#i just postpone it and focus on other things

[steviesummer]

inspired by and as a direct follow up to this post by @strangersteddierthings:

Eddie is horrified. He remembers the day Steve is referring to, though clearly not as well as Steve does. He calls out as Steve raced up the stairs and hears his door slam.

“Fuck.” He stares blankly at the wall in front of him. He can’t believe things went so bad so quickly. He’s been trying to get to know Steve better, get closer and damn if he didn’t just blow the hole thing. He’d shown up early, told Steve he needed to prepare as an excuse to spend some time with him. Despite everything that happened over spring break, Steve had remained guarded, standoffish no matter what Eddie tried. At least now he knew why. He’d fucked things up before he’d known there was something to fuck up.

He feels even worse about calling him a bully. Sure, Steve had looked the other way and even laughed at some of the mean jokes others had made, but he was far from the worst. That dubious award went to Billy Hargrove, but even without him, there was plenty of people who did far worse than Steve did. Especially because Steve is right. He did hit first, metaphorically at least. He can justify it all he wants as trying to protect himself, but that doesn’t make it right. Steve all but admitted that as he said the same thing. He feels nauseous at the realization that maybe he was just as bad as those he decried. That for all his talk about accepting outcasts and defying convention, he was just as prejudiced. Swallowing hard, he heads back to the dining room and looks at the clock. There is no way he is going to be able to run the campaign today. He’s not going to be able to focus or even play without thinking about how things might have been if he hadn’t driven Steve off all those years ago. He grabs the phone and dials Gareth’s number. “Emerson house, Sheryl speaking.” “Hi Mrs. Emerson, it’s Eddie.” Eddie is proud that he manages to keep his voice even. “Is Gareth there?” “Oh, yes! Let me go get him for you.” “Thanks Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie focuses on breathing while he waits. “Eddie? Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie breathes out. “Hey Gareth. Look, I know its last minute, but we’re gonna have to postpone Hellfire. Something came up.” He could hear Gareth’s frown through the phone. “Postpone? What happened, did Harrington do something?” As if he couldn’t feel worse. “Nah. I’ll explain later, but can you call Jeff and Frank, let them know? I gotta call the freshman, too.” “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to that.” “Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow.” Eddie promises before hanging up. He weighs his options for how to tell the Party. Eventually, he decides on calling Mike, know that the younger teen won’t push too much. He’s dialing the Wheeler home before he can second guess his decision. “This is Mike.” Eddie feels a rush of gratitude that Mike is the one who answered, rather than Nancy or one of their parents. “Hey Mike, it’s Eddie. Listen, Steve’s not feeling great and having Hellfire here isn’t going to help. Can you call the rest of the Party, let them know we’re gonna move it to another day? I’ll keep an eye on Steve.” Eddie knows Mike is a confused, given how adamant he’s been in the past about not canceling or moving Hellfire, but as he expected, Mike accepts what he says at face value. “Sure. Need us to bring anything?” “Nah, I’ve got it. Pretty sure he just needs some peace and quiet so he can rest. But thanks.” They say their goodbyes and Eddie puts the phone back on the hook.  With that done, he checks that the door is locked and faces the stairs. Now for the hard part. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, if there is anything he can say that will fix this, but he has to try. Even if doesn’t change things between him and Steve, Steve deserves at least that much. Every step feels like it takes effort, chest heavy with guilt, but it only takes him a few moments to get to Steve’s door. It’s closed, which doesn’t surprise him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before knocking. Nothing. “Steve?” If it wasn’t for the quiet sound of Steve’s breathing he could hear through the door, Eddie would think he had left. He glad that he at least didn’t drive Steve out of his own home. He rests his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry.” Eddie hopes Steve can hear how much he means it. “You’re right, I fucked up. I made an assumption and took out my anger at other people on you. And that wasn’t fair and it’s not okay. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Even if it wasn’t you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets out a hysterical laugh as he realizes - “And despite that, you still humor the kids when they talk about D&D and agreed to let us play here and didn’t punch me in the face, which makes you a better man than I.” He falls silent, listens as Steve’s breathing slows. He isn’t sure how long he stands there. He wonders how many other people he hurt this way, without even realizing. Knows he wants to do better, be better. He sighs, feeling his shoulders slump. “Anyway, I canceled Hellfire for today. I told everyone something came up, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up some story, make sure they know its not your fault. And uh,  let me know if you want to hang out again or something. I know I’ve been around a lot; didn’t realize that I was making you so uncomfortable, which is probably another thing I should apologize for. Anyway. Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?” He waits a moment for an answer, but when none comes, he backs away from the door and walks downstairs to gather his stuff. It hurts, but he knows Steve deserves space and to be the one to initiate contact. He has some thinking to do, anyway.

[writeroutoftime]

true love's kiss

pairing: azriel x reader

summary: when azriel is hit with a powerful poison what - or who - will be able to save him?

warnings: talks of death, angst

words: 2.8k (buckle up)

a/n: my first azriel story and I'm so excited!! this idea just popped in my head the other day, and I ran with it lol. it was so much fun to write, so I hope you have just as much fun reading it!

(p.s. requests are open if you'd like to send anything in!)

oOoOo

Without warning, your heart began to pump furiously and an uneasy feeling settled over your body. Your muscles tensed up, as if preparing for an attack, and only moments later, you noticed Feyre's glazed over eyes widened in fear. Lunch suddenly postponed, she shot to her feet and ran towards the living room while you, Mor, and Amren quickly trailed behind. 

Before you even stepped foot in the room, your suspicions were confirmed as the scent of blood and fear smacked you in the face. There was a brief space of time in which you mourned for the anguish Feyre would feel over an injured Rhys. However, the image of Rhys and Cass heaving an unconscious Azriel onto the couch suddenly seared itself into your mind. 

"What happened?" you whispered the words over the commotion, though it rang out loud and clear to the Inner Circle despite its wobble. 

"We were ambushed in Windhaven." Cass explained while Rhys reached into the void to call for Madja. "Az's side was struck with a sword, but it must have been laced with poison. One second he was standing behind me, and the next thing I knew, he let out a shout before collapsing almost immediately." 

Tears lined your eyes at the thought, and the pain didn't register when you dropped to the ground beside Azirel, hands hovering over his body. The dark swirl of shadows that nearly obscured him from view parted for you, allowing you access to their master. 

"Oh, Azriel." you breathed out, only distinguishable to you and his shadows. The later wisping gently around your face, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. You leaned into the gesture, wishing it was Azriel's palm against your skin. 

Suddenly, you felt strong arms pull your shoulders away from Azriel as Madja stepped in and took your place, her gaze instantly drawn to his wound. Meanwhile, your family stepped back in fear. Rhys held Feyre tight in his grasp, and Cassian offered you and Mor each a comforting hand.

The only sounds for the next few minutes were Madja's grunts and huffs as she did her best to treat the injury. You couldn't help but cringe into Cass' side as her hands turned a dark-red, tinted from the blood that should have long ago clotted. It felt like an eternity before the healer turned around to face all of you, her face worn. 

"I've done what I can to stabilize him, but the sword that struck our Shadowsinger was indeed laced with a poison I have yet to see. Unfortunately, it still seems to be working his way through his system. I can't say for certain how much time he has, but I will work swiftly to find an answer." she explained solemnly, taking in the pained expressions of you and your friends. "All I do know is whatever the cure ends up being, it needs to be a strong source of magic. I'm sorry I can't offer better news."

Rhys was the first to break through the stunned silence. "Thank you, Madja. C-can we move him somewhere more comfortable?" 

The healer nodded before taking her leave. In her stead, all of you gaped in shock before Rhys and Cass worked together to move Azriel to a bed where they thought he would be more comfortable. Once they got him settled, you pulled a chair up, next to his bed, a stack of thick, dusty books beside you. If there was nothing you could do at the moment, by the cauldron you would at least help Madja research a cure. 

When your focus couldn't get past the first few sentences on a page, you shut the book with a sigh and furiously wiped at your eyes. The tears wouldn't stop, no matter what you did. Carefully, you reached out and interlaced your hand with one of Azriel's, placing a soft kiss against the marred skin. 

"Please, please wake up, Azriel." you whispered into the room. "I don't know what we'd do - what I'd do - without you." you told him, praying to the Mother and anyone else listening to heal your best friend. 

As day bled into night, Rhys and Cass came into the room, trying to relieve you even just for an hour. They tempted you with food, rest, or even just a moment alone, but you refused. How could you leave Azriel alone in his moment of need? Eventually they got the hint, and slowly, the rest of your family began to take up residence in the room alongside you.

oOoOo

"How can there be nothing on this subject?" you shouted, tossing the book to the floor with a loud thump. 

The rest of the Night Court looked up at your outburst, their own eyes red and bleary from the hours and hours of research. It had been three days since Madja first examined Azriel, and even the experienced healer was coming up empty. With every hour that passed, you felt the hope in your soul drain even further.  

"There has to be an answer somewhere." Cass placated, stretching out his wings from where he sat. "Someone has to have used this poison before." 

"That doesn't mean they had to write the antidote down, boy." Amren spoke cooly from her spot, ignoring your pointed glare. 

"What is it, Feyre?" Rhys asked, taking note of her trance like state. She shook her head slightly at her mate before turning her attention to the rest of the group. 

"Well...I was just thinking. Madja said whatever the cure ends up being will have to be powerful, but maybe we've been thinking about this too literally. Maybe it's not an answer that can be found in a book. What has been a powerful motivator for all of us over the years? Was even the answer to end Amarantha's reign?" she asked, the group shuddered at the mention of the name of that devil. "Love." 

You stared at your High Lady, head titled to the side. "Okay, but how is that going to help us now? It's not like any of us don't love Azriel." 

"And it's not exactly a position we can give him." Mor chimed in. 

Feyre reached out a tattooed hand and grasped Rhys' hand. "Or maybe it is." she countered. "I don't know about here in the Night Court, but haven't you ever heard fairytales? True love conquering all with a kiss, and all that?"  

"Do you think it would really work?" you ask, your tone warm and face full of light for the first time in days. 

All eyes fell to Rhys and Ameren for guidance. The two shared a look, silently communicating their opinions on the matter, but it was Rhys who spoke first. "I've never heard of an instance of true love's kiss being the answer, but since when have we been known to do anything traditionally?" he said with a small grin, inspiring a soft chuckle in the room. 

"Well," Cass dragged out. "I would try, but I don't think Az would appreciate me waking him up with a kiss." 

You rolled your eyes at the general, before considering the impact of his words. "Doesn't that leave us with a problem? Azriel hasn't found his mate, so we're still stuck and unable to break though." A small pang shot through you at the idea of Azriel's mated to an unknown female, but you quickly tamped that down. This was a matter of life or death. 

All eyes of the Inner Circle turned to face you. Looks of disbelief, amusement, and even understanding from Rhys, came your way. You caved in on yourself, suddenly feeling your cheeks heat under the scrutiny. This was not the time for their games. 

"What?" 

Mor spoke your name, gently, as her hand reached out to grasp yours. "Do we really need to spell it out?" she asked in your silence. 

"Spell what out?"

Amren, having had enough of the tiptoeing, finally spat it out. "That you're in love with the Shadowsinger, and have been for decades. If anyone in this room has the power to break this curse, it's you." 

A laugh bubbled up and out of your throat at her words, born out of sheer nerves that shot through your body. "N-no, no. I am not in love with Azriel. I mean, yes, I care for him - of course I do! I love him the way I love all of you. I'd do anything to help, but I really don't think this is going to work." you stuttered and stumbled over your words, bashful from the accusation. 

"We've all seen the way you look at each other, y/n." Feyre spoke gently, her eyes soft and she stared at you. "I think you love Azriel a bit differently than the rest of us." 

Her words brought tears to your eyes. Yes, you were in love with your best friend - how cliche. It had been that way for decades, but you never had the courage to speak up and say anything to him. And now, all these feelings were being dredged up in such a tense situation. What if it wasn't enough? What if you weren't enough to save him? 

"Okay, fine, you've caught me." you conceded, throwing your hands up in the air as your voice grew thick and heavy once more. "Is that what you want me to say? That I've been in love with Azriel for years, and it's killed me to just stay by his side as just a friend?" a defensive anger rose in your body as you looked at each member of your family. "But you're forgetting an important piece to this puzzle. Just because I'm in love with Azriel, doesn't mean I'm his true love." 

With that, you ran out of the room, collapsing against the wall in the hallway. You tried to take deep, steady breaths to calm your breathing, but it did little to help the situation. A few minutes later, you heard soft footsteps come up to your side, and Mor pulled you into a giant hug. The two of you stayed in silence for a few moments, grateful for the anchor she acted as in the moment. 

"I know that was a lot to throw on you, and for you to have to admit to us." she spoke, softly and cautiously. "And nobody judges you for how you feel or how you're reacting." 

"I'm so scared." you confessed. "W-what if I try and it doesn't work?" 

Mor looks at you with a gentle smile. "What if you try and it does work?" she countered. "I think you underestimate the extent of Azriel's feelings for you. And, if, Mother forbid, it doesn't work, then we'll figure something else out." 

Her words gave you a sense of comfort and the courage to wipe your tears and walk back towards Az's room. Before you stepped back in, you gave Mor's hand a grateful squeeze then rolled your shoulders back. 

All talking ceased as you walked back in, and you knew your family had to have been discussing what to do if you didn't agree with their plan. But this was Azriel's life on the line, and you would do anything to protect it. Even if that meant having your feelings revealed, or rejected. 

"Okay, let's try this." you told the Inner Circle, calmly and with conviction you tried to convince yourself you had. "But, all of you are waiting outside." 

There were no laughs or jokes at your expense, which surprised you, especially coming from Cassian. Instead, they all nodded their heads and solemnly and filed outside to wait. On his way out, Cassian squeezed your shoulder and nodded. 

"Bring him back to us." he whispered, board line pleading with you to save his brother's life. 

When it was just you and Azriel alone in the room, you took a deep breath and crossed the space until you knelt before his bed. You took the moment to study his features. His hazel eyes, normally full of life and mischief, now were shut off from you. His skin looked more swallow and the rise and fall of his chest seemed to slow with each breath that passed. Even the presence of his shadows seemed dimmer as Azriel's life slowly drained before your eyes. 

With a shaky hand, you reached out to brush away soft tendrils of hair that had fallen into Azriel's face. "Can you hear me, Az?"

The air was heavy as you waited a response that never came. 

"We all miss you so much. I miss you - my best friend. I-I know it's not fair of me to ask, but just keep holding on, keep fighting. Please." you whispered, leaning down to rest your forehead against his body, gathering your courage. "Look, Feyre has this crazy theory about what could save you. It's uh, true love's kiss." 

Again, no response. 

"This was not the way I expected to tell you, not that I thought I'd tell you if I'm being honest. But even though I don't want to jeopardize our friendship, I'd rather have you alive and never speak to me again than gone forever. So, here it goes." you took a deep breath. "I love you Azriel, I think I always have. You are so good and kind, and the kind of male I've dreamed about for years. I-it's okay if you don't feel the same," you forced yourself to say. "but I thought you should know given our situation."

Not sure what else to say, you took one more look at the male in front of you, placed a gentle kiss against his cheek, and then dipped your head down to meet his lips. They were chapped against your own after a few days without enough water. Az's normal smell of cedar and mist was faint, but still there, and comforted you as it surrounded your senses. 

You poured as much love and hope into the kiss as possible before slowly pulling away, falling to sit on your legs. The next few seconds that passed seemed to stretch for hours, waiting for a sign, a movement, anything. Just as you were about to sag and give up hope, a loud gasp sounded next to you and Azriel's frame jolted up. 

"Azriel!" you shouted, watching as the color returned to his face and his eyes darted around the room. 

Those hazel eyes finally landed on your frame, and Azriel quirked a small, albeit, sleepy smile at you. "y/n." he whispered, holding out a hand. 

Wasting no time, you grasped onto the anchor for dear life, and the tears immediately began to pour down your face. "I can't believe you're awake. Oh, I was so scared for you Azriel. How are you feeling? Are you in pain? We have to get Madja and the other's here. I'll go-" you rambled, before being cutting off my Azriel. 

"Hey, hey, calm down." he soothed, pulling you up onto the bed, flush against him. "I feel fine, considering I was just on the brink of death." he chuckled. 

"Don't make jokes like that." you swatted at his chest. "We almost lost you." 

"Yeah, but you saved me." he said, looking down at you in awe. 

Suddenly bashful again, you began to stutter. "Oh, no, I didn't do much. It was all Feyre's idea, and we all were here helping to research." 

"But Rhys and Cass weren't the one's to bring me back with a kiss." he said, and you felt as though your entire body was on fire at Azriel's words. 

"Y-you heard all that?" 

"I did." he nodded, nuzzling his nose against your neck. "And, I can't believe it took us until now to say anything, but I love you, y/n." he admitted, turning your face so you stared into his eyes. 

As the words left Azriel's lips, both of your gasped. This time, however, it wasn't because of a sleeping curse, but because of the taught, golden thread you felt connecting your soul to Azriel's. Your mind swirled with a thousand thoughts, but the loudest one was "mate, mate, mate." 

You stared at the male before you in awe, and Azriel grinned. "My mate. My knight in shining armor." he teased, then leaned down to capture your lips once more. 

This time, the kiss sent butterflies to your stomach and you revealed in the feeling of Azriel's strong arms around your body. His kiss was long and unhurried, as though you had all the time in the world to explore. And as you kissed him back, you found yourself giddy at the thought of the rest of your immortal life with Azriel.

It was only when the doors had been thrown open and the rest of your family came stumbling in did you and Azriel pull apart. The two of you looked at each other, then busted out laughing at the shocked faces of your family. 

"It worked!" 

"You're awake." 

"The two of you are mates?!" 

Their voices all overlapped, and you felt Az sigh against you, hugging you close. Yes, your family was a lot, but they meant well. And now, you could live happily ever after. 

oOoOo

a/n: ahh, I'm pretty impressed by how quickly this went from an idea to a story! kinda feel like I rushed the end, but oh well! hope you enjoyed!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Jealous

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Pernille's a little jealous

Pernille wouldn't call herself a jealous person. She's never really wanted what others had. She's never looked at something someone has had and desperately wanted it for herself.

Similarly, she's never had a problem with people looking at Magda. She's never had a problem with fans fawning over her or some girl trying to dance with her at a club.

Pernille knows Magda loves her. She knows that Magda would never stray. They have you together. They've built a family together.

Pernille knows that you and her are the most important things in Magda's life.

Which is why it's strange that she's feeling jealous right now.

She'd just come in from training, hair slightly damp from the sudden rain shower that appeared and feeling glad she had sent you inside with Magda earlier.

Magda had cut her own session short after feeling a twinge in her ankle so went in to get it taped as a precaution.

The physio's office is where Pernille finds you and her now.

Magda's sitting in one of the beds, leg stretched outwards as one of the new physios massages her leg despite it being an ankle injury that sent her indoors.

You're in her lap and Magda's desperately trying to braid your hair back from where it's escaped from your hair tie.

She's not doing very well. Usually, she'll just throw it up into a ponytail and call it a day but Pernille thinks it's nice that Magda's trying so hard to give you a hairstyle that you'll really like.

It's a brief thought though as Pernille's eyes focus on the young physio.

She's talking to you in particular, nodding along as you babble about what you did last night and how Magda read your bedtime story and how you slept in her newest Sweden jersey.

The physio smiles at you before glancing up at Magda. "You're feeling really tight there, Mags. Really having to use all my strength here."

It's a blatant attempt at flirting as the physio bats her eyes a few times before letting out a groan of effort that could easily be sexual.

It makes Pernille's blood boil. One, because it's very obvious that she and Magda are together and two, that this new physio is using you to try and worm her way into Magda's heart.

She's fawning and cooing over you and Magda (poor, sweet, oblivious Magda) can't even tell.

That's the other annoying bit. Magda has no clue she's being flirted with and that really pisses Pernille off. It's not the first time something like this has happened before either.

Magda never knew when a girl was flirting with her. She never knew until they attempted to kiss her and Pernille had hoped that the years would have made Magda more aware of it happening but clearly not.

The physio giggles again and it takes everything in Pernille not to snap at her.

Instead, she plucks you off Magda's lap without saying anything, adjusting you so you're on her hip.

"I'm taking her home," She says, trying not to lose her temper as the physio inches her hands further up Magda's leg," The rain isn't going to let up anytime soon. Practice is postponed."

"Give me a few minutes," Magda says," We're nearly done here."

The physio pouts and it sends another bolt of anger down Pernille's spine. She doesn't like the way her hand it still on Magda's leg. It's inappropriate for work.

If Magda needs her leg massaged then Pernille would be happy to do it herself at home.

"I need to grab my bag." She says instead," If you're not by the car in five minutes then I'm leaving without you."

Momma walks off without Morsa, who scrambles away from the weird lady who was touching her.

You frown.

Momma doesn't talk to Morsa like that, all angry and annoyed. It's strange.

"Momma," You say as Momma grabs her bag and makes her way out to the car," Why's Morsa not coming with?"

Momma's jaw is clenched. You can tell.

"That's your Morsa's choice," Momma tells you as she straps you into your seat.

She slides into her chair just as Morsa comes running out the building.

She tries to open the passenger door but can't.

Momma's locked it.

"Pernille!" Magda bangs on the window. "Pernille, come on! I'm here!"

"You're late."

"I was just talking to Elizab-"

"Elizabeth!" Pernille snaps and your head ping pongs between them," Well, why don't you go back to talking to Elizabeth while you wait for your taxi to turn up!"

"Pernille! Really? Are we really going to argue right now? I don't even know what I've done wrong!"

"Then you've got lots of time on the trip home to work it out!"

Magda is silent for a while before it all seems to dawn on her. "Is this really about Elizabeth? Pernille-"

"You better not be about to tell me that it's all in my head! Her hands were way too high up to be a massage. In front of Princesse as well! In front of our child!"

"Let me in!" Magda says," I promise that I didn't realise! I thought she was just being helpful."

Pernille draws in a long breath. She knows that she's being irrational but sometimes these things just creep up on her.

She unlocks the car and Magda slips in.

"Hi, Morsa!" you chirp and she looks back to look at you.

"Hi, Princesse."

"Why'd Momma lock you out?"

Magda almost laughs as Pernille's hands clench around the steering wheel, pulling out of the parking spot and beginning to drive home.

"Well, I'm a little silly sometimes. Do you know what flirting is?"

You nod. "Like how Sam's girlfriend makes her feel all giggly and silly by talking to her."

"Exactly like that," Magda laughs," Well, Elizabeth was trying to flirt with me but I'm silly so I didn't notice."

"Oh," You say," That's bad because you're with Momma."

"That's right so that upset Momma a little bit," Magda continues," And when I didn't react to her flirting, she tried touching me to see if I was interested."

You frown. "Is that why she offered you the massage even though you hurt your ankle and not your knee?"

"That's-"

"She asked about it in front of Princesse?!" Pernille demands before this whole situation becomes a bit too funny for her liking. "And you didn't realise, Magda? God, how oblivious are you?"

Magda's cheeks go red with embarrassment. "Well," She says," I know you like me hot and oblivious. That way no one can take me from you."

Pernille full on laughs. "As if you would let yourself be taken."

"And Momma didn't like her touching you either?" You ask, your mind still trying to work out what has just happened.

"I didn't like it at all," Pernille says," And I was very annoyed that your Morsa let it happen."

The car is silent for a few minutes as you turn it over in your head before calling for Magda's attention again.

"You should tell Elizabeth that Momma will beat her up if she tries it again!"

[emilys-bangs]

this celebration thing is so fun and congrats on the followers :) the fluff prompt #62 “it can wait until tomorrow” might be a good emily one. like she puts off work to go have fun w reader or make time for date night or something like that. up to you, love your writing <3

I’m so glad you’re having fun with it! I am too ;) and tysm, hope you like this <3

Join my celebration here

Word count: 0.9k

Emily frowns down at the paperwork littering her desk, a throbbing headache clawing its way to her temples. Her pen is held loosely in her hand as she gives herself a small break from writing, her fingers cramped and aching.

She has yet to get used to this part of the job.

If she can focus on anything other than the infuriating red tape she’s trying to work her way through, she’d notice the way her shoulders are tense, the ache in her lower back from sitting too long.

As it is, she doesn’t notice these things. Not until a knock sounds on the door and she looks up, finding you just across the threshold of her office.

“Hi,” you smile, beautiful if a little hesitant—it couldn’t be at disturbing her, could it? You do it all the time.

Then her gaze dips down to your outfit, fancy and way too nice for the bullpen, and the realization dawns with a click.

Emily stands up, the pen falling from her hand and thudding onto the desk. “I’m so sorry, it slipped from my mind.” She blurts, and the brief worry on your face smooths out as you smile and cross the floor of her office.

“It’s okay, pretty,” you hum as you reach her, leaning over her desk to steal a kiss. Emily’s cheeks heat at the title, dropping so lovingly from your mouth even when your planned date night slipped from her mind.

“It’s not,” she murmurs, her words muffled against your lips. Her hand travels to your waist and she squeezes lightly, “Just give me a minute, I’ll pack up and we can go.”

You were supposed to go have dinner—location unknown, a precaution that you had started taking after one too many dates had been canceled in favor of a case—about, Emily looks down at her watch, half an hour ago. Darkness presses itself against her office windows, the cotton candy pink of the sunset long gone while she labored away at her desk.

“We don’t have to,” you say, still holding on to her. That in itself tells her your words are less than genuine, even without hearing the slight uncertainty to your voice. It’s been too long since the two of you went out. “If you’re busy.”

“I’m not.” Emily lies. The mountain of paperwork behind her betrays her, but it’s something that can wait, damn it, and she’s not going to postpone another date night if she can help it. “Just give me a minute.” She repeats.

She barely lets go of you before you’re protesting. “Emily, it’s fine,” a frown draws your brows together as you peer over her shoulder, “that stack looks awful, I wouldn’t want it to pile up on you even more—”

Emily takes your hand off her waist and brushes her lips along your knuckles, promptly shutting you up. Her fingers curl around yours as your mouth audibly snaps shut, a hitch in your breath that she’s too close not to hear.

“It can wait until tomorrow.” Emily insists, her voice purposely low and soft; smoky, like the warm remnants of a bonfire, but also firm in the way she’s learned to be since becoming Unit Chief.

Stubborn as ever, you still try to persist. “But—”

“Hey, hey, I’m the boss.” Emily interrupts. She has half a mind to kiss you brainless, just to slow down that mouth of yours. 

On second thought—

Emily gently pinches your chin and brings you closer, until your lips meet hers. The fight audibly leaks out of you as you sigh into her mouth and melt into her, your hands digging into her waist. The feeling is heavenly, reminding Emily just what exactly she’s fighting you so hard for. A matching sigh leaves her lips; it echoes in the space between your bodies.

Before she can get too carried away, Emily leans back. “And the boss commands you to take her out,” she cups your face, gently nuzzling her nose against yours.

Your bottom lip slides between your teeth. “I’m not sure if you know, but I take my boss’ orders very seriously.” She loves the way you’re a little breathless, inhaling and exhaling in soft pants against her lips.

Emily winks, spidery lashes kissing her cheek. “I was counting on that.”

Your face lights up as you grin. You start backing away, but your hand links insistently with hers, pulling her with you. “And you know how I hate to disappoint you, Chief,” you tug impatiently as Emily resists the pull to pocket her phone, a low chuckle leaving her mouth.

“Just a second, my love. You’re so impatient.” She tsks, letting your arms pull taught as she shuffles the rest of her scattered paperwork in a pile—one handed, because apparently there’s glue smeared between your palm and hers.

You let out an indignant sound and the tension between your locked hands loosens as you let go. Emily frowns, but a second later you tackle her from behind, your arms wrapping around her neck. 

“Take that back!”

The sound of your intertwined laughter spills out of her office and down the stairs. Soon later the shadows of your retreating forms follow across the dim bullpen as she pulls you out, eager for a night of bliss spent with you.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

[sunayyyy]

Worst fandom mischaracterisation/headcanon of each bat-associated character, in my opinion (these are in no particular order) :

1. Duke Thomas is the sane, rational, "normal" one.

Have you ever read the We Are Robin arc? Duke is fucking unhinged, his introduction was him jumping off a bridge to escape cops. This is a kid whose father is immortal and is the first metahuman in the batfam. He lost his parents in the most horrendous way possible (joker venom. They're still alive, but it's horrifying) and organised a whole gang as a child. He threw down with a green lantern and 2 shot his ass. Hopefully, this headcanon is just a product of people not really knowing the character and goes away soon once people find out more about him, when he isn't just the token black guy in a fic or a background character in batfam drama.

2. Stephanie Brown is quirky and sassy, and ONLY quirky and sassy. She's over her trauma with Black Mask and Cluemaster!!

Stephanie Brown is a very interesting character, with an origin story that is very similar to jason todd. She's been through hell, yet she constantly gets infantalised by the fandom, which gets kind of ignored in favour of talking shit about how people infantilse tim (super valid and I'll come back to it later on in this post). You most commonly see this in timsteph stories where they show her as the immature first love, and how as tim grows up, he needs to date more "serious" people, as if tim wasn't the main reason their relationship never worked. This is also common in stephcass fics, although on a smaller level. Writers tend to make stephanie the bubbly outgoing girl that balances out all of cass' angst (some of those fics are really good, but they mould steph in a specific shape so she can be a prop for cass to heal). On an even smaller scale, I've seen both romantic and platonic jaysteph stories where stephanie appears as the "good" victim who let go of her animosity to black mask and cluemaster, and so now, she can help jason let go of what happened with the joker, and bruce's abuse. Obviously, this is a disservice to both of these characters, but people tend to focus on how it's more of a disservice to jason instead of steph. Let my girl express her trauma and heal, and stop using her as a prop for other characters! She wasn't just cutesy as robin, she threw the fuck down. Her introduction included hitting tim in the head with a brick!

3. Slut/himbo Dick Grayson is reductive of his abilities as a leader, and is not only offensive to real survivors of SA, but incredibly racist towards Romani people.

Do I really need to explain this one? Dick Grayson is a symbol of hope that bruce wishes batman could be. This man is a natural born leader and has stepped up to the plate multiple times, both during his time with the titans and as batman. He's charismatic and lovable and a genuinely intelligent man, but for some reason, he gets depicted as a dumbass who has to deffer to bruce or tim or babs any time he has an issue with detective work. Yes, you can delegate. Of course, you can delegate, but going straight to tim and rattling off the case you JUST accepted doesn't make sense, ESPECIALLY if you're on seperate cases and tim or bruce have to postpone their work just to solve it for you. As for the other part, Dick has been heavily implied to be demisexual, given that he only has sex with people he has genuine feelings for. He wouldn't just sleep with any random woman who compliments his ass enough. Also, having an SA victim be characterised as a slut is both reductive of their trauma and a weird way that some authors justify how he's "over it." Really doesn't help that he was slut shamed (canonically!! why is this canon??) by the rest of the titans after sleeping with mirage, who pretended to be kori. Additionally, it's really weird if the first thing you think of when you see an attractive romani man just sleeps around. People don't say that about other conventionally attractive characters, even ones who HAVE slept around. The only character i can think of that gets characterised like this is bruce, but that's an image that he cultivated to keep batman hidden.

4. Jason Todd was always doomed by the narrative. He would have died if bruce hadn't intervened. Also, pit rage.

The tragedy of jason todd was, and always has been, that he was doomed by the AUDIENCE. He wasn't just an angry, reckless child, and calling him the angry robin is stupid and reductive. Was he angry? of course he was, but so was dick, and so was damian. Using a single word to describe a person is never going to be enough. Jason was notoriously compassionate to victims, especially women and children, and sex abuse victims. He got pissed when the system he was asked to believe in was shown to be ineffective, to the point where bruce believed he killed a man over it. The kid had a bright future ahead and loved school, modt of robin!jason's shitty qualities came from bruce and alfred compartmentaling his image and shitting on him to ease their guilt over his death. Pit rage is also a cheap way to take away his autonomy, an easy pass to explain the shitty things he's done. I like it when the pit has side effects like glowing eyes or increased healing or something, but pit rage is stupid. It's either used to force characters to forgive jason since he wasn't himself or as an angst prompt for jason, another testament to how he came back wrong, or a way to have him hurt a character to further up THEIR angst (*cough* titans tower AU fics*cough*). Yes, he did shitty things. Let him do shitty things without giving him an easy out. Otherwise, your story isn't compelling at all.

5. Feral Damian Wayne is just straight-up racist, no?

I love damian. I think that, for the most part, he's been written pretty well. However, damian suffers from the fact that he's an arab character in a post 9/11 comic, and thus there is bound to be some casual racism, both in comics (like when tim assumed he was too uncivilised to know what a handshake is) and fandom. Has damian wayne done a lot of shitty things, especially to tim? Yes, absolutely. But that doesn't make him feral. He was raised by assassins as the heir to the throne and to the greatest hero in the world, raised to think that blood relations are the only ones that matter, so of course he's dismissive of tim. He's also a prince who was raised in luxury, who was born as royalty and has experienced more opulence during his birth thsn most peoole do in a lifetime, although this opulence is extremely conditional, with horrifying requirements (the story with damian having a metal spine as a child is insane). Does it make what he did to tim right? Definitely not. Does it excuse his actions? Also no. But it does explain them, it tells us where it came from. Being traumatised and having extremely high expectations of both sides of your family doesn't make you feral.

6. Tim Drake is just a small little baby who can't function without his coffee.

Let me preface this by saying that i don't like tim drake. At all. As a huge fan of the al ghuls it was a real kick in the balls having Ra's be reduced to a creepy pedophile who wanted tim as an heir, and sent a woman to rape tim in order to carry his child. Also, I hate how DC decided to prop him up by shitting on jason todd. However, this doesn't mean that I don't enjoy his YJ run and that I don't enjoy some of his comics/fics. That being said, nothing on this earth pisses me off more than tim stans. You know the ones, the people who want damian hanged, who want dick and jason and bruce to fall to their knees and beg for forgiveness. Tim has been through an insane amount of trauma, and that's understandable, but please, for the love of god, don't create more whump for tim at the cost of other characters. You can hate damian, I wouldn't blame you, but remember that he's like 10 and tim put him on a hit list. Dick never wanted to put tim in arkham, and he didn't have time to support tim when it came to an honestly insane (although ultimately correct) conclusion. Also damian as robin was alfred's idea, and damian was the one that put on the costume preemptively, dick got pissed at damian for that. When it comes to jason, I'd say it's complicated. While titans tower was fucked up, it wasn't as bad as people made it out to be. My first introduction to the fandom was through jason todd since he was my favourite robin, and then i learned they brought him back to life when i played injustice. The number of fics and posts that mention that jason went to the tower specifically to kill tim is insane. When i got into comics, it was like whiplash; it wasn't a one-sided beatdown, tim was conscious until the end, the goofy ass robin suit jason had on, jason never slitting tim's throat (that happens in hush, and even then i don't think he really slit his throat, since the art shows that the skin was kinda nicked), all of that was wild to me. BftC is one of the shittiest comjc book runs when it comes to characterisation in general, and I've already discussed dick and tim, so it's only fair to talk about jason and tim. There's no justification here, honestly, other than shitty writing i guess. The other side of the coin is enemies to caretaker jason and tim, which is so fucking wild?? they're like 2 years apart, and tim is extremely competent, he wouldn't pass out mid patrol because he forgot his coffee.

7. Bruce Wayne doesn't believe people can change and doesn't care about Crime Alley.

For the first one, please fucking read a single comic book. Just one. Better yet, maybe research why batman doesn't kill. You know, the most popular thing about him? As for the second, it's mostly just a way to show how jason is better than bruce and how he's right to take over the alley since no one cares about it. Now I LOVE jason todd. He's my favourite comic book character of all time tied with gambit and Dr. Strange. But I hate it when you create angst or comeuppance by blatantly ignoring the chatacter and their motives. Bruce became batman so that what happened to his parents can never happen again, and this includes helping the poor people in crime alley either through patrolling there or by setting up countless charities to improve life there. You can make the case that batman avoided crime alley after jason died. It's not canon, but it would make sense. However, I dont see him ever giving up on the alley, both to prevent what happened to his parents, and to help people like his dead son. I fucking hate bruce, he's done a lot of shitty things, but making shit up just to make him worse is getting old.

8. Misc

There aren't really enough mischaracterisations about cass and babs to warrant separate paragraphs, so I'll just reiterate the infantalisation of cass and babs having no qualities outside of oracle, master hacker, and dick grayson's on and off lover.

[armpirate]

Bittersweet || San

Bf experience

pairing: Idol!Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 6.2k

Warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, smut, rough sex, oral sex (female receiving), masturbation (female receiving), unprotected sex, breast play, dirty talk. (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content).

Summary: After some change of plans at work forced him to stood you up for your birthday, your boyfriend comes up with sometimes to make up for it.

Aprox. time of reading: 26 minutes

MASTERLIST

San looked at the empty dinner table where a few petals left were lying, and that a few hours back were part of the decoration along with some dishes filled with food. He didn't dare to step inside the kitchen and fridge, because he knew it would be filled with all the food he had ordered, and that birthday cake he managed to buy a day before everything escaped his control.

The plan was easy: order all of your favorite food, buy your favorite cake, and be at home on time so he could celebrate his favorite person's birthday. But instead, the recordings took longer than they should have, and one problem came after the other.

You kept insisting throughout the week how it wasn't necessary for him to do all that for you, and how you could postpone that celebration to a more peaceful time. But it was enough to see your smile attempting to break your concerned expression for him to know he needed to be there for you. He was also sure that, the same way you tried to convince him to save it up for another time, you'd say it was alright when he stepped inside your bedroom and joined you in the bed.

It was always like that. His work got in the way of your relationship, and your first words were "It's okay", when he indeed knew it wasn't okay.

It was of no help how you stayed at home, instead of spending your birthday with your friends, because he assured you he'd be just "a bit late". Not only did he felt like he ruined the dinner, he felt guilty by making you sit there by yourself while you waited for something that would never happen, at least not that night.

"Food won't show up as much as you think about it" you joked behind him.

San turned to you as soon as he heard your voice, momentarily distracted by how good you looked wearing one of his gray hoodies, exposing your bare thighs and walking around like the treat he knew he didn't deserve.

"I didn't hear you enter" you added, walking to him.

For nights like that one, you gave San your code. It was comfortable, and it was also a special show of affection and trust. But it also gave him the possibility to spoil you with something as simple as going to sleep all alone, and feeling warmed by his embrace after you woke up in the middle of the night -or seeing his face the first thing in the morning when a few hours back you didn't think you'd see him.

Although that night you waited for him. You stayed in bed, scrolling through TikTok and social media, just to pretend to be asleep when he stepped inside the room and snuggled next to you, surrounding your waist carefully so as not to wake you up. You started to think you'd fall asleep before he even showed up, and that was why you got up for a glass of water, forcing yourself to stay up.

And that was when you saw him.

The living room was only lit by the two hanging lamps over the dinner table, making your boyfriend the focus of the whole place. The side on San's body that was looking at the table was bathed by the warm light, while the other half stayed in the dark, making his figure even thicker and wider by the contrast of lights.

"I tried to be careful. I didn't want to wake you up" he answered, turning to you at the same time his arms slightly opened for you.

Your hands moved around his tiny waist, ascending to his side under the black bomber. His arms instantly enclosed around you, trapping you in a gentle but safe grip you didn't want to get away from in a really long time.

As his hands moved over your nape and spine, he could feel each one of your muscles relaxing under his touch, even he could feel the weight of your head a bit heavier on his chest as you snuggled against him.

"How was your day? I bet you're tired" your voice sounded muffled, but you didn't move a single millimeter to make it sound clearer, you were too hooked on his woody scent.

San dropped a sigh, moving his hand up inside the locks of your hair "It was nothing special" he assured. "I recorded my parts earlier today, I went to work out, I rehearsed for a bit. And when I was getting my things ready to leave, they told me I had to record my parts again because there were some issues" he softly explained, never stopping the gentle movements of his fingers on your scalp. "How was your day?".

You simply shrugged, hiding your face deeper in his chest as you remembered your shift had nothing special that day. You did your daily tasks as usual, and finished them around the same time as well. And apparently your boss kept track of your personal schedule as much as you did, because he called you into his office as soon as you thought about picking up your phone to answer some texts. Being offered the promotion you were waiting for wasn't on your plans for the day, and being explained what it consisted of -aware of how your boss had thought of you enough to bother explaining every detail of that new position-, or what would be the changes you'd need to face.

"It was good. It's actually been better after I talked to you about it and how I felt" you admitted, sighing. "And you won't believe it, but they offered me the promotion".

San pushed you carefully, just enough to be able to look at your face as his eyes widened with the good news.

"You're saying it as if it was the most normal thing".

"It is the most normal thing" you giggled. "Besides, I don't really want to talk about it right now".

Your face was hidden back in his chest as your arms wrapped around him tight. You didn't think that it wasn't important, or that it wasn't big. You just didn't want to make the mood even heavier by ranting about the pros and cons that would come with the promotion.

"I missed you so much" your voice sounded muffled again, making him chuckle.

Unlike other times, you were able to see each other quite frequently. It was the positive thing of that time between comebacks and tours: he was still busy, but he was able to be around whenever he was done. Whether it was by the way he sneaked inside your room, or how you cuddled on the couch when he happened to have a day off.

"You saw me yesterday" he tried to knock some sense into your comment, instantly getting a squinted look from you.

"So you mean you didn't miss me?".

"Of course I did. I miss you every minute" he pulled you in for a hug again.

You moved back, only a little bit to look up at him, standing on your tiptoes to be able to link your lips together. Your hands moved from his waist to his shoulders, holding onto the neck of his bomber to be able to keep your balance -it didn't matter though, because San's hands were firmly holding you, resting on your lower back.

"Let's go to sleep" you broke the kiss first, taking every remaining of his saliva from your lips as you moved your tongue over them. "You must be tired".

Your clumsy step was interrupted by the grip of his fingers around your wrist, pulling you closer to his body suddenly as he scrunched down to lift your body and carry you like a bride, making you rushed to cover your lips with your palms as you felt a scream aiming up your throat by the sudden movement.

Resisting San and his charms was something that would never be in your plans. One small gesture, like picking you up to take you to bed, had you giggling against the curve of his neck and looking at him with eyes full of love.

He left you on the bed carefully, leaning over the mattress until you were back inside of the only space that wasn't covered by the blanket, silently growling as he stood back up. San couldn't help but smile when you quickly covered your body, only leaving half of your face out to look at him with smiley eyes.

"I'll put the pajamas on and I'll be right back" he let you know, caressing in between your eyebrows with his thumb before he stepped back from the bed.

When he opened the closet, his sleeping clothes were folded in the same place where you always left them after you had cleaned them. He had brought three different pajamas for whenever he spent the night with you, but you knew that white t-shirt and those plaid pants were his favorite. That was why they were always on the top.

San didn't take long to join you on the bed, dragging your body until you were lying on his side, surrounded by his arms, backed up by his body, and with his chin hooked on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry for today" he whispered once the sound of the sheets and your giggles were over, breathing heavily as he dropped that apology that he was sure wouldn't be enough.

"You shouldn't be sorry" you answered back. "We can celebrate it tomorrow. It's not like you did it on purpose".

"I didn't. But I promised you I'd be here, and I didn't".

"So I'm cuddling with a hologram?" you joked.

That was what he loved the most about you, and what it made him hate himself and be sure that he wouldn't ever deserve you. He was the one supposed to cheer you up for messing up that day, and instead it was you the one trying to make him feel better and taking the blame off his shoulders.

The tip of your fingers moved over the arm that you were using as a pillow, trying to reassure him that you meant your words. He wouldn't ever do anything on purpose to hurt you, you knew that, and seeing him having a hard time over something that was out of his control was hurting you.

You finally sighed, rolling over your body to face him, placing your palm over his cheek.

"This is like the trip story all over again. I know I'd probably react the same way you do if I were in your position, but I cannot make you feel guilty over missing dinner. You bought the food, you bought the cake... I know if it had been your choice, you'd have spent the whole day with me" your words sounded calm and soft. "Getting mad at you over this would be unfair".

And would only add more pressure and guilt on him.

"I'm just worried you might think you aren't my main priority" he finally admitted it.

"If I weren't, you wouldn't be feeling bad right now. And you'd probably be making up excuses" your thumb rubbed against his cheek.

You had another answer about being his main priority, assuring him that it didn't matter if his dream came before you, because you knew how much he fought to be where he was. But you didn't say it. You knew San would rant about how you shouldn't ever accept being the second priority of someone, not even if it was him, because you were more important and special than anything else. Last time you dared to say something like that, he stayed on the topic for almost two hours, until you finally nodded and promised him you wouldn't accept to be the second place in anyone's life.

"But..."

"If you say anything else after that 'but', I'll make you sleep on the couch" you warned him.

His lips disappeared in his mouth as he tried to keep himself from saying everything that was going on inside his head. Your proud smile helped move those thoughts away, to the surprise of no one, wrapping his arms around you to glue your bodies together in a warm hug.

"I love you so much, babe" he said, looking down at you.

"I love you, too".

You moved your body up a little, just enough to be able to link your lips together in a short and small peck. When you both were supposed to move back into the hug, you two also moved your faces forward to go for another kiss. A short kiss that slowly turned into a passionate one between some licks and sucking into each other's lips. Your fingers were messing with his hair, dragging him with you as you laid on your back.

While one of his hands supported your head, the other traveled over the curve of your hip, moving past the elastic of your panties to sneak inside the fabric of his hoodie. Your heavy breath, as you felt his digits digging further, almost interrupted your kiss. San smirked with that reaction, infecting you with his sensuality by just exchanging one look, before you dragged him back for another kiss.

His lips felt soft on yours, wishing you could kiss them for hours -and you probably would if only you could. Your body moved under his touch, trying to get closer to him as the tip of his fingers finally got to the curve of your breast. At the same time his mouth pulled from your lower lip, his fingertips dented on your tit, getting your back to slightly arch. Your nipple tightened under his palm, weak to the friction of his skin against yours. The combination of his fingers massaging your scalp, his tongue diving into your mouth and his palm going down your belly again were blurring your mind.

You could only think of him and the way he made you feel. So wanted and loved you even doubted it was even a real feeling.

A hum escaped your lips, and your legs undirectly spread, when his fingers moved past the elastic of your panties, sliding his fingers over your clit and sliding them through your slid over your panties.

"Let me make up for today, hmm?"

You were so focused on how deep his voice sounded after breaking the kiss, and how his lips looked shiny and moist, that your brain wasn't able to put two words together that could make sense. Slowly, you nodded.

San showered your face with kisses, giving small pecks on every corner he didn't pay attention to, while his hands started to lift his hoodie, slowly exposing your skin under the blankets, taking off the fabric with your help. His tongue moved down your throat, forcing you to throw your head back by the involuntary way your body reacted to him, topping it with a kiss on your chin.

He kept spreading with open-mouthed kisses over your torso, moving down to your cleavage and changing his position as he kissed the space in between your breasts. His knee was strategically positioned in between your legs, offering you something to rub yourself against when you couldn't take it anymore. San knew how sensitive your nipples were, and he wasn't surprised by the way your body squirmed with the soft kisses he laid on the two of them.

Just like he expected, your hips didn't take long to bounce against his leg, grinding against the fabric of his pants at the same time his tongue twirled around your hard button. When you looked down, you could only see the curtain his bangs had formed, and his nose peeking over them as it rubbed against your skin every time he went down to trap your nipple in between his lips.

Your clit throb every time his tongue moved over the tip, causing your hips to grind a bit harder against his leg. He was putting you in such a delicate state that you were sure you'd be able to cum by doing that only.

As he held you, San could sense it, too. Your muscles tensed with every move you made, your breathing was starting to be irregular and you were barely able to keep your hands still as the both of them gripped on his t-shirt.

A groan vibrated through your chest when he found your panties drenched in your arousal as he replaced his leg with his fingers, moving them in circles on your clit over your underwear. With every loud breath that hinted the start of those moans that always gifted his ears, a camouflaged moan came out, encouraging him to add his teeth every time he pulled from your nipple. That slightly mix of pain and pleasure stole the first moan of the night.

"Babe, I'm gonna cum" you warned him, feeling your pussy clenching around nothing as it desperately seeked for him.

Instead of getting him to stop and fuck you, San sneaked his hand inside your panties, earning a whine from you when his fingers met your swollen clit, keeping the same pace as he was following seconds back.

Your skin was burning with every move he made from one side to the other, and your jaw was clenched as you tried to keep those sounds to yourself. It was so impressive how he was always able to drive you insane like it was the first time and make your body melt in his embrace as he carried you through your orgasm.

He moved his hand away carefully, kneeling in front of you and causing the blankets to fall behind his body. How he moved in front of you caused you to support yourself on your elbows, getting a full vision of what he was going to do.

What you didn't know was that seeing you in that position was probably the most erotic image he could've ever thought of. His cock twitched inside his boxers, asking for that attention that he wouldn't give to it until he was done with you.

Your hips lifted at the same time his fingers hooked on the elastic of your panties, helping him take them off.

Just like San did with your upper body, he started a trail of kisses from your ankle to your knee. He gave you one fast look, giving you a smirk, as his lips moved past the joint. His kisses were so sweet and chaste, and his hands were holding you so attentively, that contrasted hardly with what was about to happen.

Your eyes never left him, as tortured as you felt when he kissed around your folds, as needy you felt when your hips instinctively lifted to his mouth. He had your full attention, and he loved being the focus of it.

"Hmm" you hummed, licking your lips he finally kissed you over your wet slit.

In an attempt to make him more comfortable, you widened the space in between your legs. And that also worked as a sign that you wanted more from him, that you craved way more than what he was offering you.

You could feel every single hair of your body rising when he slid the tip of his tongue from your entrance to your clit, getting a first taste of you. His tongue twirled around your clit, getting you ready, moving so slowly that you thought he was trying to torture you rather than prepare you.

Your fists closed, grabbing the sheets underneath you when his mouth pulled from your bundle of nerves, letting go of it with a loud sound before he took it back in between his lips again.

He always took his time whenever he went down on you, exploring every millimeter he hadn't explored, taking you to the edge and leaving you hanging for a bit more because he just loved when you surrendered to pleasure, enjoying each and every single one of your reactions as his tongue toyed with you. He was in love with how vocal you were, and how receptive you always showed yourself in front of him.

"You taste so good, babe" he mumbled, sinking his lips back in your slit.

His hands cupped your ass cheeks, lifting your hips and forcing your legs over his shoulders, caging his head in between them. Something shifted in his movements when he changed you to that position, and you could feel it on the way he held onto your flesh. He kept flicking his tongue on your clit, suddenly stopping to move his flat tongue over it. San repeated that same movement a few times, taking his time at first, and slowly moving his head up and down a bit faster, pressing a bit harder to get you to hold onto the sheets as if you'd escape your body at any given time.

His face moved lower on you, enough to be able to slide his tongue inside you, making your whole body wake up at the sudden invasion. At first he just slid it in and out, testing you and seeing your reflection, but soon it was as deep as it physically was able to, causing his nose to rub against your clit while he moved his face to the sides.

You reached to his hair, moving his bangs back, a bit too back to have a few locks falling back over his forehead and forcing you to pull them back again to be able to see his eyes as he ate you out, taking every drop of arousal that kept leaking from you because of him. His kitten gaze made such a huge contrast on what he was doing to you and how he was making you feel that you thought you'd be going crazy.

You were holding onto his locks as if your life depended on it, pushing his head a bit deeper into your core, feeling the friction of the tip of his nose against your clit got a bit more intense. You were losing yourself to him, and he loved watching you take everything he had to offer you, shameless to show off how good he was making you feel with those cracked moans that went straight to his cock.

The second orgasm didn't take much longer to fall upon you like a ray, going through your body from head to toe.

While you tried to recover from your high, San made his way up to your lips, kissing every bit of skin that was on the way until he was finally where he wanted to be. You could feel how big and thick he had become once he laid on top of you, lifting your hips to acknowledge the bulge before he kissed you with a smirk. You could your own taste mixed with his saliva as he twirled his tongue around yours, and just that sensory push was enough to feel your juices dripping down your core again.

"Does my girl want more?" he purred in between kisses.

"I always want more of you" you assured him, licking his lower lip. "Why don't you take it all off and fuck me like you're dying to do?".

He pecked the bridge of your nose, stepping out of the bed to get rid of all of his clothes, making your mouth water at the sight of his cock ready to split you open.

All those dirty thoughts were eclipsed by your clumsy boyfriend almost falling when he kicked the pants and his boxers away, before jumping back on the bed, making the whole mattress bounce with him.

"Desperate much?" you teased him back.

"Yes" he nodded, placing himself in between your legs. "So much I think I'm actually obsessed with you and how good you feel wrapped around me".

Your lip was trapped under your teeth, that tightened their pressure when San's tip pushed against your entrance to slowly slide inside with a gentle thrust. His fingers squeezed the skin behind your knees when he was completely in, trying to make sure you were okay. It was his way to tell you he was waiting for your approval to start moving.

Your hips lifted right after, giving him that sign he was waiting for. His thrusts started as slow and deep, letting you feel every inch spreading you out, every vein rubbing against your insides. He leaned over you, stealing a kiss from your lips, completely drunk by the way you took him in so easily.

"Move a bit faster, love" you asked

He changed the speed while resting his forehead on yours, almost drinking up all the quiet moans that left your lips and floated in between you.

You frowned when he moved back up again, only to change the position of your legs. He put them together, lifting them up to his shoulders before he slid back inside and moved back down to your face.

That new position made it impossible for you to control the loud moan that burned your throat as it escaped, feeling his tip hitting deeper with every thrust.

"Does it feel better this way?" he growled against your lips. "Fuck, I can feel how you squeeze me in so tight".

"Uh-hum" you whined. "You feel so big".

Your eyes rolled to the back when he changed the speed again, going a bit faster and making your skin clap with every thrust. The plead in them was driving him crazy, contacting with his most animalistic side as you begged for more.

"Sannie, babe..." you started mumbling after a few minutes, holding onto the wrists that were on both sides of your head. "I want to ride you".

His pounds lost power and speed, until he was completely still inside of you. He pulled out, letting go of your legs and moving back to lie next to you. With his help, you straddled his lap, placing your needs on each side of his hips.

One hand was positioned on your thigh, caressing your skin delicately, while the other was placed on your hip to help you move up before you started sliding down his cock.

It started at a normal pace, getting used to that new position and angle. Your hand rested on his lower belly, while the other reached for his arm for some stability. San needed more of it though, he needed to feel completely connected to you in every aspect. His arm moved under your grip, and next you knew his hand was holding yours tightly as you started bouncing on top of him.

Sense started to vanish as your whole body started moving. Having the curves of your body on full display, as you took control of his pleasure made him feel in a way he couldn't explain. Your tits bounced in sync with your movements, instantly making him aware of the thin coat of weat that started to cover you after a few minutes.

You got a short break after your legs started feeling sore, only rocking your hips back and forwards. It was a moment you both used to tease each other, linking your eyes and tempting with your smirks, proud that the other was just as lost in the feeling as the other.

The only moment you let go of his hand was to lean over him, targeting his lips for a long kiss that added passion to the sudden arrhythmic movements of your hips. You took him in completely again, gasping against his mouth while he moved your hair back to be able to look at your face. And you were thankful to him for doing that, because you loved seeing the way his face distorted when you moved back up, clenching your walls around his tip before you moved back down.

"Shit, babe. Do that again" he asked with a needy voice.

You repeated the same movement. You actually did it a few more times, while your tongue traced his marked jaw and your lips sucked on the freckles on his neck.

The teasing wasn't enough, you needed more. That was why you moved back up again, with both hands on his stomach while he held you tight by your thighs and hips. You started jumping on him, feeling his cock pull in and out with your moves, drunk by pleasure and addicted how you had that big man moaning and digging his nails on your flesh out of desperation.

"Please" he moaned out loud, and you didn't need him to say or do much more to know what he meant.

You didn't change the pace, you didn't change the angle or position. And although your legs were close to giving up, you still bounced like both of your lives depended on it. One stroke, two strokes... and he was gone. His cock twitched deep inside you as he spilled his warm seed with a loud moan.

Your movements didn't stop there though. You went back to the resting position, still feeling him hard deep in your guts, before you went back to bouncing back and forwards, but a lot faster that time and trying to be as glued to his body as possible. The room was soon filled with those wet noises that came from your pussy as you rocked your hips, mixed with the short but more frequent moans that escaped your lips by the friction of his cock on your walls and the feeling of his cum dripping down your cunt to his cock. San also helped you, positioning his hands firmly on your hips so you'd be able to get your clit to rub against his crotch and give you that little push you needed.

Your body collapsed on top of him as that last orgasm nearly ruined you. You stayed like that for a while, trying to recover as you caressed the other. San's fingers moved up and down your sweaty spine, while your tips traced his collarbone.

"Where did you learn to do that thing with your...?"

"Fanfics" you snorted.

"Hmm" he hummed, pretending he was thinking about it. "Maybe I should start reading them, what's your user?".

"Please don't" you giggled, suddenly lifting your head to look at him, moving your hands on each side of his head on the bed. "If you do start reading them, avoid mine".

Ever since he had known about that side of you, he had become more interested in knowing about it. And you wouldn't really mind... If you weren't deadly embarrassed over the idea of having your boyfriend reading about such detailed and weird ideas.

"You have no idea how lucky I feel to have you" he added with a more serious tone.

"I feel so lucky, too" your hands slowly moved over the pillow, until you were back at cupping his face. "Every single day. All the time. I'm thankful to be with you. And I'm not saying this because I was, and am, a fan..:"

"I know" he quickly nodded.

He remembered how nervous you actually were when you first told him about it, because you wanted him to know and choose whether to go on with the relationship. You understood he could've been creeped out over it, or even think that possibly what you felt wasn't genuine, but a cause of infatuation. But he knew it that same night. You took the time to spend quality time with him, to get to know him; and he was down bad for the beautiful person you were in and out.

Honestly, San even felt relief when you told him you were a fan and that he was your bias.

"You're really important to me" you squeezed his cheeks, making him smile at the moment.

"Let's go clean, shall we?" San suggested.

When he left the bathroom earlier after you cleaned, you thought he'd make his way to the bed. But when you stepped out, he wasn't there and neither were his clothes. Frowning, you put a pair of clean panties on and his hoodie back again.

As you stepped out of the room, you could see your boyfriend's smile in the dark, just to be lighted by the candle on the cake as soon as he was aware of your presence.

You stepped towards him as he sang the happy birthday song to you, moving the cake forward to your face as the song came to an end so you could blow the candles.

You didn't want that to ever end. That was your only wish.

"Grab a spoon. Let's eat some" he said, leaving the cake back on the table before he sat next to you.

It was a comfortable silence. The type of silence that made you sure you were with the right person. No pressure, no worries. It was just him and his company, and you thought that would be enough to solve all the problems that could come in your direction.

"Like I told you, they offered me the promotion" you suddenly said.

"Oh yes. What happened to that? What did your boss tell you?" his eyebrows lifted in surprise, while his lips curved up in excitement.

"He said I was the first person he thought of as soon as the opportunity showed up. And they gave me some time to think about my answer" you scooped your spoon in the cake to get another bite.

"Are you playing hard to get?" his tone sounded funny.

And it probably would've made you smile if you didn't know the reason why you agreed on thinking about it for a while.

"It's in the States".

You could feel his mood suddenly changing. That smile that you were able to feel disappeared, his leg stopped moving. He was completely freezed.

"Apparently they don't have vacancies in Seoul for the position I'd be promoted to, but they need someone to fill the vacancy in the headquarters in the US".

That knot in your throat showed up again, giving you a hard time not to start crying when you were aware of his concerned expression.

Earlier that evening, you were thankful San sent a text telling you he wouldn't make it to the dinner. You knew you wouldn't have been able to hide that for long, and it'd probably have ruined the mood he wanted to create for your birthday.

You were in a delicate situation. It didn't matter what you chose, neither of the options gave you the chance to stay in Seoul. If you rejected the offer, you'd only postpone moving out a few months, at least until your contract expired. And there was a small chance they'd renew it for the position you were doing then, and stay in Korea for a little longer. But also, if you took the offer, there was always the possibility to come back to that new position as soon as there was a vacancy.

Your head was back at the mess it was hours back.

"Can I give you my opinion?" he whispered.

You quickly nodded, just wanting to hug him and make the sadness that was coming out of his eyes disappear.

"You took the courses to form yourself for the position, you have the experience and the talent. You should take the offer".

Of course San said that. He had been the first one encouraging you to do what you wanted to do. He had also been your first support when you had breakdowns because you thought you were stagnant professionally wise.

He was your main supporter.

San's first thought, when you told him where the job was, was how he'd be able to survive having you so far away from him. His heart was starting to ache just with the idea. But of course he wouldn't ever show how hurt he could be about that, or how it affected him, because he didn't want to be the reason you gave up on something you worked so much for. He just couldn't show any hint of his pain, because he knew it'd affect your choice. The fact that you came up to him with the doubt, instead of coming with the decision, was enough evidence that his opinion was as important as yours on the matter.

"I don't want to be so far" your voice trembled with those final words.

San quickly dragged his chair closer to yours, wrapping his arms around you to hug you tight.

"I'll be with you wherever you are" he assured. "I promise there will be no difference. We'll have video calls every day, we'll text all the time. And I'll go to see you every time I have the chance. We will make it work".

It was such a bittersweet feeling. You were encouraged by his words, endeared by how he was willing to fight for your relationship even if you were away. But it was such an awful feeling that he had to say that because of something that involved you and that, at the same time, was out of your control. 

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: what is changing in your life this season?

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: how can i present myself in the best way possible?

masterlist of pap/pac posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

pile 1

you might be meeting someone new who brings a fresh perspective or emotional depth into your life; it could be a friend, partner, and/or mentor. this is also a great time to start a new artistic endeavor; painting, writing, or crafting, which will allow you to express yourself in unexpected ways. personal growth can occur through these activities as well as they aid with introspection or therapy, leading to a better understanding of your own feelings and needs. engaging in and/or receiving unexpected acts of kindness that uplift your spirits and encourage you to connect more deeply with others will greatly benefit you this season. receiving and/or giving thoughtful and heartfelt gestures in a romantic relationship will deepen emotional bonds. that being said addressing and healing past emotional wounds is critical, this will lead to a renewed sense of peace and emotional clarity.

there might be a new opportunity for growth in your career/investments. prioritize your self-care and personal well-being this season; perhaps through adopting healthier habits and/or finding more balance in your life. don't shy away from practical advice that will help you manage everyday responsibilities more effectively. you could experience increased productivity in your work and/or personal life; which could be supported by your increased organization and focus this season.

you are likely to find yourself making quick decisions and/or decisively acting to pursue your goals, even if it means facing challenges head-on. make sure you are engaging in stimulating conversations or debates, where sharp thinking and clear communication are crucial. this will help you make the correct decision for you long term. also make sure you are using your logic and analytical skills to cut through confusion and to help you solve problems efficiently. it is time to address conflicts or misunderstandings directly.

pile 2

you may experience unexpected expenses, find it hard to save money, and/or face a temporary loss of income. make budgeting and financial planning your focus starting now. as there could be delays or obstacles in your career, such as a promotion being postponed, a job offer falling through, or feeling unmotivated/uninspired at work. minor health issues or feeling physically drained could arise; you need to pay more attention to your well-being, diet, and/or exercise routines. you may find it difficult to concentrate on tasks which leads to unfinished work and/or feeling scattered. your investments (financial or otherwise) may not yield the expected returns, causing you to rethink where you’re putting your resources (and time) in to. you could be questioning what’s truly important to you, leading to a shift in how you view success, happiness, and/or stability.

you may feel trapped in a situation (relationship and/or job) without a clear way out. which could lead to frustration or a sense of helplessness because you’re unsure how to move forward. is it the universe or you? it might just be you who is resisting necessary changes; holding onto the familiar out of fear of the unknown (even if it’s not in your best interest). otherwise, instead of taking the time to think things through, you might make hasty decisions that lead to you feeling as sense of regret. you could find yourself holding onto past hurts, grudges, and/or regrets, which prevent you from moving forward with a clear and open mind.

you might feel like you’re not making progress, even though you’ve put in a lot of effort. there’s a sense of being stuck or not being able to move on to the next phase of your life. i feel like it is unresolved issues or "loose ends" that need your attention before you can truly move forward. this could involve past relationships, projects, and/or personal matters that require closure. it may be a struggle to find closure in certain situations, whether it’s ending a relationship, leaving a job, and/or moving on from a past experience. this lack of closure can prevent you from fully embracing new opportunities. there is a sense of disconnection from others and/or from your sense of purpose. there could be a feeling of isolation / lack of harmony in your relationships or within yourself. the time is now to wrap things up or learn better coping mechanisms.

pile 3

you may find yourself managing multiple priorities or projects - prepare yourself mentally for taking more on. life may throw some curveballs your way; you will be required to adapt quickly. go with the flow and handle changes with grace - this will be essential. budgeting and/or managing money might be a key focus for you this season as well. you need to organize your time better to accommodate all of your commitments, both personal and professional.

projects and/or plans that you hoped would move forward might encounter unexpected setbacks. which could lead to frustration and/or a feeling that things are not progressing as you thought they would. you might struggle to see the bigger picture, causing you to hyper-focus on immediate problems and not the long-term. which could pigeon hole you or decrease your opportunities upcoming. now is a good time to re-evaluate your current goals and/or strategies. rethink which direction you want to head to ensure it aligns with your true desires and capabilities. also this season there may be issues with teamwork and/or "your cooperation". misunderstandings and/or a lack of support from others is likely.

otherwise, there is something worth celebration happening for you this season; whether it’s a party, a reunion, or any event that brings your people together. enjoy the company of friends and loved ones - celebrate your achievements and/or special occasions this season. your social circle and friendships are going to be more important than ever this season. you might find yourself relying on your friends for support or just enjoying each others company. reminder: you don’t have to go through things alone; there are people who care about you and are willing to help.

[astropookie]

synastry/composite chart observations not the type you wanted though 😝

joann sfar

synastry

⚘ I’ve noticed every friendship I’ve that ended up other me cutting them out had their Chiron on my 12H. could mean searching for your path, like taking conscious for what direction their friendship is going.

⚘ I have a twin and we have the same birth chart: our synastry is horrible. jk but there’s a lot of conjunctions -exact positions-, conjunctions are not always ideal, a lot less when it’s in excess. not if you’re searching for a deep relationship. there’s a lot of boredom and conflict. for example, ascendant conjunction ascendant can bring superficiality and from one part trying to be peaceful, without expressing themselves truthfully, delivering to boredom from both parts.

⚘ venus opposition moon: venus can feel the moon is too distant, as if they have wall in front of them. the way venus wish the moon shows their love and care for them is not as they expected. venus has to somehow try to understand -if they want the relationship to advance- not everyone shows love the same way. also moon needs to exteriorize or help the moon: not only venus to do all the work.

⚘ their lilith (mean) on 12H means the lilith person embrace what 12H represents on the house persons's life. their spirituality, their subconscious. to be more in tune with it. for example, ik two people with this synastry and the lilith person is very spiritual, they even have payed for medium sessions for the house person -doesn’t have to be that specific, spirituality can be expressed in different ways-.

composite

𑁍 the ascendant says a lot in a composite chart, it’s the vibe, how they unfold between each other. for example, if the ascendant is in aquarius, while time passes, they learn to enjoy and embrace the goofiness of each other, they spend a good time and are comfortable with each other.

𑁍 also, the degree of the ascendant it’s important. it explains how they react to things in general, how they solve their problems in pair. for example, if there’s aries degree, it says that there’s a part of individuality here, aries reminds me of someone who can get carried away by their impulses and leadership traits, they want to do their thing, on their own. one of the pair it’s feeling left out in some kinda way. not saying all the time but in a specific topic, there’s more information if you between the dots reading the chart.

𑁍 jupiter conjunction venus tells in this relationship they can bring positivity and joy between each other, they help each other to get out of hard/emo times. they could have survived together from different groups.

𑁍 10H stellium can tell they share the same vision, goal drive. the both of them are focused on their careers and success, they agree that’s first on their life.

𑁍 saturn square neptune 1° orb: there’s tension between focusing on what’s necessary and what’s what they want, their dreams or main goals can be postponed or realized later on life, together. lack of discipline?

𑁍 north node opposition saturn: they’re meant to have difficulties with understanding the order of the other, their attitude towards authorities, their goals, their ethics are different.

𑁍 taurus 11H stellium can tell this relationship is build by the same values and it’s more likely to be a friendship than another type of relationship. they’re more conservative and protective of each other, I’ve also noticed they’re able to give each other space when the other needs it or to not be too persistent between each other. also they can gossip A LOT. they can literally see each other just for the yap.

𑁍 chiron square mars 0° orb: there are issues to being direct in what they’re annoyed, to fight and to not escape, they probably want to be in peace and focus on it, not remembering that treating the problem together can be more beneficial. the orb makes an emphasis. while time passes, they’re meant to reach balance, in other words, to learn from this and take action.

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა ∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗ */ᐠ - ˕ -マ✩ (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)∗ ࣪

♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

[praisethegabs]

B.D.S.M

Leon Kennedy x F!Mistress!Reader

synopsis: leon has a guilty pleasure, which is a deep secret no one knows. every time after a stressful mission, leon goes to this particular place to release his tension. you're too familiar with the man, already knowing what he loves. he's your favorite customer. you're his favorite mistress.

warnings: PURE SMUT. bdsm on its edge. degradation kink, praise kink, shibari, use of pet names, sex toys, sub!leon and dom!reader, handjob, edging, spanking, gaging, spanking, flogging, role-playing.

word count: 3735k

a/n: sub!leon always comes to my mind for unknown reasons. he's so fucking cute and awkward. sometimes, I don't see him as the dominant one, I think he's more of a switch. anyway, I wrote this bc I thought it would be funny to change sides (since the last smut I wrote was with dom!leon)

Leon's footsteps echoed through the corridor as he made his way back home. His mind was still reeling from the stress of the mission he had just completed. The weight of the world seemed to press down on his shoulders, and he yearned for a way to escape the constant tension that plagued him.

It was almost three in the morning, but he didn't care. Due to the nature of his job, Leon had a highly irregular schedule. His timing was inconsistent, and he did not have a set time to return home. It could be morning, afternoon, evening, or the middle of the night. Although his busy schedule demanded most of his time, Leon still had something that couldn't be postponed.

As he entered his apartment, he casually threw his leather jacket onto a chair and ran his hand through his tousled hair. The peaceful solitude of his home only intensified the profound loneliness that had settled deep within him. He needed a release, a way to forget the horrors he had witnessed. With a sigh, he reached for his phone and dialed a number that he had carefully stored in his contacts. The screen lit up, and he waited for it to ring. He felt a mixture of anticipation and relief when the call was answered.

"Hello," a sultry voice purred on the other end of the line. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Leon's voice was filled with a mixture of longing and vulnerability as he replied, "I need to see you, Mistress."

A wicked smile played on your lips as you spoke on the other end of the line. "Of course, darling. I have just the thing to help you forget about your troubles. How soon can you come to my dungeon?"

Leon quickly checked his schedule. "I can be there in an hour," he replied.

"Perfect," you purred. "Prepare yourself and don't keep me waiting. We have much to explore, and I promise you that by the time we're done, all your worries will be left far behind."

As the call ended, Leon felt a renewed sense of anticipation and excitement. Your dungeon provides a sanctuary from the outside world, a place where he can relinquish control and seek solace in the pain and pleasure you provide. It was his escape, a way to let go of the burden he carried, if only for a few precious hours.

As Leon sipped a glass of wine, he gazed out of the window, his thoughts in turmoil. His work demanded discipline, control, and unwavering focus. Yet, it was in the realm of submission and surrender that he found the release he craved - an escape from the relentless pressure of his responsibilities.

Leon had always been a man of contradictions, and his desire for you was no exception. He wondered if his fascination with you was a reflection of his own internal struggles, a means to delve into the depths of his own desires and vulnerabilities. Guilt gnawed at him as he thought about the secrets he kept and the double life he led.

But as he replayed the memories of their encounters in his mind, he couldn't deny the intoxicating allure of your power and the blissful release it provided. It was a guilty pleasure he couldn't resist, a secret aspect of his life that provided him with a sense of liberation he couldn't find anywhere else.

You knew absolutely nothing about Leon, except for his preferences.

He always liked the rough style. As a skilled dominatrix, you know how to please a man. Since he discovered you, he has requested to become your exclusive client, and the payment he has provided is sufficient to reserve your availability exclusively for him. Fortunately, you were familiar with his schedule, so you began working mostly at night, which suited him perfectly.

You have set up an entire dungeon in your basement. It was the perfect place to meet his needs exactly as he wanted it.

At first, seeing his physique made you think he would be a great dominant. However, you eventually found out that he was more of a submissive man. Completely bent over your knees, ready to obey your commands without hesitation. Most dungeons do not permit sexual intercourse between dominants and submissives, but for him, this dynamic does not adhere to such restrictions. Since you have a dungeon in your own home, you have decided to make some slight modifications to the rules.

Obviously, you have never had sex with him, but other aspects of your relationship work just fine.

Leon's footsteps echoed through the garden as he made his way towards the entrance of his hidden sanctuary. Each step was a solemn reminder of the mission that had just been concluded. The scent of leather and candle wax hung in the air, familiar and comforting. He pushed open the unassuming door at the end of the hallway, revealing a hidden secret world beyond.

The dungeon served as a sanctuary for him, a place where he could escape the burdens of his perilous existence. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting, and there you were, dressed in black leather, waiting for him in the center of the room. Your presence commands attention; your aura is a captivating blend of power and sensuality.

"Welcome back, Kennedy," you purred, your lips curling into a mischievous grin. "You're not late; you arrived just in time."

Leon's tense shoulders relaxed as he stepped further into the dungeon, the door clicking shut behind him. He locked eyes with you, and a silent understanding passed between the two of you. He shed his jacket, the leather creaking as he tossed it aside, revealing the tension that had built up in his muscles during the mission.

You moved towards him, the sound of your heels clicking against the cold stone floor, with a devious glint in your eyes. "You look like you've had a rough day, my dear," you said, as your fingers lightly traced the contours of his jaw. "But, you know, I'm here to take care of you."

"Yes, Mistress," he nodded, closing his eyes to savor your touch and emitting a slight moan.

"Strip now," you ordered him, and stepped back to prepare the rest of the room and your toys.

The words were both a promise and a command, and Leon nodded in agreement. He needed this - the sensation of control slipping away from his grasp, the catharsis of pain and pleasure intertwined. You led him to the St. Andrew's Cross, a symbol of his shared desire for submission and domination.

With practiced ease, you secured his wrists and ankles to the cross, using leather restraints to keep him in place. Leon's heart raced, his mind focused solely on the anticipation of what would come next. The room seemed to shrink, closing in around him, leaving only the two of them and the palpable tension in the air.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his earlobe. "What would you like today, darling?" You whispered, asking your question.

"Take me to the edge, Mistress," Leon said, gazing at you with unwavering confidence.

"Very well," you nodded in agreement. "Remember the safe word, just in case."

Leon nodded once more and prepared himself for what was about to begin. He was waiting for the first strike to experience pleasure, but nothing happened. His eyes met yours, and he felt a shiver down his spine when he noticed the smile on your face.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" You approached him seductively, holding a flogger in your hands, your nails digging into his flesh.

"I forgot my collar, Mistress," he said, his breath heavy with the sudden realization that he had forgotten the only item he was permitted to wear. "I'm sorry, Mistress."

"Oh, bunny, you know we don't accept apologies," you said, biting his earlobe. "And do you know what this means?"

Leon nodded, biting his lip. He felt the first whip strike him hard, causing him to emit a loud moan. He tightly grips the leather restraints on his wrists, and the second blow leaves a red mark on his stomach. The third strike narrowly missed his cock and you can see him trembling as each blow compels him to seek relief from the agony of your flogging.

"Please, Mistress, forgive me," Leon begs, as you continue to flog him. Another strike, another groan.

"Have you learned your lesson, bunny?" You asked, delivering another whip to him, striking harder.

“Yes, Mistress. I did” Leon almost yelled, trying helplessly to avoid your strikes. His body was already red from the flogging. "Please, I won't forget it anymore."

You stopped, letting the flog aside. You took a leather collar from the drawer and placed it around his neck. His breath was heavy, and his entire body was shaking. He was indeed enjoying the anticipation of the punishment, although he had no idea what was about to happen. You untied him from the St. Andrews Cross, and he stood there, waiting for your next command.

"Stand in the center of the room," you commanded, holding a remote. He nods, walking with his naked, red body to the center of the dungeon.

You threw a silver spreader bar in his direction, and you didn't have to say it twice. Leon secured his ankles in the spreader bar, and once he was done, he glanced at you again. Silently, you pressed the button and then shackled his wrists to a drop-down ceiling bar. Pressing the button again, he stretched his arms in the air. The bondage dungeon is filled with furniture that enables you to attach him to any object in whichever manner you please.

Now he stands completely naked, with his ankles spread apart by a spreader bar and his arms stretched in the air, wearing nothing but his collar.

You stand before him, wearing a devilish smile on your lips. Suddenly, you firmly grasp his erect penis and apply pressure. You can see tears welling up in his sapphire-blue eyes as he bites his lip and tightly grips the shackles above his head. You squeeze it harder, and he gasps, yelping in pain. You paused for a moment, observing him. Another intense squeeze, another wave of pain, and he screams out loud. You finally release his cock and he exhales with relief, tears still streaming down his cheek.

"You're nothing but a sex toy. Look at you, so miserable," you said, as you walked around him and slapped his ass. "Such a naughty boy, desperate to be humiliated, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," his voice trembles as you slap his ass.

"Your purpose is to provide fuckings, am I right?" You asked again, delivering another slap to him, causing his body to jerk.

"Yes, Mistress," Leon nods again, his body jerking with each slap against his sensitive skin.

"Who owns you, fuckboy?" You stepped closer, gripping his hair firmly, causing him to emit a soft groan.

"You do, Mistress," he quickly replies, his Adam's apple bobbing rapidly up and down.

"Do I own your cock as well?" You asked again, leaving love bites on his skin.

"Yes, Mistress, you do."

You take his cock again, smacking it harder and making him yelp again. Tears were already rolling down his cheeks once more. You walk to your box of instruments and retrieve the manuscript clips. You take one clamp, gently open it, and place it over his left nipple. Carefully close the clamp, ensuring that it does not cause any pain. He tries to hold his breath and keep his mouth shut while you repeat the same process on his right nipple.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll bear it all night," you wink at him, and he nods silently.

Then, your hand reached his cock again and you started to masturbate him. You can see his hands tightly gripping the shackles, and his breath growing heavier with each passing second. Leon began moaning, with each moan growing louder as you continued to stimulate him with your hands. And you keep masturbating him until you know he's close.

And then, you come to a complete stop, causing him to whine out loud.

"Bad boys don't get rewarded," you said, and pressed the button to lower the ceiling bar. "Kneel."

He obeys by kneeling down. The ceiling is high enough for him to stretch his arms in the air, and you are sitting directly in front of him. You don't have to say anything; he already knows what to do. Leon crawls between your legs and opens his mouth. He bends forward, his arms stretching upward before him. The restraints are not sufficient to allow him to approach you, and observing him beg for your pussy amuses you.

"Please, Mistress, allow me to pleasure you in my mouth” he begs, his voice filled with desperation as he fights back tears, inching closer to you.

His cock twitches and aches. He's desperate to be released, to ejaculate all over his body, longing to feel your touch. You keep teasing him by not allowing him to get closer to you, making him see your wide pussy open in front of him, yet denying him the ability to touch or engage with you.

"Please, I'm begging, Mistress," he pleads again, desperately trying to reach you.

"Such a pathetic, whining boy," you said, tightly gripping his jaw in your hands.

You released his wrists and ankles, instructing him to walk towards the bondage horse. He silently obeys you and walks straight to the corner of the room. With red ropes, you tied his arms and hands behind his back. Its shape is that of a half barrel with wide ledges and wings, covered in black leather. Leon positions his knees on each wing, and you proceed to shackle him once more, ensuring that he is securely locked on the edge of the frame. His collar is attached by chains on both sides to the ceiling bar, keeping his head up and facing forward.

"What do you deserve?" you ask, as you walk around the room and pick up your flogger once more.

"To be punished, Mistress," he responds, his eyes locked on the wall in front of him.

"Why?" you asked before striking him hard.

"Because I am a bad man," Leon says, his body jerking again with the whimpering.

You smiled, satisfied, and started to whip him until his entire back was red. When you're done with his back, you move to face him, squeezing his cock again. Leon is on the verge of tears, gasping and unable to control himself. In an instant, without your command, he ejaculates onto your hand. His entire face turns red.

"Did I say you could cum?" you asked him, squeezing his sensitive cock, causing him to whine in pain once more.

"No, Mistress. I'm sorry," he begs, tears falling down his face once more.

"Privilege revoked," you hissed, walking towards your torment box. Leon is visually impaired, but he sheds tears when he senses something cold around his cock. He knows what it is. "You'll come only when I say so."

You walk back to the corner of the room after locking the chastity cage on him. When you return, Leon flinches slightly as he feels your thumb pressing against him from behind. You uses oil and you're smearing it around his anus. A finger slips, then your thumb. Another finger, he already knows what's coming.

He feels the rubber sliding inside, and he moans again. He feels the initial pain, but he's okay with it. You slide it further, allowing the oil to lubricate him internally. You pull back the toy and gently begin a rhythmic back-and-forth fucking of his ass. You have precision and an obvious regular rhythm. Leon moans, closing his eyes and feeling the helplessness of his submission. You insert the toy into him, and he can hear you pressing a button.

It starts to vibrate inside his hole.

To keep him quiet, you place a ball gag in his mouth and leave him in his current state. He is tormented by a dildo in his anus, restrained by shackles and ropes, rendering him unable to move, resist, or voice any complaints. You sit, playing with the remote control of the device in your hands, adjusting the intensity to elicit either loud moans or soft whines from him.

The cock cage on him is painful, and he is aware of it. With his already aroused state, it becomes nearly impossible for him to cum without your consent, and he is aware that this is precisely what you desire. He is unable to move, but the vibration in his ass makes his flesh to ripple. It makes him shake his body. Leon moans again, whether from the pain caused by the cage or the vibration inside his ass. He shakes his head, the only movement he can make.

You press the button, and he sighs with relief, but not completely. You pump him again a few times and stop. You thrust into him quickly and forcefully, causing him to groan and moan. After some time, there is a final push, a powerful thrust that is enough to rock the bondage horse. He moans aloud again. You walk around the corner again and gently push something metallic, cold, and smooth inside his ass. Leon feels the object and thinks it's large, expanding inside him. Then, it pops in, causing a painful stretch that makes him scream again.

"Clean it," you tell him, pointing to his white semen on the leather bondage material. You unshackle his collar from the ceiling bar and his ankles from the restraints, but keep his arms tied with the ropes.

He obediently leans over from his waist until his tongue reaches the black leather. He licks it in wide swaths, gathering all his juices from his previous unauthorized release, leaving only his saliva behind.

You can see the color of his cock. He's so hard and sensitive. When Leon finishes cleaning the bondage horse, he kneels in front of you, waiting patiently. He is clearly struggling to hold back his orgasm, but at the same time, he is on the brink of climax.

"Desperate to cum, huh?” you teased, gently stimulating his sensitive nipples, eliciting another groan from him.

"Yes, Mistress," he says, his voice shaking once more.

You sat in an armchair in front of him, your legs spread apart, offering a tantalizing view of your glistening arousal. He doesn't move, but when he sees you nod, he knows what to do. He leans closer, and you can feel his tongue on your wet, sensitive, and swollen clit. He sucks you, savoring your taste, and moaning from the pleasure mixed with the slight pain he feels on his cock. You moan and grip his hair tightly, urging him to continue sucking you.

And when you reach your orgasm, Leon has to force himself to calm down, feeling your cunt on his face. His cock is hurting and you decide to please him in the appropriate manner.

“Color” you ask him, playfully tweaking his nipple.

"Green, Mistress," he says, trembling. He's lying.

"What color is it, bunny?" you asked him again, gripping the metal of his collar.

"Yellow, Mistress," Leon shakes. The pain in his cock is excruciating.

You released his cock from the cage, and he sighed with relief, only to gasp at your touch. He was very sensitive, and you started to masturbate him again. You took your magic wand and placed it under his dick, vibrating with intense power, while your other hand moved up and down on him. Leon can't last long. He's already too close to reaching orgasm. You, on the other hand, don't care. You continue to deliberate, his rhythm becoming tense.

"Go on, be a good boy and cum for your Mistress," you said, increasing your pace on him.

The words are enough. It emanates from his core and bursts out. His thighs and red belly shuddered first, as if he were being electrocuted. Then, it surged upward, causing his entire chest to shake as he let out a guttural moan, a mixture of pain and pleasure. Afterward, you removed the clips from his nipples, and he yelped and cried again. You also removed the plug from his anus, leaving it elsewhere.

Now, you have him standing at the end of the bondage horse again, and you instruct him to bend over and protrude his ass out. You tied him with the red ropes in a different manner, and he obeys you. This time, you take a flogger to his ass, almost caressing his cheeks with its sleek leather strands. Then, it comes out of nowhere.

The brutal spank of the cane striking his ass. He screams.

You cane him again, this time on his right ass cheek. He screams again and sobs. The third strike goes again. Leon yells.

You guide him to a nearby mirror and compel him to observe the three red marks on his ass.

He's crying. You had successfully led him to his edge, but you knew when to stop. You removed the gag from his mouth and untied the ropes that had left his arms almost purple. Then, you placed a robe on him. Aftercare is important, even in this type of situation.

"Are you okay?" you asked, leading him to the sofa in the opposite corner. "I know you wanted to be on the edge, but this is dangerous. Did something happen?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Leon says softly, although his entire body is in pain. "Just... don't worry, okay? I like it when you get rough with me."

"I'm not complaining, but are you sure you're okay?" you asked, embracing him and allowing his head to rest on your chest.

"I'm fine, trust me," he chuckles.

There is a moment of silence. Usually, he doesn't stay for aftercare. He gets what he wants and then leaves, but there's something different this time. You don't say anything, you decide to give him some space. This night was heavily different from the others, and you're not sure he's really alright.

“Can we do it again?” He lifts his head so he can see you. “But this time, can you blindfold me?”

You smirk. It's time for another round. 

[ellieputellas]

if you’d have stuck around | elisa de almeida x reader

Years have passed since you last saw Elisa. Now, you are settled in California with a budding writing career and a new girlfriend. But, fate didn’t seem to be done with you and Elisa

tags: angst, past relationship, exes that haven’t seen each other in years, slow burn (?), forbidden pining, just a lot of unresolved issues tbh

part one | part two | part three

part one.

and the funny thing is, i would have married you if you'd have stuck around — doomsday - lizzy mcalpine

For the first time in years, your heart skipped a beat.

It felt like a movie. Your heartbeat paused for a second, then it was all you could hear—a rhythmic pounding in your ear, drowning out all other noise. Everything else was blurry, and all you could focus on was her.

She was laughing, tilting her head back and exposing her perfect smile and the lines around her eyes you loved so much. She ran her hand through her hair, which wasn’t styled much differently than it was when you were younger; it was just more grown-up. She looked better than she ever did.

The lump in your throat grew, and, weirdly, you felt tears burn your eyes, threatening to fall. You blinked and quickly wiped the lone tear that dared to drip down your cheek.

It had been five years since you last saw Elisa.

You still remembered how it all fell apart. You remembered the tears and heartbreak that came with your parting. You remembered the shouting, the arguments, the pain… like it was yesterday.

You didn’t even remember how the fight began. You thought it might have started when you expressed jealousy over her teammate, or maybe it was her complaining about how you spent too much time with your extracurriculars.

Damn, it might have even been just about postponing a date. All you could remember now was that it was a petty argument that opened up a whole can of worms. It spiraled and branched out into different arguments—never spending time together, not communicating, not prioritizing the relationship at all, hiding the relationship from everyone—but it was one question that started the end of it all.

“Five years from now, where do you even see yourself, Elisa?” “W-what do you mean?” “Answer.” “What kind of question is that?” You remembered the exasperation in her voice. “Tell me.” “Fuck, I don’t know. Playing for a major league, traveling the world and competing against the best teams, maybe even playing in the Olympics,” she rambled.

“I don’t know what exactly I want, but I know for sure that I want to make a name for myself. I need to. I know everything will be okay once I do that.” “That’s it?” you asked. “H-huh?” She looked irritated. “What else matters aside from that? What do you want me to do? Give you a five-year plan? “I… is that all that matters, Elisa?” you asked. She paused and ran a hand through her hair, looking annoyed. “What else matters?” Your voice cracked, and your lip quivered. “I just…” You couldn’t hold back the tears. “You didn’t even mention me.”

Now, your tears were definitely forming into thick beads, threatening to spill out.

And that’s when you locked eyes.

You could see her face tense up instantly. Elisa blinked twice in disbelief, and her jaw stiffened. She parted her lips as if to say something, as if you could hear each other with the distance between you in this noisy and busy hotel lobby.

You looked away.

“Hey, are you okay?” Suddenly, you were brought back to reality. You looked up to see your co-worker and girlfriend, Casey. She smiled at you sweetly and pushed a stray hair from your face. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

You blinked, suddenly remembering what you were here for. You and Casey were sent to this hotel to interview some football players for the media company you worked for. The person originally assigned to this slipped and broke a wrist this morning, so you were the last-minute replacement.

Your boss (and Casey’s dad) had found out about how you went to a few football summer camps back in France as a teenager and decided that was good enough for you to cover this story.

You went, not thinking much about it; just another day’s worth of work. Besides, you were used to showing up to the job last minute with no prior briefing. But who would have thought that it would be her team?

If you had just known that the team you would be interviewing was Paris Saint-Germain, you would have slipped and attempted to break a bone too.

“I don’t feel so good, babe,” you lied. “I might be feverish.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Huh? You look fine to me.” She pressed the back of her hand to your forehead. “You’re not warm at all either.”

Your eyes darted quickly to Elisa, who was with her team sorting their bags. She had her eyes stuck on you. You looked down at the floor again, careful not to lock eyes with her again.

“The team manager knew my dad back in the day and asked us to do a fun feature just for the team to get exposure here; capitalize on the whole women’s soccer rise here,” Casey said. She noticed you looking down at your feet. “You good?”

You looked at her with a smile. “Yes, yes, I guess I’m just dizzy.”

She smiled. “It’s just a fluff piece. You’ll be fine,” she said. “We’ll be in and out in 20 minutes. Besides, you might know some of these girls. Maybe they went to the same camps you did back in France. Fun walk down memory lane, yeah?”

If only she knew.

The next moments passed by in a flurry. Your team set up a makeshift shooting studio in one of the conference rooms. You had the props all set up and the scripts ready.

The social media producer, Gina, reminded you that only a handful of players could join as the others would be doing a different press interview with a sports magazine. You let out a deep breath.

“Okay, so, give them these whiteboards to write on. It’s just the typical ‘who’s more likely to’ content,” Gina said as she handed you the script and whiteboards. “I’ll brief them, but please translate if needed. Later, you’ll be off camera, but I’d still like you to read out each prompt loud enough just so the editor can hear it and won’t struggle in editing. All good?”

You bit your lip and nodded. “Can I know who the players are?”

“I think we requested mostly the English-speaking ones because we told their manager that we didn’t have a translator with us initially, but some of these sound hella French, so I trust you’ll manage.” The producer looked down at the chart. “Let’s see… Earps, Alberts—oh, I know her—uh… Groenen, Geyoro… yup!”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “That’s it? Just them?” You felt a tad relieved.

Gina nodded. “Yeah, I think the other players will be doing another interview,” she said as she looked through the list again. “I hope these are all the English-speaking ones because putting on translated subs would be a pain in the ass for the editor.”

You hummed in response and sighed. You didn’t know why, but aside from feeling relieved, you felt mildly disappointed. You’d told yourself several times that you never wanted to see Elisa ever again, but a part of you was just… curious.

Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, making you jump. You looked behind you to see your girlfriend, Casey. “Oh, it’s you,” you sighed.

She chuckled. “Of course, it’s me.” She smiled at you, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Who else would it be?”

You stayed silent, unmoving.

She laughed and started playfully rocking you from side to side as she rested her head on your shoulder. “I just figured you needed a hug because you looked so tense and nervous,” she said in a low voice, so Gina and the other couple of crew members with you wouldn’t hear. “You good, babe?”

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I just… feel nervous talking to these footballers. They’re pretty famous, y’know.”

She hummed. “I’m glad you’re here then. I don’t know shit about soccer,” she joked. “Why don’t you make me watch a game of, uh, Paris Saint-Germain, and I’ll give you a kiss every time they score or something?”

Your nerves started to dissipate as your girlfriend flirted with you more. She always knew how to calm your nerves. You reminded yourself to relax and not be so tense. Elisa wasn’t in your panel to be interviewed; there was no reason to worry about seeing her again.

“Pack up the PDA, you two,” Gina scolded. “The soccer girls will be here soon since we gave them a heads-up. No more kissy-kissy face once they’re here, or I’m telling your father.”

Casey chuckled at the older producer and gave her a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am,” she smiled. She turned to you. “One last kiss on the cheek before we behave?”

You chuckled and planted a kiss on her jaw, leaving a lipstick mark. You giggled as you tried to rub it off, struggling to get most of it off. “Oh no, if they see this, they’ll think we’re so unprofessional.”

“No way, they’re French. They’ll get it.” Casey gave you one last wink before putting on her headset and heading to the other crew guys who were setting up the lights and camera.

You looked through the script one more time as if it was worth reviewing; it was all pretty basic. Moments later, you heard the door open, and you could tell the group arrived by the loud chattering and chuckling.

All English chattering, you thought to yourself. No French speaker, so there really was no reason for me to be here. You sighed and turned around and instantly, your heart sank. What was she doing here?

Gina welcomed the girls, and they all smiled and exchanged niceties, except for Elisa, who was looking at you with an unreadable expression. You bit your lip and hurried over to your girlfriend, who was preoccupied, talking to one of the camera guys about something.

"Casey, uh, one of the players isn’t part of the interview but she’s here," you stammered. "Is that okay? It must be a mistake."

Casey furrowed her dark eyebrows and ran a hand through her brown hair. "Uh, hmm, maybe last-minute changes? Can you go ask Gina about it, babe? I’m a bit busy."

You sighed and nodded. Before you could even take a moment to think, Gina was calling your name. You winced slightly before gathering your composure and walking over with a fake smile.

"Our actual writer for today is out sick, so she’ll be taking over," Gina mentioned after introducing you. "But she’s actually perfect for the job, as she spent a few summers in France as a teen. If anyone needs a French translation, she’s your gal."

The blonde girl, who you knew well as Mary Earps, chuckled and quipped, "Oh, I bet she speaks French better than most of us… except maybe Elisa."

Elisa gave a tight smile, looking amused, but you could tell she was as tense as you. You nodded and tried to keep smiling. "Oh, so, uh, De Almeida is taking Geyoro’s place?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “The list your manager sent had her listed.”

Elisa looked at you with an unreadable expression. "Well, Grace figured my English is better than hers, so I should take her place," she explained nonchalantly. "Will that be a problem?"

Ignoring the slight edge in her tone, you shook your head. "No, no, just making sure." You gave her a warm smile, which she didn’t reciprocate. "Anyway, I’m so glad to have met you all."

Gina led the group to the shoot and briefed them. One of the girls, Jackie, quickly warmed up to you. "You play too?" She asked you, making polite conversation.

You nodded. "Yeah, but never professionally. I just loved it as a kid."

"That’s so cool. Where in France did you go for summer camp?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Uh, Montpellier," you replied, hesitating.

Her eyes widened. "What? That’s crazy. Elisa used to play there." She smiled widely and tugged on Elisa’s arm. "Our writer used to train at Montpellier too."

Elisa glanced at you, unamused, before turning back to Jackie. "You really should listen to the instructions, Jackie," she said, refusing to acknowledge you.

Wow, so professional.

Jackie seemed confused with how Elisa responded but didn’t bother to question it and just settled with listening to Gina. You bit your lip, pretending to look at the script again.

Later, you all moved to the other side of the conference room where the temporary set was. Casey seemed busy adjusting some things but she gave you a cheeky wink as you passed her.

Unbeknownst to you, Elisa noticed, recalling that this was the same girl who’d been brushing stray hairs from your face in the lobby earlier. She also furrowed her eyebrows together after seeing a light, smudged lipstick mark on Casey’s cheek; just one glance at you, she could tell it was the same shade as the lipstick you were wearing.

Gina had the team all set up and seated. She signaled you to hand over the whiteboards. All the girls smiled and thanked you, but when you reached Elisa, there was only silence.

You tried to steady your nerves as you made your way to the side of the camera, squatting down.

"Oh no, why’s the pretty writer on the floor?" Jackie commented with a friendly smile at you. "She should sit with us."

You smiled and shook your head. "No, no, can’t be seen by the camera," you explained. "I’m good, I promise."

The sweet Dutch girl smiled again at you. The others also gave polite smiles, except for Elisa, who was busy capping and uncapping her whiteboard marker repeatedly. So, she still fidgets a lot, huh.

The shoot began, and you read the first question. "Who is most excited to play against San Diego Wave in the upcoming friendlies match?"

The girls quickly wrote on their boards, as if they already knew. Elisa was a bit more relaxed but still seemed tense around you.

They all turned their boards, each unanimously agreein that it would be Korbin Albert.

"And it’s not just the match," Mary commented. "The whole flight, it was all, 'Omg guys, we should try Raising Cane’s,' or 'We should all go to Disneyland!' I think she’s just thrilled to be home really."

They laughed at Mary’s fake American accent, and Korbin shrugged. "What can I say? Proud American," she said. Of course, she would be.

After they erased their boards, you moved on to the next question. "Who is most likely to be late to training?"

They all paused, looking at each other as if clueless, until Jackie’s eyes lit up. She chuckled. "Okay, before I even reveal my answer, my only disclaimer is that she was only late recently, but she’s usually punctual."

The others seemed to catch on and began writing. Elisa appeared to be spacing out, still deep in thought.

"Are you guys ready?" you prompted.

Elisa snapped out of it and looked at you. "Sorry, I didn’t hear the question," she said genuinely.

All the other girls laughed. She looked at you to repeat it, but before you could, Gina asked if she needed a French translation.

Elisa gave a weak smile. "Eh, why not? Why have a French translator if she won’t speak French?" she joked.

You bit your lip and looked down at the script. "Uh, qui est le plus… uh, susceptible d’arriver en retard à… l’entraînement?" you said with your unpracticed French.

Elisa’s eyes softened, and her smile grew. You hated to admit it, but you missed seeing that smile. "Hmm, ton français est toujours aussi bon," she complimented.

You blinked, looking around to see if anyone understood, only to remember you were the only other person who spoke French too.

But just as you started to relax, Jackie gave a confused look. "Toujours?" she muttered, questioning why Elisa would say your French was still so good.

Elisa raised her eyebrows, suddenly remembering that Jackie was getting proficient in French, but ignored the comment as she wrote down her answer.

You panicked. "Okay, ready, guys?" you counted down for them to turn their boards.

They all wrote down "Elisa," except for Elisa, who had written "Jackie." Jackie feigned sadness at Elisa’s answer.

Elisa looked at everyone’s boards. "Why did you all write me?"

Korbin laughed. "Well, Jackie’s right… Elisa is usually punctual, but she was late to the airport the other day because she forgot her passport, and it made everyone panic."

The group nodded. "Yeah, our manager was losing his mind until Elisa showed up, all sweaty from running through the gates," Mary laughed, recounting the moment. "But thank god she made it, or else there’d be no French rep in this video. Isn’t that right?"

They all laughed, and Elisa gave a playful shrug. "I’m always early to training, though. The airport was a one-time thing…" she defended herself.

Before they could erase, Jackie asked, "Why did you write me, though?"

"I mean, we’re usually on time, but I just think you’re the most likely to be late," Elisa replied with a shrug. "I don’t know."

Jackie sighed. "I’m always earlier than everyone," she corrected Elisa. "Toujours earlier than everyone."

You stiffened at the "toujours" comment; she really had noticed Elisa’s slip-up earlier. Along with the fact that you had brought up to her that you lived in Montpellier, you were certain that Jackie had pieced together that you and Elisa may have had history.

Elisa seemed to notice you stiffening up to the comment since she cleared her throat to bring your attention back to the interview.

You looked at the next line. "Uh," you stammered, "Uhm, next question: Who’s most likely to go overboard with celebrations?"

You went through a few more rounds. The girls quickly warmed up, laughing and bantering. Elisa remained mostly quiet, though she did chime in occasionally. Finally, you finished with the last question, and it was time to wrap up.

"Okay, that’s all the questions." You smiled at them.

The girls stood up and thanked the crew. Each of them thanked you as they passed. Your heart started racing as Elisa approached you.

She held out her hand, which was unusual, but you didn’t want to appear impolite, so you shook it. Her grip was firm. "Bonne interview."

You gave her a tight smile. "Merci."

She gave you one last, loaded look, her brown eyes gazing deeply into yours. It had been years since you’d been this close to Elisa, holding her hand as you were now. You noticed her glancing quickly at your features—your eyes, nose, lips—as if committing them to memory in the brief moment.

She gave you a final smile before letting go of your hand. You looked straight ahead, stunned, not looking back as the girls left the conference room.

You wondered if this would be the last time you’d see Elisa de Almeida.

"Babe, you good? You’ve been so quiet," Casey asked.

Everyone was almost finished packing up. You’d spent most of the time after the interview looking through the clips, making the usual marks for the editor. But this time, it took longer because you kept getting distracted by your ex.

You hesitated to answer your girlfriend's question. Part of you felt like you should tell her about Elisa, but another part of you just wanted to forget about her all over again. Casey knew a little about you dating someone in France and breaking up due to incompatibility, but she had no idea that Elisa was your ex.

"Uh, just out of it today," you said, giving Casey a weak smile.

She patted you on the back. "It’s okay. Why don’t we go out tonight on a date? Dinner at your favorite Mexican place?"

You smiled back and nodded. She leaned in and gave you a kiss before going back to help the crew.

You sighed. The kiss reminded you that you should have moved on. You had a girlfriend who was hardworking, amazing, and gorgeous. You had a great job that you loved. Sure, it didn’t pay amazingly, but Casey made enough for you two to live comfortably and happily. You were living the life you’d always wanted.

The life you thought you would have… with Elisa.

You shook away all thoughts of her, cursing the thought of her again. Why did she have to go and ruin things? Everything was going perfectly, and then here she comes.

You shut your laptop, deciding you’d had enough of reviewing the footage. You figured you’d rather deal with annoyed editing staff than to keep marking and reviewing footage of your ex.

Suddenly, someone came bolting into the conference room. It was the Dutch girl, Jackie. "Hey, I’m so sorry," she said to the staff. "Has anyone seen an orange power bank? I think I might have left it here."

Your eyes moved to the orange power bank Casey had set aside beside you, thinking it belonged to Gina or the crew. "Oh, is it this?" you asked, holding up the power bank.

She beamed and walked over. "Yes, thank you!" She took the charger from you and exhaled in relief. "How can I repay you?"

"Oh, it’s nothing!" you replied, smiling.

"Really? Why don’t you come over to our team hangout later?" she suggested brightly. "We usually have a small get-together with a few drinks and games whenever we visit another country for friendlies. It’s pretty casual—like college all over again… but more tame."

You knew that was the last thing you needed, especially since you were sure Elisa would be there. You shook your head. "I’d love to, but my girlfriend and I are going on a date tonight. I’ve been craving Mexican food, and we haven’t had a date night in so long."

"Oh no," she pouted. "That’s too bad. If you change your mind, your producer has my number."

You gave a polite nod and bid the Dutch girl farewell as she left. You sighed. As much as Jackie was total friend material, you didn’t want to risk being anywhere near Elisa again.

"Those girls seem like good fun, don’t they?" Somehow, the topic of football and the PSG girls managed to sneak its way into your dinner date with Casey, much to your chagrin. "Especially Jackie! She seemed to like you a lot. You think she has a crush on you?"

You laughed at your girlfriend’s teasing. "Jackie? Groenen? Baby, you really don’t know anything about football because I think she might be one of the straightest women’s football players to exist." You replied. "Actually, I think most of the girls we interviewed are straight."

Casey hummed as she chewed her on her fajitas. "I’m pretty sure that Elisa girl isn’t, though. She looked gay as hell." She commented with a chuckle.

You hummed in silent agreement, just wanting to steer clear of the topic of your ex-girlfriend. "Hmm, is your food good?" You asked.

She chuckled. "Well, yeah, this is what I always get here, so it’s still good," she replied, confused as to why you were suddenly asking. "Anyway, you really didn’t know those girls? Or anyone from their team? Weren’t you in some youth league?"

You shook your head. "It was short-lived. I was pretty good at the sport, but I just… was focused on writing most of the time. After my short football stint, I got way more invested in journalism workshops and all that stuff.” You said, avoiding answering the question about knowing anyone in the team. "Besides, most the girls we met earlier aren’t French nationals."

"Oh yeah, except Elisa." Casey nodded, making you wince again. "I heard Jackie inviting you to their party. Why’d you say no? I was kind of expecting you to agree… y'know, bring back memories of your French days or something."

You shook your head. "No, no, tonight’s date night. You already asked me before she did."

Casey furrowed her eyebrows at your excuse. "You know I’d be cool with a change of plans, but yeah, she seemed eager to be friends with you."

You nodded. "Yeah, to be honest, I feel like we’d get along and be good friends. The vibes, y'know." You replied. "Anyway, let’s talk about what you’re going to do for your mom and dad’s 50th anniversary."

You successfully steered the topic away from Jackie, football, and most importantly, your ex. Soon, Casey and you were busy laughing and bantering about other things.

After Casey paid the bill, she hummed. "I kinda still don’t wanna go home yet," she remarked. "You mind getting some dessert or a drink? I just want to extend the date longer. Y'know, make it feel like our first date all over again."

You smiled at your girlfriend. She was always the sweet, romantic type. Even though Casey was very hardworking and dedicated to her career, it always seemed like you were her number one priority. Your happiness always came first to her.

You felt guilty at times with the way you spent most of your time focusing on your career but Casey was incredibly understanding and accommodating. Every opportunity you had free time, she’d snatch it up and plan something romantic for the two of you — vacations, dates, new experiences. You were lucky with Casey.

You couldn’t help but contrast it with your ex, Elisa, who always seemed to postpone all your dates just to focus on football. When you were together, your relationship never seemed to be her priority. You couldn’t blame her; she knew what she wanted and had to pour all her energy towards it. And… she got it all.

She was now the big-time defender of a major league and the French national team. She was pretty much a name all women’s football fans knew at this point. She made a name for herself.

She got everything she wanted, and so did you. It was just weird how fate worked out, forcing your paths to cross again for just a moment, as if to show you both what you had achieved now that you were apart.

"Babe?" You snapped back to reality. Casey chuckled. "You zoned out."

"Oh, sorry, I just realized I forgot to mark the clips from earlier." You excused yourself. "But yeah, drinks kinda sound good."

She smiled. "Great."

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walked to a bar near the Mexican restaurant; you had always frequented the same bar since your first date. So, naturally, it was a nostalgic place; it was exactly what you needed to remind yourself of how lucky you were with Casey. It was better to reminisce about old memories of your current girlfriend than old memories of your ex.

But as you arrived at the venue, the staff stopped you almost immediately. "Oh no, we're closed for today," the waitress at the door said. "Private event."

Casey frowned. "Oh? Can’t we just sit by the bar?" she asked. "You know us, we’re here every weekend. We’ll behave.”

The waitress gave a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, of course, I know my regulars, but this party requested no outsiders today," she said. "Hollywood, you know how it is."

You peered into the bar, expecting to see celebrities, but instead… you saw the Paris Saint-Germain girls eating, doing karaoke, and laughing with each other and a bunch of their friends. Damn.

"Wait, isn’t that Jackie?" Casey said, and as if on cue, the Dutch girl looked in your direction.

She smiled widely and rushed to the door. "You guys made it!" she said in disbelief. “I didn’t get a text from you so I thought you wouldn’t come.”

You blinked nervously. "No, no!" you exclaimed almost too quickly. "Uh, we're regulars here at this bar, and we just stopped by after our. It was a total coincidence. I’d hate to interfere. We’re going to go now."

You grabbed Casey's arm, but she remained unmoving. "Babe, weren’t you just saying that you wanted to be friends with Jackie?"

"Oh my god. I feel the exact same way! Please stay! Let’s all be friends." The Dutch insisted, dragging you inside the bar. You politely nodded but felt the gnawing feeling of instant regret. You had to get out of here.

As soon as Jackie was tad out of earshot, you turned to your girlfriend. "Casey, I'm not feeling that sociable right now. Can we just go?" you whispered.

She looked confused but nodded. "Uh? Okay, if you really don’t wanna stay." she replied. "But I kinda do have to pee. Is it okay if I go? You can have a quick drink, then after I go piss, let's just discreetly leave?"

You sighed but nodded. As soon as your girlfriend left for the restroom, Jackie brought some of the girls over to meet you, introducing you as if you’d been longtime friends.

"This is Y/N. She’s a writer. She was the one who did our interview a while ago and it was so much fun. Also, she lived in France before too," she said to the girls you were just meeting. She turned to you. "Tu as joué au football en France avant, n'est-ce pas ?" (You played football in France too, right?)

"Pas professionnellement," you replied. "Only for fun."

The girls were friendly and accommodating, but your attention was divided since you noticed that Elisa had taken note of your presence. As you were trying to be active in conversation, the sight of her just meters away kept distracting you.

Elisa was wearing an oversized black shirt and jeans. It was her usual laid-back look, but something about the effortlessness was so attractive.

She made her way to you, casually. "Hello, interviewer, what brings you here?" She tried to sound casual, but you could see there was a lot going on behind her eyes. "Tu es là pour nous interviewer à nouveau, hein?" ("Are you here to interview us again?")

You laughed lightly. "No, no, c’est une coïncidence." You smiled at the other girls, who politely excused themselves; they seemed to have lost interest in your conversation once one of the other players began loudly singing Eye of the Tiger with a very strong accent. You were now left with Elisa.

Great, you thought. This is what I least wanted to happen.

"It really is a coincidence, huh?" She gave you a weak smile, seemingly amused at the situation you both were put into by some grand cosmic prank. "So… you're staying for drinks?"

"No, my girlfriend and I are leaving after she’s done," you replied truthfully.

"Oh," she said before you two were awkwardly silent again. You picked at the hem of your blouse. She glanced at you, looking at how much you’ve changed since she last saw you. Your hair was longer. Your style was different. But to her, you were just as beautiful as the last time you two were together.

"Uh, I think I'll go to the bar and just order something, and I'll wait there." You said, trying to excuse yourself. “You can go back to the party. I don’t wanna keep you from your friends.”

She nodded. "Okay, I'll tell them to put it on our tab."

You made your way to the bar as the French girl followed you. "No, no, not necessary," you said. “I’ll take care of it.”

She chuckled. "Come on, we've got a big budget for tonight, and virtually none of these girls are drinking any alcohol, so you might as well have a drink on us." She insisted, and as you two made your way to the bartender, she nodded as if to signal you to order.

Knowing Elisa and her hardheadedness, you acquiesced. "Uh, a mojito please."

Elisa chuckled. You turned to look at her with a questioning glance. She maintained a safe distance but moved a bit closer to speak in a lower tone. She bit her lip, looking a tad nervous.

“Un mojito… toujours ton choix,” she said, her voice carrying a familiar warmth. She looked up to you and flashed you the smile you knew all too well. "Some things really don’t change.”

The words felt heavy. You took a moment to process what she had said. The bartender gave you your drink with a smile, and you returned a smile of gratitude for the drink and the fact that you knew they couldn’t understand a thing Elisa was saying.

You took a sip. "Oui, certaines choses ne changent pas," you said, affirming her statement. "But also, a lot has changed too." Your words lingered. You wanted to say so much more, but it felt like it was all you could manage in this moment.

Elisa's smile faded, replaced by a more vulnerable look. “Je vois ça,” she said quietly, studying you with a softness you remembered all too well. "C’est presque… étrange de te revoir comme ça.” (It’s almost… strange to see you like this again.)

You let out a breath, glancing down at her drink. You swirled your drink, watching the ice clink around in your glass. “On aurait peut-être dû éviter ça, non?” (Maybe we should have avoided this, huh?)

Elisa paused, then shook her head. “Je ne sais pas. Peut-être que je voulais juste savoir… si tu allais bien.” (I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to know… if you’re doing okay.)

You felt the familiar ache in your chest, a mix of longing and regret. “Je vais bien, Elisa,” you said softly, but you could feel your voice shake. You couldn't help but feel tears form in your eyes. You blinked a couple times to prevent it. You looked away. "Mais toi… tu as changé?" (But you… have you changed?)

Elisa hesitated, her gaze lowering for a moment. “J’ai essayé,” she nodded and responded softly, barely above a whisper. "Mais certaines choses restent." (But some things stay the same.)

For a brief moment, neither of you spoke. The noise of the bar faded into the background as you both avoided each other's gaze. You felt the air around you get heavy. It was weird being alone like this to her, saying so little yet revealing so much. It kinda felt wrong being together like this. You took a swig of your drink.

She chuckled out of nowhere, making you at her. "It's funny, noh?" she said, switching back to English once the bartender left to attend to some things in the kitchen. "Seeing each other after so long?"

She practically echoing your thoughts in a more succinct way. You stayed silent, feeling impatient and wondering why your girlfriend was taking so long. Elisa must have noticed your eyes flicker to the bathroom.

"That was your girlfriend, yes?" she asked. “The tall brunette?”

You bit your lip. "Yeah, that's her."

She nodded and awkwardly played with her own glass, swirling what looked like juice around. "Been together long?"

"Almost two years," you responded curtly ith a nod.

She hummed in response, raising her eyebrows as if in slight disbelief. "She seems good for you," she commented.

You nodded. “She is,” you said softly. "I’m happy." But even as you said it, it seemed to lack conviction. You knew you were happy. You were the happiest you've been, but somehow, your voice was soft as you said it. You felt like your own voice and body language was betraying you.

Elisa exhaled and nodded slowly, her fingers fidgeting with her glass. "C’est tout ce que je voulais pour toi," she murmured before looking up at you. (That’s all I ever wanted for you.)

The two of you locked gazes. You felt a pang in your heart as she said it. She sounded so sure of herself, yet her voice couldn't help but be laced with a tinge of regret and pain. It felt like such a loaded message partnered with the way her eyes were piercing yours.

You swallowed, feeling yourself soften. “Elisa…” you began, unsure of what exactly you wanted to say, only that you didn't want this moment to end on an unfinished note.

But before she could continue, Casey called your name, waving you over. You noticed that your girlfriend had already left the restroom and was being roped into karaoke.

You smiled weakly at the sight of your clueless girlfriend and gave her a wave as you watched her be coaxed into singing by the French girls.

You gave Elisa a small, regretful smile. “I should go before they make Casey sing. God knows that's the last thing anyone wants to hear," you said, attempting to joke. "But… it was good to see you.”

Elisa's expression shifted into something more guarded, but she nodded. "Yes… you too." Her voice trembled, just for a moment.

You took a last swig of your drink, leaving it at the counter, before rescuing your girlfriend from the mic. You gave a short but polite farewell to Jackie and everyone else.

As you were leaving, Elisa stayed at the counter, sitting down and taking a sip of her own drink. You bit your lip and focused on making your way out of the bar.

You thought you closed your chapter with Elisa years ago when you broke up and left France. And earlier, you thought you closed that chapter again after one last chance meeting. Now, you wanted to make sure it was done and sealed. You were closing the book and never looking back again.

But you couldn't help it.

Just as you were about to exit, you took one last glance to capture a sight of your ex-girlfriend with her head in her hands, looking more devastated than when you broke up with her.

a/n: this was a pretty long first chapter. this is my first time writing angst so i hope i’m doing alright. i also included a bit of french which might be all wrong and weird tbh since i only had one semester’s worth of french and google translate by my side. correct me if it’s wrong. just sharing a bit of writing lore but i actually got this idea after watching copious amounts of football content on youtube and some edits on woso tiktok to the doomsday verse… which inspired this fic and the title!!!!

anyway, reply if you want to be tagged once i post part 2! (also happy balon d’or day!!!! so excited cause i just know it’s between cgh and aitana!)

[mildlyromanticperv]

Who would've thought...?

Haerin x MReader Fluff One-Shot

-Honey, are you ready? -You poke Haerin's cheek with a smirk, resting your head above hers trying to wake your wife up.

-Mhmmm stop it... -Her pout reminds you of the face she put up when you proposed, or more accurately, when she found out you wanted to propose and just yelled yes without you knowing what happened.

13 months prior...

-No, no, no! Don't shoot him! -Your joyfully yelling covers the entirety of your room as you and your girlfriend are focused with sheer devotion to their GTA V game. -Babe! He's a good guy!

-He looks insane! Is half naked what do you mean?

-She yells with equal joy screwing up the mission you two are playing, however despite the screw up you two just end in a sea of laughter and hitting the couch you bought together, times could not be better.

Kang Haerin, your girlfriend from 2 years now moved in with you just a mere 6 months prior, despite being something so recent you two share far more stories together than one could imagine and no one could say otherwise.

As the rising laughter falls into heavy breathing from you two recovering from the intense experience the game just provided.

-Oh man! You're so stupid sometimes babe!

-Oh shut up, you're the one wanting to save some maniacs life!

-Well, saving maniacs's lives made me famished, do you want some pizza tonight? -You rest your head in your fist as you lean into the couch and look for her eyes, her gorgeous piercing eyes followed by her expressive smile fills your heart with joy.

-You know I do, handsome, just don't put olives in it. -She draws out her tongue to playfully tease you.

-Are you sure you have taste buds? -You say jokingly surprised by her choice of no olives.

-More than you apparently. -Haerin crosses her arms playfully but without being able to contain her smile she bursts out laughing either way. -But seriously, don't order olives for me. -She starts to turn off the gaming console and opens Netflix on the tv, ready for that movie night you promised as your... Billionth date?

-Whatever, you're lucky I love you otherwise I'd order a pizza with only cheese and olives. -You reply playfully and then sit down next to her as well with two full cups of hot cocoa.

-Awww you make my heart flutter. -She answers sarcastically at your comment.

Even though you've been together for 2 years, with every little gesture of hers you just fall deeper and deeper in love with her, the light of your eyes... The same light she has when she looks at you.

"This is perfect, I'm going to marry that girl." Is the thought that crosses your mind every single time her smile warms your heart, but you keep postponing it because... Why was it? Why are you waiting so much?

Why don't you just say it?

That's right.

Everything's perfect, why change it? Why do you need to call her other than your girlfriend if she's just perfect just the way she is?

-Honey? Are you okay? -Her sweet voice snaps you back into reality as she is now leaning on your shoulder and her left hand is pressed against your chest gently... Her gaze intensely looks for your eyes to try and read your emotions through them.

-I couldn't be better, sweetie. -Your sincere smile tells more than a thousand words, just a mere curl of your lips when your eyes meet hers is a constant confession of the devotion you have for her.

Not so long after the movie starts, you two hold in each other's embrace trying to protect each other from the frightening jump scares of the unreasonable choice of scary movies you chose for tonight.

With the extreme focus you two have even the ringing of your bell scares the shit out of you two.

-For Christ sake! -Even for a couple, shouting the same thing at the same time must be impressive.

The ringing on the bell sends confusion in both of your heads until Haerin realizes the facts.

-It's the pizza, idiot. -She says harshly as she flicks a finger on your forehead.

You rolled your eyes at her and mouth to her "shut up".

After a while you return with a big-ass pepperoni and cheese pizza with such a smell that only by opening it both of your stomachs start to growl uncontrollably.

-Here babe, you can start I'm going to get us something to drink... -You left the box on the coffee table of your living room. -You want soda or beer?

-Beer, babe, tomorrow Haerin's going to rest. -She says playfully feeling all warm and fuzzy as you get closer with the two beers on your hand.

One could say that two eaters sharing a pizza would become a non stop ending fight to see who is going to take the last slice, however these two lovebirds have their own system: slicing the last slice in half, everything has to be balanced, even when it comes to the food.

Finally after some time later you two finish your dinner and continue watching the movie, movie that is becoming so freaking boring that you can't resist but lean your head in Haerin's shoulder and fall asleep slowly, snoring and taking her scent slowly.

*Bzzz* *Bzzz* *Bzzz*

Your phone.

A notification?

A message.

Haerin's unwavering curiosity gets the best of her as she starts to fondle your pants looking for your phone, once she gets it she turns on the screen she's greeted by a picture of her smile and cat ears as your background pic, however what gets into her heart more is the fact that you never used any kind of lock, not security pin or password... Nothing, a complete show of trust that left her speechless for a while and drove her to kiss your sleeping cheeks.

Without any more seconds to waste she opens your messaging app to find the name of one of her sisters... Hanni?

Why is Hanni texting him this late at night?

Billions of thoughts flood her mind, sending a storm of doubt, jealousy, possessiveness. Why on earth would her best friend and sister text her boyfriend on a Friday night?

*Ding*

"You moron, you don't leave the ring in your underwear drawer, she would find it, you need to have it with you at all times and then ask her out when you two go out on a date." Is the last message that comes in while Haerin holds your phone.

-Why would you do that to me, Hanni? -Is the only thing she can think of, her sister, her belove... A ring? What does she mean?

A ring in his underwear drawer?

Haerin's cat-like stealth comes in very handy from time to time to scare her boyfriend and giggle right after, and it came extremely handy to drop his phone on his chest and go running to your shared bedroom and looking frantically for your underwear drawer.

Inside a small blue velvet box is placed perfectly between your socks and a pair of red boxers she gifted you barely a week before, upon picking it up she trembles in expectation.

"Can this be...?"

"Is this real..?"

"Does he really want to marry me?"

The question sends shivers down her spine as she opens the box to find just a piece of paper inside, disappointed and with the heart in her hand she throws the box and reads the message.

"Turn around, you minx."

She immediately turns around, surprised by the usage of the nickname her boyfriend only uses whenever she disappears and appears out of thin air.

Right behind her, her boyfriend, you, are kneeling on one knee, with tears of joy rolling down your cheeks and a silver ring with a small ruby gemstone on top, your breathing is heavy, irregular, but your eyes and your smile are calm, confident...

Hopeful.

-My plan went well. -Is what you say once her eyes meet yours, your breath allows you to just breath enough not to crumble, after a few seconds of eternity you finally speak. -Kang Haerin, I have thought about how to say this several times, to be honest for a few weeks now. Who would've thought that I would end up meeting the love of my life in my first year in Korea? but I guess life just doesn't go as we planned.

Your eyes are exploring every feature of your girlfriend as you speak, recording every single detail forever.

-For weeks I've had the certainty that my life belongs by your side, that my future is you, starting a family with you and loving only you, so Kang Haerin, forgive this sudden proposal and please tell me...

Will you marry me?

At the sight of your lips moving to say those 4 perfect words Haerin can't help but crumble in tears, jumping forward to meet your arms not giving a second thought I'd maybe the ring would get lost.

-YES! YES! OF COURSE I WILL.

Her yells of excitement fill the room and for a second leaves you deaf on one ear, but it's worth it. Completely worth it.

Your arms wrapped around her as you caress her hair and her back, the aftermath of the proposal is translated into her shivers being held by your embrace, her tender gaze meets yours and you start to clean up the tears rolling down her chin

-I really love you, baby. -She says once she calms down a bit. -And I would never choose anything else but being with you, forever.

-I love you too, my dear fiancee.

[baldudiable]

pick a card : where you need to take action

choose the image you feel most drawn to.

pile 1

six of swords, nine of cups, the star, ten of wands

this pile is about leaving something behind feeling disappointed. this has costed you and taken a lot from you, but it has also taught you a lot. i feel like this refers to a job or a certain lifestyle. whatever this is, you have decided to leave it behind because it didn't align with your values. even if you feel like time was wasted, this experience has allowed you to acquire the knowledge and skills necessary for your next step. if you're still thinking about leaving something behind but are feeling fearful about it, you should trust your instinct and take action. if you do, the outcome will be extremely rewarding.

the nine of cups indicates that the situation you were in took a lot of mental space and made you forget about the things that actually make you happy. the card represents a man sitting in front of nine cups with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. you are soon going to reconnect with a practice or motto that you have abandoned. you are going to spend more time nurturing this activity, and that will make you happier because it’s something that you actually enjoy doing.

then we have the star. the star is about taking energy from a source and pouring it to another. it’s associated with Aquarius, the humanitarian. in this context, it means that there is something that you can offer to the collective. maybe you have always wanted to be a creative, or have always wanted to help others in some way, but have been advised against that by your parents or by society in general. the star says that your gifts are not meant to be hidden. you are meant to share them with the world. someone, somewhere, needs to hear the message that you want to spread.

this card is also an encouragement to trust both yourself and the universe. if there's something that you wanna do because it makes you happy, you shouldn’t wait to do it. you shouldn’t postpone happiness, as the future isn’t certain. there’s nothing else more important than feeling good in the present. when you are feeling good, the universe will deliver more experiences that makes you feel good. like attracts like. wealth, health, connection… all of these things will be given to you when you feel happy and fulfilled. if you don’t know about the law of attraction yet, you should learn about it. it will help you to feel more grateful about what you have and also more relaxed about your decisions.

the last arcana suggests that this change of course won’t be easy, though. you will have to give it your all. some people see the ten of wands as a burden that's too heavy to bear. but as the last card of the wand suite, it signifies accomplishment and satisfaction. you will have to put more energy and intention into what you're doing, but the more that you do, the more rewards you will get. the man on the picture carries ten wands home, which represent the trophies he’s earned along the way. he is bringing them home so he can finally rest and enjoy the success he has fought so hard to achieve.

pile 2

seven of cups, queen of swords, nine of cups, temperance

i feel like you are confused about where to focus on energy on. i feel like there are opportunities and options in front of you, and that you don't know which one to choose. so you are asking yourself what it is that you want. is it status, meaning, or connection that you seek ? is it wealth ? some of these paths are dangerous and deadly, as indicated by the snake and weird creature appearing out of the cups. be careful what you wish for, because it might well come true. does any of these paths resonate with the person you're trying to become? will they actually make you grow, or are they just shortcuts to success?

the queen of swords suggests that you can be very decisive and determined. you might be a fixed sign, or have a lot of fixed energy in your chart. once you are sure what the goal is, there is no going back. you give it your all, until you reach your destination. but i feel like you have been influenced by your peers or by society in general to pursue things that aren't really you. you have been walking toward a dead end. the queen is looking straight ahead, with her sword held high. she's ready to cut through the bullshit. the clouds behind her are lifting, meaning that state of confusion is disappearing. you know what you're supposed to do. and you know that you've got what it takes to succeed. all you have to do is to take the step.

once you do, you will be highly satisfied. we can relate the nine of cups to the act of doing what one knows and enjoys doing. you will decide to do something that actually makes you happy, and not another person's idea of happiness. once you do, you will be highly proud of yourself and proud of the thing that you are creating. the joy you will feel will attract even more opportunities for you to be happy.

temperance indicates an equilibrium between water and earth; between the spiritual and the physical. whatever enterprise you are planning to take on, you should know that it is your calling. the angel on the card is enlightened, while the Sun behind him is rising. balance will be restored. you will finally be doing something that you are supposed to do. once you are walking this path, everything will align. you'll feel better and more hopeful about the future.

pile 3

the tower, two of pentacles, nine of wands, ace of wands

i see the destruction of one's fondation, of one's support system. you may have lost a friend, a lover, or a job. maybe they left you. this thing or person meant a lot to you, and you don't know how to go on without them. you might be depressed. you don't feel like you have enough energy or drive to do anything. so you let chances pass by in front of you, feeling stagnant and regretful.

the two of pentacles represent the contemplation of a ressource or opportunity. the character on the image plays with the pentacles, instead of using them. the movement of the pentacles draw a figure 8. you are living in your head and juggling with this idea instead of working actively to make it come true. you have wasted time but it's not too late to start moving. you have a lot of ressources at your disposal, as indicated by the nine of wands, the penultimate arcana of the suite. you have almost arrived at your desired destination. success is near. but you are still looking backward, focusing on the past instead of making the most of your present situation.

the last card of the reading is the ace of pentacles. which is funny as it's the first card of the wand suite. it's about starting another journey, and the infinite potential that comes with it. wands are associated with the fire element, which isn't fearful about new experiences. on the contrary, fire gets excited when new opportunities present themselves because they allow it to spread and expand. whatever opportunity presents itself to you, you should take it because once you do, you could accomplish things you didn't think you didn't think you were capable of. all you have to do is to decide to get moving and things will stat moving. whatever happened is in the past. you might not be able to get it back, but i don't think that you need it to keep going on your way. you still have the most important weapon in your arsenal, and that arsenal is you.

[plutoswritingplanet]

Vicarious (Homelander x Female!Reader) pt.4

a/n: a short conclusion for the last chapter, before i finish a more story-heavy one, deeply inspired by "Two Against One" by Jack White

Warnings: Masturbation (again, wow), Explicit Language, Alcohol Use, Very Creepy Behavior, Plus Sized Reader, Inappropriate Relations With A Marble Wall, Suggestive Themes

Summary: Both you and Homelander get increasingly confused about what you truly are. None come out unscathed.

Vicarious Masterlist

The vulnerability of drunkenness looks good on you. 

At first, you're none the wiser. As your limbs uncurl from around Homelander, your feet hitting the polished floor of his penthouse. Stomach flipping around, you fight with all your strength not to fall to your knees, as the shock of being shot out through the air slowly subsides. Homelander starts pacing around the living area, an excitable spring in his steps, as he makes his way towards the rather well-stocked liquor cabinet. Were you more vigilant, perhaps you would've read this action for what it truly was, but as it stands, the realization is postponed for a few seconds more. 

Glasses clink somewhere behind you, but you're too focused on steadying your breathing to notice. Your vision is swimming, the blurred outline of a gigantic American flag, hanged on the wall in front of you, makes you want to jump out that stupid window. The repetitive pattern twists your brain around.

- Ugh... Jesus - you throw the offending piece of cloth a withering look.

- If you're going to be sick, do it in the bathroom - Homelander barks, keeping himself out of your field of vision. 

- I'll be fine, don't wo... - okay, you cut yourself off because maybe you're not fine after all. 

A second passes, as you try to identify, if the feeling inside your chest is an omen of oncoming vomit. 

No, it's good, you're okay. 

Your eyelids are so incredibly heavy, it almost feels like your lashes are tangling together every time you blink, trying to force your eyes to stay closed. There's this strange taste in your mouth, a ghost of drinks past, mixed with some other, much more worrying substances you've enthusiastically consumed, and you smack your tongue against your pallet, running it over your teeth, as if to test if they're all set in place. Adrenaline gathers at the tips of your fingertips, and you shake your hands with a frown, fighting to rid yourself of this energy. Instead of helping, it only serves to make your stomach churn harder.

Traumatic experiences, such as being flown through the air at ungodly speed, should technically sober you up, but right now you feel like you've been funneling alcohol through a tube the entire night. Not entirely untrue, but you've never been a lightweight, so this sudden change of pace surprises and worries you. And there's one more thing. As your hands flail at your sides, checking your bearings, a sudden wave of realization hits you like a truck. 

Your bag. You forgot your bag at the party, and as such, your phone is lost too. Which wouldn't be so bad, if you didn't have the combination for the door of your room in the Tower saved in the notes. Your head starts to hurt, eyes closing shut, as you try to will the numbers into your brain. They were funny, you made them into a joke, you just don't remember which one. 

- Fuck... - you sigh, scratching at the back of your neck, where your sweat is rapidly cooling in the conditioned air of the penthouse. 

Which was it? Four numbers, significant ones. You chuckled to yourself when you first typed them into the lock, but it's so hard to focus on anything other than staying upright.

- You okay there? - Homelander asks, and suddenly you're reminded that he's still here, with you.

Alone. 

It's not dread that climbs up your spine at the realization, not excitement either. What you feel, clawing its way through your insides like a feral beast, is a profound sense of acceptance. Blue and red invade your vision, as he moves to stand in front of you, pushing a chilled glass filled with amber liquid into your hand. On instinct, your fingers curl around it, but you can't seem to raise it to your lips, wondering, if this move will signal your defeat. His chest rises and falls evenly, as he stands so close to you, you can practically feel the heat coming off of him, along with that rich cologne, that surrounds you from every angle. 

There's a geometric pattern all over the blue parts of his costume, and your eyes fight against its movements in front of you. The padding on his chest and stomach is truly ridiculous, even in your sorry state you can realize the unnatural movements of his fake muscles over his skin. Really, you can't be the only person that's noticed this. 

- I forgot my phone from the party - your voice is so quiet, weak, and you can't seem to pinpoint, if it's Smirnoff's or Fireball's - I don't...

- I know - he interrupts you, inclining his head as if he's trying to entice you to look at him - You left it on a chair in the kitchen. 

You don't give yourself the luxury of confusion, because you should've known. You should've figured it out, the moment he fell from the sky, catching the vulnerability of the moment, and crushing it in his teeth. Of course, he was looking, listening in as well, most likely. Wouldn't be the first time, would it? Who else would've known to leak the contract information, mere hours after you've complained to your friend over the phone, by an open window no less? There's no allowance of betrayal for you, you knew from the start, and yet you've allowed yourself to be put in this situation. You placed your own hand into the maw of the lion, and now you're supposed to expect him not to snap his teeth?

 His hand comes up into your field of vision, those red, leather gloves creaking, as they wrap around your fingers holding the glass. You don't resist, when he guides your hand up, towards your lips, tips the glass against them, until the bitter liquid pours into your mouth, past your teeth. 

- Very good - he murmurs with a patronizing tone, watching your throat work, as you swallow around the burning sensation - Take it all in, champ.

And you do. You down the drink, until there's nothing left. His hand retreats, and your fingers relax, letting the glass fall onto the plush carpet. You need to lock Smirnoff, stuff her back into that box, hidden from sight, before anything progresses. But she just won't let go. She claws her way into your brain, screaming at you to do something, anything, before it's too late. 

This isn't you. You're not here. 

The familiar mantra falls short, as Homelander slowly starts to take off his gloves, one finger at a time. His hands are strong, pale, with slender fingers, that curl and uncurl around air, as if testing the tendons working under his skin. Your eyes glide over the movements, heart stopping for just a moment, when he holds out his right hand in front of your chest, just shy of touching. Wetting your lips with your tongue, you watch, as his fingers tremble with tension. He wants you to feel it, the anticipation of the inevitable. He wants you to break, he's only ever wanted a reaction out of you.

- Please, I don't... - your voice cracks like a window. 

You don't what? Want it? You're convinced there are no words in the world, that would stop him right now, and the muscles in your face twitch. The American flag behind his shoulder stares at you, the stripes suddenly becoming a flurry of motion, as he pushes his hand against your chest. You don't fight it, letting him guide you all the way across the room, until your back reaches the wall, slamming into it with a dull thud. Despite that, the unrelenting force behind his movements makes you acutely aware of his true strength, the sheer lack of humanity inside this man in front of you. 

As soon as you're pressed against the wall, Homelander lurches forwards, his arms encircling your form completely, his face diving into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. Your entire body sways in place, as he takes a long, shuddering breath, his palms mapping the softness of your flesh under the flimsy t-shirt. Cotton tears under his ministrations, and cold air hits your back, your sides. A deep, low hum reverberated through his chest, as he exhales, immediately sucking in another breath through gritted teeth. 

- You... - he huffs, his exposed hands fitting themselves under the tears in your shirt - I've never known something so cheap could smell so good.  

There's a jolt of something, running through his body, as his hips press into you with barely restrained force. He'd fit nicely between your pliable thighs, but not now, not ever. The hardness digging into your stomach finally solidifies, what you dreaded would come.

- We can't - you don't recognize your voice. 

This isn't you. You're not here. 

But Fireball is not here either, so what is this third, strange person, who raises their hands and pushes against his chest, against the metal eagles on his shoulders? The flag still watches you struggle, those impassive stars mocking you at every turn. Truly, the American Dream come true, being humped like a dog by the strongest, most Yankee Doodle Dandy superhero to ever exist. This is exactly, what your parents were chasing, when they moved to the States, searching for a better future for their soon-to-be-born little girl. Will he stick a flag pole in your cunt, and sing the fucking National Anthem, after he's done using you? The thought almost makes you laugh, makes you remember the combination to your room, but all dark amusement flies out the still open window, because suddenly, his arms straighten out. 

He pins you to the wall, pulling back all the way, so he can stare at you with those cold, dead eyes, full of freedom for his own, heinous actions, and none left for you. There's tension in his face, as his lips press together into a condescending, tight smile, and his fingers flex on your shoulders, testing the durability of the stitches of your t-shirt once again. 

- Can't? - there's a tilt to his voice, a barely contained sliver of anger seeping through his teeth - I'm the fucking Homelander. I can do whatever I want. 

Ah, so that's what you're dealing with.

 The box rattles, the lock you've so carefully placed upon it bursting open like a cracked egg. And as Smirnoff takes her rightful place, scraping both Fireball and that elusive third thing from the surface of your brain, you look up at Homelander with utter understanding. What stands in front of you, is not a symbol of hope and peace. You're looking at a spoiled, invincible brat, who's never had to work for anything in his life. 

This is you. You're here. And you're so fucking disappointed.

Once again, you shape-shift right in front of his eyes, and with a shuddered breath Homelander realizes, that finally, he's looking at the real you. Not the bored, wreck of a human being he's met weeks ago, not the corporate product Stillwell has carved out of you, but a secret, third thing. An intoxicating cocktail of your true, hidden feelings floats to the surface, from underneath layers upon layers of masks, and he wishes to tear every single one, if it means you'll keep looking at him like that. Like you know him, like you can see behind the curtain of his performance, just as he sees behind yours. It's been such a long time, since someone made this discovery, and remained impassive.

When he thinks about it, this is the first time, he's met with such levelled response. And, fuck, the thought is better than drugs. The ghost of your scent tickles his nostrils, and he wonders what would stick to his tongue, should he taste you right now. Not fear, not desire, definitely not admiration. The expression you're wearing is eerily familiar, but so strange at the same time. Stitches at your shoulders tear under his fingertips, when he squeezes harder, hoping to extract the answer from your skin, from the softness of your flesh, the caverns of your bones. 

You don't even give him the luxury of a flinch.

- Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.

Who said those words, you're both unsure, but they shoot through him like thousands of spikes, drilling themselves under his impenetrable skin with ease. He blinks, and finally realizes the familiarity of your gaze. He's seen it, back in that lab, back home. Disappointment. And with that realization comes a myriad of familiar feelings, of patterns he's been continuing over, and over again, like a compulsion he's unable to rid himself of. The need to be feared, respected, loved, it all mixes with one more, treacherous thing. Make it right, make it better. 

Slowly, his fingers uncurl from around your shoulders, the t-shirt hanging onto your frame on a couple of strings alone. Surely, he'll regret this sooner, rather than later, but for now, he lets you go. Homelander takes a step back, his eyes unfocused behind a dazed cloud, as he regards you with scrunched eyebrows. It's evident, by the way his breathing quickens, the way his movements are tense, still ready to pounce. The desire to tear, to get what he wants is strong as ever, and the darkness in his eyes should be terrifying. Would be terrifying, if you were anyone, but yourself. 

And still, there's nothing. Your hearbeat is steady, your breathing even, your blood lacks any familiar chemicals, which would indicate your dishevelled state. It's as if you're looking at his through the windows of a passing bus, like he's a fucking traffic sign stuck into concrete. Insignificant, a piece of the landscape no one thinks twice about. But then, before he has the chance to get offended, you shift again, knocking him off his rythm once more. 

When did your eyes start to sparkle like that, he's none the wiser, but he drinks up the sight like a man parched, his mouth opening just a little, tasting the air of you on his tongue. The ghost of a smile on your lips might as well be a trick of the light, but he wants to believe otherwise, and as you take a step closer to him, pushing yourself off the wall, his heart stops for a millisecond. 

- Thank you - you whisper, your breath hanging in the space between the two of you - For saving me.

He blinks. And then, you're gone, leaving his penthouse like nothing has happened, like this is exactly how the night was supposed to end. The click of the door behind you sounds so distant to his ears, as if he's being held under water, and he's left standing rigid, staring at the empty space on the wall, where your body pressed into just seconds ago. A myriad of emotions swirls within him, one darker than the other, and as if pushed by some invisible force, he approaches the wall, closing his eyes with a shudder. Images of you, your body, the softness underneath his fingertips, flood his mind, and one question still fights for an answer in his mind. He needs to know, needs to feel something, lest he follows right behind you and forces the solution right out of your lips. 

Your scent lingers long after you've left, and with the concentration of a mad scientist, he places his cheek against the cold marble, where your shoulder was mounted. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, and with a groan of unresolved tension, Homelander lets his tongue slip from between his teeth, laying flat on the polished surface. He licks a long stripe across, from one imaginary shoulder to the other, and can almost feel the ghost of you under each taste bud. 

Why did he let you go? What sort of a spell did you put on him, that he let you slip past his fingers, while he's still here, burning up with need? 

His hand tugs at the belt buckle, until it snaps off completely, clattering to the floor. Saliva smears down the surface of the wall, as he yanks down the lower part of his suit, immediately starting to hump his hand like a wild animal, mind clouded with what he wants, but can't seem to take. The marble wall steals the boiling heat right out of his body, and he presses harder against the unrelenting surface, fucking into his hand with reckless abandon. Words leave his lips in a messy jumble, nonsensical and broken. His eyes sting under his eyelids, and as he feels his peak come closer and closer, the heat inside his head becomes unbearable. 

With a frustrated, wanton growl, he comes hard all over the wall, his eyes snapping open, letting the deadly light out in full force. It collides with the marble, burning into it with ease for just a second, before he blinks it away, his body shaking from the intensity of his release. Pieces of rubble fall to the ground at his feet, dust covering the red leather of his boots. He's outgrown shame a long time ago, and with lips pursed in deep thought, he examines the demage he's done while lost in the moment. Placing his forehead right at the edge of the hole in the wall, he gathers his release on the tips of his fingers, pressing it further into the cracks in the marble.

This might be a bit harder to explain in the morning, he thinks to himslef with a huff of laughter. But, out of all the things he could've done, he guesses Stillwell would be happier to call for a renovation team, than have to explain to the higher-ups, and later the world, what happened to that bright-eyed Sidekick of his. 

A small mercy. A present, if you will, for both you and her. He shakes his head, finally stepping away from the destroyed wall. After all, it wasn't any spell, any sort of influence that made him let you flee back to the supposed safety of your room. It was his benevolence.

 Of course. He's the hero after all.  

[luxtoony]

BUSTED!

Part 2(soon) So I'm writing a little one shot where our lovely disasters catch each another sneaking off (or rather back to) the lair, and I wanted to draw a few scenes (how self-indulgent can you be?)

They are supposed to be younger than in the show so their outfits aren't full yet and Leo wears braces because I say so.

Also under the cut you have a lil sneak peak of my attempts at writing and a sliced version of the comic in case Tumblr destroys the quality.

They eyed each other like they usually did in a competitive occasion, which let's be honest, when it came to twins (disaster twins especially) could be any occasion really.

But this occasion was different. It was the middle of the night. Very close to morning actually, and the two teens stood like in a standoff. The (not so) funny thing was, that they both looked like they were just after one. The blue masked one squeezing his clearly bleeding forearm, while "Purple" didn't even pretend not to limp.

They stood trying to postpone the unavoidable talk that was bound to happen, from the moment they met at the entrance to the sewers. To be fair, at that moment they acted on autopilot,  greeting each other with a unassuming 'hi'. Their focus so devoted on eachs' pain and injury, yet vanishing the deeper they got to the familiar corridor and not so familiar realization. - it's about four in the morning and they busted each other sneaking off... or rather back.

After another maroon droplet hit the ground, Leo lost his patience and twitched, something Donnie took apparently as a good enough of an icebreaker.

"So." confrontation skills, dull as usually.

"Ya 've been in Jersey?" jokes as a coping skill, sharp as usually.

"Have you?" Unfortunately the joke didn't get him even an eyeroll, Donnie visibly too stressed to allow himself to put his guard down.  Well, Leo eyerolled for him.

[writingonleaves]

write me into your thoughts (i'll be safe with the words on the page) - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x amelie fishel (reckless driving au)

warnings: swearing, not proofread nearly enough lol, not much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: "on the page" by maggie rogers

word count: 15k

author's note: hi everyone! thank you for your patience. i had a wonderful time writing this one - it's always fun digging into jack and amelie's relationship. this is a part two, so if you haven't already, please read part one here! please let me know what you think and flood my inbox with all your thoughts!! worlds like this only come alive with you all, so any feedback you have, i'd love to hear it. i hope you enjoy❤️

taglist: @ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs (lmk if you wanna be added)

amelie

Their first official date happens later than both Amelie and Jack would’ve liked.

They have to postpone it twice. The first is because Amelie is assigned to cover an Islanders pre-season game last minute. The second is because Jack forgets that he has a thing with Hockey in New Jersey until the night before. Both of them wanted to get away in Prague with just each other for a few hours but it proved to be too complicated, both with the actual scheduling and wanting to keep it on the down low from the team, especially because they’re not really anything yet and she just started the job and he respects that.

The Devils had asked her to tag along with some of the guys even on their off day to compile some sort of photo collage. They didn’t really give her many instructions, so she took that as an invitation to be creative. She switched between disposable, digital and film and had a lot of fun doing it, tagging along as they did touristy things and enjoyed each other’s company during meals. 

At first, she was a bit intimidated at inserting herself into a group of guys who had just met. It took her the first full season of covering Michigan hockey before she even felt comfortable. But Curtis Lazar specifically took her in, introducing his family to her and treating her like an uncle would. Amelie just let the guys riff off each other while she snapped pictures whenever it felt right. Whatever she did, the team seemed to like, and that’s more than okay with her. 

(She got some awesome pictures of a few of them on film that she didn’t necessarily think are the best to put out to the public but she thinks they or their families might appreciate them. She saves those, and vows to herself to try to do that as much as she can, making sure that her love of photography doesn’t just boil down to her job. 

She has more than a few pictures of Jack, whether purposefully or not. They’ll be of use someday.)

The time they got to really let loose was the night after the second game, with everyone in high spirits after winning both games against Buffalo. Amelie had squeezed Seamus for an extra long time when she first saw him after the game and everyone was dressed to go out. 

Both of them being rookies as Wolverine alums. It’s kinda touching. At least, everyone else thinks it does. Amelie does too, really, but she’s just trying not to fuck up at her very new and very cool job. The sentimentality of it all hasn’t quite hit her yet.

She’s trying to ignore Jack’s eyes that seem to always be on her. Right now, she just needs to focus on Prague and then deal with whatever that is when they get back to Jersey. 

The day after the Devils home opener, she gets a text from Jack.

Jack Hughes

is today finally the day?

Amelie Fishel

i’m free! are you?

Jack Hughes

;)

just got out of morning skate 

lunch? and we can walk around after?

or would you rather do dinner?

Amelie Fishel

lunch sounds good

you want me to pick a place?

Jack Hughes

i got it 

11:30 okay? i’ll pick you up

Amelie Fishel

that’s perfect 

see you soon!!

Amelie swallows as she looks into her closet. It doesn’t really matter. Jack’s seen her going-out outfits as well as her lounging at home fits. But she wants to feel good and comfortable because she doesn’t really know what to expect.

She’s surprised Jack has seemed to be so receptive, even though she’s the one who messed it all up that July night. 

With a white sweater and black leggings on, she ties a black ribbon into her hair and takes a deep breath, just as her phone buzzes. 

Jack Hughes

what’s your apt #

Amelie Fishel

6A

She spritzes her perfume on just as she hears a knock on her door. She grabs her bag, slips on her boots and goes to open the front door. 

Amelie swallows as she opens the door. Jack looks up from his phone, quickly slips it into his pocket, and smiles sweetly. He’s wearing an olive green jacket over a white shirt, tucked into blue jeans. His curls look good and she takes a deep breath.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

“Hey.” She looks down at the singular pink tulip in his hand.

He clears his throat. “I, uh, walked past the floral shop like, a block away from here? And I just..thought of you.”

“Oh,” she mutters softly. “Thank you. Let me put it in a vase and then we’ll head out.”

“Yeah, of course,” he says. “Take your time.”

Amelie fetches a mason jar and cuts the stem so that it’s proportionate. After admiring it for a second as it sits on her kitchen table, she walks back to the door, making sure she has her keys. She debates reaching for his hand, but she doesn’t, as they walk towards the elevator. 

She notices that he leaves some distance between them as he leans his back against the wall. She must be giving him a look without realizing, because he lets out a nervous laugh. “What?”

“What?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re making me nervous.”

“How?”

“I don’t know!” She vaguely gestures. “Why are you so…quiet?”

He laughs, and she smiles at the sound. “Sorry,” he says genuinely. “I’m not trying to be…I just don’t wanna mess this up again.”

All humor washes away from Amelie’s face as her stomach churns, watching Jack fidget. “I’m the one that lied to you, Jack,” she says softly. “You have nothing to make up for.”

“Maybe,” he admits. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t do things wrong either. I wanna do it right this time. I’m sorry if I’m being weird.”

She can’t take it anymore, scooting herself closer to him and intertwining their hands together. Immediately, he squeezes them.

This might be their first official date. But she thinks she’s been his for awhile now, Even when they weren’t talking. 

In hindsight, Amelie knew that lying to Jack, even if it was only for a few days, was the wrong move the second she did it. It took talking to her sisters, some friends and fucking Ethan Edwards for her to stop beating herself up about it so much and focus on moving forward and making it better (“if that’s something you want to do,” Ethan had added over the phone when she was close to hyperventilating. “You have endless chances to make up for lying. It’s obvious he still cares about you. You just need to do something about it. He’d forgive you in a heartbeat, Ami.”) 

She had convinced herself that Jack wouldn’t want to hear her out, and that working adjacent with his team would just be filled with polite exchanges and nothing more. But then they locked eyes at Media Day and he caught her trying to get herself together and told her that he’d always say yes to her, whatever the fuck that means. 

They’re walking out to the parking lot when Jack tugs their hands to a light stop in front of his car. He opens the passenger seat door, but pauses. She turns to him in confusion. 

“You okay?” He asks, eyebrows pinched in concern. “I lost you for a bit.”

She tries to smile convincingly. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Amelie, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he swallows. “If you-”

“No,” she says firmly, slipping into the seat. She’s not gonna let misunderstandings come between them again. “I want to do this. I’m just…freaking out a bit?”

He starts the engine before turning towards her. “Yeah, yeah. I get that. It’s just me though.”

She huffs. Because that’s partially the problem. She changes the subject. “Where are we going?”

“Clee likes this place called Elysian Cafe? I think it’s French.”

Amelie hums. “Sounds good.” She looks over to him. “Who knows this is happening?”

“The date?”

“Yeah.”

“Luke and Clee, obviously. Quinn. Probably Nico through Clee. Or me. I probably mentioned it to him. Why?”

She shrugs. “Just want to know what I’m working with.”

“Who knows on your end?”

“Just Col and Char,” she chuckles slightly at the memory. “They’re the ones who convinced me to try again in the first place.”

“Then I know who I have to thank,” Jack smiles. “You-I hope that’s okay that I told them?”

She shrugs. “They’re your siblings. Or dating one of them. I wouldn’t have any right to feel upset, especially because I did the same thing.”

“But you work with two of them.”

Right. Yeah. Part of the reason they had their whole misunderstanding in the summer. She takes a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m trying to get over that hump for myself. But it’s not something neither of us can control, I guess.”

He becomes quiet, before, “I’m sorry I didn’t understand that before, like, why that mattered so much to you.”

She blinks as they wait at a light, the turn signal flicking being their only soundtrack. “That’s okay. I lied to you, so we were both in the wrong.”

“But you did it for good reason and I didn’t see that at the time,” he runs a hand through his hair. 

Amelie swallows down any doubt and leans over to kiss Jack lightly on the cheek. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

One side of his lips quirk up into his signature smirk. Amelie doesn’t even roll her eyes. “So how’s the start of the job been? Busy?”

“Very,” she settles back in the seat. “But good. Media day was nuts, as you saw. Prague was really fun. Pre-season was good but crazy. I’m sure I’ll get used to it soon.”

“Have you been able to explore Jersey much? Or go into Manhattan?”

“Not really,” she admits. “When I do have free time I’ve been unpacking and sleeping. I’m on duty for the Rangers when you guys are on the road trip though so maybe I’ll have more time to explore the city then if I’m not too tired.”

He pouts slightly. “What am I supposed to be telling everyone? That my girlfriend works for the enemy?”

“I work for your team too, loser,” she shoots back, before hesitating. “Girlfriend’s a bit presumptuous, no?”

“It is,” he admits. “But I’m hoping by the end of this date and however many more that I can make it an easier decision for you.”

Amelie’s half stunned at his boldness. But then she remembers that they have kissed multiple times. It just feels different without the fragility of summer and Michigan. It feels different in New Jersey. Almost forbidden. But she knows those are just boundaries she’s put up all on her own.

She tries to push that down. She can’t keep getting lost in her own head. Jack’s right here. “How about you? Season starting out okay? Is that a stupid question?”

He chuckles. “Season’s good, I think. Prague was definitely very fun. I don’t know. You don’t wanna look too ahead, you know? Just focus on the next few games. Work on what you need to work on.”

Amelie can’t help but snort. “Very diplomatic of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you spit that out to a journalist earlier?”

He sputters, “You asked!”

She chuckles. “I know.”

When they reach the restaurant, they’re not even sitting down at their table yet when Amelie’s skin prickles up. She can feel someone watching them. She’s proven right when a young teenager politely asks for a picture right after they get seated. The interaction takes all of 30 seconds but Jack looks so apologetic afterwards.

“I’m sorry,” he says after the boy walks away. 

“It’s all good,” she replies sincerely before grinning with a light shrug. “I know you’re a big deal.”

“Still. I don’t-”

“Jack,” he shuts up immediately, looking at her like she’s the only person in the world. “It’s fine. I promise.” They both thank the waiter as he fills up their glasses. “How is everyone? Luke and Quinn and Clementine and all them.”

“They’re good,” he says, automatically more at ease talking about his family. “I mean, you see Luke so you know. Quinn seems to be doing well up there with the Canucks. Just start of the season stuff. And Clee’s good. Really busy at the hospital so I’ve barely seen her, to be honest.”

“Do you like living with them?”

“I love it,” he replies honestly. “Living with both of them is like, I don’t know. It feels like childhood again. But we’re all grown up and not as stupid as before. Well, me and Luke. Clee’s always been smart. But no, it’s fun living with them. I’m not sure how long it’ll be until Clee moves out so I’ll take what I can get.”

“She’s moving out?”

Jack shrugs. They both order — mussels to share for an appetizer, a burger for him and fish tacos for her. He waits until the waiter walks away. “She hasn’t said anything yet. But her and Nico are getting pretty serious. I mean, I guess they’ve only been dating for, like, 6 months, but I could see her moving in with him sooner rather than later.”

She hums. “How do you feel about that? Like, them being together. It has to be a bit weird, right?”

“It can be,” he drums his fingers on the table. “Last season, I joked a lot about it. But then it actually happened and it was like, woah, my older sister is now dating my captain and two parts of my life are combining in a way that it hasn’t before. But they’re pretty good at like, the separation I guess. Not that-I really like them together. I think they’re actually really good for each other. He calms her down and she knocks some sense into his head.” He chuckles and Amelie realizes how much she loves that sound. “I would’ve introduced them earlier if I’d known how good they would be together.”

“I can’t imagine living with either of my sisters, to be honest, even if I love them.”

“Why is that?”

“I think I need my own space.”

He hums, and before she can overthink about how that may come across, he switches topics. “So what did you get up to the rest of the summer?”

Overthinking about how I left things with you is the honest answer, but they don’t need to get into that. “Not much, I guess. Packed. Hung around. Saw some friends. Went to a concert.”

“Who did you see?”

“I don’t know if you know her. Lizzy McAlpine?”

“I don’t. Text me some of your favorite songs from her later. I’ll listen to them.”

She chuckles. “I don’t really think it’s your type of music.”

“What’s your favorite song by her?”

“Uh uh,” she teases with a wry smile. “You don’t get to have that information yet.”

“I’ll earn it,” he says, a bit too seriously for their topic of conversation. “So, concerts. You know, everyone usually comes by to New York City. I’m sure you’ll be able to catch some people there.”

“You an expert on NYC?”

Jack shrugs. “Not really, considering, you know, all this. But when we have a few days off I like to go in. I have some spots I enjoy a lot.”

“We should go in sometime and you can show me your spots.”

His lips spread slowly into a grin. “Yeah?”

She nods, looking down at her lap. “Yeah. Whenever I get my feet under me.”

“It seems like you’re handling everything just fine,” he says.

Amelie lets out a laugh as she leans back. “I’m really good at faking it.”

“Luke misses you.”

“I just saw him yesterday.”

“No, I know, but like, just hanging out with you. He’s started bugging me about the three of us hanging out like we did in Michigan.”

“We’re not in Michigan anymore.”

“Sure, but what’s the difference?”

She’s saved from answering as their food comes. 

Lunch is delicious and fun and light and Jack is exactly how she remembers from the summer, even if the October chill is settling in and they’re not in the MIchigan sunshine anymore. Seeing Jack against the windows of a cafe in Hoboken, looking at ease, at her, nothing has changed between them. But also, so many things have. 

She wishes she could fully enjoy and let go of … whatever has been in her gut since she hid her sobs in her hand at her grandparents’ house. Jack has been doing everything right and she’s trying to enjoy herself. 

(She’s scared)

They decide to walk around for a bit after they eat, not wanting to leave each other’s company quite yet. They’re walking through a park and admiring the empty fountain when Jack laughs. 

“Uh oh.” 

She’s confused. “What?”

Jack chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know. You look like you’re about to say something that you don’t think I’m gonna like.”

She blinks. Fuck. “Am I that obvious?”

“No,” he admits. “Lucky guess. Or maybe I just know you. Spill. What’s going on in that pretty head?”

She stares at her shoes.  Be brave, she tells herself. “Can you-can we take this slow? I-I know that we aren’t really starting from step one but I-I,” she trails off, trying to steady her voice.

“Hey,” he mutters softly, pulling her to the side of the path so they don’t block people. “I was kidding earlier about the girlfriend stuff. I don’t care about that. I care about you and whatever pace you want to go at. Or no pace if that’s something you also want to do.”

“And you’d be okay with no pace at all?”

She stares at his adam's apple bopping up and down. “If that’s what you wanted. I’m obviously not, not gonna force you into anything you don’t want to be in. I’m not that much of an asshole.” He chuckles weakly. 

She realizes suddenly that Jack actually thinks there’s a chance of her turning him down. A chance of her saying she doesn’t want anything to do with him, which is definitely not the case. She knows she wants him. She just doesn’t know what that looks like yet, which is why:

“We can take it slow?” She asks. 

“Whatever pace you want,” he assures. “Whatever you want.”

“And the team?”

“What about the team?”

“Well, they’ll have to know, right? I might not work for the Devils directly but there’s a conflict of interest there.”

“They don’t have to know anything,” he assures. “Definitely not yet. Once they do, we’ll figure it out together.”

She bites her lip, because yeah, that sounds nice, but he’s untouchable in the grand scheme of things. She’s much more disposable in comparison. “Jack.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” he repeats. “I promise.”

And promises have never really meant much to Amelie. But the look in Jack’s eyes is so comforting and insistent that she can’t do anything but believe him.

*****

jack

It’s getting colder now, as it does in early to mid October in Jersey. Jack rubs his hands together as he locks his car. He has the day off today after playing the Caps last night and Amelie also has the day off. The plan is to spend a day in New York City. He hasn’t heard from her this morning, which is a bit unusual, but that doesn’t phase him as he enters the elevator and then stops in front of Amelie’s apartment. 

Three crisp knocks and he’s shoving his hands in his coat pockets and rocking back and forth. It takes upwards to a minute before the door is cracked open. The automatic smile on his face quickly drops into a concerned frown when he sees her. 

“Are you okay?” 

Amelie, hair messed up, in a Michigan t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, responds with three consecutive sneezes. “Shit,” she sniffles. “I thought I texted you.”

He closes the door behind him and lets himself in her apartment. “What happened?”

“Woke up feeling like crap,” she coughs into her elbow. “Coughing, sneezing, a bit of a sore throat. I think it’s a bad cold.”

“So no frolicking to the city, I assume?” He jokes lightly. 

Her shoulders deflate. “I’m sorry. I was really looking forward to it..”

“No stress,” he assures gently. He untangles her crossed arms and squeezes her fingers gently. “Go lay down on the couch.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Huh?”

“Do you have things in the kitchen to make soup?”

“No?” She blinks. “I was supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

He hums. “Okay. I’ll run to the store. Do you have medicine?”

She blinks again, her brain catching up. “You don’t have to stay. You’ll get sick.”

“I’m staying. Do you have medicine?” He repeats. She nods. He presses a kiss on her forehead, another wave of concern washing over him as he notes how clammy it is. “Hang tight, baby. I’ll be back soon.”

“You really don’t have to stay.”

“I want to,” Jack swallows. “If you really want me to go, I will. But you’re not feeling well, and I’d like to help out.”

A few seconds of silence before Amelie nods, rubbing her nose. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Anytime. I’ll be quick.”

It takes 30 minutes for Jack to grab ingredients from the note on his Notes app for a basic chicken noodle soup recipe that his mom sent him way back in his rookie year, some cough drops, extra cold medicine, and call Clementine in a panic to check that he isn’t forgetting anything (“She probably just needs to sleep it off,” Clementine says, traces of Nico’s voice in the background). Jack had grabbed Amelie’s keys from her counter when he left so he lets himself back in quietly, finding Amelie laying down on the couch. 

“Hey,” he announces himself with a soft voice. Amelie just lets out something between a groan and a sigh. “That bad?”

“No. I’m just being dramatic,” she pouts, scrolling through Netflix. “I wanna watch something but I know what. Do you have a preference?”

Jack starts unpacking the bag in her kitchen. “You’re the one who’s sick. I’m fine with whatever.”

“Have you ever seen La La Land?”

“I have not.”

“Of course you haven’t. We’re watching it. It’s my comfort movie.”

“Gimme, like, 15 minutes?” He asks. “I need to prepare the soup.”

“Sure,” she yawns. “I should probably take a shower.”

“You’ll definitely feel better.”

She lets her hair out of her hair tie. “Just tell me I look like shit next time.”

He gives her a look, shaking his head. “You never look like shit.”

Amelie scoffs lightly with a small smile, getting off the couch. “Sure, Jack.”

“Shoo,” he flicks his hand. “Delicious chicken noodle soup coming to you soon.”

17 minutes later, the soup is simmering on the stove and Amelie walks back out with damp hair. She coughs heartily and winces, coming to the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of water. “It smells good.”

Jack almost beams. “Thanks. An Ellen Weinberg-Hughes specialty.”

She hums. “Movie time?”

“Well, it’s one of your favorites. So we have to.”

When they get to the couch and Amelie presses play, he hesitates. He wants to put an arm around her and let her snuggle against his side, but he doesn’t want her to be uncomfortable. As the opening number starts, he doesn’t have to overthink it any longer, because she pulls the blanket over both of them and leans the side of her head against his shoulder. He swears she can feel the smile on his face when he kisses her temple. 

Two hours later, two empty bowls are on the table in front of them, there are tear streaks on Amelie’s face and Jack is a bit confused. “That’s your comfort movie?”

“Yeah. Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he blinks. “I’m just saying that it seems pretty sad to be a movie that comforts you.”

She shrugs. “It’s sad, but it’s also life. And it’s beautiful. And it’s about moments and how sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be. It’s realistic.”

He hums in affirmation. “Not a dreamer, eh?”

“I wish I was more of one,” she admits. “Sometimes I feel like I’m limiting myself because I don’t want to dream too big because I feel like I’ll inevitably be disappointed.”

“I don’t think you could disappoint anyone,” he rushes out. 

“It’s not about what other people think,” she says with a light cough, staring ahead at the TV. “It’s about what I think of myself.”

And, well, yeah. Jack knows that feeling all too well. 

“You’re doing awesome, you know?” He says, trying to offer some encouragement as they face each other, knees barely touching. “I mean, I’m not going to pretend I understand every aspect of your job, but I’ve heard from Josh and, just from seeing how hard you work and how much you care about it, especially because you’re new…don’t stress out about it. You’re doing great.”

“You think?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.”

“You don’t sound so sure,” he teases. 

One side of her lips quirk up, as she tilts her head to the side in thought. “I guess it wasn’t really my professional life I was talking about with the whole dreamer question.”

“So your personal life?”

“Yeah. I don’t know. La La Land is so heartbreaking but it’s also, at its core, a story about love and dreams and…” She trails off, avoiding eye contact with him. 

Jack swallows. Guess he’ll be the brave one. “So you’re a romantic.”

“Is that surprising?”

“A bit. But not in a bad way.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever let myself really believe that I am one, if that makes sense.” It doesn’t, but she pays him no mind, a furrow in her eyebrow indicating that she’s piecing her thoughts together. “I think for awhile, I just convinced myself it wouldn’t ever amount to anything. So instead of ever, I don’t know, thinking that I would find someone who really just likes me for me in that way, I figured no one ever would. Which sucks, because I’ve always wanted that.”

He wants to say so much, but nothing comes out of his mouth except for an affirming hum. “The movie was great.”

She blinks, a smile spreading on her face. “You think?”

“Yeah. But you should sleep,” he tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I’m surprised you didn’t conk out during.”

Her lips turn into a pout, “I usually would fight you, but I don’t have the strength.”

“Bed or couch?”

She yawns, already leaning her head on a pillow. “I’m not moving.” Before Jack can think about what he’s going to do, she makes grabby hands in his direction. “Nap time.”

“Me too?”

“You have other places to be?” She asks, eyes already closed. 

He tucks himself next to her and pulls the blanket over them both. “Nowhere but here.”

(“Thanks for coming today,” Amelie says hours later, leaning her hip against the doorway as Jack’s about to head home. It’s already 10 p.m., and he has practice tomorrow morning. 

“Do you feel better?” He asks. She nods. “Then that’s all that matters.”

“But what if you wake up tomorrow and you’re sick? Still gonna like me then?”

And he knows she’s half-teasing, but he ducks down to leave a lingering kiss on her cheek. “Of course.”

She hums, rubbing her eyes. “And thanks for the soup. I’m gonna have enough to last me for days.”

“That was the idea.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Am I gonna see you Friday?”

“Unless I get worse, then I should be there,” she nods, before wrapping her arms around his waist. “See you later.”

“Bye, babe.”

“Wait,” he turns back around as she leans her head on the doorway. “‘Staying.’”

“Hm?”

“That’s my favorite Lizzy McAlpine song. Or one of them.”

“‘Staying?’ That’s what it’s called?” She nods. He tucks that into the back of his mind. “Okay. I’ll let you know what I think.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

“Night.”)

amelie

It’s been a crazy month of ups and downs, but Amelie isn’t lying when she tells her family that she loves her job. 

Sometimes she feels a bit out of her element, like when she can’t get a good angle on a shot no matter how hard she tries or when the dynamics of being a part of a professional sports organization (and sometimes, with the teams she covers, it feels like multiple organizations in one) are harder to figure out than usual. But then the familiar sounds of a game flood through her ears and she reaches up to touch the ribbon in her hair — switching between red, orange or blue depending on what team she’s shooting — and she takes a deep breath and feels okay again. 

More often than not, if she’s at the Rock, she catches Jack’s eye, or a glimpse of his hair, or even just the 86 and it brings her a sense of calm. 

They don’t interact that much at work besides hellos and some stolen short conversations here or there. She’s usually busy running around during pre-game and then he’s playing when they’re actually in the same proximity. 

She has a moment after shooting an Islanders game and then getting the notification that Jack had just scored in a game against Colorado in their arena. Before she leaves the parking lot, she clicks on Jack’s contact anyways, waiting to leave a voicemail. 

“Hey, uh, congrats on the goal. Unsure if you win since the game is tied as I’m calling, but hope you guys pull it out. I don’t really know why I’m calling, to be honest. I was just thinking about you. I think we both have a day off right when you get back to Jersey, and I was wondering, if maybe you’d wanna go into Manhattan finally? Let me know. I’ll see you when you get back. Okay, bye.”

(She wakes up the next day to see she has a missed call and a voicemail from Jack

“Hey Baby. I guess I could’ve waited to call you in the morning but I didn’t want to wait. We won, by the way. And yeah, I’m totally down to go into the city when we both have a minute. I, uh, we’ll catch up when I get back. But it was really nice to hear your voice, even if just over a voicemail. Have a good day. Bye.”)

They don’t get to go to Manhattan when Jack comes back, because Amelie is asked to fill in last minute for a Flyers game. She feels like she’s more bummed about it than Jack is. Or at least outwardly. In fact, after that voicemail, they don’t really get a chance to talk until four days later, when Jack catches her at The Rock before the game against Washington.

He grabs her arm lightly and leads them to a small alcove. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she can’t help but smile. “Good skate this morning?”

“Good as can be. Bummed we couldn’t go into the city the other day.”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he hesitates, before: “Hey. What plans do you have after the game tonight?”

“Nothing?”

“Come over to mine after,” she opens her mouth but he barrels on. “Clee’s working late and Luke won’t bother us. I just, I don’t know. I feel like we haven’t been able to see each other. And you have to head over to MSG tomorrow afternoon, right? We can grab breakfast somewhere, then.” 

Amelie opens and closes her mouth two times. “You don’t think it’s too soon for me to stay over?”

His eyes widen. “Shit. I didn’t even-I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t-I wasn’t, like, I don’t expect anything. I can sleep on the couch. I just figured it would make it more convenient because we’ve been missing out on seeing each other lately. I’m gonna be tired after the game anyways and I was thinking we could just put something on TV or-”

“Okay.”

He blinks. “Okay?”

She nods before she can back out. “Yeah. I have an overnight bag in my car in case I ever get stranded somewhere and need to crash.”

“You sure?”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “You brought it up first, Jack. You backing out now?”

“No, of course not. But the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” 

“It’s fine,” she says. And it is, really. But now that’s all she’s going to be thinking about for the rest of the day. “Seriously. It’s good. Your bed better be comfortable.”

He barks out a laugh. “It is. Great. I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll be around. Good luck.” With one last smile, he ducks out of alcove. She takes a breath, tugging at her jacket, before making her way out as well. 

Kennedy, another photographer that strictly works with the Devils that Amelie’s become fast friends with, chuckles. “You’re not slick.”

Amelie lets out a small scream, before rolling her eyes. “Fuck, Kenny! A warning next time would be nice. And it’s not anything.”

Kennedy snorts as they both walk down the hallway. “Yeah, sure.”

“No, seriously, it’s just…we’re figuring it out.”

The older girl softens. “Hey, I was just making a joke. It’s none of my business. You guys are adults.”

“It’s something,” Amelie admits. “But I just don’t quite know what yet.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Kennedy assures. “I’ve known Jack longer than I’ve known you. I know you’ll figure it out. Now, Candace just brewed a fresh pot of coffee and we need to grab some before everyone comes in.”

They’re almost too late, because Coach Keefe has just poured out his cup and Kennedy rushes over to take the carafe out of his hand as he laughs. One day Amelie will get the confidence to do that. 

“How are you settling in?” He asks Amelie kindly as Kennedy hands her a mug.

“Pretty well,” she says. “Still trying to get used to the chaos of the season but it’s been great and everyone’s been awesome.”

“I imagine that’s even more difficult when you have a bunch of schedules to balance.”

“It can get tricky,” she shrugs with a smile. “Keeps the job fresh though.”

“I bet.” A few seconds of comfortable silence sipping their respective coffees before Coach continues. “You went to the University of Michigan, right? I think I’ve seen you wearing that maize M around.”

“I did.”

“My niece is a junior in high school and thinking about doing something with sports, whether it’s business or photography or communications, probably because she’s been surrounded by the ice her whole life,” Coach Keefe laughs. “Earlier this season, Luke was talking to her about Michigan and I think he got her hooked.”

Amelie has to laugh at that. Classic Luke. “Well, I’d be happy talking to her if she wants a perspective from someone who wasn’t an athlete.”

“Would you really? I’m sure she would appreciate that.”

“Yeah, totally,” she fishes out a business card. “She can text me anytime. No promises I’ll respond too quickly, but I will as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Amelie. Truly.”

“Of course, Coach.”

He turns back to Kennedy and jokes. “You must hate her, huh?”

Kennedy, who went to Ohio State, rolls her eyes. “With her, Shea and Luke, I feel constantly outnumbered here.”

“Don’t forget Jack,” Coach Keefe said. 

“Oh, we don’t,” Kennedy chuckles. Amelie simultaneously wants to roll her eyes at her unsubtly and slap her shoulder. Instead, she settles with a look, to which Kennedy pointedly ignores. 

After morning skate and editing what she needs to edit, Amelie heads to the grocery store for a quick run before stopping by at home to relax for a bit. She decides at the last minute to grab a bouquet of mums to put in her kitchen. After unloading her groceries, she tries to tidy up around her apartment but ultimately gives up, collapsing down on the couch. She has around an hour to kill before needing to get redressed to head back into the rink. 

What does she do with that hour? Lounge around on her couch and pick up the latest book she’s reading. A memoir that AJ, the head of Devils socials, recommended. She hasn’t read as much as she used to, due to everything changing, but snuggling into her couch even just for a little to flip pages in a book calms her down. 

When it’s time to go, she’s about to walk out the door before she stops herself, heading to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. That seems reasonable to give to Jack who’s inviting her over as a thank you gift, right? 

After the game, that’s when she starts getting nervous. She edits the photos she needs to, sends them to Josh, the guy in charge of Devils media, and then lingers. She drove here, but she doesn’t wanna beat Jack to his place. She starts drumming her fingers against her desk, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. She knows he also got tagged for doing media tonight too, which explains why he’s taking a bit longer. 

“Hey.”

She practically jumps out of her seat, putting her hand over her heart. “Jesus, Jack.”

“Jumpy,” he comments with a smirk before leaning against the door frame. “You good to go?”

“Yeah. Was just waiting for you.”

He grimaces. “Yeah. I should’ve given you my keys so you could chill at mine instead of here. Sorry.”

She stands up, gathering her things. “It’s fine. Can you send me your address again? I think I know where it is but I wanna make sure.”

They walk out together. People are milling about but no one questions anything. Amelie doesn’t know how she feels about that. Her phone buzzes, indicating Jack texted her his address. She’s parked on the other side of the garage but he walks her to her car anyways with a shrug, but it means a lot to her. She follows him easily to his apartment, the GPS guiding her along the way and when she parks right next to him, he somehow beats her to her own door and opens it for her. 

“Thanks,” she says quietly, getting her overnight backpack from her backseat. “Do you mind if I bring my camera bag into yours? I don’t want them to get cold or-”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he grins, tie thrown over his shoulder and dress shirt wrinkled. He looks so handsome. “You’re not you without your cameras. You want me to grab something?”

“I’m good, thanks,” she says, locking her car. “Good game.”

“You think?”

“You got two assists and a few shot good attempts at goal,” she says with a furrowed eyebrow. “I’d consider that good, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just, I didn’t think you paid attention that much.”

She nudges his hip with hers as the elevator pings for each floor. “It’s kinda part of my job.”

“Is it?” He shoots back. She just rolls her eyes. “Have you eaten yet?” He asks. 

“A bit. Have you?”

“A bit,” he echoes. “I was gonna roast some veggies and make some rice. I think I have leftover chicken. Unless you want something else? Clee probably has a bunch of stuff in the fridge that we-”

“That sounds perfect,” she interrupts him. “I’m good with anything. Promise.” She waits for him to unlock his front door. “Do you mind if I jump in the shower first?”

“Not at all,” he swings upon the door. “You can just leave your stuff in the living room. Bathroom is the second door down the hall to the right.”

She quickly rummages through to grab her toiletry bag and her pajamas. “Do you have a towel I could borrow, by chance?”

“Of course. We have a bunch in the closet in there. Take any one you see.” She nods in thanks before heading to the bathroom. 

After towling her hair dry and tossing on an UW Madison sweater on she stole at some point from Colette ages ago, she pads out. Jack’s in the kitchen, back towards her, humming as he squats to check on the veggies in the oven. He’s changed out of his suit and has a Devils sweatshirt on now with gray sweatpants. His hair is damp from the shower he must’ve taken at the rink. 

He catches her staring, but to her gratitude, doesn’t say anything. She lifts up the bottle of wine she got from her bag. “I don’t know if you’re allowed to have this during the season but…”

“One glass won’t hurt,” he grins. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“You invited me into your home,” she comes over to the kitchen and takes the bottle opener from his hands. “I’m not an animal.”

Dinner is simple, but it’s delicious, and in the last hours of the evening with dim lighting, both their voices are low. At some point, Luke comes out for a glass of water, entering and leaving in a flash with a salute. That should feel weird, but it doesn’t. The not-quite-a-couple-yet couple catch each other up on their days and lives and Amelie feels a ball of warmth in her stomach. 

It’s as if the clinking of Jack washing dishes — he literally whacked her hands when she tried to help — brings her out of her reverie. She waits until he’s done and sitting next to her again before:

“Hey Jack?”

In the middle of sipping his wine, Jack raises an eyebrow. He places his glass down and leans his elbows on the counter, giving her his full attention. “What’s up?”

She tries to stop fiddling with her hands, folding them on the counter. “Are-are you seeing anyone else?”

Silence, and then a soft, disbelieving, “What?”

Her mouth starts moving faster than her brain. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. Nor would I blame you, to be honest. I mean, I’m the one who’s been moving so slow and setting the boundaries and the pace and like, I get it. But-”

“I haven’t been seeing anyone else since we met.”

Her mouth snaps shut. “You-”

“I haven’t even been remotely interested in anyone else since I saw you and Suzie at the end of my driveway,” he says, eyes steadily staring into her, unflinchingly honest. “Even when you haven’t been sure about me. Even though you’re still not sure about me. Even when we had our argument. My feelings haven’t changed.”

Amelie suddenly feels ashamed. “Oh.”

One side of his lips quirk up. “Yeah. Have you been seeing anyone else?” Before she can control herself, she snorts. Jack pouts slightly. It’s cute. “What?”

“I barely have time to see you. In what world would I be seeing anyone else?”

“Hey,” he puts his hands up in defense. “I don’t know what you’re doing when I’m on the road.”

She shakes her head, staring down at her nails. “Nope. No one else.”

“Then that settles it.” Something flashes through his eyes and he rounds the corner, hoisting himself to sit on the counter. His leg brushes her side. “I’m sorry for not making that clear.”

“I’m sorry for being psycho and possessive.”

He tuts softly. “You’re not being either of those things.”

Her eyes glaze over, unfocused, as her mind takes her elsewhere. “It took three months for Cooper and I to officially get together because he was still dating around after our first date. Which was fine. It really didn’t bother me at the time. But-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Jack assures. “But no. There’s been no one else for me.”

She swallows, busying herself by pouring herself out a glass of water before coming to stand inbetween his legs. She leans her forehead on his chest because she doesn’t wanna look at him when she asks her next question. “How much did Ethan tell you?”

“About Cooper?”

“Yeah.”

“Enough.” She picks her head up as he lightly rubs circles on her wrist. 

“Did he tell you why we broke up?”

“Not directly,” he leans his forehead on hers momentarily. “I’d like to hear your answer to that though, if you’d be willing.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, and chokes out, “He got tired of me.”

“I’m sure he-”

“He told me, word for word, that he got tired of me. Tired of waiting. For what? I have no fucking idea.” And fuck, it’s been well over a year since she blocked his number, but she can’t recall the breakup out loud without a crack in her voice. “Apparently he’d ‘wasted’ a year of his time on a relationship that had long run its course.”

“And had it?” Jack asks gently. “Had it run its course?”

“Maybe. But it wasn’t fair to me that he didn’t even give me a chance to fix it.”

He nods stiffly, before, “Absolute jackass.”

“Definitely,” she hoists herself up on the counter to sit next to him, careful to not spill any wine. “When we broke up, it wasn’t like I didn’t see it coming. Things were kinda rough for a month or so beforehand. But I didn’t expect for it to hurt so much. I-I felt, just, really sad. Kinda betrayed. Pretty angry. I definitely didn’t think it would fuck up my perspective on relationships as much as it did.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

She almost brushes off his apology, staring unfocused into his living room. “I wish I didn’t feel this way. But when I met you, one of the first things I thought was that it wouldn’t move past the summer because what was the point? You would get tired of me eventually.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I know that sounds ridiculous and whiny and it’s not true, but it’s hard for my brain to believe that. If I wasn’t enough for Cooper when we were in school and just dealt with that schedule, what would happen between you and I with our schedules and careers? That’s ultimately why I shut you down in the summer, I think. But also, fuck, Cooper was kinda an ass.”

He cuts in with a loud snort, “Clearly.”

She whacks his shoulder lightly, before letting out a sigh. “You know, he showed up at a party I was at a week later with another girl.”

“Yeah. Ethan mentioned that.”

“Right. It was a hockey party.” She squeezes her eyes shut, as if that will erase her memory. “I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like this, but I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my skin and also scream my lungs out and lock myself in the bathroom and never come out. It kinda fucking sucks seeing a guy you thought you loved and loved you suddenly just throw it all away like it meant nothing. Because if he could do that so easily, who’s to say the next one won’t?” She downs the last of her wine, sighing deeply. “I’m working on remembering that I want to be in a relationship and I deserve it, but it’s really hard. I don’t blame you if you don’t wanna stick around as I’m trying to figure it out.”

Jack hops off the counter, this time stepping between her legs. She bites her lip in anticipation as he takes her hands and intertwines them, looking her dead in the eye. “Amelie. I really, really like you. Like, I-still-get-nervous-for-a-second-before-I-see-you like you. Or, I-can’t-believe-you’re-even-giving-me-a-chance like you. I’m here. I want to be here. As long as you’ll let me hang around, I will. You don’t have to be afraid to be honest with me about where you’re at. I won’t ever hold that against you.”

“But-”

“Staying, right? Your favorite Lizzy McAlpine song?”

She tilts her head in confusion. “Yeah?”

“I listened to it.”

“Okay?”

“If you’re afraid that I’m gonna just leave when my feelings suddenly disappear, which they won’t, I’m not going to do that. I’m not Cooper, okay? I’m not gonna fuck around for a month before deciding if you mean something to me, because I know what you mean to me. And I want to be here when you’re trying to figure it out. When we’re trying to figure it out, to be honest. You think I know how to be in a relationship?” He laughs at himself. “I’m bound to fuck it up somehow, probably many times, but I’m not just gonna leave when I do. I’m sticking around. I’ll stay and figure it out with you to the point where you’ll probably find me annoying. I’m not just gonna leave when things get hard.”

“But how can you promise that?”

He shrugs with a wry and somewhat defeated smile. “I can’t, I guess. You just have to trust my word.”

And to Amelie, weirdly enough, that’s the answer she was looking for. Cooper made so many empty promises. Jack’s unabashedly unsure of everything yet isn’t leaving her in the dark. 

She squeezes his hands. “I trust you.”

His swallow is visible. “Yeah?” He rasps out.

“Yeah.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I’m sorry if that hasn’t come across.”

He shrugs, planting his hands on either side of her on the counter. “Don’t be. Part of the gig, isn’t it? Earning your trust. And I’m having the best time.”

She scoffs. “It’s not annoying?”

His signature charming smile is back as he lets out a breathy laugh. “I don’t know if you really understand the effect you have on me.”

She wants to kiss him so bad. She doesn’t, nudging him away so she can hop off the counter. “You tired?”

“Aren’t I always?”

“You choose what we watch,” she says, poking his shoulder.

He brightens up. “Cuddles?”

She rolls her eyes, but opens her arms when she collapses on the couch. Jack doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her waist, humming in satisfaction. 

(At 1:26 a.m. Clementine walks into the living room to see the sight of both Jack and Amelie asleep on the couch, his arm securely around her waist so she doesn’t fall off, their feet both dangling off the edge. She quietly clicks off the TV, adjusts the blanket so it covers both their bodies completely and takes their empty glasses to bring to the kitchen. 

She takes a second to watch them — in a non-creepy way at all — from the dimly lit kitchen. Amelie and Jack’s chest rise and fall in unison and even when Amelie adjusts herself, Jack’s arm tightens on instinct to keep them from falling. 

Clementine smiles to herself before tiptoeing to her bedroom)

~*~*~

jack

Jack doesn’t like feeling out of his element. And when it comes to Amelie, he feels like he has no fucking clue what he’s doing, even if he fakes it well. So that’s great.

He gets to the rink, and that’s old hat. Many things have changed, but at the end of the day, it’s still hockey. Blades to the ice is a feeling as natural as walking. 

But now, knowing that some games, Amelie is more or less watching. It doesn’t distract him perse, but he definitely takes note, trying to subtly find her when he’s on the bench. It’s become a fun game for him. Sometimes, her red ribbon is easy to find. Sometimes, he thinks she’s hiding from him. 

For Jack, not putting a label has been a bit difficult, because he’s always been the kind of person who needs to categorize things in some way, more for his own brain than anything. But at the same time, it also doesn’t matter to him that they’re not official. To him, they are, and that’s how he approaches all his actions. The dating apps from his phone are long gone. When he’s not thinking about hockey, he’s thinking about her. He’s trying not to be too overbearing while also not letting Amelie even question the possibility of him not being all in. 

When he was crying in his bedroom back home in Michigan, this seemed so far out of his reach. But now Amelie’s here (her apartment is only a few miles away, even) and he’d be damn stupid if he let this go. 

He’s never been in a relationship — or whatever this is — where coordinating both their schedules has been both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because not only does she understand, but their schedules overlap a good amount. A curse because her schedule is so unique covering many teams and even if he’s free, it doesn’t mean she is and vice versa. They’re only a few weeks into the season and it’s already becoming hard to find a few hours in their days to go do something. 

Everything is at her pace. He wants to be sure that she knows that he takes that seriously and he’s not going to leave or get frustrated. 

When Amelie said that she wanted to meet Clementine, Jack practically immediately darted for his phone, asking when the resident would have some free time. She’s been almost surprisingly chill about it all, not asking that much and only bringing it up if Jack brings it up first. Which, if he thinks about it more, makes complete sense to who calm, collected, older sister and beloved-by-all Clementine Sandoval is. 

So that leads them to today, grabbing brunch in Hoboken on a Sunday morning with himself, Amelie, Clementine, Luke and Nico. Jack had asked Amelie if she wanted the latter two there or not, and she said she was okay with it. Jack hopes it brings Amelie more ease to have Nico and Luke around rather than stress. 

Jack’s leg is shaking and Luke is in the backseat as they sit in the car outside Amelie’s apartment. Luke shoves Jack’s shoulder. “Dude, stop shaking your leg. You’re stressing me out.”

“Sorry,” he responds automatically. 

“You know Clemmy. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.”

“I know.”

“Amelie’s scared?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know. I just want them to get along.”

“They’ll get along,” Luke says matter-of-factly. “It’s Clemmy. And it’s Amelie. And me and Cap are there. How bad could it go?”

Jack just sighs. It’s not going to go badly. It won’t. 

Honestly, it can’t. 

It’s that he’s always felt that Clementine brings out the best version of himself and she’s one of the biggest parts of his life. If there’s an inkling of this not going well, he doesn't know what he’s going to do. 

“Chill, man,” Luke says as Amelie floats through the front door. Jack is momentarily mesmerized by her maroon scarf and the white bow in her hair as she spots him, paddling over to his car. She’s about to go in the backseat, but Luke gestures to her through the window to take the front.

“Hi,” she breathes out, slipping in and shutting the door. She turns around to face Luke. “You didn’t have to leave me the front.”

“I wasn’t in the mood to hear Jack’s bitching and moaning,” Luke deadpans, a small smile peeking through as Amelie chuckles. 

Jack is about to shoot something back at his brother but then Amelie reaches over to squeeze his hand. He immediately relaxes. “Well, step on it,” Amelie jokes lightly. “We don’t wanna be late.”

“You look really nice,” Jack says, pulling out onto the road. 

“Thanks,” she responds quietly. “You do too. You too, Luke.”

“Thank you,” Luke sings. Jack isn’t looking at him but he knows that half-smile smirk thing that drives Jack bonkers is on Luke’s lips. 

“You excited?” Jack asks. 

Amelie coughs. “I’m scared as shit.” Luke snorts in the back. Amelie doesn’t even look as she whacks his knee. Jack knew he liked her for a reason. “No, I’ll be fine. I just want her to like me, that’s all.”

“She will,” Jack assures. 

They don’t talk much the rest of the ride, Amelie singing softly under her breath. He realizes that everytime they’re in a car together, Amelie has to sing, almost like she can’t control herself. It’s so endearing. 

Jack sees Clementine through the window of the restaurant in the middle of laughing at something Nico is saying. He internally rolls her eyes. They’re so gross. He flashes one last reassuring smile at Amelie before he leads them in, Luke holding the door for all three of them. 

Clementine sees the trio come in immediately and grins. “Hi Jacky.”

He narrows his eyes. “Hello.”

“Chill out,” she says. “Hey Lukey. And Amelie!” Clementine stands up, engulfing her in a hug. Jack can’t see Amelie’s face. “It’s so nice to meet you finally! I’ve heard so much about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Amelie says, pulling away with a small smile. “Hi Nico.”

The captain just smiles at her warmly. “Hey Amelie.”

“Have you guys ordered yet?” Jack asks as they all sit down. 

Clementine snorts. “No. We were waiting for your slow ass.”

“I am right on time, actually,” Jack snaps back.

Clementine ignores him, turning to Amelie instead. Immediately, the older girl just launches into questions. It’s a borderline interrogation and Jack can tell Amelie is a bit thrown off but she takes it all with grace paired with the most beautiful smile. By the time they order, Clementine’s already talking about how much of a pain it is to live with him and Luke and how much she wishes she didn’t and everyones jumping at each other as Nico just sits back and laughs and Jack hopes and hopes that this isn’t too much for Amelie. He’s seen her quietly work a room full of hockey players, but this is his family. 

(When their food comes, he takes her hand underneath the table and squeezes it. Without a passing beat, she squeezes right back, as she asks Clementine about her time at Stanford)

At one point, the two women are still riffing seamlessly off each other (making fun of him, thank you very much), and Luke snorts. “Are you just going to take this? Fight back, dude.”

“Don’t,” Nico says wearily. “No point. You know this.”

Jack grunts, because Nico’s right. He rolls his eyes as Clementine shoots him a smug grin, but he feels himself soften hearing Amelie’s chuckle. 

This could be his life. This is his life. Almost all his favorite people in the same place. He doesn’t get this peace that often in New Jersey. Especially not during the season. 

Amelie fits like a puzzle piece perfectly into his life. How lucky is he?

Clementine has a night shift and apologizes for it (“I should probably nap before or else I’ll be dead on my feet”), to which all of them decide it’s a good time as any to leave. They’ve already been talking for almost two hours, which has to be a good sign, right? Jack gives Clementine a kiss on the cheek, hugs Nico and messes up Luke’s hair, staring fondly as Amelie gives Clementine, Nico and Luke parting hugs. He catches Nico’s knowing look that he’s been on the end of many times before, usually hockey related. 

As he starts the engine of his car, Amelie deeply sighs to him. Immediately, he’s alert. “You okay? Was that too much?”

She shakes her head adamantly. “No, not at all.” She must sense his worry, because she continues with a laugh. “It was actually really fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she leans her head on the window, looking towards him. “I see why you talk so highly of her. Clementine, I mean. She’s really cool.”

“Isn’t she the best?” Jack grins. 

“She mentioned her dad a few times?” Amelie prods gently. “Did something happen?”

Jack swallows. “I never told you?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Oh. I thought I did. Uh, her dad, Miguel, died back in 2015. New Year’s Day. Cancer.”

He sneaks a look at Amelie and she looks heartbroken. “I’m so sorry, Jack,” she whispers. 

He continues on. He needs her to get it. “I miss him a lot. Constantly. He was the best guy. And Clee’s just..I love her so much. And Maeve, her mom. My mom, to some degree. I don’t know where I’d be without them.”

“That must’ve been really hard, for all of you,” she says softly.

“He never got to see any of us in the NHL,” Jack says. He’s trying to stay calm, but he’s gripping the wheel really tightly. “Hell, he never even got to see us in the NTDP. Or Q and Lukey at Michigan. He should be here. He would’ve loved all of it. But yeah, that’s Miguel.”

“She’s wonderful,” Amelie says after a few moments of silence. “Even just from that lunch, it’s obvious how much you all care about each other.”

“It’s hard to describe it, to be honest,” he says. “I think some people think at first that it’s something that it’s not. I’ve never seen her as anything but a sister.”

“I’m really glad you have someone like that,” she says, sounding somewhere between happy and sad. “And I’m sure she feels the same way.”

Jack chuckles. “I don’t know if she would. Most of the time I think we annoy her more than anything.”

“Annoying is 90% of what being a sibling is,” she points out. “Char and Col and I all love each other, but we annoyed the crap out of each other growing up.”

“You miss them?”

“All the time, and I saw Col a few weeks ago.” she tucks her legs up underneath her chin. “I think missing someone or something is all a part of it. You ever miss people even though they’re metaphorically right there? Or you haven’t had enough time to miss them yet?”

He sneaks another look at her and he feels his heart beating faster.

“All the time.”

~*~*~

amelie

Amelie and Kennedy are hanging out in the kitchen area when out of the corner of the eye, she sees Jack come in. 

It’s not unusual for players to come into the kitchen area of their own practice facility. But he’s beelining right towards the trio, which has Amelie’s arm hairs sticking up. 

“Hey Jack,” Kennedy greets warmly.

He nods with a close lipped smile. “Dynamic duo. How are you both?”

Kennedy raises an eyebrow. “Dream duo?”

“That’s how Josh refers to you two.” Amelie tuts as the other two laugh. Jack turns to her with an unmistakable twinkle in his eye. “What?”

Amelie shrugs. “Nothing. Just funny that Josh even refers to us at all.”

“It’s because we brighten his day,” Kennedy smirks. “What would he do without us?”

“Without you,” Amelie corrects with a wry smile. “I’m not here everyday.”

“You’re here enough,” Kennedy shoots back. She turns to Jack, and Amelie is immediately intrigued yet scared to hear what comes out of the older girl’s mouth, always the one to stir the pot in a harmless way. “Sick goal last night.”

Jack blinks. “The one that got called back?”

“The very one.”

Amelie bursts out laughing and Jack lets out a chuckle as well. “Thanks, I think,” he says. 

“Got some cool shots of it actually, but alas.”

“Alas, indeed.” Jack then turns his attention to Amelie. She can’t help but let a smile peek out. “I don’t think I saw you last night.”

“That’s because I was in Philly. They needed someone last minute.”

Jack pouts. “But what if the Devils need you?”

She rolls her eyes. “Then they have Kenny. And numerous other talented people on call.”

He nudges her elbow. “I know. We like having you around though.”

Amelie purposefully ignores her friends / coworkers’ eyes that she can feel boring into the side of her face, choosing to instead focus directly on Jack. “Do you know who’s been looking for you all morning?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Who?”

“Emma.”

“Shit,” he curses. “For what?”

Kennedy rolls her eyes. “A Tik-Tok, probably. That’s what the kids are doing these days. You’re a kid. Shouldn’t you know?”

“You’re like, only three years older than me, Ken.” Jack protests. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“She was in the media room last night I saw her,” Amelie smirks. “Go. Before she kills you. Or us. And I don’t wanna deal with that.”

He narrows his eyes. “Fine,” he swipes the unopened gatorade on the table, to which Amelie sputters at. That was hers, thank you very much. “I’ll see you two later.”

When he’s out of eyesight, Amelie lets out a deep sigh. “Annoying ass.”

“I have to agree, and I’ve been here for years. They all are though. Except for like, Nico.”

Amelie snorts. “Well, yeah. That’s a given. Everyone loves Nico.”

“Jack is right about one thing though,” the older girl nudges Amelie’s shoulder with her own. “We miss you when you’re not here.”

She just smiles, accepting a side hug from Kennedy. It’s a pretty damn good gig she has. 

~*~*~

jack

It’s no surprise that hockey players are creatures of habit. 

Jack is starting to freak himself in his willingness to break slowly from some of his habits for Amelie. Nothing crazy. Just an extra scoop of ice cream if Amelie’s craving something sweet after a game (he’s learned that she has a really strong sweet tooth and always has candy in her bag and car) or making sure that her texts and calls can come through during his pre-game nap. 

Only seven other people have that privilege. His parents, his brothers, his sister (Clementine), his second mom (Maeve) and his captain. 

He’s always liked to stay silent and blast music on the way home from a game, win or lose. Now he’s started asking Amelie more and more to see if she wants a ride, since she doesn’t love driving and often carpools with a coworker into work. They don’t have to be talking, but letting her into his post game routine so seamlessly — especially since he and Luke don’t usually drive to the rink together that much — is something he hasn’t done for…anyone.

It’s just so easy with her. Their conversations, whether over text, phone or in-person, are never stale. She makes him laugh daily with her witty sense of humor. He always looks forward to catching a glimpse of her at the rink before a game or after a practice. He’s come to look forward to seeing her texts after a game since they’re usually a picture or two of him that she “thinks are the best ones.” Leaving on a road trip has become genuinely harder because he can’t see her for a few days. 

He finds himself wanting. Constantly. It’s a newer feeling for him. 

Sometimes, it feels scary. Especially since he hasn’t really gotten a direct answer from her yet about what she wants this to be. But they’re basically dating without the title. 

He would like an answer at some point though. But it’s not stopping him from doing all he’s doing already. Or feeling all he’s feeling already.

They’re playing the Habs at home tonight, and he’s feeling good, driving into the arena now to prepare. Last night, he had Cole over for dinner and it felt like old times. They had an optional skate this morning where most of the team was present. He likes where the team is at and he’s confident about what he needs to work on in his individual game.

Walking in, he says hi to the guys, dodges a classic slap to the head from Curtis and goes to the medical room to stretch out. As he’s stretching out his calf, he spots Josh wandering through the hallway. He makes direct eye contact with Jack and comes into the room. 

“Jack, hey.”

Jack smiles easily. “What can I do for you, Josh?”

“Have you seen Amelie? I have one of her cameras and I need to give it back to her before the game starts.”

“Uh, no.” Jack smirks slightly. He has an idea of where this might go. He’ll play. “Why would I know where she is?”

Josh blinks. “You two are always around each other.”

Jack tilts his head to the side, feigning innocence. “Are we?”

“Seems like it.”

“Well, no,” Jack grins. “I don’t know where she is.”

“You looking for me?” The two guys whip their heads to the doorway to see Amelie. She’s wearing a denim jacket over a simple black shirt., brown boots on her feet. The classic red ribbon is in her hair and Jack wants to kiss her so bad. 

But he just nods. “Just in time.”

Josh looks to Amelie. “Your camera.”

She lights up, taking it from his hands. “Oh, right. What did you think?”

“It’s sick,” Josh admits. “I might have to add it onto my list.”

“Yeah, I saved up for that baby for two years,” Amelie laughs. “Worth it though.”

“Very worth it. Thank you for letting me borrow it. See you out there,” Josh turns to salute to Jack. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Josh.” And then it’s just the two of them. “Hi. You look nice.”

“Thanks.” She bites her lip, making sure no one is coming down the hallway. “Does he know?”

Jack raises his eyebrows in amusement. “Know what?”

“About us?”

“We’re an us?”

She gives him an unamused look. “Jack.”

“I’m kidding,” he watches as she walks to where he is, looking up at her from where he’s sitting. “I don’t think so, to be honest. He’s a bit-”

“Unobservant,” Amelie concludes with a laugh. “Yeah, he’s a killer photographer. Has a great eye. But with everything else?” She lowers her voice. “Actually, I was gonna ask and I’m really sorry, but could you give me a ride home later? I rode with Kenny because she wanted to try this bagel place and and we just came straight here-”

“Of course,” Jack assures. “It’s not a problem at all. Ever.”

She snorts. “Yeah. Sure. I am out of your way, you know?”

“I love driving you home,” Jack admits fully with his chest. “I don’t mind it at all.”

“Okay, thanks,” she backs away. “I’ll see you out there?”

“As always,” he says, a smile still on his face as she walks out of his sight. 

…..

They’re in his car after the game, a comfortable silence between them sans Amelie humming along to some he’s vaguely heard before, when things change. 

“I told one of my college friends earlier today that you were my boyfriend.”

Jack almost slams on the breaks. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly, he feels like he’s missing something. He looks over to her as he rolls his car to a stop in front of a light. “Is this your way of asking?”

She shrugs, but the streetlights expose the slight smile on her face. “Maybe. Is that bad?”

Despite himself, he laughs. “It’s definitely not what I expected.”

“I mean,” he thinks he hears her voice shake for the first time he’s known her as he pulls up to the front of her apartment complex, killing the engine. “We basically are anyways, aren’t we? And honestly, I-I think I’m ready. If you’re still interested.”

He wants to shake her silly because she’s being so ridiculous. He snorts. “If I’m still interested? Of course I’m still interested.”

“Good,” she breathes out. “Great. I, uh, yeah.” 

“Yeah?” He repeats softly, afraid that this bubble will pop unexpectedly when he wants to scream happily from the rooftop. “I’m yours?” 

“I’m really annoying,” she warns with a swallow. “I’m trying not to be. But I am. This is your last chance to back out. I don’t know if I know how to be a good girlfriend.”

Jack knows that’s not true and, frankly, doesn’t care. “I’m yours,” he rushes out. A firm statement this time. “However long you want me, I’m yours.” 

“Okay.” 

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “Okay? Can I kiss you?” 

She pouts slightly. “Don’t one up me like that. I didn’t ask the first time.” 

He blinks before a full fledged grin takes over his face. “You remember planting one on me in your grandparents’ kitchen?” 

“I remember everything that involves you.” 

Jack lunches forward to cup her cheeks and kisses her. Amelie responds immediately. He can’t believe this is happening.

They eventually pull apart and he watches her eyes open slowly as he rubs her cheeks with his thumbs. Her light grip on his wrists is the only thing keeping him tethered. 

“Why haven’t you kissed me since we’ve been in Jersey?” She asks, tilting her head to the side. 

“Because I didn’t know if you’d want me to,” 

She visibly deflates. Jack quickly kisses her forehead lightly. He doesn’t wanna see her like that. “It’s late. I’ll let you go.” 

“Okay,” she says softly, grabbing her backpack. “Goodnight. Text me when you’re home safe.” 

And oh. Isn’t that lovely?  “Of course. Goodnight, baby.” 

The second he sees Amelie walk into her building, he dials Quinn’s number. He picks up on the fourth ring as Jack starts driving. 

“Hello?”

“Dude.”

“What?” Jack hears rustling on his older brother’s end. He presumes Quinn is lounging around on his couch, freedom present in his off day.

Jack drums his fingers on the wheel, waiting for the light. “I think I have a girlfriend.”

Silence, before Quinn lets out a quiet snort. “Amelie finally say yes?”

“Hey,” Jack protests. “You’re making it sound like I’ve been begging her, which I haven’t, because that’s a dick move.”

“So what happened?”

“She said she was catching up with one of her old friends on the phone and slipped up and called me her boyfriend then we got to talking and she was like, okay.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“And this happened, just now?”

“Literally less than a minute ago.”

Quinn chuckles. “Good on you both, dude. About time.”

“Is it supposed to feel like this?” Jack says with a swallow. “Is it too soon to feel like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like I wanna spend the rest of my life with her?”

Silence. And then a crackly, “Shit, you’re serious?” 

“Don’t be an ass,” Jack scowls. 

“I’m not trying to be,” Quinn says. “I’m just, holy shit. You really like her.” 

Jack lets out a deep breath. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Clem told me she met her the other week.” 

“Yeah.” 

“What did Amelie think?” 

“She told me Clee was great. What did Clee say?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Ass.”

“You love me,” Quinn shoots back. “So now what?”

Jack blinks, cracking his neck. “I try not to fuck it up, I guess.”

“You’re not gonna fuck it up, dude.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re not gonna fuck it up,” Quinn repeats. “I’m serious. Especially not this.”

“I’ve done it once. I could do it again.”

“But you won’t. And if you do, it won’t fall to pieces. Because you won’t let it.”

Jack takes a shaky breath. He hasn’t felt anxiety this severe since the moments before he went in for surgery earlier this year. “I’m terrified.”

“Then talk to her,” Quinn says. “I’m sure she’d appreciate knowing that, to be honest. And also, I would bet money that she’s just as, if not more, scared than you are. 

“Nah,” Jack brushes his brother off. “She’s so calm about this all compared to me.”

“Or she’s better at faking it,” Quinn points out. “She’s awesome, Jack, And you’re not so bad either. Don’t overthink it so much. Enjoy it. This is what you’ve wanted for months.”

“Yeah,” Jack responds, nodding to himself. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“I know. I gotta make dinner, so I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re good?”

“I’m perfect.”

Quinn chuckles. “Good. Congratulations, dude. She’s awesome. Can’t wait to see her when we come to play you guys.”

“Thanks, man. Love you. Talk later.”

“Love you, Jack. Bye.”

When Jack pulls into his garage, he takes a deep breath. He kills the engine, reaches for his phone and swipes through to Amelie’s texts she sent just a minute ago. 

It’s a photo of him at the faceoff dot from earlier. But it’s the text underneath that has Jack grinning uncontrollably. 

Amelie Fishel 

2830.jpeg

now you’re gonna get endless photos of yourself all the time !!

Jack Hughes

i don’t mind in the slightest 

goodnight. sleep well 

Amelie Fishel

you’re home safe!

❤️💤

see you tomorrow

~*~*~

amelie

A fun part of the job that she didn’t expect has been seeing the familiar faces around the league that she’s known before. As in, the people she overlapped with at Michigan. There’s a lot of them. 

By now, she knows who wears what number for the teams she covers. She’s not required to know the rosters of the opposing team, but she likes to pair numbers with faces and names as much as she can. It’s become a fun game for her too.

It just proves to her that this world is so incredibly small. For better or worse. 

Currently, the Devils are in the midst of their game against the Sharks and all she can think is: damn, the Sharks jerseys are pretty. 

The teal of it all is tickling the color theory part of Amelie’s brain so well. She wishes the teams she covered were more original in color. 

As Amelie’s sifting quickly through the photos she took during the second period on her new camera, she stops at a picture of two teal jerseys celebrating their goal. Number 2 and number 71. She quickly double checks on Google. Yup. She was right. Will Smith and Macklin Celebrini

Amelie’s always been good with names. Macklin’s stuck with her after working the draft. And Will’s is just so iconic. 

She checks the time. She still has 7 minutes left before the third period starts. Quickly, she connects the camera to the laptop and then the printer, printing out two copies of the same picture. She reminds herself after the game to venture towards the visitors’ locker room as soon as she can before the Sharks leave. Maybe grab Bordeleau to make it easier. Hopefully he remembers her. 

Once the buzzer sounds, she pats her pocket, making sure the two photos are there. She briefly thinks of a game plan, deciding to give it at least 15 minutes so she doesn’t interrupt the locker room. She hangs out in an alcove where she knows from prior experience that she can hear the visiting’s teams general coming and goings. In the meantime, she pulls up her laptop to edit some photos. 

As luck would have it, she sees a glimpse of Thomas and now she’s on a mission. In a brisk jog, she catches up to him and taps him on the shoulder.

He turns around and his face lights up in recognition. “Amelie? Holy shit.”

She smiles. “Hey Bords.”

“I thought I saw on Instagram that you’re working in the NHL now,” he gives her a quick hug. “That’s awesome. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Yeah. Listen, I know you guys are probably heading out pretty soon, but do you mind grabbing either Celebrini or Smith or both of them for me?” At his initial confusion, she pulls out the photos. “Thought they might want a copy.”

He nods with a small smirk. “Yeah, I’ll grab them. Be right back.” Not even a two minutes later, Thomas comes back with Macklin and Will both in tow, all back in their game day suits, though much less refined than she’s sure they were walking in. 

She puts on her professional smile, sticking her hand out. “Hi. I’m Amelie. Uh, I’m a photographer with the NHL,” she hands the rookies the photos. “I took this in the second period and I figured maybe you’d want a copy? No charge. Just keep a bit hush about that.”

Macklin takes the photos as Will looks over his shoulder. “These are sick. Thank you so much.”

“You’re so welcome.”

“How do you know Bordy?” Will asks.

“We went to college together,” she replies. 

“Michigan?” She nods. Will continues. “You must know Rutger and Shea then. And Luke. Unless you didn’t overlap?”

Amelie laughs. “Oh, I know them very well. I was Rut’s TA. He loved that.” 

“It’s beautiful there,” Macklin says. “I train there in the summers now and it’s so nice.”

Right. He trains with Jack. Go figure. “It is,” she reminisces, trying not to get too emotional about what home means to her in a literal and metaphorical sense. 

“Do you work for the Devils now?” Thomas asks. 

“Kinda,” Amelie says, redoing her hair and aimlessly retying her bow. “I cover the Devils and Flyers mainly, but Rangers and Islanders as well. I technically work with the NHL rather than a specific team.”

“Have we met?” Macklin asks with an innocent tilt of his head. 

“Maybe?” She says. “I was at the draft. So possibly in passing. And maybe if you came to Yost? I can’t remember what year BU came to play in Michigan.”

“I never did at BU,” Macklin says. “But the draft makes sense.”

She backs away. “I won’t keep you for long so-ah!” She crashes into someone and whips around to see Jack, one side of his lips quirked up. 

“Watch where you’re going,” he says with a playful tilt. 

“What are you doing here?” She shoots back.

“Josh was looking for you, actually, and I just saw you out here.”

She looks down at her feet, because deep down, she knows it’s because he was purposefully looking for her. But she doesn’t mind the vagueness, especially in front of Thomas, Macklin and Will.

Jack does some sort of bro handshake with all three of them, paired with a friendly nod. “What’s up?”

Macklin grins. “Amelie here took a picture of me and Will and wanted to give it to us.”

Jack leans over to look at the picture and lets out a small chuckle. “Yeah, that’s a keeper.”

Amelie gives a parting smile. “It was nice to meet you both, and good to see you again, Bords.”

“Thank you for the picture,” Will says sincerely. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Amelie just shrugs, accepting a quick hug from Thomas before backing away and letting Jack say his parting words. 

When he faces her directly, his back towards his fellow hockey players, in his Devils sweatshirt and his wet hair fresh from the shower, she swallows. 

He’s hers. Isn’t that great?

“Hi,” she says softly when he gets in earshot. 

“Hey,” he says. She wants to kiss him so bad. “Did you drive here today?”

“No. I carpooled with Kenny. Is she still in there?”

“I’m not sure,” he says. “How much longer you need?”

She hums, hands automatically fiddling with the camera around her neck. “Maybe 20 minutes?”

“I can drive you home.”

“You sure?” She whispers. “I don’t wanna keep you. I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Being here for 20 extra won’t hurt me,” they stop before parting to different hallways. “I’ll come knock on your door in a bit, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods with a small smile. “See you.”

(As the three Sharks watch Jack and Amelie walk away, they all notice how Jack’s hand doesn’t quite touch Amelie’s, but it’s damn close. And their bodies are tuned to each other in a way that goes beyond mere coworkers.

Macklin blinks. “It’s none of my business, but are they-”

“Yup,” Thomas responds. “I follow her on Instagram. They’re definitely dating.”

“Huh,” Will comments. “That’s kinda cute. The sports photographer and the player. Think Grace made me watch a movie like that once.”

“She’s great,” Thomas says with a nostalgic tilt in his voice. “We were both freshmen at the same time and I just, I don’t know. It’s awesome to see where she’s ended up.”

“Did you ever predict that she and Jack-”

Thomas snorts. “No. Absolutely not. Not any hockey player, to be honest. She was just always on the quieter end and seemed way too smart for any of us, because she is. But she’s, just, so great.”

The two rookies hum, watching as the couple turns the corner out of view.)

~*~*~

amelie

They finally, finally go on that Manhattan date, on a brief break where Jack doesn’t have any games and a day that Amelie is also free. The con is that he doesn’t tell her what they’re doing, only says “trust me” and “wear something you can walk in and be warm in and is a little fancy but not too much.” 

She appreciates it, she does. And Jack elicits nothing but comfort and ease, especially since their conversation a week and a half ago. So she is trying to be at ease with the lack of knowing the plans. But by the time Jack knocks on her door a little bit after 2 p.m., she’s been dressed for over an hour, pacing around for almost the same amount of time. 

She whips open the door and smiles, momentarily taken aback. “Hi.”

He laughs a bit, eyes sparkling. He has a canvas jacket tossed over a plain black t-shirt and black jeans. He looks clean and fresh and so cute. “Hi. Ready to go?”

“Mmhm.”

He waits for her to grab her bag and jacket, before interlacing their fingers and kissing their locked hands. “You look pretty.” 

She tucks herself into his side, feeling giddy. “Thanks. You’re sweet.”

“I’m glad we’re finally able to do this.”

“I am too, but I think you’re a bit crazy for wanting to drive into the city.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s not too bad. Nico does it all the time with Clee. I’ve picked her up from the hospital before. As long as you don’t mind possible traffic. Besides, want you to be comfortable.”

She just looks at him, marveling at how much he really likes her. She wishes she was used to this feeling. Not wanting to dwell outwardly on that right now, she changes the subject. “What are we doing?” 

“What do you mean? You know what we’re doing.” 

“I know that you asked me if I knew of any places to eat in the city for a late lunch or dessert,” she deadpans as they get into his car. “I know you have more up your sleeve.” 

He grins. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.”

“Jack-”

His hand rests on her thigh and he squeezes lightly. “Hey. I got it, okay? Just worry about having a good time.”

She sinks back into her seat, shooting him a glare. He laughs and she softens. “Fine. Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound snippy.”

“No need to be sorry,” he responds easily. “How was your day yesterday?”

They talk the whole time it takes for them to get into Manhattan. As always, Amelie’s on the aux. She hasn’t told Jack yet, but she’s started making a playlist of songs that she’s played that he’s noted that he likes or seems to bop his head to. Jack parks in a garage attached to a hotel in Soho, right by the sushi place that Amelie suggested per Colette. (“You’ve met my brothers. When do I get to meet your sisters?” Jack had joked. And the thought of that didn’t terrify Amelie as much as she thought it would.”) He doesn’t even give her the chance when the check comes, snatching it away despite Amelie very much verbally disagreeing. 

He waves her off, as he signs. “Amelie. No. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m getting the next one,” she says adamantly. 

“We’ll see,” he says. 

“Jack.”

“We’ll see,” he repeats with a smirk. “Ready to go?”

She grabs her bag and jacket. “To where, exactly?”

“You’ll see. We’re hopping on the train.”

She lets him lead, even leaning her forehead against his chest on the train when it’s packed. They ride mostly in silence as she takes in the city. This isn’t even close to her first time in Manhattan, but it’s always a bit overwhelming. Jack’s steady presence calms her down, especially when the train jolts and he automatically steadies her. 

When they get off at the 42nd Street station, Amelie has an inkling she knows where this is heading. She gives Jack a look, but he just holds her hand firmly in his as they exit the busy station. 

“Are you taking me to a show?”

He turns from where he was walking slightly in front of her with a smile. “Busted.”

She feels her heart dropping down to her feet. “Jack.”

“Well, hold on,” he jokes. “You don’t know what show yet.” She’s still in a daze, because she’s maybe only mentioned in passing how much she loves Broadway and musical theater and she’s trying to wrap her head around the fact that he remembered enough to incorporate into their first date. Tickets aren’t cheap, especially with-

“Jack,” she says as they glide to a stop in front of Richard Rodgers Theater. “No. You didn’t.”

He grins, exaggeratedly gesturing at the “Hamilton” billboard. “I did. I don’t know much about Broadway, but even I know Hamilton is supposed to be a great show.” Amelie’s so incredibly touched as she continues staring at Jack in disbelief. People are walking by them in a blur and all she can focus on is his smile, that slowly turns unsure the longer she stays silent. “I also did reach out to Charlotte on Instagram after I saw she followed me and asked if you would like this.”

That’s a loaded sentence. “Y-you asked my sister?” She sputters out. 

“Well, yeah,” Jack shrugs sheepishly. “I wanted to make sure it was a good idea.”

“This is too much,” she finally chokes out.

“But in a good way?”

“I-I’ve always dreamed of seeing Hamilton live.”

“Dope,” he holds out his hand with an easy smile. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

She looks at him, takes a deep breath and intertwines their hands. 

[oceane4loveu]

The vlog of the perfect "her" océane ≽^•⩊•^≼

"𝑊𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑢𝑝"𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒!!! .𖥔 ݁ 🪐˖

ˢᵃᵗᵘʳⁿ ᴿᵉᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᴵⁿᵗᵉʳˡᵘᵈᵉ

Heyyyy starfish! I know it's been a long time like 3 months but I was in a bad state. I was literally depressed, my girlfriend had just left me and my whole life was literally boring, I kept comparing myself day after day and I wondered why I was living such a bad life in fact to be honest I didn't feel like myself anymore. So I deleted all my social networks, I deleted the number of several people and I started to focus on myself and I realized that all my traumas were really preventing me from moving forward, already I am obsessed with wanting to be in a relationship and fill this lack of love so I get into relationships with people who are bad for me and I do things that end up hurting me. I compare myself to girls all the time because my ex was always comparing me to his ex or other girls and at the end of our relationship it became a habit for me to do that so by deleting social media and doing a social media detox it helped me to really start loving myself again and to become aware of a lot of things and today I feel like everything is going better in my life I found a temporary job while waiting to start my dream job, I love myself more, I do what I like and I feel better but I haven't achieved all my goals yet. 2025 is in what month and I think I spent too much time creating thousands of plans to finally give up at the last minute and postpone everything until tomorrow so I decided to enter a new era!!!! An era where I work hard for my dreams, I'm 20 years old and I don't want to make the same mistakes year after year! So I asked myself how I can become a completely new woman? how to become her? This better version of me. I watched a lot of tam kaur videos, searched for the best self improvement books and I finally found the method that works best for me it's simple and detailed. For that I watched this tam kaur video which is definitely my favorite video!

𝟏. 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.

Ok this year I planned more than 15 glow up plans that I ended up abandoning because all these goals were literally dictated by others like I see this person doing something and I want to do it too so each time I did nothing and I stayed there doing several glow up plans without really taking action so this time I followed the SMARTER method

S: SPECIFIC

Be specific in defining your goal:

What exactly do you want to accomplish?

Who are the people involved? (individual or team) How are you going to achieve it?

M: MEASURABLE

How are you going to measure it? How will you know when you have achieved your goal?

A: ACHIEVABLE

Is your goal realistically achievable?

Can you achieve your goal within a defined time frame?

Is the goal ambitious enough to motivate you to take concrete action? Reminder: Don’t set goals that are too ambitious and might seem unrealistic to achieve

R: RELEVANT

Are the goals relevant to your vision?

Are the goals aligned with your role? (student/professional/leader)

Is the reason/motivation for achieving this goal relevant/meaningful in your context?

T: TIMELY

What is your timeline for achieving this goal? (30 days, 3 months, 6 months) Break down big goals into smaller goals

E: EVALUATION AND EMOTIONS

Continuously assess the needs of your goal

If it serves your goal of personal, academic and professional growth and development

Do you feel

empowered/motivated/energized/excited to achieve this goal?

R: REWARD AND REVIEW

Reward yourself for achieving your goals Review your goals to adapt them to your current contexts and needs

I finally created a list with all my goals

𝐆𝐨𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝟐. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞?

I used the everskies app to create an avatar of the new me but I will do a more in-depth post on that so Describe everything in detail:

A. About yourself. Your personality. Your brain.

B. Money

C. Career and opportunities

D. Friends and family

E. Relationship

F. Hobbies and happiness

G. Hobbies/how you spend your free time

H. Workouts, etc.

I. Home/habitat

𝟑. 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.

move each goal into a weekly calendar every sunday, plan the week around that to come up with achievable goals to achieve all those goals and it becomes part of the weekly to do list

For example I want to read 15 books so I choose a book and I read 5 or 10 pages of that book per day and so on. I will use this planner and Canva to plan my week

𝟒. 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐞𝐭

I'm going to read several self improvement books that I bought recently and also here are some phrases that can help

A. You saw these dreams because you were supposed to see them. They are your dreams, seize them

B. Failure is part of your success

C. Don't despair of anything. Just do your job.

D. The fact that others live normal lives doesn't mean you have to live average. Work for your dreams.

E. Put down your damn phone

F. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Stop giving reasons why it's not for you.

G. Stop thinking about what others are doing. Everyone's life is different.

H. Take a look at your inner speech.

𝟓. 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞

For this no need to be tired I took some routine ideas from Pinterest

𝟔. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬.

I understood one thing when I did my digital detox, no one comes and does all the work for me it's up to me to do it it's up to me to work to get what I really want it's not by running after people that it will happen by magic. It's time to work for my dreams and enjoy the process because the best version of me only depends on the actions I take to make it exist. So I focus on my goals.