“Warning Labels” series by honey_wheeler, obsession_inc, kyrafic, and annakovsky (NC-17)
Fandom: THE OFFICE
Pairing: Pam Beesley/Jim Halpert
Authors on LJ: honey_wheeler, obsession_inc, kyrafic, annakovsky
Length: 70K+ words, 12 chapters
Authors' Websites: honey_wheeler @ AO3, obsession_inc @ AO3, kyra @ AO3, annakovsky @ AO3
Why this must be read: Season 2 and 3 fics are all about the angst and the UST of everyone's favorite Scranton couple. This epic series resolves the ST pretty quickly and yet still piles on the angst like crazy in the process of imagining an AU where Jim and Pam hook up in early Season 2-but very little else changes (at least not immediately). In fact, most of it occurs directly in the backdrop of canon. Because of that, things get a little OOC later on, but by then the authors have built things to a point where it makes more sense. And then there's the angst, with raw feelings so tactile you could cut 'em with a knife. (For what it's worth, the authors all have a lot of work in this fandom, much of which is way happier.) It's far from the happiest JAM fic you'll read but it's well worth the investment.
He laughs and it sounds so nice she wants him to do it again. She feels ridiculously proud of being able to make him laugh. He’s a funny guy so making him laugh means she’s a funny girl and she likes that. They’re funny people.
“Unless Brooke Shields made some career moves I was unaware of, I think you mean Desperately Seeking Susan.” He’s smiling at her again, with that smile; with her smile.
“That’s what I said," she insists, smacking his chest with her palm. She forgets to pull her hand away, though, and she can feel his heart beating. It’s like a snare drum under his skin. She’s sure can almost hear it. His hands have come up to rest on her hips, to steady her probably, but she can feel one of his thumbs against the skin just above the waistband of her skirt, moving in distracting little circles.
“So, uh. What now?” he asks her, his voice sounding like it’s been rubbed with sandpaper. Flutters start up in her stomach, as if she's swallowed a moth. “Another round of pool? You hungry? What do you want to do?”
She looks at him, trying to think. But all that’s in her head is that his lips look so soft and she wonders what he tastes like and then she’s kissing him because she just wants to know, she wants to know what it’s like to kiss someone who looks at you like that and smiles at you like that. Just once. But then it’s so nice that she doesn’t want to stop. Not ever.
He doesn’t respond right away; his fingers still on her hips and he doesn’t quite kiss her back and for a second she’s sure she’s made a horrible, horrible mistake, that he’ll push her away and he won’t look at her like that ever again, but then his arms slide around her waist and his tongue pushes between her lips and it’s okay. Everything’s okay, at least for now. Everything’s okay as long he doesn’t stop kissing her, touching her, pulling her hips against his in that way that makes her whole body tighten.
He flips them around, then, pushing her back against the wall. It’s lined with license plates and she can feel them cold and square against her back. Can feel his hands, hot and real on her skin. It’s like he’s trying to swallow her all at once
Her head bumps back against the wall and he apologizes, breathlessly, but it’s okay. She likes it, she wants it, she wants it to hurt and be a little uncomfortable. His mouth is on the skin just below her ear, sucking hard, hard enough to leave a bruise, maybe deliberately, and she tilts her head to give him better access.
Something hard and plastic slips down over her eyes then and she shakes her head reflexively to get it off, sending it sliding down onto Jim’s face. He pulls back, confused, and takes it in his hands, his hips still pinning her to the wall. She wants to grab it, to throw it away so he can keep going, but then she sees what it is. It’s her cat-ear headband, the one she wears to give out candy to trick-or-treaters every year. The one she’d fished out of a box last night only to find one ear dangling from the headband by a few threads. The one Roy had taken from her, the one he’d held in his solid hands, so different from Jim’s, the one he’d carefully glued back together with some crazy stuff in a tube he’d dug out from the bottom of his tool drawer that said “Caution: do not touch with bare skin” on the label. She sees that headband between Jim’s long, precise fingers and she knows she can’t do this.
He must be able to tell by the look on her face, by the sudden tension in her body, because he stiffens and pulls away slightly. If he’d pushed, if he’d pressed the issue she might have given in, but he’s Jim; he wouldn’t do that.
“I better go.” She pushes her arms down between them and he steps back, head low, eyes fixed on hers. The headband is in her hand as she hurries out to the bar and grabs her jacket from where she’d abandoned it on a back of a chair ages ago. Her cell phone bounces hard against her thigh in one of the pockets and she digs it out, calling information for a cab company.
He doesn’t follow her outside. It’s probably better that way. She needs to get home to Roy.
warning-labels (story begins with Caution : Do Not Touch With Bare Skin)
Pairing: Pam Beesley/Jim Halpert
Authors on LJ: honey_wheeler, obsession_inc, kyrafic, annakovsky
Length: 70K+ words, 12 chapters
Authors' Websites: honey_wheeler @ AO3, obsession_inc @ AO3, kyra @ AO3, annakovsky @ AO3
Why this must be read: Season 2 and 3 fics are all about the angst and the UST of everyone's favorite Scranton couple. This epic series resolves the ST pretty quickly and yet still piles on the angst like crazy in the process of imagining an AU where Jim and Pam hook up in early Season 2-but very little else changes (at least not immediately). In fact, most of it occurs directly in the backdrop of canon. Because of that, things get a little OOC later on, but by then the authors have built things to a point where it makes more sense. And then there's the angst, with raw feelings so tactile you could cut 'em with a knife. (For what it's worth, the authors all have a lot of work in this fandom, much of which is way happier.) It's far from the happiest JAM fic you'll read but it's well worth the investment.
He laughs and it sounds so nice she wants him to do it again. She feels ridiculously proud of being able to make him laugh. He’s a funny guy so making him laugh means she’s a funny girl and she likes that. They’re funny people.
“Unless Brooke Shields made some career moves I was unaware of, I think you mean Desperately Seeking Susan.” He’s smiling at her again, with that smile; with her smile.
“That’s what I said," she insists, smacking his chest with her palm. She forgets to pull her hand away, though, and she can feel his heart beating. It’s like a snare drum under his skin. She’s sure can almost hear it. His hands have come up to rest on her hips, to steady her probably, but she can feel one of his thumbs against the skin just above the waistband of her skirt, moving in distracting little circles.
“So, uh. What now?” he asks her, his voice sounding like it’s been rubbed with sandpaper. Flutters start up in her stomach, as if she's swallowed a moth. “Another round of pool? You hungry? What do you want to do?”
She looks at him, trying to think. But all that’s in her head is that his lips look so soft and she wonders what he tastes like and then she’s kissing him because she just wants to know, she wants to know what it’s like to kiss someone who looks at you like that and smiles at you like that. Just once. But then it’s so nice that she doesn’t want to stop. Not ever.
He doesn’t respond right away; his fingers still on her hips and he doesn’t quite kiss her back and for a second she’s sure she’s made a horrible, horrible mistake, that he’ll push her away and he won’t look at her like that ever again, but then his arms slide around her waist and his tongue pushes between her lips and it’s okay. Everything’s okay, at least for now. Everything’s okay as long he doesn’t stop kissing her, touching her, pulling her hips against his in that way that makes her whole body tighten.
He flips them around, then, pushing her back against the wall. It’s lined with license plates and she can feel them cold and square against her back. Can feel his hands, hot and real on her skin. It’s like he’s trying to swallow her all at once
Her head bumps back against the wall and he apologizes, breathlessly, but it’s okay. She likes it, she wants it, she wants it to hurt and be a little uncomfortable. His mouth is on the skin just below her ear, sucking hard, hard enough to leave a bruise, maybe deliberately, and she tilts her head to give him better access.
Something hard and plastic slips down over her eyes then and she shakes her head reflexively to get it off, sending it sliding down onto Jim’s face. He pulls back, confused, and takes it in his hands, his hips still pinning her to the wall. She wants to grab it, to throw it away so he can keep going, but then she sees what it is. It’s her cat-ear headband, the one she wears to give out candy to trick-or-treaters every year. The one she’d fished out of a box last night only to find one ear dangling from the headband by a few threads. The one Roy had taken from her, the one he’d held in his solid hands, so different from Jim’s, the one he’d carefully glued back together with some crazy stuff in a tube he’d dug out from the bottom of his tool drawer that said “Caution: do not touch with bare skin” on the label. She sees that headband between Jim’s long, precise fingers and she knows she can’t do this.
He must be able to tell by the look on her face, by the sudden tension in her body, because he stiffens and pulls away slightly. If he’d pushed, if he’d pressed the issue she might have given in, but he’s Jim; he wouldn’t do that.
“I better go.” She pushes her arms down between them and he steps back, head low, eyes fixed on hers. The headband is in her hand as she hurries out to the bar and grabs her jacket from where she’d abandoned it on a back of a chair ages ago. Her cell phone bounces hard against her thigh in one of the pockets and she digs it out, calling information for a cab company.
He doesn’t follow her outside. It’s probably better that way. She needs to get home to Roy.
warning-labels (story begins with Caution : Do Not Touch With Bare Skin)