SUMMARY: OKAY, maybe moving overseas the instant you got the acceptance letter from The College of New Jersey in (you guessed it) New Jersey, to join their Yellowjackets in the NCAA was in fact a bit reckless, but who cares? You were sick of Barcelona anyway, and the idea of being on a team filled with people you didn't know at all seemed —even if it felt a bit scary— appealing, to say the least. A change couldn't hurt, could it?
Well, if you consider falling hard for one of your teammates a good start, then yeah, you had the best fucking start in the world. But that's obviously not a good start (far from it, really) because Natalie isn't just a fierce on the ice and a pretty face, she's also got a whole aromory to destroy you. But you've always been kind of a masochist anyway…
CHAPTERS:
one : pre-season
two: ice, ice, baby
three: jocks and fucks
four : heart eyes
five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve /thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / sixteen / seventeen / eighteen / nineteen / twenty
Summary: When a blizzard hits sooner than expected, you spend the night, snowed in, with Emily. Covers the Snowed In/Blizzard square for @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo 2023!
Warnings: Brief mention of alcoholism.
A/N: Hi babes! I'm very excited to share the first of four fics I have planned for this holiday season! Thanks for reading!<3
Ao3 Link
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she started, “but that blizzard rolled in sooner than forecast. There are accidents everywhere, even this late at night. I’m not driving home, nor am I letting you.”
You peeled your eyes away from the report in front of you to look at your boss. The BAU had landed back in Quantico just a few hours earlier, and while Tara, Rossi, Luke, and JJ opted to start their weekend early, you and Emily decided to push through and finish your reports. (You didn’t want to have to worry about it over the weekend; Emily didn’t want you to be alone this late in the evening.) She was giving you a pointed look. The one she used when she had to be the boss. It wasn’t exactly how you wanted to start your weekend, but you weren’t going to complain about some one-on-one time with the older woman.
“I was going to protest, but I know how to pick my battles.” She smirked at your words and cocked an eyebrow.
“Good answer. Finish up your report, then come to my office.” You watched as she made her way up to her office, the sway of her hips more pronounced than usual. As if she was giving you a show. You tried not to think too much into it.
You put the finishing touches on your case report and made your way to Emily’s office. Upon entering, your eyes were immediately drawn to the older woman, who sat sideways on a couch, staring thoughtfully out the window watching the snowfall. She was deep in thought, deep enough to have not noticed you yet, her thoughts were not unpleasant. No, not at all. A soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. A set of Christmas lights framed the shelves behind her desk and cast a soft glow over her. She looked stunning.
You had done everything in your power not to develop feelings for the woman, and yet you were unsuccessful. Though, she didn’t help either. You sometimes caught her staring at you in the bullpen from her office. You tried not to think about it too much, chalking it up to her merely observing how you interact with the team. At first, when you would catch her staring, she would quickly avert her gaze. As time went on though, she would stare just a bit longer. A look bordering fondness on her face.
If the staring wasn’t enough, the two of you seemed to always bunk together wherever a case takes you. You could count on one hand the number of times you bunked with someone other than her. And when you bunked together, she made sure that you were okay: sleeping enough, emotionally and physically well, those sorts of things. You told yourself she was just being a good boss, and you didn’t want to interfere with that. Emily, however, knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something happened to you. And whether or not she was ready to admit it yet, she would feel lost without you. She didn’t make it easy for you.
Emily Prentiss was an excellent profiler, there was no mistaking that. Yet, it took her a while to get a good read of who you really were. You rarely accompanied them to after-work gatherings, whether they’d been at Rossi’s or a bar, so even though you had been on the team for several months, they didn’t know a lot about you. Emily, of course, had gotten to know you through small conversations in your shared hotel rooms and she was excited to spend the evening with you.
“Knock knock,” you said, almost whispering to not startle your boss.
“Hey, hey,” she replied, “come on in. Take a seat.” She patted the empty couch cushion in front of her.
“Thanks,” you replied, sitting where instructed.
“Thank you for not putting up a fight,” she chuckled.
“Like I said, I know how to pick my battles. Besides, figure it’s best not to argue with the boss.” You curled up on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest.
“I know it’s probably the last way you wanted to spend your Friday night. Especially after a case,” she said sympathetically.
“Truthfully, I’d be doing the same thing at home.”
“Really?” She asked, seeming genuinely surprised, “I would’ve thought you had plans.”
“You’d be incorrect,” you chuckled. “I’m quite boring.”
“I find that hard to believe,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Most of my time off the clock is spent with my nose in a book.” You shrugged, “I’m an introvert working an extrovert's job. But I also wouldn’t have it any other way.” A genuine smile painted your face, and Emily internally gushed. She loved seeing this side of you, where your guard was down almost entirely and you didn’t have to be an FBI agent. Her eyes fell to your lips for a moment, and she quickly adverted her gaze upon realizing what she had done. You, however, didn’t acknowledge it and or the heat that suddenly consumed you.
A comfortable silence fell over you. Comfortable and familiar, almost. You looked at Emily for a moment longer before you leaned over the couch to retrieve your novel from your go bag. “Speaking of, do you mind? I desperately need to decompress after that one.”
“Not at all,” she confirmed. You dove into the novel, excited to escape reality for just a while.
You were able to read for a while, but soon you found yourself unable to stay focused on the words in front of you, too distracted by the look Emily gave you. The notion of her reciprocating your feelings crossed your mind, though only for a moment. The negative thoughts overshaddowing the positive ones. You feared she would simply view you as a child, considering the age gap between the two of you. You really only had yourself to offer, and you weren’t sure if that would be enough for Emily.
“You’ve been on that page for a while,” she said, breaking the silence, “I can almost hear you overthinking.”
“You stare at me an awful lot,” you noted.
“Am I not allowed to admire a beautiful woman?” She asked confidently, smirking and raising a brow. You couldn’t help but laugh at that one.
“You think I’m beautiful, Emily Prentiss?”
“I do.” She didn’t hesitate to answer you, and it caught you off guard. You felt yourself blush at her answer, and you knew she noticed. There was no way she didn’t. Unbeknownst to you, Emily had her eyes on you since your interview. And after giving one of the best, she knew she wanted you. Though, she never thought she had a chance.
“Bold,” you replied, “But I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t have a similar opinion of you.”
“Oh?” She was surprised, “I didn’t think I’d be your type. I figured you’d go for someone closer in age.” You paused for a moment, allowing the silence to settle, and contemplating your next words carefully. Silence felt like the best option, or some off handed joke about your mommy issues to lighten the mood. But, Emily’s unwavering confidence emboldened you.
“You are exactly my type, actually,” you confirmed. Emily’s face softened, and for a moment you panicked. So when she didn’t immediately respond, you continued, “From the way you command every room you walk into, to the salt and pepper hair. I think you’re stunning.” The older woman held you gaze, almost unable to believe what you had told her, though she knew you were being honest.
“In that case, you should ask to buy me a drink.” Emily sat forward, resting her elbow on the back of the couch, and holding her head up with her hand.
“Well you should know,” you paused, “I don’t drink, my parents were alcoholics and so were their parents. But-”
“Is that why you never come out with us?” She interrupted before you could even ask her out.
“Yeah, that’s part of it, it’s not important right now. But, Emily, I would love to buy you a drink sometime, if you’d let me.”
“I’d say yes, but I know you don’t drink, so I’ll let you buy me coffee.”
“It’s a date then.” You smiled, knowing this was the beginning of something good.
Hairdresser Ash believes she will never have another relationship due to a profound fear of being touched. Her admission onto the mental health ward is nearly over, but she still hasn’t recovered from her phobia.
Harri is finding it increasing difficult to work in fast food catering due to her nerve damage. How can she smile at customers, let alone maintain a relationship, when half her mouth doesn’t work, and anything touching her there hurts so much?
When Harri takes an overdose in a bid to get rid of her pain, she ends up being detained on the same ward as Ash; in the same bedroom, none-the-less.
An instant attraction causes them both to reconsider their futures. But should they begin a relationship with one another when both of them still have things to deal with? And how will Harri’s domineering mother react when she finds out?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Lizzie McGuire (TV)
Relationships: Lizzie McGuire/Kate Sanders
Additional Tags: set twenty years after The Lizzie McGuire Movie
Summary:
“Well, well, well,” an all too familiar voice says. “If it isn’t Lizzie McGuire. I see you haven’t changed at all.”
“Kate?” she asks, not entirely convinced her brain isn’t playing one big trick on her. “Kate Sanders?”
“In the flesh,” the woman confirms with a tilt of the head, gaze raking down her body in a scrutinising way but contrary to how Kate used to judge every aspect of her, when those eyes lock on hers again, they’re not filled with scorn, an almost delighted smile tugging at her lips. “What’s it been, like, twenty years?”
Yo! How about 24 or 36 for Leah and Abby? Still reading the book, I'm a slow reader.
drabble prompts!! || accepting!! - thanks for the prompt!! i literally just finished the book a few weeks ago so like no worries lol
24. “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”
Leah was not a touchy person. Well, unless she was close with the person. She really only hugged her mother, Simon, and Nick. Those were the people she felt the most comfortable around, and occasionally she would give half-assed, one-armed hugs to Morgan and Anna. And Nora was like a little sister to her, so she got the slightly more genuine hugs and playful shoulder-punches.
But other than those people, she kept her physical contact to a minimal.
And then Abby Suso came along and wormed her way right into her inner circle of special people, the people she felt comfortable around, the people she could be vulnerable with. The people she hugged. The people she let herself cry in front of, or do the snort-laugh thing that she so despised.
Abby had a way of making you feel like you’d known her since diapers after only knowing her a few days, weeks, months. Even Leah, with all her walls, couldn’t keep herself away from the wrecking ball that was Abby’s smile, her doe eyes and long lashes, her dark skin, soft curls, and her goddamn bubbly energy and perfectly kind heart.
Fuck.
One of the first things that Simon, Nick, and her had learned about Abby was that she was very touchy. She loved to hug, link pinkies, poke, and snuggle up to them. With no shame, mind you.
Although Leah never voiced her discomfort, Abby seemed to sense it and backed off, focusing her attention more closely on the boys, which actually just made Leah jealous, though at the time she had no idea why. Watching Abby sit on Nick’s lap, or play with Simon’s hair, or tickle the two of them made her stomach flip upside down.
Just a year later though, Abby was not focused on Nick or Simon or Garret or Cam or anyone else but Leah. And, like, school and stuff too. But her affection was still prominent towards everyone; just double the amount towards Leah.
And fuck, it felt good. After years of shying away from most touch, it felt so nice to sink into someone’s arms after a long day. To hug, to kiss, to cuddle. Ugh. It was so cheesy she could puke. But it was true.
“You’re the only one I trust to do this,” Leah mumbled softly one evening, curled up beside Abby, a blanket thrown over their laps and Netflix playing softly on the TV, though that had about one percent of their attention.
“Do what?” Abby asked.
“Just…this. To cuddle with, and all this cheesy couple shit. I used to be grossed out by the idea. But you make it nice.”
Abby put a hand over her heart, a smile curling genuinely on her soft, plump lips. “Aw, Leah! That’s so gay.”
“Bi,” Leah corrected with a cheeky grin.
“My apologies. Bi,” she said, poking Leah’s side.
Leah giggled and batted her away. “If you were anyone else, I’d have kicked you in the face for trying that by now.”
“Trying to what? Tickle you?” Abby asked, raising her eyebrows as if being challenged.
“Yeah, that. Don’t push your luck though. I almost broke Simon’s nose in eighth grade.”
“Really?”
Leah nodded.
Abby tilted her head for a moment, as if weighing the pros and cons of the situation. Clearly, the pro of hearing Leah laugh hysterically was worth having her nose broken, because she pounced with a hilarious mock-battle cry.
Leah didn’t break her nose, nor did she kick her in the face. Or punch, hit, elbow, etc. She just laid back and laughed, though with a good amount of squirming.
Perhaps Leah was touchy, just with the right people.
Pucking 7 Yellowjackets hockey SMAU - Natalie Scatorccio x reader
Moving to another country had a lot of pros: one the one hand, you had a good appartment, (thanks scholarship!) nice roomates, a school's name that would look great on your resumée , well located… but starting on August wasn't one of them. August, seriously? Fuck Pre-season, for god's sake…
On top of that, the heat and the awful ball of anexiety curling into your stomach and threatening to crawl up your throat, you had to meet them. What if they didn't like you? what if you weren't good enough? what if all this was a mistake? what if—
"Hey," the sudden voice intrussion made your head bob up, tensing your body to sit up and abandon the previous lay-down position you'd been for the past— hour? "…you good?" Mari's long hair hung lower on her right side as she tilted her head. Her eyes darted on your face, brows slightly furrowed as she searched in your expression.
There she was. Mari Ibarra. Well, Mariana, but nobody really called her that. Doesn't matter— she had been unbelievably sweet to you. Maybe it was the fact that you also spoke spanish, (even if it was a differenent dialect, you two understood each other perfectly) or just because she had craved someone to 'gang up' with against your other two roomates, Taissa and Vanessa, who she'd call Lapas Lesbianas (Lesbian Limpets) , something that would make the couple snort.
"Uh- yeah yeah I was just um… y'know. Laying around." It came out as an insecure sputter of words, and Mari did ofcourse not buy it.
"Nuh," she muttered, pink and yellow mismatched socks sliding over the plush carpet of your room, "you're thinking something. What is it?" you moved to sit on the edge of your bed making space for her, bare toes grazing the tender strings of fuzz. "I um…" you started, clearing your throat as you felt her weight dip on the bed. "I dunno. I was just thinking."
"Bullshit—" her dark hair tickled your arm as she turned to sit facing you "what, you think they're gonna hate you and you're gonna suck so hard you're gonna get kicked out of the team?" she questioned.
"Um… maybe…?" you muttered, gaining a oh for fucks sake from her plush lips. "No! everything's gonna be great, understood?" you let out a sigh, staring back at her deep brown eyes. "y/n." She stared, tone demaning.
"Mari." You mimicked, tilting your head the same way to follow her emphasis.
"You little shit—" a nudge to your shoulder, a low ow from your lips that was quickly covered by her voice "Seriously! it's just pre-season. It's just skating. Like- literally."
You scratched the back of your neck with certain doubt, and Mari couldn't help but shake you by your shoulders. "Leave that looser's mentality."
"But—"
"NO. Manifest! If you think negatively, it'll have a negative outcome!" you sighed and then rubbed your eyes. "Say it! Everything is gonna be great, I'm gonna get along with the team, practice is gonna be grea—"
"Mari are you seriously torturing her with that stupid ass manifestation thing?" Van's voice cut through.
"I'm not torturing anyone!" The tanned responds, giving the ginger a look as she leans on your doorframe. "Doesn't seem like it," Van hums back grinning.
Mari huffs and rolls her eyes. "What's up anyway?" The freckled face asks as she steps into the room.
"She's scared the team's not gonna like her—"
"Mari!" You cut through, heat rushing to your cheeks.
"It's true!" She defends.
"Doesn't mean you need to say it outloud!"
"There's nothing wrong with it! you need to—"
"You're seriously overthinking over the team liking you?" Vanessa interrupts the back and forth.
"Uh- well yeah. Newsflash: this is gonna be my team for the next, what, year? I don't wanna fuck up and have a terrible relationship with the whole team—"
"We met you five days ago and we've been doing amazing so far," Vanessa hums. Mari nods while letting out a cheerful 'True!' and you can't help but sigh. "Yeah, but you guys are easy. Not everyone is like that—"
"Did you just call us easy?" Van starts.
"Wha— no! I mean yes, but not like that—" You stutter.
"She called us easy?" Taissa chimes in (when did she join in?) "Wow. Low blow y/n."
"Yeah low blow" Mari murmurs holding back a grin as she nudges you.
You groan, rubbing your face and laying back on your bed. "I hate you all."
They all chuckle, and all of your phones buzz in unison. You frown, reaching for yours along the others.
“Uh oh,” Van muttered, already checking her screen. “Mama Taylor’s back.”
Taissa groans at the nickname. “Don’t call her that.”
Pucking 7 Yellowjackets hockey SMAU - Natalie Scatorccio x reader
note: I'm sorry this took foreverrrr but at least we finally have a playlist!
You fiddled with the soggy sausage Kevin or Harling (you honestly don't remember, what are even these names?) had pressed to your plate. When you heard 'the boys' were taking care of dinner, you didn't expect much, but this was beyond disgusting. The few beans that had arrived to your side of the table where stiff and uncooked, and the mashed potatoes— let's just not talk about the mashed potatoes…
"Enjoying the american dream, Catalonia?" Van teased, her wide grin pushing her freckled rosy cheeks into a cute roundness that reminded you of a hamster.
"More like american nightmare," Taissa snorted blowing her eeves dropping cover, curls bouncing as she shook her head to look at you. "You don't like any of it?"
"Are you kidding me? Sweaty sausage feat. Rock beans and slaughtered potatoes, what a feast…" you murmured sarcastically.
More laughs from your now teammates filled the table, and the tought of someone slightly enjoying this terrible dinner thanks to you comforted you a bit. "I promise not all american food is like this," Charlotte's— Well Lottie, she just liked Lottie— soft voice hummed on your right.
"Trailer park food is," Van cut, chuckling.
"It can't be this bad," you hummed, pointing at the cardboard plate that pathetically sat in front of you. "Nah, newbie is right, not even trailer park food was this bad," Natalie chimed in, finally letting go of the plastic fork and watching as it slid through the gooey food (if you could call it that).
Her green eyes scanned you for the fifth time, glancing to your chest and darting back to your face. She hadn't stopped looking at you all night. You just wore your favourite shorts and a dark off shoulder top that let the freckles of your chest shine shamlessly. In her defense, she looked at your face for most of the time. Either way, you caugh her red handed in most of them. Not that you didn't mind. She was pretty, and having the designated badass of the team check you out didn't help but to make you more confident. And confidence is key, right?
"It seems Farleigh's got your eye on you," Jackie hums, smiley as she shakes her shoulders in a happy mannerism.
"Well he can look somewhere else" you mimick her tone and moves, making Shauna snort and Mari laugh.
"Well your boyfriend is gonna love that" Natalie murmurs, low enough to play it as she doesn't care, but loud enough for you to hear. Just an indirect way to ask if you're single. Suave.
"I don't have a boyfriend,"
"Oh? We thought you did. When jackie was stalking your instagram—" Mari starts, but Jackie cuts her off.
"I wasn't stalking her!"
"You said she was pretty."
Your captain's mouth opens and closes a couple times. "That's objectively!"
"You're very pretty too, Jackie. Objectively." More laughs and a side eye from Nat to Jackie, you end up listening to one of Van's crazy stories.
"We should go somewhere when we get outta here," you murmur, watching as the potatoes deflate.
"Wait- that's like a great idea!" Jackie said widesmiled, still a little flustered from earler. Looking to her right where Shauna sat, she nudged her with her manicured nails. "Ow- I- yeah it's a great uh… idea. We could um… go to a bar?" Shauna mumbled, unsure of what the (brunette) wanted her to say. "Or to get ice cream! Yeah!" Jackie clarified, making Mari huff. "Why can't we get drunk?"
"Because it's pre season and we have practice tomorrow morning! Early!" Jackie cut in.
"But-!"
"Nuh-uh-uh, you heard what mama Jackie said. We must stay in our enclosure." Van stopped Mari, getting a dirty look from her. "Enclosure? We're not animals! Besides- why do you keep calling me Mama Taylor? I don't get it-"
"YOOO NATT!" But Jackie's monologue was cut by Bret- Brat- Bennet? Whatever! Everyone turned to the voice, and Natalie moved in her seat, uncomfortable from all the attention. The guy chuckles with his teammates, and grinning, he speaks again. "How's your summer gone huh?" Natalie let out an uncomfortable 'good', as if she knew what was coming up next. And you hated that. The big mouthed girl with witty remarks and questionable humour reduced to a quiet uncomfortable statue. "You planning on enjoying the semester like last year? because if you do, you prolly gonna need a fidelity card for the rugby team, since you keep coming back for each player…" it's a snarky, gross, animalistic tone. Purely disgusting. His friends wheeze and chuckle in disbelief, surprised one of their own hulligans has had the guts to say something as disgusting as that.
"Yeah how many you've got left to try from the team?" Another one chimes in, air filling with hyena looking laughs. Natalie's face contorts in a grimace, notoriously uncomfortable by the akward moment.
Before he can open his mouth again, you cut in. "How's yours? We've heard you've already gotten alllll the points! have you been upgraded to VIP? " Your smile is wide and fake, tone obviously sarcastic. The guy looks taken back by your words, but the anger flaring from your gut out of the disgust toward this guys makes you continue. "Oh c'mon Barry, don't be embarassed! You said it yourself, you're a winner, aren't you? Besides, we all know why you guys take so long in the changing rooms…" You hum the last part to Van, getting her to chime in into laughing at the jerk.
"Fuck you you dykes! you're the ones being lesbos in the changing room—"
"Ohhh did we hit a nerve?" You grin. "Why are you so emotional, buddy?"
And that does, in fact, make everything worse. Jock nr.1 is very much pissed, and even if most part of the guys are laughing at him, (just like your teammates) the other half is either trying to hold their monkey back or yelling profanities back.
But Nat is smiling and laughing now, so hearing 'go back to your country' and variations of it doesn't really do much to you. You've heard worse, anyway.
