yeah yeah I'm corny on main

had a couple people on ao3 ask for that good good Sam/Tory fluff, possibly a continuation on my last Sam/Tory, so here we are

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Samantha Larusso was wearing a loose top of white that hangs of her shoulders and has a little maple-syrup-covered pancake on it, though it's obscured by the large box that she's barely managing to haul through the doorway.

It's a dumb shirt, but Tory actually kinda likes it. She actually kinda likes the dumb smile on Sam's face when she finally gets the box down in the kitchen.

"Well?" Sam asks, looking around at the walls (the walls are sky blue; not Tory's first choice, but it's also the last thing she cares about. She suspects Sam likes it.) before her eyes land on Tory's. "Do you like it? I like it. I know you said you liked the pictures online, but, like, do you like it, like it?"

Tory hadn't ever spoken to Sam's dad before she got closer with the Larussos, but now she could see: Sam rambled just as much as her dad did; no wonder it seemed Sensei Lawrence couldn't stand him.

"It's...nice. Really nice..." Tory smiles crookedly as she looks around the room, thinking on the conditions of the agreement she'd struck with the Larussos. She and Sam had to stop fighting, for one, but that wasn't really a problem anymore. It seemed as if, after that night in the rain, the fight against Sam had been shocked out of her system.

Additionally, she had to stop training with Kreese. An awkward relationship to break, and she almost felt bad for the old man if he didn't start talking about "getting her back into his ranks" like some ex-army-general. She didn't want to rely solely on the Larusso's, however, and their karate wasn't really her style. She was much happier with Eagle Fang's (apparently she was the only one who told Sensei Lawrence it was a good name, though she got weirded out when he became emotional about how no one had appreciated it before) karate, as it was much more badass.

(Sensei Lawrence was not happy with her cutting her Eagle Fang shirt into a crop top, though.)

"I'm hungry," Tory's brother, Brandon, whined as he brought in a smaller box of his toys and took them to his room.

"My dad's on his way with pizza," Sam called into his room, making her way back out to the moving van with Tory in tow.

"I can't believe he gets his own room," Tory muttered to herself. "A three-bedroom apartment, in this economy..."

"Have you never had your own room?" Sam asked, heading down the stairs and making a right towards the street outside where the van was humming with life.

"No," Tory replied, her tone a little softer. She hated talking about her living situation, though that seemed to be all the conversation that lead to this moving day. "His crib was in the living room at first, but as soon as he got a real bed, it was in my room..."

"Hm," Sam hummed, and the noise was a comfort as she took out another box, this one labeled Tory's Clothes. "I couldn't imagine sharing a room with Anthony. You'll appreciate the privacy, I'm sure."

"Yeah, for sure," Tory agreed, taking out a box of things for the kitchen. "He still gets in my bed, though. When he has nightmares. I'm sure that won't stop now..."

"And you don't kick him out?" Sam asked incredulously as they started their trek up the stairs again.

"No, I wouldn't do that to him." Tory smiled to herself before snickering. "Well, one time when he was four, he peed in my bed. I wasn't feeling very warm towards him after that."

Sam laughed so hard, she almost dropped her box as she swung into the doorway. "That's adorable," she breathed heavily as she dropped the box in Tory's room. She frowns. "You comforting him, I mean, not him...peeing on you." She blushes, looking around Tory's room distractedly. "How do you think you'll decorate?" Sam examined the bare walls, these a peachy color, before going up to a box of Tory's things from her old room.

"Probably the same as my old room, there's no need to try anything crazy. With all the stuff going on, I pretty much just use this place to sleep." Tory went through the box with Sam, their hands accidently touching as they brought out a string of fairy lights. 

Sam smiled sweetly before looking down at the box again only to see a polaroid picture of Tory and Miguel. She picked out the picture carefully, offering it to Tory. "How are things going with him? I haven't gotten to talk to him much yet since he's gotten back on his feet."

"He's...a miracle, how hard he keeps going in the dojo. Well," Tory frowns. "The park. I still think it's embarrassing practicing in a public park, but I guess it's better than being taught by a war criminal."

"That's true," Sam nodded, taking out a little blue bear from the box. It was old and ragged, but still cute. "Who's this little fella? He's clearly been well loved."

"That's Blueberry," Tory smiled sheepishly, putting him up on her bed before she could die from embarrassment. "I've had him since I was little...he's gray-ish because I tried giving him a makeover one time...I got my mom's lip gloss all over him, she was so mad..."

"I have a rabbit at home named Carrots," Sam said. "I used to put him in the laundry basket and fling him down the stairs."

"Okay, masochist." Tory laughed. "That poor rabbit..." she stood, stretching out. "I'm gonna get another box..."

"Could I stay here?" Sam asked. "I wanna try to decorate your room, if you don't mind."

Tory looked uncertain at that; if it were anyone else, she'd say no, but Sam seemed so meaningful and sweet in her gaze. Tory felt a warm glow rise in her cheeks--as if she'd just had a third glass of champagne, but she was completely sober.

Sober, and staring at Sam for three seconds, but it must have felt awkwardly long.

"Sure," she settles, trying to shrug it off as if it's no big deal, something so intimate. "Don't make it too preppy."

Sam rolls her eyes at that, but she's got a fond smile. "I wouldn't dream of it. I'll make it badass, promise."

Tory goes back downstairs, and tries to convince herself that her stomach is buzzing because of moving and nothing more.

------

Sam sneaks around for the rest of the day, grabbing random items and disappearing, closing the door as if hiding a secret. Tory's only regret is that Sam won't let her see the room, which means Tory doesn't get to see Sam, either.

Finally, after a worn-out victory dinner of pizza and a few more agonizing minutes of decorating, Sam declares Tory's room open for business.

Tory walks in tentatively and is immediately met with the delicious smell of warm cinnamon rolls, and she's only a little disappointed to find it coming from a candle on her own desk, which Sam must have set up herself. Tory isn't sure she wants to trust the stability of it, but the gesture is nice all the same.

Tory's room is lit up by the same lamp she had at her old place, along with fairy lights strung about the room. Her bookshelf was brought in, the arrangement of it all leaving an abundance of space compared to her old room. The best part is one of the walls, which is crammed floor to ceiling in a collage pictures. Some of them Tory took herself, or someone took of her and her friends. Some of them look taken off Facebook, or just a cool aesthetic based on stuff she likes, stuff she talked about with Sam.

"I owe Ms. Thompson a fortune in printer ink," Sam jokes, and Tory can sense the nervousness in her voice.

"I love it," Tory replies, too quick and too loud with a voice too wet. She really doesn't think she could stand to show this weakness to Sam, to let her know non-verbally that this was the nicest thing that someone has ever done with her with no obligation, with no expectations. She approaches Sam, who's sitting on her bed, and reaches out.

Sam takes her hands in turn.

"A beautiful room for a beautiful girl," Sam says, her smile turning sheepish as embarrassment flashed in her eyes. Ah; Tory would smile smugly if she wasn't flushed with emotion herself. Sam hadn't meant to say it, but Tory was glad she did.

"The last person to call me beautiful was...was my landlord..." Tory whispers, heartbeat escalating in fear just thinking about him.

"I'm sorry," Sam replies, instinctual.

"Don't be," Tory murmurs, brushing a strand of Sam's long, curly brown hair behind her ear. "I'd much rather hear it from you..." she tilts Sam's head up, her eyes a clear blue, their intent visible. She's reminded vividly of that night when Sam had lifted her chin up, sticking a Band-Aid on her cheek with gentle care.

Her hands were shaking then; she's not shaking now, her cheeks warm under Tory's fingertips.

Tory kisses her, Sam's hands moving to Tory's arms as if waiting for this for the longest time. She kisses back, eager, but not like a teenaged make-out session. Sam kisses Tory like she's appreciating her, trying to draw her by just knowing how her lips felt against her own.

Sam starts to smile against her lips, and Tory has to pull away because she's smiling as well.

"What the hell are you smiling like an idiot for?" Tory laughs, pressing her forehead against Sam's.

"Am I not allowed to smile because the girl I liked just kissed me?" Sam asked in retaliation. "I'm so sorry, Your Highness." she tries to frown, but once Tory kisses her again, she can't help but smile once more.

"The, uh..." Tory's smile faded a little. "Not to be a downer, but the last person who kissed me was, uh..." she tries not to speak about it too much so the memory doesn't replay in her head. "You know. So thank you...you're not a half-bad kisser, I guess..." she teases.

"Half-bad?" Sam repeats, a brow raised, her voice a challenge. When her hands find their place on Tory's hips (as if that's where they were meant to be all along) and she pulls her close, Tory knows she can never step away from a challenge from Samantha Larusso.

~~~~~~~~~~

So there you go! I don't know if you can tell at the beginning, but I had a bit of a crisis pertaining to...like I made Sam and Tory friends, and then it just...drained all of their sexual tension lmao. Hopefully I remedied it in the later half, but uh...writing for this ship is a work in progress! Once I get my footing I think I'll enjoy it though

so for those of you that don't know, I am bi, and like...I've never kissed a girl before (every girl on the planet is out of my league) but like...I need to know what it's like for writing purposes. so if there are any cute girls out there between the ages of 18 and 20, uh...hit my line. lmao

I think there's a girl in my bio class that's into me...but I'm not into her...I don't mind when people have crushes on me, obviously it's flattering, but all she does is stare at me and sit uncomfortably close to me and move her stuff in the hallways to sit next to me. She doesn't even make conversation, either, she just...watches. and I'm creeped out. There was a guy that was creepy to me last semester and I had to yell at him in front of the whole class to get him to stop, but hopefully if I just tell her to stop then she will. men just don't know how to listen in general

anyway. this has been rose's oversharing corner, I'm gonna get back to work

ciao,

~mw