what he hopes is his feeling of that jail cell reciprocated in her words and his head turns quickly to look at her, unable to believe his ears that what he’s been dying for all along is going to happen. The Talk™️ is happening and damn it seems like it’s happening in the right direction.

Of course we have no damn clue what was said and I’m jaded and don’t think they’ll ever tell us- RIP the note. BUT I’m so glad it actually happened (and the cinematographic parallels of course), a STEP towards canon!Ellick I’m fine.

Now to see where they take this from here in the last two episodes and I can only hope an angst filled canon!Ellick because duh.

#ellick #ncis #torres x bishop #wwr #hopefully laura doesn't hate me #also this may be less in depth than previous because i was rushing whoops 😬#18x14

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Boys are raised to be men. Part 2 - Facts of life

Series Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: Things are different outside the city. When Bucky moves out of the city to live closer to his father’s best friend, Steve, he meets a peculiar girl from a strange family. She’s loved by everyone in the village and like him, she’s missing a limb. And, to Bucky’s surprise, she’s determined to make him part of her life.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 3368

Author’s note: I am not disabled and I couldn’t ever imagine what it’s like. If you have anything to not about that aspect of the story, please send me a message so I can fix possible mistakes or misunderstandings in upcoming chapters. Also, let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates.

The street the Parker/Stark family lives on is a lively one. Most people have known each other since birth with a few odd ones out. When Peter first came to their street at four years old he adored the small village. He liked the way the end of the street leads to a meadow, he liked the playground across the street, and he liked that his sister was there to show him everything. Though most get rebellious around their teen years, you liked showing your little brother around. You were always a peaceful girl and you enjoyed having someone to take care of. That’s also how your spring Saturday group came to be. When Peter started making friends, you took it upon yourself to supervise them at least once a week so they could play in the meadow. And when Tony came into the picture, you would drag him along. Your mother adored seeing the three of you together in the meadow as it seemed to put all of you at ease. You never stopped doing your spring Saturday group. Not even when you lost your mother. You found comfort in seeing the children play. You dragged Peter along in hopes it would cheer him up as well but it never did. He found other ways to mourn. The one thing that you did do together every single year, without fail, is watching the cow dance. Watching the cows come outside for the first time after winter and seeing them buck and gallop in joy is the most wonderful thing to see. It gives a hopeful feeling. After every winter comes spring.

‘Y/n! Two men are waiting outside! Hurry up,‘ Tony yells up the stairs. ‘Don’t yell! I’m almost done,‘ you yell back as you check yourself in the mirror. Your red lipstick looks decent enough, you have done it better but you have done it worse as well. Hair, well, it’s still a bird’s nest but at least it looks nicer than it normally does when you throw it up in a bun to keep it out of your face. Leg? Feels good, seems to be on right, and on full display under your navy wrap dress. You wanted to put on a pair of pants but opted for a dress to make sure Bucky wouldn’t feel like the odd one out. The door to your room flies open and Peter rushes in, jumping straight onto your bed. ‘So you’ve got two toy boys now?‘ ‘Bugger off Peter, I don’t have toy boys,‘ you snap back, hopping on your good leg as you try to put a sock on your metal leg. Not that you need it. It’s just the normality in it. ‘So whatcha think about James?‘ You roll your eyes and sit down on the bed with him to put a sock on your good leg. Hopping on your metal leg isn’t exactly the most comfortable. You ruffle a hand through his hair as you get back up. ‘Why are you interested? From what dad told me, you almost ran when you saw him.‘ Peter pushes your hand away and huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest like a little child. ‘Don’t blame me. The man looks like a damn gangster with his missing arm and all that.‘ You laugh. ‘I’ve got a missing leg. Am I a gangster now?‘ ‘He rides a motorcycle.‘ ‘First of all, I doubt that. Secondly, so do Thor and Natasha.‘ ‘They’re intimidating too,‘ he yelps, slightly offended at the notion that his own sister is not taking him seriously. ‘Thor couldn’t even hurt a fly if he tried. Okay, I’m off,‘ you chuckle, ‘don’t miss me too much.‘ You walk out of your room with Peter running after you. You close the door behind him while he stomps his way down the stairs. ‘Pick up your feet Peter!‘ ‘Yes miss Potts!‘ You come downstairs after him and do a little twirl for your dad and Pepper who are seated in the living room. ‘What do you think?‘ ‘Oh, you look stunning dear,‘ Pepper awes at you. Tony seems a little less satisfied. He’s used to your normal jeans and shirt combo that you had started to wear more and more in the past few years. Somewhere in his mind, he knows it’s to hide the leg but when you suddenly show this much skin he can’t help but be worried. Though, getting with someone was never a problem for you. Not even in your old jeans and worn-out t-shirts. ‘Yeah, I don’t like it. I don’t want another man sneaking out of my house in the morning, go change,‘ he tells you, gesturing you to go back upstairs. Pepper hits him in the chest with a surprised look on her face. ‘Tony, how dare you? She looks beautiful and I think she’s old enough to decide those things for herself,‘ Pepper defends her. ‘Thank you, Pepper,‘ you smile. ‘No problem dear.‘ ‘Fine,‘ Tony sighs, ‘but just go with the guy instead of bringing him here.‘ You laugh and wave them goodbye. You put on your tennis shoes in the hallway and your winter jacket as the nights can still get quite chilly. ‘You got your phone and keys,‘ Tony yells after you. You do a quick pat-down of your jacket. ‘I do!‘ ‘Have fun!‘ ‘Thanks, dad!‘ You open the door and skip over to the two men waiting for you. They don’t notice you being too deep in their conversation until you step between them and hook your arms around each of theirs. ‘Gents, ready to go?‘ ‘Always,‘ Sam grins at you. ‘Whatever you say doll,‘ Bucky smiles. He looks a lot more at ease in your opinion. You knew he would like Sam.

Crocker’s Folly is an old bar. The kind of bar that you go to, to drown your sorrows in a glass of whiskey while the barmaid shoots you knowing glances. It had been a while since Bucky went to a bar like that. Mostly because the people are friendly and tend to ask too many questions. When he lost his arm he didn’t want to be asked questions, so he’d rather drown his sorrows at home than at a bar. Though this is a nice change of pace. With the nicer spring weather, it seems the bar has opened its outside seating again and a group of people has already pulled some tables together to sit close to a fireplace that would surely be turned on when the night gets colder. You let go of the men by your sides and runs over to the group, throwing yourself around the necks of the two redheads sitting side by side. They cheer as they see the three arrive. Bucky feels a bit out of place. Sam notices and puts a hand on his shoulder. ‘Everyone, this is James Barnes, he goes by Bucky. Don’t ask me why because I do not know,‘ Sam tells the group, ‘Bucky, that’s Wanda, Natasha, Vision, don’t ask, Thor, Pietro, and Loki.‘ ‘You’re seriously going to introduce me with that embarrassing nickname but not the others,‘ Vision asks Sam. ‘Victor isn’t any better.‘ Vision sighs and leans back in his chair. Bucky can’t help but be a little confused at the display. Yet, he doesn’t ask any questions as he is bracing for questions about this arm but they never come. Instead, Thor and Pietro go to work on putting another table with the two they already have to widen the circle while Loki grabs the new arrivals some chairs. ‘Is everyone ready for another round? On me,‘ you announce as you make her way to the door. The group cheers in agreement. You slip inside, leaving Sam and Bucky with the group. Bucky decides to take the middle chair, leaving the chair next to the girls empty as Sam takes a seat next to Loki. ‘When’d you move here,‘ Pietro asks the guy in a thick, Russian accent. ‘A few days ago,‘ Bucky answers, ‘had to get out of the city.‘ Pietro lifts his, almost empty, glass at Bucky as if to accept his answer. He throws the last sip back and puts his glass back on the table. ‘You live next to old man Steve, right,‘ Natasha asks him, leaning forward a little to get a good look at him. Bucky nods. She nods at his nodding and leans back again. “What a strange woman,“ Bucky thinks. But before he can much more of an opinion, you come back outside with a man behind you who’s holding a tray of beer. You help him pass the beer around before you take a seat next to Bucky. ‘To our growing group of degenerates,‘ Sam jokes. The group calls cheers and brings their glasses to their lips, all taking a big sip. After that, it takes the group less than a few seconds to start chatting around. You happily explain everything that needs context to Bucky as the night progresses. ‘Are ya’ll going to the cow dance Saturday,‘ Thor asks the group, ‘not you Y/n, I know you’re taking the kids to see it.‘ ‘The kids,‘ Bucky asks. “Does Y/n have kids?” ‘I take the children in the village out to play every Saturday afternoon,‘ you quickly explain to him. ‘And the cow dance?‘ ‘When the cows come into the fields for the first time after winter,‘ you smile, ‘it’s fun. You should come.‘ ‘There’s a party at the pub after,‘ Sam whispers to him, ‘that’s the only reason all of us go.‘ ‘That’s no true,‘ you yelp in a laugh, ‘you’re all just “too masculine“ to admit you enjoy watching cows frolic.‘ ‘Okay, fair point,‘ Sam admits, ‘but the drinking is fun too.‘ You sigh. ‘Fine, yes, the drinking is fun too.‘

The later the night gets, the more the group divides into smaller groups. Thor, Loki, and Pietro have gone to sit with a group of girls in a darker corner. Wanda, Vision, Natasha, and the bartender, aka Bruce, are sitting on a few couches together and being all cute and couple-y. Sam got lost somewhere. And Bucky and you are still seated next to the heather. Bucky notices how you shoot glances at Pietro who is very obviously flirting with another girl. ‘Are you two a thing?‘ ‘No, it’s just sex,‘ you tell him straight up, ‘but there’s a rumor that that girl has an STD. I don’t like to believe rumors but I am wary when it comes to my sex life.‘ Bucky almost spits out the sip he just took because of the blunt words leaving your mouth. You laugh. ‘Oh come on, you didn’t think I was that innocent.‘ ‘Honestly, I did think that,‘ Bucky tells you between coughs. You smile and take a big swig from your beer, finishing it. ‘You’d be surprised how many people aren’t who they seem,‘ you tell him and get up, ‘you want another one?‘ He nods and watches you go inside. Wow. Little miss “I take the children in the village out to play in the field every Saturday“ isn’t innocent at all. Who would’ve thought? While you’re gone, he takes a second to scan the area. Wanda and Vision are obviously a couple and so are Natasha and Bruce. Then there’s Loki who, according to Y/n, wouldn’t be able to keep a stable relationship if his life depended on it. Thor, who is in love with a farmer’s daughter who doesn’t want him at all. From what Y/n just said, Bucky thinks Pietro is just trying to fuck the whole town. And then there’s Sam. It’s obvious to Bucky that Sam sees Y/n as a sister but he doesn’t seem to have any interest in other women. In fact, he doesn’t seem interested in anyone. Maybe he’s got a girl at home, maybe he’s interested in Y/n, maybe he’s just not interested. Sam raises his hand to greet Bucky and walks over, leaving the conversation he was having with another group of people to come sit with him. ‘Did the little lady leave you,‘ he teases, taking her seat on the opposite side of the table. ‘Nah, she just went to get drinks.‘ Sam takes a peek through the glass doors to see the girl standing at the bar, chatting with the bartender that’s still on shift. ‘You know, I see the way you look at her,‘ Sam tells him, ‘and I get it.‘ ‘I’m sorry?‘ ‘You like her, right?‘ ‘Well, yeah, but not like that,‘ Bucky tells him, ‘I just feel a bit closer to her because of the-‘ ‘The arm, leg thing. I get it,‘ Sam nods, ‘just know that she won’t want to talk about it, but I don’t think you want to talk about it either.‘ The look in Sam’s eyes is brotherly and protective like he’d do anything to keep Y/n happy. Bucky nods, shrinking in his jacket again. ‘Sam, don’t bully him,‘ you call over as you see the two, ‘and you took my chair.‘ The seriousness disappears from Sam’s face as he looks at you. ‘Don’t worry princess, I’ll get you another one,‘ Sam says and clumsily reaches over to an empty chair that is juuuuuust in reach if he leans over far enough. You roll your eyes and put the beers on the table, walk around Sam to grab the chair yourself. ‘Oh, beer,‘ Sam grins and takes one of them. ‘Don’t you dare birdbrain,‘ you snap at him in a joking way as you sit down on your chair. He slowly lifts the glass to his lips. ‘I swear to God, I’m going to castrate you.‘ Bucky laughs quietly. ‘Steve’s going to keep you to that,‘ he tells you. ‘As he should,‘ you reply and manage to snatch your beer from Sam’s hand before he can take a sip, ‘get your own beer you leech.‘ Sam pretends to have been hurt, putting his hand to his heart and crying in pain. ‘On princess, such cruel words from such an innocent mouth,‘ he whines out. ‘Oh shut up, you know my mouth isn’t innocent,‘ you jab back, making Bucky choke on his beer once again. ‘Dammit,‘ he coughs, ‘why do you have to be like this?‘ ‘You haven’t even heard half of it,‘ Sam laughs, ‘you’ll be dead before she’s done if you’re going to react like that every time she says something raunchy.‘ ‘Shut up,‘ you laugh, knowing what’s coming. ‘Am I lying though? Am I?‘ You playfully hit his shoulder. ‘Bucky, ask her how she got Pietro in her bed.‘ ‘Wha- I don’t want to.‘ ‘I don’t want him to either,‘ you chime in, starting to lose control over your laughter as you think back to that night. Jeez, you weren’t okay. Sam turns to Bucky, holding up his hands to be ready to tell this story as big as he can. ‘She grabbed a bottle opener from the bar, put it on his table, and she-‘ ‘No, don’t,‘ you beg, starting to laugh loudly. Your stomach already hurts. ‘She asked him what that was,‘ Sam says and gestures over to Bucky to tell him to answer the question. ‘A bottle opener.‘ ‘Exactly,‘ Sam says, a chuckle through his words, ‘and then she asked him what he was.‘ He takes a second to calm himself down. ‘Don’t say it,‘ you beg him, ‘I was so, so drunk.‘ ‘You weren’t, you had one beer,‘ Sam argues and turns back to Bucky, ‘she told him he was a leg opener.‘ Bucky bursts out in laughter louder than he imagined he would while you pull your legs up to your chest, hiding your face behind your knees as you wrap your arms around them. But you’re not ashamed, you’re just wheezing. ‘Please say it’s a joke,‘ Bucky begs you through laughter-induced tears. ‘It isn’t,‘ you manage to tell him. ‘Oh please tell me this happened when you two were alone.‘ ‘Nope, she did it right when we all sat down,‘ Sam tells him, ‘the man barely had a drink.‘ ‘I was horny okay,‘ you yelp in defense, setting your feet back on the ground. ‘You’re always horny,‘ Pietro yells from his seat. ‘Shut up, this ain’t about you,‘ you yell back. He laughs. ‘Tell them how you made me climb down the drainpipe to get out before your dad woke up,‘ he yells back. Bucky can’t help but be surprised at how open people are with sexuality in a village this small. You don’t seem to care that he just screamed that for everyone to hear and, from the looks you two get, everyone already seems to know.

Around one in the morning, everyone says their goodbyes. Though you told him it wasn’t necessary, Bucky insisted on walking you home and so you’re walking down the street together. At first, it was the whole group but as you got further down the street, more and more people dropped off. Now it’s just Bucky and you. ‘Say, I’ve been meaning to ask,‘ Bucky suddenly says. Your heartbeat rises. What is he going to ask? About your leg? About your family? ‘Why is everyone so okay with being sexual here?‘ You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. He gives her a confused look but you don’t address it. ‘Well, we don’t have many choices in partners,‘ you explain, ‘and since we are all friends, no one really cares who does who. Of course, people who are together are off-limits, but like with me and Pietro we do have casual sex but I’m not his only partner and he’s not my only partner.‘ ‘You have multiple partners?‘ ‘Not at the moment,‘ you tell him, ‘I was kind of starting to look for someone to settle down with but I was kind of coming to the conclusion that the one for me isn’t here. This is me.‘ They stop in front of your house. ‘So what’s next for you?‘ You shrug. ‘I don’t know. I might go work in the city for a while, see what’s there for me,‘ you smile slightly but your smile tells a million words. You don’t want to leave but you also don’t want to be on your own her whole life. You’re nearing the second half of your twenties and you’re still living at home because you hate to be alone. ‘How about you? Are you single?‘ ‘I am,‘ Bucky tries to suppress a smile, ‘never quite been in a relationship either.‘ Either the alcohol or this man’s presence pushes you straight into a flirty mood. He is quite handsome. You grin at him, pushing his chest playfully. ‘I’m sure you’re quite the ladies’ man. You’ve got the looks for it.‘ ‘Well, I used to be,‘ he smiles nostalgically, absentmindedly trying to cross his arms while having just one arm. He seems to catch himself in the act and tries to make it look like he was going to scratch his shoulder but you already noticed. ‘I get what you mean,‘ you say with a smile that’s just as pained as his, ‘took me a while to act like me again as well, but at least I win every game of hopscotch. Got enough practice when I didn’t have my prosthetic.‘ ‘And what would I excel at?‘ You stare at him for a second, biting your lip as you think. ‘Do you want me to be PG?‘ ‘Just go for it.‘ ‘Well, you do everything with one hand, so I’d say you’d be pretty great at pleasuring a woman.‘ ‘Okay, never mind, that’s it, that’s my limit,‘ he laughs, starting to move to walk away. You just give him this devious smile, this smile that could mean nothing good. ‘Sure, I’ll be here when you want to test my theory,‘ you wink at him. ‘Let me take you for dinner first doll,‘ he teases back. ‘Now you’ve gone too far,‘ you chuckle, ‘I take free food very seriously.‘ He laughs at your response, finally starting to walk away. ‘Good night Y/n.‘ ‘Night!‘

Taglist: @nickkie1129

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years ago

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Nine

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Chapter Summary:

Emily and JJ sleep together.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

Content warning: detailed descriptions of sickness, abortion mention.

—

Jennifer Jareau looked like a drowned rat.

A pretty, blonde, sniffly drowned rat that Emily Prentiss had a massive crush on.

She was soaked head to toe, her running shoes muddy and her hair slicked to her skull. She was shivering and looking absolutely miserable. Over her shoulder was her blue duffel bag full of her soccer equipment. It was a Monday, so Emily knew JJ had a practice that afternoon.

“Pen locked me out of our room,” JJ said without greeting as she walked into Emily’s room, “And I need a towel.”

“Hello to you too, Jayje,” Emily said sarcastically.

She stepped back to let her friend enter, shivering at the thought of having to play soccer in the pouring rain, let alone a rainy November afternoon when the temperature was verging on freezing. Ever since the brutal storm on Halloween, the weather had been dreary and wet.

Emily could see the field from her window, it was across the street by the Arts building. While she, and the rest of their friends, made a point to go to all of JJ’s games together and cheer her on, Emily was thankful that the weather had been ok so far, she wasn’t sure how much hypothermia she could handle for one girl.

She grabbed her bath towel and tossed it JJ’s way, and opened her closet to find a cozy sweater to offer. Well, Emily thought, she probably would take hypothermia to support JJ, she just wouldn’t be happy about it.

JJ was simultaneously drying her hair and rifling through her bag. She was still shivering from the cold.

“I left my keys when I ran out of my room this morning,” JJ explained, “And Pen promised she’d be here when it was over.”

“I think she’s teaching Hotch how to knit at his dorm,” Emily said with a laugh, having seen her Insta story a few minutes prior of Hotch struggling with his hands tangled in yarn.

“Just wish she would’ve left the door unlocked,” JJ muttered, “I think I have my spare keys in here somewhere.”

“Here, take this,” Emily said, handing her a grey hoodie with “Oxford” written on the chest, a souvenir from when she lived in England.

Emily turned around so JJ could at least get out of her wet shirt and into the sweater. For a second, the devil on her shoulder told her to look into the mirror on her closet door, that if she did she’d catch a glimpse of JJ shirtless, but Emily shook her head slightly, squeezing her eyes shut. Guilt flared in her stomach at the thought.

She’s been thinking about JJ too much lately.

Their kiss. Their magical life changing kiss. The kiss to end all kisses. That was basically all Emily’s brain could focus on these days.

Before that, her fantasies about Jennifer Jareau were simply fantasies, but now! Now she had her memories. That kiss lingered on her lips and on her brain and in her dreams. Sometimes late at night Emily has found herself putting a thumb onto her cheek, closing her eyes and pretending it was JJ’s hands pulling her closer, just as she had done in the basement on Halloween.

If she had to describe how she felt, the only thing that made sense was to say that Emily was absolutely smitten with JJ.

But, and there was always a but, they hadn’t mentioned the kiss since. Not even a word of acknowledgement between the two.

The day after, when she and Derek walked to class, he interrogated her about what the hell happened , but Emily genuinely didn’t know. What she did know was that it wasn’t Emily who instigated, she thought, it was JJ who had pulled her tight and whose tongue swept across hers.

That week, Emily had grown more and more concerned that she had crossed a line. JJ had started acting strangely, looking away anytime Emily looked at her and telling her that she was too busy to hang out. Then, that weekend JJ had surprised her with a party. A party to celebrate Emily, and Reid and Hotch.

Emily realized that JJ wasn’t ignoring her, instead she was scheming something to make Emily happy. And what had she done? Cried in the bathroom and made a scene. Instead of JJ realizing that Emily was a broken shell of a girl and running far from her, JJ had held her tight and told her everything was going to be ok.

Emily didn’t tell her everything that day, not about all the awful things she did to fit in as a teen, about her mistakes, her abortion, about Matthew… Not yet. Emily had tucked all of that into a box that need not be opened up any time soon.

So now, Emily had the thoughts of JJ’s lips dancing around her brain, but also of her hand in hers, her arms around her and the way she promised she’d always be there.

This got in the way when Emily was trying to focus on other things like school or carrying on a conversation with the blonde.

JJ sneezed, startling Emily out of her thoughts. She turned back around and looked at JJ, who’s hair was slightly less wet and was now wearing her hoodie and looking a little bit warmer.

“À tes souhaits,” Emily said, saying bless you in French.

“I hope I’m not getting sick,” JJ grumbled, dumping some pens out of her backpack in search of the elusive keys. “Kennedy’s gotten half the team out with the flu.”

She sneezed again.

“Gesundheit,” Emily said, having fun with her languages.

“She got it from her boyfriend,” JJ continued, “You remember Anderson? On the water polo team?”

Emily nodded, taking a seat on the edge of her desk, watching JJ sitting on her bed in her clothes, imagining a completely different situation where she would do that. (Emily’s thoughts were full of comments like these, her imagination going wild at the prospect of JJ maybe liking her back.)

“I’m going to kill Garcia,” JJ said, “She told me she’d be in our room after our game.”

“Aha!” JJ said, pulling her lanyard out of a pencil case. “Got them. Thanks Em for the towel. You’re the best neighbour I could ever ask for.”

JJ handed it back, and Emily took the slightly damp towel and hung it up on the back of her closet.

“Anytime,” Emily said, “Though I think this may be an elaborate plot to steal all of my clothes.”

JJ looked down at herself.

“I think it suits me!”

Emily had to agree.

———

Two days later, JJ was at Emily’s door again, but looking a lot worse for wear.

A pink fuzzy blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, she was wearing oversized sweatpants and a sports bra, and her hair was messy and tucked behind her ears. Her nose was red and her skin looked pale.

“Hey Em,” JJ rasped.

“You’re sick,” Emily pointed out, unhelpfully.

“Nice work, Sherlock,” she said, coughing into her blanketed arm.

“What’s up?” Emily asked, leaning on the door frame.

“I’m out of cold pills and can’t sleep,” JJ said.

“It’s like nine pm?” Emily said, the statement coming out as a question.

“I have practice at six in the morning,” JJ said, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders, sniffling a little. The girl was swaying as she stood.

“You cannot actually be going to practice in that state,” Emily said.

“What state?” JJ barely managed to get out between sneezes.

“ Bless you ,” Emily said, knowing the girl definitely needed it.

Emily went to her desk, rummaging through a drawer. She found the very end of a cold and flu medicine pack, the kind with day and nighttime pills and handed them to JJ.

“Those good?” Emily asked.

JJ nodded and thanked her, before trudging back across the hall.

Before her door closed Emily said: “ Please take a break JJ!”

“I’m fine,” came the nasal voice of her friend, followed by the sound of her blowing her nose.

———

On Wednesday, JJ showed up to their weekly French study date somehow looking even more sick. There were bags under her eyes, and a wracking cough made her entire body shutter with its force.

JJ continued to insist that she was fine, despite the fact that she spent more time coughing than speaking French.

Emily was worried about her, but knew at this point, nothing she would say would make the very determined girl slow down.

———

On Thursday, Emily walked into the girls’ bathroom, toothbrush in hand before bed, and found JJ curled up on the floor next to the toilet, looking pale as a sheet.

“JJ, oh my god,” Emily said, pushing open the semi ajar door and kneeling down next to her friend.

“Mmm fine,” JJ made out, her face in her arms, not lifting her head to talk to Emily.

“This is the exact opposite of fine, JJ,” Emily said.

She had absolutely no idea how to help her.

Emily thought back to all the times she had been sick, and it had usually been whatever staff her mother had had at the time who took care of her. Nannies, cooks, assistants would bring her food, take her temperature and put buckets next to her bed. Ambassador Prentiss wasn’t the kind of mom that Emily would see on TV worried about her child when they were sick.

“Do you want water?” Emily asked, feeling helpless.

JJ shook her head, not raising it from the edge of the toilet.

“The floor is nice and cold,” JJ said, “I like it here.”

Emily almost laughed, and would have if she wasn’t so worried about the other girl.

“What do you need, JJ?” Emily asked.

“Nothing,” JJ said, “I can handle this.”

JJ’s hair hung limp around her face, and Emily leaned forward, taking the elastic from around her wrist and helped JJ pull her hair back. Emily couldn’t help, but she could at least keep JJ’s hair from getting puke on it.

Clearly hitting another wave of nausea, JJ moved, emptying the rest of her stomach into the toilet and then flushing. Emily rubbed her arm up and down her back, hoping that the motions would be comforting.

While the toilet did its thing, JJ sat back, leaning against the grey stall door, her shoulder resting against Emily’s. Her head was tilted back and her eyes closed tightly against the fluorescent lights.

“I really don’t feel good, Em,” JJ whimpered.

“I know,” Emily said, “What do you want?”

“Water,” JJ croaked.

“I’ll get some,” Emily said, patting JJ on the shoulder. JJ nodded, returning to her hunched over position on the toilet.

Emily basically sprinted down the hall, and spotting JJ’s slightly ajar door, she pushed it open to find Penelope sitting at her computer.

“Hello my beautiful goth friend,” Penelope said, “How may I be of service to you?”

“JJ’s currently puking her guts out,” Emily explained, slightly breathless, “She’s asking for water.”

“Oh my poor dear,” she said, pushing back from her desk and hurrying over to JJ’s night-side table to retrieve her water. “She told me she was going to shower, I didn’t think she was that bad.”

“She kept telling me she was fine,” Emily said, “Even while she puked.”

“Typical,” Penelope huffed, following Emily down the hall, “Can’t show any weakness. Both of you! I’m sick of it.”

Emily didn’t say anything, not sure if she could argue that accusation. She followed Penelope into the bathroom, hovering by the sink as Penelope took over her caregiving responsibilities.

She gently felt JJ’s forehead, and held up her water bottle for JJ to rinse her mouth.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Penelope said after a few minutes without any puke. “Em? Help us?

JJ stook shakily, and when Emily took her arm, JJ leaned into her, putting most of her weight on the taller girl. Penelope carried JJ’s water and shower things back for her, letting Emily take care of the dizzy JJ.

Penelope held the door open, and Emily guided JJ into bed, hovering awkwardly as JJ nestled into her bed and Penelope grabbed their trash bin and placed it next to her.

“I’ve got it from here, Em,” Penelope said, patting her on the shoulder.

“Feel better JJ,” she said, backing away, unable to take her eyes off the girl, who looked paler than she’d ever seen her.

“I miss you already,” JJ rasped out, her eyes still closed, curling up on her side and pulling the blankets up over her shoulder.

Emily smiled before leaving the room. She was worried about her but knew Penelope would take better care of JJ than Emily could ever.

———

She and Hotch spent almost five days straight crammed inside a tiny study room in the arts library working on a criminal psych presentation. It was worth almost half their grade.

They had commandeered the tiny room, booking it for the entire block of time each day, and only really leaving it to eat and sleep. At first, their friends would join them, popping in to provide moral support, but as the deadline neared, and Hotch and Emily grew more frantic, their friends mostly left them alone besides for the occasional reminder to take a break.

According to Penelope who periodically texted Emily with updates, JJ spent most of the time sleeping, and having been given time off from soccer and extensions on her school work, Penelope had finally convinced her to focus on recovery.

It was in the library when Emily began to sniffle. It was an annoying nasal drip that tickled her nose and made her feel like she constantly needed to blow her nose.

Unfortunately, she was not the kind of girl who had tissues on her. Emily wasn’t particularly well prepared in that respect. She dug through her backpack only to find a pair of tangled headphones, chapstick and two tampons. She briefly considered sticking those in her nose and calling it a day but thought Hotch would probably pass out at the sight of that.

An hour in, Hotch got so fed up with her constant sniffling that he stole a roll of paper towel from the boys washroom and threw it at her when he returned.

The scratchy paper made her nose sensitive and red. She learned about the redness when Hotch called her “Rudolph” to get her attention.

As the day ticked on, Emily began to feel either too hot, or too cold. She chalked this up to the library’s dodgy heating system and the colder November weather.

After lunch, the sneezing started.

“You’re sick, Prentiss,” Hotch told her.

“No of course not,” Emily said. “I don’t get sick. It’s just allergies.”

“What are you allergic to?”

“Uhh,” Emily looked around, “Dust?”

“Sure.”

Emily was not sick. She couldn’t afford to get sick. Sure, she had spent a lot of time in close proximity to JJ, who was still spending her most time with her face in a bin, but Emily didn’t need this now.

She was certainly aware she had had the exact conversation with JJ, encouraging the other girl to take a break to recover. Emily could talk the talk but couldn’t walk the walk on self care.

When she woke up the next morning. She felt even worse. Her throat was sore, she had a headache and she couldn’t breathe through her nose. Having given JJ all of her cold medicine, she powered through, drinking an endless barrage of hot tea, hoping it would heal her.

She had too much to do.

Days passed with Emily pushing herself to exhaustion, working all day, making it to her extra curricular meetings and only falling asleep during a few of her lectures.

The day of her presentation, Emily’s entire body hurt. She had barely slept the night before, as her sneezing kept her up. She managed to wear a pair of leggings and a sweater, but tied her hair back in a ponytail, too exhausted to do much else.

“You look like shit,” Hotch told her when she showed up to their class, shaking his head.

“Thanks, I feel like it too,” Emily quipped. “I haven’t thrown up yet though, so I count that as a victory.”

In a feat of sheer willpower, Emily made it through her presentation before collapsing into the fold out lecture hall seat, her head laid back, immediately falling asleep and sleeping through the other four group presentations.

After class, Hotch felt her forehead with his hand and announced that she had a fever. He then frog marched her straight to the clinic, pointing out that her hands shook and that she couldn’t do anything without coughing up a storm.

Emily was sure if it was not for his American Law seminar with mandatory attendance, he would be right next to her, ensuring she actually saw a doctor.

“The doctor will call you when it’s your turn dear,” the receptionist told her as she handed Emily’s student card back to her.

Emily nodded and grabbed some hand sanitizer, rubbing the cold liquid over her hands.

She sighed, which turned into a cough that tore through her lungs. She found a spot in the waiting room, under a gigantic poster about STDs. To her left was a small table covered with pamphlets about mental health resources and a big bowl of condoms.

The door to the clinic opened again and Emily shivered. The early November breeze was starting to chill her to the bone. She lifted the hood to her black sweater over her head, hoping to conserve some more heat that way.

Emily glanced at the new patient and was not entirely surprised to see JJ walking towards her.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Emily said as JJ walked into the waiting room.

“I hear I gave you my plague?” JJ asked, shrugging her backpack off her shoulders.

Emily nodded and coughed.

“Sorry,” JJ sat down next to her.

“What are you doing here?” Emily asked, “You look a lot better than you did.”

“Hotch told me you needed an escort,” JJ said, “And I was in the neighbourhood. He said something about not trusting you to actually go to the doctor’s.”

Emily laughed at that.

“You’re my babysitter?” Emily asked.

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” JJ said with a wink. “I think half of my team is out of commission with this. I’ve never been so sick, I’m glad I’m on the mend.”

Emily nodded, counting the days in her head and realizing that JJ had been out for over a week.

“You look better than you did,” Emily commented.

“Thanks,” JJ said, sarcastically, “At least I’m not puking anymore.”

“I never get sick,” Emily coughed, “I just want something for the cough and I’ll be fine.”

Emily coughed into her elbow, as if reminded.

“How did your presentation go?” JJ asked.

Emily’s heart swelled at the thought that JJ paid attention to her.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Emily said. “I feel really out of it. Hotch marched me straight here after so probably not great.”

“Emily Prentiss?” A nurse called out.

Emily gathered up her things, shot JJ a wave and went into the exam room.

Her doctor, a surly elderly white woman, with greying hair tied back in a low bun, barely looked at her, asking Emily a series of questions.

“What are your symptoms?” she finally asked.

Emily explained how her head cold transformed into something a touch more debilitating, making sure to avoid downplaying her symptoms, because she knew they would take any opportunity to send her home telling her to drink water and rest. Emily did not have time to rest.

The doctor took her vitals, listened to her lungs, grimacing at the sound of them, then took her oxygen, noting them in her chart.

Emily wasn’t a doctor but the face she made at her oxygen levels meant that they were definitely not good.

The sudden onset of chills left her shivering on the examination table as the doctor took notes on her chart.

She checked her phone, smiling as she noticed that she had a notification from the one and only cheetobreath98.

It was a selfie, taken surreptitiously from below in the waiting room, captioned, “plague lookz!”

Emily found herself smiling. A small flame with the number 27 was next to JJ’s name. They had a streak. It was childish, but the visible marker of the fact that they had talked every day for a month, sometimes for hours at a time, sending silly photos back and forth.

“You have a chest cold. Bronchitis. We want to nip it in the bud before it becomes pneumonia,” the doctor said, spinning in her chair to face her. “We see it a lot with students, you all work too hard.”

Emily nodded, not really agreeing with the sentiment, but understanding the feeling behind it. Emily had to work hard.

“Take this inhaler three times daily, at least,” he said, “And any time you’re having difficulty breathing. You can take some acetaminophen for the fever.”

He explained how to use it.

“You cannot drink, smoke or take any recreational drugs on this medication,” he warned.

Emily, who had vowed to not smoke for the duration of her illness anyways, hoping to preserve her fragile lugs, nodded.

“Try honey for the sore throat. Lots of liquids.”

She nodded.

“Come back if you’re not better in a week,” he concluded. “Your prescription will be there for pick up at the pharmacy.”

“Thanks doc,” Emily smiled, taking her leave, placing her mask back on for the hallway.

In the hall she pulled out her phone, opened Snapchat and took a selfie with the waiting room in the background.

“Ya girl’s got bronchitis!!” Emily captioned it, sending it to JJ, as well as Derek and Hotch. They would enjoy her misery.

Immediately Derek texted her.

Derek 🕺: suuuuucks bro. need some soup?

Emily: i’ll be fine but thanks

Emily: i feel like shit. the doctor gave me a puffer lol

Derek🕺: must be bad, I hear they usually just prescribe rest. Your lungs must suck

Emily: typical, id assume they’d be in pristine condition

Derek🕺: 🙄

Derek🕺: you literally smoke cigarettes

Emily laughed at her phone and walked up to the receptionist to fill out the paperwork. The nice woman smiled at her and told her to get well soon.

As JJ met her in the foyer, phone vibrated with another text.

Derek🕺: you coming back to res?

Emily: ya, hotch sent jj to baby sit me

Derek🕺: wasn’t she the one who got you sick? now shes taking care of u

Derek🕺: did u make out or something??

Emily: shut up that was before she was sick

“Get any good drugs?” JJ whispered to her conspiratorially as they walked out together.

Emily laughed louder than she expected, which manifested in wracking coughs between the two girls.

“Actually yeah,” Emily held up the prescription. “Only because you got me sick.”

“Everyone is sick, how can you be sure it was me? Anyways I had the flu, not bronchitis.”

“You’ve been cooped up with Hotch all weekend. Maybe he got you sick.”

“I don’t think Hotch can get sick,” Emily muttered.

They went to the pharmacy together, picking up Emily’s drugs. Emily also added some acetaminophen to her haul, cough drops and a pack of tissues, the kind with moisturizer per JJ’s suggestion.

As Emily waited in line to cash out, swaying a little with the exertion of standing up, JJ left for a second and then returned with a box of tea.

“I’ll make us some,” JJ said, “It’ll heal you.”

Emily felt warm, despite the chill of the store. She wasn’t sure if it was her fever or her growing love for Jennifer Jareau.

Together, they walked to their residence. Once inside, Emily wondered if JJ actually meant it when she offered the tea.

Emily opened her door, tossing her things on her desk. She took her puffer out of the bag, read the instructions before taking a dose, trying to keep the medicine in her lungs as she breathed deep, holding back the coughing.

The sun had started setting earlier and earlier as winter neared, and outside of Emily’s windows, the street lamps turned on.

Emily desperately wanted it to work. She felt like a zombie, exhausted and either too hot or two cold all at once.

She changed into a pair of pyjama pants, a black crewneck sweater with a band logo on the chest, and a pair of fuzzy socks, and pulled a blanket around her shoulders, wondering if she should just crawl into bed or if JJ’s offer still stood.

“Em!” JJ called out as she knocked on her door, “Kettle’s boiling.”

Emily’s heart soared. The sentence felt so… domestic. She hurried across the hall, inhaler in hand (just in case), standing hesitantly in the doorway. JJ had changed into grey sweatpants and a soft green hoodie with her gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, looking much comfier than she had.

“Sit down!” JJ encouraged, “If you feel as gross as I do, you’ll need it.”

Emily did, relaxing on JJ’s bed, leaning into the mountain of comfortable pillows and breathing a sigh of relief in not standing any longer. A deep exhaustion had settled into bones, not helped by the long lecture that morning and the clinic visit.

JJ walked over, handing her a mug and sitting on the bed next to her, taking a sip of her own mug.

It was the same tea as before, sleepy time, with the warm combination of chamomile, mint, and other fruity tastes greeting her like a hug. She clutched it with two hands, enjoying how the mug radiated heat and warmed her chilly fingers.

“Thank you,” Emily managed, her voice sounding a bit less scratchy to her ears than before.

“Any time,” JJ replied, “It’s nice to have company.”

Emily looked away, suddenly feeling shy. Should she stay? Was she welcome to hang out? Emily wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay, she didn’t want JJ to see how gross she was with her messy hair, stuffy nose and endless sneezing.

JJ clearly looked better than she did earlier that week, Emily taking her place as token invalid in residence.

“I was going to watch tv,” JJ said, “I don’t think I could handle doing homework right now.”

“Oh I’ll go,” Emily said, taking the hint and moving to climb off the bed. JJ’s arm stuck out, grabbing her shoulder and stopping her.

“No, Em,” JJ said, “I was wondering if you wanted to join me. ”

Oh. Emily felt her face break into a smile. She relaxed into the bed as JJ grabbed her laptop and set it between them, she pulled a fluffy sky-blue blanket, and draped it over her legs, then over Emily’s.

There was the noise of keys in the door, Emily felt herself pull away from JJ, leaning away from her friend as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

Penelope Garcia opened the door, followed shortly after by Derek Morgan who was carrying two large take out bowls of soup.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Derek said, handing each of them a bowl.

“How are my two sick dears?” Penelope cooed, as she collected a textbook from her desk.

Emily tried to speak, coughing instead, and JJ reached out to steady her bowl, knowing that she would spill if she wasn’t careful.

She decided not to acknowledge Derek's comment because even Emily didn’t know she would be in JJ’s room, how could he?

“Just about as bad as you would expect,” JJ said.

Emily nodded, recovering from her fit.

“We won’t keep you!” Penelope replied, “we have a study date! Enjoy your movie night. Don’t forget to text me if either of you need anything tonight. I’ll be back late.”

Penelope looked at them and frowned.

“I may quarantine away from you, I do not want to catch that.”

“Get some sleep, guys” Derek said. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Emily said, thick with sarcasm.

“Toodles!” Penelope said as they left.

The door shut, and the two girls began to sip the soup. It was chicken noodle and had cooled to the perfect temperature.

“What do you wanna watch?” JJ asked between spoonfuls.

Emily thought about her comfort tv and movies: The X Files. Or Star Trek: The Voyage Home (the one with the whales, exclusively, because she finds it silly and always makes her feel better). They were so nerdy. She couldn’t look JJ in the eye and reveal how much of a nerd she was.

“I’m not sure,” she said instead, “Did you have something in mind?”

“I usually watch cooking shows,” JJ said, “To be honest. Or Gilmore Girls, Parks and Rec, or-”

JJ stopped herself.

“Or what?” Emily prodded.

“Twilight ,” JJ admitted.

Emily laughed.

“I haven’t seen it,” Emily commented, “I missed that phase I guess.”

“Oh you have to,” JJ said, getting excited, “It’s fantastic. And bad. It’s both at once. I was team Edward.”

Emily knew that was the vampire; she didn’t live under a rock, she just hadn’t actually seen the films.

JJ began to babble, between coughs, about how as a kid she read each book as they came out, and even had a poster of the cast on her wall. Emily simply basked in her company and the excitement of watching something she cared about.

Emily found herself cuddled up next to JJ, eating their soup and watching Twilight .

Between the warmth of JJ’s bed, the soothing soup and finally relaxing, Emily suddenly felt slightly better. Maybe taking a break to recover was actually a good thing.

Emily almost laughed at the thought that it only took a case of bronchitis to get her in JJ’s bed.

As the movie wore on, Emily’s exhaustion, and full stomach overtook her. The two girls wrapped in a blanket made it quickly warm and comforting, and as Bella discovered that Edward was a vampire, Emily felt her eyelids drooping.

She tried to fight the feeling, but soon, Emily was fast asleep next to JJ.

———

Emily woke up, hours later, in the dark with another blanket wrapped around her, JJ’s laptop nowhere in sight and no memory of anything she had just watched.

JJ was curled up into her side and was snoring quietly.

Emily stiffened, at the reality of her current situation. She needed to relax or she would wake JJ up. Her back was to the wall, and JJ’s prone body blocked her exit.

Her mind moved a mile a minute. JJ must’ve put away the laptop and given her another blanket, chosen not to wake Emily up. She wanted to sleep in the same bed.

What did this mean? Did JJ want to sleep next to her? Did JJ like her?

She thought hard about this, but she knew there was no way this was romantic . This must just be how close, female friendships went. Emily’s feelings for JJ were clouding her judgment.

Emily was never invited to sleepovers, or had any close girl friends before, this is probably just what she was missing out on.

God, she thought, maybe it’s good that nobody liked me. I would have caught feelings and made it weird. Just like I’m doing right now.

Emily examined JJ’s face, which was only inches from her own. Gazing at each freckle, her long light brown eyelashes, her perfect eyebrows. Her pink lips were slightly parted, brealths coming out softly.

JJ shifted closer, as she, in her sleep, was probably moving toward Emily’s warmth unconsciously.

Emily closed her eyes and basked in that moment.

Before she knew it, JJ rolled around onto her other side, and Emily was left staring at the back of her blonde head.

Missing the warmth, Emily tugged the blanket further around her shoulders.

Emily looked around JJ’s darkened room, at the empty bed across the room. Penelope, true to her word, was elsewhere. For a second, Emily wondered whose bed she was sleeping in, but the strong urge to cough overtook her, distracting her from that train of thought.

She rolled onto her back, coughing into her elbow, trying to stifle them so that she did not wake JJ. Unfortunately, the coughs kept coming, and Emily found herself struggling to breathe. She sat up, and before she knew what was happening, JJ was awake and sitting next to her with a comforting hand on her back, and Emily’s inhaler in hand.

“Hey you’re ok,” JJ whispered, running her hand up and down her back, “It’s ok baby.”

Emily tried to catch her breath, taking her medicine and trying to hold it into her lungs, before coughing again. Her entire body shook with them, and it brought forth the aching that permeated her entire entire body.

The coughs slowed, and she fell back into JJ, whose arms wrapped around her as she made soothing noises.

“You ok?” JJ asked, her own voice still sounding a bit hoarse.

Emily nodded, whimpering, and JJ handed her a water bottle. Emily thought for a second before taking it, knowing that she had already caught JJ’s sickness anyways.

JJ’s strong arms wrapped around her, supporting her limp frame as she drank water and calmed back down, before moving away to let Emily lay back down.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” JJ said, “You were out halfway through the first movie and I knew you definitely needed the rest.”

Emily nodded, bracing for JJ to ask her to leave, but that didn’t come.

“How are you feeling?” JJ asked.

“Better,” Emily croaked. “My lungs still hurt.”

“Do you still have a fever?” JJ asked, moving her hand to feel Emily’s forehead.

Emily closed her eyes at the gentle touch.

“You’re hot,” JJ said, tutting at ther.

“Don’t you know it, babe,” Emily said, without thinking.

Her eyes shot open, and she began to stutter, trying to backtrack what she said. JJ began to laugh.

“Miss Prentiss is cocky when she’s feverish,” JJ said, grinning at her.

Emily felt herself blush, but hoped JJ would take that as her fever and not her embarrassment.

“It’s late, Em,” JJ said, “Go back to sleep.”

There it was. An invitation to continue sharing her bed. Emily relaxed, closing her eyes.

This time, she didn’t quickly fall asleep, finding herself feeling tense in JJ’s bed, not wanting to do anything that would be seen as suspicious.

Was she lying too close? Was she moving too much? Was she allowed to cuddle up to JJ? Did girls cuddle with each other?

Over Thanksgiving weekend last year, when she visited the Morgans with Derek, she and he shared his childhood bed. It was not like this, with the two of them fighting for blankets, kicking each other, and grumbling like siblings. Then, Emily didn’t feel this fluttering in her stomach or the desire to sniff the other persons hair. Well, Derek barely had any hair to sniff.

Emily forced herself to relax, to take as deep breaths as her lungs could manage and to try to fall back asleep.

Some time passed, with Emily breathing slightly congested breaths in and out, as JJ tossed and turned a bit, moving around to get comfortable.

Emily faded in and out of consciousness, right on the verge of sleep when movement on the bed told her that JJ had rolled again, and was now facing her. She could sense that JJ was looking at her, but didn’t open her eyes to confirm, still verging on sleep.

She must have assumed that Emily was fast asleep, because the other girl turned to face Emily, and did something that Emily didn’t expect, nor knew exactly what to do with.

JJ had kissed Emily’s forehead, softly, and Emily’s sleep deprived, feverish brain was not sure if it had actually happened, or if she had hallucinated.

It took everything in Emily to not react, forcing her eyes closed and her body still, keeping her breathing steady. then rolled onto her side as if nothing had happened.

Emily didn’t have the capacity to process the kiss, or the rush of emotions it conjured, so she decided that it was simply a figment of her imagination.

Both girls fell asleep shortly after.

———

The second time Emily woke in JJ’s bed, the sun was up and the room was bathed in golden light. Emily felt warm and safe, and compared to the previous day, her body wasn’t aching as much. Emily opened her eyes and found that she was not only laying face to face with a sleeping JJ, but their limbs were tangled, as both of them had apparently decided to cuddle the other in their sleep.

Emily’s legs were wrapped up in JJ’s, her right leg between JJ’s, and the blonde’s arm was thrown casually around Emily’s shoulder, holding her close.

This time, Emily didn’t panic, and relished the embrace of JJ. She knew that she wasn’t likely to get a chance to be this close to her again, without the excuse of a fever, so she wasn’t going to ruin it.

Despite her best efforts, JJ’s eyes blinked open, as if sensing that Emily was awake.

Emily pulled away, yawning, attempting to untangle their limbs.

“Why hello there,” JJ whispered, giggling at her.

“Hi,” Emily whispered, smiling back at JJ.

“You look a lot better,” JJ commented, reaching out and fixing Emily’s bangs for her.

“I feel better,” she said, “Less like I’m on the verge of death.”

“We can’t have you dying, Em,” she replied, “Who else would I cuddle with?”

Emily smiled at her.

JJ sat up, stretching, revealing a slip of her lower back as the hem of her sweater rose above her waist. Emily did the same, sitting crossed legged in her bed, still wrapped in blankets despite the warmth of the room. JJ was lucky and her bed was near the radiator, keeping them toasty warm despite the chilled fall air.

Emily peeked outside, watching fall leaves fly through the sky, patterning the courtyard with a blanket of leaves. JJ stood, put on her slippers, and took a drink of water, before offering it to Emily.

Taking the water bottle, Emily sipped it awkwardly, completely unsure what to do with herself. All her experiences being in someone else’s bed had usually also involved her leaving quickly after, or at least in the morning before the other woke up. Now, Emily was watching JJ fuss with her hair in the mirror in the golden light of day.

“I’m starving,” JJ said, “What time is it?”

Emily grabbed JJ’s phone, seeing the time. It was 6:30am, long before she ever normally woke up. She must have fallen asleep earlier than she thought.

“Cafs aren’t open yet,” Emily said, “It’s only 6:30.”

“Do you like omelettes?” JJ asked.

———

Fifteen minutes later, Emily was seated in the tiny dorm kitchen at the end of their floor, wrapped in a blanket, with another steaming cup of tea in her hands, watching JJ flip an omelette in a pan.

Apparently JJ is one of the few people to use the kitchen—besides Emily and her cookies—to use the kitchen for more than instant noodles and pizza pockets.

She had eggs in the fridge, and diced frozen vegetables in the freezer, and quickly whipped up a delicious breakfast for the two of them in minutes, chatting the entire time.

“Oooh,” JJ said as she pulled out her carton of eggs, “I should get some apple cider. Someone’s got a massive jug in here and I’m dying for some.”

“I’ve never liked apple cider,” Emily said, taking a gulp of her tea.

The hot tea—and her doctor prescribed medicine—was clearing her sinuses and Emily felt like she was breathing fully for the first time in days.

“That’s impossible,” JJ said, matter-of-factly, as she cracked an egg into a bowl. “It’s the best thing ever.”

Emily shrugged, “I’ve only had it once and it wasn’t that good.”

“If I wasn’t a good person, I would steal this person’s cider and make you try it,” JJ said, gesturing with a spatula.

JJ turned and busied herself with adding the veggies to the pan, sautéing them in butter and some seasoning.

“We should go to the fair, together,” JJ blurted, “I mean. All of us.”

“I’ve also never been to a fair,” Emily said with another shrug. “I have to remind you that I’ve barely lived in the US, and when I did, I was trapped in stuffy private schools.”

JJ gave her a look that, if it was from anyone else, would look pitying.

“It’s decided,” JJ said, plopping the omelette onto Emily’s plate. “When you feel better, we’re going to the fair.”

“It’s a date.”

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years ago

Text

June Contest Submission #12: Boom Boom Pow

Words: ca. 3,300 Setting: mAU Lemon: lime CW: sand, alcohol, beanbags, dash of lime, language

“Do you like the stars?”

“Anna it’s fucking noon, the sun is up, it’s bright as shit. Why are you asking about stars?”

“Yo, my dude, chill. The sun is a star… right?”

Elsa rolled her eyes and turned up the radio, blasting 80’s music, but only the good songs. “I don’t know why I agree to come with you on these things.”

At this Anna laughed and danced a bit offbeat to the song that was playing. She didn’t know the lyrics, but the bass line was nice and she could vibe with that. She let the whole song play out before answering.

“Because you loooove me” She sing-songed, earning another eye roll from the driver. “You love me and we’re going to the beach and it’s going to be a good time.”

“If I didn’t love you, would it still be a good time?” Elsa asked, smirking.

As a response, Anna reached over and changed the radio. A loud, bass-heavy rap song overtook the speakers. The signer immediately spitting out questionably appropriate lyrics for the radio. Elsa’s face reddened under her large glasses and she reached to change channels so quickly that she turned it off. Enveloping the small sedan in a brief silence till Anna’s laughter filled the space.

And it went on like this the entire car ride, bits and pieces of random songs rapidly changing. Anna would allow something Elsa liked to play out entirely but when it was her turn she either skipped around or Elsa changed the station for her. The older woman apparently hated both rap and country music. The first part Anna didn’t understand and the latter, she agreed with. She was desperately trying to find a gospel station, just to see her sister’s reaction, but she found nothing but commercials.

Finally, she heard what she was looking for and turned to see Elsa’s reaction just as the other girl reached over and turned the radio off again. Anna was going to protest when she realized they were in a drive-thru.

“What can I get started for you today?” a tired-sounding voice asked over the intercom.

Anna leaned over Elsa to get closer to the open window and thus the speaker box. Making sure to be just close enough to be annoying.

“We would like to get married please, with Elvis if you have him, if not we’ll take what you have.”

“Anna!” Elsa exclaimed, slapping her on the shoulder.

There was an audible sigh come over the loudspeaker, “Ma’am this is a Wendy’s.”

“Oh right, then I’ll take a cheeseburger and a medium Coke, no ice. Thank you!”

“Anything else?” the tired voice asked. “I’ll have the same thing.”

They continued driving towards the beach after the drive-thru. Cupholders full of sodas in flimsy paper cups, and Anna’s lap full of white paper bags of greasy food. She kept sneaking a fry when she thought Elsa wasn’t looking. But it was a small car and Elsa could see every bit of fried potato Anna took.

The closer they got to the beach, the darker the sky became. Tall looming clouds crept over the horizon. They couldn’t see the beach yet as it was the east coast, and most roads took you to the beach straight on instead of winding down cliff faces like the Pacific was famous for. But still, the clouds loomed. Elsa knew there was a storm somewhere off the coast, but it seemed far away last she checked, which wasn’t today. She refused to check the weather today for fear of bad news.

On the main highway, traffic was starting to get heavy, more tourists were headed for their long-awaited vacations and the road ahead was either congested to the point of slowing down. Or there was an accident and everyone had to slow to a crawl to creep a glance at the carnage.

Thankfully the girls weren’t tourists, unthankfully they lived close to this tiny town that became a major city in the summer months. Having to deal with millions of tourists every year meant that locals had a series of short-cuts. So when traffic started building, Elsa took the next exit rather suddenly, cutting across the solid white lines and nearly missing the crash barrier.

“Elsa! Shit! What the fuck!” Anna yelled and shot out her hands with nearly inhuman speed to catch the drinks before they spilled out of their too-small cupholders. “There’s a backup, I’m not sitting in that,” Elsa replied, taking the next turn so hard that the car nearly tilted on two wheels.

“But I saw flashing lights, it could have been a firetruck!”

“It could have been a police car…”

“But Elsa you don’t understand, the hot firemen! …and women.”

“Anna I’m not sitting in traffic for 30 minutes or even longer, just for you to ogle at people in uniform.”

Anna took another fry, “Not people in uniform, F-I-R-E-M-E-N and women. It is very different.”

Elsa let out a heavy sigh as they came to a stop at a red light. “If I buy you that stupid Australian calendar will you shut up?”

“Wow, harsh.” Anna dramatically threw one braid over her shoulder. “But, yes.”

Again, Elsa rolled her eyes and continued forward when the light changed. It was only a short while later that they left the main road and turned into a small, older housing development. The narrow street lead them all the way to the ocean, coming out on the far end of the main strip. Highrise condos and hotels dotted the skyline to their left, but right in front of them was the beach, concealed behind a short sand dune. Because life is a bitch like that sometimes.

Luckily for them, there was also free parking at this end if you didn’t mind a bit of a walk. Which, for the price of 17 bucks to park next to the beach, who wouldn’t mind the walk. 17 dollars could buy many cheeseburgers, Anna pointed out.

The beach wasn’t nearly as crowded down where they were, away from the boardwalk and the hotels. The sand also happened to be rockier, rough and pitted with long-forgotten footprints and broken shells. The beach groomers didn’t come this far. Which was fine by them, they would take a rough sandy beach with fewer people over a crowded hellscape any day.

There’s nothing more relaxing than simultaneously listening to eight different speakers all playing different music. While children screamed for no reason and the air was filled with a mix of sunscreen and cigarette smoke.

So yes they will miss out on the hot lifeguards and yes there will be fewer people to watch. But you can’t put a price on the quiet and the fresh air that this section of the beach had to offer.

After crossing the highway on foot, climbing the dune, and laying out their towels, only then did they pause to look out on the water. The ocean was angry, white caps dotted the surface as far as they could see. The horizon line was blurred with fog or rain and the dark clouds from before were more ominous than ever. Why the two women didn’t notice all these signs until now was some kind of act of God. Or stupidly. Probably the latter.

The beach itself was even more sparsely populated than normal. A smart person would have gone home after seeing all the warning signs. But this was Anna’s only day off for the next few weeks. And Elsa, well Elsa was too stubborn to admit her beach idea was a bad one.

They both laid down, on separate towels, choosing to ignore the warning signs and attempting to soak up as much sun as possible before it was swallowed by the coming storm. Elsa tried not to think about it too much. Neither was sure how long it had been before they were interpreted.

“What are you two gay ass losers doing?” Came a female voice.

“Ch’yeah it’s like gonna rain bruh.” Said a male’s.

Elsa opened one eye to see her cousin and her boyfriend, or so it fiancé now? Standing over them. The sky beyond them somehow looked even darker than before, which was very rude.

“Trying to enjoy the sunshine, obviously.” She mumbled in response.

“What sun?” their cousin asked, in a weird out of place, and badly performed accent.

“Wait but what is that voice?” Anna asked, sitting up and brushing the sand off her arms. How that girl could get sand everywhere, Elsa would never know.

“It’s like our new characters,” Eugene answered, earning not an eye roll from Rapunzel but a nod of approval.

“I’m New York and he’s Los Angeles. Both strong and independent cities that you could almost say are their own character. And those characters are us.” She added

“Why though?” Elsa was also now sitting up and confused, though nowhere near as sandy because she wasn’t a dirt gremlin-like her sister.

“Because we wanted to be unique characters, otherwise we’re just boring white people and where’s the fun in that?” Eugene or rather Los Angeles answered.

“Oh boring, like you watch Star Trek and try to fit it into everything even though it has no business being there?”

Eugene shot Anna finger guns, “exactly, this one gets it… bruh.”

A boom was heard in the distance and it sent a few people running towards their cars, towels billowing behind them. A long-distance away, over the water, there was a flash and with it, the wind picked up.

“Looks like our beach day is ruined, I’m sorry Anna.” Elsa stood and began to roll up her towel. Even with the limited sun, she was already red on her front, making a stark difference to the pale skin of her back.

“Nah we just getting started, come back to our place and play some ping pong. We just pulled the table out of storage.” Rapunzel aka New York offered. The two of them didn’t live far from the beach, having taken over Rapunzel’s parent’s beach house. It was very old and run down, but the pair was fixing it up in exchange for free rent.

‘Aye New York is right, and we can take my new whip… bruh.” Los Angeles gestured over his shoulder towards the dunes. They couldn’t see it yet because that dang dune was blocking things again. But everyone knew he was referring to his new golf cart.

Reluctantly the girls agreed and a few long minutes later they were rushing inside an old house to avoid the rain that had just started to fall. Their car was left abandoned in the free parking lot.

Inside was an odd mix of old and new. Brand new stainless steel appliances dotted a kitchen with dark wood cabinets and a yellow linoleum floor. A half-torn-down wall gave way to the living room with floor-to-ceiling wood paneling and floral print furniture.

“It ain’t much but it’s home.” Los Angeles said once everyone was inside. He walked beyond the torn-down wall and slapped his hand on the wood paneling. “New York over there hates this stuff, but it’s hella soundproof if you know what I mean.” With this, he wiggled his eyebrows and finally, earned an eye roll from New York.

“How did you know we were on the beach by the way?” Elsa asked as she took a step further into the kitchen to look at the collection of magnets on the fridge.

“Your sister posted about it on her tumblr of all places. Honestly, get an Instagram like the rest of us already.” New York said throwing her hands up dramatically. The drama ran in the family apparently.

The ping pong table was in the basement, a dimly light space with concrete walls and a tiled floor. Mix-matched chairs lined the walls and a mini-fridge sat in the corner next to a shelf full of liquor bottles.

The ping pong game quickly descended into beer pong with a twist. No one had to drink from the cups the ball landed in. Because that’s gross, don’t do that. Inside if someone managed to land the ball in a cup the other team had to take half a shot of vodka. Los Angeles had wanted to do full shots but Elsa and New York talked him out of it, if only for not dying reasons.

Even so after a few games with no true stand-out winner, just a bunch of dumb luck, they were all fairly buzzed. Flushed creeks and slurred speech. Outside the storm finally hit. Rain battered the small basement windows and thunder boomed overhead.

With each thunderclap, Elsa reached for Anna’s hand and wouldn’t let go till the other girl gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Finally, everyone seemed to have enough of the game and collapsed into bean bag bars that Anna and Elsa had both not noticed before. Elsa scooted her bean bag closer to Anna’s, the other two people didn’t seem to notice. New York was hanging all over Los Angeles. Her fingers tracing the curve of his jawline down, her eyes practically boring holes into his face. He acted like he didn’t see, but it was obvious he knew.

“You guys can stay here for the night if you want since the storm sounds so bad,” Eugene said, dropping his horrible accent.

“That’s very kind, but it’s just a little rain, we’ll be alright,” Anna replied, completely forgetting their car was many blocks away.

New York stopped messing with her man and turned to them. “Anna, it’s more than a little rain. It’s a hurricane, I mean it was a tropical storm and it was supposed to miss us. But you know how it be sometimes.” She said with amazing clarity for a drunkard.

Elsa’s hand shot to Anna’s and she let out an audible gasp. She had refused to check the weather before heading out the door today, figuring what she didn’t know, can’t hurt her. Which was stupid and out of character for someone who claims to be responsible.

Another boom followed by a bright flash of lightning illuminated the room for a brief second. Elsa looked terrified so Anna took it upon herself to change the subject.

“So we will be seeing you in two weeks right?”

Rapunzel playing New York smiled and clapped her hands together, “Yes! At the church!”

“For things better left unspoken,” Eugene playing Los Angeles groaned, covering his eyes with his forearm.

Another boom and the room was suddenly cast in darkness and accompanied by an eerie quiet. You never notice how much sound your electronics make till everything is off. Elsa grabbed Anna’s entire arm, holding it so tightly Anna was worried she would lose it.

“Ah fuck the power is out. We have some candles upstairs, I’ll be right back, Rapunzel can you see if the camping lantern is over on the shelf?”

“Um excuse me, it’s New York, but yes I will look.”

Two bodies moved away in the darkness, their paths illuminated by the small light on their phones. Next to Anna, Elsa’s breathing became rapid and she clung to Anna as if she was in danger of being blown away.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright,” Anna whispered, using her free hand to pet the top of Elsa’s head. The older girl shifted so in one fluid motion she was off her beanbag and on Anna’s before curling into the young girl’s side.

“I found it!” Rapunzel slash New York exclaimed. She turned it on and the room was partly lit up. She walked back to where the other two women were cuddled together and sat back down in her own beanbag.

“Wow, that’s like hella gay.” She said, pointing to the pair.

“Oh shut up, she just doesn’t like storms, you know that.” Anna quipped

Elsa let go of Anna’s arm long enough to extend a hand and flip off her cousin, earning her a laugh in response.

Eugene returned shortly after with the candles, a tray of food, and some cards. “Anyone up for a game of hurricane poker? It’s like regular poker only there’s a hurricane.”

He rejoined the group, placing the tray in the middle of everyone and paying no mind to the two women who now shared a beanbag.

Elsa lifted her head to look, the tray was adorned with a random assortment of food. Celery sticks, M&M’s, KitKat bars, Cheetos, Grapes, and some animal crackers. She made a face.

“What’s wrong uh bruh?” Eugene asked in a bad attempt to get back in character. Los Angeles would never quite be the character that New York was.

“I’ll only eat celery sticks if you pay me,” Elsa responded.

The next few hours consisted of Eugene completely wiping the floor with everyone. They played for the M&M’s, of which he now owned all of. With the power still out and the storm still raging on the decision was made for the sisters to spend the night over.

Their room was completely unrenovated, the same wood paneling from the living room made up the walls and the carpet was a thick green shag rug. Eugene was right about one thing though, the paneling sure did dampen the sound. Once the door was shut the two women could hardly hear anything, which was good because Rapunzel had started blasting Mandy Moore music for some reason.

There was only one bed, pushed into the corner, but it didn’t matter anyway. There could have been 80 beds and they still would have shared just one.

Anna laid down on her back and traced the grains in the wooden wall. “Really makes you want to carve something in this stuff you know? Something that would be around for hundreds of years.”

“Please don’t vandalize our cousin’s house,” Elsa said before sitting on the edge of the bed. She turned the lantern off so the only source of the light in the room was the candle on the nightstand.

“You alright?” Anna asked, propping herself up on one elbow.

“Yeah, I’m just worried about the storm, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Anna reached out and gently grabbed Elsa’s arm, guiding her back to lay in the bed next to her. “Do you want to sleep or keep your mind off things?”

Elsa paused for a brief moment before removing her arm from Anna’s grip. “I don’t know…”

“It’s your choice, either way, I’m here for you.” Anna smiled at her, a flash of lightning lit up the room but no thunder.

It startled Elsa but she remained where she was, staring at Anna. Thinking, always thinking.

“It’s just a storm and this old house seems to be built like a tank anyway.” She made a fist and pounded the wall to prove her point.

Elsa started twirling the end of one of Anna’s braids but her eyes remained locked on Anna’s. The delayed thunderclap came and Elsa inhaled sharply. Anna leaned over and kissed the top of her forehead.

“You sure this is okay?” Elsa asked and Anna nodded, running the back of her hand down the other girl’s cheek. “Let’s get our mind off of things then.”

Elsa crawled till she was straddling Anna who gazed up at her with eyes that shown like stars in the candlelight.

“What’s your favorite constellation?”

“Hmm, probably Orion, because you can find his belt so easy,” Anna answered, “Yours?” “Your eyes”

“Ew, that’s so fucking cheesy.”

Elsa leaned down, her mouth slightly agape. Anna’s eyes fluttered shut as her hands found their way to the other woman’s shoulders.

The storm, the damage, their car, all these things could wait until tomorrow. Tonight they were out of their control so for tonight they didn’t matter.

Elsa blew out the candle, and they both plunged into the sinful escape of the darkness.

#elsanna #submission #June 2021 contest #prompt: storm #lime #cw: alcohol use

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olderthannetfic · 5 years ago

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Hey, sorry to ask this, but a few days ago I saw a post/discussion about the history of original work on ao3 (i.e. how and when it was allowed). I thought it was in my likes, but it's not, and I thought you had reblogged it recently, but I didn't find it. I was wondering if you have seen this discussion around? Or where I can find more about it? This specific post talked abt how who defended original work on ao3 were not the BNFs, if that helps.

That was me running my mouth in the reblogs of something or other. It’s just the one comment.

But what’s that you say? Some tl;dr about a pet topic? Don’t mind if I do! ;) (To be honest, most of this debate happened years ago, and a lot of the long meta was by me back then too, so…)

Okay, so, the situation with Original Works is actually super interesting and a microcosm of early years OTW wank.

This is going to be even more tl;dr than my usual. To try to summarize very briefly:

There were two big cultural factions. One thought “original” was the opposite of “fan”. That one was in charge of OTW. It was hard to get voices from the other side into the debate because they already felt excluded from OTW.

This divide broke down more or less into Ye Olde Slash Fandom on the “it’s the opposite” side and anime fandom on the “WTF?” side. Americans on one side and a lot of non-US, non-English language fandom on the other.

I. Media Fandom, Anime Fandom, and Early OTW

I went to that first fundraising party that astolat threw in New York City back in… god… 2007? 2008? I wasn’t on the Board or any official position until the committees got started later, but I was around right from the very beginning.

Whether you’re looking at volunteers or at people who commented on astolat’s original post, there were always a variety of fans from a variety of fannish backgrounds. People aren’t absolutely in one camp or another, and fannish interests change over time. If you go dig through Dreamwidth posts to find who was actually participating in this debate at the time, half of them are probably in the other camp now.

If you think like that sounds like a preamble to me making a bunch of offensively sweeping generalizations and divvying fans up into little groups, you’d be right! Haha.

I.a. Ye Olde Media Fandom

There are a lot of camps of people who like fanfic. One of the biggest divisions has been Ye Olde Media Fandom vs. anime fandom. Astolat’s social circle–my LJ social circle–was filled with people with decades of fannish experience and a deep knowledge of the Media Fandom side of things.

Those fandom history treatises that start with K/S zines in Star Trek fandom in the 70s and move on through the mainstream buddy cops like Starsky & Hutch to the more niche, sff buddy cops like Fraser and Ray or Jim and Blair are talking about Media Fandom. I try to always capitalize it because the name is lulzy and bizarre to me unless it’s a proper noun for a specific historical thing. It was coined as a rude term for “mass media” fandom aka dumb people who like, ughhhh, Star Trek, ughhh, instead of books. This is a very ancient slapfight from the type of fandom you find at Worldcon, often called “SF fandom” or plain “fandom”.

(Yes, this leads to mega confusion on the part of some old dudes when they find Fanlore and fail to understand that “fandom” there refers to what these people would call “Media Fandom”. They think only they get the unmarked form. But I digress…)

Media Fandom is a specific flavor of fandom. It’s where the slash zines were. It’s where the fans of live action US TV shows were. It’s the history that acafans have laid out well and that tends to get used to defend the idea of a female subculture writing transgressive and transformative fanfic. On the video side, Media Fandom is where Kandy Fong invented vidding by making Star Trek slideshows.

(Kandy’s still around, BTW. She’s usually at Escapade in L.A. Ask her to tell you about the dancing penises sketch in person. She’s hilarious.)

Astolat and friends had been going to slash cons for years. They founded Vividcon. And Yuletide. That meant that when astolat said “Hey kids, let’s put on a show!” we all jumped to help. This is a lady who gets things done.

From a Worldcon perspective, or even from an older Media Fandom perspective, this group was comparatively young, hip, and welcoming. Their fandom interests were comparatively broad. Just look at Yuletide!

In fact, yes, let us look at Yuletide… [ominous music]

I.b. Yuletide sucks at anime

From the very first year (2003), Yuletide mods have asked for help with anime fandoms, been confused about anime fandoms, or made bad judgment calls about anime fandoms. They’ve fucked up on Superhero comics and plenty of other things over the years, but anime has been the most consistent (well, and JRPGs, but there’s so much overlap in those fic fandoms).

There was already bad feeling about this. There were years of bad feeling about this.

I.c. Where are the historians?

Academic study of fanficcy things pretty much got started with Textual Poachers and Enterprising Women. Other acafans who are well known to LJ and later Tumblr are people like Francesca Coppa who wrote a very nice summary of the history of Media Fandom. These are not the only academics who exist, these academics themselves have written about many other things, and by now, OTW’s own journal has covered a lot of other territory, but to this day I see complaints on Tumblr that “acafans” only care about K/S and oldschool slash fandom.

There were years of bad feeling about this as well.

I.d. What kind of fan was I?

Now, by the time OTW got started, I’d moseyed over to not only a lot of live action US TV but a lot of old-as-fuck US TV that is squarely in the Media Fandom camp. But once upon a time, I was a weeaboo hanging out with my weeaboo friends in college. I learned Japanese (sort of). I moved to Japan. Livin’ the weeaboo dream!

More importantly, I used to be a member of a lot of anime mailing lists back in the Yahoo Groups days. I didn’t realize what a cultural gap that would cause until the original works issue came up on AO3.

I.e. Anime Fandom, German-language Fandom, Original M/M

Once upon a time–namely in that Yahoo Groups era–there was an archive called Boys in Chains. It was where you found The Good Stuff™. Heavy kink and power exchange galore! It was extremely well known in the parts of fandom I was in, even if you weren’t on the associated mailing list. It contained lots of fic, but it also had lots of original work.

Around that same era, I was on a critique list called Crimson Ink, which was mixed fic and original. The “original slash” and “original yaoi” crowds mixed freely and were in fanfic spaces. Remember, this is like 2003. You’re never going to get your gay fantasy novel published in English in the US. A couple of fangirl presses started around then, but they died an ignominious death after their first print run.

Fanfiction.net used to allow original work before it spun that off into FictionPress. We forget this today, but if you were an early FFN person, the separation wasn’t so great either.

Meanwhile, German-language fandom was hanging out on sites like Animexx.de, a big-ass fic archive that prominently mentions also including original work. I have the impression that Spanish-language fandom was similar too.

Shousetsu Bang*Bang was founded in 2005. It was a webzine for original m/m, but it was entirely populated by fanfic fandom types.

In all of those kinds of spaces, there was a lot of “original” work that was kind of slash or BL-ish and seen as fannish if it was posted in the fannish space. These weren’t anime-only spaces. They were multifandom spaces where it was seen as obvious and normal that a couple of huge fandoms like Harry Potter would dominate but that everything else big would naturally be anime.

While fans from every background are everywhere, I found that the concentration of EFL fans living in Continental Europe, South America, and Asia was much higher in this kind of space, even the exclusively English language part of it, than in my US TV fandoms.

II. AO3 Early Adopters

AO3 went into closed beta in 2009. In 2010, it was open to the general public (albeit with the invitation queue it still has). But not everyone was interested yet. Just like fandom is loath to leave the dying, shambling mess of Tumblr, fandom was loath to leave dwindling LJ/DW circles or was happy enough on Fanfiction.net. I used to see a lot of posts like “Why are you guys trying to STEAL fanfic from the original! FFN is enough!”

I literally could not give away the invitations I had. No one wanted them.

So who was on AO3? Obviously enough, it was all of us who built it and our friends. So that means a bunch of oldschool Livejournal slashers coming from fandoms like Due South or Stargate Atlantis.

The queue was open. Anyone could make an account. Everyone was welcome. In theory…

But more and more, there started to be these posts about how “AO3 Hates Anime Fandom” and “FFN is for anime. AO3 is for Western fandoms.” and “If you guys actually wanted anime fandom on there, you’d invite us better and make us more welcome.”

At the time, I found these posts obnoxious. People aren’t purely in one sort of fandom or the other. No one was stopping anime fandom from making accounts. No one was banning anime fandom. If there wasn’t much from old fandoms, that was because old fandoms seldom move.

Things began to change. Trolls on FFN forced the Twilight porn writers out, creating enough fuss and brouhaha to mobilize people who would rather have stayed put. AO3 got big enough that randos found it by accident. Original work started to pop up, posted by people who’d never looked at the rules and had no idea it was not allowed.

III. History of AO3’s Policy

I had argued for allowing “original work” during the initial discussions about the ToS. On one side of this issue was me. On the other, everyone else on the committee.

I was overruled.

Open Door started importing old archives to save them. Boys in Chains was hugely important to fandom history from my point of view. It was slated to be imported… maybe. Except that Boys in Chains is half original. AO3 was happy to grandfather in those stories, but the final archive owner felt, quite rightly, that it would be unfair to tell half of the authors they were welcome in the new space while spitting on the other half.

I was pissed. I had been pissed since being overruled the first time. To me, the fact that it should be allowed was so blatantly obvious that it was hard to even explain why.

(To be honest, this difficulty in explaining why and the even greater difficulty in figuring out the source of that difficulty is what held the discussion back for so long. When every assumption on either side is completely opposite, it’s hard to communicate.)

I felt betrayed. It would be like if you helped build something, and everyone was suddenly like “Well, obviously, we can’t allow m/m. It’s not normal fanfic.”

So we discussed it again and, again, it was me vs. literally everyone else. And still the “AO3 is only for Western slash fandom” bitching rose in volume and more and more people complained of feeling excluded from the new fandom hub. Finally, the committee agreed to open the issue up for public comment and get some more input. I was a fool and neither wrote nor proofread the post. It went out phrasing the question as allowing “non fannish” work or something of that sort.

I was furious. The entire point of the whole debate was that I saw some original work, the original work that belongs on AO3, as inherently fannish. And now this had been presented to the AO3 audience as something completely different. Think pieces were popping up in the journals of everyone I knew about diluting AO3’s mission and how we needed to save AO3 from encroachment. Public opinion was very negative. That’s both because of how the post was phrased and because OTW die hards at the time were mostly from the same fannish background. This tidal wave of negativity meant that there was virtually no chance of changing this poisonous rule. And if the rule didn’t change, the people who wanted the rule change were never going to show up to explain why it mattered.

If you’ve been reading my tumblr, I think you can guess what happened next.

I posted a long post to my Dreamwidth. It was a masterwork of passive aggression. In it, I wrung my hands about how simply tragic it would be if AO3 had to delete all of the original work… like anthropomorfic.

Now, I think anthropomorfic counts as fanfic as much as anything else, but I also knew that it fails most rigorous “based on a canon” type definitions of fic and, more importantly, it’s a favorite Yuletide fandom of many of the people on the side that wanted to ban original work.

That’s a nice fandom of yours. It would be a pity if something happened to it.

Yup. Passive aggressive blackmail. Go me. Suddenly, there was a lot of awkward backtracking and confused running in circles in various journals. The committee agreed to table the idea for a while but not rule out the idea of allowing original works in the future. We agreed to halt all deletions of original work. If a fan posted it, the Abuse Committee (which I was also head of at the time) would not delete that work even though it was technically against the rules.

Time passed. The people on the negative side got tired. I wanted off that committee and had wanted off for ages, but I was damned if I was going to leave before ramming through this piece of policy. Grudgematch till I die! (Look, I never said I wasn’t a wanker.)

After a while, some other fans came forward with more types of “original work” as evidence that it should be allowed. These were from parts of fandom none of us on the committee knew a damn thing about.

This new evidence combined with the gradual accretion of original stuff on AO3 without the sky falling eventually led us to quietly rule Original Work a valid fandom. There was never even a big announcement post. I slipped a word to the Boys in Chains mod myself.

IV. What Were They So Afraid Of Anyway?

So why were people so resistant? Seems like a dick move, right?

Not exactly.

I mean, I was enraged and waged a one-woman war to change the rules, but the other side wasn’t nuts. The objections were usually the following:

I just don’t get why it would be allowed. It never was in my fannish spaces.

Most of our members don’t want this.

Most of the examples of things that ought to be included are m/m. We are privileging m/m if we allow it, and AO3 already has a m/m-centric reputation that can feel exclusionary to some fans.

AO3 is a young, shaky platform that can barely handle the load and content we already have. If we open to original work, we’ll be opening the floodgates. The volume of posting will be so high, it will drown out the fic we’re actually here to protect.

Protecting stuff that doesn’t need protection because it’s not an IP issue would dilute OTW’s mission.

If we allow it, idiots will try to turn AO3 into advertising space, posting only the first chapter and a link to where you can pay to read the rest.

If we add another category of text before we add fan art, that’s a slap in the face of the fan artists we are already failing.

These arguments all make perfect sense in context.

Obvously, the issue with the first two is that different fannish communities have different norms. I knew that a very large community disagreed with the then current AO3 policy, but since so few of them were around to comment, it seemed like a tiny fringe minority.

The m/m thing is… complex. M/M content with zero IP issues is at risk. It is always at risk in a way that even f/f is not (though f/f is also always at risk). Asking for m/m to be exactly equivalent to f/f or m/f in numbers, tropes, whatever is ignoring the historical realities. In our current moment of queer activism in the West, we treat all types of queerness as part of one community with one set of goals, but once you get to culture and art or even more specific activism, this forced homogenization is neither useful nor healthy.

OTOH, AO3 really did have PR problems related to the perception that we gave m/m fandom the kid glove treatment. That objection wasn’t coming from nowhere.

AO3 was shaky. It was tiny when I first brought up this argument. Hell, it wasn’t even in closed beta the first time we discussed this. Part of what made the quiet rules change possible was AO3 organically getting much bigger and OTW having to buy many more servers for unrelated reasons.

The “floodgates” thing was put to rest by tacitly allowing original work before the rules change. We had a period to study how fans actually behaved, and as I predicted, only a small amount of original work got posted. It was indeed mostly things like original BL-ish stories or original work that had been part of a mixed original/fic fest, exchange, zine, etc. Currently, the “Original Work” fandom on AO3 only has 76,348 works. That’s pretty big compared to individual fandoms but tiny compared to AO3’s current size.

The commercial argument was spurious because commercial spam had been against the rules from the very beginning. OH THE IRONY that nowadays AO3 has all these idiots trying to post the first chapter of their fanfic and then direct you to where you can buy the rest.

AO3 has plenty of fanfic of public domain works. One of the problems with gatekeeping original work is that any way you try to distinguish it (not based on a specific canon, not an IP issue, etc.) will apply to some set of obviously allowable fandoms.

As for fan art… OTW has failed fan artists. They needed protection as much as or even more than fic writers. Just look at Tumblr! If we had succeeded at making DeviantArt but allowing boners, fan art fandom could have been safe all these years. Or when Tumblr inevitably shat the bed, we could have scooped up all those people instead of them scattering to twitter and god knows where.

OTW has failed vidders too, at least in terms of preservation. I know I’m not the only one who thinks this. Other major people from like the first Board and shit have discussed this with me offline. Doing some kind of vidding project, possibly outside of OTW is on a lot of our to-do lists. But at least one of OTW’s biggest victories has been that copyright exemption. OTW has demonstrably done really positive things for vidders that other organizations and sites have not. As a vidder, I never expected to see good hosting for the actual video files, and I’m quite content.

But fan artists… yeah. That argument makes sense at least from a place of frustration.

BTW, for the love of god, if you’re a n00b to OTW stuff, please do not reblog this post excitedly telling me that hosting fan art is on OTW’s road map, so yay, good news. Someone always does that, and it’s so irritating. I haven’t been involved in OTW in years, but I used to be, and I know what is on the roadmap. The couple of you who do heavy lifting on sysadmin and coding and policy things are welcome to weigh in as usual. I know none of us like that we can’t host fan art. It’s not what we intended.

Nonetheless, I found this argument to be the perfect being the enemy of the good. If we can save more text now without losing much of anything, we should do it. The fact that we’re fucking up on the fan art front is not a reason to spread the misery around.

V. Is “Original” the Opposite of “Fanfic”?

Okay, so that tl;dr above is why “BNFs” were on one side and “nobodies” were on the other. BNFs from one cultural background founded OTW. BNFs from the other cultural background weren’t even aware that the debate was going on.

But what was the underlying philosophical problem in even having the conversation?

It took me a long time, but I finally worked it out: We had two completely different ways of categorizing writing, and they were so baked into how we phrased questions that everything ended up being unanswerable to the other side. Here is what I came up with:

Schema 1

Fanfic - based on someone else’s IP

Original Work - the opposite

Schema 2

Non-Fannish Work - School essays, stories you are writing to try to sell to a mainstream publisher

Fannish Work Type 1 - based on other people’s characters directly (i.e. fanfic) Type 2 - based on tropes or whatever (“original slash” and the like)

Now, in the current moment when half of Tumblr just got into Chinese webnovels and the m/m ebook industry is thriving in English, original, tropey, BL-ish work is no longer different from “things I am trying to sell”. But this is how the divide was circa 2005 on fannish websites, and it’s the divide that was driving this internal OTW debate.

VI. Let’s Summarize the Camps One More Time

So, again, the debate makes perfect sense if you understand who was involved.

On the mainstream “But that’s not fanfic? I’m confused?” side:

Big US TV fandoms in English

Fandom historians of K/S–>buddy cop slash–>SGA, etc.

Americans

On the other side:

Anime fandom

“Original slash” fandom that had already been chased off of everywhere

People upset that AO3 wasn’t farther on translating the interface and supporting non-English language fandom.

People upset about US-centrism in fandom

Yes, I am very white, very American, and by now very into old buddy cop shows, but this was basically how the breakdown worked. It meant that something that looked like a minor quibble to one side was really, really not.

#fandom history #fandom meta #original work #cowboyformitski

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asian-hero · 5 years ago

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Taking the Space Out of “Girl Friend”

A/N: Okay, since no one is requesting Momo, aka the woman who stole my heart, I’m taking this into my own hands (also, kinda wanna write a poly relationship with Momo, Shouto, and (Y/N) so let me know if that sounds interesting)

Summary: Momo Yaoyorozu is the perfect girl. She’s smart, pretty, kind, and she can even make any non living thing with her quirk. What else could you ask for? Although, she could stand to gain the ability to read the room better.

In other words, you attempt to tell Momo how you feel about her, only for her to assume you mean platonically. You know, as a “gal pal”

Words: 2,668

“Momo, I like you,”

She looked up from her homework, starring at you quizzically, “Oh, well I like you too!”

You sighed, shaking your head. “No, I mean I really like you. More than a friend,”

Pausing, she furrowed her eyebrows together, something that, while normally you found endearing, now you found outright annoying. How could someone look so cute and be so smart, yet be so dense when it came to confessions? Before you could even take it back, she smiled at you, and you could’ve sworn that you felt a beam of light shining from her.

“I think of you as my best friend as well! I’m so glad you told me!”

Feeling your eye twitch, it took almost every inch of self restraint to not just kiss her right then and there, to show her that you wanted her more than as just a “best friend.” Unfortunately for you, you both had no nerve to do so, and you also didn’t want to risk it. So, you feigned a smile, reaching out and patting her hand.

“Yeah, best friends.”

That was three weeks ago. Three weeks ago that you tried to tell Momo, your “best friend” and resident goddess of class 1-A that you liked her. No, not as a friend, though you didn’t mind being that. You wanted to tell her that you liked her romantically, but every time you try to, it either ends up with you losing your nerve, or her taking it the wrong way. No matter what you did, it seemed like she thought you were just being a good friend, all the compliments and cuddling and hand holding, all because you were a good friend. At first, you thought she was just trying to be nice and reject you kindly, not wanting to jeopardize your friendship, but after multiple attempts and questioning the rest of the girls, but now you’re wondering if she’s really just that oblivious to your advances. Either way, you were so close to pulling your hair out.

This is what led you to your current situation: laying out on your best friend Todoroki’s floor while you complained about the woman who seemed to live in your head rent free.

After your daily attempt to get Momo to realize that you had a crush on her had tired you out, you sought out the one person who would let you rant to your hearts content without judgement. Since this was a regular occurrence for you to just waltz into Todoroki’s room, it was no surprise to him when you slammed open his door, kicked it shut, and slumped down onto the floor.

After a few beats of silence, he cleared his throat. “So, Yaoyorozu?”

Your obnoxious groan was all the answer that he needed. Setting down his pen, he turned around in his chair to face you, or, your corpse-like state that you’d taken to.

“Are we going to sit here in silence or are you going to complain?”

Lifting your head up, you sent the boy a particularly nasty glare. You could see the ghost of a smile appear on his face, amused that he’d gotten a reaction out of you. Lifting yourself up, you flopped back down, this time on your back. As you stared up at the ceiling, you let out a lengthy sigh.

“This has got to be the tenth time I’ve told her that I like her,” Rubbing your face, you let out a frustrated sound, “No dancing around the bush, no being coy about it. I straight up told her that I like her, and she always tells me that I’m being such a ‘good friend.’ ”

“Ah, that’s rough.”

You snorted. “Thanks, Zuko.”

His response was throwing a crumpled piece of paper at your face. Sputtering, you sat up, sticking out your tongue in a childish manner. Once the two of you settled down, you frowned.

“Seriously, though, how many times do I need to tell her ‘I like you’ for her to get it? I mean, it’s not like I know if she even likes girls, so maybe I’m just being pushy. Oh my god, Todoroki, what if she doesn’t like girls? I could be making her uncomfortable and—“

“(Y/L/N), stop,” Seeing your panicked state, he moved closer, making sure that he gained your attention, “You’re being ridiculous. If Yaoyorozu didn’t like you she’d tell you. She isn’t that cruel.”

Tilting your head back, you took in a deep breath. “I know that, but I can’t help but feel like that.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, neither of you sure of what to say next. In all honesty, you were just glad that he was there with you, because you’d probably end up spiraling if it wasn’t for him. As much as you loved Momo, you were starting to get a little tired of pursuing her. You didn’t know just how much more you could take of her obliviousness. As you sat there, getting sadder by the minute, Todoroki finally spoke:

“We don’t have school tomorrow, right? Why don’t you just invite her on a date, and you can tell her how you feel,” He flicked your forehead, “With a bit more emphasis on the romantic part of your feelings.”

Rubbing the back of your neck, you looked towards the floor, feeling yourself grow hot. “I don’t know, what if she doesn’t even want to go?”

You could tell that he was starting to grow annoyed, with the way his breathing changed and his posture stiffened. Before you could even comment on it, he grabbed your phone, typing a quick message to the girl of your dreams. Gasping, you tackled him, trying to wrench your phone away from him.

“What the hell are you doing? Give it back!”

Your attempts were for naught, as he wasn’t even breaking a sweat trying to keep you away. A few seconds later a message was sent, asking Momo if she wanted to meet you at a local cafe, just the two of you. Looking as your message went from delivered to read, you let out a cry of embarrassment. Slamming your phone down, you pointed a finger at the boy.

“I can’t believe you! What makes you think I’m ready for this?”

He looked at you as if you were the stupidest person on the planet, “You’ve been trying to tell her for weeks! How is this my fault?”

“Yeah, but now I have to tell her without the crutch of ignoring her at school! If it were with a bunch of people, then I’d have no problem, but since it’s just the two of us—“

You were interrupted by a quiet ping coming from your phone. Hesitantly, you reached to pick up the offending object, carefully reading Momo’s message. After a few more seconds of silence, you felt yourself sink back onto the floor, sounding similar to a balloon losing its air. Your hands went to cover your face, not wanting anyone, specifically Todoroki, to see your embarrassed state.

“So,” He cleared his throat, unsure of how to proceed, “I’m assuming she agreed?”

“I’m meeting her at ten,”

He raised an eyebrow at your behavior. “Isn’t that a good thing? Why are you acting like she just rejected you?”

“Hey, Todoroki, I’m gonna need you to do me a huge favor,” You completely ignored his previous comment, too busy in your own thoughts instead.

“What is it?”

Looking at him directly, you spoke: “Turn me into an ice cube and chuck me into the ocean,”

You didn’t get the response you were hoping for, and instead you were chased out of his room and left with your own self-deprecating thoughts. To be honest, you were excited to hang out with Momo, but that didn’t mean you weren’t terrified of what was to come. When you told her how you felt about her, how would she react? Would she feel the same way, or would she just completely drop you as a friend entirely? You found yourself spiraling as you kept thinking of all of the negatives that you didn’t realize when you had passed out.

The only reason that you weren’t late for your “date” with Momo was because she had texted you, like the lovely person she is, saying that she was excited to see you. That was what shocked you awake at nine in the morning, and caused you to take five minutes out of your day to let out all of your panicked energy. You were able to manage, though, as you pulled through and got ready, albeit a little slower than usual, and by the time you were out the door it was a quarter till ten.

By the time you reached the cafe, you noticed Momo anxiously fiddling with her skirt. Walking towards her, you put on your bravest face and steeled yourself.

“Hey! Did I make you wait long?”

She seemed a bit startled by your boisterous entrance, as she jumped ever so slightly from her seat. Once she realized it was you, she let out an adorable smile, one that could melt even the coldest of hearts. “You’re fine, I just got here a little early,”

Taking your seat, you looked at the coffee in front of you. Tilting your head, you looked towards Momo, who seemed to be watching your every move. Once your eyes had met, she ducked her head, her face turning a nice shade of pink.

“You like iced coffee, right? With two pumps of vanilla syrup?”

You were surprised that she remembered your order, after all, the two of you had only gone out for coffee a handful of times before this, and you were usually with the rest of the girls. When you took a sip of the beverage, you let out a content hum, smiling back at the girl. “This is perfect, thanks.”

She seemed to grow even pinker at your words. “Ah, I’m glad you like it! I was worried that I’d gotten the wrong drink, or that it wasn’t the same as you usually get it, or—“

“Momo,” You started, giggling a bit when her attention snapped back to you, “It’s good, really. Don’t worry about it,”

She nodded her head, taking a few deep breaths before drinking her own beverage. As the two of you sat in silence, you couldn’t help that your eyes began to wander. You couldn’t help that your eyes travelled from her own, her beautiful gray eyes that felt almost like staring into a galaxy, to her cute little nose, all the way to her lips, which you guiltily admit that you’ve thought about on more than one occasion. You refused to let your eyes wander any further down, because firstly, you didn’t want to seem like some pervert, you knew your boundaries, and secondly, you knew that you’d end up flustered, and then she’d ask why you were flustered, and then the whole date would be ruined.

While you found yourself lost in thought, you didn’t notice that Momo was staring at you in a similar fashion, though she was a bit more subtle. Through quick glances she wondered just how unfair it was that you could look so beautiful while doing the most mundane things. She wondered how one person could make her feel a million butterflies all at once, and how one person could be at the center of her attention at all times.

At first, she thought her feelings were ones of jealousy. After all, you seemed to excel at anything you put your mind to, and it didn’t hurt that you were pretty. But, after getting to know you better, and hanging around you, she realized that the feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn’t an ugly one, no, rather, it was one of the most amazing feelings a person can experience.

She never did allow herself to tell you about them, though. It was too scary for her, she thought that you’d reject her immediately, and then she’d be left alone. No, she’d rather just keep to herself, where her feelings would be safe, and she could keep you by her side. It was certainly hard for her though, with all of the compliments you’d drown her in, and all of the times you’d remind her that you liked her. It’d get her hopes up, but she’d immediately crush those thoughts. She wouldn’t let herself feel those emotions.

But, in this one instance, with the both of you not so subtly checking the other out, the two of you had reached the same conclusion: you were both tired of hiding.

“Momo, I—“

“(Y/N)—“

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before letting out awkward laughs. She gestured towards you, smiling comfortingly.

“You go first,”

Looking at her, you calmed your nerves and nodded.

“I like you, Momo,”

Her face grew puzzled, as if she wasn’t quite sure what you were getting at. “I like you too?”

You groaned, shaking your head. Grabbing her hands you tried again. “No Momo, I like you, romantically.”

It took a few minutes for her to process your words, before erupting into the brightest shade of red imaginable.

“You mean—“

“Yes,”

“So, all this time you were—“

“Yes,”

Looking down at your entwined hands, she found herself even more puzzled than before. This entire time, you actually liked her? As in, the same way that she liked you? Was she dreaming? This had to be a dream, things like this wouldn’t happen to her.

As she was dealing with her own inner monologue, you felt yourself grow insecure. The devil on your shoulder was telling you that you made a huge mistake, that you made her uncomfortable. Puling your hands away, you rubbed the back of your neck.

“We can just, forget that this happened. Sorry,”

Momo’s head shot up, and for the first time, you noticed a look of desperation on her face.

“No!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but you understood nonetheless. “Yeah, I figured as much. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—“

She shook her head, taking your hand back in her own to silence you. “That’s not what I meant. I like you too,” Even though she felt so vulnerable and exposed, she kept eye contact with you, “In a romantic way.”

It was your turn for your face to heat up. You were either sleeping or dead and in heaven, there was no other way that this could be happening. Using your open hand, you went to pinch yourself. After feeling the sharp sting, you looked back to your intertwined hands, then back at her.

“This is,” You paused, trying to process everything, “Real?”

She giggled at your response. Once you saw her nodding her head, you couldn’t help but break into a huge grin. Squeezing her hand, you leaned closer, so that the two of you were inches apart. You could feel her breathing stop, and it took everything in you to not laugh. As you got even closer, you saw her eyes flutter shut, and although you very much wanted to kiss her, you didn’t want to rush into things. So, you opted to kissing her cheek, your lips pressing against her soft skin.

As you pulled away, you noticed the pout she gave you, though the blush staining her skin lessened the “menacing” effect. Laughing, you pinched her cheek, taking a sip of your drink.

“Maybe on the next date,”

When she hurriedly proposed that the two of you go out again tomorrow, you couldn’t help the warm feeling blossom in your stomach. Smiling, you agreed, wanting to get as much alone time with her as possible.

Though the two of you were inexperienced when it came to relationships, neither of you really cared. After all, you got the girl, and that’s what mattered the most.

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #momo yaoyozoru #yaoyorozu momo #yaoyorozu x reader #momo x reader #yaoyorozu momo x reader #momo yaoyorozu x reader

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marlahey · 4 years ago

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(and I'm feeling like) it was only ever you

a little voice fic pairings/characters: bess/samuel, general ensemble, ella the pupper being loved the most warnings: language, excessive sexual tension episode tags: fills in some of many gaps between 1.08 sea change and 1.09 sing what I can’t say cause I got wine drunk instead of finishing this before the finale as planned. +post-finale rating/warnings: explicit. read: resolved sexual tension aka les sexy times. lyrical title courtesy of: part of me – by the coast (watch their fanvid set to this song and prepare to cry) notes: so @brilligbraelig told me there was no fluffy fic in the tag, which– sorry. we’ve been in sad time hours for WEEKS and I blame the writers for never giving bess a moment’s peace. I’ve never really been one for cavity-inducing sweetness, not because I don’t love some pure joy, but as a writer I’m always a little more interested in the messier moments that just enough longing brings. if the question is ‘how many times do bess and samuel need to share a bed?’ the answer is yes. this is for the samuel and bess protection squad on twitter (join us!) for being the coolest group of people ever throughout this wild ride, and also for @missgoalie75 and her love of colton’s bedroom eyes. p.s: sometimes I ignore capitalization rules at will because of the vibe.

bess is tired.

saint c’s is quiet tonight; al shoos her away from the bar with a stern, surprisingly fatherly firmness and hands her a tray of shots. she blinks at him. there aren’t any parties of four left. he points at samuel, prisha, and benny loitering at the back of the club until she finishes. bess doesn’t follow. al sighs. “go have one with your friends on me, okay kid? i swear, watching you stress out sometimes is gonna give me an ulcer before my next birthday.” bess stammers a thank you and walks off with the alcohol before he can change his mind. she should apologize, she thinks. he’s been nothing but kind to her despite all the ways in which bess is hardly employee of the month right now. she should start an apology tour at the table, where prisha’s head is thrown back with laughter at something benny is saying, his hands outspread. these people are too good to her and she doesn’t deserve it, sometimes. samuel notices her first (like always it seems), tracking her progress across the room. he tilts his head, a silent okay? and she moves her mouth in an approximation of a smile. his own lips quirk, like he’s trying to smother a laugh. she should be annoyed; she’s just grateful they aren’t fighting anymore— or worse yet, that it’s weird. they still haven’t talked about that night. samuel seems perfectly content to pretend it never happened, except for the way he touches her with so much more ease than before— like he no longer has to hesitate before he’s pulling her in, taking her hand, squeezing her shoulder or the bend of her elbow in a way that’s more reassuring than bess can really describe. maybe there’s a song in there somewhere. “special delivery,” she announces at the approach. “drink fast, before al regrets giving us these.” “my man, my man,” benny croons. “we love you boss!” he calls, twisting to find al rolling his eyes from behind the register. the shots clink on the tabletop. bess hesitates, just a second, before leaning in to toast prisha. samuel’s eyes meet hers again over the rim of his glass. she tosses her head back before she can overthink any of it. “anyone want another?” benny and prisha grin; samuel shakes his head. bess does the mental math back to her last meal. one more certainly wouldn’t tip her over, but she’d be a fool not to recognize her own unsettledness. she springs for second shelf tequila; al smacks her hand away from the limes she’d cut herself not two hours ago. “no reaching over, you know that.” the closing porter pours and dishes lime and salt with disinterested, immaculate practice. bess presses an extra five into his hand and gets a silent tap on the inside of her wrist in thanks. she’s not normally into the whole process of tequila, but benny enjoys it. something silly in bess hopes that the bursting sting of lime will just wash all her chaos away. by the time she’s tilted her head back down a second time, samuel’s eyes are sliding away. her throat is curiously warmer than liquor normally manages. it feels like she’s caught him at something. “earth to bess!” “hmm?” prisha looks amused, damn her. “you up for it?” “up for what?” benny’s smile is equally conspiratory. “dancing?” her first instinct is god, no. she and prisha haven’t gone dancing in what feels like years— bess still has a fake ID from the one and only time they snuck into a club at 19 years old, skipping the bar entirely for the pulsing beat of the dance floor. but she deserves this, doesn’t she? after everything? everyone’s looking at her now, probably expecting her to say no (samuel’s definitely expecting her to say no), and maybe bess needs another shot after all because, “sure.” tumbles out of her mouth before she can stop it. prisha and benny high five. samuel’s muted surprise is oddly delightful; bess wants to keep pulling it out of him, suddenly. “you coming too?” she asks. it’s not supposed to be a challenge but he raises one eyebrow as though bess had just asked him to duel. “well i’d be lame if I said no now, wouldn’t i?” that settled, bess excuses herself to grab her things from the back room. when she returns, benny is chatting with their night porter as he divides tips. she has to swallow an anxious lump before she can walk over. “hey.” “hey.” he returns her tentative smile and she hates herself. “ready to go?” “i’m sorry,” bess blurts. “about the other night. i was so awful to you and you were just—” “bess, hey.” benny’s hands land on her shoulders. “don’t worry about it, okay? i know you have a lot going on right now.” “that’s not an excuse,” she insists. “you’re just being a good friend and a great manager and i shouldn’t have bit your head off for...” for not letting me give up. shame locks the words in her throat. how is it that she was the first person to let go of her own dream? bess has to take a deep breath. “i’m just really sorry.” he just looks at her for a long moment. “if i forgive you,” benny begins gently, “will you forgive yourself?” the question feels like a sucker punch. “cause i do, bess.” she can’t remember the last time one of her dearest friends was so serious. “i forgive you, and you gotta forgive yourself now cause we got work to do, yeah?” good god, do not cry. “okay.” “okay.” benny pulls her into a hug, squeezing tight. “we got you girl, alright? i told you, we’re in this together.” those are familiar words. bess lets them wash over her. how had she forgotten? where had she let herself fall that her friends couldn’t pull her back into the light? “c’mon.” bess accepts her saint c’s envelope with a grateful smile and benny steers her out of the club, his arm around her shoulders. “there’s fun to be had tonight.” “let’s go, bess!” she lets prisha drag her forward, laughing despite herself and looping her arm through her best friend’s as they head out into the warm night air. “where the heck are those boys?” prisha asks at the next corner. benny and samuel of course, are following at a more sedated pace to her one track mind. bess catches samuel’s eye and he smiles in that crooked, amused sort of way she hasn’t seen in ages— not since they shot more love, it feels like. relief is such a strange feeling for the moment, but there it is. * bess isn’t tired anymore. she has no idea when she became such a homebody (though louie’s social worker may thoughts) but her exhaustion from the day seems to disappear the moment the bass finds a home behind her ribs. prisha presses a tiny glass into her hand and bess doesn’t think. the vodka sears on the way down. it makes her gasp a little, like a livewire shock to the system. bess can only look up to see samuel wave from the bar before benny’s dragging her onto the floor; she loses sight of him in the crush of bodies and the pulse of the music carries her away. samuel’s still there, some two or three songs later. just before they lock eyes, bess notices something very serious in his expression, something she can’t put into words fast enough, that draws a strange shiver from the base of her spine. then he smiles, familiar laugh lines and narrowed eyes, and it’s gone. bess remembers the way he’d so easily coaxed her into a silly dance set to their own music. have things gotten so strange between them that they could never go back there? not if she has anything to say about it. “I’m not drunk enough yet,” he objects, but his fingers close around hers even as he says it and she knows she’s won. samuel follows her so easily back to benny and prisha– like he’d follow her anywhere maybe, if she asked, and then suddenly bess is the one not quite drunk enough— and then the beat pulls them in again. it’s silly at first, just like before. at one point samuel and benny do the chicken dance to a hip-hop song and bess thinks she might die with laughter. she presses against prisha, hips and shoulders. her best friend spins her out; bess nearly stumbles but samuel is there, catching her by the elbows, drawing her in with that same teasing smile that had eased her nerves on that warm summer afternoon. she can see the memory of it reflected in his eyes. bess wants to fall into it headfirst. she steps closer just as samuel pulls her in; her hand lands on the back of his neck; his fingertips slip under the hem of her top and brush the shy skin of her hip. samuel pauses, like a silent question, until bess coaxes his body back into the swaying rhythm with her own. her head feels heady, her body overwarm almost, but bess doesn’t want to stop because there it is again, that serious look— bess wants— “dance, dance, dance is my lung—” “fuck no!” the moment—or whatever that was—grinds to a halt. samuel laughs so hard that she can feel his shoulders shaking. for several seconds they just look at each other, then over at benny who’s having the time of his life, and then bess is doubling over too. samuel leans close to be heard over the din. “drink?” his breath brushes her ear and bess tries not to shiver, nodding enthusiastically in a vain attempt to cover for herself. they’ve lost prisha and benny to the worst song ever, so samuel keeps a firm grip on her hand as they snake their way back to the bar. there must be some kind of special on shots tonight. bess can only stare at a bartender pouring no less than twelve in a perfect row for a huge group of women. one is wearing a tiara and white sash. that trying not to laugh smile tilts samuel’s mouth while they wait their turn. the sardine pack of people presses them together from hip to shoulder but he doesn’t seem to mind. the bar curves around in a skinny oval, drinks being served on either side. as servers slide back and forth, bess notices a guy looking at her from across the way. staring, more like it. the glint in his eyes makes her stomach turn. before bess can glare, turn away, or even shudder, samuel’s arm slides around her. his fingertips trace the curves of her rings on the bartop— affectionate, possessive almost. bess turns her head and samuel winks before leaning forward to touch their foreheads together. “pretend i just told you something hilarious.” his mouth hovering over hers is almost too distracting— his free hand pinches her side to help her along and giggles jump out. bess doesn’t resist when samuel tightens his grip and pulls her closer against him. he presses his mouth to her temple just above her ear. “he’s gone.” bess does shudder now, though for a different reason altogether. “thanks.” samuel just squeezes her once before releasing her. their shots arrive finally, amber liquid glowing strangely in the light. “still good?” he asks, and bess nods firmly. “still good.” she meets his eyes as she brings the shot to her mouth. samuel is still looking at her when she puts the glass back down. inside her, it seems. “c’mon.” he says. samuel looks almost fond now. bess blinks; a trick of the light? is she that tipsy already? “we’d better go find those two.” she just takes his hand and follows. * bess is... well. she’s not sober. benny had waved goodbye from an uber outside the club. they’d made it three quarters of the way to the subway station before ananya had called, quickly devolving into an impassioned conversation and prish too, vanished into a cab and promising to call when she got to her— girlfriend’s? house. “have fun you two!” and now: “i’m fine, sam.” his mouth twitches. “don’t think so, b.” yikes, she hates that. bess rolls her eyes, pointing at her station stairway. “you’re literally going in the opposite direction. it’s like...” she has to look at their cross streets and do the math. “eight stops. at the most.” samuel nods. “all about figure eights. love an even number. let’s go.” bess knows she should just let this go and stop being so stubborn. but something in her just can’t be stopped. samuel sighs, dragging her by the elbow across the sidewalk, out of the way of a clearly aggrieved businessman who disappears down the steps. “bess. just tell me something.” it’s hard to meet his eyes, intent as they are. “would you let prisha take the train home by herself tonight? if you were going... I dunno, home with me?” her stomach flips, surprising, terrifying, thrillingly pleasant. it’s all the shots. samuel’s ears go pink under the glow of the streetlight. “you know what i mean.” she’s stubbornly quiet; he ducks his head, refusing to be deterred. “bess.” “ugh, no. of course not!” “because you think she can’t take care of herself?” bess rolls her eyes. “she’s my best friend, you know that. it’s just what you do.” “right.” she hates the way samuel’s looking at her now, the way he had when he’d laid all her fears out bare in the close space of his apartment: so certain and so kind. “so why do you think i’d let you take the train home alone?” for a moment, she can only stare. maybe it’s the alcohol, but samuel has never quite looked so vulnerable. bess doesn’t have the right words (maybe there aren’t any) so she just drags him forward by the shoulders. samuel exhales sharply, a faint laugh in her ear, but he wraps both his arms tight around her— an embrace that somehow feels more intimate than their pretence from hours before. bess endeavours not to think about it too much. “c’mon bestie,” she says when she pulls back. samuel does laugh fully this time, wide enough to show his teeth. bess thinks back to the night of their first gig, the sound of his valerie chasing hers in echoes. it’s a wonder anyone’s more stubborn that she is. samuel ushers her down the stairs with a sweep of his arm and bess laughs too. * bess loves her dog. she’d convinced samuel he should probably come in for water, or tea, maybe an advil. ella had poked her head out from bess’ room and when she turns around from her perusal of the fridge, bess finds samuel fully sitting on the floor, ella laying between his legs, stroking her head. “who’s my sweetest girl?” he coos. her heart something funny inside her chest. samuel looks up, his obvious joy so bright in the dim light of the kitchen and bess is nearly choked with the possibility that she’d nearly pushed him too far away to ever see it again. “bess,” he says, his cheeks dimpling, “her ears are so soft. like, they’re the softest thing i’ve maybe ever felt in my life?” wonder of wonders. she can only nod in emphatic agreement. how many shots have they had? “you’re lucky,” samuel continues, still making ella’s night by never stopping in his affection. bess’ eyes get stuck on his hands, the motion of his fingertips and the turns of his wrists. “my parents never let us have pets and my building doesn’t allow them either.” “you know ella would love if you came over and pet her all the time.” she gets that muted surprise again, which melts into something bess isn’t sure how to name. “would you like that, el? hmm?” he leans down to kiss the top of the dog’s head. “wanna spend more time with uncle samuel?” how is it that her most loyal companion is somehow more intimate with samuel than bess is? and why on earth would she ever have a thought like that? “so,” she says, maybe a bit too high-pitched for her own liking (ella looks up at her and bess wants to glare), “we have water, tea, popsicles, half a bottle of jack.” samuel laughs and shakes his head. “i thought we were sobering up?” bess shrugs. “so, popsicle?” he laughs again and it warms her inexplicably all the way to her toes. they have water, following ella into bess’ room, toeing out of their shoes when she jumps onto the bed. the dog puts her head on samuel’s lap and stares balefully up at him until he resumes his gentle stroking. bess leans back against her wall. she’s looking at ella and pretending she can’t feel the heat of samuel’s gaze on her face. if she thinks too hard about it, bess remembers wishing she could share a moment like this with someone else. she doesn’t regret anything that lead her here, but something in her is too afraid to meet samuel’s eye, like he’d be able to read the truth of that in her face and that she’d have somehow ruined tonight, this quiet moment of warmth and contentment. she leans her head on his shoulder and he turns his cheek into her hair. when bess finally looks up, samuel’s face is vey close. is he looking at her mouth? is she leaning? “are you drunk, bess?” he asks softly. she stops. considers. “yes. you?” samuel’s smile is a little rueful. he nods. “i should go.” bess understands. it’s late. they’re tired and inebriated. he has to go all the way back to his. they almost... and yet she says, “stay.” he blinks. “what?” this might be a terrible idea. “stay.” “but—” she rolls her eyes. “what makes you think i’d let you go home alone either?” the surprise is plain now. he looks that almost-vulnerable again. bess is oddly satisfied. “are you sure?” it’s strangely hard to keep his eye even as she points out, “we’re fine, right?” he nods again, a little slower. “and it’s not like we’ve never shared a bed.” when bess finally manages it, samuel’s gaze is very soft. “true.” and just when she thinks he’s going to refuse her still, he says, “okay. thanks.” how do you tell someone out that you just don’t want to be alone out loud? thankfully samuel doesn’t make her voice it. he just smiles as bess gathers something approximating pyjamas and crosses the room. “sorry i don’t have anything that would fit you,” (he snorts and she’s warmed) “but you know, make yourself comfortable however. come get a toothbrush from under the sink.” and so that’s how they end up side-by-side in the cramped bathroom of her and prisha’s apartment, brushing their teeth. samuel makes faces at her in the mirror and it should be strange, to be t-shirt and shorts/boxers open with him. but he’s seen down into the root of who she is, so isn’t all this less? he’s humming something familiar as she washes her face, catching her surprised reflection. “it’s yours.” bess casts her mind back. “from–” “that first night, yeah.” she nearly drops her face towel. bess has never shown him that song. samuel shakes his head with a chuckle, a familiar you’re a weirdo. “it would be just like you to play something that gets eight bars stuck in my head for months and never sing it again.” “i...” bess can’t pinpoint a reason besides her own fear, like a karmic penance for one of the most humiliating nights of her life. “i can’t believe you remember.” there’s a truth in his eyes that neither of them are willing to admit they can see. “wanna work on it?” she asks impulsively, determined now to redraw a better memory, “maybe tomorrow?” samuel’s grin is so wide it’s almost hard to take in all at once. “this mean you’re gonna actually do that open mic?” bess shrugs. she needs to escape this tiny room all of a sudden. “maybe.” he doesn’t push her further and she’s grateful. samuel hesitates at the edge of her bed as bess pulls up the cover. “oh my god, just get in the bed samuel.” and he does. their knees touch. bess turns out the light but there’s still just enough to see him looking at her. drunkenness has made her warm and sleepy. “what?” “for the record,” he says, “i know what i think of you.” it feels like they’re teetering on an edge. “cool grandpa?” they laugh so hard that ella jumps from the foot of the bed. samuel looks so fond that bess doesn’t know what to do with herself. “yeah. that’s it.” “night samuel,” she whispers. “night bess.” * (she wakes up before the sun, tangled up in him. for once, rather than overthink it, bess just closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.) * bess can’t stop smiling. before she could even look at samuel after getting offstage, benny had lifted her off her feet and proceeded to all but bulldoze everyone in the club to get her in front of jeremy’s record label contact. could he tell that she’d just been kissed within an inch of her life? it feels like it’s written all over her face. bess can barely remember what she said, but his personal contact card is currently burning a whole though her purse. al buys them a round. (she finds ethan lingering in the back. what he says to her is somehow a surprise and not both at once. what she says to him, in the end, feels long overdue.) prisha insists everyone come back to their place to celebrate, and they pile into ubers. louie exalts her as a true artist the entire ride and even phil seems impressed. true to form though, he’s a roledex of weather facts as bess and prisha frantically pull out every candle or flashlight in the apartment; their lights flicker ominiously every so often as the storm beats down their windows. benny puts a playlist together and tries to order pizza. by some miracle, it actually arrives; everyone pools together for a 150% tip. so it feels like ages before bess looks up to find samuel leaning against the alcove of her living room, watching as louie begins a spirited debate on the best numbers in hamilton. bess nods her head toward the door of her bedroom. she’s expecting him to make a silly face with his eyebrows or hesitate, but samuel’s mouth just curves up on one side, like that’s all he’s allowing himself, and follows. “for the record,” he says as the sounds of the party fade a little behind them, “the answer will always be satisfied. no contest.” god, how had she never seen him before? her bedside lamp is still working. bess fishes out a pale white whale from childhood, one that changes colour as you tap. she grins at samuel, who’s leaning against her closed door and smiling like he’s not even sure what to make of her. “you’re incredible, you know that?” her face heats, pride and embarrassment both at once. “so are you. i can’t believe we got through that song.” “all you, bess.” she wants to roll her eyes, but refrains. “the electric was a great idea.” samuel’s eyes drop when he smiles; the familiar humility in it reminds bess of the reason she wanted to talk to him in the first place. “i know what you did tonight. before you showed up.” he looks up then, a little sharply. samuel’s always had a good poker face but bess can see it still, that guarded look. “what did i do, bess?” saying it out loud makes her feel like she’s in a movie. bess steps forward. “you told ethan to come. for me.” “are you upset?” “no. i just want to understand why.” samuel’s gaze is as steady as it’s ever been. “i just want you to be happy.” she feels unraveled, somehow. “then why did you...” even in the poor light, he flushes. “why did you kiss me?” samuel looks at the floor, then back at bess. her heart beats in double time. “he didn’t show, or so I thought. and I didn’t want to...” he laughs lightly, almost at himself. “throw away my shot. I guess I wasn’t really expecting you to—” try to press him into the wall? “to kiss me back, or even what that might mean, but I wanted to show you, or tell you that—” she’s close enough to touch him now. samuel’s hands cup her elbows, very gently, like he needs to ground himself. but he looks bess right in the eye. “even if you didn’t want me, i’d choose you first. every time.” her heart free-falls. “bess.” he squeezes a little, catching her eyes. how long have they been standing in this moment of after? “please say something.” “i told him we couldn’t work,” she says in a rush. “and i don’t even know if it was really because you and I—” bess stumbles but samuel hangs on, his grip on her unwavering, “but i think part of me always knew it was just...like, a fantasy? we barely even knew each other and i always hated myself a little for being that girl trying to steal someone else’s partner and i wasn’t dealing with any of my shit until—” samuel just waits. the realization feels too big, but there’s no going back now. “until i met you.” he looks almost stricken. bess lets out a strange, wondrous kind of laugh. she puts her hand on samuel’s chest. she’s the one who needs steadying, now. he draws her closer without looking away from her face, like he’s helpless to it. bess can’t remember the last time she felt so sure of anything. all those those expressions that always felt hidden in his eyes seem so plain, now: surprise, fear, hope. “i choose you, samuel. though i probably don’t even deserve to.” she can see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. samuel’s hand brushes her hair back away from her face, tracking the curve of her ear. just before she’s about to freak out, he asks, “are you drunk, bess?” she nearly laughs. “no. are you drunk, samuel?” he shakes his head. she understands that serious look, now. it’s wanting. he wants her. samuel goes to pull her the rest of the way in— “bess!” louie’s voice and a loud knock on the door springs them apart. the lights go out. “bess, we’re going now. and the lights are out. do you have a source of light in there? are you coming to say goodbye?” samuel lets out a long, low “fuck.” she has to clap her hand over her mouth. his nearly silent laugh ghosts over her skin as he presses his face into the curve of her neck. (samuel kisses her there, just once, but it’s enough that her knees tremble a little and she can feel the shape of his smile too.) “i’ll be right out!” bess calls to her brother. his shadow moves away from the door. hysterical giggles shake her shoulders. samuel’s hands slide up to hold her face. “do you wanna—” “come home with me.” she can barely make out his features in the dark (except for the want) but bess’ stomach drops anyway. the irony of no electricity is funny when she feels like sparks might burst from beneath her skin. “okay.” * bess is deliriously happy. samuel puts down his guitar and barely lets the door close before he’s pressing bess against it with both hands. his palms are heavy and warm on her hipbones; bess wants to rock up against him but there’s a certain thrill in it, how strong he seems. she has no idea the last time she was kissed like this. despite how fierce it feels, samuel lets her lead. he doesn’t open his mouth until she does, touches his tongue tentatively against hers at first pass, tugs so gently on her lip with his teeth until she makes a noise like a whimper. she should tell him maybe, that samuel made her completely forget herself, back in the alcove at saint c’s. but then bess just lets her hands find their way back into his now slightly damp hair. she’ll just relive it instead. she scrapes her nails over his scalp and samuel’s breath comes up short; it returns in something that sounds like a groan, or a snarl, and oh. bess has to take deep breaths of her own when he pulls back, a wide-eyed glance to her face to make sure she’s alright. she can only nod. samuel’s fingertips squeeze her waist as some of that urgency seems to fade from his eyes. he trails his mouth slowly from her lips to her jaw; she tilts her head instinctively to give him room and samuel finds that same spot on her neck from her own bedroom. his teeth and tongue press a little harder than before; he gets a gasp for his efforts. her legs feel unsteady again. bess grabs at the open sides of his button-down until samuel shrugs out of it. it drops to their feet. he doesn’t protest when bess pushes him gently, walking backwards across the apartment with his arm tight around her. he doesn’t let go when his legs meet the edge of his bed. bess would fall into him if not for samuel keeping them upright. he drops to sit, pulling them apart, and finally bess has to take stock of herself. samuel’s face is so open, his smile so wide in a way she’s never seen before. “still good?” he asks. bess nods. “still good?” samuel laughs lightly. “i’m great, bess.” he reaches for her hand, his thumb brushing each of her rings in turn. “we can stop whenever you want.” she’s the one standing but bess feels smaller, strangely. instead of replying, bess steps out of her shoes. samuel’s eyes seem to darken as she slides her jacket from her shoulders and lets it pool on the floor. bess leans down and brings one knee to the bed, by his hip, balancing herself with one hand on his shoulder. samuel’s inhale is impossibly loud as he instinctively supports her with a sliding grip up the back of her thigh. bess’ skirt isn’t that short but she’s glad she didn’t trade it for jeans before she left. samuel’s face betrays how pleased he seems by her choice. once she’s finished effectively straddling him, bess looks down from her perch. “hi.” samuel’s knuckles stroke up and down her leg. goosebumps ripple and he smiles. “hi.” bess takes his face in both her hands and leans down as samuel tilts his chin up to meet her. she’ll never tire of kissing him. it feels like she can’t get close enough; he must have the same idea because his arms wrap around her back until bess is sitting firmly in his lap, their hips slotted together. “can i touch you?” samuel asks against her mouth. bess nods, maybe too quickly, but she can’t bring herself to be embarrassed. guitar callused fingers slide beneath her top. samuel reaches the slim band of her lacy bralette. he pauses, but bess leans into his hand and then he’s tracing the curve of her breast. his thumb brushes a little roughly over her nipple; bess feels an abrupt ache between her legs. “that seems pretty,” samuel murmurs in her ear, like a casual observation. “it’s a matching set,” she replies, trying not to sound too breathless. “for luck.” he pulls back with wide eyes. bess wants to laugh but she’s too busy dealing with this rush of blood to her face. she sits up carefully so they don’t knock heads and reaches for the edges of samuel’s t shirt first; he drags it over his head in one smooth, practiced motion. shit, he’s hot. he’s staring as bess unfolds herself to stand back on the floor (her legs are still unsteady but he doesn’t need to know that) and goes to pull off her own shirt. samuel’s eyes don’t leave her face until the fabric coming over her head pulls her from view. when bess blinks him back into focus, he’s gone a little slack-jawed. she nods at his jeans and the speed at which samuel divests himself of them has her biting back a giggle. bess’ face feels hot but there’s a frisson of pride that straightens her spine. she’s not even half an arm’s length away from him. samuel touches her stomach, just above the waistband of her skirt. “can I?” bess has to swallow before she can nod. just like before, samuel stares at her face until the last half of her outfit joins the rest of their clothes in a heap. samuel’s eyes trail from her eyes to her feet and back. it takes everything in bess not to fidget. she expects to see heat in his expression but there’s only wonderment and tenderness. “fuck, you’re so beautiful.” she has no idea what to do with that. samuel tugs her into his lap this time, intent. his kiss is searing. bess rocks into him, just once, just a little. that grip on her thighs returns, tighter. bess can only gasp a laugh into his mouth when samuel stands, holding her up against him, and turns to lower her with a kind of breathtakingly slow care onto his bed. bess lands on her back, samuel now the one leaning over her. desire coils low in her stomach. he gently shifts her hips so they’re both actually parallel with the long edges of the comforter. she feels inexplicably, unbearably, fond of him. then samuel looks away. he exhales, like he’s embarrassed. bess frowns in concern. “what is it?” samuel shakes his head. “when you look at me like that, I can’t catch my breath.” oh. it feels so strange to be the steadier one. bess reaches for his cheek, drawing samuel’s eyes back to her. “guess you’ll just have to distract me, then.” he laughs, but then as he leans down, samuel’s smile fades and bess remembers. he wants her. she can feel it. his hand slides, pleasantly rough, over her skin, sliding beneath the band of her bralette. bess seizes samuel’s lip in her teeth as he strokes back over her breast. he teases her nipple and the moment bess manages to wriggle out of the garment and tosses it away, samuel’s swapped his hand with his tongue, her other breast now teased by his clever fingers. she gasps again and she can feel him smirking. samuel diverts his mouth’s attention to her other side. bess focuses on her breathing. the storm still lashes against the windows but it feels like nothing compared to the roaring in her blood. bess slides her fingers up the nape of samuel’s neck and a few things happen at once: samuel’s free hand finds the damp junction between her legs; bess pulls his hair a tiny bit harder than intended; his teeth catch her nipple with just enough firmness that bess’ back nearly arches off the bed, along with a keening noise she didn’t even realize she could make. samuel freezes immediately. he looks up and bess has no idea what her face looks like, but all she can say is, “do that again.” he leans back down, his teeth scraping over her other breast; when he tugs, bess does too, so hard that samuel hisses. “sorry,” she pants, “sorry.” he shakes his head, a firm denial. it might be the dark, the lightning, or the fact that bess is so fucking turned on, but samuel’s expression has veered far past wanting— into hunger. he practically leaps back up to her mouth, a kiss so fierce that their teeth nearly clack together. “your hands,” he says, like it enrages him almost, “in my hair, holy fuck.” oh was right. “you’re one to talk about hands,” bess retorts. “can you please just–” samuel leans back. “can i please just what?” he looks smug the bastard. it would be like them to bicker in the middle of sex, wouldn’t it? but his tone is so serious when he says, “tell me what you want, bess.” that she has to squeeze her thighs together. “please touch me.” “where?” bess is going to kill him. samuel touches her cheek with surprising gentleness, and kisses her there. “here?” he does the same to her neck. “here?” her shoulder. he marks the valley of her breasts, the slope of her navel, the jut of her pelvic bone. “samuel,” bess says. it sounds like a plea but she doesn’t care. she can only reach his shoulder now, the back of his neck. he may have shivered but she can’t tell because she’s too busy trying to keep it together. he finally finds the elastic of her underwear. “okay, bess?” this question isn’t a joke. bess makes sure to meet samuel’s eye; the mixture of that desire and care makes her dizzy. “yes. please.” when his fingers have finally slid inside her, bess says “samuel,” at a level of breathlessness she only ever gets when she sings. he touches her with the same care and confidence as he does any of their instruments, until her legs tremble; samuel finds a beat with his tongue against her clit that’s so good bess has to cover her mouth when she comes. samuel crawls back up the bed towards her. he leaves a kiss on the inside of her knee, and her shoulder, just an inch or two from where he had the first night she’d stayed here. bess feels very safe, suddenly. “still good?” samuel asks again, a more raw edge to the question this time. bess can only affirm silently as she leans up a little to kiss him. she can taste herself in his mouth, can feel the weight of his arousal against her. bess presses up and samuel groans. heat pulses again between her legs. “do you want,” bess starts, putting her hands on him, straining against his boxers. samuel’s whole body seems to twitch. he pulls her wrists away though with a bruising kiss. “i’m just dying to be inside you, if that’s cool.” her stomach flips. “very cool.” samuel smiles and goes willingly when bess rolls them over. he reaches blindly into a bedside drawer. bess catches sight of a pair of glasses and makes a mental note to ask about them when her mind’s not currently so occupied. “shit, are these even in date?” samuel squints at the packet in his hand. “god, have i not had sex in this long?” bess can’t help but laugh. they giggle their way through confirming the expiry date, getting rid of samuel’s boxers, and rolling on the condom in the dark. for a moment they just look at each other. bess hasn’t ached like this for anyone in a long time. “tell me what you want, samuel.” his adam’s apple bobs as he sits up. “c’mere.” samuel pulls her forward and bess lifts her hips to line them up. he swallows her tiny gasp as she sinks down onto him; it’s been a while for her, too. samuel anchors her with one hand splayed across her back, waiting silently until bess has adjusted to the stretch. bess rocks down experimentally and he makes an almost strangled noise in the back of his throat. a soft kiss lands on her forehead, a starkly tender inverse to nearly everything that’s happened so far, and maybe even to what they’re about to do. it settles bess and breaks her open both at once. “okay?” he asks carefully. she nods, wrapping both her arms around his neck. “you’re amazing, you know that?” samuel murmurs over her lips. his own hips swing up towards hers and wow. “bess.” she was right, before. he’s strong. they get a rhythm going quickly enough, like another harmony that comes so easy. the angle has bess’ clit pressing with beautiful pressure against samuel’s pelvis; she clenches down just as he thrusts up. he curses and it just stokes that flame hotter inside of her. after a certain point bess can’t even speak anymore. she has both her hands in samuel’s hair and he’s latched back onto the curve between her neck and shoulder, teeth and tongue and words like, fuck and tight and good and bess— “samuel i—” he looks up at her face like he wants to commit it to memory. “bess.” and she’s gone again. * when they’ve caught their breath and tidied up, bess and samuel find themselves side by side in his bathroom, a sweet reflection of that night from weeks ago. she’s glad she thought to bring her toothbrush. samuel keeps staring at her in the mirror. “what?” does she have toothpaste on her face? he just shakes his head, the way he does when he laughs to himself. “nothing. you just look better in my t-shirts than i do.” bess rolls her eyes but her face feels hot anyway. “weirdo.” it feels good not to have to wonder as they head back to his bed. samuel drags her immediately towards him beneath the covers, his cool hands greedy beneath her borrowed sleepwear as her back curves against his chest. he plants a minty kiss above her shoulder-blade where his shirt’s slipped down. bess shivers and he leaves another on the back of her neck. “sorry,” he murmurs, and bess flips around to look at him. “for what?” the storm broke finally, and amber light of the street through his windows feels just as safe and warm as it had before. but samuel is the one who seems afraid, now. “i don’t want to freak you out.” “you’re not freaking me out,” bess insists. “tell me.” samuel hesitates. bess reaches out to touch his face. “hey. i don’t scare that easy either, you know.” he exhales a faint laugh. it’s so rare to see samuel seem unsure, or fragile. it makes bess feel thrillingly off-centre. “i don’t think i’ll ever be able to stop wanting you.” she’s falling. “and not just—” samuel nods vaguely at their general closeness. “this. i mean all of it. the music, your family, everything. i know it’s probably a bad idea to start things with bandmates or whatever but i just—” bess doesn’t let him finish. she can only pour all her affection for him into a kiss, taking samuel’s huff of surprise in her mouth even as he reaches for her waist to pull her closer, then on top of him. when she pulls away he seems a little dazed. “you make the bad days okay,” bess says firmly and samuel smiles with such near-adoration that she understands it now, that loss of air. “so we’ll figure it out, okay? one day at a time.” samuel nods. “okay.” and he pulls her back down. * bess wakes up with words in her mind. samuel’s grip is so tight that at first she doesn’t think he’ll let her go. but bess manages to slide away, picking up his hand gently and lifting his arm. she looks at his sleeping face and kisses his knuckles. samuel’s lips curve a little and if she looks too hard she could be in love with him already. she knows where he keeps blank sheet paper in his production area. bess finds a pen and a coffee table book about new york parks; she sits on the edge of the bed to scrawl, humming to herself. she doesn’t realize he’s up until a familiar press of lips lands on her neck. bess will never stop shivering and samuel will apparently never stop smiling about it. “hi,” he mumbles. his voice is low and gravely with sleep. bess files that away under the list of things that does something to her. samuel hooks his chin over her shoulder and bess lifts her work to accommodate his arms sliding around her waist. “new idea?” bess nods. “thinking about what you said to me.” she’s circled can’t catch my breath at the top of the page. samuel goes very still. it feels like it could crush them, the weight of this kind of intimacy. but at least bess doesn’t have to carry it alone. “wanna write with me?” she turns her head to look at him; samuel’s surprise will never not be thrilling. “will you let me add a back beat?” he’s already reaching for his guitar. bess laughs. “i could maybe be persuaded.” the way his eyebrow lifts makes her stomach jump. “duly noted.” (they do finish the song, eventually. the morning just gets away from them first.)

#little voice #littlevoiceedit #brittany o'grady #colton ryan #bess king #mine: fic #this really got away from me like woah #but i just them so fucking much

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aussiearrow · 3 years ago

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New Beginnings - T.Ishimori / T.Taylor

A/N: So when @bitterendbrutalizer , started to write TMHWMP. I started to think about how I wanted to know more about Torrance and Taiji so here we are. This was in no way meant to be a fic in it's own, or this long. But it's something that's for sure. Enjoy?

Just a little long background on how Torrance met Taiji. Other characters from TNA/Impact, NJPW, etc. And of course Nellie and Torrance from Take My Hands, Wreck My Plans.

When Torrance walked through the door of TNA early 2015, her blonde hair in loose curls, she spent most of her career on the indie scene but never truly branched out until she crossed paths with Shaun better known to the wrestling fans as none other than Eli Drake, the you'll hear him long before you see him obnoxious jerk from Maryland. And his character wasn't much different either.

The moment she stepped into managements office they told her she was the perfect fit for either joining The Beautiful People or be apart of the Dollhouse either way it excited Torrance. Those were two of the top groups in women's wrestling to date and to even be considered was a major thing for her.

But it was all quickly folded when Shaun said that he wanted a change soon, and that change was to turn himself into one of TNA's top heels, but in order for his gimmick to work he felt like he needed to make a lot of changes. Most of which he said would make him out to be someone all of the ladies wanted, and all the guys were jealous of but that was still months away. But with him bringing that up and saying he knows the perfect person, one the fans didn't see yet before scratched all plans that she was originally brought in for.

"Soon." Tanga would tell her, but soon wasn't quick enough. It wasn't right now out there with Angelina, Velvet, And Madison. Or Marti, Jade, Taryn, and newly introduced Rebel. Torrance knew she was basically watching her part but through someone else. It was almost like being in Hollywood where you're watching someone else shine in the part you auditioned for.

"At least you get out when soon is up." Torrance would often tell Tanga than Drew or Shaun would walk around the corner.

It was no secret that Tanga was unhappy and had only signed on for a short time and had no plans on continuing instead he would often tell Torrance about joining his brother in Japan which seemed to put a huge smile on her face. Torrance often dreamed about what wrestling in Japan would feel like so when she met Tama at one point when he came to visit, she bombarded him with a list of questions and learned some of the slang.

"What do you do here?" Tama would ask her.

"Sit around and wait for my storyline to start." Torrance would say but when Tama was about to say more in his way things would quickly stop once Tanga shot him a ' we talked about this' kind of look.

On July 25th, 2015 Shaun had finally pulled the trigger and cost his former partner Drew Galloway a match against Ethan Carter III. It w as finally time to insert Torrance into the story as she helped Eli get a victory against Drew on August 5th.

Torrance embraced her role as a heel and Shaun's manager of some sort. Only wrestling on occasion but she tried to tell herself she was happy because not only was she employed in her dream job but she was doing it with the love of her life.

Or who she thought was the love of her life. Torrance got caught in one too many times of people coming up to her in the locker room and telling her how single Shaun acts when she isn't around, jokes on them when she saw it happen in front of her quite a few times too. This went on until she stopped going into the dressing room and instead stayed in Shaun's. Because you couldn’t get told bad things if you weren’t around to hear it, right?

Moments like these lead to pretty heavy arguments in the morning but Shaun had a way of saying that they were filming stuff for his gimmick or that a fan had gotten to close at a club and he couldn’t be rude. Which often caused Torrance to laugh. But it somehow always worked that andTorrance like the way she felt when they made up. Shaun Just had a certain way that she never once complained about.

When impact started to work with GWF there was a lot of new people from their roster coming into Impact. Shaun decided that tag team wrestling is where him and Chris needed to be.

But first I had to sit and watch as L.A.X won the titles, Santana and Ortiz becoming fast friends of Torrance’s much to the dislike of Shaun. It started to turn it into something that she didn’t have an idea. Yeah, when Chris joined she knew Shaun was looking to have him be his back up and boy did they ever get along. Torrance seemingly avoided it at all cost. Not knowing just exactly what was brewing.

It wasn’t until Slammiversary XV on July 2, 2017 when Torrance watched in rooted for Santana and Ortiz to keep their titles she was nervous and was waiting by the TV closest to the ranch so she can see her boys either way the match went for what felt like forever as L.A.X. emerged victorious. They all hooted and hollered when they made their way back as twins ran to give them both a hug.

“I’m so proud of you guys. “ Torrance said as they returned her hug.” Are you guys okay?” She said when she pulled away double checking that they were indeed okay.

" We're fine. We're not the ones you should be checking on." Santana said with a laugh.

Torrance playfully rolled her eyes as the 3 other teams finally came into view, Torrance's eyes wandered a little and they all indeed seem like they went through something. But a certain pair of eyes caught hers a smile making her way onto his lips which she returned.

"Let's go, our turn to finally show what a real tag team can do." Shaun said as he and Chris came into view.

"Dude, we've been doing this together for years, you guys became a team weeks ago. Get some credibility and maybe we'll let you have a shot." Ortiz said.

Torrance saw the smile disappear quickly from the guys face instead it was replaced by an unreadable expression as her gaze turned to Ortiz and Shaun as she placed a hand on Shaun's chest and led him to the ramp.

That night as Torrance listened to Shaun and Chris go on and on about how if it wasn't for Santana and Ortiz getting in their head before the match things would have went completely different. All Torrance could think of was the guy that she saw before it all happened. The way his smile seemingly reached his eyes, with such kindness that she wasn't used to seeing in this business especially not with Shaun around.

From that day she talked to both Santana and Ortiz, " So who was that one guy you guys had that match against? The one from Noah?"

"Torrance got a thing for Marufugi?" Ortiz said as Torrance made a face.

"No, I don't." Torrance said as they laughed.

"What he meant to say is Torr got a thing for Ishimori."

"Torr doesn't have a thing for anyone but her boyfriend. Who she's been with for a few years." Torrance said as she quickly came to Eli's defense.

"Chill Torr, we know were just joking. His name is Taiji Ishimori we only know a little about him. Damn good wrestler seems to be a pretty nice guy outside of the ring. Friendly, Priscilla said he wanted to go over the spot they had in the match at least 100 times so he felt confident enough the wouldn't hurt her."

"Oh." Torrance said.

"Oh? I mean we can introduce you two if you want. Just don't pull a Eli on yourself." Santana said.

Torrance knew he meant it as a joke but she also knew how much truth was hidden in that.

It was months later when Torrance finally saw Taiji again at Bound For Glory on November 5, 2017. She considered them to be rather friendly as when he was there before Santana and Ortiz introduced the two. Hitting it off the best they could with Shaun being around. But she didn't know where Taiji stood when he found out that Shaun and Torrance were a thing. She didn't mean for things to get flirty between the two but stolen glances became much more when he would ask her to dance that one time he actually got Torrance to go out with the roster.

Shaun on the other hand was happy Torrance was dragged away by her friends as a certain Brunette had found her way onto his lap. Just as Taiji pulled Torrance in she laughed.

Taiji smiled," You know I don't know much about the way girls are in the states but I'm pretty sure you've been flirting with me since we met."

Torrance's eyes went wide," Flirting? No,no. I just wanted to make sure you were having fun."

"I am, only when you're around. And that's a shame cause I was definitely flirting with you."

Now Torrance knew that she was definitely flirting back with him, in fact she knew on occasion that she had even started it. Taiji had a way of making her feel things she never felt especially in her relationship with Shaun. Which is why she never really mentioned him in that way, and Torrance knew that lately it hadn't been that well known to anyone except Chris and her friends of L.A.X. Tanga kept in touch too but he never asked how Shaun was doing. He like Santana and Ortiz were waiting for the day when Torrance would say she dumped Shaun.

"Hey Torr, I know this isn't the time or the place but you got to come here. Your boyfriend seems to have forgotten an important part. And I don't trust Santana walking over there." Priscilla had said when she placed a hand on Torrance's arm.

"Boyfriend?" Taiji said as she looked at Torrance letting her go.

"Yeah the complete douchebag known as Shaun aka Eli Dra-" Priscilla began to say as Torrance cut her off.

"Can we not? Please." Taiji just stood there with eyebrows raised as Torrance made her way through the crowd and over to where Santana had now become fully aware of some sort of situation and picked Shaun up by his collar from his spot on the chair and was saying something that she couldn't quite make out just yet.

"Woah hey what's going on?" Torrance said as she made her way over to the two.

"This prick apparently can't remember he has a girlfriend who is only a couple feet away from him that he could be trying to mack on, but no instead chooses someone else. Like this is all some sort of game to him."

"You're just mad that it ain't you, kid. It could be but you're still playing at the kids table." Shaun said as he freed himself from Santana's grasp with a dirty look.

"Really? That's what you have to say to all of this?" Torrance said.

"We'll talk at home, in private." Shaun said as he gathered his stuff and muttered something that Torrance couldn't quite catch but it sounded something along the lines of his night being ruined.

But they never did talk about it that night, when Torrance brought it up the second the door closed his lips attached to her neck as she sat at the counter.

"You're really going to listen to Santana over me?" Shaun would say as his arms snaked up her sides," You know how he gets when we're in the same room."

Torrance was still unsure but she convinced herself based on the fact that Santana indeed have all the things in the world to say about Shaun whenever he stepped in the ring especially ever since their feud on Impact when Shaun and Scott took the tag team titles only to drop them to go on his chase for his own singles title.

Torrance sighed," I know I just wish he didn't go and say something like that completely out in the open in front of the whole roster."

"That's how him and Ortiz are, you know that. Now what do you say we find something else to do until morning since our lovely night out became an early night in." Shaun said as he made sure to continue to capitalize on every little weak spot that he knew Torrance had. So by the time he was finished talking Torrance barely remembered why she was even questioning him in the first place.

But that was before and this was now. Bound for Glory. It was all set to be a big night for Shaun but Torrance was finding it rather hard to swallow her pride and act happy for him when things in their personal lives were at their end. Their very end. And when Torrance told Impact about how she didn't want to be near Shaun.

To which they responded with that she could suck it up or leave. She chose to leave after Bound for Glory was done. Torrance watched early on as Taiji defeated Tyson, She hasn't talked to him since everything that happened at the club. She would try to look his way but almost all of them went unnoticed by her at least when she looked that was.

She had only told her close friends that tonight was her last night as tonight was also Gail Kim's last impact wrestling match. Maybe it was for the better, she didn't want the attention on her.

She barely left the locker room as her phone started to ring, as she looked down to see Tanga's name on her screen.

"Hey, how are you?" Torrance said.

"Really? You're asking me that? You're the one who dumped an asshole and is now leaving a company in the same week." Tanga said.

"I'm ready to leave already but I have a few more hours still."

"Where's Santana and Ortiz? Or Taiji?"

"Santana and Ortiz are filming something but Taiji I haven't talked to him for a few weeks."

"And why not? He was becoming a good friend, it wasn't Shaun was it?"

"I mean not exactly. He didn't know me and him were a thing, and things may have went a little to far if you will."

"A little far? Did you and Taiji have a thing?"

"No, no I didn't think so at least. I mean things didn't feel friendly but it never crossed that line."

"Did you want it too?" Tanga said as all Torrance could do was stay quiet, mainly because she couldn't even begin to think about any of that, cause she knew parts of her did want it too. Almost every part.

"Hey I have to go get ready, but I'll see you very soon."

"Ah! So you have thought about it." Tanga said with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get ahead of yourself. It wasn't your words that encouraged me."

"You're right the amount of times you drooled when I told you about Japan definitely didn't do anything to persuade your decision. Maybe it was Taiji telling you about it?"

"Bye Tanga." Torrance said as she hung up as Tanga laughed.

Torrance went about her night, never really running into anyone before she watched Taiji win his match in under 5 minutes. He was truly coming a long way. She'd be lying if she said that being able to see Taiji in the ring would be something she'd seriously miss, but even more so him out of it.

When it was finally time for her to go out, she gave Santana and Ortiz one last look and they gave her encouraging smiles. Just one last thing you have to fake here tonight and than that's it. By tomorrow the news will read that her and Impact have parted ways than she'll be on the closest flight out of here to start her new life in Japan, as a part of the Bullet Club for the time being.

As Shaun's hand was raised in victory as he captured the Impact Global Championship, it took everything in Torrance not to break down cause it was something that she had watched him work hard for but even more so something their little group worked so hard for as well. Shaun respected her space throughout the whole celebration as they headed into the back. Most people congratulated Shaun as Torrance made her way through the crowd and went right over to Santana and Ortiz.

"We're gonna miss you Torr." They said as they wrapped their arms around her tightly.

"I'm going to miss you guys so much too." Torrance said as she pulled away from them," We'll see each other again soon. And I'll call once I figure out the time zone situation."

"Yeah we love you but not enough to answer your call at 3 in the morning just because you wanted to say hi." Ortiz said with a laugh as Torrance gasped in fake offense.

"You wouldn't take my call at 3 in the morning?"

"If you just want to say hi, absolutely not." Santana said.

"But what if I miss you guys too much?"

"Than we'll return the call at a decent hour." Ortiz said as they all laughed.

"So it's true?" Torrance heard from behind them, she knew that voice, she missed it the last couple of days.

As Torrance turned her head to see Taiji standing there as Santana and Ortiz let her go and walked a little bit away.

"Uh yeah, wait depending on what it is you're talking about."

"You're leaving." He said as she nodded," Why?"

"I want to wrestle not be eye candy, and I won't get that here."

"And you picked Japan?"

"How did you?- " Taiji pointed behind Torrance as she turned to see Ortiz looking away and Santana smiling and offering a small wave as Torrance gave him a look before looking at Taiji again.

"Well that explains that." She said as Taiji nodded," I leave in the morning."

"No celebration with everyone?" He asked with raised eyebrows.

"Not into drinking nor do I have anything to celebrate with him."

"But that's your boyfriend."

"Was, big keyword there he was my boyfriend."

"Oh, not a fan of going to Japan?"

"No just not a fan of being faithful." Torrance said as as unreadable expression came across Taiji's face.

"I'm sorry." He finally said.

"Don't be I'm not. Long overdue. New Beginnings, can't wait."

"Yeah, new beginnings." Taiji said with a smile.

Torrance wanted to bring up what happened but she figured it wouldn't matter too much. She would be off to Japan to start a new life while he was here doing great things in the states.

But what Torrance didn't know was that wouldn't be the last time she saw Taiji like she thought. She would see him again when she was working alongside Bullet Club and making a name for herself.

Tama started relentlessly teasing her, more so than usual she should have said when they started teasing about a certain someone making his return to New Japan very soon.

"You know him extremely well." Tama said.

"Oh now it's extremely well? Before it was just I've seen him before." Torrance said with a roll of her eyes.

Tanga laughed," You seriously haven't seen anything relating to Impact since you left have you?"

"Out of sight, out of mind. You know I stayed off social media especially when Shaun decided to state his opinion on why I left in the first place." Torrance said with a shrug.

"Plus our girl here has been busting her ass off for that championship." Chase said as she smiled.

She was really at the highest point in her career and it was something she could say it was finally all for her. She was happy to just be wrestling bust as she trained with the guys, even she couldn't that her ability was getting better.

So when she was told that she was going into the championship picture and at the end would be facing Toni and Kagetsu at Stardom Shining Stars in a little over a month.

"Just a little over a month to go." Torrance said.

"And as of tonight you'll have a new member to celebrate with." Tama said with that signature smug look on his face.

"Don't say that we all know she'll only celebrate with him at that point."

"You guys are seriously going to make me wait if it's this big of a deal?"

"Well maybe you should pay attention to socials more." Tama said," Owens don't let her get spoilers, I'll be back." Tama said as he left the room.

Torrance was nervous as she watched Tama enter the ring followed by a man in a mask slide in behind Will. Tama told Will to get his ass up before the attack started. Torrance had to admit there was something familiar about the way this person moved.

Once the attack stopped and Tama stood next to the man as he talked about how much luck Will has had lately and how it was going to change as Bullet Club had an idea for bringing someone new in who would turn the gold into a diamond. Tama said," What I present to you, Bone Solider... Taiji Ishimori."

Everything else felt like it was all slow motion to Torrance, like how did this happen? As Tama began to lead him to the back it would be a good half hour or so until they were back here. Torrance thought of leaving but her feet stayed planted where she was.

"Come on, we're going to meet them." Tanga said as he put a hand on her shoulder.

"I think I'm good I'll wait right here."

'No, you're going with us. Tama has told Taiji all about what you've been up too. He's excited to see you, said it's been quite the year or so." Tanga said and before she could disagree her body betrayed her as it followed the guys out and over to where Tama and Taiji were talking to the cameras.

"Well, well, well look who it is." Tama said as he looked the group," I believe most of you have met Taiji if not this is Ishimori, our newest member."

He didn't seem to notice that Torrance was also there but she felt eyes on her as Chase pushed her forward a bit," Torrance here has something to say."

"Oh she does now?" Tama grinned at her," Well? Go ahead, floor is yours."

"Welcome home?" Torrance said as she offered him a smile.

*****************

It didn't take long for Torrance and Taiji to get back to the way things were. The flirting picked up and this time there wasn't anything attached to either of them so it was freely. Torrance had also started to go out with them a lot more when Taiji would invite her.

" You guys seriously need to start inviting new girls. I hate being the only one."

"I'm sure there will be a lot more coming around with Taiji here, and someone else we have joining in the next few months." Chase said as Tama laughed.

"That's funny, new guy maybe but Taiji with Torr around?" Tanga said.

"We're right here guys." Torrance said as they walked in.

"Are they wrong though?" Taiji asked.

"As far as what I heard the question was mainly about you."

"I'm not looking for anyone." Taiji said as Torrance nodded as she turned around to find a table," Else that is." But she acted like she didn't hear it.

It made Torrance nervous, getting close to another wrestler again. Something she swore to herself she'd never do after Shaun. But as they sat together in a booth Torrance felt herself slipping from that thought as Taiji looked at her," Care to dance?"

Torrance nodded," Sure, figured I owed you one so come on." Torrance said as she slipped out of the booth.

Once Taiji grabbed her hand she knew she was gone but that she was going to try her hardest to hold out until she knew it was good for her. As the two made their way to the dance floor.

***************

On June 9th, 2018 Torrance seemingly went to hell and back in a losing effort, she was sore pretty much something was broken or badly bruised as she made her way backstage, she made very little comments until she turned the corner to go to the locker room, she almost didn't notice the figure standing outside as a few of the other girls stood talking away.

Torrance made her way through the little crowd, as the figure turned towards her and gently caught her arm," Torr."

The crowd seemingly stood back and stared at the two in confusion, they knew she had been friends with members of the Bullet Club, and worked/trained with them but the fact that one of them were there right now seemingly crossing a line that hasn't even been drawn besides by a few girls in the locker room, "Taiji, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to come and see your match live, than I saw everything so I had to come back and see you." He said as he wrapped her up in a hug," You did really good."

Torrance knew of the audience but the hug was a lot of what she needed in that moment and he at least deserved a hug back for showing up here the way that he did," Thank you it means a lot."

"Go get ready, we'll go somewhere to celebrate the fact we're both losers." Taiji said as they laughed.

"Raincheck, I feel like I got hit by a train." Torrance said as she let go of the hug.

"Okay sounds good, I'll still walk you out. Take your time." Taiji said as Torrance nodded and smiled at him as he got called away.

Taiji walked her out that night and even took the cab ride home with her as he gave her another hug and watched as she made her way inside.

"So it's true." Torrance just about jumped when she heard the voice she turned to see Bea standing there.

"What's true?"

"You've been banging Taiji since he came back?" She said with a laugh.

"Far from it, we've been friends since Impact."

"Oh so it's been longer than that, so did he use you to get into Bullet Club? Or was it the other way around?"

"Bea, cut the shit. We both know I haven't even gone on a date since being here."

"That we know of you don't tell us anything really is that why you and Shaun broke up got a little too close to a mid carder when you weren't wanted out at the ring?" Bea said as Torrance sighed.

"Whatever you say Bea, you and I both know what happened. If you still have a problem in the morning than we can talk but for now I'm going to sleep." She said as she went into her room and closed the door.

But it was always an issue with Bea, it went on for months until Torrance finally told Taiji and the rest of the guys.

"Why is it such an issue that they think you're hooking up with Taiji?" Jay asked.

"It's the way she's saying things that are the problem." Torrance said as she sighed," And than she has everyone else starting it now whenever I get anything that's good."

"Welcome to Bullet Club by the way Jay when we aren't kicking ass in the ring and out we're going through a big never ending game of she likes him but won't date him because he's a wrestler due to the last guy she dated who was admittedly an asshole yet she gets offended when people call her out for things when it comes to Taiji." Tama said as he sat back with a laugh.

"Oh fuck off Tama." Torrance said as she headed out the door. Truthfully she was getting overwhelmed by the amount of people coming at her at the house and it starting to just really get on her nerves. So when Tama started saying that when he knew what was going on just rubbed her the wrong way.

"Torrance, wait up." Taiji said.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow. I'm going home before everyone else gets there I think I heard enough today."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about actually." Taiji caught up to her.

"Torrance turned to him," What?"

"How about you move in with me? I have a spare room you can have." Taiji said as he looked with hopeful eyes.

****************

Her first initial night with Taiji just so happened to be New Year Eve, where they both decided that after a long day they were just going to get some food and head back to the apartment. It was hard not to be in a good mood when you walked the streets of Tokyo. It was also hard not to be coupley when everyone surrounding you was in such a high spirit.

When they made their way into the apartment and sat on the couch, both refusing to get out of their outfits, Torrance had to admit she liked the way this dress made her look. And it was the first time she actually had a reason to wear it out.

Taiji was the first to bring up relationships as he asked why she hadn't had one since being in Japan, " I don't know , most of the time I'm just surrounded by wrestlers and - "

"And you don't want to date or hook up with wrestlers."

"Yeah, for the most part. I know that's kind of impossible not too."

"So what you're saying is someone caught your eye?" Taiji said as he re entered the living room.

"Yes well no, I don't know. I feel like he's been around so he had it for awhile like a long while so it's kind of hard to keep denying it."

"He's a lucky guy."

What about you like Chase said Bullet Club is pulling more girls around now more than ever as there's more than one single guy. While Jay entertained a few you haven't." Torrance said," And don't say no one asked cause they have. I've seen them ask. Especially when you would come to stardom."

"None of them were what I wanted." Taiji said with a shrug.

"So you got a type."

Taiji was going to respond when a countdown started to go into the new year, Torrance watched as everything went from silence to almost a beautiful bliss.

"You ever have a new years kiss Taiji?"

"No, I'm sure you have though."

"Actually no, every new year my ex seemed to never be around."

"Let's change that right now." Taiji said," That's if you don't mind."

"No, I don't but who would we-" Before Torrance could even finish her sentence Taiji planted a kiss that took her a minute to respond too but once she did there was no stopping her or Taiji now.

*********

That night didn't end with just kissing, most like all of the other nights after that too. She never did get to see the spare room as both of them found an excuse to spend just one more night together.

It went on for months like this, none of them saying anything to anyone but most of their friends figuring it out by the way they acted around each other. But when they would ask it would just be a quick " no" or a change of subject.

That was until Taiji started bringing around his new tag team partner, Riley aka El Phantasmo. Things got rather interesting. Torrance didn't think of herself as a jealous person not even in the slightest but sometimes Riley would make comments about how Taiji needs to capitalize on a few girls that threw themselves at him. Those kinds of things made her squirm but she stayed quiet, not wanting to put Taiji in a spot that would make him uncomfortable.

"What's your deal Torr? You've been staring at Taiji like you either want to kill him or jump his bones for the last couple of minutes now." Torrance sighed as she looked at Nellie her newest friend. And finally another to put up with Bullet Club's shit.

"I've just been thinking a lot."

"About Taiji?" Nellie said as she looked at her friend. This wasn't the first time they talked about this. Most of the time they also talked about Nellie and Riley's situation.

Torrance never understood why Riley was hellbent on telling Taiji about hooking up with girls. Meanwhile he swore up and down that he was interested in getting to know the ladies in Japan, but the second Nellie walked through the door he was right there following her around. And from what Nellie told Torrance it wasn't the first time they hooked up either. They said that was over with but Torrance and Taiji both knew better when they would leave together.

After all it was easy to hide your own hookup when you knew your friends were doing the same. Or so Torrance thought.

"Earth to Torrance, are you sure everything is good?" Nellie said.

"Yeah, I just- what if I finally dyed my hair?"

"Seriously? That's what has you all out of whack today?"

"Well, it's been on my mind a lot. I think a pink color would look good."

"It would, you should do it." Torrance heard from beside her as Taiji took a seat next to her with a smile.

Torrance turned and smiled at him," You think so?" As both went in their own conversation as Nellie and Riley looked at each other with a shrug.

"When you two are done ignoring us, how about joining Nellie and I at the bar? The usual spot?" Riley said as Torrance looked at Riley and Nellie who were now standing and ultimately waiting on them.

"Yeah, yeah we know." Taiji said as he stood, followed by Torrance.

It wasn't long before Riley was making the comments, it was almost like he knew how much it bothered Torrance. Who always tried to ignore it but lately it was getting harder and harder. She was trying to distract herself by talking to Nellie about upcoming shows.

"What about that one? She's been eyeing you all night." Riley said.

Torrance tried to turn away a little more as Riley just continued on," I bet if you buy her a drink she'll right into you."

Nellie watched in amusement as Torrance rolled her eyes," Seriously guys? Is that all you ever talk about?"

"Woah, hey. Nellie is right maybe we're trying to help the wrong friend get laid." Riley said with his arms raised.

"I'm more than okay thank you very much." Torrance said.

"Are you sure about that?" Nellie asked trying to hide the smile.

"Really? You two?" Torrance said as she looked at Nellie who shrugged," You know what? Fine. I just can't keep sitting here and listening to Riley go on and on about how Taiji needs to get laid cause I think he has been multiple times this week alone."

" Oh really? And how would you know about that unless?" Riley looked between the two of them as Nellie couldn't get enough of the scene playing out in front of her.

"Oh please don't act so surprised." Torrance said as she stood up," Now if you'll excuse us you wanting to go out the last two nights has really put a damper on things. So if Taiji agrees maybe we can go home early and as Riley likes to say get laid."

" I'm always down for you." Taiji said as he stood up and grabbed her hand.

"Wait home?" Riley said as he looked at Nellie who shrugged and seemed just as surprise as she was.

"I really didn't expect that I just thought we were finally going to learn they've been banging this whole time." Nellie said.

"Bye guys." Torrance said as Taiji began leading her out the door. Little did she know that was the best thing to happen to them of course they'd never let Riley or Nellie know that.

And the rest is a story for another time.

#njpw fanfiction #njpw fanfic #taiji ishimori fanfic

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